the city in film
Here’s another filmerick for your enjoyment. (You’ll note that this one, on Fred Wiseman’s latest documentary, City Hall, is a lot shorter than the film itself.)
City Hall (Fred Wiseman, 2020)
As the five hour mark he was nearing
Wiseman must have expected some jeering.
It’s far beyond copious,
A real magnum opius:
It’s as long as a Zoning Board hearing.
As described previously, I’ve been exploring a new medium, the “filmerick” (limericks to summarize great films). Here’s a new one in honor of Chloé Zhao’s poignant and meditative on-the-road epic, Nomadland:
Nomadland (Chloé Zhao, 2020)
They may think that you don’t have a plan,
When they see that you poop in a can,
But it’s them that did go mad,
You hard-working nomad:
You’ve a home on the road in your van.
For my longer (and slightly more serious) review, see The Arts Fuse.
My class on “The City in Film” recently screened Vittorio De Sica’s classic BICYCLE THIEVES, and I was inspired to pen another “filmerick”:
BICYCLE THIEVES (Vittorio De Sica, 1948)
De Sica shoots Rome neo-real,
The poor have been dealt a raw deal.
A bike is required
Or Ricci gets fired:
All men must eventually steal.
So great, so sad.
As described previously, I’ve been exploring a new medium, the “filmerick” (limericks to summarize great films). Over the weekend my daughter and I were fortunate to catch a special screening of Blow-Up at the Harvard Film Archive, and here’s what I came up with:
BLOW-UP (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1966)
A portrait of visual glories,
And behavior abhorrent to Tories,
Signor Antonioni,
has certainly shown he’s
proficient in shaggy-dog stories.
The film itself is great, of course: a wonderful, touchingly sad meander through 1960s London, ushering in what would later be recognized as a golden age of the cinema of urban alienation and the search for meaning amid the chaos of modern life.
I was especially moved by how beautifully Antonioni filmed both the perfectly balanced “design world” (fashion shoots, bohemian artist “live-work space”) and the eclectic clutter of “real London” (crowds and demonstrations, junk shops, construction sites). Both draw you in – part of the mystery implied in every shot – and one leaves the film with an appreciation for the eye’s uncanny ability to frame and capture the art all around us. (Although whether we can every truly grasp and understand what we capture is another story altogether…)
This semester I’ve been teaching a new course on “The City in Film” in MIT’s Department of Urban Studies and Planning. As the syllabus describes:
Using film as a lens to explore and interpret various aspects of the urban experience in both the U.S. and abroad, this course presents a survey of important developments in urbanism from 1900 to the present day, including changes in technology, bureaucracy, and industrialization; immigration and national identity; race, class, gender, and economic inequality; politics, conformity, and urban anomie; planning, development, private property, displacement, sprawl, environmental degradation, and suburbanization; and more.
My plan is to vary the films shown in the course from year to year, but to always include a balance of classics from the history of film, an occasional experimental or avant-garde film, and a number of more recent, mainstream movies. This year’s lineup includes the obligatory (and excellent) METROPOLIS, an NYC romp in ON THE TOWN, a touch of photo-realistic noir in THE NAKED CITY, some psycho-geographic dérive in LONDON, and much more — 13 films in all.
To help liven the class up a bit (as if all these great city films isn’t enough!), and also to help us all keep the films straight, I’ve challenged the class to come up with limericks for each film — so called “filmericks.” Here’s what I came up with for the first three films:
METROPOLIS (Fritz Lang, 1926)
Joh Frederson’s city is smart,
The brains tell the brawn when to start.
But inspired by Hel,
The workers rebel:
The HEAD and the HANDS need a HEART.
BERLIN: SYMPHONY OF A CITY (Walther Ruttman, 1927)
Made from hundreds of meters of stock,
And covering block upon block,
This film, like a rhyme,
Shows a town keeping time:
BERLIN is one big cuckoo clock.
MODERN TIMES (Charles Chaplin, 1936)
With all of its plot twists and swerves,
This film, like a clarion, serves
To give the impression
That the Great Depression
Did a hell of a job on our nerves.
Stay tuned for more…