J.D. Salinger and the Movies

by Kimberly Lindbergs | February 1, 2010

Categories | Movie Reviews, Books, Rants & Raves, Peter Sellers

“I believe everything and I believe nothing.” - Inspector Clouseau

Since J.D. Salinger’s death many film critics like Dana Stevens have enjoyed quoting from Salinger’s seminal work The Catcher in the Rye where the fictional character of Holden Caulfield proclaims “If there’s one thing I hate, it’s the movies.” The quote has become a jumping-off point for film critics who have used the line to help explain why Salinger didn’t want Catcher in the Rye turned into a film, but they’re sadly mistaken when they also assume that the author of Catcher in the Rye didn’t like movies.

In Joyce Maynard’s memoir At Home in the World she discusses her lengthy relationship with J.D. Salinger and makes it clear that movies played a rather large part in the author’s life. In the book (originally published in 1998) Maynard explains that Salinger loved watching movies and talking about them in great detail. He seemed to enjoy debating a film’s merits and faults. In one of the books most fascinating passages Maynard details Salinger’s viewing habits.

“Although we were talking regularly on the phone now, the letters continue. He writes about the movies he loves best - he loves movies, not films - and how, some years back, he got himself a 16mm projector so he could watch old prints of movies he loves, right there in the living room with his children: The Thirty-Nine Steps, The Thin Man, The Lady Vanishes, Lost Horizon. As much contempt as Jerry conveys about nearly everything being produced in the current world of film, theater, art and literature, he holds an attitude of tenderness and occasional reverence for what came out of the thirties - the years when he was close to the age that I am now. With the exception of a handful of movies - From Here to Eternity, The Pink Panther - his favorite movies were made long before I was born.”
- Joyce Maynard on J.D. Salinger in “At Home in the World: A Memoir”

This brief passage indicates that Salinger had more than a passing interest in the movies. He obviously enjoyed writing about them and watching them enough to purchase a 16mm projector. Salinger seemed to like Hitchcock’s early work and the writer even found room in his heart for one of my favorite comedies, The Pink Panther (1963). Simply put, Salinger liked the movies but he had particular tastes and preferred older films.

Film critics who continue to parrot the idea that J.D. Salinger didn’t like movies are doing Salinger and their readers a great disservice. If you don’t know a thing about the author’s movie viewing habits you shouldn’t write about them. Period. Besides Dana Stevens assuming that Salinger must have hated the movies in the same way she thinks his fictional character did, I’ve come across this same ridiculous assumption repeated by people like Ron Reed of Filmwell who feels that “J.D. Salinger doesn’t appear to have been much of a movie fan.” and Dave at MovieSet who proclaims that he’s got “… a dossier on stuff I know about Jerome David Salinger and his literary work: 1) Salinger hates movies.” and then there’s Michael Dance at MovieCultist who has written a piece simply titled “J.D. Salinger: The Man Who Hated Movies.”

Willful ignorance shouldn’t become a staple of film criticism. Do a little research before you write or stick to the old adage, “Write what you know.”

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The Universal Vault Series

by Kimberly Lindbergs | January 18, 2010

Categories | News, Rants & Raves, Ann-Margret

It looks like Universal Pictures has decided to follow Warner Brother’s lead and release some of their older films on demand (in DVD-R format) in association with Amazon.com. Some of the current films available in Universal’s new “Vault Series” that will be of special interest to’ 60s & ’70s film fans include (listed in alphabetical order) 40 Pounds of Trouble (Norman Jewison; 1963), Blue Collar (Paul Schrader; 1978), The Brass Bottle (Harry Keller; 1964), The Chalk Garden (Ronald Neame; 1964), Gambit (Ronald Neame; 1966), Kitten With a Whip (Douglas Heyes; 1964), The Last Remake of Beau Geste (Marty Feldman; 1977), The List of Adrian Messenger (John Huston; 1963) and Tell Them Willie Boy is Here (Abraham Polonsky; 1969).

I wish I could get more excited about this news but I can’t. The lackluster quality of the Warner’s DVDs that I’ve purchased has soured me a little on the concept and at almost $20 per film I think buyers deserve more. I haven’t purchased any of the Universal DVD-R films but I’m sure the quality isn’t much better. To make matters worse, Netflix isn’t carrying these DVDs so unless you’re willing and able to purchase them you won’t be able to see these movies.

Obviously the studios are not all that interested in releasing quality DVD additions of the classic films in their vaults anymore. Considering the apparent success of companies like Criterion I can’t understand why big studios like Universal and Warner won’t invest in producing more quality products. I wouldn’t mind if these films were released as part of a collection or in sets similar to Criterion’s Eclipse series or Universal’s “Screen Legend Collections.” For example, 40 Pounds of Trouble and The List of Adrian Messenger both feature Tony Curtis and director’s Norman Jewison and John Huston deserve better than having their films stuck on DVD-R and subject to such limited availability. Why couldn’t Universal just release these films as part of a Tony Curtis DVD box set? Kitten With a Whip and The Last Remake of Beau Geste both feature Ann-Margret and I can’t be the only person who would like to see Universal release a DVD collection of Ann-Margret’s films? I’m not expecting any worthwhile bonus materials. I’d just like to have easier access to decent copies of these movies.

But I digress… In a few years studios will probably stop producing DVDs altogether and we’ll all be forced to stream films online or download them if we want to watch them. I’m not looking forward to that but hopefully the technology will improve by the time watching movies via our computers becomes mandatory.

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Kris Kristofferson Drove Me Home Once

by Kimberly Lindbergs | January 10, 2010

Categories | News, Rants & Raves

Happy New Year!

This year has gotten off to a busy start and I suspect that I won’t have much time for blogging about film in 2010 since my interests are shifting more towards other things and I do want to focus more energy on my personal writing, art and photography. This does not mean I’m planning on abandoning Cinebeats but you can probably expect less frequent updates in the coming months. You can still find me posting semi-regularly at Mid-Century Living as well as at If Charlie Parker Was a Gunslinger, There’d Be a Whole Lot of Dead Copycats. I also recently contributed some thoughts to an interesting piece written by Adam Hartzell for SF360 (in association with the San Francisco Film Society) titled Citizen Critics Found New Outlets, Faced Challenges in 2009

I thought I’d kick off the New Year by contributing to two memes (masquerading as “awards”) that are currently making their way across the blogosphere. One is called the Kreativ Blogger award and no, I didn’t spell that wrong. I was given the Kreativ Blogger award by my generous fellow film blogger, Neil Fulwood of Agitation of the Mind. The other award is called the Zombie Chicken award and I was gifted this hilariously titled award by Uranium Willy of Necrotic Cinema. Many thanks to them both!

Here are the rules you must follow after you receive the Kreativ Blogger award:

1. Thank the person who nominated you for this award.
2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.
3. Link to the person who nominated you for this award.
4. Name 7 things about yourself that people might find interesting.
5. Nominate 7 Kreativ Bloggers.
6. Post links to the 7 blogs you nominate.
7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know they have been nominated

As for the Zombie Chicken award, it only has one simple rule but here are the funny details:

“The blogger who receives this award believes in the Tao of the zombie chicken – excellence, grace and persistence in all situations, even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. These amazing bloggers regularly produce content so remarkable that their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just to be able to read their inspiring words. As a recipient of this world-renowned award, you now have the task of passing it on to at least three other worthy bloggers. Do not risk the wrath of the zombie chickens by choosing unwisely or not choosing at all…”

Kris Kristofferson in Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid (Sam Peckinpah; 1973)

First up, here are 7 things about me that you may find interesting if you haven’t heard them before. I tried to keep them all somewhat movie related:

1. The first actor (and professional musician) I ever met was Kris Kristofferson in the early ’70s. I was a very little girl living in Idaho at the time and he knew some friends of the family. Kris drove me home one day in his pickup truck and I talked to him about Barbie dolls. What I remember most about Kris Kristofferson was his deep calming voice and the way he seemed to listen intently to my childish babbling about dolls. I also remember thinking that he had very large hands that seemed to engulf the steering wheel of the truck he was driving.

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Happy Holidays!

by Kimberly Lindbergs | December 23, 2009

Categories | News, Rants & Raves

If the road to hell is paved with good intentions, it’s currently littered with unfinished blog posts about Hammer films that I may or may not complete in the future. I’m afraid life has been throwing me too many curve balls lately and I just don’t have any free time to blog. Currently blogging has taken a backseat to holiday parties, house hunting, packing and reorganizing my life.

I am currently trying to catch up on new movies so I can compile my Favorite Films of the Year list as well as my Favorite Films of the Decade list which I hope to share here sometime after the New Year. Until then, Happy Holidays!

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Nicolas Caesar’s Grindhouse Nov. 1-15th

by Kimberly Lindbergs | November 2, 2009

Categories | News, Rants & Raves

Live in the Southern California? Still in the Halloween spirit? Looking for a fun way to celebrate the Day of the Dead aka El Día de los Muertos or All Souls’ Day? Consider stopping by the Hyaena Gallery located in Burbank California Nov. 1-15th and you can enjoy a display of art by Nicolas Caesar dedicated to Grindhouse Cinema!

From the gallery site:

On Exhibit: Nicolas Caesar’s Grindhouse

Location:
Hyaena Gallery
1928 W. Olive Ave. Burbank, CA 91506
Tel: 1-818-972-2448

Hours of Operation:
Tue - Sat = 11am - 7pm
Sun = Noon - 5pm
Mon = Closed

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Stalking Klaus Kinski or How I Worshiped a Madman

by Kimberly Lindbergs | October 18, 2009

Categories | Rants & Raves, Actors, Klaus Kinski

Klaus Kinski b. October 18, 1926 - d. November 23, 1991

Today would have been Klaus Kinski’s 83rd birthday and in honor of the event I thought I’d share something I originally wrote about the actor back in 2003 on Valentine’s Day but have since expanded on.*

“One should judge a man mainly from his depravities. Virtues can be faked. Depravities are real.” - Klaus Kinski

I don’t get star-struck often. There are only a few celebrities that can make me weak-kneed and slack-jawed and one of them is the deceased, but not forgotten actor, Klaus Kinski.

When Klaus appears in a film it’s impossible to take your eyes off of him. He always manages to steal whatever scene he’s in. He’s not conventionally beautiful or typically handsome, but his face is a remarkable canvas that seems to exude life itself. You can see the poverty Klaus suffered as a child, the time he spent in asylums and prisons, his unhinged sexuality, passion for life and unbridled anger pouring out of his eyes and every pore of his ragged skin. Real or imagined, this is a man who lived and loved life. The myth of Klaus Kinski the actor and Klaus Kinski the man are one and the same. And I fell in-love with the whole package.

I watched Klaus in many movies while I was growing up and I was always drawn in by his presence. He appeared in countless horror films, thrillers and great spaghetti westerns throughout the ’60s and ’70s that ran on television when I was a kid and I couldn’t help but notice him. He was unlike anyone else on my TV. By the time I was a teenager I had seen at least 10 or 12 of Klaus Kinski’s films and I knew him by name. Klaus became one of my favorite performers and I started to actively seek out the movies he had appeared in whenever they played on television.

When I discovered Werner Herzog’s films in the late ’80s my interest in Klaus Kinski turned into a full blown obsession. Herzog is an amazing director and his films with Kinski such as Aguirre, Wrath of God (1972), Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979), Woyzeck (1979), Fitzcarraldo (1982) and Cobra Verde (1987) are all incredible movies that managed to capture Kinski’s unrestrained personality and exploit his acting talents to their fullest. I was also lucky enough to get my hands on a copy of Klaus Kinski’s autobiography in the late ’80s. Reading about Kinski in his own words was an eye-opening experience. His autobiography is a fascinating, lust-filled rant that is impossible to forget and to this day it remains one of the best books I’ve ever had the pleasure to read.

I didn’t have access to the internet or eBay back then so I had to satisfy my cravings for more Kinski by trying to locate the films he had appeared in on video at local rental shops or through mail-order catalogs. I also tried to buy posters for films that Klaus appeared in but that wasn’t an easy task. I did manage to get my hands on a poster for Aguirre, Wrath of God, which hung proudly on my wall announcing to anyone who noticed it that I was a card-carrying member of the Klaus Kinski fanclub.

In the summer of 1991 I was an impetuous and slightly naive young woman living with two friends who both worked at a local video store. I occasionally did part-time work there myself whenever I needed a few extra bucks. It was a popular place for film fanatics and it had one of the best selections of videos for rent in the entire Bay Area. Colorful locals like director George Lucas and Terry Zwigoff were regular customers and filmmakers like Les Blank often visited the store when they were doing research. When news got to me that Les Blank had started visiting the store I got really excited. I knew Les had worked with both Herzog and Kinski so I tried bumping into Les Balnk on the days the staff thought he might show up but it never happened. I didn’t have a car so when I got a call telling me Les was at the video store I could never get their quickly enough. Finally I got word in the late summer of 1991 that Les Blank had casually mentioned that Klaus Kinski was actually staying in the area for awhile. Then another customer who owned an art supply store in town started casually mentioning that a “creepy” German actor named Kinski was coming in regularly to buy art supplies at her shop. When this all got reported back to me I flipped out! In his later years Klaus spent a lot of his free time in the Bay Area focusing on his art. With this new information handed to me I became determined to meet Mr. Kinski.

I started going to the art supply store where Klaus Kinski was a regular customer whenever I could. I hung around aimlessly thumbing through books like How to Sketch a Nude for hours hoping that Klaus would suddenly appear. I don’t know what I expected to happen if I did see him. I imagined throwing myself at his feet and telling him how much I admired him even though I was sure that he would laugh at my groveling behavior. Maybe I hoped we’d end up at his Lagunitas home and get drunk on too much red wine while we talked for hours about art and cinema? Most likely I just wished that he would make crazy violent love to me right there in the art supply store and at the end of our passionate encounter we’d be covered in paints, pastels and charcoal while the other customers looked on in disbelief. Unfortunately whatever I dreamed up in my wild imagination never happened.

For almost two months I aimlessly hung around the art supply store waiting for Klaus to show up. The store owner was tolerant of me since I was the only person in her small shop most of the time and she was somewhat aware of my fascination with “creepy” Kinski. On one occasion I was told I had missed him by only 20 minutes. On another day I was told he had come in a day earlier. Then one afternoon the shop owner finally told me that she had not seen Kinski for a few weeks and thought he might have left town. I was devastated. But I didn’t give up and throughout the rest of the summer I occasionally stopped by the art supply store hoping Klaus would suddenly materialize there. I was sure that something of him had stayed behind amid the paint fumes and paper remnants. A hair strand? A fingerprint? A memory?

My quest to meet Klaus Kinski finally came to a sad end when I got word that he had died on November 23, 1991. It really pained me at the time since only weeks before I had been so close to meeting him. But now I knew that was never going to happen. I still feel close to Klaus whenever I see one of his films or watch him go head-to-head with Werner Herzog in My Best Fiend. Maybe it’s because I nearly met him? Or maybe it’s because I can understand Herzog’s appreciation and fascination with his friend since in some very small way I experienced it myself?

I’ve never stalked a celebrity before and I will never do it again. It’s not something I advocate or recommend but young girls tend to do impulsive and silly things when they’re obsessed with a boy. That said, I have no regrets about trying to meet Klaus Kinski during that long hot summer of ‘91. I think Klaus would have appreciated my harmless determination and mad devotion.

“There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.” - Nietzsche

Klaus Kinski in San Francisco

For more on Klaus Kinski I highly recommend visiting Dan Taylor’s terrific site The On-Line Guide to Klaus Kinski!

* An edited version of this piece was originally published in my Livejournal blog on Feb. 14, 2003.

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My Favorite Scream Queen

by Kimberly Lindbergs | October 11, 2009

Categories | Rants & Raves, Horror, Actresses, Barbara Steele

Fall has finally arrived in all its gold and copper splendor. As I’ve mentioned many times before, Autumn is my favorite season. Summer be damned! I’m more than happy to see it go and I look forward with unabashed glee to dark mornings, cold evenings and watching lots of horror movies during the month of October.

Over at the TCM Movie Morlocks’ blog Richard Harland Smith has gathered together a nice collection of links to other blogs that are spending the month focusing on all things spooky and scary. I personally recommend making some time to visit The Groovy Age of Horror, Arbogast on Film, Frankensteinia, Cinema Styles and Final Girl where the fun never ends and the dead never rest!

I hope to find some time to write about a few of my favorite horror films that are in desperate need of a DVD release before the month is over, but in the meantime I thought I’d share some lovely pictures that I recently came across of my favorite Scream Queen, the beautiful and terrifying Barbara Steele from a 1958 issue of Life magazine.

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Mid-Summer Movie Quiz

by Kimberly Lindbergs | August 16, 2009

Categories | Rants & Raves

Over at Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule you’ll find a new mid-summer movie quiz. Dennis Cozzalio regularly asks his readers and fellow film bloggers to share their thoughts and opinions about a variety of movie-related topics. Usually I just respond to his post, but new blogger comment limits have made that kind of difficult and I thought it might be wiser to share my quiz answers here.

1) Second-favorite Stanley Kubrick film.

A Clockwork Orange

2) Most significant/important/interesting trend in movies over the past decade, for good or evil.

Most annoying = the remakes. I’m incredibly tired of pointless and poorly done remakes. There are some remakes that I actually think are better or just as good as the original film such as John Carpenter’s The Thing and Cronenberg’s The Fly, but so many current remakes bring nothing new to the table and even degrade the original work. And even worse than that are the people who complain about remakes and still buy tickets to see them. Please Stop! If you don’t buy tickets the studios might start hiring writers again.

3) Bronco Billy (Clint Eastwood) or Buffalo Bill Cody (Paul Newman)?

Bronco Billy

4) Best Film of 1949.

It’s a tie between Carol Reed’s The Third Man and Kurosawa’s Stray Dog. Two films that share a hell of a lot in common and would make for one spectacular double feature.

5) Joseph Tura (Jack Benny) or Oscar Jaffe (John Barrymore)?

Since I haven’t seen either film I can’t answer this question.

6) Has the hand-held shaky-cam directorial style become a visual cliché?

Of course not. Any film technique that’s used well can be effective. The critical finger shaking going on about shaky-cam is much more annoying in my opinion. It’s like reading the reactions to sound when it first started appearing in silent movies. “It’s crude! It’s rude! It’s pointless and ineffective!” - I don’t agree.

7) What was the first foreign-language film you ever saw?

Albert Lamorisse’s The Red Balloon. I saw it on a rainy afternoon when I was in elementary school and only about 9 years old. I cried so much during the movie that my teacher threatened to send me to the school nurse.

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Modern Mondays: This Is England (2006)

by Kimberly Lindbergs | August 11, 2009

Categories | Movie Reviews, Rants & Raves, British Cinema, Modern Mondays

As someone who came of age during the ’80s, I’ve become increasingly disturbed by the critical response to director John Hughes’ recent death. Over and over again I’ve been told that he was “the voice” of my generation and that he “defined the ’80s.” Instead of pointing out the crass commercialism that made up the man’s entire film career, The New York Times has let A.O. Scott proclaim that John Hughes was “our Godard.”

John Hughes may have been many things to many people, but there’s just no denying that as a director his career had a hell of a lot more in common with Judd Apatow than Jean-Luc Godard. How any film critic that writes for The New York Times could call Hughes our generation’s Godard and get paid for it is beyond my comprehension. And as someone who was a teenager in the ’80s, I also find it deeply sad and frustrating.

I’m unabashedly naive and extremely sentimental when it comes to my childhood in the 1970s, but the 1980s ignites a different kind of nostalgia in me. It’s an unpleasant nostalgia that took shape while my innocence was melting away and my teenage hormones were raging. That teenage rage has carried into adulthood and occasionally manifests into fits of anger like the one you’re about to read.

It’s important to note that I’m not angry at John Hughes the man or the people who enjoy his films. I’m angry at the absurd critical response to the director’s death and I blame a culture that conveniently forgets facts in order to build critical arguments. If the cultural pundits and film critics are to be believed, an entire generation bought what John Hughes was selling them. But the truth is much more complex than that.

Hughes made films for mainstream America that resembled the Gidget movies of the late 1950s and early ‘60s. As a rebellious teenager I absolutely hated Hughes’ films. Hughes’ simplistic, Reagan-fueled, whitewashed, upper middle-class view of the world reflected everything that was loathsome about the ’80s in my mind. Hughes was a conservative baby boomer and a yuppie that spoon-feed my generation - so-called Generation X - the worst kind of ’50s nostalgia imaginable in order to make a buck. His films didn’t speak to me at all since I had much more in common with James Dean than Gidget and John Hughes was no Nicholas Ray.

I’m told in countless obits written about John Hughes that some segment of ’80s youth culture found comfort in the way that his movies portrayed teenagers as well as outsiders and malcontents. But if you were actually questioning authority during the ’80s it was impossible to identify with any of the faux rebellion found in Hughes’ movies. The man preached conformity over and over again. The so-called “outsiders” in Hughes’ films rejected other teens like themselves so they could date popular jocks or beauty queens. In other words, if you followed the social rules laid out by John Hughes you’d get a “hot date” for the school prom and be “accepted” into Reagan’s America. Reality check; the real teenage rebels and outsiders didn’t go to school proms in the ’80s. They also skipped detention.

The myth of John Hughes giving voice to my generation is much like the myth of the ’80s in general that has been perpetuated by silly television shows like VH1’s I Love the ’80s. But contrary to popular opinion, many of us who came of age in the ’80s didn’t buy what Reagan and the Hollywood machine that marched in boot step behind him were selling us and John Hughes was a hugely successful part of that Hollywood machine. Those of us who resisted the machine didn’t live in gated communities or spend our days in shopping malls. Some of us actually attended “Rock Against Reagan” protests and after the initial excitement wore off many of us didn’t want our MTV. We watched AIDS destroy entire communities as the homeless spilled out into our streets. We saw the drug wars destroy families and fill our prisons. We spent our time trying to self-publish zines that expressed our anger and frustration as a compassionless and cruel conservatism swept across America threatening to suffocate the country. And last but certainly not least, we watched class warfare and racism take root in our high schools as they crumbled from lack of funding. The ’80s was a scary decade to grow up in unless you conformed to rigid social structures and didn’t question authority. And the films that John Hughes’ made seemed to perpetuate a kind of thoughtless conformism that is frankly appalling to me and still prevalent today.

Of course many people did buy the American fantasy that John Hughes and the establishment were selling them. Many didn’t see the casual racism and sexism that was evident in many of Hughes’ most popular films. Some people clearly sympathized with the materialistic nature of his characters and I’m glad that so many have found some kind of joy in Hughes’ movies. But the fantasy world featured in John Hughes’ films was not representative of the ’80s youth culture that I came of age in and Hughes did not speak for me.

Thankfully some directors who actually came of age during the ’80s are now old enough to make films that truly reflect the decade as I remember it. One of those directors is British born Shane Meadows. Meadows’ unforgettable 2006 film This Is England takes place in Britain during the 1980s and attempts to show how the skinhead culture that took root there developed into an angry nationalistic movement. Many of the kids featured in Meadows’ film are fatherless and form a kind of family with other young people who share their taste in music and wear similar clothes. Much like Reagan’s America, Thatcher’s England presented British youth with a very bleak future and Meadows’ film skillfully chronicles the underlying frustration and resentment that so many young people from working class families were feeling at the time.

Shortsighted film critics often overlook how much of Meadows’ movie can be seen as a general critique of the decade it calls into question. And I think that is symptomatic of the increasing ignorance about what youth culture was really like in America during the ’80s. Point of fact; you could easily take Meadow’s terrific script, set it in San Francisco during the ’80s and simply call it This Is America.

In This Is England the main protagonist is haunted by his father’s death in the Falklands War. If you grew up in California during the ‘80s it wasn’t uncommon to know 2 or 3 kids who had lost their fathers in the Vietnam War and you often sat in classrooms with Vietnamese refuges. The Falklands War may have ended in 1982 and the Vietnam War may have ended in 1975, but both wars left my generation with fatherless kids and a whole lot of baggage. Many of the kids I knew also had their families torn apart by divorces or deadbeat dads who just walked out the door one day and never returned. Families were falling apart as fast as the economy. Reagan’s America might have looked financially sound if you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth but for many Americans it was a decade of increasing job losses, forced early retirements and an all out war against organized labor. College wasn’t an option for myself or most of the kids I knew. It was a luxury that few of us could afford. Without a supportive family and a college fund, the future looked incredibly bleak which often led to an increase in recreational drug use. Like the kids in Meadows’ film, we ended up forming makeshift families simply based on our musical tastes and wardrobes. But our clothing wasn’t just worn for kicks. What we wore often reflected our social class and attitudes. In other words, wearing an anarchy t-shirt wasn’t just a fashion statement. It was a social statement that could get you kicked out of school in the ’80s.

Many of us who grew up on the West Coast in Reagan’s America also faced our own skinhead crisis thanks to a group who called themselves the American Front. The American Front was an organization loosely based on England’s National Front that is prominently featured in Shane Meadows’ film. Older members of the American Front often preyed on vulnerable and angry young men that they recruited off the streets. A new and deeply disturbing form of Nazism encouraged these young people to engage in violence and proudly sport swastika tattoos. They naively started to believe that immigrants, homosexuals, communists and socialists were destroying the country and they blamed them for the failing economy. The American Front became a dangerous threat to groups of neglected kids who had come together due to lack of family and outside support. As the ’80s progressed music clubs that once represented a small oasis where you could hangout with like-minded individuals began to casually transform into minor war zones after these white power obsessed skinheads latched onto the punk and metal scenes. In this kind of environment you were forced to grow up fast and your political identity was often formed before your 18th birthday.

You won’t see any of that ‘80s reality represented in the films of John Hughes.

Teenage me in the ’80s (wearing a James Dean t-shirt!) & the female cast of This Is England

John Hughes never spoke to me, but Shane Meadows does. Meadows is a truly talented filmmaker and if you want to know what the ’80s was really like for those of us on the fringe who were trying to make sense of the world that was left to us watch This Is America England. I should point out that This Is England takes some of its cues from other films about troubled youth such as Truffaut’s classic The 400 Blows and Penelope Spheeris’ Suburbia (which I also think is a better film about the ’80s than anything made by John Hughes), but Meadows’ packs enough punches and truth into his script to make it a truly original film and one of the best of the decade. This Is England also boasts some terrific performances from it’s two lead actors, Thomas Turgoose and particularly Stephen Graham as the deeply disturbed Combo.

At a time when it has become increasingly clear to me that very few people actually remember what the ’80s were really like I take comfort in a film like This Is England. Shane Meadows obviously remembers the decade well. And although This Is England is a very British film, Americans would be wise to watch the movie with their own country’s history in mind because many of the problems we face today are just remnants of unfinished business from that often misrepresented decade.

This Is England is available on DVD from Amazon and you can find it for rent at Netflix and Greencine.

Modern Mondays is an ongoing project here at Cinebeats where I share a few thoughts or lengthy rants and raves about my favorite films produced during the last decade. Films previously mentioned on Modern Mondays include:

- The Left Bank (2008)
- Love Songs (2007)
- Bright Future (2003)
- Control (2007)
- The Quiet American (2001)
- A History of Violence (2005)

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