Monthly Archives: July 2020

The Masked Stinger

This picture is all the rage in Indonesia. Sometimes literally.

The modern-day mummy has no identity, no age, not even a gender. Critics of photojournalist Joshua Irwandi’s snapshot have called last week’s picture a callous, sterile look and the human suffering exacted by a global pandemic. Even Fred Ritchin, dean emeritus of the International Center of Photography, defended the picture’s publication but conceded, “To me, the image was of someone being thrown out, discarded, wrapped in cellophane, sprayed with disinfectant, mummified, dehumanized, othered.”

Exactly. Which is why we need to see more like it.

You gotta hand it to COVID-19. It’s a helluva serial killer. Since New Year’s Eve 2019, it has invaded every continent on Earth, infected 16 million, killed more than 640,000 and left the global economy a quadriplegic.

Yet we still don’t have a face for it. That’s due  in part to COVID’s demands we cover our faces in its grip, an almost Lecter-ian twist of cruelty. We are faceless to the death.

Even when it kills us, COVID leaves few witnesses. We cannot visit the stricken in hospitals or hospice. We cannot see the bodies. Routinely, we are kept from a burial. From memorial. From finality.

This has to be considered unacceptable. We should put faces on things. Faces launch human ships. Anthropomorphize. We need to see what we are fighting — and, more importantly,  what we are fighting for.

After all, we have faces for:

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  • Peacefamous photographer Margaret Bourke-White's iconic photo of Ghandi spinning wool taken in 1946
  • WarSyria: Little boy in Aleppo a reminder of war's horror - CNN
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So for now, this is the face of COVID. I get the mummy analogies. They’re hard to miss. But to me, I can’t help but think of a spider-webbed insect, freshly wrapped and sapped after a moment of distraction. I guess each viewer will see something different. Perhaps that’s the point.

Deja Viewed: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

Ferris Bueller's Day Off – IFC Center

Some art has a lyrical note to it.

Not in the overt sense, like you’d find in symphonies, operas, ballets and musicals on stage and screen. But in a more sublime sense, particularly in the visual arts.

Whether it’s a memorable theme song (M*A*S*H*, Cheers) or a show fully aware of the music of its time or place (Mad Men, Breaking Bad, Community), some pieces just feel like they can carry a tune. Like porn, it’s hard to define. But you know it when you see it. Here’s how to tell whether art is lyrical. Think of a favorite show or film. Did it introduce (or, better yet, re-introduce) you to a song, singer, band or genre?  If so, it’s lyrical.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is the lyrical film incarnate. From Ferris singing Danke Schoen in the shower to the introduction of Yello’s Oh Yeah, the trailer for director John Hughes’ 1986 film announces up front: Either get in rhythm, or get out of the way.

But how could we get out of the way of this irresistible movie? Bueller would not only become one of the Mount Rushmore faces of the modern high school comedy; it would seal John Hughes’ reputation as the Hollywood voice of Generation X adolescence. Between Bueller, The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles and Pretty in Pink, Hughes wrote the book on teenage suburban angst — and set a template that exists to this day.Vintage Pick: John Hughes Triple Threat | The Harbinger Online

Bueller, though, breaks from its predecessors by not taking itself so seriously. If anything, Bueller is a zen meditation compared to the psychopathy of the earlier films. Ferris doesn’t fret school; he sees principals as comic foils. He’s Bart Simpson in a cardigan and beret.

Which may explain the lyrical joy of the movie. Hughes packs Bueller with as many logic-straining adventures as any classic Matt Groening episode, complete with unexpected musical numbers. In an 1 1/2 hours, Ferris:

  • Jacks a Ferrari.

  • Visits the Chicago Museum of Art.

  • Catches a Cubs game.

  • And crashes the real annual Chicago parade.

All while crooning, dancing and lip-syncing his way out of the clutches of infantile Principal Rooney. Ferris professes an enlightened rationalization for his 10th absence of the school year: “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” Name another high school film with that message at its core.

Bueller even manages to accomplish the heretofore impossible: improve a Beatles tune. Close your eyes at the 2:20 mark of the Chicago parade; see if Twist and Shout doesn’t sound better with a horn section, clapping hands, stomping feet and a chorus of rising voices.

Which is, ultimately, what makes  Bueller so catchy. Don’t just stop and look around, the movie seems to implore. Stop and sing out.

There’s a wistful element to Bueller, The movie would mark Hughes’ (who died at 59) last high school film, as his pictures would later focus on what Ferris might have become as a dad (She’s Having a Baby), a divorcee (Uncle Buck) or both (Planes, Trains and Automobiles).

Right before Twist and Shout, the film ponders Ferris’ future after high school. Bueller’s buddy Cameron suggests Ferris will become a fry cook on Venus. In DVD commentary, Hughes saw a future of extremes. Ferris would either wind up in prison, the director speculated, or he’d become president.

We should be so lucky. To quote the would-be future king: Anda one, anda two…