I got to go on Caliber 9 From Outer Space to talk with The Great Waldo Pepper. It was a fantastic conversation about pretty, selfish heroes, deeply flawed ones, and Slap Shot's amazing women. The episode is here and here, as well as in your podcatcher of choice.

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I. Francine
Francine is proudly, uncompromisingly living her own life. She still cares very much for Reggie,…

Some spoilers ahead.

A rape-revenge story in which the (barely metaphorical) rape gives its victim superpowers that she chooses to nourish only with the blood of men who want her body.* Men she effortlessly seduces with transparent lies and come-ons, which they all swallow because they want them to be true — and because they've been taught that girls who show off their bodies are sluts, and can be had by any man who wants them.

A classic superhero tale…

I appreciate Agnes Varda's Documenteur more in theory than in practice.

Are you holding up?
No.

A serious film about a divorced mother teetering on the edge of poverty and emotional collapse while she works to find housing and take care of her young son sounds right up my alley. The problem is that it never coheres into anything more than gestures toward depth and importance, as if (as with Mur Murs) Varda expects the viewer to fill in the…

As far as Esther Williams vehicles go, Thrill of a Romance is a bit of a damp squib. She hardly swims at all (GASP), and an enormous percentage of the film is dedicated not to Williams, the pool, and/or her character's romance, but rather to Lauritz Melchior, a Danish opera singer making his film debut. Playing a sort of singing, less bumbling S. Z. Sakall character, Melchior belts out more than half a dozen songs, and dispenses romantic advice in…

Women are alone.

Sarbajaya is alone. She has time only to prepare food and care for her family. Sometimes, she can eat, but we never see her sleep — not once. There is no Sarbajaya, apart from her responsibilities.

Her husband gives their children money because he loves to see them joyful; Sarbajaya is miserly so that she can give their children the food they need to stay alive, if only just. She is the source of discipline in their…

I love this movie beyond measure. I love its chokingly lyrical (and so very Raymond Chandler), inch perfect screenplay. I love its dark humor, and the absurdity of glamorous Phyllis and anxious Walter skulking around a grocery store so aggressively sterile it seems to come from inside the monolith in 2001. I love the long takes, and the way the austerity of Billy Wilder's shooting style contrasts so perfectly with the labyrinthine language and tale it's recording. But, most of…