Same Vogel chapter as The Spanish Earth, “Left and Revolutionary Cinema: the West.” Useful to note that Vogel is never posting lists of his favorite movies, but the ones that illustrate a particular quality or movement – he spends half this chapter complaining about early 1970s Godard.

Unfortunately, the resultant films – from British Sounds to Tout Va Bien – prove that to “will” political cinema into being without the mediation of art is self-defeating. Despite brilliant sequences (reminiscent of the “old” Godard), these works are visually sterile, intellectually shallow, and, in terms of their overbearing, insistent soundtracks didactic, pedantic, dogmatic.


The Cry of Jazz (1959, Edward Bland)

“Rock and roll is not jazz.” Argument within a college(?) jazz club about whether only Black people could have created jazz, the white boys arguing that there are plenty of white players so race has nothing to do with it. Narrator Alex explains how music works (repeating chorus, changes/harmonies) and how jazz has evolved, culminating in the hottest group of today, the Sun Ra Arkestra. While the kids are stuck arguing in their musicless bland room, our camera hits the streets and the clubs seeking examples for Alex’s explanations. After a savage scene comparing Black life (pool game) to white life (poodle getting a haircut), eventually there’s a short debate over whether Americans have souls, concluding ambivalently: “America’s soul is an empty void.” For a half-hour movie that begins looking like a MST3K educational short, this sure takes some wild turns.

The two restraining elements in jazz are the form and the changes. They are restraining because of their endless repetition, in much the same way that the Negro experiences the endless daily humiliation of American life, which bequeaths him a futureless future. In conflict with America’s gift of a futureless future is the Negro’s image of himself. Through glorifying the inherent joy and freedom in each present moment of life, the Negro transforms America’s image of him into a transport of joy. Denied a future, the joyous celebration of the present is the Negro’s answer to America’s ceaseless attempts to obliterate him. Jazz is a musical expression of the Negro’s eternal recreation of the present. The Negro’s freeing worship of the present in jazz occurs through the constant creation of new ideas in jazz. These new ideas are born by improvising through the restraints of the form and the changes. Jazz reflects the improvised life thrust upon the Negro. Now, melody is one element which can be used in improvisation. The soloist creates this melody through elaborating on various details of the changes. The manner in which each change shall be elaborated upon is a problem of the eternal present. As Negro life admits of many individual solutions, so does the way in which a change can be elaborated upon. Of course the Negro, as man and/or jazzman, must be constantly creative, for that is how he remains free. Otherwise, the dehumanizing portrait America has drawn of him will triumph.

Editor Howard Alk worked on Dylan movies, and one of the jazz club girls grew up to be Magnolia‘s Rose Gator. Bland went on to arrange for Sun Ra in New York and compose orchestral works. From his NY Times obituary:

The British critic Kenneth Tynan, in a column for The London Observer, wrote that it “does not really belong to the history of cinematic art, but it assuredly belongs to history” as “the first film in which the American Negro has issued a direct challenge to the white.”


I’m a Man (1969, Peter Rosen)

“Police are always frightened.” John walks through a Connecticut town carrying a spear in order to provoke white people, then calls his wife to say he’s about to be arrested. The doc(?) interviews people from John’s court case: the whites think he’s incompetent, the blacks realize he’s an intellectual. John sees himself as a militant, says he expects to die poor and hated, but aims to increase freedom for his kids.


Wholly Communion (1966, Peter Whitehead)

Something completely different: document of a post-beatnik pre-hippie poetry reading in June 1965 at Royal Albert Hall. “This evening is an experiment” – with minor crowd disturbance or drama or movement, it’s mostly just guys reading poetry with better-than-decent sound recording.

Ginsberg listens and waits his turn:

J.S. Bach Fantasy in G Minor (1965)

Organist wedges an apple in his mouth and gets to work. The rest is a Bach music video, focused on decaying walls, locks and grates, with stop-motion interludes of gashes and holes appearing in pulsating rows. Finally all the doors are thrown open and the camera rushes into the streets, confronted with a whole new world of decaying walls and locks.


Et Cetera (1966)

Exuberant little movie with better music than the Bach (sorry). Three parts in seven minutes, each piece an action that reaches a loop point then fullscreen letters exclaim ETC, ETC, ETC. Of course the film begins with FINE so when it reaches the end, the entire piece is a loop, ETC ETC, until the film material melts in lovely stop-motion.


Punch and Judy (1966)

Incredible, two puppets fight over the price or possession of a live guinea pig, burying and mutilating each other in turn. Jan’s editing and close-ups have never been better.


Historia Nature Suite (1967)

Different families of animals in rapid montage (birds obvs. the best segment), combining artistic/scientific drawings, taxidermy, and live creatures into an edited whirl, each part ending with an extreme closeup of a guy eating creature-meat.


The Garden (1968)

Gardener takes his guest Fred home, tries to show off his prize rabbits but Fred is too distracted by the garden’s living fence (a chain of humans around the property holding hands). The gardener tells some secrets about the fencemen, unheard by us, and the guest immediately joins the fence. Live actors and the vaguely folk-horror scenario set this one apart.


Don Juan (1970)

Juan’s dad won’t lend him money, so the Don smashes his dad’s head in. Juan’s chosen girl’s dad disapproves, so the Don cuts the old man’s face off. Juan’s brother Felipe, beloved of the girl, seeks Juan in the forest to take revenge, so the Don stabs his brother full of holes. Then the girl’s dad returns as a vengeful ghost who sends Don Juan to hell. Some of the usual delights, and the effect of actors wearing giant eyeless marionette-suits is fun, but much of this is the people/puppets standing around and announcing their dialogue.


The Castle of Otranto (1977)

Documentary interview with a researcher who discovered that a Czech castle was the setting for an old Italian novel, with nearby caves and secret passages and armor fragments matching those in the book. Svank and the viewer grow tired of this at about the same time, and he switches focus to animating the book’s illustrations, retelling the story of a young woman being chased around by all the castle’s men until the castle is destroyed by a giant, who also interrupts the (fake) interview.


Another Kind of Love (1988)

Music video for a bland-looking British singer (Hugh Cornwell of The Stranglers) who seems to have been patient with the stop-motion process and allowed his clay doppelganger to be hilariously mutilated. Snappy editing.


Virile Games (1988)

Viewer watches a soccer game on TV but it’s a harlem-globetrottin’ version of soccer where points are scored by attacking the opposing players’ faces with foreign objects until their clay heads implode. The ball gets kicked through the viewer’s apartment window and the game is relocated to his cramped living room, not that he notices. Also: the viewer, the ref, and all the players are the same actor.

Rainer, a Vicious Dog in Skull Valley (2023, Bertrand Mandico)


We Barbarians (2023, Bertrand Mandico)

These are backstage meta-Conan spinoffs, the first one cycling through playwright trance-purgatory, the second a series of character monologues, always ending in hell and death.


Healthy, Wealthy and Dumb (1938, Del Lord)

Curly is entering slogan/jingle contests like it’s Christmas in July, and he wins for “coffin nail cigarettes.” Three hot girls in their same hotel plan to marry them for the money, but alas, everybody is lying and poor.


Violent Is the Word for Curly (1938, Charley Chase)

They work at a gas station and dance around a car saying “super service!” while destroying the vehicle and its posh occupants. Then after they are mistaken for those three automobile-owning visiting professors, there is a musical number, which had me briefly enraged until I gave in to the gleeful idiocy. The weird title is a play on the now-forgotten oscar-nominated drama Valiant Is the Word for Carrie about a Southern prostitute moving north.


Three Missing Links (1938, Jules White)

They go to “Africa” and tangle with a gorilla and (another) lion… okay, that’s enough of these for now.

Street Musique (1972 Ryan Larkin)

Intro of street musicians, then a set of short songs illustrated in fluidtoons style, from pens to watercolors, absolutely gonzo and excellent.


Symphony Hour (1942 Riley Thomson)

Mickey predating the opera-conducting Bugs. Their sponsor Mr. Macaroni puts their orchestra on live radio but Goofy has trashed all the instruments on the way over, so they sound like a cartoon (or PDQ Bach) and to the sponsor’s surprise it’s a huge hit. Newly restored in HD to bring you the only known scene of Mickey threatening Donald with a gun.


Moving Day (1936)

While the Mickey disc is out, let’s play some from Jerry Beck’s list. Mickey and Donald are deadbeat roommates being evicted by the sheriff and Goofy is an ice delivery man enlisted into helping them. Someone rings their doorbell till it falls off, which I just saw happen to Laurel & Hardy. Largely this one’s about how Goofy should not be hired to help you move, or even deliver your ice, as he duels with a piano possessed by trickster spirits, but also a fair bit of time devoted to Donald getting things stuck on his ass. A Ben Sharpsteen joint, a couple years after his Two-Gun Mickey.


Thru the Mirror (1936)

Mickey falls asleep reading Lewis Carroll and dreams himself into a sort of Pee Wee’s Playhouse version of Wonderland, bearing no resemblance to the version Disney would make fifteen years later. There is a battalion of playing cards, which is all in good fun until Mickey gets cheeky with the queen. David Hand directed, the year between Who Killed Cock Robin and Snow White.

Why don’t you pass the time by playing a little solitaire?


Mickey’s Trailer (1938)

Mickey and buddies ride their House of Leaves fully-automated trailer across the country. An early warning against self-driving vehicles. Ben Sharpsteen directed, between Clock Cleaners and Dumbo.


Lonesome Ghosts (1937)

Mickey shorts weren’t really on TV in the 80s, but I know their Ghostbusters story well because we had the talking-pages storybook. The fully produced version is much less scary for some reason, though it does have Mickey waving guns around again, and more Donald ass-trauma. The ghosts telephone our guys themselves just to mess with them. Burt Gillett directed, the year before Brave Little Tailor.


Bad Luck Blackie (1949 Tex Avery)

Mean dog torments little kitty until kitty hires the titular Blackie, who crosses the dog’s path causing objects to fall on his head. An exoeriment in all the shapes a dog can be bent into while still being recognizably the dog. Sorry, this is many times better than any of the Disneys. Weird Kitty Foyle reference.


Porky’s Spring Planting (1938 Frank Tashlin)

We’re planning our own spring planting, let’s see if this is instructive… (1) get a hat with eyeball window wipers, (2) get dog to do the work for you, (3) neighborhood birds end up eating everything. Weird social security joke, and Porky pronounces asparagus “ass-pah-RAH-gus.”


Hen Hop (1942 Norman McLaren)

Short hand-drawn cameraless chicken dance synched to music – McLaren was the commercial Stan Brakhage.

Feather Family (2023 Alison Folland)

Mashup of backyard children home movies (distressed film) and glitchy 3D bird-based video game (clipping, strobing). The hawk eats a pigeon, the kid’s broom has googly eyes.


Mockingbird (2020 Kevin Jerome Everson)

Watching the watcher: very shaky handheld of a Mississippi Air Force guy looking through binoculars. Sadly, no birds appear, at least none I could make out.


Ornithology 6 (2021 Bill Brand)

Ugly green fence footage splintered into pieces, vaguely in the shape of a flock of birds. Silent, endless.


NYC RGB (2023 Viktoria Schmid)

Static shots of interior/exterior buildings with light and shadows refracted into rainbows, really cool effect, ambient soundtrack. Clouds and traffic are not immune to the rainbowing.


A Portrait of Ga (1952 Margaret Tait)

Her mom smokes outside while gardening and hanging out, and she smokes inside while having a half-melted hard candy. Light narration, nice color, file alongside Mr. Hayashi.

Cayley James in Cinema Scope:

A series of portraits and close readings of the places she called home, Tait’s “film poems” (as she called them) invite the viewer into a familiar but altogether hypnotic vision of everyday life. While there is an air of the home movie about the movement of her handheld 16mm camera, there is something far more exploratory here than in the average diary film … In this foundational early work, Tait’s camera is drawn to things that would become her visual vocabulary throughout her career — hands, bird calls, flora and fauna, the cut of a dress — while eschewing the easy route of picture-postcard views afforded by Orkney’s windswept landscapes.


Information (1966 Hollis Frampton)

More like interlaced-formation, ugh. The intended image is lost by being broken into video-stripes, but the intended image is just wiggly white flashlight dots on a black background, silent.


Prince Ruperts Drops (1969 Hollis Frampton)

A lollipop is licked in extreme closeup, then from the other angle. We give a guy a lot of free passes on stuff like this when the guy also made Zorns Lemma. Halfway through it switches to first-person basketball dribbling, in approx. the same rhythm as the licking. The title refers to strong glass beads formed by dropping (dribbling?) molten glass into cold water.


A and B in Ontario (1984 Hollis Frampton & Joyce Wieland)

1967 home movies of these two taking home movies of each other, pausing only to reload. The game of camera warfare escapes the house and spills into the yard then all through town, hiding behind cars and lampposts, then to a park by the water. Casual back-and-forth editing until the last couple minutes when it takes some big swinging camera moves and shatters them into each other. Interesting edit overall, since you’re watching someone filming then cutting to their POV but usually/always at a different time, not to the reverse angle you’d expect.


From Soup to Nuts (1928 Edgar Kennedy)

In Laurel & Hardy’s first couple minutes on the job they ruin a meal, attack the chef, and break a pile of plates. Long sidetrack of the hostess attempting to eat a cherry atop her fruit cocktail, lot of cake-smashing and banana peel-slipping. Finally they’re straight-up punching their boss.

The hostess is L&H/Charley Chase regular Anita Garvin, her tall husband was featured in Modern Times. The tail end of silent comedy, fun music with sfx on the DVD. Appreciate that the traveling camera following the hostess’s wiggly ass is repeated to follow Stan when he comes out to serve (“undressed”) salad in his underwear.


Nocturne (2006 Peter Tscherkassky)

More classic film destruction for The Mozart Minute project, this time scenes of a masked ball and a girl escaping out her window, the Mozart soundtrack creatively degraded to match the picture.


Parallel Space Inter-View (1992 Peter Tscherkassky)

Not conveyable with screenshots since it’s a flicker film, alternating frames between parallel spaces. Intertitles are typed live onto a Mac word processor, like the closing credits of my own Godzilla 2. Good soundtrack, ambient noise loops. Halfway in, we get our classic narrative film footage quota, silent and strobed into some psychotronic nude woman.


Hotel des Invalides (1951 Georges Franju)

Fanciful little doc focusing on a war museum within the grand veterans hospital in Paris, made a couple years after Blood of the Beasts.

They saved Napoleon’s dog:


In Order Not to Be Here (2002 Deborah Stratman)

Opens with refilmed video of a police arrest, proceeds to a glaring spelling error in the title text, and we’re not starting out promisingly. The rest is good, a narration-free video essay on fences, walls, gated communities, surveillance – commerce centers at night. Halfway through the police presence returns, culminating in an epic chase, all (per the credits) staged.


Pitcher of Colored Light (2007 Robert Beavers)

Everyday backyard light and shadow, cutting every couple seconds. Like if Portrait of Ga had fewer life details and was five times as long. This one is rare, anyway. The short that convinced me to stop watching shorts. Anachronistic, that timeless 16mm color makes it feel like the 60s or 70s, you would never guess 2007.

The titular pitcher:

I got hung up on the “Straining Towards the Limits” chapter, also covered in posts 12 and 13, where Vogel discusses the elimination of: reality, the image, the screen, the camera, the artist.

Paul Sharits:

N:O:T:H:I:N:G (1968)

Color fields flicker and fade. Would be a different experience in the front row of a screening, swallowing the colors with your eyes, but if you can see the whole frame on TV your lasting impression is Square, like a flipbook of colored post-it notes. Our only figures among the fields were titles and lightbulb, and I figured this was silent so I put on the new Animal Collective live album, but a chair appeared halfway through with a buzzer noise that was pretty much absorbed by the music.


T,O,U,C,H,I,N,G (1969)

A guy having his face clawed off in two-frame flicker-motion, the soundtrack repeating the word “destroy” – then he’s cutting off his tongue with scissors Ichi-style. The flicker motion changes speed and intensity, reds and purples prevail, and the single letters appearing on occasion spell out the title. Pretty annoying! I’m missing the point as usual by watching a good video of this at home in 2025 with an IPA instead of at an underground film screening in 1969 out of my mind on hallucinogens.


Peter Kubelka:

Arnulf Rainer (1960)

Simply square black-or-white flicker patterns with stuttering static noise. I would have proposed swapping the titles of the flicker-film (Arnulf Rainer) with the mini-doc of Arnulf Rainer (Pause!) but that’s why Kubelka had a significant influence on the European and American avant-garde and I did not. Vogel: “This is the first frame-by-frame abstraction that entirely dispenses with the image and consists solely of carefully orchestrated alternations of blank black or white frames.”

Unsere Afrikareise (1966)

Germans on safari, blasting every wild creature they see and staring at nude women, a travel doc with sound, re-edited into more interesting structure than these things usually are, but not interesting enough to make it worth watching these dudes shoot zebras and elephants.


Robert Breer:

Inner and Outer Space (1960)

I think he’s animating airplanes (over Germany) in a very abstract way, all dots and lines, bombers and skywriting. Explodes into new subjects: red ball in obstacle course, brief sketch of people on the subway. Cool one.


Horse Over Tea Kettle (1962)

Opens with a frog then introduces a whole range of objects and creatures (no horses or tea kettles that I noticed). These things will eventually fall down on the scene like rain, then fly back up into the sky. In between, everything transforms into something else, because why even work in animation unless you’re gonna transform things into something else?

Sitney:

he directly attacked the conventions of the cartoon while working within it … he transforms and moves these conventional figures within an intricate orchestration of expectations and surprises involving changes of scale, direction, virtual depth, and above all movement off the screen at all four edges

PBL 2 (1968)

The year 1968 got to Breer, who turned away from abstraction to make a one-minute two-part social issues parable, craving the oscar nomination that Windy Day got instead.


Rubber Cement (1976)

Captioned scenes of the dog playing in the yard, animated in different styles, becoming more complex and intense, with periods of strobing. Focus turns to the means of production (xerox machine and rubber cement), aircraft are introduced, the whole scene melts into pure shape and color.

It’s Not Me (2024)

Real Godardian (complimentary)


Sans Titre (1997)

Possibly the genesis of the new film, a rare Cannes film made of short clips (magma, classic cinema, war, home movies, the in-progress Pola X) with voiceover, Leonard Cohen, Scott Walker. At least one clip of The Crowd appeared in both films.


Strangulation Blues (1980)

Mostly nighttime scenes, invisible under the low-res video murk. Collette’s occasional guy Paul comes home and everything he says is a cine-reference, then after fearing he might have strangled her in his sleep (he didn’t) Paul drives off again. I think it was mainly voiceover, but as I mentioned, I couldn’t see much.


My Last Minute (2006)

Gag video, where he types onto his computer that he’s quitting smoking, puts out the last cigarette then immediately shoots himself.


and a couple 2002 music videos he did for Carla Bruni – first a single take of her singing and playing acoustic on a couch while a guy carrying a candle stalks the next apartment over. The next one seems like it will be a single take of her walking through a cobwebby tunnel, until she stops during the guitar solo to dance with an old man who was walking the other way. Bruni is the sister of Valeria Bruni Tedeschi – these songs are from her smash hit debut album released six years before she married the president of France.

The Fourth Dimension (1936)

Right after I watch the movie Deja Vu there’s a “Deja Vu” title card in It’s Not Me, then the first Painleve film I find is showing time as an image flipbook and imagining that higher-dimensional beings can change pages at will. Pretty dry science film but it’s fun that scientists have always been excited about time travel.


The Octopus (1927)

Pretty random assortment of live and dead octopus…
Great doc, because octupusus are great.


Sea Urchins (1929)

More cool sea creatures which become increasingly disturbing as you learn more about them, zooming into their spiny surface to discover a horrid living forest of waggling suckers and claws


Daphnia (1928)

Nothing cool or cute about the microshrimp “water fleas,” ghastly transparent insectoid monsters, silently battling their nemesis The Hydra by the million in every lake and pond.


Freshwater Assassins (1947)

This one has sound – enjoy some swinging horn jazz while underwater insects munch on even smaller insects, 24 minutes of weird shrimpies chowing down on each other.

L’emission a deja commence (2023, Bertrand Mandico)

Puppet people talk about truth in media and introduce a series of pissing-fruit cartoons. How do you explain this sort of thing to potential investors?


The Last Cartoon (2022, Bertrand Mandico)

Kind of partly a cartoon – some abstract brightly-colored patterns – but the performance-art people take over, narrating in French and English about conflicting futures of cinema.


Four Unloved Women Adrift… (2023, David Cronenberg)

The autopsy mannequins make heated moaning sounds.
Mostly close-ups, only showing the full scene at the end.


The Menacing Eye (1960, Jerzy Skolimowski)

If my first short had been a stylish silent 2-minute backstage knife-throwing drama, I would also have grown up to become Jerzy Skolimowski.


Little Hamlet (1960, Jerzy Skolimowski)

A small group hanging around a half-demolished building plays out a silent slapstick story with musical narration which is sort-of a loose version of Hamlet.


The Miu Miu Affair (2024, Laura Citarella)

Meant to be another fashion ad like the Luca and the Lynch, but LC makes a Trenque Lauquen spinoff, a mystery about a missing fashion model that gets increasingly hazy and vague. it’s not great exactly, but it’s great for one of these.


Let Your Heart Be Light (2016, Romvari & Campbell)

She trims the tree while half-watching Meet Me in St. Louis on a laptop and drinking from her Chantal Akerman mug, then switches to a mix of trad-xmas songs before Sophy comes over to hang out.


I’m Hungry, I’m Cold (1984, Chantal Akerman)

The one who looks familiar is Maria de Medeiros (The Saddest Music in the World), the less hungry one is Pascale Salkin of Gang of Four. The most charming and fast-paced Akerman movie since Saute me ville?


and some auteur music videos…

PJ Harvey – I Inside The Old I Dying (Cocina & Leon)

The Wolf House team creates the illusion of a days-long journey within a single room, so cool. Man gets chomped to death by a beast, man’s dog grabs one of his bones and buries it, it grows into a tree.

New Order – Blue Monday (Breer & Wegman)

The main things happening here are (1) Breer animation, (2) a dog balancing on furniture, (3) the band members being bothered by floating tennis balls. These things get integrated in fun ways (e.g. the band members watch a flipbook of Breer’s drawings of the dog).

The Breeders – Divine Hammer (Richard Kern)

The focus is on Kim pulling poses indoors, and the other three have a minor thread going on a tour of strip clubs. They should’ve cut out the shots of Kim as the Flying Nun.

The Roches – Hammond Song (Lewis Klahr)

Lewis does his clip-art mashup thing. Lucky me to find this right after discovering the group – I’ve been playing their debut album this week. He made this forty years after the song came out.

Mystical Weapons – Colony Collapse Disorder (Martha Colburn)

Instrumental guitar rock by Sean Lennon and Greg Saunier, the only song here I didn’t already know. More clip-art, the religious and planetary icons giving flashbacks to the Harry Smith shorts. Faster cut than Klahr and with added digital glitch edits (or else my copy was defective).