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Showing posts with label film muse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label film muse. Show all posts

23.8.14

Hazy

Summer in the city is winding down, yet somehow I just started to notice the sound of crickets outside my window. Like clockwork, they faithfully come out to help lull the world into sleep as the sun sets, eventually stopping around 3 am signaling the time for universal rest. But instead of complete silence the crickets are replaced by distant revving motorcycles from the highway not too far away. Every now and then bass music will bleed through the window of a car passing, or a teen will whizz by on their bike.  Life electrically goes on until the sun rises, at least it seems that way right now.

Like most, I'm grasping for what's left. What I didn't do with all my spare time. Like driving down with my windows open, listening to my favorite movie soundtracks. Or walking the dog past that one garage with the R.V. parked out in front, shielding the man drinking beer and watching television inside. Even the humid and foggy air is energized, particles flurrying into each other under parking lot street lights. Everything is still so alive. 

(personal film stills)

With the announcement of my end to making Youtube videos for the foreseeable future (see post here), I've been cultivating my former interests once again. That includes editing old footage (see above), using my library card (Just Kids by Patti Smith, From Reverence to Rape by Molly Haskell), and I even broke out my mom's old records, collaging to Elvis' live Memphis sessions.
Watching Twin Peaks again (in proper moderation) was probably the best decision I've made since my last blog post. The over saturated colors, filmic grain, and the peculiar performances of all of the actors is wondrous. Watching Twin Peaks feels so rewarding. If you can make it through the pilot you feel like you've reached a new level of zen. I recommend one episode before you go to bed each night to foster a healthy imagination. 


It just feels so nice to do things for yourself. To not feel like you have to share what you're doing. No pressure, no prying eyes, just learning time. I've been thinking about my beliefs, my experiences, and my future in such new ways. And for once none of them require the approval of others.

A friend and I did some long exposure night shots recently and I discovered a new appreciation for photographers (cinematographers as well). The craft is intense. Even if you have good taste, capturing  an intriguing image isn't always easy. It takes experience to know certain angles and techniques off the top of your head. I think about cinematographers, how they'll map out a whole scene, omitting hundreds of options and sifting for the most interesting shots. There are so many perspectives to choose from, and what you choose defines the overall tone and accessibility of the film. You can certainly ruin it, that's for sure. That is why I feel so appreciative of Twin Peaks - because not only is the set design/shot list greatly meticulous, but everyone involved plays an integral part in creating the fantasy world that centers around Laura Palmer. 


 This aesthetically driven world could easily be corrupted. The wrong hair style, the wrong paint color, a line performed unconvincingly. Just watch the pilot, you'll see what I mean. Yet somehow David Lynch seams everything together without noticeable flaws. And usually that would be intimating to most artists, that level of perfection, but for right now it is just plain inspiring. 


Sometimes we jump into things that we connect with because we feel it in our bones. We sit down, open up a blank page, grab our favorite pen - and nothing comes out. Then we sit there wondering if we had anything in us at all to begin with. When really... we just don't know the steps of breaking through. And sometimes, we arrogantly brush off what we should learn in order to do so, which ultimately leads to stagnant progress. 

Although you might not be 'On' 100% of the time, I've learned it's important to roll with good vibes when you have them. Learn the steps that will bring clarity into making what you want to make, saying what you want to say. And if you need to bask in the haziness of inspiration and uncertainty, by all means do it - and enjoy it. 


Part of me wishes I could go back to that blog post (A Four Part Goodbye) and rewrite it. Perhaps I'd make it more eloquent, less frank. But I don't regret writing it at all, and I want to say thank you to those who supported my decision on my various social media sites. Also, I wanted to say thank you to those who said they'd still support my other endeavors, which is really saying something since I don't know if I have anything to give right now.

I can see myself posting on this blog like I have been, perhaps including more of my own art as well (a podcast has also been thrown into the idea mix). But all I really know right now is that I'm going to invest in myself again.

Cheers to good vibes and a new school year. 

Lauren Rose
Curbside Fashion


Hazy Tunes
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29.7.14

Film Muse: Viva Las Vegas

Recently, I was riding the bus home when a friend of mine happened to hop on at the downtown stop. We chatted about what most friends talk about: work, roommates, future plans, and current romantic timelines. I learned that her and her boyfriend had traveled down to the west coast and ended up staying in Las Vegas, Nevada for a night. However the details of Las Vegas were depressing - terrible casino culture, hot weather, and a sugar daddy sighting that looked more like a grandfather walking arm in arm with his granddaughter.

As she got off at her stop, I thought about a movie I'd seen recently: Viva Las Vegas (1964) directed by George Sidney.  Starring in the film was none other than the king himself, Elvis Presley, as well as another hot celebrity of the era, Ann-Margret. The film was electrifying and painted Las Vegas as the time capsuled city we all imagine: dazzling gold lights, hot neon cowboy signs, with every street corner draped in homage to Americana's sultry allure.  Yet what's even more exhilarating is Elvis and Ann-Margret's obvious on set chemistry.


This musical/romance/comedy is absolutely salacious in the best way possible. Lucky Jackson (Elvis) is a traveling dare devil, looking to win the Grand Prix Race with the help of a new engine for his car. He soon runs out of money and attempts to find a way to pay for his hotel bill, as well as that special engine. While staying at his hotel he meets Rusty (Ann-Margret), the swimming pool instructor. The two begin to play tug-of-war with each other's affections, Lucky determined to win Rusty's love.


One of the first characteristics of this film that I fell in love with was the color palette.  It's the epitome of '60s pop art design. Clementine corals, baby blues, red hot turtlenecks - this film does it so well. A nice color palette is something that we don't see too often in modern day cinema, in my opinion. I think some directors forget how important it is to have an organized color scheme, for it is vital to establish a visual tone. After all, we are all voyeurs in cinema in some way or another- we crave beautiful and interesting things to look at. 


Then there is the pop culture history of the two stars. Whether you like them or not, Elvis and Ann-Margret were forces to be reckoned with. Elvis at the time was tired of doing B-movies to keep his career afloat during the rising Beatlemania era, where Ann-Margret was the new hot actress in the Hollywood scene. Priscilla, Elvis' homegrown wife to be, was in hysterics when she read that the two were having a fling on set. It was known that Ann-Margret was the female version of Elvis' better self: fiery, full of passion and talent. The way the two looked at each other during the film was clearly more than just acting. Although the soundtrack flubbed in sales, the movie itself stayed afloat due to their undeniable infatuation for each other. 


It was also rumored that the director of Viva Las Vegas was just as infatuated with Ann-Margret as Elvis was, and maybe even more. Tension grew between managers as Sidney gave Ann-Margret more dance numbers with countless takes and increasing air time. Many noted that Ann-Margret nearly stole the show, which was unheard of when you put a major player like Elvis in a feature film.  Even I can't argue with her allure. Sometimes I find myself fantasizing over her beautiful shade of strawberry blonde hair......... I digress. 


Much to my own dismay, I won't lie to you when I say the film gets a little stiff 3/4ths of the way through. Some iffy sexism (among other issues) leaks through the mirage of the glamorous Las Vegas scenery. I find that happens with most older films that I watch. Yet I still find that I can view this film with the same amount of awe that captured me originally. I can still feel the romance between the two, even though the bigger picture is a bit more sour. Elvis' career (which skyrocketed from his appropriation of many lesser know black artists) went downhill a few years later, despite a spike in his comeback performance ('68 Comeback Special). By the early '70s, his marriage to Priscilla crumbled and his prescription drug abuse ended his life on August 16th, 1977. Ann-Margret is still alive to this day, married to Roger Smith. 


Viva Las Vegas will always be one of those movies I'll look back onto fondly. The chemistry, the colors, the unapologetic lush consumerism of the '60s makes me giddy in the most unexpected ways. Watching the film will transport you into a hazy hue of a warm and tender idyllic love stupor, if you let do so.

-Lauren Rose
Curbside Fashion

P.S. Here are some loved songs from the film, or that reminded me of the film. 




 P.P.S. Rose McGowan and Jonathan Rhys Meyers depicted the iconic duo in Elvis: The Miniseries (2005) and Rose looked absolutely STUNNING. 


14.7.14

Film Muse: IRL (2013)

Hey Film Muse-ers, 

Recently I've been thinking a lot about this blog: what it has become and what it will be. To be honest, I never intended Curbside Fashion to be a blog of almost solely film reviews - yet here we are. I started to question why I liked doing these posts and I realized that it's because I really enjoy other people's visions and success. When the music lines up perfectly and the shot is awe-inspiring I can't help but document it and share it with others. Ever since I was a kid I was mesmerized of how film can generate undeniable empathy within its viewers. All it takes is one good film to see the world differently.

I've learned from my experience as a Fashion Blogger that the field is very individualistic. Your dress size, hair color, and trendy accessories are all compared to the mass consumer market and sometimes the beauty of fashion gets lost. It is hard to explain. Yet I truly believe that watching films can inspire many facets of your life, including fashion. Even flawed films are worth seeing and talking about if they inspire you in other ways, and I believe it is important to support those who put their ideas into the world and don't get enough credit for doing so.

 Today I'm bringing you a short film from Grant Singer called IRL (2013).

   
IRL is a twenty minute long short film starring Sky Ferreira as Angel, a girl who is trying to remember her previous trip-induced NYC night out with a mysterious woman. As Angel tries to piece together the evening, she learns of a murder that took place on the "L" train tracks that she may or may not have been linked to. IRL's characters are hyper stylized, reminiscent of Gregg Araki's '90s teenage crews (Totally Fucked Up, The Doom Generation, Nowhere) - this group peppered with 2013 texting lingo. The underground club scenes are breathtaking, as they would be - given that Grant Singer has done so many great music videos in the past (Night Time My Time, You're Not The One). What I particularly enjoyed about Singer's direction is his curated aesthetic to create a mystery urban world of sterile apartments and neon smoke infused raves. It is clear that Singer's strong suit lies within musical montages that evoke unspoken emotions.


Originally written by Patrick Sandberg, I was very intrigued of the IRL script. As previously mentioned, the artistic head nod to Gregg Araki was crystal clear in terms of the character's dialogue. Araki's characters often spit some kind of razor sharp banter among each other. Araki's films have been ripped apart by critics, mainly for this reason. It isn't always easy to like such blunt (and sometimes vapid) characters. IRL dangerously goes further. Angel's friends obsessively snark at their iPhone screens, creating an insipid cloud of meaningless modern friendships. Although it was clear that Sandberg wanted to show the emptiness of these characters, something did not sit right with me.  In fact, I cringed a bit while watching these scenes. Not only is it hard to digest representations of internet subcultures on screen, but I'd imagine that it's even harder to act out the dialogue in a likeable way itself. Some non-actors fumbled with this delivery, yet where IRL lacked in acting it made up for itself in visuals. Watching IRL is a good study in understanding the importance of acting, especially in stylistic settings.


The reason I'm probably the most partial to IRL is because of the cinematographer Jason McCormick's work. The compositions of nearly every shot are so beautiful. The day scenes are washed out in the best way possible, while the night scenes seem to be pulsing with glowing energy. In particular, the warped shots of Angel in the convenience store are some of the most visually interesting frames I've seen recently. 


Sky's performance is one of the best. Her expressions are hauntingly meant for this film, and her voice carries the story along. These past few years I've kept a tab on Ferreira, especially when she collaborated with Gaspar Noé (Enter The Void) for her Night Time, My Time album cover. Sky has some great tastes, not only in pop culture - but in collaborators as well. She is one of those artists to keep an eye on. 


The stand out characters of IRL were actually Damien Echols and Genesis P-Orridge. They both looked like they stepped out of a Harmony Korine/Gregg Araki movie. It is so clear that they had the vibe that Singer was going for, and they delivered their lines perfectly. They were intensely eerie and somewhat comical - heightening the potency of the film's suspense. 


For music fans out there, Salem's John Holland and Gatekeeper's Aaron David Ross among others contributed to IRL as well. Their grainy slow pitched sounds permeate the plot line, so make sure you have a good speaker system or pop in those headphones when you watch the film. 


Overall, IRL is one of those films that you should study. While some of the acting is crude, by no means should the film be dismissed. You can learn from films' mistakes while still appreciating the effort, and that is why I make Film Muse posts. I respect this film enough to share it with you all because I see the potential and the seams of the idea. If you are an artist, you should be familiar with these refinement gaps already, and I believe it's important to support those who are still mastering the craft. Regardless, IRL was an enjoyable short film and I will be keeping tabs on all of the film's collaborators. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do.

-Lauren Rose
Curbside Fashion

16.6.14

Film Muse: Palo Alto

I've sat here with the same blinking cursor for a couple days now. Film Muse posts usually just spill out of me, but this one is different. How could I ever begin to write a cohesive intro doing justice to one of the most important teenage films known to date? Every line I write sounds cheesy and sensational - as genuine as I am. 

Palo Alto: the ultimate mood piece of 21st century adolescents. 

  I walked into the Uptown Theatre alone the day Palo Alto premiered.  As I sat in the awkwardly brand new (and squeaky) leather seats, I looked around me: a couple old dudes (hungry for a Coppola film? Tantalized by Franco's perverted storyline? I'll never know) and a teenage girl with her mother peppered the seats. As I sat there waiting for it to begin, I thought about all the expectations I had for the film. 

I remembered first hearing buzz about Gia Coppola last year, who was set to debut her first feature film at the Venice Film Festival in September of 2013. I had read Franco's short stories before - often crude and cumbersome with weird teenage slang, yet surprisingly housed deeply emotional characters. When I heard that Gia was adapting his work I was so hopeful. I feel like I can speak for so many of my fellow film addicts when I say that I couldn't wait for another Coppola film. The Bling Ring left a gaping whole in my heart when it came out. I was hoping for a delicate Virgin Suicides take on pop culture and got Paris Hilton pillows. I know it wasn't fair of me to project my yearning for hazy and innocent adolescent stories onto Sofia's new work, but it hit me hard when I walked out of the theatre. 

Where was the film that said something for the rest of us? That explained the indescribable growing pains that high schoolers endure? The Trip Fontaines, the neighborhood boys, and the prom fruit punch? 

All I can say is that Palo Alto was worth the wait. 


Cue the opening scene: 

A slow crop zoom centers in on a glowing beat up car. Two teens Teddy and Fred sit inside, taking hits and sipping on paper bag booze. As they talk, one of Fred's signature scenarios comes up.  

Fred: "If you were in the olden times...who'd you be?"
Teddy: "I'd be the king." 
Fred: "No, you can't be the king, dog, no way! 'Cause I'm the king around these parts!"

Fred thrusts his foot forward on the gas pedal, slamming the car into a cement wall. As Fred psychotically screams from his power trip, pounding the steering wheel - Teddy stares forward, stunned, checking for blood on his brow. That is the beginning of Palo Alto. 


The hazy world of the California suburbs sinks in immediately, thanks to Autumn Durald's cinematography. Stephen Shore's bland run down settings paint the scene while Patrick Joust's long exposure glowing lights illuminate the night. Teddy seems shy and unstated, peach fuzz lines his face. Fred on the other hand is so severe, you want to either love him or hate him. He has the arrogance of a chauvinistic asshole but somehow manages to charm the viewer with his impromptu piano solos and hilarious one liners ("fuckin' baaaaaked-"). The two act like yin yang twins, one dark the other light. Fred seems to envy Teddy a bit because he doesn't try that hard for others to like him. The teens wander around aimlessly, party hopping, waiting for something. 


April (Emma Roberts) wears a shapeless yellow sweater during soccer practice and takes a cigarette break - pretending like she's a brooding 1920s film star. Her room (Gia Coppola's preserved teenage room) is decorated with a mix of childhood items and older interests. I immediately spotted a Strokes album insert spread out and tacked on the wall. A Virgin Suicides poster is tacked up as well, conspicuously blended in for only true Coppola fans to discover (I see you, girl). Playful stickers decorate April's laptop, plain sheets line the bed. I liked the appreciation to detail in the bedroom scenes (Emily/Teddy) because they are so clearly reflective of their identities, like most teenage bedrooms. 

Then there are the parents. The parents of this film are hauntingly detached from their children. April's stepdad (Val Kilmer) lights up a cashed bowl while playing Grand Theft Auto, her mom (Gia Coppola's real mother, Jacqui Getty) puffs on a trendy E-Cig (never forget the year of the E-Cig) while on the phone with her friends. April often sees them at a distance through hallway doors, rarely interacting. But the portrayal of the parents doesn't seem to be so much of a commentary on negative parenting. I can just see the headline now --> PALTO ALTO: WHY PARENTS SHOULD WATCH THEIR TEENS MORE! We uncommonly see April's parents from her perspective: as actual human beings. I know what that feels like. It's sort of a melancholy time in life when you realize that your parents have lives and personal problems of their own. You sort of grow out of those protector/protectee roles that were instilled in you when you were a kid. It's also a bit sad when you come to that realization when they still don't think you have. Wise beyond their supposed years - the teens in Palo Alto seek intimacy elsewhere. 


Teddy and April's encounters hit me so hard, I don't really know why. Was it their genuine acting? The way the camera lingers on their yearning faces?  The viewer right away learns of Teddy's infatuation with April, much to Fred's annoyance. He looks at her longingly as she gets pulled away by her friends at a house party. It reminded me a bit of those voyeuristic boys in The Virgin Suicides - but much sweeter. As Teddy walks through the crowded house, he maintains his cool. Friends pat him on the back through the hallways, taking gulps from their parent's liquor bottles. Kids sit down and start playing "Never Have I Ever", singling out the more adventurous girls. The party scene is all too familiar, yet not too glamorized. We all know the underlying feeling at these kind of events: when you're at a party with your friends but you really only want to be with that one special person. The whole night feels like a delicate yet volatile game of booze, bud, and bad decisions. 


As Teddy projectile vomits onto a fence, the "class floozy" Emily (Zoe Levin) steps in and offers to lead him upstairs to get mouthwash. Meanwhile, April sits in the living room soberly holding a decorative red cup. A boy tries to coax her into conversation, but it's clear that someone else is on her mind. Then we see Emily hand in hand with Teddy going upstairs and our stomachs turn into knots while watching April's pained yet subtle reaction. It's like getting the wind knocked out of you. This scene is so important because it perfectly explains how even the smallest actions can seem monumental - especially at that time in life. We watch April take the hit and try to recover by taking shots and later making out with the former couch boy. 


As we cut to Emily going down on Teddy it's odd because the viewer doesn't really hate her for it. From previous scenes, she seems nice and maybe even picked on a little.  She seems fully aware of her behavior, but also a little sad as the camera closes in on her dulled eyes. For a second it seems as if she is taking advantage of Teddy, although it is unclear. Later, we cut to Emily taking a swig of mouthwash in the parents' bathroom and Teddy leaving in the background reflection, saying nothing. She looks tired, sober. As she stares at herself in the mirror, we realize how complex all of these characters are. It's the least selfish approach to telling a story, and it's wonderful.


 Then there is Mr. B (James Franco). It is clear from the beginning that he is stunted in some way. As he coaches the girls soccer team, he stops April after to complain about how he has to go on a date, asking her to babysit his kid. He is perfectly handsome, but something isn't right. 

Mr. B is such an interesting character study. He comes across a bit predatory, and also a bit pathetic. He tells stupid jokes that even April doesn't seem to think are too funny, yet she is so flattered by his attention that she doesn't know what to do. I guess that is the creepiest part of all: April seems more mature than Mr. B, but he knows how to manipulate her more and that is where he leads. 

As Mr. B offers to help April with her homework, she plays on her phone like a regular 16 year old girl. Out of nowhere he kisses her passionately, she shyly gives him a peck back. As their hidden relationship progresses, things get a bit stranger between the two. April tries to deal with Mr. B's aloofness during practice, tying other girls' shoes, giving pinnies to other players. The smallest actions eat April up, naturally. As she starts to process the whole ordeal and back out, Mr. B becomes eerily short with her. 


During the soccer game, the camera zooms in and out as April misses the goal. The driving score ("Big Game") by Devonté Hynes pumps life into the scene and then fades out into a gloomy synth as the team begins to lose. Sparkling gold glitter gleams upon April's sweat ridden cheeks as she desperately looks at Mr. B, he looks away- disappointed. After the game, he consoles one of her pretty teammates, triggering April to do something drastic to get his attention back. She angrily accepts an offer back to his place after the game. His son is at his mother's house. She knows what will happen, but she goes anyways.

As April loses her virginity, Mr. B's shadow ominously covers her face.


I can't tell you how much I loved the way Gia and Amy portrayed Mr. B and April's relationship. I mean, it's clear that Gia didn't want to project digestible judgment onto these characters, but I can't help but see clues in Franco's acting. It's like solving a puzzle. Mr. B is obviously emotionally stunted and can't relate to women his own age, but he also is mildly controlling. BUT the beauty of it is that we can't see what his character does or thinks about in his spare time, because we mainly focus on April's perspective. I mean - this could have been a completely different movie about a perverted soccer coach, but it wasn't. How many times have we ourselves brushed upon turbulent situations like this? And how bizarre is it when it all comes crashing down? As if we were blind in the beginning?

I know so many people salivate when given the opportunity to call James Franco out on multiple things  and hey- that's valid. But when I read what he said about who his character was based on things became a little more interesting:

"My character Mr. B was inspired by a real guy who had been my teacher. A decade after we graduated, the girl who April is based on, had never told anybody that she'd had a relationship with him, went back and had him arrested. He went to prison."


When Mr. B's kid and April play a video game, she chooses the female character. "She sucks" he says. "Trust me, I've played her". As she announces that she doesn't care as the two buff and sexualized animations begin to fight to the death. The female character is smacked to the ground, blood splattering everywhere. April doesn't know what to press - and the little kid wont tell her. He wins.
 "Two cookies, please!", he says. 

It is then revealed how a different babysitter rewards him for winning the game, exposing Mr. B's infidelities with one of April's teammates. I thought this scene was amazingly brilliant. April storms into the kitchen and throws the bag of cookies at the kid. This whole time she was getting played - just like that video game character. She never had a chance. At first she seems riled up, confronting Mr. B. He lamely makes an attempt to keep up their relationship, telling her that he loves her. She gets out of the situation, but not without emotional scars.


As April defeatedly slumps down in the bathroom stall, off somewhere else is Teddy completing his community service for a DUI. The two seem like star crossed lovers that were destined to be together, but had to endure terrible situations before they could experience their own love. 

It's sad, because it's so true. Missed connections in adolescents. When you care about someone so much but you don't know how to tell them. When you are ignored and destructively act out to spite others. When every little problem seems like the end of the world. I'm not saying you lose that when you grow up - but I think it becomes masked. We assume that that is just how life is, and the innocence of experiencing love and rejection gets numbed over. These characters are not without faults, they are raw. 


Emily and Fred's relationship is almost even darker. One of Franco's short stories about the gangbang of a high school girl is included into their story line. Emily becomes infatuated with Fred, falling for his boyish behavior even when he hurts her. The two walk out into the garden, a montage of Fred's perspective of Emily: fun, flirty, beautiful, broken. Fred voice over explains how he got her drunk and shared her with his friends as Emily looks into the camera with dead eyes. Fred's voice is monotone, apathetic. 


Themes of sexuality and power dynamics shine strongly. Teddy shares a blunt with Fred's father, and proceeds to be hit on by him. Although this was an improvisation done by Chris Messina, it eerily fits the predatory tone of this film. Not so much that adults can't be trusted and are irresponsible, but that they are complex individuals as well - breaking the mold of traditional younger/older relationships. 

As Fred progressively becomes more possessive over Emily, drunkenly dragging her into a pool, she finally stands up for herself. It was a great and freeing moment. She smacks the whisky bottle across Fred's head - stunned at herself. He looks up at her like a whimpering dog, and then runs away. Later, we see Emily sitting on the edge of the pool smoking a cigarette, laughing. 


As Teddy and April finally come together towards the end of the film, everything seems to fall into place. As she watches him skateboard in a parking lot, he stares back fervently. Music swells. Then Fred whizzes back into the frame in his car out of nowhere, desperate for weed and looking to pick up. The two lovestruck teens separate, satisfied for once it seems. Happy.


Fred goes into this eery trance, nonsensically talking about sexual power dynamics. We see the most immature character of the film talk about the most challenging topics that even most adults won't face: who takes and who gives? Who truly holds the cards? Fred's thought process finally comes full circle. Irritating and charming, Fred's entire existence was about proving himself and his masculinity, until it all falls apart at the end. His beliefs are challenged by the one person he cares the most about, and it stings. 

Is Fred questioning the way we are taught to perceive sexuality? Does Fred act out so harshly because he is confronted with the possibility of him being homosexual? Or (okay - this might be a stretch), could Fred have experienced some type of trauma regarding his sexuality in the past? His father? I mean - I haven't seen a character zone out like that since Gregg Araki's Mysterious Skin when Brady Corbet's character goes into a fabricated trance to mask childhood sexual abuse he endured. 


As Teddy dreamily walks through the park lights, texting April, Fred drives down the tunnel of hell. He floors the gas pedal repeating "I'm not Bob". It is so haunting. As soon as Teddy gets dealt a good hand of cards, Fred's ultimate demise catches up with him. I can't explain how eery the ending was. On one hand you feel giddy as April sits on her stoop, smoking her last lucky cigarette, all the while Fred is heading somewhere catastrophic. Everyone's feelings are so extremely personified it's hard to take it all in. Much like adolescence, I suppose. 

Everyone did such a spectacular job at acting. I don't know exactly what it was, but I have such a whole new respect for filmmaking after watching Palo Alto. Maybe it was the fact that I had been following this project for a while and was happy to see that it exceeded. Either way, I found hope for the sharing of these kind of stories in this industry. Palo Alto was incredibly fresh. Emma Roberts, Zoe Levin, Nat Wolff, and Jack Kilmer are all on my radar. Especially Nat Wolff (yeah, that little fucker from The Naked Brothers Band, what- you thought I forgot about "Crazy Car"?). I think they all brought such insight to characters that easily could have been type casted by quirky 25 year old actors. Perhaps it was Jack's lack of acting that gave the film an overall tone of sincerity. He seemed so beautifully careful and a bit insecure with some of his lines, which just contributed to his character even further. And Franco, fuckin Franco. Give him all the shit you want, but I've been hooked on his stuff since Spring Breakers


And then there is Gia Coppola and Autumn Durald. They seem like such a great pair who are constantly learning and emerging from their work. I know I referenced Sofia Coppola's own work a lot in this post, and I hope that doesn't seem like I automatically glorify Gia for her relation. Let me clarify that Palo Alto would still stand alone. Gia did a great job of studying her mentors and past films (Dazed and Confused?) to create a beautiful rendition of teenage growing pains. It makes me really excited for the film industry, for women in the industry. Autumn made me want to look more into photography, to start considering the cinematographer as a bigger contributor than they are often represented. 

Overall, Palo Alto has easily become one of my top favorite films. Sure, there are hiccups and continuity errors like any other film, but I don't think that should lessen it in any way. Palo Alto speaks to so many different levels of me personally, and to see that on the big screen at this time in my life makes me have hope for things in the future. 

So cheers to the Palo Alto cast and crew, keep on keepin' on.

-Lauren Rose
Curbside Fashion

(P.S. s/o to Dev Hynes & Robert Schwartzman for an awesome soundtrack/score)

(P.P.S. I made a playlist for yall)

TEENAGE BLUES TUNES
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Love Is a Battlefield (cover) - Halloween, Alaska (spotify y'all)