Have I mentioned? Like many of you, I write stuff down that I hear. I’ve been doing it for so long. I recently stumbled across a slip of (surprisingly vivid) yellow paper—a penciled scribble from 1988, when I worked at Alaskan Copper & Brass Co. and one co-worker said something to another co-worker regarding the difference between guilt and shame. Not only did the little quote retain its zing but the paper itself, with its hurried handwriting hidden under a single fold, suddenly conjured my father’s green three-speed bike, which I rode to work—rode all over town (before inexplicably leaving it unlocked in an alley where it was, um, stolen, if you can call it that). Riding around an uncomplicated city wearing vintage dresses, carrying my notebooks and scraps of paper and notions on art-making, doing my thing… Sigh. I add the yellow slip of paper to my ongoing accumulation of Proustian moments—and to the verbal memorabilia of my existence.
It’s not just stuff I’ve overheard. Back when I would subscribe to newspapers and magazines I would clip things out—like the Robert Rauschenberg quote I can’t find now, from an early-aughts New York Times article, about change and how people can be “measured by their ability to adapt to it” or something like that. The exact wording is lost unless/until I someday put my hands on the little scrap again—but the truth of it rings, doesn’t it?
Of course, the tools have changed (does anyone else store excerpted text from an actual book in their photos app?) but the impulse endures. In fact sometimes it feels like my whole life is guided by this pile of physical and digital ephemera—the random-yet-not collection of stuff other people have said or written that somehow adds up in the most resonant, mysterious, poetic ways.
Before I share this brief compendium though I want to point you in the direction of another, more disciplined exercise in chance-based excavation, undertaken by my dear friend Kevin Patnik on his new Substack, By the Letter. Inspired by Michael Bierut’s 100 Days Project, Kevin is doing a random daily drawing from the hundreds of cards and letters he’s saved over the decades, and writing a response to each piece he draws every day for the first 100 days of 2025. A stunning undertaking—and a lovely opportunity to enjoy Kevin’s insightful, delightful prose. I’ve subscribed, you should too!
Okay. I was going to omit the quotes that don’t have anything to do with filmmaking—they seemed like outliers—but they’re too good. Quickly, then: This one was uttered by my friend Peggy Piacenza, a brilliant dance artist in possession of an indelible, riddling way with words:
“‘Back in the day’ hasn’t existed in a long time.”
No context necessary, right? And the other non-film-related one was was the go-to metaphor my former neighbor, Fritz, used to use to describe his cognitive decline:
“My mind is like driving a car and the spark plugs don’t know when to go off. It’s a jerky ride. Miserable but alive. I have no choice, I’m too much of a coward to commit suicide. I wish I was that dog.”
My dog Jonny, that is. I loved Fritz and I miss the conversations we used to have. He was also the handsomest man in the neighborhood, as I’ve already declared in this post last spring.
From these mini-ruminations on temporality and time-based degradation of the body we move into bits and pieces that have impressed themselves upon me in recent cinema-focused reading, listening and watching…
“Sean's world is like a mixture of objective with subjective, you know, but choosing to shoot anamorphic and choosing to shoot with that depth of field and those old, beautiful Lomo lenses—it gives it this velvet, beautiful quality, like a fine bottle of wine or something, you know, it's just like this elegance, you know? It's elegant. So you're shooting this story that's a little down, but you're shooting in an elegant, elevated format and look and feel, you know.”
This is Drew Daniels, Director of Photography of ANORA by Sean Baker, on The Cinematography Podcast, rhapsodizing on the visual approach to the film’s title character, who happens to be a sex worker. I’ve listened and re-listened to this section of the episode, where Daniels delves into how the film’s visual language speaks to its subject—just such a rich and engaging conversation, illuminating both the ethos of filmmaking and the culture that kind of governs and informs each process. Among the many things I love about ANORA is how it handles the wealth gap inherent in its story, avoiding the cliché of shooting poverty, well, poorly. BTW, this film is to watch whether you’re already a Baker fan or not. So, so good.
“The line between her inner life and the lens is held so taut.”
Oh, what a line. This is Lila Neugebauer, director of CAUSEWAY, talking about Jennifer Lawrence in an article in The New York Times. Full disclosure, I haven’t seen the film, but I like J-Law and I think a lot about the camera-character relationship. Does a close up take us inside a character’s experience or does it point out all the things we can never know about them? Why and how do some actors seem to have a more intimate or confidential relationship with the camera than others? And to what degree is cinema an analogue for life, where the people we approach closest are still, no matter what, forever separate from us?
“We’re so used to accepting male characters who are unlikable and flawed and we just watch them do their thing. But with female characters, we’re conditioned to analyse them and want them to be likable. I think it’s cool to normalize the female antihero because women do questionable things, and you still like them. To me, it’s not about likability, it’s about relatability, and if you create a fully fleshed out character, people will see something in it that they relate to.”
This is Aubrey Plaza as quoted in The Guardian. I dug this up during research for a job I nearly landed, directing a feature film about a “good” woman who goes “bad.” (I did a killer rewrite, then poof. Happens.) Isn't Aubrey Plaza the best? Thanks to minds like hers, cinema is getting better and better at morally ambiguous female characters, and the world is the better for it, IMO. Because it’s easy to empathize with nice people, kind people, good people. If we can do the same with complicated, confusing, effed up people, that’s when we can actually grow. (Also, if you read this and are at all inclined to prayer, please send her one today.)
“There are certain situations throughout life where women have to contort themselves and submit themselves, or become smaller than they actually are. I’m really interested in pushing the parameters of what I’ve always understood about being a woman. I want to unlearn things. It saddens me that we’re in a culture where it’s easier to look away from the things that we find hard about ourselves.”
A lot to unpack here, and I have a hunch there are at least five more provocative sentences between each of those four. This is the astonishing actress Jessie Buckley and unfortunately I have no clue where I read this but I couldn’t agree more. As a Gen X woman, I have resized and reshaped myself—still do—in ways I’m not even remotely conscious of. And I was raised by a second-wave feminist. Anyway, another young, smart, talented female in support of not looking away from hard realities—yesssss…
“Our bodies should evaporate when we die.”
This line from Louis Bunuel’s EXTERMINATING ANGEL, which my mother and son and I discussed in our film group last year, requires no further context.
Enjoy your Sunday.