Jon (Adam Trese) and Denise (Edie Falco) talk over tough times in Nick Gomez’s LAWS OF GRAVITY
LAWS OF GRAVITY (Nick Gomez, 1992)
MoMA Film
Museum of Modern Art
11 West 53rd St. between Fifth & Sixth Aves.
Sunday, April 7, 2:00
Series runs through April 15
Tickets: $12, in person only, may be applied to museum admission within thirty days, same-day screenings free with museum admission, available at Film and Media Desk
212-708-9400
www.moma.org
Nick Gomez wrote and directed this gritty urban drama about Jimmy (Peter Greene) and Jon (Adam Trese), a couple of guys on the mean streets of Brooklyn who get more than they bargained for when a friend stores some guns in Jimmy’s apartment and Jon thinks he’s ready for the big time. The film features Edie Falco in one of her earliest major performances, as Jimmy’s tough-talking girlfriend, Denise. Powerful acting, dead-on dialogue, and expert location shooting drive this film, which was made for a mere thirty-eight grand. Gomez (Drowning Mona) has gone on to direct multiple episodes of some of the best television shows of the last twenty years, including Homicide, Oz, The Shield, and Dexter, among others. Laws of Gravity is screening at MoMA on April 7 at 2:00 as part of “Carte Blanche: Scott Macaulay and 20 Years of Filmmaker Magazine,” which celebrates the continuing success of the IFP publication that focuses on independent film from the filmmakers’ point of view. Curated by the magazine’s editor in chief, Scott Macaulay, the series continues through April 15 with such other films as Debra Granik’s Winter’s Bone, Hal Hartley’s Amateur, Miguel Arteta’s Chuck and Buck, Barry Jenkins’s Medicine for Melancholy, and Todd Haynes’s Safe. In the Winter 1992/93 issue of Filmmaker, Peter Broderick went behind-the-scenes of Laws of Gravity, detailing the financing, casting process, rehearsals, and equipment and publishing the budget itself, which included $33 for prop blood, $48 for Polaroids, and $60 for phone calls. “The breathless, handheld 16mm camerawork by Jean de Segonzac, which always seems to be racing to catch up with the characters, made its mark on generations of subsequent filmmakers,” Macaulay writes on the MoMA website about the film.
No mere relic of the late 1960s counterculture movement, Easy Rider still holds up as one of the truly great road movies, inviting audiences to climb on board as two peace-loving souls search for freedom on the highways and byways of the good ol’ U.S. of A. Named after a pair of famous western gunslingers, Wyatt (producer and cowriter Peter Fonda), as in Earp, and Billy (director and cowriter Dennis Hopper), as in “the Kid,” make some fast cash by selling coke to a fancy connection (Phil Spector!), then take off on their souped-up bikes, determined to make it to New Orleans in time for Mardi Gras. Along the way, they break bread with a rancher (Warren Finnerty) and his family, hang out in a hippie commune, pick up small-town alcoholic lawyer George Hanson (an Oscar-nominated Jack Nicholson), don’t get served in a diner, and eventually hook up with friendly prostitutes Karen (Karen Black) and Mary (Toni Basil) in the Big Easy. “You know, this used to be a helluva good country. I can’t understand what’s gone wrong with it,” George says to Billy as they start discussing the concept and reality of freedom. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. That’s what it’s all about, all right. But talkin’ about it and bein’ it, that’s two different things. I mean, it’s real hard to be free when you are bought and sold in the marketplace. Of course, don’t ever tell anybody that they’re not free, ’cause then they’re gonna get real busy killin’ and maimin’ to prove to you that they are. Oh, yeah, they’re gonna talk to you, and talk to you, and talk to you about individual freedom. But they see a free individual, it’s gonna scare ’em.” The always calm Wyatt, who is also known as Captain America, and the nervous and jumpy Billy make one of cinema’s coolest duos ever as they personally experience the radical changes going on in the country, leading to a tragic conclusion. The Academy Award–nominated script, written with Terry Southern, remains fresh and relevant as it examines American capitalism and democracy in a way that is still debated today. And the soundtrack — well, it virtually defined the era, featuring such songs as Steppenwolf’s “The Pusher” and “Born to Be Wild,” Jimi Hendrix’s “If 6 Was 9,” the Electric Prunes’ “I Had Too Much to Dream (Last Night),” the Chambers Brothers’ “Time Has Come Today,” Thunderclap Newman’s “Something in the Air,” and Roger McGuinn’s “Ballad of Easy Rider.”
Winner of a Special Jury Prize at Sundance “for originality of vision,” performance artist Miranda July’s feature-film directorial debut is a success from start to finish, an original, engaging, and utterly charming romantic comedy that is as unique as it is familiar. July, who also wrote the screenplay, stars as a quirky young performance artist who is looking for a relationship in her rather mundane life. She immediately falls for a shoe salesman (John Hawkes) who is separating from his wife and trying to understand his kids (Brandon Ratcliff and Miles Thompson), who are having a strange online dalliance with a mystery e-mailer. Meanwhile, two high school girls (Najarra Townsend and Natasha Slayton) are sexually tormenting a bizarre loner (Brad Henke) who is sexually tormenting them right back, both humorously and dangerously. It’s nearly impossible to take your eyes off of July, whose innovative audio and visual installations and short films have been shown at the Andy Warhol Museum, the Whitney Biennial, the Kitchen, Lincoln Center, the Museum of Modern Art, Union Square Park, and the Rotterdam International Film Festival, among many other prestigious places. Me and You and Everyone We Know is screening at MoMA on April 5 & 10 as part of “Carte Blanche: Scott Macaulay and 20 Years of Filmmaker Magazine,” which celebrates the continuing success of the IFP publication that focuses on independent film from the filmmakers’ point of view. Curated by the magazine’s editor in chief, Scott Macaulay, the series runs April 4-15 and also includes such gems as Darren Aronofsky’s Pi, Nick Gomez’s Laws of Gravity, Errol Morris’s Fast, Cheap and Out of Control, Laura Poitras’s The Oath, and Todd Haynes’s Safe. “Me and You and Everyone We Know is a tremendously winning collection of interlocking stories dealing with love, longing, and the ways children and adults connect in our modern age, and it adeptly imports the concerns of July’s visual art to the world of feature films,” Macaulay writes on the MoMA website. “July was selected by Filmmaker as one its 25 New Faces of Independent Film in 2004, and the film was on the cover of the magazine’s Spring 2005 issue.”
Former engineer and first-time filmmaker Shane Carruth wrote, directed, edited, scored, and stars in Primer, an utterly confusing, confounding, and ultimately uninvolving tale of two engineers (Carruth and David Sullivan) who accidentally develop a machine that breaks through the time-space continuum and can create doubles of — well, it’s better not to get too specific, because we’re not really sure what it’s all about and what really happens. That can sometimes be a good thing, but not this time around, we’re afraid. Carruth, who made the film for a mere seven grand, is purposefully vague, but it’s to his own detriment, resulting in a story that plays more like an episode of a mediocre sci-fi series than the intriguing, unique, imaginative movie he wanted to make, even if it did win the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance. Carruth wouldn’t make another film for nine years, the romantic thriller Upstream Color, which he wrote, directed, produced, and stars in and opens in New York City on April 5. Primer kicks off the Museum of the Moving Image series “The Life of Film: Celebrating a Decade of Reverse Shot” on April 4, with Carruth on hand to talk about his work. The festival consists of four days of screenings, Q&As, and a panel discussion paying tribute to the tenth anniversary of the quarterly online film magazine founded by editors Michael Koresky and Jeff Reichert (who curated this series) and writers Erik Syngle and Neal Block. We might not have cared much for Primer, but Reverse Shot’s Matthew Plouffe had this to say about it in the autumn 2004 issue: “Irrespective of Shane Carruth’s heroic story or the film’s potential effect on American cinema, Primer ranks among the brightest beacons of uncompromised creative light to hit the silver screens of Utah in recent history. It’s hard to believe. The posh festival that has steadily spiraled into a mire of mediocrity over the last decade finally got it right. Shane Carruth deserves every accolade thrown his way, and if Primer signals what we’ve got to look forward to, his Sundance honors won’t be the last.”