I guess one would have to call this a post-postmodern film, in that it is a post-modern film about the making of post-modern films. Frankly, that's about as much "meta" as I can handle.

A group of indie actors, realizing that they are not going to be working steadily, are inspired to make their own film by a fellow performer who did just that to get himself a starring role. What does it take? If the film requires no lighting or special effects, and assuming they write the script and play all the parts themselves, they can do it for a few hundred dollars with a home-quality digital video camera and an idea. The latter is the real problem. Even the most sincere indie effort requires some kind of idea. How to come up with one?

"Hey, I know. Let's lock ourselves in a cabin in the woods for an entire weekend and concentrate on nothing else but creating our film."

They give that a try but, human nature being what it is, other things get in the way. Alcohol, for example. And love. The group consists of two single young men and two single young women and the predictable romantic interactions between them, which are more complicated than they need to be because one of the women is pursuing one of the guys, while the other guy pursues her. Chemistry rules the evening and no movie starts to emerge.

While they are out there the first night, one of the women sees something in the woods which seems to be a man with a grocery bag over his head. It is apparently not The Unknown Comic. She then dreams of the Baghead. Over breakfast she tells the others of her experiences. Are they frightened? Not at all. The leader of the group snaps his fingers and says, "That's our Hitler!" Metaphorically. The Baghead is just the movie idea they need.

Now the movie, indeed both movies, begin in earnest: the one they are in, and the one they are writing. They are four people in the words being scared by a guy with a bag over his head while they write a movie about four people in the woods being scared by a bag over his head. And they are in a movie. The one you are watching.

Why don't they have the good sense to go home and finish their movie script in safety? And just who is the Baghead? I guess those mysteries are the reasons why you should be intrigued by the movie. The only way I'll spoil it is by noting that it is ultimately not a horror film, although it shares some of that genre's characteristics. It is a film about the process of making films.

That all sounds kinda cheesy on paper, but this mumblecore film actually has some good ideas, and the resolution actually provides a sensible explanation. Unfortunately, the basic ideas are ruined by two elements: poor acting and improvised dialogue. Let's face it, when people get a camera stuck in their faces and are told to start improvising, they do not come up with witty and interesting things to say unless they happen to be Robin Williams or Larry David or John C Reilly. Even great writers like David don't come up with brilliant dialogue in this way. They write and polish and test out the material on friends and co-authors. Then they throw out the stuff that fails. Most of our daily conversations, even those of writers, are mundane or derivative, and therein lies the essential problem with all mumblecore movies. Even when the films start with a good idea, that spark is snuffed by 90 minutes of boring dialogue which lacks not only the polish a writer would add, but also the very presence of a writer.

Here's a tip for you youngsters: actors and writers are two different kinds of people. You would not hire plumbers to do your algebra homework, so why would you ask actors to write your movie? Doing so might make the experience seem real, but you can get that same real experience by listening to your parents babble over breakfast. If you think other people would be interested in those same parental conversations that bore you, then you definitely have a future as a mumblecore filmmaker. But if you still feel the need to eat and pay the rent, you may want to keep your bartending job at Applebee's.

Greta Gerwig seems to be the Kim Basinger of mumblecore. This is the second time she has exposed her handsome chesticles in one of these no-budget creations. (The other: Hannah Takes the Stairs.) Samples follow:

Cass Naumann is an Austin-based singer, but she whipped out her boobs in a film-within-the-film called We Are Naked. This is the film that inspired our central characters to make their own.




Frankie and Alice


I don't know jack-shit about this movie, except for two key facts:

1. Halle Berry is in it

2. While filming it, she was captured topless by some naughty fellows with telephoto lenses. Oh, shame on those cads!


  • * Yellow asterisk: funny (maybe).

  • * White asterisk: expanded format.

  • * Blue asterisk: not mine.

  • No asterisk: it probably sucks.


Catch the deluxe version of Other Crap in real time, with all the bells and whistles, here.









Blade Runner


Ultra HD Film clip of Joanna Cassidy

Sample below.






Notes and collages



Part 1 of ??

Kate Fischer and Elle MacPherson

The Citizen Kane of celebrity nudity. And a pleasant film to watch, despite the smarmy presence of Hugh Grant.






This section will present Defoe's film clips to accompany Charlie's collages, which are found on his own site.

Today's entry is the final installment of this week's vids:

Delphine Rollin in Monsieur Molina

Marina Vlady in La Chambre des Dames

Muriel Solvay in Electromenager







Aria and Friends

What better place to start in Aria and Friends but with Aria Giovanni herself. Sample below.










Sarah Marshall falling from her top

Some assorted women in uncensored footage from Blind Date


Film Clips

Exposure from some runway models (film clips to the left, samples to the right)

Ana Hickmann
Caroline Trentini
Karolina Kurkova
The women of Tomboy, a memorably typical 80's skin-fest. Damn, I miss the eighties.

The women of Morphine, a brand spankin' new Russian film

Romy Schneider in Boaccaccio '70. I will never forget this scene. While not very explicit, it is the precise scene in which I first saw a woman naked on film! I was about 13 and snuck into the theater. Well, actually the theater part was easy. To tell the truth, there was no sneaking. My friend the Duck and I just bought a ticket and walked in. The sneaky part was getting my mother to drive us there. We had her drop us off and pick us up at another theater about a quarter of a mile away, and we ran between them in the frigid Rochester weather. Luckily mom never asked us any detailed questions about whatever Disney crap we were supposed to have seen.

Alicia Principe and Mari Carmen Nieto in The Sexual Story of O