Phi Phenomenon

After several delays, the newest James Bond film, No Time to Die, Daniel Craig’s final outing, was finally released. It’s gotten solid reviews, an emotional reaction (from, at least, us), and the most amount of references to what has become considered in the last few years the finest Bond outing: On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. On this episode, Bond fanatic Ted Haycraft joins to talk his favorite franchise and both of these outings from it. We discuss:

- when exactly did OHMSS go from punching bag to become cinephiles’s favorite Bond;
- George Lazenby’s hated and beloved legacy;
- and Steven Soderbergh’s essay on the film, declaring that the film “took all the ideas of the French [N]ew [W]ave and blended them with Eisenstein in a Cuisinart to create a grammar that still tops today’s how fast can you cut aesthetic.”

Also:

- the serialization nature of Craig’s Bond films;
- their relationship to the tight(er) continuity of Ian Fleming’s original novels;
- and if this, along with No Time to Die, are the most “emotional” entires in the series.

On Her Majesty Secret Service is currently available on Pluto.tv, VOD and Blu-ray. No Time to Die is currently in theaters.

During the pandemic, most of us wanted comfort content to get us to sleep. But did we err too far away from fulfilling art, and towards escapism? On this episode Terra Fernandez and I debate a now-36-year-old book that seems to have gained — or maintained — relevance recently in the world of social media, using a debate between George Orwell (and his 1984) and Aldous Huxley (and his Brave New World) as the modern precipitator to the media environment we currently face. We discuss:

- the reputation of this book, from media luminaries like Tristan Harris recommending its critique;
- alternate theories of TV influence, from gatekeepers to “the cone of silence”;
- Terra’s experience working in advertising, on TV, online, and with branded content.

Also:

- how quaint the book’s polemic is against Reagan post-Trump;
- how dated the book’s TV polemic has become, with its viewership going down;
- but how prescient the book’s polemic has been when applied to the internet.

Terra Fernandez is a director of content partnerships in advertising. While this photo of her is indicative of her skeptical thoughts on the book, it was also, in the moment, an impression of me.

Amusing Ourselves to Death is available in multiple editions, including its 20th anniversary edition, online and at brick and mortar bookstores.

Working from home, Jamie Kirkpatrick edited a solid, tight Western script that was proposed to him as “a Wal-Mart movie,” only to realize from the dailies that it was actually turning into a great movie. Months later, after successful reviews from the Venice Film Festival, writer-director Potsy Ponciroli’s Western is in theaters and one of the year’s best movies. In particular, one of the influences for the movie discussed between editor and director was Kevin Costner’s underrated, last directorial outing, Open Range, and in particular its messy gunfight finale. On this episode, joined by Ted Haycraft, we discuss:

- The wide list of Westerns Kirkpatrick studied while editing, from Blazing Saddles to Pale Rider;
- two editors shop talk, particularly about editing a film remotely frame-by-frame on software that lags significantly;
- then they talk shop more, particularly about Kirkpatrick’s short editing schedule for Old Henry;
- and then, somehow, they talk more editorial shop.

Also:

- Kevin Costner’s tiny directorial trilogy of lengthy, cinematically-informed films, which talk back to film history;
- why certain perfectly-great film’s Oscar success hurts them in posterity, when they won over other beloved films (Dances With Wolves v. GoodFellas);
- how many bullets are actually in a movie six-shooter, at least from an editor’s standpoint;
- and also: more editors’ shop talk.

Jamie Kirkpatrick is a New York-based editor and filmmaker. His feature editing credits include Dave Chappelle’s Block Party, Ed Burns’ The Groomsmen, My Friend Dahmer, We Summon the Darkness, and Critical Thinking.

Open Range is available digitally to rent or buy.

Old Henry is currently playing in select theaters.

During the pandemic, Austin-based prop master and art director Scott A. Reeder started messing around on TikTok, combining short but entertaining behind-the-scenes tidbits — alongside dad jokes. One-point-five million followers later, this work-based lark has turned into a phenomenon. On this episode, I’m joined by Jacob Gay, a former Evansville native who works with Scott on the CW’s current Walker reboot. The three of us discuss:

- How his daughter prompted Scott, who’d always been shy about telling jokes, to make his first post;
-Scott’s work on both generations of TV’s Walker;
- and how his brilliant paper/rock/scissors Good, the Bad, and the Ugly parody was overshadowed by a breakthrough walking-home-from-the-bar joke.

Also:

- How Reeder translated his professional craftsman expertise into a social network following;
- why social networks are becoming promotional to working, below the line crew members;
- and the nuts and bolts of monetizing a social media from a side-gig into a main income stream.

Scott A. Reeder is a prop master and art director who’s worked in TV and film (Machete, the Friday the 13th remake, Grindhouse, The Leftovers, Friday Night Lights, Panic, and Walker: Texas Ranger), including his work as co-writer/director (Boondoggle). His TIkTok, YouTube, Instagram, and various social media accounts can be found through his Linktr.ee.

Jacob Gay is a production specialist working in the Austin, TX film and television community. Originally from Evansville, IN, he loves comedies, playing the mandolin and watching basketball (go Pacers!). And podcasts, too, obviously.

Del Close was an early member of the Compass Player (later Second City), an early proponent of “Yes, and” improv method, the “Harold” longform improv format, and an unironic “guru” of almost every major comedy player who came out of Chicago into Saturday Night Live into your favorite comedies of the last 40 years. Yet, why isn’t he known to many, or all, and why do those who did knew him personally describe him as a “madman”? On this episode is Heather Ross, director and co-writer of the new Close documentary For Madmen Only, along with her co-producer and -editor George Mandl, and former Chicago improv student Dustin Levell. We discuss:

• How Ross’s doc work with women in Chicago kept her hearing stories about this “Close guy with a needle hanging out of his arm” who trained all her favorite comedians;

• the closest Close had to an autobiography, the late-’80s pre-Vertigo comic Wasteland, and how its visual narrative contributed to the doc;

• his degree of shock-seeking and self-mythologizing;

• and why Chicago improvers from Mike Myers to Bill Murray have wanted to make a biopic out of Close’s life;

Also:

• the difference between the ‘60s San Franciscan Harold versus the “Teaching” Harold;

• the influence of the book Close’s tri-authored book Truth in Comedy and its profound wisdom, both personally and artistically;

• the ambivalent nature of being a great “guru” and having one’s students surpass in levels of fame;

• and why the 4-20% of genuine good improv is ephemerally like the being around your funniest friends at the lunch table in high school — you had to be there, and it can never be recreated.

Heather Ross is an Emmy-Ward winning documentarian for her film Girls on the the Wall, along with producing on the genealogy series Who Do You Think You Are. She also directed several shorts in the “It Gets Better” series of advocacy films.

George Mandl is a film editor based out of Los Angeles. He and his work can be found at his website.

Dustin Levell is a Chicago-based comedy writer, performer, and stage director who trained at Second City and Improv Olympic.

For Madmen Only: The Stories of Del Close is currently available to rent or buy on VOD. And, also, on Kanopy.

Every child who was raised post the invention of VCR, post-DVD, post-streaming, developed the same habit, one encouraged by (a) tired and beleaguered parent(s): watching the same dumb, terrible movie, hundreds of times, over, and over, and over. For me and my brother, the movie my parents taped off HBO and left for us, one I count having watch maybe over 100 times before I was 10 years old, was Police Academy 4 (other candidates included Police Academy 3, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles I and II, and Return of the Jedi). On this episode, I’m joined by my brother, Chris Hazen, as we discuss:

- this sequel to our 50th, drunken episode;
- how absolutely, truly dumb this Police Academy sequel is, in terms of its reliance on skateboarding; ninjas; ’80s stereotypes on gay bars and voodoo;
- its before-their-day stars, in their roles (Sharon Stone, David Spade);
- and the obnoxiously familiar ways we love this movie as brothers.

Also:

- What VHSes we had access to from our father’s cabinet collection;
- the power of a movie’s 3rd act on a child who’s only seen a few plots/movies;
- the grab-bag logic of connecting this sequel to a highly successful, yearly series;
- and why we, as brothers, diverted our identical movie tastes after we hit puberty.

Chris Hazen lives in Newburgh, Indiana.

The kindest, humblest, most talented, best-combo film editor I’ve ever worked with was Mark Yoshikawa. From his humble beginnings assistant-editing for Richard Chew (Star Wars, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest), to his rise through the ranks to co-picture editor for Terrence Malick (The New World, Knight of Cups), Yoshikawa’s ascendancy was always measured and earned, learning through the process as he made his way to large studio blockbusters. On this episode, we talk half Mark’s career, half one of his formative films, Hirokazu Kore-eda’s After Life, and Kore-eda’s career. And:

- Mark’s most recent work, Reminiscence, how it called on skills he loved such. as non-linearity, that he developed for Lisa Joy on HBO’s Westworld;
- how that AE ascendancy, from That Thing you Do! to Best In Show taught him the skills to “run the room” and be a calming presence in multiple editing rooms;
- and why his work knowing the footage on Malick’s The New World led to a picture editor promotion.

Also:

- Mark’s formative viewing of After Life at a Los Angeles Little Tokyo festival screening;
- that docu-sensibility of “movies as memory” application of both After Life and Reminiscence, and cinema as a memory as a “story that you tell yourself”;
- and the true work of We-Wei and “avoiding the filmmaker’s hand” in regards to finding pristine performers’s genuine behavior.

Mark Yoshikawa is a film editor best known for his work on The Tree of Life, The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1 and 2, HBO’s Westworld and the pilot to Succession. His most recently work, Reminiscence, starring Hugh Jackman and Rebecca Ferguson, is available in theaters and on HBO Max.

Hirokazu Kore-eda’s After Life is available on VOD and on physical media from Criterion.

The last pick in this series of TV G.O.A.T.s is mine and an obvious, modern one: HBO’s The Wire. On this episode, joined by Ted Heycraft, we discuss:

- Why a friend’s recommendation of many hours of content, even why the say it a show is “the greatest,” might lead towards a long time before following up;
- how the literary social novel survive into the genre of Peak TV, in which a story might take a long, boring time, to setup its reveals?;
- when the payoffs start happening, how this seems like some of the most sophisticated filmed entertainment ever when it comes to cause and effect.
- and how a pristinely plotted show could still do throwaway actions such as putting a reference line from Peckinpah’s The Wild Bunch into ever episode of its second season.

Also:

- Why everyone’s favorite “definitive” character from the show has their fate end in a Jesse James / Robert Ford fashion;
- why the show’s real definitive character, beyond the city of Baltimore itself, may have their big moment in a monologue in the show’s penultimate episode;
- how this murder’s row of novelists filled into a writers-room leads to the first three seasons “being better than the first two Godfathers”;
- the beauty of each season withholding music until its final 20 minute montage;
- and if this show’s legacy of delegitimizing the War on Drugs is still enough.

The Wire is available from HBO, currently streaming on their MAX service, and also on Blu-ray.

Before Peak TV, what was considered the television medium’s G.O.A.T.? One prominent candidate among TV critics for many years was another British import, this 1986 mini-series from the famed playwright/novelist/screenwriter Dennis Potter. On this episode, joined by Ted Heycraft, we discuss:

- Why this TV mini-series works as a deep, literary genre-hybrid;
- how that hybrid incorporates with Potter’s distinct, self-proclaimed genre of the lipsync-musical (with examples likes Pennies from Heaven);
- its relation to the American Singing Detective feature, directed by Keith Gordon.

Also:

- The three-level fever-dream aspect of blending detective fiction, hospital disease-feature, and autobiographical skin-disease time;
- how long — and cinematically — it takes to reveal the biographical details;
- why this show, previously a critical favorite, has been forgotten;
- and why it ends with such a deceptively happy ending, and whether it deserves it?

The Singing Detective TV series is not streaming anywhere, not even at the BBC. It is available on DVD.

Before the advent of the current Peak TV era, television has seen its reputation burnished from the low idiot box cool medium to the novelistic adult venue for sophistication that, in especially the last few years, has been collectively stealing talent from and kicking the ass of its audio/visual counterpart, cinema. How did we get to Peak TV? What were the isolated beacons of quality before the era? In this first of a three-part and — as all G.O.A.T. naturally conversations go — highly subjective series, Ted Haycraft is back to show off his pick: 1967’s Kafka-esque, surreal SF spy allegory(?), The Prisoner. On this episode, we discuss:

- Why its star, (mostly) pseudonym’d writer, producer, and director Patrick McGoohan became a creative force on this show;
- then never replicated its creativity or success again;
- if this is the birth of the mythology, Reddit show, a la Twin Peaks or Lost, that’s ripe for endless speculation of its deliberate mysteries; - and… fucking Rover, man…!

Also:

- Why it didn’t seem so obvious then that actually putting an end to a story on a television series would be so impactful;
- why it actually feels modern by spinning its wheels during the middle part of its episode run;
- how absolutely bonkers and bold that finale still is, much less was when it aired;
- and how it formatively impacted people from then-13-year-old Alan Moore to -9-year-old Ted.

The Prisoner is currently streaming on IMDb TV and Tubi, and also available on DVD and Blu-ray.