Latest news with #L.A.Rebellion
Los Angeles Times
26-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
Still quietly radical, ‘Killer of Sheep' showcases an unvarnished side of 1970s L.A. life
For decades, Charles Burnett's best film was little more than a rumor. Shot over weekends in the early 1970s with a mostly nonprofessional cast and a budget that didn't hit five figures, 'Killer of Sheep' wouldn't receive its first public screening until the fall of 1978 at New York's Whitney Museum. Sporadically playing only at festivals, colleges and museums, the movie failed to garner a proper theatrical release until 2007, its complicated music clearances seemingly dooming it to obscurity. Before then, many of us had never seen 'Killer of Sheep' but, in fact, we still hadn't fully seen it. Now hitting theaters in a gorgeous 4K restoration, 'Killer of Sheep' is, at last, complete, with Dinah Washington's version of 'Unforgettable,' which couldn't be cleared for the 2007 release, returned to the movie's poignant final stretches. Because of its towering reputation — lauded as one of our city's finest films, a hallmark of American neorealism and the pinnacle of the Black independent filmmaker movement dubbed the L.A. Rebellion — the movie can confuse first-time viewers who assume that all masterpieces must be swaggering, visionary totems. Not so. Some can be gentle and tender, attuned to the rhythms of the everyday. According to the program notes that accompanied the film's Whitney premiere, Burnett sought to 'try to recreate a situation without reducing life to a simple plot.' Many small things happen in 'Killer of Sheep,' nothing of much consequence. But the enlargement of life itself is profound. Burnett was a UCLA graduate student in his late 20s when he fashioned his story of Stan (Henry G. Sanders), a Watts-dwelling husband and father of two who's employed at a slaughterhouse. His grim work handling dead sheep gives the movie its title, but little time is actually spent at Stan's job. Those juxtaposed scenes of bleating livestock and skinned carcasses still leave an impression, but they're just one strand in a tapestry of threads, none of them given more importance than the others. Instead of a conventional narrative, 'Killer of Sheep' presents us with a mood. Stan's face is one of perpetual exhaustion, matched by that of his unnamed wife (Kaycee Moore), who projects a silent sadness. In fragments, we get a sense of a family and the impoverished community around them. There's a scene in which Stan's friends unsuccessfully recruit him for an illicit scheme. In another, Stan and a different friend try to move a heavy car engine onto the back of a truck, with comically pathetic results. Elsewhere, a white store owner flirts with Stan, suggesting he ought to work for her. Each scene is a separate tiny episode, but they all connect back to the nagging pain and resilience that define Stan's existence. Early on, Stan complains about his woes to his pal Oscar, who replies, 'Why don't you kill yourself? You'll be a lot happier.' Stan resists that notion, although as he looks at his young daughter wearing a goofy rubber dog mask, he admits, 'Got a feeling I might do somebody else some harm, though.' The tone is more bone-tired than menacing, and it carries throughout 'Killer of Sheep,' which contains no tragedies or major twists, just an unerringly calm remove as its black-and-white 16mm images, shot by Burnett himself, chronicle working-class people getting by. The film's deceptively modest approach belies a radical strategy to depict ordinary Black life at a time when such images were hardly in abundance. Shots of kids aimlessly throwing rocks at passing freight trains are plainspoken, presented with documentary-like simplicity. And the dialogue is largely functional, Burnett never building to some grand thesis, refusing to reduce Watts to inner-city clichés or its denizens to doe-eyed saints. In the place of stereotypes, 'Killer of Sheep' offers an understated paean to the Great Migration and the Black families who made their way from the South to Los Angeles, seeking a fresh start but finding an inhospitable landing spot. Featuring blues, R&B and jazz on the soundtrack (the music often expresses the sorrow and joy that the characters bottle up), the film is a marvel of accidental beauty, the occasional stunning sequence manufactured with a minimum of fuss. Sanders, who had appeared in a few films before 'Killer of Sheep,' deftly plays a man whose depression extends beyond a lack of money. Adrift and emasculated, Stan is less a patriarch than the defeated captain of a sinking ship, drowning in his futility. But the performance allows no room for pity, a feat even truer of his costar Moore, a crucial figure in future L.A. Rebellion films such as 'Bless Their Little Hearts' and 'Daughters of the Dust.' Moore, who died in 2021, could say everything with a look, and as Stan's wife, she communicates both the disappointment and sturdy love this woman feels for her embattled husband. When she takes a second to examine herself in the reflection of a pot lid, she illuminates so many unappreciated mothers. And when Stan and his wife quietly slowdance in their living room, scored to Dinah Washington's 'This Bitter Earth,' their brief respite devastates. 'Today you're young,' Washington laments. 'Too soon you're old.' Burnett selected his film's songs with care, curating a fittingly soulful counterpoint to his critical portrait of inequality — not just in L.A. but in the country as a whole. Political activist and singer Paul Robeson, who died a year before 'Killer of Sheep' was completed, is all over the soundtrack, his booming voice serving as a moral compass, never more so than on 'The House I Live In,' which hovers over a scene of Black children playing in a Watts littered with dirty streets and abandoned buildings. 'What is America to me?' Robeson wonders. 'A name? A map? Or the flag I see?' The film asks the same question and Robeson provides the answer: 'All races, all religions / That's America to me.' 'Killer of Sheep' shows us a part of that America, the invisible rendered visible, from sea to shining sea.
Los Angeles Times
03-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
12 March launches and L.A. happenings you won't want to miss
A penny loafer with subtle studs and detachable tassels? Weekend Max Mara and Sebago have our attention with their new, three-year co-branded collaboration, launching with a reimagining of Sebago's iconic Dan penny loafer, a cult shoe that gained popularity among East Coast Ivy Leaguers in the 1950s. Crafted from smooth brushed leather and featuring hand-sewn details, the Dan penny loafer also features a durable waterproof sole in natural leather. The shoe is available in brown, burgundy and black, with the Weekend Max Mara butterfly stud applied on the side of each shoe too. Available now. Filmmaker Julie Dash, curator LeRonn Brooks, and directors Bryant Griffin and Kitty Hu are coming together to celebrate the artists of the L.A. Rebellion — the Black, Asian, Chicano and Native American artists and filmmakers who emerged from UCLA's School of Theater, Film and Television in the years after the 1965 Watts uprising. The filmmakers who came out of this historic moment developed revolutionary styles that challenged Hollywood's restrictive representation of minorities. This event will feature a screening of the Emmy-winning 'Artbound' episode 'L.A. Rebellion: A Cinematic Movement' alongside Dash's 1975 short film, 'Four Women.' A conversation with the filmmakers on the historical and contemporary role of Black film as a revolutionary practice will follow the screening. Wednesday, March 26, 6:30 p.m. 1200 Getty Center Drive, Los Angeles. Bottega Veneta knows a thing or two about bags. Representing the gold standard of leather artisanship and contemporary design, its new SS25 Ciao Ciao bag is no exception. Meaning both 'hello' and 'goodbye,' the bag name conveys a playful nature, evident in details like its hidden hook closure. With one simple adjustment, the bag flap can be closed at the front for a classic shape or attached to the interior intrecciato tramezza (pocket) for a more slouched look. For added flexibility, the bag also features a top handle for hand carry and a removable strap for crossbody wear. Available now. The work of Corita Kent — an innovative artist, educator and social justice advocate often referred to as the 'Pop-Art Nun' — is now more accessible than ever with the official opening of Corita Art Center (CAC) in the heart of the Los Angeles Arts District. Its inaugural exhibition, 'Heroes and Sheroes,' pays homage to important figures including the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., Coretta Scott King, Robert F. Kennedy and Cesar Chavez. Among educational workshops and activities, CAC also will offer access to a comprehensive archive of Kent's life and works. Admission is free; reservations are required. Opening March 8. 811 Traction Ave., #3A, Los Angeles. Leading contemporary and modern art gallery Hauser & Wirth has a jam-packed spring season. Two must-see shows: Charles Gaines' 'Numbers and Trees, The Tanzania Baobabs,' on view until May 24 at Hauser & Wirth West Hollywood, showcasing new Plexiglas works based on photographs of baobab trees that the artist shot during a trip to Tanzania in 2023, and David Hammons' 'Concerto in Black and Blue,' on view until June 1 at Hauser & Wirth Downtown Los Angeles, presented for the first time since its debut over 20 years ago. 8980 Santa Monica Blvd., West Hollywood, and 901 E. 3rd St., Los Angeles. To celebrate the Year of the Wood Snake, L.A.'s GYOPO — a collective of diasporic Korean cultural and art professionals — has launched a two-piece wearable collaboration with L.A.-based musician Audrey Nuna and designer Lisa Danbi Park of the eponymous brand danbi. According to GYOPO, 'the Year of the Wood Snake beckons the shapeshifting, shedding, patience and transformation we all need.' Layer both tops to conjure the feeling of a snake's second skin. Available now. Studio Symoné is a beauty media platform founded by writer Darian Symoné Harvin. Her viral social media series featuring interviews with shoppers at local L.A. beauty supply stores was inspired by her work as a reporter covering beauty at the intersection of politics and pop culture. As a continuation of this dialogue, Studio Symoné has partnered with Sip & Sonder Inglewood, a Black-owned cafe and roaster, for an ongoing residency. The 'Studio Hours' program takes place Fridays from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., offering weekly work sessions where folks can come to study, dream, conspire and contribute to Harvin's first edition of the Studio Symoné zine, which will focus on telling stories in the L.A. beauty communities. Every other Friday from 3-5 p.m., Harvin will DJ as part of her 'In the Lab' series. 108 S. Market St., Inglewood. Designed under the guidance of co-creative directors Lucie Meier and Luke Meier, Jil Sander Olfactory Series 1 is a collection of fragrances that fuse botany and technology with the brand's iconic design codes across six unisex formulas. Each fragrance is infused with three natural ingredients — the synthetic molecules of aldehydes, alcohol from upcycled carbon emissions and water — to reach the 'highest degree of olfactory clarity and expression.' 'The fragrances were created with the best technologies,' says the brand, 'to evoke the profound resonances between mother nature and human nature and express our deepest emotions.' Available now. 'I'm not like a regular mom, I'm a cool mom' is the ultimate motto for Cool Moms, a podcast and community event series hosted by Elise Peterson featuring mothers who prioritize their passions. Past Cool Moms guests include Ricki Lake, Evelynn Escobar and Brooke DeVard. With storytelling at its heart, Cool Moms aims to build an inspired world of mothers and supporters by cultivating access to entrepreneurial, wellness and financial knowledge aiding in an equitable future for all mothers. This month, don't miss Peterson's live conversation with actor and certified cool mom Tika Sumpter. Tuesday, March 25, 6–8 p.m., at the Line Hotel Apartment Suite. 3515 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles. L.A.'s favorite fashion brand for go-anywhere dresses and swoon-worthy handbags has answered our prayers and ventured into activewear with the launch of Staud Sport. As is to be expected, these aren't your average gym clothes. Think convertible anoraks, packable neoprene ballet flats, oversize scrunchies that double as mini purses! Although Staud Sport is ideal for a workout, these pieces also seamlessly integrate into your wardrobe, ready to take you from Pilates to coffee or even a night out with style and ease, no matter the season. When asked about the newest category in the Staud world, Sarah 'Staud' Staudinger, chief executive and creative director of Staud, said: 'We've created a collection that delivers on comfort and performance without compromising style. These aren't just clothes for sport — they're clothes for life, because we believe life is sport.' Available now. Digital marketplace merges art fair and department store with an innovative 'IRL-to-URL' experience designed to make world-class designers accessible to all. From archival pieces such as Jean Prouvé's 1969 Total Filling Station to contemporary ones like Max Lamb armchairs created exclusively for there's a gorgeous variety of art and architecture for everyone. After an invite-only, in-person event at the Pacific Design Center, all items will be available online March 31–April 2. Next time you're traipsing through LAX, take refuge in the beachy design and blue hues of Cartier's first airport boutique on the West Coast. Located in the Tom Bradley International Terminal, the store features a selection of the Maison's signature jewelry, timepieces, fragrances and leather goods. Choose from classics such as Cartier's iconic La Panthère fragrances, LOVE jewelry collection and Santos watches. With contributing reporting by Alia Yee Noll.
Los Angeles Times
20-02-2025
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
Review: A master director's empathy shines in the belatedly released ‘The Annihilation of Fish'
No movie deserves the ignominious burial that Charles Burnett's 1999 romantic drama originally received. Premiering at the Toronto Film Festival before making its way to a few subsequent events, it essentially vanished in the wake of a negative Variety review, failing to secure distribution and seemingly destined to languish in obscurity. But to watch 'The Annihilation of Fish' now, 26 years after its debut, that frustrating backstory only adds extra poignancy to a picture already suffused with it. A tale of two troubled souls who find each other, the movie has become an even stronger tribute to the people (not to mention the art) we so easily push aside. Finally released after a meticulous restoration by, among others, the UCLA Film & Television Archive, 'The Annihilation of Fish' is especially welcome here in Los Angeles, which is both the movie's setting and the home of its director, whose films have too often suffered delayed or indifferent theatrical runs. A key figure in the L.A. Rebellion (named for the group of SoCal filmmakers in the 1970s dedicated to telling stories about Black life), Burnett directed the most pivotal work of the movement, 1977's 'Killer of Sheep,' which took 30 years to get a proper release due to music rights issues. (It currently sits tied at No. 43 on Sight and Sound's critics poll of the greatest motion pictures ever made.) Similarly, Burnett's 1983 drama 'My Brother's Wedding' was shown at the New York Film Festival in an incomplete version, but an underwhelmed critical reaction doomed the movie, until Burnett was finally able to re-edit and effectively finish it in 2007. Burnett's cinema often focuses on everyday characters inhabiting a working-class L.A. far removed from the glamour of Hollywood. So it should be no surprise that he has enormous affection for the people who populate 'The Annihilation of Fish' — even if few other filmmakers know what to do with them. Fish (James Earl Jones), who was born in Jamaica, has just arrived in L.A. by bus from New York, where he lived in a mental institution that decided it couldn't do anything more for him. His disturbing outbursts, in which he's convinced he must battle a demon, ultimately proved too much. Meanwhile, Poinsettia (Lynn Redgrave) has recently abandoned San Francisco after the death of her beloved. There's a catch, though: She believes she was romantically involved with famed Italian composer Giacomo Puccini, constantly talking to him as if he was right next to her. A dash of cosmic fate conspires for Fish and Poinsettia to rent apartments in the same Echo Park boarding house, run by Mrs. Muldroone (Margot Kidder), an emotionally disheveled widow who has a story about her last name and her late husband if you've got the time. She's just eccentric enough that she doesn't question the delusions harbored by her new tenants, and Burnett challenges his audience to embrace Fish and Poinsettia in the same spirit. Not that 'The Annihilation of Fish' has any patience for the cutesy tendencies that sometimes attend love stories about people with mental health problems. Burnett never insists that they're the sane ones, nor does he infantilize Fish and Poinsettia's afflictions. Instead, he applies a bracing matter-of-factness to their skewed reality. Occasionally, Fish will be seized with adrenaline as he prepares to wrestle that demon, dangerously flailing around his apartment while Laura Karpman's lilting score shifts into a jazz-infused cacophony of drums and horns. At other times, Poinsettia's rampant neediness comes spilling out, resulting in anger or despair. 'The Annihilation of Fish' observes it all with a calm eye, waiting until we acclimate to these unusual circumstances. Somewhere along the way, they will fall in love, and we'll fall in love with them. His film legacy built on Darth Vader and Mufasa, Jones rarely got an opportunity to play the love interest outside of 1974's 'Claudine.' So it's rewarding to see him as the kindly but shy Fish, nicely paired with Redgrave, whose Poinsettia is more temperamental but also more affectionate and open. A friendship blossoms thanks to a shared affection for gin rummy, but Jones slowly reveals Fish's tenderness, the possibility of romance spreading out in front of him. (He still has anxieties, though: Back in Jamaica, interracial love affairs were taboo.) Much of 'The Annihilation of Fish' takes place in and around the boarding house, but Burnett and cinematographer John Njaga Demps occasionally take the couple out into Echo Park as they go for a walk or ride a paddleboat, the gentle hum of a vibrant city in the background. And while Burnett's career has been marked by a stripped-down realism, his Indie Spirit-winning 1990 drama 'To Sleep With Anger' hinted at the otherworldly. Similar mysteries occur in 'The Annihilation of Fish': Each time Fish hurls that imaginary demon out the window of his second-story apartment, the tree below inexplicably shakes briefly. Are we imagining things? Or are we falling under the same spell as the characters? There's a theatricality to the actors' portrayal of mental illness that threatens to clash with the film's otherwise spare presentation. But Jones and Redgrave have such a consistency in how they play these skittish lovers that it drives home the point that their cruel, untamed condition doesn't adhere to the niceties of narrative convention. Never arbitrary but always unwieldy, Fish and Poinsettia's issues are unpredictably ever-present, and Burnett has enough respect for the characters not to believe that a happily-ever-after will 'cure' them. They are who they are, in sickness and in health. To experience this film is to be overcome with melancholy. The love story's fragility makes such a sentiment inescapable, but so is the sight of so many faces who are no longer with us. Redgrave died in 2010, Jones last year. Kidder died in 2018, her own struggles with mental illness well documented and heartbreaking. Beyond its examination of mental health and race, 'The Annihilation of Fish' is a story about mortality in which two older individuals, each unsure if love will ever visit them again, discover that maybe their final chapter hasn't yet been written. It's a fitting metaphor for a film that risked being forgotten — at long last, its time has come.
New York Times
14-02-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
A Great James Earl Jones Role That Can Finally Be Seen
When James Earl Jones died in September at 93, he left behind a great performance that, for 25 years, has gone virtually unseen. The movie, 'The Annihilation of Fish,' directed by Charles Burnett, had its premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival in 1999 but never received a proper release. Now it's getting a second chance, in a restoration that opens Friday at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. 'I hope people see it in a fresh light, and look at the talent,' Burnett, 80, said by phone from his home in Los Angeles. A great deal has changed since 1999: Burnett's masterpiece 'Killer of Sheep,' completed in 1977 and accorded a belated opening in 2007, is more widely available than it had been in those intervening years, and an honorary Oscar for Burnett in 2017 put a spotlight on a body of work that has long been championed by critics. The loose movement from which Burnett emerged — the group of film students at the University of California, Los Angeles, who became known as the L.A. Rebellion — has been the subject of academic attention in recent years. And while Jones's death occurred after the restoration of 'The Annihilation of Fish' was completed, the prospect of seeing the actor in one of his finest roles offers yet another reason to check out this surreal and disarming film. Jones plays Obediah Johnson, an immigrant from Jamaica who begins the movie having spent 10 years under institutional care. Obediah, who goes by the name Fish, is tormented by visions of being attacked by a demon — an invisible presence that he repeatedly tries to wrestle into submission, baffling those around him. Released from his supervised living situation, Fish makes his way from New York to Los Angeles; he figures that the City of Angels will give him an advantage over a demon. Upon arrival, he moves into a boardinghouse run by an eccentric landlady, Mrs. Muldroone (Margot Kidder). Soon they are joined by the woman who becomes the home's only other resident, Poinsettia (Lynn Redgrave), who is running from an invisible companion of her own: the ghost of Puccini, her lover, with whom she has called it quits. (They can't marry because California law requires a corporeal presence.) Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
