GOLDSTEIN (1965)
Directed by Philip Kaufman & Benjamin Manaster
Facets DVD
THE FILM
Elation is everywhere. You just have to know where to look.
Twenty minutes into Goldstein, the film's geezer-prophet nucleus, Goldstein, runs along a darkened Chicago avenue. He then turns to the camera and yells, "If you don't watch out, they'll bounce you down the street!" He's right. And that's why I'm elated.
In the early 1960s, a lot of people in America had good ideas about movies. John Cassavetes. Shirley Clarke. Even Doris Wishman. But over the succeeding five decades, lots of other people interpreted those ideas, made their own movies, and blew it. Which is why Goldstein is something special. Because Goldstein is a first generation adaptor. It's headway in motion -- a giddy, forward-thinking blast of cinema-as-art before cinema-as-art became a benumbing concept. Much in the same way that Halloween and Friday The 13th begat Nightmares In A Damaged Brain and Don't Go In The Woods in the early 1980s, so to did Goldstein find its footing in the mid-1960s. Directly affected by Casssavetes' Shadows (actor Ben Carruthers even shows up) and Morris Engel's Weddings And Babies, Goldstein is a droll, folk-verite fantasy which does a lot of the things that Brian Depalma's Greetings and Jim McBride's David Holzman's Diary did. Before they did them.
Rising out of Lake Michigan, Goldstein wanders the streets of Chicago. He appears to be some sort of transient spiritual savior, sent to help a struggling couple with their problems. We can't be sure of what he represents, but we don't need to be. Fluidly exploring the city, Goldstein encounters and partakes of several situations. Some uplifting. Some surreal. Some sad. All captivating. Even when the film leaves our hero behind, we get to eavesdrop on a charming living room chat, witness a strange meat factory tour, and hop on a dreamy El train ride at midnight. Eventually, a loose narrative takes form, but it's a passive gesture. Goldstein deals in mortality. Anything tangible is secondary.
While the film's methodologies (gentle jump-cuts, inventive photography, cartoon sound effects) are a welcome presence, Goldstein's allure lies in its ability to communicate through playful suggestion. This is a spatial experience. Events, tones, and sentiments are constantly commingling. One minute, Goldstein ecstatically lobs merchandise from the back of a pick-up truck while it barrels down the highway, recalling the destructive glee prevalent in any number of Laurel & Hardy's two-reelers. Then, suddenly, we're forced to witness an impromptu abortion. Though intentionally comedic, that's still no walk in the park. But this undulating quality is what endears the film. This is a world full of laughs, sorrow, sex, and death, one of conscience, conflict, and hope -- just like the one we live in. But not quite. It's a sober reality grounded in surreal fantasy, resulting in a tone which stimulates amiable thought rather than anxiety. All while a string quartet plucks, a music box tinkles, and someone stops traffic with a Stradivarius melody. Lovely.
Towards the end of the film, a man obsessively combs the city for Goldstein. When asked by a friend for a reasoning behind the search, the man replies, "It's not finding him. It's looking for him."
I can't help but agree.
AUDIO AND VIDEO
Looks like a VHS. I don't mind.
EXTRAS
"A Conversation With Philip Kaufman" is a thirty minute on-camera interview with the film's famous co-director/writer/producer. I haven't watched it.
FINAL THOUGHTS
The fruits of America's early-1960s direct-cinema experiments are a near bottomless pit of joy. Goldstein isn't perfect. It's not even important. But it is simultaneously ridiculous and euphoric, so much so that a viewing might make you soar. Given how rare those moments can be, I'd say it's worth a look. But not necessarily a find -- that's why I haven't watched the interview.
— Joseph A. Ziemba, 03.17.11 |
|
