Each month, the Mad Art Gallery offers a unique film series that’s guaranteed to make you think, marvel, and, in this week’s case, laugh. The ongoing series “cin‚16” showcases 16 millimeter academic films that cover interesting topics from art to history to science. These rare films, which date from the early 1900s to the mid-80s, would have been thrown out if not for the efforts of the Academic Film Archive of North America, based in San Jose, California. For some reason, AFA-San Jose picked our vey own STL as its satellite home base, so we can now enjoy films that no one else in the country will ever get a chance to view.
On Thursday the 18th, the audience was treated to one engaging hour-long film and three spectacular shorts. After perusing the exhibits (which would be updated the following day for the latest art opening) and grabbing a cold beverage from the beer, wine, and snack vendor, we sat down in a makeshift theater composed of folding chairs and a projection screen, and the show began.
The first film, “De Kooning on De Kooning,” from 1982, featured artist Willem de Kooning at home with his wife Elaine. De Kooning, an influential abstract-expressionist painter famous during the 40s and 50s, shuffles along with a befuddled look on his face and mumbles nonsensically while his wife answers most of the questions. The interview is peppered with interviews, film clips, and pictures from the height of his popularity, and beautiful, full-color stills of his major works are explored and explained. De Kooning is basically incoherent throughout the documentary (he does deliver an amusing “Jesus Christ” when Elaine mentions that one of his paintings fetched $1.5 million in ’82), but it’s apparent that his true passion in life is painting. In the captivating final scene, the camera silently watches the aged artiste as he adds the final touches to a piece. His jittery but purposeful movements, his quiet contemplation, and even the subtle flexing of his jaw line reveal the intensity with which he paints.
The next three films were shorter and funnier-in effect, a sort of payoff for the stuffy, classroom feel of the first (although it was excellent in its own right). “Entr’acte,” from 1924 (!), was a collaboration between director Ren‚ Clair and some of the leading minds of the Dadaist movement, including Marcel Duchamp and Man Ray. In this absurd piece, which kept the audience in stitches, two men leap in slow motion towards a cannon, a display of marksmanship turns deadly when someone decides to shoot the marksman, and a camel leads a funeral procession that would have made Monty Python’s “Ministry of Silly Walks” proud. The filmmakers were pushing the boundaries of special effects at the time, and although many of them look dated, one can guess how exciting it must have been for 20s audiences.
If you’ve ever wondered who designs everyday objects like logos and household appliances, “Raymond Loewy: Father of Industrial Design” (1979) cleared up several questions. Loewy, a transplanted Frenchman, was responsible for the logos for Exxon, Shell, Lucky Strike, Nabisco, and the U.S. Postal Service, as well as the designs for planes, trains, and automobiles (most famously, the Studebaker). Loewy and host Morley Safer (conducting a piece for “60 Minutes”) visit a local hardware store and critique everything from roach trap boxes to toilet seats, with Loewy providing hilarious commentary. Loewy also happens to be the most stereotypical Frenchman ever, sporting a cravat, pencil thin mustache, and large sunglasses. When the surly 85-year-old mentions a conversation with a beautiful young woman, one can’t help but laugh.
The night concluded with a special treat, a “last-minute bonus” in the words of program curator Margie Newman, and it turned out to be the audience’s favorite. The film was some sort of corporate documentary chronicling the evolution of Falstaff (a now-defunct, locally-brewed beer), specifically its early-60s logo change. If you’ve ever seen a 50s commercial, full of cheerful kitsch and horribly outdated domestic stereotypes, well, this film was possibly the last and greatest of its kind. After a careful study, Falstaff decided its new logo needed to convey “cool refreshment,” “masculinity” (“Falstaff has always been a man’s beer,” according to the Dudley Do-Right-sounding voice-over), “tradition,” and “contemporary” (you gotta love the compatibility of those last two). After a mixing sequence in which all these components are brought together, complete with shots of mountain streams, antique rifles, and armored knights in the background, the new and improved logo (which looks suspiciously like its predecessor) is born. From there, the film enters completely ludicrous territory, featuring subliminal messaging and a taste test survey of what look to be recovering alcoholics. We’re also treated to a few commercials from the new marketing campaign, one of which includes two alpha males on a picnic about to engage in some “man-sized pleasure,” courtesy of Falstaff Beer (I am not making this up). This Oscar-worthy bit of cinema concludes with a statement from the CEO that “although the film is over, the story is not; because the story of Falstaff never ends.” (They went bankrupt shortly after the film’s completion).
Hopefully these synopses, which really don’t do the films justice, have convinced you to check out the next installment of “cin‚16.” The next show will take place on Thursday, October 16, and will showcase films about indigenous art from Mexico, India, and Ethiopia. This amazing experience is ABSOLUTELY FREE and presents a great opportunity to get off campus and explore what the city’s art scene has to offer. Hit it up next month, rub elbows with some of St. Louis’s most interesting art patrons, and enjoy once-in-a-lifetime films.