The Right Stuff (1983) Directed by Philip Kaufman

Astrid:
I wanted to watch this film because of Sam Shepard. I remembered that he rides his horse through the barren land of California to a shed-like bar to drink whiskey in excess and to dance with his cool wife (Barbara Hershey). I also thought that they ride back to their house, make love in khaki sheets, and have long after-sex discussions naked with some body parts showing. But a lot of this was just dreaming, because Sam is hardly in The Right Stuff and when he is, he mostly flies his boring and fast plane or makes some dull remark on the ridiculousness of the American space project. The poetry and sex were entirely a product of my imagination.

In the early 1970s Sam Shepard went under the name Slim Shadow and he was a drummer. I know this because I just finished Just Kids by Patti Smith. He was also a successful (and married) off-Broadway playwright, but Patti did not know that when they first met. What is so attractive about the idea of a drummer-playwright-novelist-actor guy? I guess there is something there that gives license to my imagination. It's certainly a sexier idea than a space man.

In reality The Right Stuff is a long-winded movie about the beginning of the US space project. It does not tackle any interesting questions like what might they find in space? Why do they have to go out there? Or why did so many astronauts turn to god after floating in space? The space is fascinating, this movie isn't. We are given the most boring documentary-like look into how the first seven American astronauts prepare for their expeditions. The men are portrayed as simple meat-and-potatoes guys, so it does not take much effort from Sam Shepard to appear more intelligent as the lonely cowboy test pilot. You know what, they should have given his role to Clint Eastwood. Then I would have not made the mistake of re-watching this film at all, because he was never a drummer or a novelist...




Nick:

"Those magnificent men in  their flying machines,......"

I was quite surprised when Astrid suggested we re-watch The Right Stuff. But then I remembered she's reading Patti Smith's book Just Kids which features Mr Sam Shepard. Sam, if you didn't know, is a playwright, actor, author, director and all round cool dude. He's even won a Pulitzer prize, though I'm more impressed by his book about Bob Dylan's Rolling Thunder Tour. So before Patti he lived with Charles Mingus, since Patti he's been with Jessica Lange. You could say that Sam is the thinking woman's heart throb. I think this explains a lot about his appeal in The Right Stuff.

Shephard plays the laconic and illusive Chuck Yeager, whom, when he can be bothered, casually breaks the sound barrier flying some kind of orange rocket. He's a pilot who shows no fear and is admiringly  backed up by his wife Glennis, played by the criminally under-used Barbara Hershey. The fact that Hershey is playing Yaeger's wife already distinguishes him as a different class of pilot. The film then follows a bunch of other pilots as they train to be the first Americans in space: yes, astronauts. The Right Stuff is three hours long, based on real events that span the late 1940's to the mid-1960's. It has a decent cast and is at times witty and sardonic. But the screen only really lights up when Shepard's pilot cowboy moodily hovers.

While watching The Right Stuff other thoughts overtake me. The Space Race showed a rare willingness and excitement about exploration which seems to have died now. No longer does man seek to explore other planets in any meaningful way. The planet Earth is surrounded by all kinds of Space Stations and satellites that seem to be monitoring us, here on earth and not...them in outer space.

The Swimmer (1968) Directed by Frank Perry

Nick:
Perceptions of how I think I am seen by other people is something I don't think about too much. We all want to be thought of in a good light. I don't send around a questionnaire asking "Am I a good egg?" to friends and acquaintances. Maybe I should to get a better understanding of what my friends really think of me. The like button on Facebook is probably the closest we get to some kind of consensus on our musings and popularity amongst our friends. But what if you're like Ned Merrill in The Swimmer? What if you are blighted by something out of your control, the loss of a job, some unsavory episode or misfortune, which means people talk about you without you knowing, and formulate an opinion of yourself that you don't quite see.

The Swimmer is one of those films where you wonder how this picture got green-lit, so strange is the topic. After being away for awhile (we don't really know where), Ned appears at some old friends poolside. After realizing that there are swimming pools in every home across the rich Connecticut suburb valley where he lives, Ned decides to swim home. Along the way, pool by pool, he meets old friends, neighbors, lovers and enemies, who are all initially pleased if a little wary to see him. But as Ned's journey progresses, some uncomfortable truth about himself comes to pass.

Burt Lancaster plays Ned. Burt spends the whole movie in his swimming trunks. What a body for a then 55 year old Lancaster. I always think Burt has the most incredibly wide shoulders (he started his career as an acrobat in the circus). It's easy to think of Burt as this über-macho leading man of the 1950's and 1960's cinema. But then think of the quality pictures Lancaster made: From Here To Eternity, The Birdman Of Alcatraz, The Sweet Smell of Success, Seven Days In May, The Leopard and Atlantic City amongst many others. You realize that Lancaster was one of the great screen actors, even though there is no fuss surrounding him like Brando or Nicholson. The Swimmer is a cult favorite nowadays hiding one of Lancaster's best roles. Watching his journey unravel is fascinating.

Astrid:
Some part of me is always missing The Strand book store on the corner of 12th street and Broadway (Manhattan). In a dream life, I would live only a walking distance from there. Physically, the distance to that scenario is huge at this moment. Right now I am reading Just Kids by Patti Smith and it makes me long for a past I never had. What is disturbing to realize in life, is how the same ingredients can lead to such different results. This is true in cooking but it is also true with people. Is it a question of luck, magic, timing, location, destiny or something even more flimsy and undefinable?

The Swimmer portrays a lost man in the middle of his disconnection from what used to define him. I have not seen many films so fully dedicated to an episode like this without the need to explain how he got there or where he will end up. It is disturbing to see the man's nakedness and vulnerability in front of his old neighbors who do not understand why he is back – their reactions range between pretending everything is normal to baffled expressions of anger. His idea 'to swim home' through all the pools in the neighboring houses appears peculiar but inventive at first, but slowly the audience begins to see the madness of the effort. At the present the swimmer does not remember, or he has repressed, the traumatic events in his resent past which have changed the course of his life.

I guess what I am trying to say with the help of The Swimmer and Patti Smith is that me ending up as a regular customer of The Strand is as likely as it is unlikely. The future will be a chain of events somewhat influenced by my aspirations but also defined by circumstance – most likely I will be both the swimmer and some woman in the sun chair by the pool with a drink in her hand. This sense of not knowing while constantly intrigued is crucial for life.