128. Possession

Song - Margherita (Marco Borsato)

Movie: Possession (Andrzej Zulawski, 1981)

I am not the greatest fan of this, but it is further evidence of how limp and full of shit The Shape of Water was. Zulawski, until the end, doesn't reveal what the strange creature is, what its purpose is, why Anna is so invested in it, and whether the creature is even part of the film's reality or of some surrealist dreamscape. And he never bothers to make clear how Anna actually comes in possession of the creature. Is it made out of the men she kills? Is it the direct product of her insanity? Did it just happen to live in the abandoned apartment now inhabited by Anna? None of these questions are answered, and it makes the whole film just more unsettling.

In the end, the whole doppelganger symbolism, plays a bit too much like a trite and not fully realized metaphor about divided Berlin/Germany/Europe - Mark lives next to the Berlin Wall, the film reminds us by periodically returning to an image of two guards seen from Mark's window. Still, and I don't know if this is because of hindsight, it manages to evoke an atmosphere and mood of impending change. We see graffiti asking for the wall to come down, while on the soundtrack we hear the kind of futuristic electro/techno music that has now become a marker of nostalgia for the restless spirit of 70's/80's Europe in general, and Berlin in particular.

Most of the film's mood though is shaped by the utterly manic acting of Sam Neill and Isabelle Adjani, playing Mark and Anna, a husband and wife (with a kid) who absolutely need to break up and absolutely cannot live without each other. Which drives them to insanity. I think at times Zulawski relies a bit too much on their intense acting; after the umpteenth time Anna returns home and has a fight with Mark, you get a little annoyed that Zulawski repeats himself and doesn't do something more or different to drive the story/characters forward or to deepen the film up a bit more. Especially, because when he does so, the film really does reach another level. A scene in which Mark watches a video recording, mysteriously delivered to his front door, of Anna pushing one of her ballet students to the breaking point is almost as distressing as the scenes involving the bizarre creature, certainly so when Anna suddenly breaks the fourth wall.

All of this doesn't mean that Zulawski is wrong to focus so much on Neill and Adjani's performances. They are ridiculously impressive and earn the film its title. They really do act as if they are possessed by demons that make them neither understand each other nor themselves. When they fight each other they do so with utter desperation and a seemingly total abandonment of their rational faculties. And their anger and despair only grow as they barely seem to understand where their emotions come from. The showstopper sequence, set in the Berlin metro, belongs to Adjani who does things with her body that seem almost impossible. The scene is basically only her in a grey tunnel, losing her mind, yet she is so utterly convincing and frightening, it genuinely makes you nauseous. And that's even before it becomes really gory and bloody. 

127. Apocalypse Now

Song - The End (The Doors)

Movie: Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979)

It's both ridiculous and awesome that this film exists. I had not seen it until now, but was somewhat familiar with its iconic moments. Had seen the famous shot of the camo-painted head rising out of the muddy water, thought the head belonged to Marlon Brando instead of Martin Sheen. Was familiar with the Ride of the Valkyries scene (I actually saw Da 5 Bloods before Apocalypse Now), and had seen clips of it, but did not know the music was diegetic. Above all, I knew about the film's unhinged production, about how Martin Sheen suffered a heart attack, how cast and crew ended up much, much longer in the jungle than anticipated and how Coppola feuded with Brando, and threatened suicide multiple times. And then there is the slaughtering of live animals, the napalming of the Philippine forest and the shady deals Coppola apparently made with the Marcos government.

Some of this stuff is obviously quite unethical, and unless you can provide evidence that your film has brought world peace, it's hard to rationally justify such overwrought excess. Apocalypse Now did not bring world peace, nor does it need all that firework to tell the story it tells and to make the points it makes. At least if you consider it first and foremost a Vietnam War film. You can also make a case that this is first and foremost a film about Coppola's grand ambitions and his obsession to make an epic war film. There is a famous quote by Orson Welles that a film set is "the biggest toy train set any boy ever had." Can't think of a better film to illustrate that point than Apocalypse Now, apart from probably Mad Max: Fury Road. The elaborate staging, the complex set-pieces, the visibly exhausted and overheated actors, they are all part of the show and the show is the point. Or rather, Coppola's ability to create the show, and not just from a technical and artistic point of view. The point is not just that Coppola is a great director, but also that him being a great artistic visionary director gives him privileges that other people don't have. It gives him the right to will a film into existence, by whatever means possible. It's not just a cute coincidence that Harrison Ford cameos as G. Lucas, sharing a scene with an actor playing a character named R. Corman. In this film's view, people like Lucas, Corman and Coppola are of equal importance as the Vietnam War.

This would be way more annoying and vulgar if Coppola wasn't indeed damn talented and self-aware. The film largely consists of set-pieces in which Americans perform a show of 'Americanness' on Vietnamese soil. That's most obvious in the Ride of the Valkyries scene (which is truly one of the most spectacular war scenes I've ever seen, and one that leaves no doubt about the vileness of the Americans), the playmates scene, the final confrontation between Sheen and Brando, and Robert Duvall's entire performance. But performance also plays a big role on the scenes down the river. I have always found it a bit curious that Coppola's filmography includes coming-of-age teenage dramas, made after he had already established his legendary status. But that's also what much of the scenes on the river are about. The five teenagers/twenty-somethings on the boat are just as busy building and presenting their identity as they are with transporting Willard upstream. Their desire to be visible, to be seen as someone, is often what leads them into trouble. It is actually easy to see why Spike Lee saw Coppola and Apocalypse Now as an inspiration for Da 5 Bloods. The ways in which the characters of Albert Hall and Laurence Fishburne present themselves, build their identity, and see the war differ from those of their white counterparts. At the same time Coppola puts them on equal footing as the white characters, and doesn't define Hall and Fishburne solely by their blackness.

It is also worth noting that Apocalypse Now's focus on show and performance was clearly on Lee's mind when making Da 5 Bloods. It's not a coincidence that in one of the first scenes of the movie we see his black veterans having a good time in an (apparently really exisiting) Apocalypse Now bar in Saigon. What makes Da 5 Bloods an interesting film is that it is in part about what it means for black Americans to perform 'Americanness' abroad, how that affects the way black Americans see themselves, and how the rest of the world sees black Americans. These are questions that have been rarely addressed in American film, and for which Apocalypse Now is really the perfect springboard.

To get back to Apocalypse Now, Robert Duvall's fantastic performance deserves a few more words. I've mostly known him as a more reserved actor and never expected he could play a cocky, showoff villain with such ease. Just like in the Godfather, he is better than Marlon Brando, and I wished he had a bigger role. In any case I am more and more convinced that Duvall is, despite all his plaudits, an underrated actor, who should be considered among the absolute all-time greats. On the other hand, the more I see of Brando, the more I realize I am not really a fan, though it is worth noting that his role here is not an easy one. His only function is to be symbolic and the final 20 minutes are the weakest part of the film, aside from the grating voiceover.

126. El Topo

Song - A Horse with No Name (America)

Movie: El Topo (Alejandro Jodorowsky, 1970)

A combination of mysticism, lyrical abstractism and sadism is the fastest way to alienate me as a viewer. Especially if that combination is in the service of a cynically misanthropic worldview the filmmaker can feel smug about. So I did not care much for this film which treats killing one rabbit in the head, and other one in the heart as some sort of grand philosophical insight. I get to some extent though why it's has become something of a cult film. If this kind of thing appeals to you, Jodorowsky cannot be accused of half-assing it. I even thought the first 15 minutes were a kind of impressive depiction of  a fully primitive world in which primal animalistic instincts are the only currency. Here only killing, fucking and debasing others matters. The screeching sounds of animals and the creaking sounds of nooses are heard extra loud on the soundtrack.

After those 15 minutes of starkly realized nihilism a kind of ridiculous plot kicks in, in which our mystical cowboy, El Topo, has to find some masters of some sort and kill them for some reason. It's all kind of pulpy - one master is guarded by a man with no legs and a men with no arms -  but Jodorowsky (who also plays the cowboy) treats it as if he is retelling the New Testament. During this quest he goes on all kinds of philosophical asides which are meant to sound as grand and insightful musings of a tortured soul, but mostly are just silly and meaningless. All of this is interspersed with scenes in which El Topo is fighting, and then making up, with the woman accompanying him. She is abused a lot, but keeps supporting him, which leads to one of the least aesthetically pleasant sex scenes I've ever seen, involving heavy close ups of sand in places where you don't want to see heavy close ups of sand. That's another thing you get tired of by the way, the endlessly boring desert landscapes, whose only role seems to be to emphasize the bleakness and ugliness of the world.

And then suddenly, with about an hour in the film still to go, El Topo is killed and we cut to a story in which he is resurrected as a God who, with the help of a human woman, tries to lead her people out of a cave to which they have been banished. Now, this story is much more interesting and entertaining, but it also cemented further my view that Jodorowsky is kind of boringly smug and callous. The town from which the people are banished is one where (black) slaves are being held, bought and sold, and forced to perform all kinds of debasing stuff. The scenes in which they are shown to do that are the breeziest and have the lightest touch in the whole film. It's one of the most trivializing depiction of slavery I've ever seen. The first half of the film, in which pulpy, actually trivial, stuff was treated with pretentious reverence, only makes this more jarring. Depiction is (clearly here) not endorsement, but that's also part of the problem. Ironically detached cynical racism, nihilism and misanthropy is much duller than the real deal, and not necessarily preferable.

125. Gone Girl

Song - Like A Rolling Stone (Bob Dylan)

Movie: Gone Girl (David Fincher, 2014)

I missed, the first time I watched Gone Girl, the fairly important detail that Amy's diary is completely made up (thought it was just the final pages and that Nick really beat her up). I was so giddy by the mid-film reveal - set up as a crime procedural, the film just straight up reveals its mystery barely an hour into the plot - that I couldn't concentrate on all the details. But those details only make the film better, bolder and cheekier. It's essentially a wish-fulfillment fantasy about a woman getting away with lying about being abused, making us root for her in the process. It's a testament to its greatness that it has not become a rallying cry for men's rights activists, incels and other assorted internet trash. 

It is also a testament to its great thorniness that it has been embraced by many feminists. In another world it could have been the first entry in an Amazing Amy superhero franchise in which Amy manipulates mediocre men into matching her greatness. It's also a rare contemporary Hollwyood film that explores the fantasy of escaping an unhappy marriage from a female perspective without patronizingly victimizing her. And, there would be no film without women. Everything that happens in the film is a direct or indirect consequence of a woman's act, including Amy herself getting robbed. (and including the fact that it's based on Gillian Flynn's book, who has also adapted the screenplay) But despite all that, the film has very little actual sympathy for Amy (or for Nick). If there is any female hero, it's detective Boney. I don't know Kim Dickens very much, but she may well give the most unfairly overlooked performance of the decade.

I'd argue that Fincher views both Amy and Nick here in the same way he views the Winklevoss brothers in The Social Network. They are entitled assholes who know how to sound smart to climb the social ladder in New York and who mistake that for sophistication and having high standards. Of course they see the Missourians as a bunch of dumb rubes who will never reach their heights. And of course Fincher absolutely revels in their downfall, directing these scenes with the same cheery cynicism as the rowing boat sequence in The Social Network. It is quite relevant that Amy outsmarts both Nick and the filthy rich Desi, but finds her betters in the 'hicks' renting her a home.  Despite the fact that Fight Club has indeed (and wrongly) become a rallying cry for the aforementioned internet trash, Fincher has always been on the side of the little guy and deeply critical of those with power and (unearned) wealth. Even at his most frustrating - obsessively shooting close-ups of electric appliances - that has always remained true. 

Few recent movies have presented American popular media with such contempt, arguing they exploit sex, murder and crime for no other reason than to sell themselves as righteous gatekeepers of moral values. In the process they also create impossible standards for good behavior, making authentic experiences almost impossible. Nobody in the film, again apart from detective Boney and to a lesser extent Go, is truly interested in morality and justice. All everyone is doing, all the time, is obsess and think about their appearance, or obsess and think about how other people appear. And so the ultimate joke of the film - it is very funny - is that Nick and Amy save their marriage by accepting the fake versions of themselves. All of this makes Gone Girl not just Fincher's best film (by a mile as far as I'm concerned) but perhaps also the best film Paul Verhoeven never made. At least he has never managed anything as subversively perverse as the final 15 minutes of this film. God knows he's tried. 

124. Smells Like Teen Spirit &...

Lyrics

Load up on guns
Bring your friends
It's fun to lose and to pretend
She's overboard, self assured
Oh no I know, a dirty word

Hello, hello, hello, how low [x3]
Hello, hello, hello

With the lights out, it's less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us
A mulatto, an Albino
A mosquito, my libido, yeah

Hey, yay

I'm worse at what I do best
And for this gift, I feel blessed
Our little group has always been
And always will until the end

Hello, hello, hello, how low [x3]
Hello, hello, hello

With the lights out, it's less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us
A mulatto, an Albino
A mosquito, my libido, yeah

Hey, yay

And I forget just why I taste
Oh yeah,

In the final year of elementary school, the teacher allowed us to choose what kind of music we wanted to hear during lunch break. As we were 12 years old, this naturally descended into chaos, and our teacher was forced to create a music roster. Each day someone else was allowed to be responsible for the music. Of course, we cared more about fighting about the music than for the music itself. Fortunately we soon found a new subject of debate: Who listens to the best music, boys or girls? Less fortunately this did not lead to much music diversity. The boys exclusively put on either Carlos Santana or Eminem, while the girls played either Cristina Aguilera or Britney Spears. One dude didn't care about these conventions, but we all thought he was kind of a weird outcast anyway. When it was his turn, we listened to Dutch band Doe Maar and Nirvana. I did not care about Nirvana and still don't. But I have forgotten the names of most off my classmates. I do remember that the Nirvana-fan was called Jeroen.

The Movie: Singles (Cameron Crowe, 1992)

It's a pity Bridget Fonda seems to have stopped acting in 2002. I find her a very sympathetic, and really good actress. She is fantastic here (like in It Could Happen to You) playing a realistically insecure, but generally nice, intelligent girl from Seattle. Yet she can also convincingly play a dim junkie (Jackie Brown) or a poor wife verging on a nervous breakdown(A Simple Plan). Moreover, she does not seem to emulate her more famous family members. I have not seen enough films with Henry and Jane Fonda to confidently make this statement, but I think they tend to present their characters as larger than life. Bridget Fonda is a much more modest actress (which is simply a descriptive statement. I don't think actors must necessarily be modest, and I very much enjoy over the top acting) who never seems to call attention to herself. She acts, especially in Singles, without any hint of self-awareness.

Fonda's 'modesty' is here perhaps emphasized even more because she shares a lot of scenes with Matt Dillon. He plays Cliff Poncier. That kind of name can only belong to a douchey, pretentious dude who thinks he is the next great rock star and that's exactly who Cliff Poncier is. Cliff is the lead singer of a grunge band in Seattle that 'has blown up in Belgium', but has trouble ascending to the top in Seattle. That's mostly Cliff's fault, as he is an awful singer, and even worse lyricist. At least, so the music journalists say. Dillon of course play these kinds of characters in his sleep, but he does not. Yet he has a lot of fun playing Cliff, who of course becomes way more sympathetic as the film progresses and even really starts to care for his sorta girlfriend Janet (Fonda's character).

Fonda and Dillon are unfortunately not the main actors in the film. That are Campbell Scott and Kyra Sedgwick, playing Linda and Steve. They are fairly standard characters going through a fairly standard romance. It works, because while Cameron Crowe may not always be the greatest director (and here he is sometimes rather embarrassingly clunky) he is always one of the most warmhearted. He really does care to make these characters nice and sympathetic. He makes it feel like it would be pleasant to be in their company. Nevertheless this is far from one of his best films, partly because he makes too little use of its setting around the grunge scene in early 90's Seattle. He paints it in too broad strokes. Too often you have the feeling the film could be set in any time or place.

   

    

123. Zij Gelooft in Mij &...

Lyrics

Ze lag te slapen, 'k vroeg haar gisteravond,

(She was sleeping, when I asked her yesterday evening)
Wacht op mij

(To wait for me)
Misschien ben ik vanavond, vroeger vrij

(Tonight I might be home early)
Ze knikte wel van ja, maar zij kent mij

(She did nod, but she knows)
Nu sta ik voor je, ik ben weer blijven hangen in de kroeg

(Now I stand here before you, I've stayed up in the bar again)
Zo'n nacht ze weet t, heb ik nooit genoeg,

(She knows I'll never get enough of a night like this)
Hoe was het,

(How was it)
Dat was alles wat ze vroeg (wat ze vroeg)

(That was all she asked)

Want zij gelooft in mij, zij ziet toekomst in ons allebei

(Because she believes in me, she sees a future in the both of us),
Zij vraagt nooit maak je voor mij eens vrij,

(She never asks free yourself for me)
Want ze weet, dit gaat voorbij,

(Because she knows, this will end)
Ik schrijf mijn eigen lied tot dat iemand mij ontdekt en ziet,

(I write my own song until someone finds me and sees)
Dat een ieder van mijn songs geniet, ze vertrouwd op mij

(That everyone enjoys my songs, she trusts in me)
Ze gelooft in mij

(She believes in me)

Ik zou wachten,

(I'd wait)

Tot dat de tijd dat ieder mij herkent

(For the times when everyone recognizes me),
En dat je trots kan zijn op je eigen vent,

(And that you can be proud of your own guy)
Op straat zullen ze zeggen die Hazes is bekend

(On the streets they'll say that Hazes guy is famous),
Zolang we dromen, van geluk

(As long as we dreem about happiness)
Dat ergens op ons wacht,

(Waitiing for us somewhere)
Dan vergeet je snel weer deze nacht

(You'll forget this night soon then)
Zij vertrouwd op mij, dat is mijn kracht, oh mijn kracht

(She trusts in me, that is my strength, og my strength)

Want zij gelooft in mij, zij ziet toekomst in ons allebei

(Because she believes in me, she sees a future in the both of us),
Zij vraagt nooit maak je voor mij eens vrij,

(She never asks free yourself for me)
Want ze weet, dit gaat voorbij,

(Because she knows, this will end)
Ik schrijf mijn eigen lied tot dat iemand mij ontdekt en ziet,

(I write my own song until someone finds me and sees)
Dat een ieder van mijn songs geniet, ze vertrouwd op mij

(That everyone enjoys my songs, she trusts in me)
Ze gelooft in mij

(She believes in me)

Just last year here in The Netherlands an Andre Hazes biopic was released. I would have probably never watched it if it wasn't for this post. Surprisingly it was quite good, and made me respect Hazes a bit more.

The Movie: Blood, Sweat and Tears (Bloed, Zweet en Tranen) (Diederick Koopal, 2015)

Amsterdam is my favorite city in the Netherlands, especially because it's the most international city in the Netherlands. Its citizens too often complain that the city is being overrun by tourists and that its losing its authenticity. Yet the tourists and foreigners are what makes Amsterdam special. Sure there are old-fashioned streets, hidden bars, and historical buildings, but you can find these in other Dutch cities as well. On the other hand, there is no other Dutch city where you'll find such an international atmosphere where all kinds of diverse backgrounds blend together. That's not necessarily inauthentic by the way. Amsterdam may not be anymore an authentic Dutch city, but it is most certainly an authentic modern global metropolis, characterized by its multiculturalism. I hope, and think, that in the future more and more cities in the Netherlands, and the rest of the world will look like it. I think that's an unambiguously fantastic development and I think that the idea that there is a national identity/culture that should be defended should be squashed as soon as possible. So yeah, I guess I won't become Wilders' friend anytime soon.

I have always seen Amsterdam hero Andre Hazes as the antithesis of these ideas, and as a symbol of small-minded Dutch nationalism. I think his success is in no small part attributable to the same forces that led to the Brexit-referendum, and the rise of Trump and other nationalistic movements. His songs partly work because they evoke past times when life wasn't so complicated (life is hard in many Hazes' songs, but the problems are very directly stated and immediately recognizable), and the singer was an approachable guy from the bar next door you could make politically incorrect jokes and drink beer with. It's not a coincidence that one of the first scenes in Bloed, Zweet en Tranen, is of a 1950's kid stealing a pack of cigars at the market, and getting away with it, but not before getting a stern lecture from a gruff salesman. Moreover Hazes' music is distinctly Dutch. He is basically the king of the Levenslied-subgenre, levenslied meaning song of life. The Levensilied was invented in 1908 by two Dutch folk artists who were looking for a Dutch alternative to the French chanson. The genre lost popularity in the 1980's but was kept alive by Hazes. Thus there is I think a nationalistic aspect to Hazes' popularity. It's not a coincidence that in 2005 Hazes' widow Rachel was chosen as Dutch person of the year in a newspaper poll, after right wing blog GeenStijl urged its voters to vote for either Rachel Hazes, Geert Wilders or model Silvie Meis.

Now, I am aware that I am making a rather classist argument full of stereotypes, that's also deeply unfair to Hazes and his fans. As far as I know he did not have any ultra-nationalistic ideas, and his songs are beloved by many immigrants (which is interesting in itself. When immigrants, especially of Moroccan descent, are prized for how well they have integrated into Dutch society, you often read that they are fans of Hazes) and lefty liberals. Also in the previous post I was writing about how there should be working class artists whose art discusses working class themes. Hazes definitely was such an artist, and his songs were/are genuinely meaningful to a lot of people.

What makes Bloed, Zweet en Tranen so good is that it is completely aware of all these issues surrounding Hazes, and that it interrogates them. It understands full well that Hazes (Martijn Fischer) is a genuine underdog and that he was often viewed through an elitist lens, and that this is something folk music in general suffers from. There is a wonderful scene where Hazes is at the doctor, and the doctor makes it a point to show that he doesn't know anything about Hazes' life. He even makes it seem as if he has no idea who his patient is. But the class issue is most obvious in the rather beautifully realized friendship between Hazes and his producer Tim Griek (Fedja van Huet). It's a rather moving subplot of two opposite people who try to understand and adjust to each other, not simply because they have to work together, but because they genuinely care for each other. The film shows the stereotypes both men harbor about each other, where these stereotypes come from, and how Hazes and Griek work through them. It never takes sides in doing so, and never condescends in doing so. It's both honest about Griek's pretentiousness and Hazes' boorishness, and never excuses either. The contrast between them is immediately clear; When the bespectacled, orderly groomed Griek enters Hazes' bar it's immediately clear this is a foreign world to him. He is there to sign Hazes for his label, but he'd rather be rejected by Hazes. That feeling is mutual; Hazes calls him the professor. Director Koopal also contrasts their working spaces. Hazes' is the bar where there is constant chaos and people. Griek's is a slick, modern, 'elitist' office.

The film also makes good use of a fractured narrative connecting three different time periods show us Hazes. We see him as a child of poor family and abusive father in the 1950's, as an artist at the start of his career in the 1980's, and as a cultural icon at the end of his career (and life) in 2004. The film does not tell these stories chronologically, but constantly moves around to make connections between different events in Hazes' life. In doing so it shows what a tragic figure he was. It's clear that the trauma's of his childhood affected him up until the end of his life, making it hard for him to be as good a husband and father as he'd like to be. More interestingly, it becomes clear how misunderstood he sometimes was by his own fans, and how much trouble he had finding a self-identity.

Hazes' dream was to be a soul singer. As a child he was snuggled into 'Het Concertgebouw', probably the most prestigious concert hall in The Netherlands, to hear Muddy Waters perform (and yeah the film makes it a point to show the diversity of the audience during the Waters' concert, while Hazes' performances are almost exclusively attended by white Dutch people. This stands out even more as Waters' concert was in the 1950's when the Netherlands was much less diverse than in the 1980's and 2000's when we see Hazes' concerts). The film presents this as one of the pivotal events of Hazes' life. Waters is his inspiration and he can't stop talking abut having seen him live. Thus it's not surprising that the highlight of his career comes when he gets to perform in Het Concertgebouw himself. When he sees his father in the audience, who had denounced a long time ago, he performs a song that's very much about his hatred towards his father. It becomes a battle of wills, and the best scene of the film by far. Hazes sings aggressively, anguish, willing his father to leave; his father strains himself, he does not want to lose and keeps sitting, only to eventually give in. At the same time we are constantly aware of the audience who seems completely unaware of the emotionalize of the song. They sing along happily, waving their hands around in the sky in unison, behaving as if it is a celebration of happy, joyous times. These kinds of things happen to Hazes throughout the film; the audience completely missing Hazes' despair visible in his behavior or his lyrics and just having an utterly good time regardless.The film constantly shows that there is a bit of a discord between the content of Hazes' songs and their reception.

And at the end of his life there is also a discord between Hazes' own life and his songs. His songs of life discuss the hardships of life in the city, and are very specific and personal. Yet as the film shows, by 2004 Hazes was a generic rich icon. He lived in an enormous, but utterly unremarkable house in Woerden. Woerden itself  is also visually represented here as a rather anonymous city without any special characteristics. It could be anywhere in the Netherlands.

122. Somebody to Love &...

Lyrics 

Can anybody find me somebody to love

Ooh, each morning I get up I die a little
Can barely stand on my feet
(Take a look at yourself) Take a look in the mirror and cry (and cry)
Lord what you're doing to me (yeah yeah)
I have spent all my years in believing you
But I just can't get no relief, Lord!
Somebody (somebody) ooh somebody (somebody)
Can anybody find me somebody to love?

I work hard (he works hard) every day of my life
I work till I ache in my bones
At the end (at the end of the day)
I take home my hard earned pay all on my own
I get down (down) on my knees (knees)
And I start to pray
Till the tears run down from my eyes
Lord somebody (somebody), ooh somebody
(Please) can anybody find me somebody to love?

Everyday (everyday) I try and I try and I try
But everybody wants to put me down
They say I'm going crazy
They say I got a lot of water in my brain
Ah, got no common sense
I got nobody left to believe in
Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Oh Lord
Ooh somebody, ooh somebody
Can anybody find me somebody to love?
(Can anybody find me someone to love)

Got no feel, I got no rhythm
I just keep losing my beat (you just keep losing and losing)
I'm OK, I'm alright (he's alright, he's alright)
I ain't gonna face no defeat (yeah yeah)
I just gotta get out of this prison cell
One day (someday) I'm gonna be free, Lord!

Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love love love
Find me somebody to love
Find me somebody to love
Somebody somebody somebody somebody
Somebody find me
Somebody find me somebody to love
Can anybody find me somebody to love?
(Find me somebody to love)
Ooh
(Find me somebody to love)
Find me somebody, somebody (find me somebody to love) somebody, somebody to love
Find me, find me, find me, find me, find me
Ooh, somebody to love (Find me somebody to love)
Ooh (find me somebody to love)
Find me, find me, find me somebody to love (find me somebody to love)
Anybody, anywhere, anybody find me somebody to love love love!
Somebody find me, find me love

I read an article recently, talking about how benefit cuts and increasing education costs are making it much harder for people from the working class to pursue artistic careers. This means that working class themes in pop music are disappearing. Now Queen weren't working class. Both Freddie Mercury and Brian May went to rather prestigious schools. Yet I do think they were very influenced by working class themes. This song may be the best example of it. And it is indeed quite rare to hear a song these days dealing so directly with the toil of working. I chose a quite obvious film to link it to. 

The Movie: The Apartment (Billy Wilder, 1960)

"Shut up and deal" is a way better final line than "Nobody's perfect". That's how I feel about the films as well. I am no fan at all of Some Like It Hot, or of Sunset Boulevard. Witness for the Prosecution and The Seven Year Itch are both fine. You see, I am not really a fan of Billy Wilder films. There is no real reason for that, I just have never responded to them, certainly not to Some Like It Hot, which I find completely unfunny. The Apartment though is really very good. During the first half it reminded me a bit of The Wolf of Wall Street, and during its second half it is just a superior sweet romance.

Jack Lemmon's C.C. Baxter is a really interesting character. His neighbor Dr. Dreyfuss (Jack Kruschen) calls him a 'nebbish' and is surprised Baxter has so many girls over in his apartment. Of course it are Baxter's colleagues from work who bring their mistresses to his apartment. Baxter lends them their key, and in return they talk him up to their superiors. Consequently Baxter gets promoted, yet remains a fairly lonely guy, looking for somebody to love.When Dr. Dreyfus chides him telling him to become a responsible 'mensch' and stop womanizing, it's supposed to be an obvious joke about how much the doctor is mistaken and clueless. Yet, part of what makes the film so good, is that the doctor is not completely wrong either. Throughout the film Wilder underlines that there is a meanness behind Baxter's niceness and that he has some sociopathic tendencies. 

I did not compare the film to The Wolf of Wall Street for nothing, but Baxter is no Jordan Belfort. Rather, he is played and written as a follower of the likes of Belfort, and as someone who believes in the hierarchy imposed by the Belforts of the world. Of course The Apartment is much more restrained and much more lighthearted and 'polite' than The Wolf of Wall Street, but it's all there. This is very much a film about entitlement. Look at the way the men talk to/about the women, and how they treat them. Baxter submits to the wishes of his colleagues because he believes they are right to act the way the do. They are after all the men in power, and power allows them to flaunt their confidence and their masculinity. It's interesting to see how Baxter's behavior changes once he gets promoted. At the beginning of the film he treats Fran (Shirley MacLaine) as his equal. After his promotion there is a brilliantly written and performed party scene, set during Christmas, where Baxter in the interactions with Fran makes very clear that he is now above her, that she should be honored to be in his company. 

Eventually of course Baxter learns and becomes a better person. Even then though the film does not shy away from his sometimes oblivious selfishness. When he takes care of Fran they play a game of cards. It's clear that Fran is not interested, and moreover does not know the rules of the game. Yet Baxter doesn't seem to care. He proceeds to basically play against himself, with Fran slowly falling asleep. What helps the film even more is that Fran is herself no angel. She is never glorified, she can't write, she is allowed to be both depressed and independent, a woman who can outjoke Baxter, using sarcasm and irony. MacLaine is fantastic in the role showing both Fran's vulnerability and her sheer chutzpah. I haven't seen enough films from that period to make this statement, but I think in the characterization of Fran The Apartment was far ahead of its time. Fran's character would not be out of place in any modern American indie.