The greatest thing that happened in 2022 regarding my movie watching was that the great Capri reopened in Fondren, here in Jackson, Mississippi. Great reclining seats, a rumbly soundsystem, the ability to order dinner and popcorn from your seat, and luminous blue neon make it a treasure.1
New Orleans, Louisiana, Polaroid 600 (2014)
This year I experienced three great movie-going moments at the Capri. The first was just marveling at what a big show can do: I was watching The Batman with my old friend Roy when there was a grappling hook shot out across the screen. You could actually feel steel smack into the wall, roughly above and to the right over our heads, like it had really spiraled out of the screen. It was a surprising and visceral and invisible thrill.
The next was when my Pop journeyed down from Tennessee. We went to see Top Gun: Maverick, which is just as spectacular as advertised. When we walked out of the Capri, the sun was setting, and a golden glow was layered across the bustling core of Fondren, as people were heading to dinner at Walker’s, and taking their kids bowling at Highball. It was just like in the movies.
Jackson, Mississippi, Polaroid Land Camera with Fuji FP-100c film (2014)
The last was one that just let the movies, and where I live, provide an actual escape. One of the great pines or oaks in my neighborhood had crashed into the power lines—an unfortunately regular occurrence—knocking out the electricity. It was hot, it was dark, I was hungry, but Bullet Train was starting in 7 minutes at the Capri. I made the showing, had a blast, and ate dinner at my seat; by the time the movie was over, the power was back on.
Of the 87 (!) movies I watched last year, here are the ones that made the biggest dent in my heart and life.
M (1931). Intense, indelible, haunting. I suppose it’s fair to say this is a crime movie, but one far stranger and scarier than most. I cannot forget the intense and incredible scenes of the bloodthirsty “criminal jury”—who have in their clutches the twitchy, alien, almost feral Peter Lorre.
The Naked City (1948). Simply one of the best detective movies I’ve ever seen. NYC is strange as Mars in this post-war stunner.
Licorice Pizza (2021). I was delirious to watch this new work by Paul Thomas Anderson, and the author (and instant film creator!) Megan Abbott made it happen. Maybe some folks didn’t like this rambling journey through the teen years, but to me the ramble is the point. Alana Haim is incredible. I went back and saw it in a theater.
Bergman Island (2021). At first I thought the film was inert, irked by the self-interest of Tim Roth’s character. But I loved the luscious, melancholic love story at its core. It was so very real, the passion, attraction, how much it hurts to be left behind. A few twists later I felt it was quite a success—but where’s the third act?
Tupelo, Mississippi, Polaroid Land Camera with Fuji FP-100c film (2015)
Out of Sight (1998). How’s about we get the two most beautiful people in the world and let them smoulder and spark for a couple of hours while doing cool things, how does that sound?
Hustlers (2019). OMG, SEE ABOVE, BUT WHILE PLAYING USHER
The Godfather (1972). — What do you say about Hamilton’s Mythology? This is simply where it all comes from. As titanic as they are, as much myth themselves, this family is real and you know them now. From Roger Ebert’s review of the 1997-re-release:
[T]he other roles are so successfully filled that a strange thing happened as I watched this restored 1997 version: Familiar as I am with Robert Duvall, when he first appeared on the screen I found myself thinking, “There’s Tom Hagen.”
Kosciusko, Mississippi, Polaroid Land Camera with Fuji FP-100c film (2015)
Help! (1965). Kinetic joy preserved, with life-altering songs.
The Queen of Basketball (2021). A short film that filled me with wonder, pride, and awe—starring and highlighting the life of the great Mississippian Lusia Harris. Twenty-two minutes which will renew and thrill you and leave you asking—as I did, sitting in the dark — “why haven’t I heard of her before?!”
Mad Max: Fury Road (2015). [falls off couch, yelling, astonished]
Wings of Desire (1987). Impossible for me to distill to language. Beautiful, tender, loving, aching, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Then Solveig Dommartin goes to a bar and watched Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds and my jaw drops.
Josie and the Pussycats (2001). The happily subversive rock movie that’s unfortunately impossible to find on streaming—holler if you want to borrow the DVD I got off eBay!
Everything Everywhere All At Once (2022). Simply an astonishing joy. Like watching all of human history, and all one could be, with punching. Cried helplessly at “the rocks.” More heroic and spectacular than any superhero movie I saw all year.
Les Olympiades (Paris 13th District) (2021). The only note I wrote down in my phone was the red heart emoji. But that’s it exactly.
Memphis, Tennessee, Polaroid 600 (2015)
Top Gun: Maverick (2022). This is what a movie can be sometimes—huge, breathtaking, sad, sweet, funny, hopeful. There is a joy to it that I find missing some modern creation, a genuine and overt attempt to make people happy. And for this Right Stuff fan, the opening scene alone was worth the literal price of admission.
The Worst Person in the World (2021). I found this piece of art devastating and incredible. The nuance of our lived lives, in all its sometimes messy complexity. Beats out Licorice Pizza’s Bowie spin for the best needle drop of the year when Julie strides across the room of the party she’s crashed to Cobra Man’s “Bad Feeling.” You can feel the “uh-oh.”
On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969). A confirmed Bond fan, last year I chose to watch one “highlight” from each of the lead heroes. This lead me through Goldfinger, The Spy Who Loved Me, The Living Daylights, and Goldeneye. This film—OHMSS to its supporters—is of course the only Lazenby to choose from, but I don’t believe I’d ever seen it all the way through, certainly not in hi-def. It was fantastic, with an unforgettable ending—with a song filled with such bittersweetness that it perfectly complements the finale, Louis Armstrong’s “We Have All the Time in the World.”
Two-Lane Blacktop (1971). As beautiful as a portrayal of the back-roads of the U.S. and the glories of Detroit steel as it is the unknowable interiors of the American male. One of my Pop’s favorites, and we drove the Tail of the Dragon this year to visit the gorgeous Cheoah Dam so I could recreate a brief, but stunning, shot from the movie.
Outside Robbinsville, North Carolina, Polaroid SX-70 (2022)
Lost Highway (1997). I watched this restored and updated print at the wonderful Egyptian Theatre in Seattle. It was like watching a whole new movie, strange and gorgeous and startling. Speaking of needle drops! Lou Reed’s trembling, excited reading of “This Magic Moment” when one of cinema’s greatest femme fatales (spoiler alert!), Patricia Arquette as Alice, strolls onscreen, like walks right at you seemingly, into your life. We might very well go insane for love. And before the movie they screened the video of Bowie’s “Afraid of Americans” (with Trent Reznor stalking him!) beforehand, and it was the most 90s thing ever. Perfect.
Before Sunrise (1995). Crowded in a listening booth, Kath Bloom urging you to “Come Here,” good lord.
Before Sunset (2004). [Previously unknown emotion at seeing these two people at a different stage in their life, gasping at the last scene]
Elvis (2022). For trying to get Memphis right, down to the ads on the wall on Beale Street, for clearly loving Elvis, but mostly, for the last 15 minutes—and the stunning, heartbreaking slip back into reality.
That’s the Way It Is (1970). For showing that Vegas wasn’t an easy cash-in, but the triumphant result of nearly 20 years of hard work. And for the glimpse of a glittering, silvery Cary Grant congratulating the King after his show.
Cat People (1982). The ne plus ultra of trash, metaphorically pouring 80s gasoline on a fire started in 1942. Yes, the original is better in all ways, but this one is more.
That’s plenty for Sunday morning, but honorable mentions to old friends Notting Hill and When Harry Met Sally, plus newer pal Someone Great, all of which earned a rewatch. I hoped you saw a movie last year that made you feel something—thrilled, sad, hurt, excited, proud.
Today I’m hoping to wade into the waters of Tár and maybe Aftersun today, wish me luck!
“THAT COOL BLUE GLOW” is this week’s installment of GORJUS, a newsletter devoted to art and life in the South on instant film. If you like it, consider sending it to a pal. Just like anything, some weeks are better than others. I’m gorjusjxn on Instagram, and you can see more Polaroids at McCartyPolaroids.
It’s also just around a mile from my house, and if the temperatures here weren’t split between face melting and after the asteroid hit, I would walk, and well maybe I just made up a New Year’s resolution to walk to the movies.