This blog has been in hibernation for most of the pandemic and now it’s time to finally rouse it from its virtual slumber. And, what better way to do so than by highlighting a few of the ways I passed the time during the pandemic. Like many other people, I read a lot of books, watched a lot of movies, listened to a lot of music, and did just about anything else I could to distract myself from the terrifying uncertainty created by the collision of a global health crisis and a rancorous election year. Let us never again repeat that particular convergence of events, shall we?
But, more than just numbing myself with all types of media and entertainment, I used the pandemic to get cozy once again with some old favorites, and find solace again in art and artists that I love. That was the best way for me to cope with a world that seemed increasingly close to turning into the Upside Down. For the most part it worked, and now I present the results of all the field research I did from home these past four years.
Paul Newman: one of my favorite actors, and his performance in this gets my vote as the best of his early career. But also, Hud became my movie obsession during the pandemic. There was a moment or two where I was convinced that it could explain everything about the social-political-cultural moment we, as a society, found ourselves in during the previous presidential administration. No doubt I went a little crazy over this, but what else was I going to do while sitting at home contemplating orange skies? Also, I don’t think I was completely off base. I have a lot to say about this movie, and I may yet say it all in a future post. For now, it’s worth mentioning that I’m not the only person who was struck by this movie in a similar fashion during the pandemic. Also worth saying: Hud is a master class in film direction (thank you, Martin Ritt) that is anchored by a trio of outstanding performances from Newman, Patricia Neal, and Melvyn Douglas. If you watch it only for those reasons, you will not be disappointed.
Reference Books
In the days before the internet, we had hard copy reference books, and I was a big fan of them. During the pandemic, I started rebuilding my collection with the help of the onl ine secondhand market (precisely what the internet was made for, in my opinion). My favorites were always movie and music reference books, and I cannot tell you how thrilling it was to find replacement copies of two favorite sources of Oscar history, Len Lyons’ guide to essential jazz albums (as of 1980), and John Kobal’s survey of the greatest movies ever made (as of 1988). Best of all was tracking down a new copy of Première magazine’s Guide to Movies on Video, featuring their terrific end-of-the-decade list of the best movies of the 1980s. I spent many hours poring over these again, and it was divine.
The pandemic was also the perfect excuse to double down on my love of hard copy media, specifically Criterion Blu-rays. I admittedly went a little nuts here: Do the Right Thing; sex, lies, and videotape; A Room With a View; Time Bandits; Local Hero; Matewan; The Adventures of Baron Munchausen – I bought them all, and many others. Totally in line with this blog’s mission, though, so I called it research. Also, the content, design, and packaging of all the Criterion editions is gorgeous and peerless. I love them.
Hard Copy Media
Speaking of Blu-rays, why stop at just Criterion? If I was going to stay at home indefinitely with limited movements in the outside world, then I was also going to go all in on the revival of my home video library. Kino Lorber, Warner Archives, and Amazon (of course) all helped me out here, and, again, I went a little overboard: The Verdict, Prizzi’s Honor, Time After Time, Victory, and Fandango, just to name a few. (Special thanks to my mother-in-law for the new copy of From Here to Eternity, and to my wife for the new copy of Richard Pryor Live on the Sunset Strip, both of which were perfectly timed gifts during the pandemic.)
Books About Strictly Back Catalgoue (SBC) Topics
I didn’t just sit around watching movies, though. There was a lot of pandemic reading, much of it relevant to SBC. I jumped head first into such enthralling volumes as Isaac Butler’s history of Method acting, Mark Harris’ excellent biography of Mike Nichols, Joe Hagan’s wild biography of Jann Wenner and the history of Rolling Stone magazine, Robin D.G. Kelley’s comprehensive biography of Thelonious Monk, and Julie Salomon’s classic behind-the-scenes movie exposé, The Devil’s Candy. These were just some of the highlights of an extended shelter-in-place spent doing a deep dive on all things SBC.
Streaming Platforms
I know: you’re about to remind me that streaming is too new to be truly considered back catalogue. To which I refer you to Francis Ford Coppola’s recent comments about streaming at this year’s Cannes Film Festival. Which is all just my way of saying that there were a lot of classic TV shows running in my living room thanks to the magic of the 21st century’s dominant rental and exhibition format. My wife and I watched all of M*A*S*H*, Taxi, St. Elsewhere, The Golden Girls, Murder, She Wrote, and The Odd Couple, along with many others – and we enjoyed the hell out of every single one of them. The streamers easily justify their own existence by giving us the ability to watch most classic TV shows on demand like this.
Speaking of streaming, the entire De La Soul catalogue finally hit the streaming platforms after a notoriously difficult and well-documented journey to get there. I’ve written about them before, back when it was uncertain that their discography would ever enter the modern digital world, and I’m glad that is now a moot point. We were well out of the dangerous part of the pandemic by the time this happened, but it was still a cause for celebration at my house the day these albums appeared on Spotify. 3 Feet High and Rising, De La Soul is Dead, and Buhloone Mindstate all went into heavy rotation for a couple of weeks, and they have remained staple listening over here ever since. Such a great gift to humanity as we all began to slowly emerge from our pandemic bunkers.
Roger Ebert’s Collections of Bad Reviews
Did you know that, among Ebert’s prodigious bibliography, he published three volumes worth of reviews for movies he panned? And, boy, are they delicious. Nobody wrote a good takedown like he did. There is sarcasm galore here. Highlights include Ebert’s frequent invocation of the Gene Siskel test (“Is this movie more interesting than a documentary of the same actors having lunch?”), and his perfect takedown of Deuce Bigelow: European Gigolo. These volumes got my wife and I through many a trying evening during the pandemic (they are so good, I read them aloud to her). Funny, insightful, and mercifully free of pomposity and self-importance, Ebert reads like the friendly-but-opinionated regular at your local bar. He is a top shelf cinephile who speaks both for and to the people.
Live Concerts
By the middle of 2022, I was vaccinated enough (and feeling comfortable enough) to try my hand at attending live concerts again, and I was glad that I did. It was absolutely fantastic to see live music again, and I hope to never take that for granted again. During the first week of June that year, I saw both Tears for Fears (pictured above) and Midnight Oil within days of each other. The following year, my wife and I saw the San Francisco Symphony twice within three months: the first time on Valentine’s Day, featuring guest conductor John Williams (yes, that John Williams) and violin virtuoso Anne-Sophie Mutter; the second time featuring jazz legend Branford Marsalis. These shows were all fantastic, and great reminders for me that there is nothing else like seeing world class artists do their thing live in person. Being in the same room with that kind of talent and skill generates its own kind of special energy, and I have always found that inspiring.
Live Theater
There was also a return to attending live theater, which happened early in 2022 when my wife decided to jump into our local theater scene and start auditioning for shows. Since then, she has done everything from Shakespeare to Noel Coward to Agatha Christie to Frank Loesser, and I have seen every single one (spoiler alert: she is a rockstar). In addition to my wife’s emergence as a Bay Area theater superstar, I’ve also been able to see things, like A.C.T.’s production of A Strange Loop, the Broadway production of Back to the Future (pictured above), and Eddie Izzard’s Off-Broadway turn as Hamlet. Again, it was wonderful to be back in a dark room with total strangers having a shared communal experience, watching talented people cast their magic in person while doing so to serve the larger purpose of entertaining and enlightening the audience to the point of catharsis. I cannot tell you how glad I am that I stayed alive long enough to do that again.
Strictly Back Catalogue 