RR by James Benning, which played on Wednesday night at Seattle’s Northwest Film Forum, on one hand is simply a movie that takes 43 static shots of trains and puts them together into a 111 minute movie. On the other hand, it’s a study of landscape and consumption – our “need” to have so many things shipped across the continent. Though mostly, it’s about trains.

I had never been to the Forum before and I was (prejudicially) expecting an artsy, stuffy crowd. I was a little wrong here, though maybe not at first. The crowd numbered roughly 100 and seemed to have a mix of normals (probably here for the trains), stuffy artsy types and filmmakers. There was also one fairly obnoxious guy wearing a safety vest. He asked if this was where the 8 o’clock showing of a train movie was. I figured he was ironically asking. He made another comment about hobby shops.

After a very short introduction by a nice filmfan fellow, RR started. Like any good movie, the credits were short. A simply black screen with the letters: RR and then we began. A shot set up on a bit of grass buffering a street from the tracks. A train heads towards us and we watch, with the camera untouched, unmoving, as the train passes. Before the sound fades, we hear the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

This is our movie. Most shots start before you can see the train. Most end after the train leaves the frame, but before the natural sound is allowed to return. Each episode is separated by a silent black screen lasting three or four seconds.

Our second shot is from Bagdad, California, a place that I’ve been to several times. The train now moves away from us. The third very slowly crosses a bridge in Tennessee. A fish pops its head out of the water towards the end of the train. The forth is at a crossing in Minnesota. A car comes into frame.

By the fifth episode, six or seven people had left.

Even for a railfan, this isn’t a very easy movie to watch. Most railfan movies have a few shots of the same train, and while the edits aren’t really what you’d call quick, they cover it from several angles. Narration often explains where the train in, the percent of the grade, what kind of engine is pulling the load and often what contents make up the consist. Each scene fades to the next and sometimes has goofy swipes and silly transitions. Also, too often really amazingly bad synthesizer music complete with fake drums and guitar provide the always unwanted soundtrack.

While that doesn’t make good art, it makes up your typical railfan documentary. RR is in many ways the opposite of that. Benning’s movie simply watches the trains go by, just like you did when you were a kid, just like I do now. I have no idea what the train is pulling or which engine is being used and thankfully that crappy synth music isn’t stuck in my head.

By the time the 10th episode, a shot of a cement coal tower in West Virginia, rolled around 15 people had left.

What caught my eye was just how varied the shots of trains could be. Each shot began before you could even hear the diesel engines. In some, you couldn’t even see the tracks. The shots were always beautifully composed. Benning, like any good photographer, has an eye for such things. The camera angles were not “weird,” but interesting. The trains themselves varied widely from shot to shot, but his choice of distance from the tracks, angles and seasons (he shot year-round) made each episode very different from the last.

His use of added sound was also interesting. I mentioned the Mormon choir, but he also added a baseball game (Nolan Ryan’s no hitter vs. Toronto in 1991), a Huey helicopter from Vietnam, Gregory Peck reading from Revelations, Karen Carpenter singing a very sad Coke commercial and Eisenhower’s farewell address. All of them are added in post-production, but done so in a way that makes them feel natural, like the trainspotter is somehow listening to them on the radio in his truck. For the most part, it worked.

The Tehachapi Loop shot where the train is moving away from you into a tunnel only to appear crossing over itself was beautiful. I saw a still image of this scene before watching the movie and thought that he could have found a much better angle to shoot from. But I stand very corrected. This shot was brilliant. By the time it ended a few more people had left.

Filming and watching RR can be neatly summed up into one shot. It is a desert scene in Amboy, California (again, a place I’ve visited several times). The shot starts with three empty tracks. Before long, a train carrying cars speeds past and away from us. We watch as it passes. Just as the rear of the train enters the shot, we see a black and orange BNSF engine appear and speed towards us on the tracks farthest from the camera. It is a tanker train carrying oil. This seems beautifully choreographed and timed perfectly. But, of course, it’s not. It’s just luck. This is a very rare shot. Benning explains:

The one that’s in the film where they actually passed is in Amboy, California. That was a very hot day, and I didn’t want to sit and wait for a train, so I drove down the line until I met a train, and then I drove like 90 miles an hour back down Route 66 to Amboy, and I set up. But the train I was waiting for that I was racing to catch got caught by a red light. All of a sudden a train started coming from another side. So I thought, okay, maybe I should start shooting that train, or should I wait for the first one, and then I got real anxious not knowing what to do so I just turned the camera on. And that train turned out to be the one hauling automobiles with these Auto-Max cars that are made especially for SUVs—the huge white cars—and it went flying by, and just as it’s ending, the other one showed up.

The perfect alignment of two trains, one carrying cars away from us, the other carrying oil towards us is not only fun to watch, but say something about our culture – shipping cars east and oil west. This shot was intruded upon by a van carrying a railroad worker. The van drives towards and then past us. A minute later, unseen, a worker gets out and passes between the train and the camera. For a second we (and probably Benning) figured that this amazing shot would be ruined by this guy telling us to get out of there, we’re trespassing. But he just walks on buy and waits for the train to leave so he can cross the tracks.

That, in a neat little nutshell is our film. Trains coming and going carrying things that we really don’t need across a gorgeous landscape. Like the railroad employee, we have to stop and wait for these trains to go by. While we’re waiting there’s not much else to do but watch.

By the end of this shot, 22 people had left the theater. That’s nearly a quarter.

A movie such as RR, just a succession of 43 shots of trains, must end somehow. Our last shot is in Palm Springs. Large white wind turbines share the background with a brown desert mountain. The foreground is dotted with old, thrown away tires. A train enters slowly from the right and grinds even slower through the frame until it comes to a complete halt. The camera holds us there for another very long minute, leaving us to wait for something, even the sound of the train’s brakes releasing, that never comes.

The film ends with a black screen and the initials JB. That is all.

There was a discussion after the movie moderated by the same gentleman that introduced it. The folks who stayed were mostly filmmakers. A railfan or two stayed and then obnoxious guy in the safety vest was there too. He wasn’t being ironic as I had previously thought, he was just a little crazy. Nice guy though. He knew a lot about trains and railfanning. I was very pleasantly surprised.

The discussion bordered on “too artsy” for me, but thankfully stayed enough in the practical area. I even added a few comments (mostly about the shooting and locations and about the added sounds – I had done my research before watching). Of course, a few of the comments offered some lofty interpretations that seemed to want to see more than was there – and when those comments became the norm, we left with a great impression of the film and a pretty good impression of the discussion before it headed too far south.

For me, the most important thing about this movie, or about any work of art, is how it makes you feel. The best art makes you want to create art yourself. James Benning’s RR makes me want to hop on my Vespa with a good camera and film trains. There are some things I’d do differently, of course. I’m no James Benning. But the experience would be amazing.

When art makes you want to experience what is on the screen or canvas, etc., that is good art (maybe the only art). RR isn’t something to just look at. It isn’t even something to look at think about. It’s a catalyst. If only I had a year of freedom and a camera! I already have the love of train and a mental list of locations where I’d shoot.

Benning does not release his movies on DVD. RR will never be able to be seen outside of a theater. If I have one critique, it is that. Not that this should be mass distributed all over the globe or even to railfans reading Trains Magazine. But it should be seen. I count myself as extremely fortunate to have seen it. And I wish you could too.

Maybe, in a few years, that’s where I’ll come in.

For more reading on this, there’s a great interview with him here. Also, a location list, written by Benning, is here. That is where I got the pictures for this post.

While skimming Netflix for decent Railroad documentaries (hint: there aren’t many), I came across a four volume series called Running a Steam Locomotive. Sounds like a lot of fun, no? I’ve always wanted to learn how to do this.

I know that you really can’t learn to run a steam engine from a DVD, but I figured it would give me a good basis. Turns out that I was right.

The first thing that I noticed about this DVD is that it’s a rerelease. Running a Steam Locomotive was originally filmed in 1980. The guy who looks like a hipster was a dead giveaway. This blond fellow with big glasses, mustache and questionable hat seems like he was taken right off of Capitol Hill, here in Seattle. But no, this guy wasn’t being ironic, he was just being who he was.

The program starts off oddly. I figured that since disc one was the basics, it would start with an overview of the engine. Nope, it starts off with how to change out a broken flue pipe inside the boiler. You start out inside the engine itself. It’s sort of like showing up on the first day and the boss doesn’t have time to teach you how to blow the whistle or start the engine because there’s a flue pipe that needs to be replaced using some special tools.

It’s an odd way to start, but kind of fitting and I found it interesting. You’re in the boiler with the engineer, Charles Daigh, and while he’s fixing the piece, he’s explaining why it needs to be replaced and covers a lot of how a steam engine works. Tom Scott, Jr., the fireman proto-hipster and engineer take turns covering different areas of the locomotive. It’s all a bit scattershot, but all useful.

Nearly every aspect of running a locomotive is covered: from starting up the fire (start it with wood and some kero) to warming up the cylinders to starting up and coupling the cars. Along the way, you learn about basic wheel alignment (what 2-6-2 means, for example), the suspension, electrical system, valves, regulators, lubrication and what the whistle signals mean (two long bursts means that the train is about to move – two longs, one short and another long means that the train is coming up to a crossing).

The railroad where this was filmed must have hosted a “How to Run a Steam Locomotive” class. At times, the engineer seems to be talking to other people rather than the camera. He also uses the tender (coal car behind the engine) as a chalk board. Pretty nifty.

One of the things that I really appreciate about this is that there’s no amazingly bad music accompanying it. Many, many train documentaries are filled from start to finish with insipid, canned Casio keyboard music. Generally, the soundtracks are embarrassingly horrifying and relentless. Thankfully, this chose to have almost no music in it. The music that existed was done by a jug band (over the opening and closing credits). This is probably because it was filmed in 1980. Somewhere around 1984, everyone and the brother got a Casio keyboard and decided that they were going to make music for crappy documentaries. Sadly, as far as train documentaries go, this is the rule rather than the exception.

This documentary was filmed at the Monticello & Sangamon Valley Railroad in Illinois. Now, it’s called the Monticello Railway Museum. The locomotive used in the film is their No. 1, a 1930 0-4-0 built by Alco. It ran until 1988. Monticello’s current roster features no working steam locomotives, but a few fine older diesels.

Anyway, if you’re interesting in this sort of thing, I guess this will interest you. It’s fairly technical and maybe a little dry, but very well done (by 1980’s standards – even by today’s standards) and very informative.

The DVDs in the rest of the set seem to be from different places. I’m not sure if it’s the same film company that did the original, but I’ll soon find out.

After watching everything an engineer on a steam locomotive has to do, I’m kind of glad that I’m not one. It all seems like a huge pain. The fireman, even though he’s got to shovel the coal and keep the fire going, has the better of the two jobs. I think I’d rather be a fireman.

Last night I watched Pink Floyd The Wall for the first time in years. I honestly don’t remember the last time I really sat down with it. Probably high school. I remember showing it to my cousin, Josh, who really didn’t get it. I’m sure I didn’t really get it either, but it was weird and I liked it because I liked weird things (same year as my Eraserhead kick).

That’s what’s neat about being young and a little off. When you’re that age and you like weird movies or strange music, people think you’re deep and intelligent. But really, you’re just a weird little kid who likes weird stuff. That was me.

So when I started to watch The Wall last night, I wasn’t sure what to expect. The music holds up, of course, but what about the weirdness? Some things don’t age well. Take Chris Elliot, for example. When I was a kid, I loved his show, Get a Life, but seeing it later on, I couldn’t even make it halfway through an episode.

As it turns out, The Wall was much more powerful seeing it as an adult than as a kid. Maybe over the years I’ve been desensitized, but I didn’t find it particularly weird. This time around, I saw the “weirdness” as a medium for telling a very sad story of loss and alienation.

My childhood, like Pink’s, was mostly a good one. But I had no idea what the future held for me. In the movie, Pink was a little weird, just like me. He felt alienated and alone, just like I did (just like every teenager does). Would those voices in our heads continue after high school, into adult life? Would I end up building a wall around me with the bricks of my own oddities, fears and ignorance? I had no idea then. Maybe I’d end up crazy, just like Pink.

Of course, I really didn’t end up crazy and I never built that wall around me. But I could have. Somewhere, I made the decision not to. I think we all come to that crossroads at some point in our lives. We could become isolationists, locking ourselves behind our walls, or become somewhat normal people.

It was nice to see The Wall transforming, for me, from a weird movie I watched as a kid to a powerful and meaningful experience. One of the scenes that really effected me was right after Pink shaved off his eyebrows and opened the bathroom door. Another was at the end, when Pink yells “STOP!” Both scenes really shook me. Others did as well, enough so that the whole movie became something more to me.

I’m not going to give you some big analysis or even tell you the story. See it if you want, but if you do, really try to watch it. It’s not a difficult movie to get, really. Yes, it relies on some major sensory overload to get its point across. This is a complaint of many (including Roger Waters). For some, that makes it hard to become a part of the movie. I can definitely understand that. But for me, it worked. Maybe it’ll work for you too.

Oddly, some things that I liked as a kid, didn’t work for me now. The animation, for example, seemed out of place. Of course, the animation is one of the most famous and important parts of the whole Wall concept. As part of the concept, it works. With the album and the live show, it worked just as it was supposed to. But in the movie, I’m not sure that it did.

The best time to see Pink Floyd The Wall is probably around 9th grade. You won’t get it and that won’t matter. It’s just weird and that’s all you need. Apparently, the best time to watch it again is in your early 30s.

These couple few weeks that Smartz is in Boston, I decided to finally watch the Horatio Hornblower series. This A&E series is actually made up of eight feature-length movies all about the exploits of a fellow named Horatio Hornblower. It takes place in the late 1700s through the early 1800s to the start of the war with Napoleon.

Through this, Hornblower is the center figure and we follow him from the moment he joins the Royal Navy as a Midshipman (sort of a middle-management officer). As the series progresses, he is promoted through the ranks to the rank of Commander. This is often both because of and in spite of his careless bravery.

Ioan Gruffudd plays Horatio, the humble, yet headstrong officer who knows his duty, loves his ship and his men and is loyal to the last. He is most often surrounded by bumbling officers who out-rank him and who he naturally (and humbly) shows up.

It’s difficult to really make the Hornblower series seem as good as it is. All eight movies are very well made (though the first is distractingly shot on video) using full size ships and exotic locations. The stories are fiction, but based around historical events and portrayed with what appears to be a high level of historical accuracy.

It took me years to finally convince myself to watch these. And honesty, I’m glad I did and I’m sorry I sailed through them so quickly. They films are based upon the C.S. Forester novels and I’m sure I’ll be reading them soon enough.

I apologize for this being a fairly crappy review. But seriously, you’ll probably dig this and thank me for suggesting it. Netflix has only the last two films, so try your library (where I found mine), it’s very worth it.

You’ve probably not heard of it, but I bet you’ll remember the trailers for Quarantine, the movie about an apartment building that was sealed off after firefighters discovered some bad mojo. A TV reporter followed them in and recorded it all. The end of the trailer had the reporter lying on the floor and was them pulled backwards by a mysterious something. Remember?

Well, I’ve never seen it. I wanted to when it was in theaters, but never got around to it. However, just last week I read a review for the [REC]. Quarantine was just a remake. The review was glowing, so I decided to skip Quarantine and go for [REC].

The whole film is seen through the eyes of the TV news crew’s camera. This might remind you of Blair Witch Project. Though I’m a fan of that movie, this one didn’t really remind me of it. I’m not sure if the news crew camera idea is new, but it works. Throughout the flick, you never seen the camera man, you hear him once in a while, but that’s it. However, because you see the entire movie through his lens, he becomes the second most important character.

TV reporter, Angela Vidal, is in front of the camera most of the time. The producers had a stroke of brilliance here and hired a girl who wasn’t an actress, but an actual TV reporter. The movie opens as she is interviewing fire fighters at their station. In real life, this was a real fire station and these were real fire fighters. According to the producers, everyone thought that they were just making a documentary about fire fighters.

After about ten minutes, we arrive at the apartment building with two fire fighters. There it’s reported that an elderly woman is trapped in her apartment. Their job is to rescue her. Two police officers and a handful of neighbors are there to greet them.

And this is where things quickly go south. See, the old lady is sick. As one of the cops approaches, she violently screams, thrashes about and bites him, ripping out a chunk of his neck. The old lady is subdued, a firefighter stays with her as the rest, including the camera, take the cop downstairs.

The movie was shot entirely on location in this apartment building. Not sets were built. This makes the building more than just a set, but an integral character. Many horror movies attempt this, few can actually pull it off.

The main staircase that winds its way up four floors is the type that has an open center. You can see from the first floor all the way up to the third floor. After the cop is brought downstairs to be treated and the excitement dies down just a touch, we are reintroduced to the fireman left alone with the old lady. He is hurled down the open center of the winding staircase, hitting the ground with a loud, bloody thud.

Part of the fun of this scene is that none of the actors were told that this would happen. Their reactions of surprise and horror are real.

This is how [REC] was filmed, chronologically and without telling the actors what was going on until right before shooting. Because of the nature of the medium, seeing it all through the eyes of a TV news camera, the scenes play out with few edits or cuts. One scene goes on for 20 whole minutes without a cut. Many scenes play on for five or ten minutes.

This, combined with the very quick domino effect of things going horribly wrong gives us a nerve-wracking claustrophobic roller coaster. Imagine 28 Days Later happening in a tiny apartment building from which you can’t escape because the government has sealed it off.

But unlike 28 Days Later, there’s no grainy, over-exposed quick shots backed by really loud distorted guitars. In fact, it’s really the opposite of that. It’s shot very plainly, like a documentary. There is no music. There is nothing standing between you and the footage. This adds to the tension and by the end of this pretty short feature (it clocks in at 75 minutes), I was mentally drained. It doesn’t really let up.

Overall, pretty amazing movie. Please see it.

There also seems to be a sequel on its way. From the trailer, it looks like [REC]² will play like Aliens did – same basic premise, but with a lot of guns. See it here.

Review coming tomorrow. Wow, fun.

Last night we watched a documentary called Paving the Way: The National Park-to-Park Highway. It’s about the founding and maiden voyage on a circuitous route that connected 12 western National Parks in 1920.

The movie itself was alright, though, like most PBS-produced documentaries, it tried hard to be like Ken Burns with the softly-read diaries, softly-lit interviews, softly-played music… but it just couldn’t pull it off.

The information it lobbed at us was good, putting auto trails, the newly popularized car and westward expansion in its proper place, but the event – a first journey along the road – wasn’t all that interesting. And this is coming from me, a guy who loves pretty much anything to do with old roads.

There was, however, a story in there that they completely missed. At least one woman made the journey. Her name was Stella Leviston. The documentary quickly brushes over her, “explaining” that she was a seasoned road tripper having driven a car through 44 states… by herself! She was 72 years old when she made this run in 1920.

And then the story wandered elsewhere. But wait! This should have been your story! Here is your subject! Do this! But no. The story of Stella Levison was only alluded to, never to be mentioned again.

The thing is, there doesn’t seem to be all that much written about her. This shouldn’t have been a deterrent, since there’s not all that much written about the National Park-to-Park Highway, either.

Stella seemed to be fairly well off, having donated quite a bit of money to the newly-formed National Parks. I’ve not really been able to find out much about her. There is a short page on her, here.

And that’s about it (in my hour or so looking). Obviously, there’s a lot out there on her. She was a photographer, so there are at least photos and probably notes. She more than likely kept a diary. More exists. There is a great story here, if only someone would uncover it. A 70 year old woman who traveled through 44 states before 1920 pretty much demands to be reckoned with.

Hopefully someday.