I’ve been negligent in updating this space on new work, especially podcast appearances from the last year. It’s been quite a busy year on that front.
To rectify this, I’ve made a new page on my site dedicated to archiving my podcast and other media appearances, with links to each episode. Check it out here.
I'm very excited to share that a new essay of mine, The Vocation of the Cinephile, is now available in the Pentecost issue of Dappled Things. As the title hints, it is an exploration of the 'vocation' of the cinephile as a truly contemplative and creative way of loving cinema.
I owe a debt of gratitude to editor Katy Carl for the invitation to collaborate on this piece, as well as for her patient feedback and encouragement during its development. Thank you, Katy and team!
This essay is one of two pieces on cinema in this issue. I'm eagerly awaiting my print copy to read Bradley D. Williams's "Meaning in Western Film Art: The Path to Postmodernity," as well as new poetry and prose by some incredible writers.
If this sounds like your jam, you have two options for reading this:
If you are able, I would recommend buying a print copy, as that remains the most practical way to support a small publication that is doing so much to promote not only Catholic literary art, but important discussions around art in general. But if that isn’t possible, please do share the essay widely. It is my fervent hope that it will contribute something useful to broader conversations about the meaning of cinephilia, as well as the meaning and use of cinema by Christians.
It’s been a busy, busy spring - so much so that I keep forgetting to post updates. These last few months I’ve had the privilege of continuing to contribute to Criteria: The Catholic Film Podcast. I’m very grateful to hosts Thomas Mirus and James Majewski for continuing to have me back to offer film-related thoughts - sometimes slow-cooked, sometimes half-baked.
Here’s a roundup of recent episodes I participated in…
In January, we covered Andrei Tarkovsky’s The Sacrifice (1986). I’ve long held this to be Tarkovsky ‘worst’ major film, which is to say it is slightly less than his others, but revisiting it this year proved revelatory. It’s an incredible, uncompromising final word from a truly unique soul.
In February, we discussed Carl Theodor Dreyer’s Ordet (1955). A masterful film, and yet one which did not connect with me as fully on this viewing as it did over a decade ago.
I flailed a bit in this episode while trying to explain why. A few months later, I still have trouble articulating my response. It has something to do with the script’s orientation to the presence and action of grace in our fallen world. What I think I perceived, at least, was the sense that in this particular filmic world, grace is only known by the in-breaking of the rare, alien, miraculous event. But, if you look at the world with sacramental eyes - seeing the goodness of created things sing forth God’s presence and, in particular cases, becoming the matter for sacraments themselves - then Dreyer’s vision (which is likely just being faithful to its source material, a play by the Lutheran minister Kaj Munk) seems quite cold and austere, even while it affirms the reality of the Christian God. Thus do I find this formally mesmerizing and uplifting work to be a bit bittersweet.
All that being the case, it was still a profound pleasure to revisit Ordet and discuss it with Thomas and James. I hope you’ll enjoy the conversation.
Finally, in April, we discussed Roberto Rossellini’s Rome, Open City (1945). Revisiting this was a treat, as it has been quite a while since I did my first neorealism run. The simplicity of Rossellini in each of his particular epochs (Neorealism, the Bergman / faith films, the 60s/70s history films) is always refreshing, and Rome, Open City is no exception: crisp, humane, heroic, and sincere. It was a pleasure to contemplate the film with Rome-based historian Elizabeth Lev.
What’s next? Stay tuned for Criteria’s epic-length Vatican Film List wrap episode, which will be arriving very soon. We left no stone unturned in concluding the three year journey of watching the films of the Vatican Film List.
Until then, happy watching and listening. Thanks for reading.
This year I had the honour of participating in several discussions hosted by Criteria: The Catholic Film Podcast. While continuing with the show’s main project - discussing every film on the 1995 Vatican Film List - we also found time to discuss some sidebar topics… like a certain Middle-Earth-set show of recent infamy.
All of the following episodes can be found on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and other podcast apps. For the sake of brevity, I will be linking only to the Youtube versions here. Let’s dive in.
In February, we celebrated Leo McCarey’s screwball comedy masterpiece The Awful Truth (1937).
In March, we discussed Federico Fellini’s timeless and influential La Strada (1954) with poet and philosopher James Matthew Wilson.
In June we discussed Carl Theodor Dreyer’s monumental The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928).
In August, I joined the Catholic Culture Podcast to discuss the role of music and movies as they relate to the human need for contemplation.
In September, we conducted an early post-mortem on Amazon Prime’s first season of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (2022).
In October, the month of St. Francis of Assisi, we covered two films about the life of the great 13th c. reformer and mystic: Roberto Rossellini’s The Flowers of St. Francis (1950) and Liliana Cavani’s Francesco (1989).
Finally, we closed the year with Ermanno Olmi’s transcendent neo-realist historical masterwork The Tree of Wooden Clogs (1978), joined by film scholar Maria Elena de las Carreras.
Thanks for watching. If you’ve enjoyed our efforts thus far, here’s how you can help us out:
Leave a rating and review on your podcast app of preference - it helps make the show more visible to new listeners.
Donate to support future podcasts. We’ll be wrapping up the Vatican Film List project in 2023 and starting some exciting new ventures, so now is the perfect time to jump onboard with a financial gift, if you feel so inclined. We certainly appreciate any and all support.
Tell your friends about the show - whether that’s by social media, email, parish coffee hour, or telegram, we leave up to you.
See you in 2023!
With 2022 making its final bow, I was pleased to make one last contribution for the year to Criteria: The Catholic Film Podcast, this time joining in an enthusiastic discussion of Ermanno Olmi’s The Tree of Wooden Clogs (1978) with film scholar Maria Elena de las Carreras.
A contemplative portrait of four farming families surviving the challenges of late 19th century Italy, The Tree of Wooden Clogs is a magnificent film in every respect. I hope you’ll enjoy our efforts to uncover its many merits, as well as the relatively unsung significance of Ermanno Olmi’s career.
Find the episode at its website, on Youtube, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and other sundry places.
The Flowers of St. Francis (1950)
On a recent trip to New York City I had the great pleasure of recording two in-person appearances with Criteria: The Catholic Film Podcast. As October is the month of St. Francis of Assisi (whose feast is celebrated on Oct. 4), our discussions focused on the two films about St. Francis which reside on the 1995 Vatican Film List.
First up we have Roberto Rossellini’s The Flowers of St. Francis (1950). Famous for its use of non-actors (St. Francis and his companions are all played by real Franciscan friars) and its simple, direct, neorealism-derived approach to adapting episodes from the saint’s life, the film remains a threefold landmark of Italian cinema, auteurist cinema, and ‘saint cinema.’
Second, we have Francesco (1989) by Liliana Cavani. In every way that Rossellini’s film remains a perennial favourite of cinephiles and faithful alike, here we have its exact opposite - a film which is so obscure and forgotten that the only thing anyone knows about it is that it is somehow inexplicably on the 1995 list. While it is indeed a frequently clunky and discomfiting work anchored by a deeply (and historically-inaccurate) melancholic performance by Mickey Rourke as St. Francis, it is not without its own strange charms.
Listen or download on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Youtube, or wherever you get your podcasts.
I’m very excited to share that Simon Garez's short film Gentle Hum of Spring, which I had the honour of co-producing, is having its world premiere tonight at FIN Atlantic International Film Festival in Halifax. Look for it in the Shorts: Canada and The World 2 program.
Gentle Hum of Spring is a portrait of a young Saskatchewan beekeeper struggling to maintain his colonies as the spring thaw approaches. Inspired by Simon's upbringing in a beekeeping family, this is a deeply personal and meditative glimpse at the travails and tranquility of the apiarist's life.
This one has been in the works for over two years, with production originally set for March 2020. Oops. We postponed by a year and filmed over a chilly few days in March 2021 in Nipawin, SK.
This was a really special film to help on and I can't wait to see it out there in the wild. Congrats and thanks, Simon and team.
Gentle Hum of Spring (2022)
Written & directed by: Simon Garez
Produced by: Simon Garez + Nathan Douglas
Cinematography & colour: Devan Scott
Editor: Cameron Mackenzie
Sound design & music composition: Blaze Baerwald
Voice recording engineer: Karl Renaud
Re-recording mix: Daryl Pierce
Starring: Simon Garez
Finally, a big thank you to the Canada Council for the Arts, SK Arts, the Saskatchewan Filmpool, and the Conseil Culturel Fransaskois for their support.
I recently had the privilege of participating in a long form discussion on the Catholic Culture Podcast about movies, music, and contemplation. This episode is a response to a recent Pints With Aquinas video by the great Fr. Gregory Pine, O.P., about some of the pitfalls which modern media consumption presents to those trying to live the spiritual life.
From my side as a filmmaker, I particularly wanted to focus on questions of film form - visually and rhythmically - which are often taken for granted or ignored in Catholic discussions of moving images and media in general. Thomas, being the musician, brought a mini-masterclass on questions of interacting with music.
It's a long one - over two hours - which allowed us some room to go deep into some of these questions. Maybe throw us on and tackle a chore you've been putting off? In any case, we hope you enjoy it and that this would further the conversation on art and contemplation.
Check it out on Youtube, Apple, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts. And thanks, as always, to host Thomas Mirus for engaging this topic and inviting me along.