Brianna does an AMA
That's Weird is six months old - old enough to know you're not a piece of shit anymore
Amazingly, That’s Weird has been around for six months now! I’m genuinely thrilled at how far it’s come already. I was very uncertain of the response I’d get when I kicked things off back in February, or how slowly/quickly it would grow, especially in the wake of my Great Twitter Banning. Suffice it to say, I believe she’s chugging along quite steadily. I’m very happy and overwhelmingly grateful that you all have decided to stick with me and continue to read my writing on things like medieval cum shots and Steve Buscemi’s sex appeal, and there will be much more of that to come.
My newsletters have been sort of light content-wise recently due to a sluggishness in the wake of my return from a long vacation and my workload in other places, but I plan on picking things back up with some deep dive essays on various topics that I’m super excited about in the weeks following this AMA. And a reminder that you can always feel free to reach out to me [briannaszigler@gmail.com] and offer input on what weird or overlooked or underrated thing you’d be interested in seeing me write about next! Anyway, I tend to ramble even in my writing, but I hope this AMA is at all enlightening and/or entertaining for people. Some questions have been lightly modified for grammar/clarity/American spelling. Here’s to the next six months of weird shit.
Why haven’t you watched Stand By Me yet? It’s like 85 minutes and will stay with you forever.
Ok, for one, you have no idea if I’ve seen Stand by Me or not yet since I’ve only had a Letterboxd since 2017… but I actually have never seen it, so… you’re right. I ironically had a discussion with a friend recently about how I have a handful of popular cinema blindspots because they’re movies that have been so present within pop culture for my entire life that my brain just sort of glazes past them at this point. We were discussing this in relation to Good Will Hunting, but Stand by Me is another good example, along with, like, Saving Private Ryan, the Terminator movies, Dead Poets Society, When Harry Met Sally, Titanic. This really only happens with pop Western blockbuster cinema. I just end up putting other movies ahead of them in terms of viewing importance because I’m aware of how easily accessible they are and that I’ll get to them eventually. I also just know what happens in them to the point where it feels like I’ve already watched them, so that definitely deters me. But I’ll get there!
Do you have any current/past film critics you hold as a benchmark or reference point?
Yes and no. I’m no longer looking to other critic’s work when it comes to informing my style or the way I approach the process overall. I don’t like to be influenced in terms of style or structure, because I am confident in my voice as a writer and in my methodology and I’m very happy with it, and it’s easy for me to start picking up stylistic tics from other writers and unintentionally infusing their voice into my own, which I don’t want. All that to say, I’m very aware of how green I still am and that there are areas of the critical process I fall short on. I will often read criticism to see how other critics go about writing on editing and camerawork. I’m a real theme, story, character, analysis gal — due to my training in fiction writing — but it didn’t take long before I got to a point where I realized I could no longer skirt around this entire crucial aspect of filmmaking in my criticism just because it intimidated me, which was partly influenced by my negative experience with film school. It makes me a bad critic. So, I also started adjusting the way I watch films in order to make up for this. I pay more attention to what the camera is doing, I research things I don’t quite understand, and I read writing by other writers because I still have a lot to learn from them. But that’s all part of the process of becoming a better and more informed critical voice.
In general, there was never any critic I held as a “benchmark.” When I started getting interested in film as a teenager, I always read the reviews in the Philadelphia Inquirer, Rolling Stone, and random reviews here and there online, but I never followed any one critic as my guiding light. In college, I was an avid reader of David Ehrlich, and later on became a big fan of Sean T. Collins. Nowadays, I admire film writing from Richard Brody, Nick Pinkerton, Adam Nayman, Willow Catelyn Maclay, Priscilla Page, Molly Haskell, Bilge Ebiri, Gretchen Felker-Martin, Beatrice Loayza, Fran Hoepfner, Phuong Le, Kim Morgan, and many more.
Do you have parameters around seeing a movie drunk/high for the first time?
My only parameter is that I do avoid seeing a movie under the influence of weed or alcohol if I’m going to be reviewing it, otherwise I don’t really care. I don’t even watch many movies drunk since I don’t drink frequently, but I personally feel that seeing a movie high tends to only enhance my experience, and it also positively colors the way I view the film if I rewatch it sober. I don’t really find that seeing a movie high and thinking one way and then rewatching it sober takes away from that first transcendental (or traumatizing) watch, even if I no longer think it’s quite as powerful with subsequent viewings. Watching a movie high, for me, adds this whole other perspective to the experience that heightens the way I think about the film and which I find really beautiful.
You mentioned in the summer/Space Jam newsletter than you had a really different reaction to Space Jam on rewatch from what you remembered from your experience as a child. How often do you revisit movies in general, or have big reactive differences between rewatches? Are there any other notable pivots, especially in the other direction, where you were neutral-negative at first, but still compelled to revisit and you changed your mind?
Oh yeah, I revisit movies quite frequently. Movies I love, of course; movies I was lukewarm on that I will randomly get the urge to try again; and movies I initially totally admonished that I want to give a second chance. Biggest thing that comes to mind are the Alien prequels. Thought Prometheus was mediocre on a first watch and thought Alien: Covenant was dreadful, but something in my brain switched off last year and I felt compelled to revisit them and ended up warmer towards what they tried to expand upon in the Alien franchise. Then on a third watch just earlier this year I basically loved them. Don’t really know what changed, I was just suddenly super into the backstory behind the Xenomorphs and admired the messy ideas that the story was going for in regards to religion/creation. A lot of that is stripped away in Covenant but it’s still fun and gross and the stuff with the dual Fassbender’s is *so* good.
In general, though, the stuff I always end up feeling the most differently about are the movies I was obsessed with in high school/early college, to the point where I am sometimes hesitant to even revisit them in order to keep that memory alive. I talked about it in my Watchmen piece, but when I was younger I reacted to movies a lot differently than I do now; more emotionally in a very specific way, and more frequently (obviously not a unique thing, a lot of people told me they related to that). But it’s not always like that, you know, like a negative thing. Like, when I was in college, I was totally batshit insane about this movie called Filth starring James McAvoy and I rewatched it a couple years ago and still liked it, but more because I was really influenced by those first feelings on it. It wasn’t the same movie to me anymore, and not in a good way. But then a movie like American Psycho, which was really the first film I fell in love with that paved the way for my serious interest in film, I revisited a few months ago and I found a new, different appreciation for it. Always great when that happens.
How do your find your experience in college and film school impacts the writing you do now, both for "That's Weird" and for various online publications?
I honed my style as an essay-writer and critical analyzer in college, for sure. College is when I really began to understand that I relished doing research papers more-so than I did writing fiction or other types of creative writing, which is what I’d been focused on up until then. I really thought that I was going to graduate and become a short story writer or a screenwriter, but each research paper became this little opportunity for me to do this thing I started to realize I loved — writing analytical interpretation of art, and even non-art stuff too — while weaving in my training as a creative writer, something I continue to do now in every piece I write regardless of the kind of style an outlet wants from me.
Research papers were like these boundary-pushing games to see how creatively stylistic I could make them without receiving ire from my professors, but I never actually did. My approach to essay-writing seemed pretty welcomed, college is pretty chill anyway (at least, for me it was), so research papers became essential in crafting my voice for my future professional article-writing. The final essay I wrote for my last class of undergrad, a writing theory class, was a genre analysis of body horror where my professor suggested I try to get it published, and that whole writing process further informed my understanding of how to look even more critically at art and also gave me the lightbulb moment I hadn’t yet had of “oh, I literally can write essays as a career” (sort of, obviously).
Overall, the most useful classes I took for my current approach to writing were my writing classes, especially my high school creative writing class. My film program was helpful in terms of learning about the hands-on mechanics of filmmaking, storytelling and script structure, some light film history and theory — we read Bordwell, Clover, Mulvey, etc — obviously necessary for any film writer. But my film program was, in my opinion, particularly dogshit. I went to a state school, and I don’t know what film school is like for other people at other schools, but my program only offered a total of two history/theory classes and three screenwriting classes. Again, I don’t know what other film programs are like elsewhere, but I got the sense that the program at my school was not intended to foster areas of film interest that were less likely to get you employment, which makes sense I guess, whatever, but it greatly hindered my experience and I look back on it with truly nothing but contempt. Everything in my writing today I owe to my fantastic creative writing and fiction teachers both from high school and undergrad, and also my one screenwriting professor, the only professor I had in my film program who came across as genuinely passionate about his field. Shout out to Boaz Dvir.
Is there a single piece of your own writing that you’re most proud of?
This changes constantly with the more pieces I write, but right now I would say it’s definitely the Under the Silver Lake essay that I wrote for this newsletter. I’d been wanting to go long on Under the Silver Lake since I first watched it like three years ago, but I have difficulty writing about movies that I really, really love. I’ve seen other writers talk about this before, that it’s often easier to write about things you have some emotional distance from, and this sentiment definitely rings true for me. So, I had to think about approaching the essay in a way that wasn’t just mindlessly gushing about it, but was nonetheless passionate. It was difficult to write but the result was really rewarding. And the film’s steady incline towards cult status made it increasingly clear to me that there was an audience who was eager to see reappraisal of it, or see a take on the film that afforded it more than what it was initially given, which is what I tried really hard to do. That’s what I ultimately want to use this newsletter for: writing about things that aren’t written about, that editors don’t think are timely or have enough interest, but that I’m positive have an audience who is eager to read it. I don’t think I have, like, a fool-proof handle on such a thing, of course, but I was right about UTSL and I was right about Steve Buscemi. I have an approximate knowledge of most things.
However, extremely close runner-up is this Uncut Gems love letter I wrote for Film School Rejects last year, which is a real landmark for me in terms of the fact that it’s a piece of mine that’s over a year old that I can still read and not feel like I want to die while reading it. That’s a big reason why my favorite piece is constantly changing: my writing is evolving the more I write, and it’s not long before I can look back on my work and not really recognize it, or think “Why did no one stop me?”
Finally caught Barb & Star last night, and it's been a while since I've seen a film that gave so few fucks about pleasing anyone other than the people making the picture. One of those gloriously odd experiences where you find yourself muttering “who the hell is this even for?” every five minutes or so. Are you a fan of films where the creators truly take the gloves off and just let it fly, and if so, what are some of your favs?
This is very ironic because I did not like Barb & Star ahaha. But I understand why people do and I respect that, and I respect that it exists and I obviously feel more films like it should exist. And yeah, for sure, though I wouldn’t say that these creators are truly "taking the gloves off and just letting it fly.” That feels like a narrow way of looking at it, and reminds me of when people say “wow, what were they smoking when they made this?!” It’s more a case of like, this is their specific style/artistic vision and they were in a situation where they had more creative license. That’s also where people might use the term “self-indulgent” which to me isn’t a deterrent for a film but an indicator that the artists had control, and for better or for worse isn’t that what a film should be? Shouldn’t films feel like an artist, or a collective of real human beings, made them?
I don’t really have an answer to your question, and I don’t align with your perspective on Barb & Star either in the framing of your question (no offense, of course), which also makes it difficult to answer. There are plenty of movies — new and old — where it’s clear that the filmmakers were focused on making the art that they want to make. Just not all goofy comedies, you know? And, for me, Barb & Star isn’t a good example of a weird or subversive film, but I’m happy that the filmmakers were given the ability to make it. I think more along lines of someone like Jim Hosking, the director of The Greasy Strangler and An Evening with Beverly Luff Linn — those are two very weird, very disagreeable films. He makes films as if he is trying to agitate people, and that guy isn’t even “letting it fly” or anything he’s just an artist making smaller, independent art with a very distinct way he wants that art to be. It goes without saying that filmmakers should be making the movies that they want to make and not the movies audiences would want them to make. That, to me, is the mark of true art, whether I like that end product or not.
Could you talk about how you got started in film criticism? It's something I've been interested in but just have no idea on how to approach. Also could you answer: what's heavier, a kilogram of steel or of feathers?
So, there isn’t really one way to approach it, I think almost any film journalist would agree with me. What “worked” for me isn’t necessarily going to work for you, and “worked” is doing a lot of heavy lifting here. I can’t stress enough that I’m still very new to this, still figuring things out and very much not where I’d like to be — though I know I’ve accomplished quite a bit and I’m very proud of myself and how far I’ve come in the past three years yadda yadda. But I don’t think I took the best route in getting here, as film journalism wasn’t on my mind while I was in college. Since there was no support system I was aware of in my film program for students to pursue criticism (again, I didn’t even fathom film criticism/journalism beyond blogging while I was in film school), I went about getting into film writing completely independently.
Shortly after I graduated and realized that this whole thing was what I wanted to do, I just sat around that summer and did tons of research on the freelancing world and how to pitch and how to get started on it on my own. This was before I’d made connections on Twitter, so I never even asked anyone for advice, beyond my cousin who pointed me in the direction of some writer she knew who didn’t have any grasp on the current journalism landscape and was married the entire time that she was a journalist, so she never had to actually worry about making a career out of it and supporting herself. Anyway, you might say that that interaction wasn’t helpful at all. But I digress.
Once I felt like I was ready to start poking around with pitches, I accrued a list of outlets I’d like to write for (that weren’t outlandish for someone first starting out), began integrating myself in the online community and networking with other writers, and I worked on constantly honing my outline for pitching just based off of How-To articles online. I would then work towards getting the bylines that I goaled myself to get and then I would continue to look for where to go next, pushing myself further. I should disclose that I have always been very confident in my ability as a writer. Writing has always come naturally to me and words just make sense to my brain. So pitching was never scary, and I’ve never been afraid of rejection. I don’t have any advice in that particular area, so all I can say is that it’s extremely important to find a pitching formula that works for you, and then stick to that formula. That’s at least what has worked for me.
I’m also very good at social media after spending over half my life fucking around online, and I cannot stress enough how integral Twitter has been to my networking and the opportunities that I’ve been afforded. But that’s not something that’s going to work for everyone, which I always mention to the people who have asked me for advice when it comes to growing an audience as a writer. Certain things are just innate, there’s no advice you can give. Some stuff is gonna work for some people that isn’t gonna work for others. You have to find your niche, but more importantly you have to keep pitching.
To answer your second question: *extremely Scottish voice* they’re both a kilogram.
Is there a film you’d want to see remade today? And who would ideally be cast?
I honestly rarely think about movies in these terms, especially since I’ve become incredibly cynical about rehashed IP. Maybe if I thought really hard about it I could come up with something but it’s just never on my mind. I thought about it more when I was younger and watched a lot of horror movies, because there were older, shitty horror movies that I thought deserved an update. But it’s not something I’m actively engaged with wanting anymore.
What are your favorite recently discovered films?
My *most* favorite recent discoveries have been The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford and Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro’s The City of Lost Children. Latter is a funny, beautiful, creepy, surreal French film; extremely my shit. But I watched a ton of new-to-me films in the past month or so that I loved: A Ghost Story, Elephant, Total Recall, 20,000 Days on Earth, The Green Knight, Buffalo ‘66, The Village, Broadcast News, Body Heat, Evolution (2015), Cronos, Body Double, La Piscine, Undine, Thelma and Louise, The Long Goodbye, Blowout, Images, Collective, and all the Jackass movies. It’s been a very good summer for Brianna’s movie-watching.
You’re obviously into a lot of dark, idiosyncratic cinema which is one of the top reasons I follow your work. What/who was the film/tv show/director that was your gateway into it all, and would you say it’s your favorite genre of film?’
As I mentioned above, American Psycho was the film that basically opened the door for me as a teenager in terms of my passion for film, but my adolescent taste was incredibly “film bro-ish.” My die hard favorite director for years was Tarantino, I was obsessed with Fight Club and A Clockwork Orange. Not that I think there’s anything wrong with that; I’m very against the “film bro” label even being a thing. Still, I think American Psycho being my first favorite film, and then getting really into horror in high school, paved the way for me being into more fucked up stuff. Then getting into Twin Peaks and David Lynch’s work in college was ultimately what made me appreciate more “obscure” or surreal art, or stuff that’s off the beaten path. I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite genre, but only because it’s not a genre; any kind of film can be dark or idiosyncratic just depending on the filmmakers who are tackling the material. Obviously, I’m into all sorts of films from any end of the spectrum, but I definitely do have a preference for the strange and unusual because [Lydia Deetz voice] I myself am strange and unusual.
What is your favorite David Cronenberg film, and what is your favorite performance in one of his films?
At this point, definitely Eastern Promises. And I’m a little biased right now since the most recent stuff I watched of his was his Viggo films and I wrote a whole piece on them, so probably a tie between Viggo in Promises and Viggo in A History of Violence, but this is closely followed by Jeremy Irons in Dead Ringers (which I might have said is my favorite Cronenberg film if I hadn’t watched Promises shortly after it).
What's your favorite Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! moment?
Oh Jesus, what a question. This is really cruel! I definitely don’t have one favorite moment, because so much of it makes me laugh. But in particular I love all the stuff with Tairy Greene, I love “Prices,” “Free House,” “The Innernette,” “Cinco Phone,” “Food Tube,” “D-Pants,” “The Universe,” “Child Clown Outlet,” “Spaget,” all of Will Forte’s bits where he’s like engaged in a how-to with children and then goes off about his abusive father (those were the first Tim & Eric sketches I ever watched, fun fact!). “Spaghetti Again” from the recent 10-year anniversary special is also genius. Definitely a ton more, I haven’t rewatched the whole series beginning to end in a couple years.
How do you differentiate something that you love because it’s bad, from something that you hate because it’s bad? When does bad media become good-bad media?
I’m leaning away from thinking in terms of that framing of “so bad it’s good,” or that I love something because it’s bad, because all the “bad” movies I love are not bad to me. I don’t like movies that I think are inherently bad, like if I enjoy something then it’s because I think it’s good and fulfilling something crucial to me, and what’s the point in trying to hide behind a “guilty pleasure” denotation just to save face? Movie 43 is a comedy that makes me laugh so I think it’s a good movie. Wounds is a horror movie that tons of people despise but it works for me so I think it’s a good movie. Nowadays, I will think a movie is bad because of the reason it exists — basically all Marvel films, even the few I like — or because it’s incompetently-executed, or tone-deaf, or poorly-written, etc., but even then it’s hard because all of that is still subjective anyway. But usually if a movie doesn’t necessarily work for me, if I respect the intent and the craft that’s there and I’m aware that it’s just not congealing into something I can personally cling onto, then I don’t say it’s bad. Bad is just so all-encompassing so I use it sparingly now. I like to use the words “dumb,” “stupid,” “idiotic,” and “fucking annoying.” However, Marvel movies are bad because they are inherently evil just by virtue of their existence.
In my opinion, there’s no such thing as bad media that then becomes good-bad media as with, say, a reappraisal. Something like Freddy Got Fingered. That movie was never bad, that’s what reappraisal means — people realizing they were initially dumb dodo brains. That movie wasn’t for me, but it has clearly always been a solidly subversive comedy film that more people are now wising up to or are eager to be open about being like “this was always good,” you know? It’s just a case of changing culture/perspective, not the quality of the film itself.
Hi Brianna!! Would just love to hear any and all opinions you have on the movie Stardust.
Wait a few weeks and you may just hear them. Muahaha.
My question is “Are you mad at me?”
Never, I love you Matt. <3*
Brianna does an AMA
Would love to see more AMAs from you. My tastes line up pretty close to yours so I'm always eager to see what you think about different movies and film culture in general. You're one of my favorite critics. Keep up the great work.
Great stuff, Brianna, thanks for sharing.