Best Film Ever

“Every night I cut out my heart. But in the morning it was full again.” Join Ian for our 356th episode, alongside Jim making his BFE debut, as we cross deserts, hospitals and ruined relationships for Anthony Minghella’s The English Patient (1996) — a Best Picture winner that was once unavoidable, won nine Oscars, and somehow feels much less present in the culture today than you might expect. Liam isn’t with us this week — he heard “three-hour romantic epic” and suddenly remembered an urgent appointment. Megs had every intention of joining us, but became trapped in a deeply complicated wartime love triangle and asked not to be disturbed. Kev vanished into the desert and, frankly, this feels like a film where that could become somebody else’s problem for several years. This week we discuss: Is The English Patient a film you have to grow into? Ian found it far more accessible in his 40s than he did in his adolescence — so what changes? The pacing is either exquisite or strangely neglectful. Some relationships are allowed to develop beautifully, while others — particularly Madox — suddenly become incredibly important before we feel the film has earned it. Kristin Scott Thomas was the only Katharine that made sense. Whatever 20th Century Fox may have wanted, why does she feel so completely right for the role? And who else almost ended up in the desert? We run through some of the actors linked with the film and ask what those alternate versions might have looked like. Why has this Best Picture winner faded from view? Nine Oscars, enormous prestige and one of the defining films of the 1990s — so why doesn’t The English Patient seem to occupy the same cultural space as other winners from the era? Is its reputation unfairly tied to prestige cinema itself? Has the film become shorthand for a particular kind of worthy, serious Oscar movie rather than being remembered for what it actually does well? Do not trust an IMDb trivia page. We uncover why one seemingly useful production fact should probably have come with a much larger warning label. The real story behind the production gets considerably messier. We reveal one of the people who helped make the film possible — someone whose role in getting The English Patient made is genuinely significant, even if what we know about them now makes that much harder to celebrate. Real life is more complicated than fiction. Can somebody be important to the creation of great art while also being somebody we wish had never been part of the story? Ralph Fiennes and Juliette Binoche. Two very different emotional centres — and two performances operating on very different wavelengths. The desert versus the monastery. Which half of the movie actually carries more emotional weight? Romance, obsession or selfishness? How much sympathy are we supposed to have for Almásy and Katharine? Does the film earn its scale? Sweeping locations, wartime tragedy and doomed love are all there — but does the intimacy underneath justify the grandeur? And finally, whether The English Patient is the Best Film Ever — an overstuffed prestige epic whose reputation has faded, or a film that becomes richer once you’re old enough to meet it on its own terms. Become a Patron of this podcast and support the BFE at https://www.patreon.com/BFE We are very thankful to the following Patreon backers for their generous support: Juleen from It Goes Down In The PM Hermes Auslander James DeGuzman Synthia Shai Bergerfroind Paul Komoroski Duane Smith (Duane Smith!) Andy Dickson Aashrey Chris Pedersen Randal Silva Nate The Great Rev Bruce Richard Ryan Kuketz Dirk Diggler Stew from the Stew World Order podcast NorfolkDomus Timmy Tim Tim Buy some BFE merch at https://my-store-b4e4d4.creator-spring.com/. Massive thanks to Lex Van Den Berghe for the use of Mistake by Luckydog. Catch more from Lex's new band, The Maids of Honor, at https://soundcloud.com/themaidsofhonor Also, massive thanks to Moonlight Social for our age game theme song. You can catch more from them at https://www.moonlightsocialmusic.com/

“Put that thing back where it came from or so help me!” Join Ian, Liam & Megs for our 355th episode as we clock in at Monsters, Incorporated, scream for a living and discover that the real nightmare might simply be trying to get one human child back to bed in Pete Docter’s Monsters, Inc. (2001). Kev isn’t with us this week — he accidentally opened the wrong door and has been trapped in a bedroom somewhere in Scandinavia ever since. This week we discuss: The beauty of the screenplay’s sequencing. So much of Monsters, Inc. works because information, character and payoff arrive at exactly the right moment. That third act. The door vault suddenly turns the movie into something much bigger, faster and more inventive — and gives Pixar one of its best action set-pieces. But Randall’s ending raises questions. If Mike and Sulley can get back from exile, why does being thrown through a door suddenly feel like a permanent sentence for Randall? Bob Peterson before Bob Peterson became Bob Peterson. The film’s story supervisor would also become one of Pixar’s most recognisable voices — including Roz here — so how much of the Pixar family was already forming behind the scenes? Randy Newman and Oscar luck. After years of nominations, Monsters, Inc. finally gave Newman the win — but was this really the song that should have done it? Did Monsters, Inc. get enough credit at the time? It arrived in the middle of Pixar’s early golden run, surrounded by films that became instant cultural landmarks. Has that made this one easier to overlook? And does it still get enough credit now? Is Monsters, Inc. quietly one of Pixar’s best-written films without always being talked about that way? Is it perceived as a “boys’ film”? Monsters, factories, buddy comedy, slapstick — does the packaging make some audiences underestimate how broad and emotionally sophisticated the film actually is? Mike and Sulley. How much does the movie depend on the chemistry between Billy Crystal and John Goodman? Boo. Adorable, terrifying to the monsters, and somehow the centre of the entire film without ever becoming irritating. Randall. Is he one of Pixar’s better villains because he feels less like a grand evil mastermind and more like an ambitious bastard who has decided the rules no longer apply to him? Waternoose. How effectively does the movie hide its real threat in plain sight? The world-building. Screams as energy, doors as portals, workplace bureaucracy — how much does Monsters, Inc. manage to establish without ever slowing down to explain itself? And finally, whether Monsters, Inc. is the Best Film Ever — a hugely entertaining children’s film, one of Pixar’s most elegant screenplays, or a movie that deserves to sit much higher in the studio’s all-time hierarchy. Become a Patron of this podcast and support the BFE at https://www.patreon.com/BFE We are very thankful to the following Patreon backers for their generous support: Juleen from It Goes Down In The PM Hermes Auslander James DeGuzman Synthia Shai Bergerfroind Paul Komoroski Duane Smith (Duane Smith!) Andy Dickson Aashrey Chris Pedersen Randal Silva Nate The Great Rev Bruce Richard Ryan Kuketz Dirk Diggler Stew from the Stew World Order podcast NorfolkDomus Timmy Tim Tim Buy some BFE merch at https://my-store-b4e4d4.creator-spring.com/. Massive thanks to Lex Van Den Berghe for the use of Mistake by Luckydog. Catch more from Lex's new band, The Maids of Honor, at https://soundcloud.com/themaidsofhonor Also, massive thanks to Moonlight Social for our age game theme song. You can catch more from them at https://www.moonlightsocialmusic.com/

“Why are you wearing that stupid man suit?” Join Ian & Liam for our 354th episode as we follow a six-foot rabbit through suburban America, try to work out what the hell is actually happening and discover that sometimes “cult classic” is another way of saying “you may need to do some homework afterwards” for Richard Kelly’s Donnie Darko (2001). Megs isn’t with us this week — Frank told her something terrible was going to happen in 28 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes and 12 seconds, and she decided to make other plans. Kev was due to join us, but unfortunately a jet engine fell through his bedroom ceiling. This week we discuss: The women of Donnie Darko absolutely steal the film. Mary McDonnell, Jena Malone, Maggie Gyllenhaal and Beth Grant give the movie an enormous amount of its personality. Except, perhaps, Drew Barrymore. Her performance itself is fairly uneventful — but her importance to Donnie Darko ever getting made cannot be understated. Beth Grant: the new Tracy Reiner? Another actor who seems to keep turning up in very good films, doing great supporting work without necessarily getting the attention. Kitty Farmer. An absolutely dreadful human being and one of the most entertaining characters in the movie. Does the theatrical cut actually make any sense? We watched the version audiences originally saw — and were left with rather a lot of questions. How exactly does Donnie restore the timeline? The ending clearly expects us to understand what Donnie has accomplished. Did the film actually give us enough information to get there? What is the significance of Cherita Chen? The movie keeps drawing our attention towards her — but what exactly are we supposed to take from it? Why does Seth hate Donnie so much? And more importantly, what the hell is he doing at Grandma Death’s house at exactly the moment the film needs him there? The Trans Am as deus ex machina. Donnie literally identifies it as one — but does acknowledging a convenient plot device somehow make it less convenient? Frank. Terrifying rabbit, warning, guide and possibly the thing holding the entire movie together. How much are we actually supposed to understand about him? Jake Gyllenhaal as Donnie. Troubled teenager, unreliable protagonist, prophet, victim — or some mixture of all four? The Director’s Cut enters the conversation later. Once Richard Kelly starts filling in the blanks, do the answers actually improve the movie? And which film would we rather have watched? The theatrical cut that leaves us confused but intrigued, or the Director’s Cut that explains considerably more of what Kelly intended? Gary Jules’ “Mad World.” Inspired or sacrilege? One of the defining musical moments of the film — but what happens when Tears for Fears gets stripped down into something completely different? The soundtrack generally. How much of Donnie Darko’s reputation is inseparable from the music surrounding it? Patrick Swayze as Jim Cunningham. Inspired casting, particularly once the movie starts revealing exactly who this apparently perfect motivational speaker really is. Fear and love. Is the film simply mocking simplistic self-help culture, or making a broader argument about the danger of reducing complicated people to easy answers? Is Donnie Darko actually profound? Or does it create such an effective atmosphere that we start supplying some of that profundity ourselves? And finally, whether Donnie Darko is the Best Film Ever — a brilliant cult classic, an ambitious mess, or a movie whose biggest strength may be that nobody entirely agrees on what they just watched. Become a Patron of this podcast and support the BFE at https://www.patreon.com/BFE

“There are days that define your story beyond your life.” Join Ian & Liam as we stare nervously at twelve enormous objects hovering above the Earth, attempt to communicate using increasingly complicated circles and ask whether knowing what comes next would actually change anything in Denis Villeneuve’s Arrival (2016). Megs isn’t with us this week — she heard somebody say “non-linear perception of time” and decided she suddenly had somewhere else to be. Kev was absolutely going to join us, but unfortunately we’ve already seen the future and apparently he doesn’t. We’re also joined for the Endgame by the one, the only, Duane Smith — Duane Smith! — before a very special phone-in guest makes an appearance later in the show. This week we discuss: Is Arrival actually an alien movie or a film about grief? Both stories are sitting right beside each other — but which one did we actually prefer? What does Denis Villeneuve bring to the table? Scale, atmosphere, restraint and an almost unnerving confidence in letting an audience catch up. Is Amy Adams the female Matt Damon? Ian presents his case. Liam is forced to hear it. Louise Banks as the centre of the film. With so much enormous stuff happening around her, why does Arrival remain such an intimate movie? The language of the Heptapods. Is learning to communicate the film’s most interesting idea — or merely the route towards something much bigger? That narrative reveal. Once we understand what the film has actually been showing us, does everything before it become richer? And does knowing the trick change subsequent viewings? Is Arrival improved by knowing where it’s going, or does something inevitably disappear once the mystery is gone? Why did Duane Smith — Duane Smith! — choose Arrival? We finally get the story behind his selection. The Age Game with Duane Smith — Duane Smith! Which surely represents the natural culmination of everything the Age Game has been building towards. A special guest phones in. And suddenly Ian and Liam aren’t the only people with opinions. What social event do Ian, Liam and Duane commit themselves to? A promise is made on microphone, meaning it is now legally binding in the BFE universe. Amy Adams and the absence of an Oscar nomination. We have questions. Jeremy Renner. Is Ian Donnelly an essential part of the emotional equation, or is he trapped slightly in Louise’s gravitational pull? Would you make the same choice? Once Arrival reveals the real question it has been asking, the aliens almost become secondary. And finally, whether Arrival is the Best Film Ever — a cerebral science-fiction film about first contact, or an extraordinarily human film about choosing love even when you already know how much it is going to hurt. Become a Patron of this podcast and support the BFE at https://www.patreon.com/BFE

“King Kong ain’t got shit on me!” Join Ian & Hermes for our 352nd episode as we climb into Alonzo Harris’s Monte Carlo and discover very quickly that this is absolutely not going to be a normal first day on the job in Antoine Fuqua’s Training Day (2001). Megs isn’t with us this week — Alonzo told her they were just stopping for a quick drink and she sensibly got out of the car. Liam was supposed to join us, but somebody mentioned the Russian mob and he has spent the entire week refusing to answer the door. Kev made it as far as the bathtub scene, quietly put his shoes back on and went home. This week we discuss: A film that is incredibly well laid out… until the third act. For most of Training Day, everything feels deliberate, controlled and carefully planted. So what happens when the machinery starts to wobble? Did Ethan Hawke actually have the harder job? Denzel gets the swagger, menace and fireworks. Hawke has to make earnestness compelling. The scene Denzel was jealous of. There’s one sequence where even Washington apparently knew Hawke had the better material. Ian makes one claim about himself very early in the episode. Hermes then spends the rest of the show making absolutely certain he never forgets he said it. The Training Day that could have been. We look at some of the other actors linked to Alonzo and Jake — and how radically different those versions of the movie might have felt. Denzel versus Ethan. One actor gets to dominate the room. The other has to survive it. When does Jake finally understand who Alonzo really is? And how long does Alonzo manage to disguise corruption as education? Then we hit the third act. Why doesn’t Alonzo just kill Jake? Why doesn’t Smiley’s crew kill Jake? Why doesn’t the neighbourhood kill Alonzo? And how exactly does Alonzo manage to leave all of that behind just in time to run into the Russians? The answers may determine whether the ending feels inevitable — or simply convenient. “King Kong ain’t got shit on me.” Is this Alonzo at his most powerful, or the precise moment we realise he has nothing left? Washington’s Oscar-winning performance. Is Alonzo one of Denzel’s greatest creations, or simply one of his most entertaining? And finally, whether Training Day is the Best Film Ever — or a brilliantly constructed thriller whose final act asks us to stop looking quite so closely at the construction. Become a Patron of this podcast and support the BFE at https://www.patreon.com/BFE We are very thankful to the following Patreon backers for their generous support: Juleen from It Goes Down In The PM Hermes Auslander James DeGuzman Synthia Shai Bergerfroind Paul Komoroski Duane Smith (Duane Smith!) Andy Dickson Aashrey Chris Pedersen Randal Silva Nate The Great Rev Bruce Richard Ryan Kuketz Dirk Diggler Stew from the Stew World Order podcast NorfolkDomus Timmy Tim Tim Buy some BFE merch at https://my-store-b4e4d4.creator-spring.com/. Massive thanks to Lex Van Den Berghe for the use of Mistake by Luckydog. Catch more from Lex's new band, The Maids of Honor, at https://soundcloud.com/themaidsofhonor Also, massive thanks to Moonlight Social for our age game theme song. You can catch more from them at https://www.moonlightsocialmusic.com/

“We all go a little mad sometimes.” Join Ian & Megs for our 351st episode as we check into the Bates Motel, definitely avoid Cabin One and discover why showers have never quite felt the same since for Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960) — one of the most influential films ever made, one of cinema’s greatest exercises in audience manipulation… and perhaps a slightly stranger viewing experience than its reputation suggests. Liam isn’t with us this week — he checked into the Bates Motel and Norman assures us he checked out first thing this morning. We have absolutely no reason to question that. Kev is also absent. His mother wouldn’t let him come. This week we discuss: The extraordinary construction of Norman Bates — Anthony Perkins gives us one of cinema’s great characters long before we completely understand who we’re looking at. Awkward, charming, vulnerable, funny and quietly unsettling: how does Hitchcock make Norman someone we instinctively like at almost exactly the moment we should be becoming afraid of him? The narrative pivot that changed movies — Psycho spends almost its entire opening act convincing us that Marion Crane is the protagonist and that the stolen $40,000 is the story. Then Hitchcock pulls the floor out from underneath us. Is the shower scene’s real brilliance not simply that Marion dies, but that the entire movie we thought we were watching dies with her? And then it pivots again — Marion’s crime disappears, Norman becomes our point of identification and eventually the film shifts towards Lila and Sam investigating what happened. Psycho repeatedly hands the narrative from one character to another. Is that structural instability part of its genius — or one reason the middle of the film occasionally feels less propulsive than its reputation suggests? Those pacing issues — for a film remembered as relentlessly suspenseful, there are stretches where Psycho moves remarkably slowly. We talk about whether that deliberate patience increases the tension, whether some sequences simply drag, and how differently the film plays when you already know exactly what is waiting in the fruit cellar. Can a movie survive when its greatest pleasure is a twist everybody already knows? Norman Bates and Mother may be one of the least secret twists in cinema history. So what remains once surprise has disappeared? Does Psycho become richer on repeat viewing because we can watch Hitchcock constructing the deception — or does losing the revelation inevitably remove some of the film’s power? The shower scene beyond the shower scene — one of the most famous sequences ever filmed has almost escaped the movie surrounding it. Does its enormous cultural reputation distort the way we watch Psycho now, leaving us waiting for moments we already know rather than experiencing the story Hitchcock originally designed? Anthony Perkins is doing an extraordinary amount of work — the nervous laughter, the pauses, the tiny flashes of irritation whenever Marion mentions his mother. Once we know the truth, how much of Norman’s performance changes meaning without Perkins ever appearing to deliberately “play the twist”? Marion Crane and the movie that disappears with her — Janet Leigh gives the first half enormous emotional weight, particularly as Marion begins regretting the decision that brought her to the motel. Does killing her make Psycho thrillingly unpredictable, or does the film sacrifice its most compelling emotional storyline for the sake of its greatest trick? That psychologist scene. After Hitchcock has spent the entire film communicating through images, performance and implication, a psychiatrist arrives and essentially explains the movie to us. For a modern audience, it can feel astonishingly clunky — almost like somebody walking onstage after the curtain falls to explain what we just watched. But did audiences in 1960 actually need it? Ideas surrounding dissociative identity, gender, sexuality and mental illness were understood very differently by mainstream audiences. We ask whether the scene becomes more defensible when considered historically — not necessarily because its psychology is accurate, but because Hitchcock may have needed to give contemporary viewers a framework through which to process what they had just seen. And the performance within that infamous scene is actually excellent — Simon Oakland delivers an enormous amount of exposition with authority and conviction. So can something simultaneously be a strong performance and clumsy storytelling? And is our problem really with the scene itself, or simply with how radically cinematic language has changed since 1960? Hitchcock versus the audience — stolen money, voyeurism, false protagonists, sympathetic murderers, hidden identities. Psycho continually makes us invest emotionally in something before revealing that we have been looking in completely the wrong direction. How much of the film is really about Norman Bates — and how much is Hitchcock demonstrating just how easily an audience can be controlled? And finally, whether Psycho is the Best Film Ever — a film containing some of the greatest sequences, characters and filmmaking decisions in cinema history, but one where the pieces might actually be more perfect than the experience of watching the whole thing. Become a Patron of this podcast and support the BFE at https://www.patreon.com/BFE

“That's not a knife. THAT'S a knife.” Join Ian & Megs for our 350th episode as we leave the Australian outback behind, head for New York City and discover just how far charm, confidence and an extremely large knife can take you in Peter Faiman’s Crocodile Dundee (1986). Liam isn’t with us this week — he tried telling Mick Dundee that he knew his way around the Australian wilderness. He has not been seen since. Kev is also absent, having become distracted by the promise of a Walkabout Creek drinking session and apparently forgotten there was a podcast to record. This week we discuss: Mick Dundee as a character creation — Paul Hogan creates someone instantly recognisable, enormously charismatic and almost impossible not to like. But is Mick himself significantly better than the movie built around him? Great character. Great movie? Crocodile Dundee gives us an iconic central character, memorable scenes and lines that have survived for forty years — but do those ingredients disguise a surprisingly thin story? Memorable moments aren’t the same thing as narrative — the crocodile attack, the knife, the bar scenes, the subway ending. We remember an extraordinary amount of Crocodile Dundee, but does remembering the individual moments make us overestimate the strength of the film connecting them together? The movie effectively changes genre halfway through — the Australian section plays almost like an adventure comedy, while New York turns Mick into a fish-out-of-water character. Which half works better, and does the film ever feel completely whole? Paul Hogan’s performance — understated, relaxed and rarely chasing the punchline. How much of the movie’s success comes simply from Hogan understanding exactly how much — and how little — Mick Dundee needs to do? Sue Charlton is much harder to understand than Mick — she is fascinated by Mick, romantically attached to Richard and seemingly capable of treating both men with remarkable cruelty depending upon what the scene requires. Susan, Richard and Mick — this relationship increasingly frustrated us. Richard is certainly not presented as particularly sympathetic, but Sue repeatedly humiliates him, keeps him emotionally dangling and then seems surprised by his reactions. Meanwhile, she also plays with Mick’s feelings while refusing to be honest about what she actually wants. Does the romance actually work? Mick and Sue have obvious chemistry, but does the screenplay earn their relationship — or are we simply carried along by Hogan and Linda Kozlowski until that enormously charming final scene tells us everything has worked out? The changing comedy of Crocodile Dundee — some jokes remain beautifully simple and effective; others very clearly belong to 1986. How much can we separate the film’s enormous cultural impact from the parts that have aged awkwardly? New York through Mick’s eyes — the movie’s best trick might be reversing our expectations. Mick initially appears to be the strange outsider, yet his straightforward view of the world often makes everyone around him seem considerably stranger. And finally, whether Crocodile Dundee is the Best Film Ever — or simply one of cinema’s great reminders that creating an unforgettable character and giving him unforgettable lines is not necessarily the same thing as telling an unforgettable story. Become a Patron of this podcast and support the BFE at https://www.patreon.com/BFE We are very thankful to the following Patreon backers for their generous support: Juleen from It Goes Down In The PM Hermes Auslander James DeGuzman Synthia Shai Bergerfroind Ariannah Who Loves BFE The Most Paul Komoroski Duane Smith (Duane Smith!) Andy Dickson Aashrey Chris Pedersen Randal Silva Nate The Great Rev Bruce Richard Ryan Kuketz Dirk Diggler Stew from the Stew World Order podcast NorfolkDomus John Humphrey's Right Foot Timmy Tim Tim Youth Hosteling with Chris Eubank Buy some BFE merch at https://my-store-b4e4d4.creator-spring.com/. Massive thanks to Lex Van Den Berghe for the use of Mistake by Luckydog. Catch more from Lex's new band, The Maids of Honor, at https://soundcloud.com/themaidsofhonor Also, massive thanks to Moonlight Social for our age game theme song. You can catch more from them at https://www.moonlightsocialmusic.com/

“What really matters is what you like, not what you are like.” Join Ian & Liam for our 349th episode as we alphabetise the vinyl, rank our emotional catastrophes and head back to Championship Vinyl for Stephen Frears’ High Fidelity (2000). Megs isn’t with us this week — Rob asked her to rank her five worst break-ups and she decided she’d rather never speak to any of us again. Kev has disappeared into a record shop and refuses to come out until everyone agrees his Top Five Albums list is objectively correct. This week we discuss: John Cusack as Rob Gordon — charismatic, funny, self-aware... and still somehow completely incapable of recognising that he might be the problem. A coming-of-age story for a man in his 30s — has Rob reached adulthood without ever actually growing up, and is the film really about emotional adolescence arriving about fifteen years late? The strange A Christmas Carol connection — like Scrooge, Rob is forced to revisit his past, confront the stories he has told himself about his own unhappiness and realise that memory becomes much less comforting when other people get to challenge your version of events. Breaking the fourth wall and controlling the narrative — does Rob talking directly to us make him more honest, or simply allow him to curate his own story in the same way he curates his record collection? The Top Five obsession, music and taste as identity — are Rob’s lists just a funny character trait, or a defence mechanism that allows him to substitute having good taste for actually having a personality? The ex-girlfriend tour and the women in Rob’s life — funny, revealing and deeply unhealthy. Does revisiting these relationships actually help Rob understand himself, and how much are we still trapped inside his self-centred perspective? Barry, Dick and Jack Black before JACK BLACK — the supporting cast repeatedly threaten to walk away with the movie, while Jack Black seems to arrive already fully formed. The ending and Rob’s emotional growth — does he genuinely mature, simply become more self-aware, or finally learn the fairly basic lesson that loving someone requires occasionally making the story about somebody other than yourself? And finally, whether High Fidelity is the Best Film Ever — or simply the perfect film for anyone who has ever mistaken having excellent taste for having an excellent personality. Become a Patron of this podcast and support the BFE at https://www.patreon.com/BFE We are very thankful to the following Patreon backers for their generous support: Juleen from It Goes Down In The PM Hermes Auslander James DeGuzman Synthia Shai Bergerfroind Ariannah Who Loves BFE The Most Paul Komoroski Duane Smith (Duane Smith!) Andy Dickson Aashrey Chris Pedersen Randal Silva Nate The Great Rev Bruce Richard Ryan Kuketz Dirk Diggler Stew from the Stew World Order podcast NorfolkDomus John Humphrey's Right Foot Timmy Tim Tim Youth Hosteling with Chris Eubank Buy some BFE merch at https://my-store-b4e4d4.creator-spring.com/. Massive thanks to Lex Van Den Berghe for the use of Mistake by Luckydog. Catch more from Lex's new band, The Maids of Honor, at https://soundcloud.com/themaidsofhonor Also, massive thanks to Moonlight Social for our age game theme song. You can catch more from them at https://www.moonlightsocialmusic.com/  

“Get off my lawn.” Join Ian, Liam & Megs for our 348th episode as we pull the Gran Torino out of the garage and spend some time with the angriest man on the street for Clint Eastwood’s Gran Torino (2008) — a film about racism, masculinity, community and the legacy we leave behind.  Kev isn’t with us this week — Walt caught him looking at the Gran Torino and has been sitting on the porch staring at him ever since. Kev assures us he'll be allowed to move eventually.  And we're delighted to welcome BFF of the BFE Hermes Auslander to help us unpack one of the most fascinating — and occasionally deeply uncomfortable — films of Eastwood's later career. This week we discuss: Clint Eastwood and legacy — how much does Gran Torino deliberately trade on everything Eastwood has represented on screen for the previous forty years? Where does this rank among our Clint Eastwood films? We put Walt Kowalski up against the other Eastwood performances and movies we've covered on the BFE. Masculinity according to Walt — tools, cars, beer, work and absolutely no discussion of feelings. Is the film celebrating this version of manhood or slowly dismantling it? The creation of “the other” — Walt begins with an entire community reduced to stereotypes and slurs. And the dismantling of “the other” — what happens once the people Walt has spent years categorising actually become people to him? Walt and Thao — a mentorship that begins with an attempted car theft and becomes the emotional heart of the movie. Sue — is she actually the person most responsible for breaking through Walt's defences? The language of Gran Torino — can the film use racism to interrogate racism without occasionally becoming too comfortable with the joke? The performances around Eastwood — does the decision to cast inexperienced Hmong actors add authenticity, or expose some pretty significant gaps in performance? And is there one acting moment that nearly ruins the entire film? When Walt locks Thao away, does Bee Vang give us anything close to the desperation that this enormously important scene requires? Walt's biological family versus the family next door — the people he's related to seem increasingly distant while the people he initially despises become his community. Father Janovich is more important than he first appears — what begins as Walt mocking an inexperienced young priest develops into a relationship that becomes crucial to understanding the ending. What does Walt actually leave behind? The Gran Torino matters, but his real legacy might have considerably less to do with the car. Clint Eastwood playing Clint Eastwood — brilliantly weaponising his own screen persona, or occasionally drifting into self-parody? That ending — after a career built around armed men solving problems with violence, Eastwood gives Walt one final confrontation and refuses to let him fire the gun. But does everything finish a little too neatly? Walt gets his redemption, Thao gets the car and the gang problem gets wrapped up remarkably cleanly for a film that has spent so long dealing in messier realities. Hermes joins us to tackle the redemption question — does learning to love a handful of people actually undo a lifetime of prejudice? And finally, whether Gran Torino is the Best Film Ever — or Clint Eastwood putting his own cinematic legacy on trial. Become a Patron of this podcast and support the BFE at https://www.patreon.com/BFE We are very thankful to the following Patreon backers for their generous support: Juleen from It Goes Down In The PM Hermes Auslander James DeGuzman Synthia Shai Bergerfroind Ariannah Who Loves BFE The Most Paul Komoroski Duane Smith (Duane Smith!) Andy Dickson Aashrey Chris Pedersen Randal Silva Nate The Great Rev Bruce Richard Ryan Kuketz Dirk Diggler Stew from the Stew World Order podcast NorfolkDomus John Humphrey's Right Foot Timmy Tim Tim Youth Hosteling with Chris Eubank Buy some BFE merch at https://my-store-b4e4d4.creator-spring.com/. Massive thanks to Lex Van Den Berghe for the use of Mistake by Luckydog. Catch more from Lex's new band, The Maids of Honor, at https://soundcloud.com/themaidsofhonor Also, massive thanks to Moonlight Social for our age game theme song. You can catch more from them at https://www.moonlightsocialmusic.com/

Are you ready for some (fantasy) football?  We're back with our Patrons once again and invited a returning special guest to join us to fill out the field  We've got your BFE favourites - Ian, Liam, and KevDog, drafting live.  We're also joined live by some of the BFE Patreon personalities, adding to the merriment and we've got a very special guest. It's a peak behind the curtain as you catch the BFE group just kicking it as we pretend we know what we're doing with Fantasy Football.  In between bites of Pizza and Chicken Nuggets we provide commentary on the picks by our absent drafters - whether they're drafting remotely or letting the computer do the heavy lifting) There's pizza, banter, and a behind-the-scenes perspective that might help you know your BFE peeps a little bit better.