Barfly Cinema

Thomas Backman

Tom and Gage discuss cinema at Beerworks in downtown Medford, OR. New episodes every Monday.

  1. Frequency (2000) Review

    3 FEB

    Frequency (2000) Review

    Tom and Gage discuss Frequency from 2000. Frequency (2000) is a sci-fi drama wrapped around a very human father–son bond, and baseball is the emotional through line that stitches the timelines together. The story centers on John Sullivan, a New York detective in 1999, and his father Frank, a firefighter living in 1969. Through a freak aurora, they communicate via an old ham radio—and John realizes he can change the past. One of the first and most personal changes comes through baseball: John warns Frank about a future World Series game, proving the connection is real and convincing Frank to trust what he’s hearing from his son. Baseball functions as more than a cool proof-of-time-travel trick. It’s their shared language, a symbol of normalcy and love across decades. Frank is a passionate baseball fan, and John’s childhood memories of watching games with his dad represent a relationship cut short when Frank died young. By using baseball knowledge to save Frank from a fatal fire, John isn’t just altering history—he’s reclaiming the moments he lost: tossing a ball, arguing over games, being a kid with his dad. As the timeline shifts and new dangers emerge, baseball remains the emotional anchor. Even when memories fracture and reality rewrites itself, the father–son bond forged over baseball persists. In the end, the movie suggests that while time can bend and chaos can ripple outward, shared rituals—like baseball—carry love across generations, grounding the sci-fi premise in something deeply familiar and heartfelt. ⚾️

    37 min
  2. Buffalo 66 (1998) Review

    28 JAN

    Buffalo 66 (1998) Review

    Tom and Gage discuss Vincent Gallo's Buffalo 66 from 1998. Buffalo ’66 (1998) — Summary Buffalo ’66 is a bleak, off-kilter indie film that mixes deadpan humor, romantic fantasy, and emotional trauma. The story follows Billy Brown (played by Vincent Gallo), who’s just been released from prison after five years. Too ashamed to admit the truth to his emotionally abusive parents, Billy kidnaps Layla (Christina Ricci), a shy tap dancer, and forces her to pose as his wife for a visit home. What begins as coercive and unsettling gradually softens into something more complicated and intimate. The film drifts between: Billy’s crippling resentment toward his parentsHis obsession with the Buffalo Bills’ Super Bowl loss, which he blames for ruining his lifeFantasies of violence and revengeUnexpected moments of tenderness between Billy and LaylaStylistically, it’s stark and stylized: long silences, washed-out colors, abrupt emotional shifts. The tone walks a tightrope between cruelty and vulnerability. By the end, the film becomes less about crime or revenge and more about whether deeply damaged people can choose connection over self-destruction. It’s controversial, uncomfortable, and very personal—basically a cinematic emotional wound. Vincent Gallo — Career Overview Vincent Gallo is one of those artists where the work and the personality are inseparable, for better or worse. Early Career Started in the 1980s New York art scene, involved in music, painting, and experimental filmActed in films like Arizona Dream (1993) and The Funeral (1996), gaining attention for his intensity and unpredictabilityBreakthrough: Buffalo ’66 Gallo wrote, directed, starred in, composed the music for, and partially shot the filmIt became a cult hit and was praised for its originality, performances (especially Christina Ricci), and raw emotional honestyCemented Gallo as a major indie auteur—but also as a difficult, polarizing figureLater Film Work Directed The Brown Bunny (2003), infamous for:An explicit sex sceneBeing brutally panned at Cannes, then partially redeemed after re-editingActed in films like:Trouble Every Day (2001)Essential Killing (2010), which won him Best Actor at the Venice Film FestivalMusic and Art Released several lo-fi, melancholic albums blending post-punk, blues, and experimental soundsContinues to paint and exhibit visual artHis music and art share the same themes as his films: alienation, nostalgia, masculinity, and romantic despairControversy and Reputation Known for provocative, offensive, or inflammatory statementsFrequently clashes with critics, audiences, and collaboratorsSeen by some as a misunderstood auteur; by others as self-indulgent and misogynisticHis public persona has often overshadowed his actual workBig Picture Vincent Gallo is best understood as: A deeply personal artist who puts his own damage onscreenSomeone whose work can feel honest, cruel, romantic, and repellent all at onceA figure who thrives on discomfort—both emotional and culturalIf you like Buffalo ’66, you’re usually responding to its lonely, wounded sincerity, not necessarily to Gallo himself. If you want, I can also: Compare Buffalo ’66 to The Brown BunnyTalk about why the film became such a cult classicOr unpack the Billy/Layla relationship in more detail

    28 min
  3. The Duellists (1977) Review

    26 JAN

    The Duellists (1977) Review

    The Duellists (1977) Review Tom and Gage discuss Ridley Scott's The Duellists from 1977. The Duellists (1977), Ridley Scott’s debut feature, is a restrained, elegant historical drama adapted from Joseph Conrad’s short story The Duel. Set during the Napoleonic Wars, it explores obsession, honor, and the corrosive pull of pride through a decades-long personal feud. Plot SummaryThe film follows two French army officers, Armand d’Hubert (Keith Carradine) and Gabriel Feraud (Harvey Keitel), whose lives become entangled by a seemingly trivial insult. D’Hubert is tasked with delivering a reprimand to Feraud, a hot-tempered and fiercely proud officer. Feraud interprets this as a personal slight and challenges d’Hubert to a duel. What begins as a minor dispute spirals into a lifelong obsession. Over the course of nearly 20 years—across shifting fronts of the Napoleonic Wars, changes in rank, political upheaval, and personal fortunes—the two men repeatedly seek each other out to duel: with swords, pistols, and under varying conditions. Each duel is inconclusive, never resolving the feud. While Feraud clings fanatically to the idea that his honor has been stained and must be redeemed through combat, d’Hubert increasingly views the conflict as irrational and destructive, even as he feels bound by the rigid codes of military honor. The feud costs both men dearly, but especially Feraud, whose inability to move on ultimately leaves him isolated and diminished. The film culminates in a final confrontation after Napoleon’s fall, where d’Hubert gains the upper hand and—rather than killing Feraud—forces him to confront the emptiness of his obsession. Major Themes1. Obsession and FutilityAt its core, The Duellists is about how obsession can hollow out a life. Feraud defines himself almost entirely through the duel; without it, he has no identity. The original cause of the conflict becomes irrelevant—what matters is the continuation of the feud itself. The film quietly argues that obsession thrives not on meaning, but on repetition. 2. Honor as a TrapHonor is presented not as a noble ideal but as a socially enforced prison. Both men are constrained by an unwritten code that demands they keep fighting, even when it no longer makes sense. D’Hubert, the more reflective of the two, recognizes the absurdity but lacks the freedom to escape it—until the very end. 3. Reason vs. PassionThe duelists embody opposing temperaments: D’Hubert represents reason, restraint, and adaptability.Feraud represents passion, pride, and rigidity.Their conflict mirrors Enlightenment rationality clashing with raw emotion. Importantly, the film does not portray reason as heroic in a conventional sense—d’Hubert survives not because he is braver, but because he evolves. 4. The Absurdity of ViolenceSet against the backdrop of massive historical violence—the Napoleonic Wars—the personal feud seems small, almost ridiculous. Yet it is deadly serious to the men involved. Scott underscores the irony that while empires rise and fall, these two men are locked in a private, meaningless war of their own. 5. Time, Change, and StagnationTime moves forward inexorably in the film: regimes change, careers rise and fall, and d’Hubert matures emotionally and socially. Feraud, by contrast, remains frozen—still fighting the same battle for the same wounded pride. The film suggests that survival, both personal and political, depends on the ability to adapt. 6. Masculinity and IdentityThe duels are not just about honor; they are about how men define themselves. Feraud equates masculinity with dominance and violence. D’Hubert gradually learns that self-worth can exist outside constant confrontation. The final mercy he shows Feraud is a rejection of the narrow, destructive version of masculinity they were both taught. In ShortThe Duellists is less a swashbuckling adventure than a quiet, philosophical meditation on pride and persistence. With painterly visuals and a deliberately measured pace, it treats violence not as spectacle but as ritual—one that becomes emptier and sadder each time it is repeated. It’s a film about how letting go can be harder, and braver, than fighting.

    47 min
  4. Diner (1982) Review

    22 JAN

    Diner (1982) Review

    Tom and Gage discuss Barry Levinson's Diner from 1982. Diner (1982) is a coming-of-age ensemble film set in late-1950s Baltimore, following a close-knit group of young men drifting from adolescence into adulthood. As they navigate impending marriages, career uncertainties, and lingering immaturity, the local diner becomes their emotional home base—a place where arguments, jokes, anxieties, and loyalties play out over coffee and late-night food. The plot itself is deliberately loose, built less around dramatic turns than around moments: debates about music and movies, tests of friendship, and the fear of growing up. What makes Diner distinctive is Barry Levinson’s direction, which is subtle, observational, and deeply personal. Rather than pushing a conventional narrative, Levinson lets scenes breathe, trusting naturalistic dialogue and ensemble chemistry to carry the film. His direction favors long takes, casual blocking, and overlapping conversations, creating the feeling that the audience is eavesdropping on real friendships rather than watching scripted drama. This approach emphasizes character over plot and nostalgia without sentimentality. Levinson also uses specificity as a directorial tool: the Baltimore setting, period details, and pop-culture arguments all feel lived-in, reflecting his own memories rather than a generic version of the 1950s. The diner itself becomes a kind of stage for male bonding, and Levinson frames it as a safe, static space contrasted with the uncomfortable changes happening outside its walls. Through this restrained, human-scale direction, Diner becomes less about a single story and more about a shared emotional moment—the uneasy pause between youth and adulthood.

    38 min
  5. Jeremiah Johnson (1972) Review

    15 JAN

    Jeremiah Johnson (1972) Review

    Tom and Gage discuss Sydney Pollack's Jeremiah Johnson from 1972.  Jeremiah Johnson (1972) is a contemplative Western that follows the journey of Jeremiah Johnson (played by Robert Redford), a veteran of the Mexican–American War who decides to abandon civilization and live as a mountain man in the rugged Rocky Mountains. Initially inept at wilderness survival, Johnson endures brutal winters, learns essential skills from an experienced trapper named Bear Claw Chris Lapp, and slowly adapts to his new life. Along the way he rescues and adopts a mute young boy, marries a Native woman, and briefly settles into family life. However, conflict with the Crow tribe—sparked by cultural misunderstandings and tragic violence—forces him into a long, violent feud that transforms him from a solitary woodsman into a legendary figure of frontier lore. The narrative blends survival drama, cultural encounters, tragedy, and mythic transformation. One of the most striking aspects of Jeremiah Johnson is its authentic setting. Although Warner Bros. originally planned to shoot on a studio backlot, Redford and Pollack insisted on filming on real wilderness locations to capture the untamed spirit of the West. The film was shot in nearly 100 locations across Utah and Arizona, with much of the dramatic mountain scenery coming from Utah’s vast forests and parks. Key Utah locations included Zion National Park, Mount Timpanogos, Alpine Loop, Snow Canyon State Park, Wasatch-Cache and Uinta National Forests, Ashley National Forest, and areas around Sundance (Redford’s own property). Some spring and summer scenes were also filmed in Arizona’s deserts and reservation lands, giving contrast to the snowy mountain sequences and illustrating the passage of seasons. These rugged, on-location settings aren’t just backdrops—they shape the film’s mood and underline Johnson’s struggle against both nature and isolation. Redford delivers a measured, immersive performance as Jeremiah Johnson. His portrayal emphasizes quiet resilience and introspection over bravado, making Johnson feel like a real person gradually shaped (and scarred) by the wilderness. Critics have noted that the role anchors the film’s emotional tone, with Redford evolving from an awkward tenderfoot to a hardened, introspective woodsman. He carries much of the film’s narrative weight with minimal dialogue, relying on physicality and presence—his motion through snow, silence, and landscape becomes a language of its own. This grounded approach helps the viewer experience the isolation and hardship of frontier life firsthand. Director Sydney Pollack takes a mood-driven, almost meditative approach rather than a strictly plot-driven one. Rather than conventional action beats, the film unfolds through rhythms of survival, solitude, and the harsh beauty of the landscape. Pollack’s commitment to location shooting—even mortgaging his own home to keep the production authentic—reflects his belief that the natural environment is a character in itself. He stages scenes with a careful, almost documentary eye, often letting nature dominate the frame. Technical challenges—like shooting in deep snow with limited light and no opportunity for multiple takes—meant Pollack and his crew had to embrace spontaneity and resourcefulness, which in turn gives the film its raw, immersive feel. His direction balances moments of stillness with sudden violence, shaping a Western that questions mythic heroism as much as it celebrates survival.

    26 min
  6. Sunshine Cleaning (2008) Review

    5 JAN

    Sunshine Cleaning (2008) Review

    Tom and Gage discuss Christine Jeffs' Sunshine Cleaning from 2008. Rose Lorkowski is a single mother in her 30s, struggling to make ends meet as a house cleaner while raising her energetic 8-year-old son, Oscar. Her younger sister, Norah, directionless and frequently unemployed, lives with their father, Joe, whose well-meaning schemes rarely pan out. When Oscar’s behavior at school puts pressure on Rose to find more money, she turns to Mac, a former high-school boyfriend who is now a police officer, for advice. Mac suggests an unconventional opportunity: crime-scene cleanup. Rose convinces Norah to join her, and the sisters stumble their way into the unfamiliar and emotionally demanding work. After a rocky start, they gather proper equipment, name their company “Sunshine Cleaning,” and begin building a modest reputation. As the business grows, the job forces both women to confront unresolved feelings about their past, particularly surrounding their mother’s death. Outside of work, tensions mount within the family. Rose feels the sting of comparing her life to those of her more successful former classmates, while her complicated relationship with Mac becomes increasingly strained. Norah forms an unexpected connection with someone they meet on the job, and Joe pursues yet another questionable business idea. Just as Sunshine Cleaning seems poised for a turning point, a major opportunity coincides with personal pressures, leading to decisions that put everything at risk. The sisters are forced to confront the consequences of their choices, testing their relationship, their ambitions, and their sense of purpose.

    26 min

About

Tom and Gage discuss cinema at Beerworks in downtown Medford, OR. New episodes every Monday.