I graduated from college in December which means this whole end of summer thing feels a little weird. I’m getting anxiety about the prospect of not having that beginning of semester anxiety. I mean my summer started in May because that’s when it got warm out but other people have weird parameters for when summer starts like Memorial Day. Likewise apparently summer ended this weekend because of so called “Labor Day” which I call bullshit on because summer ends when I stop sweating out of every orifice any time I’m outside for upwards of a minute.
1. Heathers
If you are going back to school, sorry and godspeed. Heathers was my saving grace during high school, I watched it more times than is probably permissible by the American Psychological Association. Even if you’ve seen it it’s worth a revisit purely for that Winona writing angrily in her diary while wearing a monocle moment.
2. Pierrot Le Fou
Including this movie makes me the most obvious cliche in the entire world but regardless I love Anna Karina, Jean Paul Belmondo and Godard so fuck it. This movie is supposedly about Ferdinand (Jean Paul Belmondo) and Marianne (Anna Karina) escaping from some hit men or thugs or some shit. But honestly that whole thing feels secondary to what is actually the main thread of the movie – which is just Ferdinand continuously asking Marianne why’s she’s sad which is met with answers like “I want to go dancing” “I’m just a sentimental girl” etc. The movie also serves as a montage of a road trip through France to the Mediterranean so it’s really beautiful. While my apartment windows over look some shitty midtown street, if I play this movie really loudly with the windows open it almost feels like I’m not sitting in an inflatable pool in my living room.
3. Weekend (1967)
Okay so this is another Godard movie but!!! it’s basically the epitome of why trying to escape the city during a long weekend is a hellish venture. A married couple heads to the country to ensure their inclusion in a will, all the while plotting like five murders each. Their car breaks down and they wander through random scenes in history and literature on their way to the country house. There’s also some light cannibalism and anarchy. The lesson is don’t trust anyone who invites you to the Hamptons.
Film column by Tamim Alnuweiri. Follow her at @tamimalnuweiri.
