Filmwell Lines to Live By: The Last Days of Disco
Des in Whit Stillman’s The Last Days of Disco: “You know that Shakespearean admonition, ‘To thine own self be true’? It’s premised on the idea that ‘thine own self’ is something pretty good, being true to which is commendable. But what if ‘thine own self’ is not so good? What if it’s pretty bad? Would it be better in that case not to be true to thine own self?” And that is one of the reasons why The Last Days of... Read More
Whit Stillman, Poet of the Urban Haute Bourgeoisie (Part 3): The Last Days Of Disco (1998)
I’m going to turn over a new leaf in Spain. I’m going to turn over several new leaves. You know that Shakespearean admonition, “To thine own self be true”? It’s premised on the idea that “thine own self” is something pretty good, being true to which is commendable. But what if “thine own self” is not so good? What if it’s pretty bad? Would it be better in that case not to be true to thine own self? See? That’s... Read More
Last Days of Disco (Stillman, 1998)
On the heels of Reed’s Metropolitan and Barcelona review comes a companion review by guest writer John Adair. Whit Stillman’s The Last Days of Disco came out over a decade ago, but its directionless youth who overestimate themselves seem even more prescient today than they did in 1998. That Stillman avoids making his characters hateful or unlikable while eliciting laughter and smiles is a testament to his skill as a writer and director, and to the film’s lasting place... Read More
Whit Stillman, Poet of the Urban Haute Bourgeoisie (Part 2): Barcelona (1994)
Fred: What is this? Some strange Glenn Miller-based religious ceremony? Ted: No. Presbyterian. Whit Stillman’s wonderful trilogy of serious comedies about rich kids in love might almost be dubbed “The Discrete Charm of the Urban Haute Bourgeoisie.” The second, a story of not-so-much-ugly-as-absurd-but-still-rather-charming Americans abroad, is the lightest of the three, the characters’ upper-class foibles extended to the point of likable ridiculousness... Read More
Whit Stillman, Poet of the Urban Haute Bourgeoisie (Part 1): Metropolitan (1990)
Charlie: Of course there’s a God! We all basically know there is. Cynthia: I know no such thing. Charlie: Of course you do! When you think to yourself — and most of our waking life is taken up thinking to ourself — you must have that feeling that your thoughts aren’t entirely wasted, that in some sense they are being heard. I think it’s this sensation of silently being listened to with total comprehension that represents our innate belief in a supreme being, an all–comprehending... Read More
Comments