Do yourself a favor and go see ‘The Assasination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford’. It’s the first time I recognized a film I really liked to be not really well written, which could have easily gone wrong. Instead, it turned out to be a wonderful film, very well shot and starring beautiful performances by some of the best actors in Hollywood like Brad Pitt, Paul Schneider and (an excellent) Sam Rockwell. But the real treat is watching Casey Affleck make it exciting for the super talented Brad Pitt who, in zero moments in this film, was able to slip into auto-pilot mode like I see him do in almost every film he’s in. As if he’s way too comfortable with the parts he’s playing. Not while being Jesse James, kids. Here’s a performance that’ll leave you somewhere in the front of your seat during the entire film. ‘On edge’, is the expression I’m obviously looking for.
When checking the IMDb, Casey Affleck apparently starred in numerous films I had already seen (To Die For, Chasing Amy, American Pie, 200 Cigarettes, The Oceans Classics), but I gotta admit I only first noticed him in Gus van Sant’s masterpiece Gerry. But it’s kind of hard not to spot him in that particular film. If you don’t know why, go see that film and find it out for yourself.
Anyway, back to celluloid homosexuality. Go see ‘The assasination of…’ and find out everything there is to know about the stalky love for Jesse James by one Robert Ford. A kid who’s just so very much into Jesse James that he decides to ‘do him’ (as Beavis and Butthead would put it) since he could never become him. I’m not exactly sure why, but the whole thing made me think of these lyrics:
Neil Young
Pocahontas
Aurora Borealis
The icy sky at night
Paddles cut the water
In a long and hurried flight
From the white man to the fields of green
And the homeland we’ve never seen
They killed us in our teepee
And they cut our women down
They might have left some babies
Cryin on the ground
But the firesticks and the wagons come
And the night falls on the setting sun
They massacred the buffalo
Kitty corner from the bank
The taxis run across my feet
And my eyes have turned to blanks
In my little box at the top of the stairs
With my indian rug and a pipe to share
I wish a was a trapper
I would give thousand pelts
To sleep with Pocahontas
And find out how she felt
In the mornin on the fields of green
In the homeland we’ve never seen
And maybe Marlon Brando
Will be there by the fire
We’ll sit and talk of Hollywood
And the good things there for hire
And the astrodome and the first teepee
Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and me
Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and me
Pocahontas!
