Hi, PopMatters reader! I'm Violet Glaze, and I write the monthly classic film column Shh... It's Starting for the magazine you're currently enjoying. I attended the School of the Museum of Fine Arts and Maryland Institute College of Art, and, like many bartenders, office assistants, and exotic dancers in your hometown, I have a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree, hopefully soon to become a Masters of Fine Arts.
I'm currently a film critic and contributing writer for the Baltimore City Paper. I'm also a two-time Emmy award winning producer and video editor at Maryland Public Television, and I teach Film History at Carver Center, an arts and technology high school. My students are the smartest people in the world. My writing has also appeared in Opium Magazine, Link, and Radar Review. See, I sound pretty good on paper. You should try and write one of these on yourself, it's a real ego boost. (I got a rejection letter with a handwritten note at the bottom from the New Yorker once. That was pretty cool, but I don't think it counts.)
Some random things about me: I'm part-Italian, but everyone thinks I'm Jewish. My great-grandmother was born on a ship in Baltimore Harbor in 1900. If I got to host a dinner party for six people from any point in history, I would invite Wendy O. Williams, Raymond Scott, Fred Rogers, Jane Goodall, Buster Keaton, and Bruce Lee. I'd cook everything, too. Since Wendy and I are both vegans, I'd make sure to have lots of roasted veggie-and-tempeh pizza for us, but I'd grill some T-bones for the meat-eaters as well. (Mark Mothersbaugh, Annie Sprinkle, and Emma Goldman can come too, but they have to bring something.)
I could not even begin to talk about what films are my favorites. Ok, Blue Velvet. Videodrome. Faster Pussycat, Kill! Kill!The Empire Strikes Back. Sunset Boulevard. Taxi Driver. Tron. Fight Club. Man With A Movie Camera. Psycho. STOP. I could do this all day. And I'm sure you have things you need to do, so I won't keep you much longer.
I live in Baltimore with my brilliant and adorable husband, the neuroscientist Christopher Glaze, and our three cats and our five Madagascar hissing cockroaches. (The vertebrates and invertebrates in our household are evenly matched, but non-humans outnumber humans.) Our first date was at The Charles Theater, where we saw a French film about a serial-killing dog.
See, now we're done. That wasn't so hard. Thanks for reading!
At one time, she was the most powerful woman in Hollywood's paternalistic boy's club. So why is Mary Pickford merely a forgotten cinematic icon today? The answer seems, sadly, to be a matter of personal, not professional drive.
Trick photography? Optical experimentation? The purposeful playing with the cinematic language? Russian filmmaker Dziga Vertov was doing it all, decades before a certain sci-fi film challenged the notion of perception vs. reality.
This month, our cinematic classicist looks at the human love of firepower, and how one forgotten film noir in particular encapsulated everything good and bad, appealing and appauling, about this obsession with guns.
Who's the perfect silent film comedian for our techno-centric age? Here's a hint: he's the classic 'stoneface' who made machines his friends, not his entertainment enemies, during the course of his amazing cinematic career.
Desperate for a symbol other than Fight Club's Tyler Durden to help 'realign your perceptions' on life? Look no further than Walt Disney's 1964 family classic, and a certain subversive nanny who understands rebellion all too well.
There's perhaps no better example of misguided melodrama than 1934/1959's Imitation of Life, and according to our critic, no more culturally defining or disturbing character than its light-skinned, half-breed heroine.
When you discuss the classic Westerns of Hollywood, one name immediately comes to mind: John Ford. And when you consider his stunning cinematic masterpieces, one particular desert locale is his iconic trademark.