Père Mère Soeur Frère

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The first movie excursion of 2026 (and the first cinema viewing since Eternity) was a matinee of Jim Jarmusch‘s new film Father Mother Sister Brother (2026).  I wasn’t aware of its existence until yesterday when I looked at what films would be playing at area movie theatres.  I would have watched it anyway because of Cate Blanchett and Charlotte Rampling, but the trailer did convince me to see it at the theatre.

The film consists of three vignettes, each corresponding to a part of the title.  The first segment is about Father (Tom Waits) and includes siblings Jeff (Adam Driver) and Emily (Mayim Bialik).  The second segment presents Mother (Rampling) and her daughters Timothea (Blanchett) and Lilith (Vicky Krieps).  The third segment centers on fraternal twins Billy (Luka Sabbat) and Skye (Indya Moore).  In addition to portraying the particular dynamics between each family set up, Jarmusch incorporates verbal and visual references to a Rolex watch, water, toasting (with water, tea, or espresso), “Bob’s your uncle,” overhead shots, and POVs from inside cars that casual moviegoers might find dull, but for Jarmusch fans and lovers of daily-life voyeurism with a dose of absurd humor, this film is a delight. 

I’m pretending that in an alternate universe Mira Nair, Hal Hartley, or Whit Stillman is contemplating making a feature length film out of one of these vignettes.  Each of these filmmakers (who also happen to be among my favorite directors) specialize in exploring the comedy and psychology of human behavior (family or no) that could yield something amusing and thought-provoking.

PS.  Matt Ryan is coming back to the Atlanta Falcons as “President of Football.”

Pic creds: IMDB, YouTube screengrabs

Sparkling Suder

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First post of the new year.  First poem of 2026.

call me second suder

you can’t leave the past behind
the narrator of your present won’t allow it
instead the speaker alternates voices
from then to now
to explain how you got
from then to now
why you’re taking a break
from your ball-playing days
why you think you can play the sax
why you gotta play Ornithology
for anyone you could ask

the back jacket only mentions
a walkabout that brings around
a young girl, an elephant, and people
searching for you

it kinda forgets to mention
the young girl, the elephant, and those people
on the trail after you
don’t make an appearance until the last section
at which point
the reader may or may not already know
whether or not they like you.

– yiqi 3 January 2026 9:35 pm

First poem of the year inspired by thinking about Percival Everett’s first novel, Suder (1983).  Originally posted at my tumblr.

~!~

I watched zero football this season…. and were it not for some incidental hyperlink travels last night, I would not have known that Raheem Morris and Terry Fontenot’s respective services as head coach and general manager for the Atlanta Falcons are no longer required.

Enjoy some pix I took at the start of 2026.

Alas, Babylon Bugonia

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There shan’t be in-depth analysis.  I just wanted to impart in this probable last entry of the year that I finished reading Pat Frank’s novel Alas, Babylon and loved it.  Although the subject matter is bleak, the themes of self-reliance, teamwork, hope, and groundedness coalesced into something of a comfort read for me.  The characters contemplate, strategize, and make tough choices,but they don’t live in their heads the way I live in mine, so how the author portrayed their challenges in third-person omniscient narration was refreshing to me.

I also watched Bugonia (Yorgos Lanthimos, 2025) on DVD.  Jesse Plemmons and Emma Stone were cast perfectly.  I didn’t get around to watching it at the theatre and am glad I got it on home video.  The making-of featurette is insightful (I learned about its connection to the Korean film from the early 2000s called Save the Green Planet!).  Much of the film was filmed in and around Atlanta.  I was thrilled to see Fernbank get some screen time over the High Museum.  Yes, the Jackson Street Bridge had to be there, but so was the end-curve of the Spring-Buford Connector behind SCAD.

Bugonia inspired part of a poem.

Pic creds: Barnes & Noble, google street view

You Make It Impossible for Me to Hate You

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If you like to read for fun, inspiration, comfort, education, enlightenment, or to challenge the way you think, you’ve probably experienced the phenomenon where the kind of or specific book you’ve been seeking finds you when you need it.  Up until tonight, I hadn’t seriously considered how this scenario could apply to movies.  Objectively, I know it does, but subjectively, I hadn’t really thought about it.

But then I watched When Harry Met Sally (Rob Reiner, 1989) for the first time ever and realized that I would never have appreciated it at any earlier point in my existence.  I’ve liked other films that Rob Reiner directed and Nora Ephron wrote (and directed), but this one just never piqued my curiosity.  I don’t think I could have appreciated truly the writing or Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan‘s performances because my younger self wanted romantic comedies to be formulaically more like Only You (Norman Jewison, 1994) and Serendipity (Peter Chelsom, 2001) — very goal-oriented not contemplation-and-chemistry-oriented.  I didn’t want romance films to discuss cleverly and profoundly that falling for someone entails more than physical chemistry or emotional safety; it also involves recognizing and accepting all the small habits and preferences a person has that might otherwise repel you. 

I was also pleasantly surprised at the football scene with just one snap, a complete pass from quarterback to tight end, and a tackle.  According to IMDB, some of this scene was filmed at Giants Stadium, Meadowlands Sports Complex in New Jersey in the autumn of 1988.  The film’s end credits include the producers thanking The Buffalo Bill Football Organization and NFL Films.  My educated guess is that NFL Films provided the few seconds of football gameplay where Giants tight-end Mike Bavaro catches the ball and then gets tackled (in case you’re curious, here’s the 1988 New York Giants roster).  Why was The Buffalo Bill Football Organization thanked?  Probably because of this bit of trivia.

I watched When Harry Met Sally on DVD.  It has so many special features and interviews that I’ve barely begun to watch.  It also has an audio commentary with the director, the writer, and Billy Crystal.  

RIP, Rob Reiner.  

Pic creds: IMDB, YouTube screengrab

Finer Lines In Between

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We sat on the ledge of the round balcony a dozen stories above the street.
You removed your hair ties and let your braids loosen as the night breeze swept around us.

You gripped the handle of the red ping pong paddle and insisted I call it “table tennis.”  
You’d won your match that afternoon, the last one for many moons.

Maybe this time your father will let you try a winter sport like skiing or something on the water like rowing.  

Just one more year, then freedom.
Freedom from the pressure of competitive physics wrangling.

Because you never liked table tennis, did you?

You laughed and turned to look at me.  I asked you what’s so funny.
You looked down below at the shiny Cadillac convertibles parallel-parked like sardines
and dropped the red paddle that won you regionals.

Who says there has to be another title? 
Why wait another year?
Freedom is now
on the ledge of this round balcony.

— yiqi 14 December 2025 1:25 am

~!~

I had a conversation with someone the other night and haven’t been able to stop thinking about them.  The image of sitting on a balcony and looking down at some vista below came to me yesterday, but I was too tired to write anything.  And then while watching Cash on Demand (Quentin Lawrence, 1961) on TCM, this prose-poem came to me.  I can’t actually picture this person playing ping pong, but for some reason, that’s the sport that made it into the verse.