BAM's Max Ophuls series ends tonight with The Exile, an ironically appropriate title. After Ophuls fled his native Germany in 1933, he moved around Europe for a number of years, honing his style in a series of for-hire and cobbled-together productions in various countries. Then he came to Hollywood in the early 40s, a foray that became (though he lived there for a full decade) an even more acute state of limbo: it took him five years to land a directing assignment. (From 1936-1940, he had directed nine films) When he finally got a gig, it was The Exile — a Douglas Fairbanks Jr. swashbuckler about Charles II, living in exile before the Restoration of the English monarchy. The unlikely potboiler genre that marked sophisticate Ophuls's restoration to the director's chair is an interesting prospect: Ophuls loved his extended, fluidly tracking takes — think he knew how to stage a sword fight?
And your post-BAM food and drink recommendation: Hey, sometimes you just want to plop on a barstool, order a pint and a burger, and gaze absently at a flat-screen TV playing a college basketball game you don't care about. Luckily, the relatively new Mullane's is just a hop, skip, jump away. You can't be hip all the time, but you can at least be classy about your middle-American cravings.