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EchoPlex

Starting to Get Obsessed
Jun 9, 2023
136
965
You saw it in a theatre? I ask because I want to stream it, but in my region it hasn't been released yet—but I hope someone can prove me wrong.

Yeah, the theater. It just came out, but I'm guessing it will be available for early streaming/in-home purchase in the next month.
 
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jpmcwjr

Lifer
May 12, 2015
26,281
30,316
Carmel Valley, CA
Not sure if it can be streamed, but a beautiful movie called Songcatcher from 2001 has Aidan Quinn smoking a pipe.
It can't be found on the major streamers right now. But here's a synopsis:


"After being denied a promotion at the university where she teaches, Doctor Lily Penleric, a brilliant musicologist, impulsively visits her sister, who runs a struggling rural school in Appalachia. There she stumbles upon the discovery of her life - a treasure trove of ancient Scots-Irish ballads, songs that have been handed down from generation to generation, preserved intact by the seclusion of the mountains. With the goal of securing her promotion, Lily ventures into the most isolated areas of the mountains to collect the songs and finds herself increasingly enchanted."
 

Trainpipeman

Can't Leave
Feb 4, 2021
495
1,840
Rhode Island
@Trainpipeman @jpmcwjr My cabin just outside Hot Springs is the site of where parts of that movie, Songcatcher, was filmed. It was all set in Hot Springs also. When you drive through Hot Springs you will see those placards pointing out each of the character's homes or where such and such happened from that movie.
It's really a good movie.

Thanks @cosmicfolklore. Yes, It was a beautiful story set in beautiful surroundings. If ever we are in Hot Springs, we will be looking for those landmarks!
 
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Thanks @cosmicfolklore. Yes, It was a beautiful story set in beautiful surroundings. If ever we are in Hot Springs, we will be looking for those landmarks!
If you’re a bluegrass fan, read up on Bascom Lamar Lunsford. He is from the same mountain. He is also my wife’s great great grandfather. (Not sure how many greats). But, he is the father of bluegrass and he brought the banjo down from the mountains to the Grand Ol Opry. You will see statues and placards to him in Ashville and Hot Springs as well. They should make a movie about him also.
 

LeafErikson

Lifer
Dec 7, 2021
2,195
19,222
Oregon
The Dueslists has hella pipe smoking but it's mostly clays with maybe a meerschaum or two. Lots of cavalier style pipes. I just watched it the other day and really enjoyed it. I think it was Ridley Scott's first movie.
 

VDL_Piper

Lifer
Jun 4, 2021
1,500
14,609
Tasmania, Australia
Australian comedy about lawn bowls of all things. Cliff Carew is a character in this move who its often seen smoking a pipe, various shapes and sizes but quite often a Peterson System. Very funny movie and worth a watch if you can find it.
Unknown.jpeg
 
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jpmcwjr

Lifer
May 12, 2015
26,281
30,316
Carmel Valley, CA
Australian comedy about lawn bowls of all things. Cliff Carew is a character in this move who its often seen smoking a pipe, various shapes and sizes but quite often a Peterson System. Very funny movie and worth a watch if you can find it.
View attachment 264886
Also sent in a request to be notified. (I have a lawn bowling pitch where I live.)

Synopis:

"When dwindling membership and increasing overheads makes a local bowling club a prime candidate for a takeover, it's all hands on deck to save the club, in what turns into an epic battle where young meets old, greed meets good and people rise to the occasion in extraordinary circumstances."
 
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Searock Fan

Lifer
Oct 22, 2021
2,208
6,053
Southern U.S.A.
It can't be found on the major streamers right now. But here's a synopsis:


"After being denied a promotion at the university where she teaches, Doctor Lily Penleric, a brilliant musicologist, impulsively visits her sister, who runs a struggling rural school in Appalachia. There she stumbles upon the discovery of her life - a treasure trove of ancient Scots-Irish ballads, songs that have been handed down from generation to generation, preserved intact by the seclusion of the mountains. With the goal of securing her promotion, Lily ventures into the most isolated areas of the mountains to collect the songs and finds herself increasingly enchanted."
For you guys who do torrents....

 

daveinlax

Charter Member
May 5, 2009
2,093
3,038
WISCONSIN
In theaters, The Holdovers. The Lead character Paul Giamatti smokes a large billiard/apple with gusto throughout the movie. I couldn't ID the pipe but it was uncharacteristically large and blonde with sort of a Peterson looking taper stem.
 

K.E. Powell

Part of the Furniture Now
Aug 20, 2022
590
2,185
37
West Virginia
In theaters, The Holdovers. The Lead character Paul Giamatti smokes a large billiard/apple with gusto throughout the movie. I couldn't ID the pipe but it was uncharacteristically large and blonde with sort of a Peterson looking taper stem.
I just watched this movie earlier today, and it is utterly excellent. Elegaic and mirthful in its sentiments, but never sentimental, it is a film that harkens back to an era of film-making before CGI and "meta" narratives dominated. I highly recommend everyone to go see it if they can.

As to the pipe, it looked like a large straight billiard to me. Not sure if it was a Peterson, though. It may have been. The stain on the pipe looked more like a classic walnut/dark brown color than blonde. Either way, it fits the character and time period of the film.
 
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VDL_Piper

Lifer
Jun 4, 2021
1,500
14,609
Tasmania, Australia
8F3AB63E-9379-4EBA-AA34-6E1B8B4C1A65.jpeg
Another great Australian movie with its fair share of pipe smoking. It’s the Man From Snowy River and is the story of a great Australian stockman. His amazing ride is the back ground to this story and AB “Banjo” Paterson wrote a poem about it which was printed in the Bulletin 21st December 1889. Here is the poem for context

The Man from Snowy River

There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around
That the colt from Old Regret had got away,
And had joined the wild bush horses — he was worth a thousand pound,
So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.
All the tried and noted riders from the stations near and far
Had mustered at the homestead overnight,
For the bushmen love hard riding where the wild bush horses are,
And the stock-horse snuffs the battle with delight.

There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won the cup,
The old man with his hair as white as snow;
But few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly up —
He would go wherever horse and man could go.
And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand,
No better horseman ever held the reins;
For never horse could throw him while the saddle-girths would stand,
He learnt to ride while droving on the plains.

And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy beast,
He was something like a racehorse undersized,
With a touch of Timor pony — three parts thoroughbred at least —
And such as are by mountain horsemen prized.
He was hard and tough and wiry — just the sort that won’t say die —
There was courage in his quick impatient tread;
And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye,
And the proud and lofty carriage of his head.

But still so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to stay,
And the old man said, “That horse will never do
For a long and tiring gallop — lad, you’d better stop away,
Those hills are far too rough for such as you.”
So he waited sad and wistful — only Clancy stood his friend —
“I think we ought to let him come,” he said;
“I warrant he’ll be with us when he’s wanted at the end,
For both his horse and he are mountain bred.”

“He hails from Snowy River, up by Kosciusko’s side,
Where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough,
Where a horse’s hoofs strike firelight from the flint stones every stride,
The man that holds his own is good enough.
And the Snowy River riders on the mountains make their home,
Where the river runs those giant hills between;
I have seen full many horsemen since I first commenced to roam,
But nowhere yet such horsemen have I seen.”

So he went — they found the horses by the big mimosa clump —
They raced away towards the mountain’s brow,
And the old man gave his orders, “Boys, go at them from the jump,
No use to try for fancy riding now.
And, Clancy, you must wheel them, try and wheel them to the right.
Ride boldly, lad, and never fear the spills,
For never yet was rider that could keep the mob in sight,
If once they gain the shelter of those hills.”

So Clancy rode to wheel them — he was racing on the wing
Where the best and boldest riders take their place,
And he raced his stock-horse past them, and he made the ranges ring
With the stockwhip, as he met them face to face.
Then they halted for a moment, while he swung the dreaded lash,
But they saw their well-loved mountain full in view,
And they charged beneath the stockwhip with a sharp and sudden dash,
And off into the mountain scrub they flew.

Then fast the horsemen followed, where the gorges deep and black
Resounded to the thunder of their tread,
And the stockwhips woke the echoes, and they fiercely answered back
From cliffs and crags that beetled overhead.
And upward, ever upward, the wild horses held their way,
Where mountain ash and kurrajong grew wide;
And the old man muttered fiercely, “We may bid the mob good day,
No man can hold them down the other side.”

When they reached the mountain’s summit, even Clancy took a pull,
It well might make the boldest hold their breath,
The wild hop scrub grew thickly, and the hidden ground was full
Of wombat holes, and any slip was death.
But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head,
And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer,
And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down its bed,
While the others stood and watched in very fear.

He sent the flint stones flying, but the pony kept his feet,
He cleared the fallen timber in his stride,
And the man from Snowy River never shifted in his seat —
It was grand to see that mountain horseman ride.
Through the stringy barks and saplings, on the rough and broken ground,
Down the hillside at a racing pace he went;
And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound,
At the bottom of that terrible descent.

He was right among the horses as they climbed the further hill,
And the watchers on the mountain standing mute,
Saw him ply the stockwhip fiercely, he was right among them still,
As he raced across the clearing in pursuit.
Then they lost him for a moment, where two mountain gullies met
In the ranges, but a final glimpse reveals
On a dim and distant hillside the wild horses racing yet,
With the man from Snowy River at their heels.

And he ran them single-handed till their sides were white with foam.
He followed like a bloodhound on their track,
Till they halted cowed and beaten, then he turned their heads for home,
And alone and unassisted brought them back.
But his hardy mountain pony he could scarcely raise a trot,
He was blood from hip to shoulder from the spur;
But his pluck was still undaunted, and his courage fiery hot,
For never yet was mountain horse a cur.

And down by Kosciusko, where the pine-clad ridges raise
Their torn and rugged battlements on high,
Where the air is clear as crystal, and the white stars fairly blaze
At midnight in the cold and frosty sky,
And where around the Overflow the reedbeds sweep and sway
To the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide,
The man from Snowy River is a household word to-day,
And the stockmen tell the story of his ride.
 
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