The Conformist (1970)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Conformist (1970) -- B. Bertolucci

Without a doubt, I was missing something by watching this on my laptop -- I can only imagine what these stylish images would look like draped across the big screen. Storaro's cinematography marked by the amazing use of light and color is what this film is about -- the story itself (offering to explain why someone might become a Fascist in 1930s Italy because of a childhood incident) left me a little cold, though I can see that its flashback structure is innovative and dreamlike. Having seen it now, I'd like to watch it again in a cinema, just to marvel at how it was put together.

Tabu: A Story of the South Seas (1931)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Tabu: A Story of the South Seas (1931) -- F. W. Murnau

Murnau certainly had an eye for images, here found on Bora Bora and Tahiti, with amazing use of light and framing. Inspired by Flaherty, he uses an all native cast to tell a fabled story of paradise and paradise lost. Surprisingly for 1931 this is relatively noncondescending to the culture in focus (although certainly some aspects are dated). The fable is a simple story and the roles taken also require simplicity in outlook and action. In these symbolic roles, the boy and girl and the sinister leader, Hitu, are all excellent -- only the shark seems fake. Murnau keeps the pace moving along and the viewer is sure to be wowed.

To Be or Not To Be (1942)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

To Be or Not To Be (1942) -- E. Lubitsch

I wouldn't rank this as Lubitsch's greatest (Shop Around the Corner, Ninotchka, Heaven Can Wait, and Trouble in Paradise are all funnier/smoother) but this film scores extra points just for the sheer ballsiness of mixing Hitler and comedy. No one can properly define "The Lubitsch Touch" but for me that feeling you get when the plot mechanism clicks gently into place, exactly as it should (without too much telegraphing or obviousness), mixing amusement and awareness of humanity/darkness, is close. Here, Jack Benny and Carole Lombard play actors who get caught up in defending the Polish Resistance from a Nazi spy using all of their actorly arts and crafts. Pokes a finger in Hitler's eye but was judged to be inappropriate at the time.

Come Drink with Me (1966)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Come Drink with Me (1966) -- K. Hu

Really great wuxia film, photographed in Shaw-Scope and directed by King Hu (who also made the awesome A Touch of Zen). This excels in both story and cinematography -- and who minds a little fake bloodshed resulting from swords, daggers, and poisoned darts? Golden Swallow and Drunken Cat take on an evil gang and in the process preserve the good name of the Green Bamboo Wand School (the leaders of which apparently have super-powers).

High School (1969)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

High School (1969) -- F. Wiseman

Without narration, titles, or any other explicit way to direct the viewer's thinking, Frederick Wiseman edits footage from a Philadelphia high school filmed in 1968 to create a withering portrait of heavy-handed socialization to a certain set of conservative values. Students are shown in their low-powered positions, confronting (or simply submitting to) teachers and administrators who preach to them right from wrong. The camera zooms in on important details (an authoritarian's big ring, nervous fingers of parents or students) that the subjects surely didn't know were under observation and which reveal much (of Wiseman's point of view). As a 21st century viewer (who went to high school in the 80s), I found myself a) thinking that this high school's techniques had only somewhat softened by my time; and b) wondering what sorts of power and control techniques are used in schools today. Perhaps the more things change, the more they stay the same?

Letter from an Unknown Woman (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Letter from an Unknown Woman (1948) -- M. Ophüls

Max Ophüls' film is oh so European, so I wonder how American audiences received it (in 1948). It also fits perfectly into what later shaped up to be his oeuvre, with a dark/stark look at romance told across time in an episodic/flashback structure. The opulence masks the emptiness inside (or doesn't it?). Joan Fontaine loves Louis Jourdan but he is too self-absorbed to notice (most of the time). In truth, I prefer Ophüls' later French films but the style here, light and dark, is tactile and impressive.

Macbeth (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Macbeth (1948) -- O. Welles

This is the fever-dream version of the Scottish play -- expressionistic (although not at Caligari heights), with half-remembered lines and tortured soliloquies (performed entirely inside of the characters' heads). Dark and gloomy with heavy mist and sometimes heavy burrs (and sometimes not), the angst and horror settle in on Lady M and MacB pretty much right away -- Welles is his posturing self but the others sometimes do get lost in the jumble. Out, out, brief candle.

The Big Combo (1955)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Big Combo (1955) -- J. H. Lewis

One of those archetypal films noir that contain all the tics and tropes of the genre (if it is a genre -- this falls into the "lone cop vs. the mob" subtype ruled by The Big Heat). Shadowy (and foggy) cinematography by John Alton, also marked by bright high key lighting of the women-in-distress against a black background, creates the mood. The delivery of most characters (save power-mongering Richard Conte and his henchmen) is strangely flat and the score seems to belong to TV rather than cinema (I was reminded of the Leslie Nielsen Police Squad! series -- as good a spoof as any, in my distant memory) but this is a fine late entry in the noir tradition.

Underworld (1927)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Underworld (1927) -- J. von Sternberg

Pre-Dietrich silent film from von Sternberg is a rather rollicking gangster yarn with a couple of great set-pieces (the mobsters' ball and the final shoot-out, of course). The three or four central characters are larger than life, propelled through this dream-world (of Chicago?) by the usual blunt motives: love and jealousy (but also loyalty). A cut above yer usual silent fare (but not at a Murnau standard).

The Big Knife (1955)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Big Knife (1955) -- R. Aldrich

Bitter tale of a Hollywood star who has let his ideals lapse on the road to success and now wishes to reassert his moral integrity...but the studio won't let him. Jack Palance gives an anguished and intense performance (the opening credits simply show him with his head in his hands) but he is supported by a well-cast array of other stars and character actors. Clifford Odets wrote the original play and the dialogue can get wild and woolly -- ultimately, it might be a bit stage-bound but director Robert Aldrich and especially the psychotronic soundtrack by DeVol keep things punchy.

Uncle Boonmee Who Can Remember His Past Lives (2010)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Uncle Boonmee Who Can Remember His Past Lives (2010) -- Apichatpong Weerasethakul

Set at a slow but relaxing pace (many scenes occur in a dark green dusk), Apichatpong's Cannes-winning film is full of magical and mundane happenings. In fact, it is the inter-mixture of the ordinary and the supernatural, seemingly unsurprising to characters in this NE Thailand setting, that is most striking and gives the film its surreal and playful quality. Ostensibly the plot focuses on Uncle Boonmee's slow death from kidney failure but not everything fits easily into a linear narrative. If you enter prepared, you may see wonders.

3:10 to Yuma (1957)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

3:10 to Yuma (1957) -- D. Daves

Perfect Sunday afternoon fare. Glenn Ford turns on the charm as a notorious villain caught by a bunch of bumbling Western types led by struggling farmer Van Heflin. The gimmick is that Heflin will get the $200 he needs to bring water to his land if he can escort Ford to the train station (going to Yuma) without losing him or getting killed by his 12-man gang. Good gimmick and keeps the film ticking away at a tense pace. (I'm not interested in the Russell Crowe remake).

Kuroneko (1968)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Kuroneko (1968) -- K. Shindo

Highly stylized (in high contrast black and white) Japanese ghost story that pulls no punches in its portrayal of wronged women who seek revenge (on all samurai) after their deaths.  Of course, the samurai who is charged with defeating them (by his clan leader with the funny mustache) finds himself strangely compromised. Shindo's tale is almost minimalist in its starkness with all the action taking place at the Rashomon gate, the spirits' house of screens and timber, or a dark bamboo grove. A spooky folktale (kaidan).

Rewatched 16/10/2020. This time, in addition to the horror elements, I thought about the historical context and the way the powerful may always exploit the powerless (and the powerless may seek to become powerful and lose their empathy). Also, Freudians won't be disappointed.

Dracula: Pages from a Virgin's Diary (2002)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Dracula: Pages from a Virgin's Diary (2002) -- G. Maddin

If you wanted to film a staged ballet, this is the way to do it:  Hire Guy Maddin!  The Canadian filmmaker rips apart the footage (Super 8 and other formats) and edits it back together in a delirious montage, processing it to one inch from death (or beyond -- this is the story of Dracula, after all) so that it looks like a silent film with faux tinting in phantastic colors with blurry edges and stark contrast.  A few sustained dances creep in but this is largely an exercise in assemblage. The well-known story is given a few tweaks and it doesn't hurt that it takes place in the Victorian era, a Maddin specialty.

A Hard Day's Night (1964)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

A Hard Day's Night (1964) -- R. Lester

Of all the Beatles movies I've seen, this is the best, for its freshness.  Richard Lester lends a raw feel through a partly cinema verite approach (aided by B&W) and partly through jump cuts and other "new" editing techniques.  Sure, the plot is hackneyed but that doesn't get in the way of the youthful feel and the unfettered fab four. Their early songs are really from another time now.

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964) -- J. Demy

Very French.  All of the dialogue is sung (although some exchanges can verge on scat). Michel Legrand's central themes are well known. Demy has an eye for color.  Deneuve is so young. The plot is so sad.  Those strings, those strings.  Romantics beware, this artifice is closer to life (c'est la guerre).

You Only Live Once (1937)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You Only Live Once (1937) -- F. Lang

The deck is stacked against Henry Fonda as an ex-con trying to go straight and coming up against stigma and reduced opportunities at every turn. Fortunately, he's got Sylvia Sidney to love and support him. However, things take a turn for the worse when he's accused of a bank robbery in which six innocent people died. Suddenly Fritz Lang takes us from an ordinary social problem picture (of sorts) onto death row and then into Bonnie & Clyde territory. His expressionistic skiils serve him well and there are some amazing chiaroscuro shots, foreshadowing the film noir movement to come (in style and theme).

The Tall T (1957)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Tall T (1957) -- B. Boetticher

Randolph Scott is as stoic and cool a customer as ever got crossed by bad guys in the West. From a story by Elmore Leonard and directed by Budd Boetticher, Scott keeps his moral center when he happens into a robbery/kidnapping even as others turn yellow. He manages to bring Maureen O'Sullivan out of her shell too. Shot in some amazing rocky terrain (also used in Seven Men From Now, I think) and full of good performances.

Mr. Hulot's Holiday (1953)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Mr. Hulot's Holiday (1953) -- J. Tati

Monsieur Hulot (Jacques Tati) is one of those nonchalant friendly but bumbling characters who lays waste to everything orderly about him (demonstrating the principle of entropy?). The film that encases him (in his first of several appearances) is virtually dialogue-less, or at least the dialogue doesn't matter much, and thus it takes on the shape of a series of silent clown set-pieces a la Keaton or Chaplin.  Tati (who also wrote and directed) pays excruciating attention to the framing of shots, sound effects on the sound track, and the mise en scene as a whole, giving the viewer the sense that the chaos on screen is the product of well-ordered construction indeed. Charmingly French music too.

The Wrong Man (1956)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Wrong Man (1956) -- A. Hitchcock

Is this Hitchcock's first horror film? Henry Fonda is accused of a crime he didn't commit and, following cinematic trends of the time, goes through all the dignity-reducing processes of our legal system in neorealist fashion. Well, not exactly, because Hitchcock can't resist some expressionistic touches. Although you can sense Hitch's real fear of the police, it is hard to know whether he sees the power of Fonda's belief in God as literally as he seems to. Pretty grim throughout, especially as we see the effects on Fonda's family (Vera Miles, particularly).

Two or Three Things I Know About Her (1967)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Two or Three Things I Know About Her (1967) -- J.-L. Godard

Is there no one today doing anything as radical as what Jean-Luc Godard did in the Sixties who is still attracting the critical (and popular?) attention that he did?  Two or Three Things is a transitional film for JLG, moving him from his more narrative features to the pure dialectical essay film.  This halfway point may represent his most intellectually stimulating period, merging beauty and design and a partial narrative (a wife engages in prostitution to supplement the family budget) with a fervor for critical sociological theories about language, meaning, ways of seeing and thinking. And of course, class, consumerism, Vietnam, and French politics. Fascinating, but I need the annotated version.

Napoleon (1927)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Napoleon (1927) -- A. Gance

I balked a bit at the prospect of a 3 1/2 hour silent film (which is also why Greed is still waiting) but Napoleon truly won me over.  Of course the restoration by Robert A. Harris (sponsored by Coppola and many others) is breathtaking, but takes nothing away from Abel Gance's 1927 achievement.  This is an experimental film with fantastic editing, hand-held camera work, superimpositions, hand-tinting, plus an amazing use of widescreen triptychs at the end (yes, three screens, sometimes in panorama, sometimes showing different things).  This would be boring for 230 minutes but it's not -- instead, Gance propels the narrative forward with Napoleon's ups and downs, starting in childhood but then rapidly skipping to his early triumphs, time in jail during the Reign of Terror, and then rehabilitation as a leading general.  The only drawback was my knowledge of French history was sometimes lacking (however, I was more likely to feel educated than confused).  An amazing masterpiece.

The Big Sleep (1946)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Big Sleep (1946) -- H. Hawks

My latest theory about why Howard Hawks' version of Chandler's The Big Sleep is so rewatchable has to do with its largely incomprehensible plot.  I think the brain is tricked into not remembering (and therefore not becoming bored with) the details of the film (which I have watched year after year) because things don't add up.  Yet, The Big Sleep is still compelling as a series of snappy banters written for Bogie and Bacall interspersed between the great set-pieces that provide the noir atmosphere.  Although not as dark as the later noirs to come, for the private eye genre, this (and The Maltese Falcon) really top the heap. My highest honors.

T-Men (1947)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

T-Men (1947) -- A. Mann

Anthony Mann teams up with cinematographer John Alton to create an archetypal film noir (falling into Paul Schrader's theoretical middle period where police procedurals and "realism" came to the fore -- here we see an actual Treasury official introduce the story). Dennis O'Keefe is undercover to break a counterfeiting ring -- and finds himself in a lot of danger. All shadows and fog, uh, I mean steam.

The Descendants (2011)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Descendants (2011) -- A. Payne

I've enjoyed Alexander Payne's films (Sideways, Election, etc.) so I picked this up even though I am generally over-saturated with George Clooney at this point.  Here, he plays the dad who is coping with his wife in a coma and his 10 and 17 yr old daughters in Hawaii where they live (and are descendants of the original indigenous royalty). Payne keeps things gently rolling (or is that the Hawaiian music?) and Clooney provides a very low-key almost one-note performance (perhaps too low-key?).  I did feel a few times that I was watching something meant to be therapeutic, as the script investigated the characters' relationships to each other and exposed their general humanness.  But eventually I was won over, probably by the Ozu-like interludes that allow for (but do not demand) reflection and the not entirely predictable course of action.

Hard-Boiled (1992)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Hard-Boiled (1992) -- J. Woo

Not for the squeamish or faint-of-heart, John Woo pulls out all the stops as he directs reckless cop Chow Yun-Fat to take on an unscrupulous arms dealer (is there any other kind?) who has a secret hideout in the basement of a hospital. Cue action set-piece in the maternity ward. Tony Leung plays the undercover cop struggling to break the case from the inside. (Of these two mega-stars, Tony's profile continues to rise in Hong Kong and with his work for Wong Kar-Wai whereas Chow Yun-Fat's Hollywood adventure seems to have been a flop and so too with John Woo). But back to Hard-Boiled: it is a heavily-stylized (slow motion, candy coloured) ultra-violent (but videogame-like) all action movie. In between the shoot-em-ups, the two stars emote and deliver the kind of sappy lines that Woo often gives to his tough guy leads. Woo himself puts in a very low key appearance as a jazz club owner.

The Palm Beach Story (1942)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Palm Beach Story (1942) -- P. Sturges

Joel McCrea and Claudette Colbert play Tom and Gerry Jeffers who are in love but about to get a divorce (making this likely to be one of those screwball comedies of remarriage, often discussed). You see, Gerry has some feminine wiles that she'd like to use to help Tom with his business (he's an inventor), but he's too scrupulous (and jealous) to let that happen. So, she up and leaves to Palm Beach to get a divorce and marry a richer guy (with Rudy Vallee, the richest guy, as the most likely candidate). The Wienie King funds her trip and then Tom's trip to win her back. Should I mention that this was written and directed by Preston Sturges? As such, you should know that you are in for a wry and ridiculous treat. Quite possibly, there is no logical route out of the romantic dilemma created here, unless...(well, I won't tip you to a screenwriter's safely guarded tricks of the trade).

Stage Door (1937)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Stage Door (1937) -- G. La Cava

Very cozy comedy drama about young women in a NYC boarding house hoping to make it on Broadway. Ginger Rogers is queen of the wisecracks and Katharine Hepburn is the rich girl slumming it to have a more authentic experience. The 1930s seem so different from today -- I can't even imagine that a place like the Footlights Club (boarding house) still exists. However, David Lynch does use Ann Miller (only 14 years old here) perfectly in Mulholland Dr, renting out cottages to Hollywood hopefuls, and thereby echoing the seamier side of Stage Door (where Adolphe Menjou's producer/exploiter is almost played for laughs).

Fox and his Friends (1974)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Fox and his Friends (1974) -- R. W. Fassbinder

Fassbinder turns his camera on himself, as he stars as Fox, a naive blue-collar guy who wins the lottery and then gets exploited by snooty upper-class friends. Fassbinder felt that the fact that his story takes place within gay circles and the prime exploiter is a boyfriend actually softened the melodrama, although I'm not sure of that.  Obviously, the real focus is on class differences and we are led to feel closer to the friendly supportive guys in the dive bar. Fassbinder's eye for color and some clever set-pieces and shots (such as a great one in a mirror) are already in good form (in 1974).  He makes great use of full frontal male nudity, by positioning it in a distracting way just off-center in the frame in one great scene when you are supposed to be paying attention to another character speaking.  Another strong film in this amazing canon.

This Island Earth (1955)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

This Island Earth (1955) -- J. M. Newman

Fully prepared for campy schlock (possibly of the most boring kind), instead I found This Island Earth to be a fairly gripping episode of proto-Star Trek (the original TV series).  Sure, we've got 1950s acting styles, dated technology, and actors never seen again, but sympathy is created for Exeter, the man from the planet under attack, who needs Earth's atomic energy scientists to help him sustain a force field shield. After a rather too long prelude, things go from weird to wonderful, especially in the art-directed exteriors of Metaluna.  As a double feature with Forbidden Planet (which it was), it couldn't be beat. 

All That Heaven Allows (1955)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

All That Heaven Allows (1955) -- D. Sirk

The scope of this melodrama may seem small  -- after all it centers exclusively on rich widow Jane Wyman and her loneliness and then love for a younger blue-collar man, Rock Hudson -- but Douglas Sirk still brings the strings and sweeps us from joy to tears. And who could miss the explicit critique of American society here? From the keeping up with the Jones mentality and its wicked gossip to the bedrock values underlying the need to succeed financially, Sirk rejects them all. Hudson is adamantly his own man, not interested in money or social status, and he is younger, freer, and therefore rejected by Wyman's family and bitchy circle.  Fassbinder remade this in Germany using an inter-racial relationship and an even wider age gap, but of course he was able to do explicitly what Sirk could only do more subtly (with good use of framing, colored lighting, and shadows to underscore his themes).  Like "Imitation of Life" and "Written on the Wind", this is a much more cutting film than 1950s audiences may have realized.

Ringu (1998)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Ringu (1998) -- H. Nakata

Perhaps not quite as scary on the third or fourth viewing, but Ringu still evokes a sense of spookiness and dread that is hard to forget. If you haven't seen this tale of the videotape that when watched leads to a mysterious and horrific death in 7 days, then surely you should.  There is an American version (The Ring) that puts the plot together in a much more matter-of-fact way but it loses the mysterious essence of the Japanese version.  To say more would be criminal -- except that now I have to watch Ringu 2 again, as it may be even more scary.

The Godfather (1972)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Godfather (1972) -- F. F. Coppola

Revisited after 20 years and now on blu-ray, The Godfather really is as good as they say.  I was reluctant to give Coppola's much heralded blockbuster five stars, but his direction is masterful (not showy, but perfect in its moods and mise en scene). Brando shows why he was considered such a talent and Pacino underplays everything (which is pretty amazing considering his subsequent rip-roaring style).  Ah yes, this is a tale of an Italian-American crime family and their efforts to stay on top of the gangster hierarchy.  Some say it is a metaphor for capitalism and it isn't too much of a stretch to see Michael Corleone's ruthless actions as akin to the hits carried out by Wall Street in hostile takeovers everyday.  They make you an offer you can't refuse -- and it's business, not personal.

Knife in the Water (1962)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Knife in the Water (1962) -- R. Polanski

Often beautiful to look at it in sumptuous black and white, Polanski's first film, a three-hander, already maintains a chilly distance from the characters. The distance between the characters is also probed, as two men (husband and the young hitchhiker) variously brag about their abilities or show off in front of the wife.  The camera catches the sunlight and provides a tactile sense of reality, but everything is surfaces and, in the end, no one has been let inside.

The Tree of Wooden Clogs (1978)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Tree of Wooden Clogs (1978) -- E. Olmi

There's a spirit of community here in the simple lives of Olmi's turn-of-the-previous-century peasants that seems totally lost today (and perhaps was already lost when the film was made in 1978).  However, the hard work and hardships endured then surely required a collective orientation and some compassion (which might also be welcome today). Watching this film, you will experience a year in the lives of a few families, centered on the rhythms and routines of the earth, no real plot, just rich and detailed anecdotes, lovingly recreated. The Tree of Wooden Clogs is nearly a documentary, with no flashy camerawork and only non-professional actors who are so submerged into the context that they don't even get names (at least none that were subtitled).

Le Silence de la Mer (1947)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Le Silence de la Mer (1947) -- J.-P. Melville

Melville's first film is very good indeed.  Drawn from a popular short story circulated by the French Resistance during WWII, it depicts a German officer taking forced lodging with an elderly French man and his niece.  The German is full of romantic notions of a merger of French poetry and literature with German classical music, a marriage of two cultures, and although the man and his niece refuse to speak to him or even acknowledge his presence, he delivers them nightly monologues that make him a sympathetic character.  Unfortunately, the reality of the Nazis' aims is eventually made clear and the German is seriously disillusioned.  Melville's attention to small details (and sounds) is already apparent and he decorates the film with expressionistic touches (point of view shots, close-ups of eyes, distant views of Chartres, etc).

Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Moonrise Kingdom (2012) -- W. Anderson

Wes Anderson's latest provides a nice summary of his tics and tropes. "Whimsical" is the word I'm seeing everywhere, but really this is like a masterclass in film technique with an emphasis on costumes and set-design. Anderson uses incredibly staged long shots with deep focus in bright colors or the classic tracking shot that moves through the sets or locations with or without the characters. This look at two 12 year olds (misfits?) falling in love, running away, and being hunted down,  is sweet and witty and full of the right amount of awkwardness.  The big stars (Bill Murray, Bruce Willis, Edward Norton, Frances McDormand, Harvey Keitel, Tilda Swinton) are not the story here -- these kids are great!

The Sorrow and the Pity (1971)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Sorrow and the Pity (1971) -- M. Ophuls

Marcel Ophuls provides little explicit commentary and lets his interviewees speak for themselves in this 4 hour oral history of one town (Clermont-Ferrand) in Occupied France during WWII.  Nevertheless, the story that unfolds is one of complicity with the invading Nazis and neighbor turning against neighbor -- hence, the title: both sorrow and pity are felt toward the French. As Anthony Eden (former British PM) comments, unless your country has been occupied by a foreign power, you are in no position to judge how people respond to this unfortunate situation. It is tragic in its humanity.  A better knowledge of French history might have increased the insights on offer to me, but my interest in social psychology made this a fascinating (if saddening) watch.

Ugetsu Monogatari (1953)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Ugetsu Monogatari (1953) -- K. Mizoguchi

Mizoguchi's classic probably deserves to be seen on the big screen (and not the small one).  I can only imagine how the peasant village, the fog on Lake Biwa, the haunted mansion and other period sets might look sprawled on that large canvas in the dark. Mizoguchi excels at the long shot, keeping his characters in context, as we watch them buffeted by forces (sometimes supernatural forces) beyond their control (but unleashed through their own actions).  We follow two couples: Genjuro and his wife Miyagi who are potters and have a small son and Tobei and his wife Ohama who are laborers.  Genjuro hopes to get rich by selling his wares during wartime when prices are high; Tobei dreams of becoming a samurai.  Both end up abandoning their wives in their quests for money/power and find themselves somewhat quixotically achieving sexual and military conquests.  Their wives suffer horribly (a Mizoguchi trademark) and, in the end, so do the husbands. This is a ghost story but that is only one part of the tapestry that Mizoguchi weaves of feudal Japan. The natural world that humans have constructed is just as devastating.

Black Narcissus (1947)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Black Narcissus (1947) -- M. Powell & E. Pressburger

A perennial favorite, now with extra detail and more appropriate technicolor on blu-ray. The Archers, Powell and Pressburger, score a bullseye with this adaptation of Rumer Godden's tale of nuns transplanted to the Himalayas.  Of course, they slowly go crazy, due to culture shock, altitude, what have you.  Beautiful to watch and full of the heightened emotions that seem so extreme in these otherwise repressed Brits. There are a few glimpses of the attitudes of the times (toward the "primitive" locals) but generally these beliefs can be attributed to the characters not the filmmakers. This is a must see (for art direction alone!).

Room 237 (2012)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Room 237 (2012) -- R. Ascher

Although they are not conspiracy theorists (OK, mostly not conspiracy theorists -- one of them believes that Kubrick staged the moon landing), the 5 interviewees (Kubrick decoders) who provide the voice-overs that _are_ this film are a pretty obsessive bunch (John Fell Ryan from Excepter among them). Their sacred text is The Shining and they have found endlessly fascinating cryptic clues to its meanings lurking in each shot, or the differences between two shots, or the impossible topography of the Overlook Hotel, or the posters and pictures on the walls in the background, or missing chairs (and other faux continuity errors), suggesting mythological minotaurs in the labyrinth, Freudian dilemmas, the genocide of native Americans, the Holocaust, and yes, the faked moon landing footage. And these guys are the tip of the iceberg (I shit you not -- take a look around the internet). Rodney Ascher uses clips from The Shining and a million other movies to illustrate their points and perhaps poke a little fun at them. I had a great time watching this at the Melbourne International Film Festival.

Judex (1963)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Judex (1963) -- G. Franju

Georges Franju keeps things zipping along in this loving homage to French silent serials (with sound). No cliffhangers, but enough sudden plot twists to keep the average viewer rooted to their seat (the fact that these are often unexplained keeps a good level of absurdity in play, which I like). Franju has an eye for composition and a deft hand with tracking shots. The costumes are surreal and sexy. Worth the price of admission -- two bits (or is it two francs)!

Midnight in Paris (2011)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Midnight in Paris (2011) -- W. Allen

I've only slowly returned to Woody Allen, after so many seemingly inconsequential films in a row. But I'm glad I did. Perhaps Midnight in Paris caught me in the right mood, in need of a pick-me-up and a reminder of the special role of art in this occasionally brain-bruising world. I was willing to take the trip to Paris with Owen Wilson (and even before the opening credits, I was dazzled by the montage of Parisian sights) and this film cast a magic spell over me as well as him.