Cave of Forgotten Dreams (2010)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Cave of Forgotten Dreams (2010) -- W. Herzog

Herzog's latest film is an EVENT movie, requiring attendance at the cinema, otherwise you might never see the sensitively rendered prehistoric paintings of Chauvet Cave in 3D (as they must be seen, because you'll never be allowed inside yourself and 2D just wouldn't do). Although somewhat subdued, Herzog's probing intelligence and pleasure in absurdity (the master perfumer?) are here and he is occasionally playful (although not "in your face") in his use of the technology (a spear, a bird, a bug, a branch, and a man asking us to be quiet protrude from the screen). Overall, though, the ecstatic truth resounds from the paintings themselves and what they tell us about us; Herzog's presence is just the icing on the cake.

The Last Picture Show (1972)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Last Picture Show (1972) -- P. Bogdanovich

Judging by Bogdanovich's later career, this amazing picture seems almost an accident of fate (or the unique convergence of talents). A tale of small town Texas and the human relationships (social and sexual) therein. It feels authentic or naturalistic but this is probably a product of the superb acting carrying the script (which skirts the edge of melodrama and hits the downbeat). Jeff Bridges and Cybil Shepherd are so young; Ben Johnson, Cloris Leachman, and Ellen Burstyn all won awards, justifiably.

The Scarlet Empress (1934)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Scarlet Empress (1934) -- J. von Sternberg

My, there seem to be a lot of shots of horses and references to horses (even one early line, "we could have the horses stabled in your bedroom, if you like" or something like that, which is shocking taken out of context, as it is here) in von Sternberg's biopic about Catherine the Great (really, even at the end, Marlene Dietrich is on the throne with her arm around a horse who is nuzzling her). But of course von Sternberg couldn't have been fooling with the Hays Office censors, could he? The rest of the movie simply focuses on how Catherine uses her sexual resources to get the army to help her overthrow her imbecilic husband, Peter the III. So, in 1934, the censors weren't paying much attention. And von Sternberg shoots Dietrich through gauze, on beds, amongst crazy statuary, and in front of mock Russian icons, with characters who don't care that they have heavy American accents, with the 1812 overture playing during the 1750s, and just makes a crazy baroque thing.

Days of Heaven (1978)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Days of Heaven (1978) – T. Malick

Pictorially amazing and with the most amazing editing, featuring a lot of cuts to shots of movement and then layers of movement within shots (how do I describe this -- must be seen!). The story is somewhat incidental to the full experience of beauty here (laborer Gere cooks up a plan that involves his girlfriend marrying rich farmer Sam Shepard who is supposedly dying). Using Nestor Almendros and Haskell Wexler must have helped to give Malick the kino eye here.

Rififi Chez Les Hommes (1954)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Rififi Chez Les Hommes (1954) – J. Dassin

Ah, the Parisian gangster flick -- so many great ones. Here, the aging Jean Servais masterminds a (soundless) jewel heist. His world-weariness is impressive but underneath that tough cynical exterior, he is loyal and even affectionate (except when he beats his girlfriend -- not good). Generally, I prefer Melville over Dassin (but I won't forget Touchez Pas Au Grisbi by Becker in my list of greats either).

My Night at Maud's (1969)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

My Night at Maud's (1969) -- E. Rohmer

My first Rohmer. This is a scintillating treatise on religion, sex, chance, and fate that is, admittedly, mostly talk. The unnamed central character (Trintignant) spends an absorbing night with a totally disarming woman (Fabian) who might be his perfect match, alleviating his normal reserve, but she is an atheist and he wants to be a practicing Catholic (though his actions do not always conform with the faith's principles). What is most interesting here is trying to figure out how the various philosophical points mesh or do not mesh with the character's decisions -- he does seem more willing to force circumstances to conform to his will than to rely on chance and grace (as he claims). The luminescent cinematography aids and abets Rohmer's focus on naturalistic and conversational detail.

Killer of Sheep (1979)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Killer of Sheep (1979) -- C. Burnett

Lyrical B&W portrait of African-American life in South Central L. A. in the mid-1970s, told in anecdotes with carefully chosen (and apparently not copyright cleared) musical accompaniment. Children feature prominently and a parallel is seemingly drawn between their existence and the lives of the sheep who occupy the abattoir in which the central character works (hence the title). The music also reinforces the sense that America offers no promises or opportunities to these people and that life is a grind ("this bitter earth"). But the movie feels more idyllic than that theme suggests and is certainly worth your while.

L'Atalante (1934)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

L'Atalante (1934) -- J. Vigo

Vigo was only 29 when he died in 1934 with only 2 fiction films and a documentary to his credit. Nevertheless, his reputation as a master filmmaker was established  by these films. His work has been likened to the work of Jean Cocteau because of its ability to create a poetic vision out of relatively mundane scenarios. He also flirts with surrealism here and there (thus, cementing the comparison with Cocteau). L'Atalante (which was rereleased last year) is at its heart a romance. A young couple has just married. He is the captain of a barge (travelling across those man-made rivers in France) and she has never left her small village. She moves onto the boat and the movie is a series of episodes from their life, leading to the inevitable conflict that causes their separation, and their heartwarming reconciliation. Perhaps the most interesting character is the first mate, a salty old dog who's not very bright but means well. He's traveled the world and has a very interesting (astonishing)  assortment of curios in his cabin. At first I was rather put off by his pure coarse and ugly manner but I grew to love him. I especially dug the strangely filmed  "wrestling" scene. This film also features beautiful cinematography with some great shots in stunning black and white. The images are often haunting and mesmerizing even when they are of typically "ugly" things like an industrial wasteland next to a canal. A stunning film that seems to have made the best use of the technology available (without overdoing it, as so often occurs today).  (Original Review, 1997-99)

Hamlet (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Hamlet (1948) – L. Olivier

Twenty years ago (or more) I was immersed in Shakespeare -- and watching Olivier's Hamlet, abridged though it may be, brought back my reading and acting as a distant dream (even though I played Rosencrantz, or was it Guildenstern, who was cut out of this version). Things here are less stagebound than you might expect, with the camera prowling the barren castle's hallways, moving amongst the players, and even venturing outside from time to time. To call it film noir might be too rich, but these dark deeds lend themselves to the shadows and chiaroscuro that noir also used. Stripped to its essence, the bard's great tragedy seems somehow heightened, careening from set piece to set piece, until silence.

The War Game (1965)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The War Game (1965) -- P. Watkins

In Bergman's Winter Light, Max Von Sydow is depressed because the Chinese have the bomb. In Peter Watkins' 48 minute meant-for-the-BBC "documentary", we see what impact an actual nuclear attack would have on Britain. And it is brutal: the costs of evacuation, the actual blast (both heat and shockwaves), firestorms, physical effects of radiation, psychological effects of trauma, dealing with corpses. This is a truly horrific film told in newsreel style as straight reportage. Even today, the doomsday clock stands at 6 minutes to midnight, closer than it was when Watkins made this film...

Histoire(s) du Cinema (1988-1998)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Histoire(s) du Cinema (1988-1998) -- J.-L. Godard

Godard made these short "films" (really handmade videos) between the late '80s and late '90s. They involve the layering and overlapping of multiple stills and clips from film (and art) history along with a dense slathering of text, sometimes read by Godard himself but also read by others. This 3 DVD set contains two sets of subtitles, one for the spoken and written (French) text and the other to try to footnote the source of all of the images (seemingly an impossible task). I've watched a few of the episodes twice now and the text and images are occasionally complementary but more often contrasting. In fact, the whole thing is a gargantuan poetic beast that will take a thousand viewings to understand, if understanding is even possible. The sheer density of it all and the focus required means that I've fallen asleep more than once, with my dreams merging with Godard's flow to create a weird non-reality. Five stars.