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!).