The Stranger Within a Woman (1966)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Stranger Within a Woman (1966) – M. Naruse

Melodrama of the highest form from Mikio Naruse – one of his late films and as usual focused on family dynamics when something is going wrong.  In this case, a close family friend’s wife has been killed and this weighs especially heavily on the father, Isao.  So, the film takes elements from the murder mystery and, as things grow dark, from the film noir.  However, Naruse sticks to his strengths and turns this into an investigation of feelings and how they are impacted by obligations to others.  Still, times change and the mid-1960s mean that even Naruse is willing to introduce some startling plot turns to spice things up.  This is the 12^th Naruse film I’ve seen and really you can’t go wrong (try When a Woman Ascends the Stairs or Floating Clouds).   

I can no longer find a clip from this film, so here are some scenes from a variety of Naruse films:

The Big Sky (1951)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Big Sky (1951) – H. Hawks

I think I was ready for a boffo adventure story and this Howard Hawks picture, featuring a group of men traveling up the Missouri River to the Pacific Northwest to do some trading with the Blackfoot Indians, hit the spot.  Kirk Douglas and Dewey Martin star as a couple of rough and ready young guys who join up with Uncle Zeb (Arthur Hunnicutt) and a band of French outdoorsmen for the long journey.  Hawks is great at creating a sense of community and his combination of sets and location shooting make the drama feel almost real.  There are a number of different exciting episodes along the way and of course a love interest in the form of a Blackfoot maid, brought along on the trip.  The relationship between Douglas and Martin – and with the woman Teal Eye – doesn’t always hold together properly.  Viewers likely prefer the adventure story and perhaps Hawks did too.

The Past (2013)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Past (2013) – A. Farhadi

Farhadi’s latest film, set in France and in French, veers directly into Dardennes Brothers territory (although without the physical camera style).  In fact, this film may portray an even more complicated set of moral questions than the films of the famous Belgians, and Farhadi adds an extra layer of complexity by placing all of the moral decisions in the past and showing us only the fallout. Each of the characters is compromised, without a full grasp on the truth (whatever that is), and the future is uncertain for their relationships.  Briefly, the plot is as follows:  Ahmad returns to France from Iran to sign the final divorce paperwork with his ex, Marie, which brings him back into contact with her two kids as well as with her new lover, Samir, and his son.  Her new lover’s wife is in a coma and she may or may not die (they are looking for signs of responsiveness).  The plot unfolds from there – in fact, it just keeps unfolding and unfolding, just as life does.  Ahmad is clearly revisiting his past (having left France and Marie four years earlier) but Farhadi’s reflections on the past’s ability to influence us is much deeper than just showing us this unwelcome/nostalgic intrusion.   Indeed, we are all living with the past even if we are trying to live in the present or plan for the future – it’s just that sometimes it comes to envelop or constrain us.

Boy (1969)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Boy (1969) – N. Oshima

Oshima’s Boy feels a bit like a slap in the face.  Here we see, from the boy’s point of view, a few months in his life.  His Dad and Stepmom have trained him to jump out in front of cars so they can demand money from the unlucky drivers.  He may really get hurt upon occasion.  He often escapes to wander on his own and perhaps into a fantasy land filled with people from outer space.  He’s only 10.  Oshima fills the frame with geometrical shapes and often pushes the boy to the edges.  Some shots feel ugly and unbalanced but others are beautiful in their way.  The family travels all around Japan.  We worry about the boy and his younger brother (only 3) – how will they turn out?  Possibly not good.  Very disconcerting as a film (and worth your time).

Uzak (Distant) (2002)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Uzak (Distant) (2002) – N. B. Ceylan

A meditation of sorts on the distances that people allow to come between them – or that they put there on purpose.  Mahmut is a successful commercial photographer in Istanbul who is visited by his “country cousin” recently out-of-work due to a factory closing in their hometown.  Age and class differences now separate them but Mahmut is also in a funk due to his recent divorce from his wife (who still contacts him despite being remarried and about to move to Canada).  The distance between men and women (although the latter are far and few between) might also be a subtheme here. Yusuf, the cousin, is also unable to find work – his dreams and goals are similarly distant. Ceylan shoots the wintry landscapes and harbor with a sharp eye for stillness and the various hues of grey and blue.  His work wins awards though this is a quiet not grandstanding film.

This is Spinal Tap (1984)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

This is Spinal Tap (1984) – R. Reiner

In an effort to avert my gaze from the horrors of world events and localized cold and flu symptoms, I turned again to one of the few funny comedies of recent decades (and possibly Rob Reiner’s last great movie).  Spinal Tap is Michael McKean, Christopher Guest, and Harry Shearer and together with Reiner (as the erstwhile “rockumentary” maker) and a cast of soon-to-be famous players in bit parts, they riff endlessly on the idea of the heavy metal band (and rock band in general) as it emerged in the 70’s and 80’s.  Even watched for the nth time, the dialogue and episodes depicted here are of such sublime ridiculousness that no other mockumentary can compare (though Guest made a noble effort in the 1990s). Everyone is clearly having fun being as stupid as possible – and it’s funny (not stupid) for the most part.  Even the casual music fan can catch the loving winks at bands that transformed themselves from blues to psychedelia to metal across too-long careers, along with the lip-synched videos, bloated tours, meddling girlfriends, and general chaos and calamity that seemed to follow their egos across time and space.  Expect low budget and accept no substitute (I haven’t bothered to see any of the sequelia).  

About Elly (2009)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

About Elly (2009) – A. Farhadi

The Iranian cinema (that we get to see in the West) has been so astonishing for so long that it feels incredible to find a new Master in Asghar Farhadi (Oscar winner for A Separation). Kiarostami, Makhmalbaf, and Panahi (among others) have managed to incorporate another level to many of their films that asks the viewer to question what she or he is seeing (reality or artifice? truth or fiction?) and that same vein is mined to great effect in About Elly.  Farhadi shows us a group of married friends (with children) from Tehran who decide to visit the Caspian seaside for the weekend.  One of them, Sepideh (played warmly by Golshifteh Farahani), surprises them by bringing along her daughter’s single teacher, Elly, to meet their recently divorced friend Ahmad visiting from Germany.  The lies begin when the holiday villa they were supposed to have booked turns out to be unavailable – and they continue as members of the group routinely keep things from each other (a natural state of affairs) or join in the charade.  A “L’Avventura” styled plot twist opens up even more questions and mysteries descend on the group.  Farhadi does an excellent job of maintaining a high level of tension (almost too high!) and orchestrating a large number of actors, all in the dark, as the film tilts this way and that in search of a resolution.    

High and Low (1963)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

High and Low (1963) – A. Kurosawa

Plausibly there shouldn’t be as many 5-star Kurosawa films as there seem to be.  However, High and Low (Heaven and Hell in the original Japanese) has to be included in the list.  One of the handful of modern day films in his oeuvre, Tengoku to Jigoku is ripped from a police procedural by Ed McBain and is as exciting as any AK film gets.  The film breaks roughly into three parts:  1) a serious drama in which businessman Toshiro Mifune tries to defend his way of making shoes by gaining control of the company, in direct conflict with other scheming executives and his disloyal assistant, but is suddenly faced with the fact that he might have to pay all of the necessary funds as ransom when his chauffeur’s son is kidnaped in place of his own son;  2) a fast-paced investigation by the entire police force led by Inspector Tetsuya Nakadai that eventually frees the boy and identifies the killer; 3) the final trap and capture of the killer, Tsutomo Yamazaki (later Goro in Tampopo), who stalks the seedy underbelly of Yokohama in mirrored shades.  Kurosawa stages it all in widescreen with some incredible compositions that make the most of the bigger canvass (including wide open landscapes as well as a bunch of cops cramming the screen).  As always, viewers are encouraged to see the drama not only from an objective outside perspective but also from the point of view of other characters who are party to the action (in this case, we see the police view of the actions taken by Gondo the shoe executive as well as hearing what the public thinks).  In Kurosawa, there is always an acknowledgement of the multiple ways of seeing reality.  As it should be.

The Magician (1958)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Magician (1958) – I. Bergman

Opening like a Hammer Horror film and then returning to this spooky supernatural world repeatedly throughout the film, Bergman still manages to concentrate on his primary themes of this era.  Max Von Sydow – in disguise – plays the titular Magician who is mute, depleted, unconvinced in his own abilities but yet the show must go on.  The artist here is challenged by his critics who, following the principles of science which deny the “inexplicable” (which is to say beauty, the sublime, the mysteries of art) nearly assassinate him.  Bergman knows that the creation of (spellbinding) art is through use of the artist’s tricks of the trade (smoke and mirrors here) but the effect on the audience is what counts and the artist must not get despondent despite knowing what is behind the curtain.  Despite these deeper themes, the film plays well as an entertainment, luring in viewers and surprising them with a twist at the end.   Beautifully shot and acted, I must add.