Sunday, 23 November 2014

The Shame (1968)


☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½


The Shame (1968) – I. Bergman

Liv Ullmann and Max Von Sydow are civilians who find themselves caught up in war in this astonishingly potent film from Ingmar Bergman.  As the movie opens, we find them alone in their remote island farmhouse. They speak of political tensions and hostilities that seem to have led to some cultural collapse (the symphony orchestra for which they worked has shut down).  But soon convoys of soldiers are rolling through, then fighter planes (which eventually firebomb their area).  After a run-in with the “liberators”, they are rounded up by the “defenders” (my terms) and interrogated (roughly).  They are forced to choose sides and become compromised.  The local resistance group targets them.  Under pressure, they violate their own moral principles.  They fight with each other. Things become bleak and apocalyptic.  In the end, who is ashamed?  Is it God? Is it humankind? Is it world leaders? Is it the characters in the film? Is it you and me? How can such things happen – and continue to happen? 



Man on the Roof (1976)


☆ ☆ ☆ ☆


Man on the Roof (1976) – B. Widerberg

The police procedural has long been the province of TV shows, so it is easy to forget that there are movies that may be able to do things better (for example, on a bigger budget or in a less formulaic way).  I’m thinking of Kurosawa’s High and Low or Fincher’s Zodiac.  But Bo Widerberg’s Man on the Roof, based on one of a series of Swedish crime novels featuring homicide cop Martin Beck and his colleagues, should be ranked highly with them. After a bad police lieutenant is murdered in his hospital bed, the wheels start turning and Beck and his weary team (each given enough attention to have a distinct personality) begin their painstaking investigation.  As usual, they start with interviews of people who might know something, record searches, and, yes, examination of evidence at the crime scene.  Slowly this leads to a suspect, but just as things are at their most dreary (as investigations are wont to get), the film explodes into a different kind of situation requiring strategic action from the police (and giving the film its title).  The cops (and Widerberg) handle things just as methodically as in the early part of the film (although less successfully at times), leading to the (not unexpected) conclusion.  Still, it is absorbing all the way.




Public Housing (1997)


☆ ☆ ☆ ☆


Public Housing (1997) – F. Wiseman


Frederick Wiseman’s sprawling 3-hour look at the Ida B. Wells public housing estate in Chicago gets into a rhythm all its own (due to Wiseman’s expert editing).  Basically, we see Ozu-like moments of cars or people passing through the complex, then a cut to a particular representative episode in the lives of the people who live in or visit public housing.  It is interesting to speculate about how Wiseman chose these episodes and how he ordered them within the film.  For example, we do see the many problems that residents face:  crime, drugs, insect and rat infestations, teen pregnancies, and poverty.  Some of these issues arise in passing and some are shown more directly, as when a court-appointed diagnostician asks one resident some incredibly personal questions about his history with drugs and alcohol.  In keeping with the themes of some of Wiseman’s other movies, the residents often seem to be subjected to some fairly heavy-handed control by authorities, particularly the police who shake down numerous residents, seemingly without need for much justification. However, the control also appears more benignly in the form of some rather paternalistic (though benevolent) programs to assist residents – to avoid unwanted pregnancies, start their own businesses, find meaningful employment, and the like.  Although his films are rarely directive (they are without narration or overt structure), Wiseman is even less emphatic here than usual.  He doesn’t seem to be hitting any themes particularly hard (unlike in Welfare or High School, for example) and the examples of paternalistic control are mixed with episodes that reveal residents to be self-empowered, aiming to fight their own battles (often against bureaucracy) and to improve the moral character of their community (particularly by trying to involve positive male role models in the lives of kids).  In fact, despite the drugs, poverty, and general down-and-out feeling of the environment, one might think that Wiseman feels more optimistic about the future in this film.  The episodes showing empowerment seem to be placed in the second half of the film, perhaps showing them to be a possible solution to the problems shown earlier. He closes with a motivational address from an ex-NBA basketball player, now working for Housing and Urban Development who is trying to empower the residents to work through the system by appealing to the ways in which minority people have succeeded (including to high levels in the Clinton administration).  Although it could be assumed that these inspiring words might go nowhere when people are mired in the day-to-day issues of tough lives, I’m not quite sure Wiseman sees it that way. He never really shows anyone doing bad things (which could, I guess, be unethical) but only people trying to cope with their problematic reality. In any event, Wiseman portrays the subject of public housing in a nuanced and complex way – showing him to be one of the best humanistic documentarians we have.  

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http://www.zipporah.com/films/7

Friday, 7 November 2014

Brighton Rock (1947)


☆ ☆ ☆ ☆


Brighton Rock (1947) – J. Boulting

Sir Richard Attenborough (RIP this year) provides a psychotic turn as an (impossibly) young gang leader in the seaside town of Brighton.  First, he hunts and kills a newspaper reporter who told too much in the press (leading to a gang member's death). Then, in trying to create an alibi, he more or less dominates a young waitress by pretending he is in love with her to make sure she doesn't talk.  Moody and with a good sense of place -- but also suspenseful (like a good detective story) when Hermione Baddeley's character gets on Pinkie's (Dickie's) trail and starts collecting evidence to turn over to the police.  The ending -- some call it a "trick ending" -- is a surprise and I think I like it (everything pushes you to expect something different, which of course must eventually happen anyway).  Graham Greene wrote the original novel and the screenplay here;  Catholicism does play a role.  A very good Brit noir.


Born Yesterday (1950)


☆ ☆ ☆ ☆


Born Yesterday (1950) – G. Cukor


The plot of Garson Kanin's play doesn't seem too subtle -- a brash tycoon trying to buy influence in Washington DC hires a reporter to teach his "dumb blonde" girlfriend to act more properly -- but, in fact, George Cukor's film pulls it off amusingly. The majority of the credit is due to Judy Holliday who won an Oscar for her portrayal of Billie Dawn, the showgirl who may not be as dumb as she seems.  Her delivery is so off-hand and nonchalant that it throws you off your guard and adds a certain naturalism to what is otherwise a tightly scripted affair.  William Holden is excellent as the idealistic political reporter who teaches Billie about Thomas Jefferson, Thomas Paine, and the workings of democracy -- so much so that she comes to realize that her boyfriend is in the process of bribing members of Congress to get his way.  Broderick Crawford is all bluster as the tycoon junk dealer but fulfills his role well.  A bit naive perhaps (when seen from the vantage point of 65 years on) but enjoyable all the way through.


Curse of the Demon (1957)


☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 


Curse of the Demon (1957) – J. Tourneur


One of my favourite films and one that I can watch annually (at Halloween) without it losing any of its fun.  Director Jacques Tourneur was a graduate of the Val Lewton School of Horror film-making, where low budgets necessitated a greater use of shadowy implication rather than explicit or graphic horror (see Cat People or I Walked with a Zombie).  Of course, fast forward to the late 1950s and producer interference forced Tourneur to actually show the Demon (which apparently he did not want to do) – but it makes no difference because the rest of the film is so successful in its spookiness.  The plot sees Dana Andrews (who was making his mark as an ambiguous “hero” in late Fritz Lang films at the same time) as a sceptical scientific psychologist attending a conference in England (cue Stonehenge) with the aim of debunking the leader of a “devil cult” (played magnificently by Niall MacGinnis). In the process, Andrews gets a curse placed on him, giving him just 3 days “time allowed” before the demon is to strike.  Andrews starts to slowly lose his grip, but is it the psychological pressure or an actual supernatural haunting that is bringing him to the edge?  Along the way, we see a séance, hypnotism to regress someone back to the “night of the demon” (the original British title of the film), a mysterious windstorm at a Halloween party for kids (complete with scary clown), and of course the demon itself.  To cap it all off, there is actual suspense, as we wonder whether Andrews can escape the curse, while the clock ticks down his time allowed. 


Casablanca (1942)


☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 


Casablanca (1942) – M. Curtiz


Yes, the Bogart and Bergman classic (this time watched with Roger Ebert’s commentary track – he’s a natural and engaging narrator). For me, this film has always been about existentialism and not necessarily about true romance (as it is typically advertised). After all, Bogart comes to realize that he must take responsibility for his actions (to make choices that represent good rather than bad faith) and this means sacrificing his selfish impulses (to reclaim his relationship with Bergman and/or to remain a detached drunkard) for the sake of a higher moral principle (to stop the Nazi’s, protect freedom, etc.). So, this is a tale of Bogie’s growing existential angst when he is finally confronted with his own bad faith. True, it makes excellent use of those bittersweet emotions associated with nostalgia, regret, loss – and yes, the hazy woozy feeling of being in love – and the film would not be the same without this affective infusion (aided tremendously by the strains of “As Time Goes By”). I’d also make a case for the importance of Claude Rains and his witty cynical sarcasm – he too realizes that the time for self-indulgence is over and his reversal at the end (though strongly foreshadowed) makes the film that much more satisfying. Director Michael Curtiz keeps everything moving and the supporting cast of character actors is as good as any assembled. I don’t need to tell you this. Always worth your time.


Fat City (1972)


☆ ☆ ☆ ☆


Fat City (1972) – J. Huston

John Huston captures a feeling here, helped tremendously by Kris Kristofferson’s version of “Help Me Make It Through The Night” which plays over the opening credits and then lingers.  Yes, you’ve got it, this is a snatch of early 1970’s melancholia about down-and-out people going nowhere. Stacy Keach is a revelation as the has-been boxer at the center of the picture, falling in with drunk Susan Tyrrell (loose and sloshed) and encouraging impossibly young Jeff Bridges to take up fighting.  He’s deeply ambivalent about his dreams, probably realistically so, seeing that he’s screwed up too much – that last weird zoom shot tells a lot.  So over 90 minutes or so, we get a look at the flophouses, bars, fruit-picking operations, and of course boxing rings and gyms of Stockton, California, at its most run-down.  I’m hooked on this feeling.