Robert Bresson's
exacting drama of a French Resistance fighter planning his escape from a POW
prison. Lots of shots of hands (and feet) doing things embody the tale, but the
theme is all about spiritual liberation.
Less a film
noir than a mysterious romance, between a cop and a dead lady, presided over by
Clifton Webb,
in fine bitchy form. Vincent Price is a gigolo. The result is all sweeping
strings and elegant cocktails (and probably a lot of suspense, if I hadn't seen
it before).
Epic movies are
becoming more like video games and this historical Chinese battle film proves
the point. John Woo couldn't really hire a cast of 1000's, could he? Instead,
the CGI looks great (not real, but not cheesy). There is enough
characterization (particularly by the great Tony Leung) to make the action
meaningful and the battle scenes have a good strategic element. Plus, it's John
Woo, so you get a guy fighting with a baby in his arms, a dove flying, and two
generals pointing swords at each others' throats in a standoff.
A strangely compelling
series of anecdotes from Luis Bunuel. Compelling because they are so strange,
strange because they abruptly segue into the next before the previous one has
finished. As usual, Bunuel's goal seems to be to send up the social (and
narrative) conventions by which we live, using surrealistic and absurd plot
twists.
Although it has a
cheesy wet-behind-the-ears young girl in big city frame around it, this film is
really about dread and angst. How can one cope with life? Is knowing that you
can end it really the key to committing to it in a serious way? What solace
would the left-hand path offer? Val Lewton conjures up Sartre in the shadows.
Robert Ryan is too old
for the boxing game but still dreams of the one punch that could lead him to a
championship. When he's told to take a dive, he can't make himself do it. Maybe
this is one film noir where it doesn't really end badly...
A wistful and comic
tale of three bumbling old men who seek to arrange a marriage for the daughter
of a woman they once flirted with, now widowed. Ozu echoes his own Late Spring
by placing Setsuko Hara in the role of the widowed parent whose daughter
refuses to get married, a role reversal from the earlier film. As always with
Ozu, the action (which is to say, conversation) takes place in warm interiors
of muted greens and browns (with that one red object in each frame).
Comfortable as old shoes.
The Story of the Last Chrysanthemums (Zangiku Monogatari)
(1939) – K. Mizoguchi
Mizoguchi's
Edo-era drama focuses on an actor from a family of actors who decides no longer
to live off his father's name but to earn his own fame (motivated because he
loves a woman below his class and must defy his haughty father). The woman then
sacrifices herself for his career. Yes, this is a tear-jerker, or would be,
save for some inconsistency in the characterization of the main actor -- is he
spoiled, too passive, selfish, a real jerk, or someone who lives for love?
Perhaps we are meant to see that he comes too late to realize the true love he
had, but this doesn't really come through. Beautiful settings and sounds of old
Japan!
Similar to
Curse of the Demon, this film pits a university professor against the supernatural
in a low-key nothing-but-shadows Val Lewton-styled approach. And there are some
genuinely scary moments when all the protection charms are burnt and who knows
what is going to happen. The soundtrack is a real treat of scary flourishes. A
couple of jump cuts in the plot are all that keeps this from scoring higher.
Delirious chaos
surrounds Ingrid Bergman as she uses her erotic wiles to convince a popular
general to let people power support him in a coup d'etat. Renoir echoes his own
Rules of the Game (although this is a trifle or a truffle compared to that).
Every scene seems to contain people crashing into each other and the state of
madness reminded me of Preston Sturges. But in
the end, this is definitely French and true love wins out over all.
A Woman Under the Influence (1974) – J. Cassavetes
Gena Rowlands loses
her self-control and Peter Falk has his (lack of) coping mechanisms revealed
but somehow the family lurches onward. As always with Cassavetes, the film
feels unpredictable and partly improvised. And intense with raw emotion!
Guy Maddin has
carefully constructed an alternative reality from bits and pieces of 1930s
backstage musicals, visions of foreign lands (seen from Winnipeg
or faux Winnipeg),
Sirkian melodrama, and some of his own brain juice. Is that vaseline on the
lens?
Madhabi
Mukherjee turns in a terrifically nuanced performance in an emotionally complex
role as "the lonely wife" (the alternate title, which really says it
all). Satyajit Ray experiments with superimposition and zoom (and a wind
machine) to enhance the psychological focus.
This is an ACTION
movie, so there are car chases and shoot-outs and the pace is pretty frenetic
(and the soundtrack loud). But it is also one of those movies designed to BLOW
YOUR MIND -- how many levels of dream within a dream can you stand? Whose dream
is this anyway? A most enjoyable ride, especially if you don't worry yourself
about whether there really is any moral to this story.
I was prepared not to
like this, having not seen W.C. Fields before and expecting stupidity,
but...there's something about the pacing, the sheer lackadaisicality (which
must have been scrupulously planned), the errant detours in plotting, that,
despite some stupidity, won me over. Plus, you don't really see alcoholism
played for laughs much anymore, so there's an added layer of peculiarity.
Werner Herzog uses
verite style to examine the experiences of the deaf-blind, including a
remarkable woman who seeks to break the isolation of others. However, some are
clearly lost in the land of silence and darkness, never to return (or ever to
experience a different reality). As always, Herzog's film generates a pulsating
flow of new and different thoughts in the viewer.
Pretty psychotic in
the "what were they thinking?" vein. Loosely held together slapstick,
oddball comedians, surreal throwaways, and musical numbers. Just when you think
it is waning, something bizarre happens. The Broadway show ran for 1400
performances, but the majority of these performers are long since forgotten.
Hitch strands a bunch
of character actors (with Talluhlah Bankhead!) in a soundstage tank during WWII
for a surprisingly pacy anti-Nazi tale. Daringly, the film raises some
questions about mob behavior (and guilt) even in the context of its propaganda
for the allies.
Doug Fairbanks leaps
and bounds across the amazing sets, fighting monsters as well as a variety of
baddies, to capture the hand of the beautiful princess in old Araby. A tad on
the long side but must have been totally thrilling to the all-day cinema
audiences of 1924.
Joan Crawford
works hard for the money but devotes it all to her spoiled rotten daughter.
With all the noir trappings (murder, flashbacks, shadowy lighting,
double-crosses). A desperate need for love pushes her beyond the pale?
Part murder mystery, part character study -- really a showcase for
Hye-ja Kim who pulls out all the stops in her portrayal of an over-protective
and truly creepy mother. Well scripted and shot, relying on the conventions of
genre when it needs to, but hardly bound to them.
Granddaddy of documentaries, opening that first can of worms about
whether it matters that some scenes were re-enacted for the camera, whether
reality changes as a function of the camera being there or not, and whether it
is OK to have stage managed things (for example, so that cigarettes and other
modern items were excluded). These questions lead directly to Werner Herzog.
All that aside, it is fascinating to take a peek at 1920 arctic life -- family
kayaking, walrus hunting, dog sled managing, igloo building.
Kurosawa disguises his reading of Hamlet in this tale of big business
corruption that still feels modern 50 years later (given the undying ability
for capitalism to promote greed). A bit overlong, perhaps, but the evil is both
banal and chilling and Mifune is too nice to win in his quest for revenge.
Although its plot sounds like a cliche (a group of travelers are
stranded at an old dark house due to a fierce storm), the goings on feel more
realistic and for that reason can be genuinely scary. There is a messed up
family in the house and the ominous sense of dread (and general
weirded-outness) is captured well by Whale (1932).
Perhaps fittingly, I kept falling asleep and waking back up (I think)
as I rewatched Orpheus after a many-year break. Cocteau's dreamscape follows
the title character through the mirror to romance death herself before
re-embracing life and living. Great cinematic moments with hypnotic very
special effects. No excess is absurd, indeed.
AKA Alonzo the Armless. Lon Chaney is a circus performer who shoots
bullets and throws knives (at 22 year old Joan Crawford) with his feet. He
romances lovely Joan who has a pathological fear of being touched -- perfect!
But Alonzo really does have arms that he's hiding away because he is a wanted
murderer who has three thumbs. Thinking Joan would reject him if she found out
he really had arms, Alonzo does the unthinkable. And when she falls in love
with the strong man, he thinks up an ugly plot. An amazing silent spectacle of
dread.
Fictional characters mix with real events (and Lech Walesa himself)
during the period between Solidarity's successful strike and the yet to occur
(but thoroughly anticipated) imposition of martial law in 1981 Poland. Filmed
at that time by Andrej Wajda, this film is extremely brave in its criticism of
the government and its control of the media. Technically a sequel (to Man of
Marble) but even with my lack of awareness of the previous film (and faded
memory of Polish history), I found it compelling.
The World According to John Coltrane (1993) -- R. Palmer & T. Byron
Sure, like any other music doco, this features a bunch of talking heads
trying to give us insight into a musician who they knew (Wayne Shorter, Rashied
Ali) or didn't know (LaMonte Young). But there is enough live footage of
Coltrane, and not just clips, to make it worthwhile. Great to see some ecstatic
sounds from his final free period.
Warts and all doco about trumpeter Chet Baker who lost his way after
stardom in the 1950s. Beautifully shot but full of non-sequiturs (what's Flea
doing on that beach?) and a certain overly pretty quality. But the melancholic
tone carries the film and even if Baker isn't sympathetic, his music connects
on an emotional level.
Not your average prison flick, but something more gritty and visceral,
with a hero/anti-hero who listens and learns but is opaque to the viewer (think
Le Samourai). On the surface, the story is straightforward (and occasionally
brutal) but simmering under are racial identity issues, father-son dynamics, a
moral code of sorts, and possibly second sight. Never less than enthralling.
This tale of four young men on a drunken vacation to "the
forest" is deceptively simple, but in Satyajit Ray's masterful hands, the
story becomes lyrical and complex. Our immature heroes meet two women who are
deeper, more tempered by experience, and as a result find themselves
transformed. Good thing too, because they started out boorish, careless, and
demeaning to those from lower castes than themselves. Full of humid
transcendent B&W cinematography.
I'd pretty much avoided John Wayne (except Stagecoach and The
Searchers) up until this point, primarily because of his personal politics. But
Hawks made me give him a chance and it paid off. Audience identification with Wayne is pretty
ambivalent here (as in The Searchers) which suits me fine (Monty Clift is the
real hero) and the directorial flourishes (love those yee-haws!) really make
the picture. Only the script falters in places.
Location shooting, raw editing, mostly unknown cast (plus Brando with
colourful scarves), Ennio Morricone, and a revolutionary ethos from the man who
made Battle of Algiers. Brando plays the slaves (and former
slaves) and the sugar companies off each other but his cynicism is his undoing.
Witty script and a finely tuned comic performance from Garbo, who comes
off sweet (not sophisticated) as the dour Soviet envoy who falls for Melvyn
Douglas in Paris.
Although it sags a bit in the middle, the Lubitsch touch generates enough warm
feelings to carry the day. No wonder this was banned in the USSR.
One of the 1001 films you must see before you die. An intense family
drama focused on the older sister who sacrifices her own happiness for a
largely ungrateful family, living in poverty. Bleak but with transcendent
moments (in both sound and vision). I may have missed some of the political or
allegorical subtext apparently related to the partition of Bengal in 1947 (when
India became independent and
Pakistan
was split off). Perhaps Ghatak saw those who were made refugees by the
partition making a sacrifice without objecting just as the sister does here?
Satyajit Ray's sequel
to Pather Panchali finds Apu growing from a small boy to a young man. Ready for
independence and adventure, Apu abandons his mother for Calcutta and studies, leaving her lonely and
weak. Close-ups (and Ravi Shankar's lilting
score) heighten the emotion. The film ends abruptly, as Apu departs after
another life transition.
There's some kind of alchemy
going on in this quiet Taiwanese family melodrama that elevates it to something
special. Whether that is the nuanced portrayals of the dad, NJ, and daughter,
Ting-Ting, (not to mention Japanese business guy, Ota) or the superb use of
off-screen space and stunning camera shots (such as the nighttime window
reflections) that are reminiscent of countryman HHH or even Wong Kar Wai, I'm
not sure. But this film is never less than moving and insightful.
Sweet
Sweetback’s Badasssss Song (1971) – M. Van Peebles
So, is it an experimental film with a
Blaxploitation theme or a Blaxploitation film using experimental methods? (Or
an experimental Blaxploitation film, as if such a genre existed?). Melvin Van Peebles uses every trick in the
filmmaker’s bag (and on a very low budget) to create a somewhat crazy
meditation on our Black hero’s trouble with The Man (he defends a brother who
is being shaken down by two White cops) and his flight on foot from L.A. to
Mexico. Earth Wind and Fire provide
elements of the soundtrack – or is it just that one riff played over and over
and over? The rest of the soundtrack is,
again, experimental and full of subjective effects and non-diegetic sounds. Van
Peebles himself plays Sweetback who is renowned for his prowess in the sack (he
grew up in a brothel). Shall I mention
that this film also breaks taboos and must have been rated X in its day
(although would be seen as somewhat tamer today, though definitely laced with
nudity/sex and a tiny bit of fake blood).
Nothing like Shaft or the mainstream Blaxploitation films (you have been
warned); so, probably not worth your time if you wouldn’t also enjoy plotless
experimental fare. But otherwise great!
There is much to chew on in Nuri Bilge
Ceylan’s three hour palme d’or winning character study of a rich self-satisfied
man too unable to feel empathy for those around him. Haluk Bilginer fully inhabits the
small-minded man (named Aydin, or “Intellectual” in Turkish) who wants to see
himself in larger-than-life terms but in fact is the epitome of Sartre’s
concept of bad faith. He pretends not to
notice the hardships and dissatisfaction of those around him and his role in
their fates. He allows an intermediary
to repossess a TV and furniture from his tenants and to threaten them with
eviction. He traps his younger wife into a secluded life where she is unable to
pursue her own ambitions and he condescendingly meddles when she tries. But Ceylan asks more questions than he
answers. When the wife attempts to act in good faith by donating money to
charity and to others who she thinks are needy, has she done the wrong thing or
the right thing? More than once, it is
suggested that she just seeks to assuage her own guilt at being well-off and it
seems that hand-outs probably don’t allow the recipient to retain enough dignity
to be acceptable. Apparently based
loosely on Chekhov, the themes are mulled over through conversation after
conversation, many ending in bitterness.
Through it all, Aydin has his defences up, even as he seems to be
acknowledging his own flaws – an easy trick that anyone can play. Perhaps this is why the title refers to
hibernation and Ceylan sets the film in Turkey’s rocky and isolated Cappadocia
region; this is a man who has receded into himself, no longer willing to accept
that he should act differently or to pay attention to the world around him and
the other people in it (aside from his perception of what they are or should
be). Finally, even without all these
ideas swirling around, the film would be worth seeing just for the stunning
cinematography: amazing snowy landscapes
and cosy fire-lit interiors abound. And
I’m still chewing.
When I saw that the latest Dardenne
Brothers film had arrived in the mail, I thought “uh-oh”. Not because I expected the film to be bad but
rather because their films are so morally complex and heart-wrenching (often
dealing with blue-collar or disadvantaged people in tough situations or at the end
of their tether) that I thought it would be a tough watch. Once again, the Dardennes have come up with a
simple moral dilemma and then appear to have sat back and allowed their characters
to deal with it. Specifically, Marion
Cotillard’s boss has told the 16 employees at her workplace that they have to have
a vote to decide whether to keep Marion at work or to sack her and take 1000
Euros each as a bonus. So, the movie
follows poor Marion as she visits each of her co-workers in turn over the
course of a weekend to try to influence them to let her stay. Of course, each
person visited has their own issues and a different relationship to
Marion. It also emerges that Marion
herself has had a period away from work due to depression and that the foreman
has been trying to influence others to vote against her. Yet, somehow the
Dardennes find a way to make the story both realistic and uplifting and
Cotillard holds her own in a tough part. If you haven’t seen any films by these
Belgian masters, you really are missing out -- but you might find that they
come too close to depicting the stresses of real life!
