Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (1964)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (1964) – S. Paradjanov

The Soviets suppressed the works of Sergei Paradjanov because they seemed to promote religious belief and local culture (and therefore separatism).  However, in doing so, they effectively quashed a great talent.  Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors tells a simple story of an impossible love between a boy and a girl from two fighting families in the 19^th century, but it is endlessly inventive in its visual choices and increasingly bizarre in its plot, encompassing not just Christianity but earlier pagan beliefs. Somehow, Paradjanov places his camera (handled by cinematographer Yuri Ilyenko) in fire and under water, shooting out at Ivan, the hero of the story. He includes large dramatic close-ups of mustachioed faces (of the Eastern European variety) and beautiful long-shots that make landscapes look like exquisitely patterned tapestries (as when he shoots a hillside of tree stumps, with each stump on fire). Ivan’s story is a sad one, as his first true love drowns and he descends into loneliness and alcoholism (and the film fades from brilliant color to B&W), only recovering when he meets earthy Palagna and marries her. But his steadfast devotion to his dead lover leads his new marriage into despair and Palagna turns to sorcery. Ivan’s death is celebrated with a Ukrainian ritual, as are all the other major events of the film, apparently drawn from Paradjanov’s knowledge of the Hutsul people of the Carpathian Mountains. But trying to explain this film in words is an impossible challenge, you need to see this lofty peak of world cinema yourself.

Gentleman’s Agreement (1947)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Gentleman’s Agreement (1947) – E. Kazan

This is the movie where Gregory Peck plays a journalist who goes undercover as a Jew in order to experience anti-Semitism himself for a magazine series he is assigned to write.  So, immediately, it seems somehow wrong or in bad taste.  But obviously director Kazan and the team had their hearts in the right place and the result (although flawed) is shocking and overt – not the sort of dialogue you hear in films of the time.  And the decision to target those who are complicit in allowing prejudice to continue by not speaking out against it when they hear it from friends, family, or others -- even though they disagree -- is a good one (and in fact this was the focus of my Ph.D. dissertation, although I focused on anti-Black prejudice, conspicuously ignored here).  Dorothy McGuire is brave to play an unlikeable character who passively allows the country club set to continue their bad jokes and exclusionary policies.  Although the whole thing feels dated, so do most films of the 1940s, right?  Prejudice hasn’t disappeared but often isn’t as overt – except toward certain groups where somehow some still feel free to express it publicly (sexual minorities, Muslims, unfortunately).  Again, as the film points out, the obvious bigots are the ones you can fight and the subtle complicit types are more nefarious.  Gregory Peck is wooden but is able to demonstrate the distress and pressure a target of stigma must feel, especially when speaking out; John Garfield seems more authentic as Peck’s Jewish friend when he explains the actual experience. The point here, and in my dissertation, is that we need to make certain that the norms of the situations (and world) we inhabit do not allow expressions of prejudice and we need to do that by countering it vocally wherever we see it, no matter how difficult that may be.      

Contraband (1940)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

Contraband (1940) – M. Powell

Another early film from Michael Powell, scripted by Emeric Pressburger and starring Conrad Veidt and Valerie Hobson, following on from the group’s earlier The Spy in Black (1939).  Again, in a sort of Hitchcockian vein, we find ourselves following Veidt who is the captain of a neutral Danish ship that is halted and examined for contraband by the Brits on its way back from America.  While docked, two passengers steal the Captain’s courtesy landing passes and escape to London – one of them is Hobson.  With his interest piqued, Veidt follows and soon they are both ensnared by the Nazis (and it is refreshing that Veidt is not playing one of them).  Things become comic when the staff of a Danish restaurant (headed by Hay Petrie) are called upon to help.  With his usual flair for the lyrical moment, Michael Powell elevates this spy thriller into something more deeply enjoyable than the usual run-of-the-mill thriller and Veidt is excellent in a fun role.

Sullivan’s Travels (1941)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Sullivan’s Travels (1941) – P. Sturges

Not as laugh-out-loud funny as some of Preston Sturges’ other films of the forties (The Palm Beach Story, The Miracle of Morgan Creek) but possessed of one of those rare “high concepts” that hits the spot.  In this case, Joel McCrea plays movie director John L. Sullivan who wants to make a picture about the down-and-out and their plight (to be called “O Brother Where Art Thou?”) but he realizes that he hasn’t actually known poverty and trouble himself.  So, he decides (in bad taste) to go undercover as a tramp to see what the life is really like and when he runs into broke but aspiring actress Veronica Lake, she joins him. It takes a while for the studio to let him go and a large detachment of personnel – errr, character actors -- are sent in pursuit if and when trouble does descend. But getting there is basically all the fun in this film and when McCrea and Lake actually do meet the destitute, the film gets a bit gloomy.  But Sturges pulls us out of it okay, with his usual ridiculously unbelievable plot mechanics and a grand wink about how no one really wants message films -- they just want to laugh to forget their troubles.  Amen, brother.

Old Joy (2006)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Old Joy (2006) – K. Reichardt

It’s all about the vibe here – which is generally peaceful and introspective, underscored by a thin vein of anxiety.  Director Kelly Reichardt lets this spur of the moment camping trip by two old friends unfold naturally and uses Ozu-like still-life shots (mostly of beauteous nature) to punctuate the action (if you can call it that) and provide a pause for reflection.  The soundtrack is by Yo La Tengo at their most meditative, although there are healthy doses of silence too.  Some talk radio focused on economic and racial problems is heard in the car – which helps to advance that theme of underlying anxiety, mostly associated with the character Mark who is about to become a new dad, has a steady/busy job, and who generally seems to have moved on from a more carefree existence to a life of responsibility.  However, Kurt (played by Will Oldham a.k.a Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy) seems more free-wheeling, a sort of elemental spirit (if you will) with some deep-seated emotions bubbling under his surface, smoothed over with half-cracked story-telling about dreams and openness to experience-styled adventures.  As the movie progresses, you wonder whether Mark wishes he were still like Kurt; but that gradually and gently shifts to wondering whether Kurt wishes he were more like Mark.  There is ample room to do such wondering but the movie also lets you _feel_ this reality which might be very similar to your own, if you’ve reached a certain age. Above all, then, the wistful awareness of time having passed (and the tension between the inability and the ability to recreate earlier states) evokes the sensation that Reichardt has aptly labelled “Old Joy”. 

Bound for Glory (1976)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Bound for Glory (1976) – H. Ashby

David Carradine is an easy-going Woody Guthrie escaping the dustbowl for California and developing a social conscience in Hal Ashby’s moving film based on Guthrie’s autobiography.  Haskell Wexler deservingly won the Oscar for his cinematography, with golden brown a prominent hue.  Ronny Cox is excellent in support as Ozark Bule, the protest singer that inspires Woody and hooks him up with the radio station that helped him to become a big star.  But as played superbly by Carradine, Guthrie is restless, forever wanting to be among the people spreading the Union word through song, so much so that he neglects his wife and family (thus leaving viewers with a very ambivalent feeling toward him, to Ashby’s credit).  Of course, it is the songs themselves and the guitar picking (seemingly performed by Carradine himself) that dominate everything and lend a wistful consistency to the whole film.  And when I say the film is moving, I mean that Woody Guthrie’s message about support for workers against capitalists who would exploit them resonates more today than it probably did in 1976.  This land is made for you and me.