Apocalypse Now Redux (1979/2001)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Apocalypse Now Redux (1979/2001) – F. F. Coppola

I never got around to watching this Redux version – and it has probably been more than a couple of decades since I saw the original.  So, I’m coming at it reasonably fresh – and what I discovered is a druggy-sort of epic, not so much masterpiece as mess, but full of amazing and memorable sequences.  Martin Sheen is Captain Willard, a special ops officer who is assigned to assassinate renegade Colonel Kurtz (Brando) who has possibly gone insane but who is definitely not working from the U. S. Military’s playbook.  The plot comes (loosely) from Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness (including the final line, “the horror!”) although the screenplay is from John Millius and the voiceover narration (Sheen’s) is by Vietnam vet Michael Herr).  The redux version adds a visit to a rubber plantation run by French expatriates and a total of 49 extra minutes for all of the other scenes as well.  In fact, Vittorio Storaro reprinted the negative (this time in amazing Technicolor) and Walter Murch re-edited the film from scratch. The often echoey sound, psychedelic music and repeated use of superimposed images in a hallucinatory montage really create a disturbing head trip for the midnight movie crowd ready to dispense with “reality” (and, of course, the reality depicted here – the Vietnam War – was pretty damn disturbed to begin with).  Although the discussion of colonialism now included in the plantation sequence injects more explicit political content then was in the original, it is safe to say that director Francis Ford Coppola and his team were less concerned with the impact of the war on the Vietnamese and Cambodians and more interested in showing just how f---ed up it was for the Americans sent over there (and for the cast and crew of this film, as shown in 1991’s documentary Hearts of Darkness).  It’s a real trip, full of horror and insanity, but bloated (especially Brando) and unfocused – nevertheless, it’s also a landmark film.      

  

The Night of (2016)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Night of (2016) – R. Price & S. Zaillian

I binged watched this series from HBO over the course of a week or so but, in the end, it really isn’t that much more than a glorified extra-long episode of Law & Order.  That said, the long form allows for much greater character development.  We have Riz Ahmed as the Pakistani-American uni student who makes some poor decisions and ends up on trial for murder.  We have John Turturro as the low-rent lawyer who ends up defending him, against his own financial interests.  We have Bill Camp as the chief detective on the case, about to retire, making mistakes.  We have Jeannie Berlin as the prosecuting attorney, ready to deal and to ignore evidence.  We have Michael K. Williams as a powerful inmate at Rikers, ready to take Naz (Ahmed) under his protection.  We have Amara Karan as the junior lawyer drawn into the defence by her publicity-seeking boss.  We have Payman Maadi and Poorna Jagannathan as Naz’s parents.  And many more characters who make a mark.  So, it’s a police procedural and a courtroom drama for those that like such things.  It also tackles some significant social issues – American prejudice toward Muslims after 9/11, the negative impact of prisons on people (even those not yet convicted), the pressures and biases in our justice system (and the influence of money upon it), and more.  It is mostly dark, often extremely so, although there are occasional moments of humour (courtesy of Turturro and his bad eczema and cat allergy).  I fully enjoyed it across the 500 or so minutes, while recognising that it was written to leave viewers wanting more at the end of each episode and knowing that a much deeper treatment of these issues was possible. 

  

Viridiana (1961)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Viridiana (1961) – L. Buñuel

Luis Buñuel’s return to Spain from Mexico was short-lived, after this film won the Palme D’Or at Cannes and then was subsequently banned by the Franco regime (whose censors had previously passed it).  Of course, the film is scandalous and shocking and it isn’t surprising at all that the Vatican also rejected it.  Silvia Pinal (brought over from Mexico) plays the title character, about to become a nun when she is called to her Uncle, Don Jaime’s estate.  Don Jaime (Fernando Rey, a Buñuel favourite) is so taken aback by the resemblance of Viridiana to his late wife (who died on their wedding day) that he drugs her and almost violates her, until he relents and commits suicide instead.  And that’s just the first part of the film.  Believing herself to have been compromised, Viridiana gives up the sisterhood but devotes herself to a life of charity, looking after the poor and infirm in Don Jaime’s mansion.  However, she has to share the house with Don Jaime’s illegitimate son, Don Jorge (Francisco Rabal) who has seduced the housekeeper and has designs on Viridiana too (after his girlfriend departs).  Don Jorge represents modernity, even as Don Jaime represented the past (lusting after the dead), and he seeks to rebuild and refashion the estate.  Buñuel’s acidic view of human nature is such that, when everyone has left the house to do errands, the beggars who remain descend on the kitchen and debauch themselves on everything available (allowing Buñuel to film them posed as though in Da Vinci’s Last Supper, a famous subversive shot). In other words, they aren’t grateful for Viridiana’s efforts – and, when this sinks in, she finally gives in to Don Jorge (or at least the final shot implies that she and the housekeeper join in a willing ménage à trois with him).  Clearly, Buñuel relished every moment of making this wickedly comedic film.

Last Year at Marienbad (1961)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Last Year at Marienbad (1961) – A. Resnais

I watched this again in August 2019 and must say that the cinematography and tracking shots by Sacha Vierny are frankly amazing -- worth sitting through even as you scratch your head.  I also found this earlier review that didn't make it to the blog somehow.

Seeing this head-scratcher again in the internet age (and in a restored print) is an entirely different experience.  Before, I had known about Robbe-Grillet (and read The Erasers for a class) and so had some entry point into conceptualizing the film (as an out-of-order narrative with an unreliable narrator who changes the rules as he goes along). But now, a cascade of theories and thoughts drenches me as I flit from webpage to webpage (and watch the brief essay/doco available as a bonus on the DVD). So, as X pursues A in the grand hotel with M watching and a variety of zombified upper crusties play parlour games, is there some symbolism involved in her black dress vs. white dress? Why does M always win the pick-up sticks game? Wherefore the gunplay and can A's death really be reversed by our authorial X? Is everyone's memory (Resnais's favorite theme) faulty, pliable, prologue, fantasy? Ultimately, the film may be more fun to think about afterward than to endure. And, of course, there's no right answer.

Children of Men (2006)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Children of Men (2006) – A. Cuarón

Dystopian thriller from director Alfonso Cuarón with tension that never lets up.  Clive Owen plays Theo Faron, an office worker who is slowly drawn into the actions of a terrorist group, the Fishes, by his ex-wife (played by Julianne Moore).  The time is 2027 and humans have become infertile with no offspring produced for the previous 18 years.  Events in the world (nuclear destruction of New York City included) have led nations to close their borders and illegal immigrants are locked up in cages in London (where the film takes place) before being sent to refugee camps that are clearly Hell on Earth.  (In this, the film feels current – alas).  Owen is cynical and alcoholic but has his spirits raised by aging hippy Michael Caine who lives off the grid outside of London.  He agrees to help escort a young girl (Clare-Hope Ashitey) to the coast, through dangerous zones, with the terrorists.  She is humanity’s hope for the future and needs to meet up with “The Human Project” who have a ship and can take her to the Azores, a free zone.  So, there is a “road movie” feel to the proceedings and Cuarón and his team use tracking shots to excellent effect (some quite long but apparently assisted by some invisible digital cuts).  The use of sound is similarly all-encompassing – loud explosions broken by moments of reverie and then back to chaos.  Perhaps this feels like a videogame (and Cuarón doesn’t shy away from using CGI to assist the storytelling – but it is pretty seamless). The film is gruelling but there are moments of hope that nearly brought tears to my eyes.  And then it’s over, leaving you to ponder our own world’s possible fate. But in the end, the film doesn’t attempt to offer real solutions or insights, it’s just a scary ride that could come true.

Sweet Smell of Success (1957)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Sweet Smell of Success (1957) – A. Mackendrick

With a wicked script from Clifford Odets and Ernest Lehman (working separately), this is one of the bitterest of all noirs with a completely lacerating view of human nature.  Tony Curtis is Sidney Falco, a press agent taking money from clients seeking to get their names into notorious columnist J. J. Hunsecker’s copy; he’ll do anything to suck up to Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster) and he isn’t against betraying those who put their trust in him.  You would feel pity for him but he’s a snake with no moral compass.  Lancaster may be worse, lording it over New York City, using his power to humiliate (in print or in person), seemingly without any concern for human feelings or dignity.  He claims to have his younger sister’s welfare at heart but the plot shows him to be using Falco to break up her relationship with an up-and-coming jazz guitarist (and Falco goes along with it, perhaps feigning dismay).  They almost push her to suicide.  As dark as it is, the film snap, crackles, and pops with incredible lines (“I’d hate to take a bite out of you -- you’re a cookie full of arsenic!”, “You’ve got more twists than a barrel of pretzels!”, “That’s fish four days old – I won’t buy it!” and so on).  There’s also a jazz score from Elmer Bernstein and incredible NYC at night cinematography from James Wong Howe.  It is worth the trip but you can’t help leaving with a bitter taste in your mouth from how weak, self-interested, and mean we humans can be.