The Fire Within (1963)

 

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Fire Within (1963) – L. Malle

Apparently, director Louis Malle identified so much with Alain Leroy, the protagonist of Pierre Drieu La Rochelle’s novel, that he even dressed actor Maurice Ronet in his own clothes.  Malle was reportedly insecure about his ability (despite several awards and commercial successes, including Les Amants, 1958), and saw glimpses of himself in the character who feels at a dead-end at age 30 after a (short) lifetime spent indulging himself with nightlife and women and especially alcohol.  When we meet Alain he has been living at a clinic in Versailles, separated from his American wife (still in New York) and his friends (all in Paris); he is introspective and unwilling to leave despite having been detoxed and “cured”.  After sleeping with his wife’s visiting go-between, Lydia, he restlessly decides that he should kill himself – but first, he makes one last trip to Paris to say goodbye.  His encounters with his old friends prove rather unsatisfying:  they have either matured into adulthood (with wife, kids, career) or they remain as they were but seem distant or foolish.  Anyone who has struggled with depression can see Alain’s troubled self-loathing in Ronet’s eyes and in the way he alternately lashes out at others and wallows in his public shame (feeling he is seen as a burnt out degenerate). It’s an impressively complex and sad performance.  However, the film, despite Alain’s downward trajectory, occasionally offers reasons for living. Alain’s friends profess their love and try to convince him that he has things to contribute. The film itself, with its beautiful B&W cinematography (by Ghislain Cloquet) and its thoughtful piano score (by Erik Satie), often stops to observe Paris, its people, and Alain’s immediate surroundings.  This sensual experience reminds us of those little pleasures that the mindful existentialist can focus on to keep angst at bay.  However, it is not enough for Alain.

 

O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000)

 

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000) – J. & E. Coen 

One of the Coen Brothers’ most accessible films that rises on the strength of its rootsy Depression-era setting and especially music (the soundtrack went platinum).  Ironic, I suppose, because the film takes its title from the film that director Joel McCrea wants to make (in Sullivan’s Travels, 1941) when he decides to give up commercial filmmaking to make something more serious (i.e., about the struggles of the common man).  But I guess that theme is somewhere buried in there along with the Coens’ usual assortment of oddities, anecdotes, references, and jokes!  This time, the plot is also held together by its links to Homer’s The Odyssey and the homeward journey of its hero (and/or to The Wizard of Oz and its similar trek). George Clooney, Tim Blake Nelson, and John Turturro play three convicts who break loose from a chain gang and then aim to head to George Clooney’s home to get their hands on the proceeds from a bank robbery that he has hidden there, before the TVA floods the whole place.  Along the way, they meet various characters who may echo Homer – John Goodman as a one-eyed Bible Salesman, for example – and a variety of time-period relevant events (a KKK rally, for example).  They are always followed by a demonic sheriff in mirror shades. They meet gangster George BabyFace Nelson (Michael Badalucco). They also meet Tommy Johnson (Chris Thomas King) who may or may not have sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for guitar-playing prowess – which brings us back to the music.  At one point in their journey, the boys stumble into a Sun Records styled recording studio and radio station where they fortuitously record a version of “Man of Constant Sorrow” which becomes an unlikely hit for their pseudonym The Soggy Bottom Boys (a plot device that returns later to salvage, well, everything). Clooney didn’t do his own singing but apart from that his presence here was really a revelation (back in 2000) – he is truly funny as the fast-talking but ridiculous Ulysses Everett McGill (that name!).  Nelson and Turturro are no slouches either and the whole thing ambles along so amiably with its rollicking and wistful accompaniment that it leaves you with a warm feeling that seems rarely the Coens’ goal. I’m glad I revisited it.      

Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood (2019)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood (2019) – Q. Tarantino

As with all of QT’s films, this one is extremely problematic in so many ways.  I hesitated to give it 4 stars (relegating it to my better film blog rather than to the annex) but I was impressed by the performances offered by Brad Pitt (as an out-of-work stunt man) and Leonardo DiCaprio (as a fading second-string star).  Tarantino’s efforts to recreate the past, in this case 1969 in Hollywood, are as always unparalleled.  Being old myself, I appreciated the nostalgia for the analogue world (and TV Guide!) even if the events depicted – encompassing the lead-up to the Manson murders – happened before I can remember.  I didn’t much care for the past two Tarantino films (Hateful Eight, Django Unchained) but Once Upon a Time has less in common with them and harkens back a bit more to the pacing and rhythms of Jackie Brown (1997), which is one of his best.  While watching, I had mixed feelings about the long scenes (in an already long film) of Pitt driving around or DiCaprio acting in TV westerns but I have to admit that they do establish the characters, the setting, and the tone. The Spahn ranch episode is especially creepy.  Of course, QT is working around the edges in every scene, filling the soundtrack with period music and radio DJs, decorating the set with period props and furniture, getting every detail right (kudos to his art department).  There are a lot of references and in-jokes, to be sure. However, Once Upon a Time does have grander objectives than just reproducing the past – Tarantino wants to say something about Hollywood’s loss of innocence as a result of the Manson murders (as well as various implicit and explicit side comments about Roman Polanski, Sharon Tate, Bruce Lee, and the industry).  Everything builds to the murders and viewers are naturally in dread as the date nears – DiCaprio’s Rick Dalton actually lives next door to the murder house on Cielo Drive. I won’t spoil the movie but it should come as no surprise that Tarantino revels in the depiction of terrible violence. He seems to be using the film to lash out at “hippies” and the way the counter-culture overwhelmed and perhaps destroyed the film and TV days of old – or perhaps this is just assuming that he identifies with Pitt and DiCaprio’s characters who belong to that older world. If he does, then the film might be a sort of fantasy wish fulfilment for him.  But a lot of viewers won’t want to go through the ordeal of the final scenes even if the denouement grants QT’s wish.