Germany Year Zero (1948)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Germany Year Zero (1948) – R. Rossellini

Roberto Rossellini shot this film in 1947 in the ruins of Berlin (but with interior shots in an Italian studio) which gives it a lot of its power. We follow a 13-year-old boy, Edmund, who has to cope with the aftermath of war – conditions that are detailed rather didactically through the dialogue spoken by the boy and his father and siblings and members of other families (all living in the same apartment due to housing shortages). So, despite adhering to the genre known as Italian Neo-Realism, it is very apparent how scripted the film is. Rossellini shows the despair of the German people – whether they followed Hitler or not – and, if not exactly excusing anyone’s actions, he still documents the tragedy of the situation in a way that evokes pathos. This is especially the case for Edmund, young enough not to deserve any blame and scrappy enough to adapt to his conditions: learning about the Black Market and ways to get food, illegally or not (and there is a strong implication that women, girls, and even boys are/were exploited sexually as a result of their plight). Unfortunately, Edmund may not be mature enough to fully grasp the way adults respond to such terrible events, taking his father’s cry that he wishes he were dead all too literally. As a result, the film turns to horror, as it should, and I suspect the audience of the time felt helpless to undo the trauma of the war even as the current audience must surely leave feeling more strongly anti-war.

The Fallen Idol (1948)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Fallen Idol (1948) – C. Reed

Middle film in a string of great ones from director Carol Reed (this followed Odd Man Out, 1947, and preceded The Third Man, 1949).  Told (more or less) from the perspective of a young boy, Philippe, living in a French-speaking embassy in London who tries to help butler Baines (Ralph Richardson), a friendly surrogate father figure, when there’s trouble in the house.  It starts when Phile accidentally discovers that Baines is meeting with a young woman (who he calls his niece) and doesn’t want Mrs. Baines (portrayed as mean-spirited and vindictive) to know. Of course, adult viewers realise that Baines is having an affair but naïve young Phile never figures this out – to him it is something of a game, keeping the secret, until suddenly it is no longer a game.  When the police become involved, Phile isn’t sure what to tell them and indeed he doesn’t really know what is true and what is not.  Suspense builds when viewers realise that Phile is the only witness to the crime and the fate of the good guys rests with him.  Reed and team employ beautiful sets, location shooting and B&W cinematography to good effect and Richardson gives a subtle and nuanced performance.

Fort Apache (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Fort Apache (1948) – J. Ford

Monument Valley looks great (in B&W) in the first film in John Ford’s so-called “Cavalry” trilogy.  Henry Fonda plays an arrogant Colonel who arrives to take command of the regiment at the titular Fort and rubs everyone in the good-natured community the wrong way.  He removes an old friend of his wife’s from a leadership role, pushes troop leader John Wayne around, and tries to prevent his daughter (19-year-old Shirley Temple!) from dating a young lieutenant (John Agar, Temple’s real-life husband), the son of non-commissioned war hero Ward Bond.  Ford intersperses scenes of the community (dinners, dances) with comic relief (from drunkard Sergeant Victor McLaughlin and his mates) and the tense scenes with Fonda (there are no relaxed scenes with him).  Ultimately, when the Apaches, led by Cochise and Geronimo, escape their reservation to Mexico (after being exploited by the government-operated trading store proprietor), Wayne and Fonda disagree about how to best deal with the situation.  Fonda refuses to listen to reason and we are treated to an epic battle scene.  For what it’s worth, the portrayal of Native Americans is relatively benign, although Fonda spouts a bunch of negative stereotypes; since he is the bad guy (and Wayne opposes him on this ground), the stereotypes are theoretically rejected as well.  This probably wasn’t forceful enough to have any effect on the cinema-going audience of the time, however.  I’ve spent a lot of time avoiding John Ford’s westerns but they do have a certain warmth and sense of place.

Treasure of the Sierre Madre (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Treasure of the Sierre Madre (1948) – J. Huston

Badges!  We don’t need to show you no stinking badges!  These are the immortal words spoken by a Mexican bandit upon discovering Humphrey Bogart, Tim Holt, and Walter Huston squatting on a solid vein of gold and hoping to remake their destitute lives with a tidy profit.  But bandits are only one of their problems; greed and mistrust are the major obstacles to their success.  Bogie is ugly as Fred C. Dobbs who is most crippled by the paranoia that descends as their fortunes increase.  But Walter Huston (father of the director and a star in his own right) really steals the show as the wise old prospector who knows all the tricks of the trade and has his head screwed on straight.  The fact that he can relish the absurdity of the movie’s ending with a hearty laugh endears him to us even more.  Huston (the son) shot the film on location in Mexico and you can tell; he also makes a cameo early in the picture when Bogie hits him up for some loose change in Tampico.  The new blu-ray version I watched felt weirdly clean and detailed for a film this old – like you are there – in sun-baked black and white.  A classic that never gets old (and reminds you that the pursuit of wealth at the expense of your relationships is bound to be folly).

Night has a Thousand Eyes (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Night has a Thousand Eyes (1948) – J. Farrow

Beer may have helped but I really enjoyed this supernatural film noir from director John Farrow.  Edward G. Robinson stars as Triton, a phony psychic answering questions posed by members of the audience (aided by his erstwhile assistants), who starts to have real visions of the future.  Although he manages to warn people about (but ultimately not prevent) a few tragedies and help his friends win big at the races, Robinson’s visions alarm him and lead him to despair and the life of a recluse.  Only later, when he foresees the death of his former partner and then the subsequent murder of that man’s daughter, does he emerge from hiding.  The film then plays out according to his visions, despite police detective William Demarest’s disbelief.  Creepy and weird and noir, just the way I like ‘em (although I’ll admit that some of the supporting actors could be stronger). 

Night has a Thousand Eyes 1948 - Edward G... 投稿者 filmow

The Red Shoes (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Red Shoes (1948) – M. Powell/E. Pressburger

The 17 minute ballet sequence is amazingly surreal and full of way out art-direction (as one would expect from Powell & Pressburger). The rest of the story speaks to the trade-off between committing to one's artform and having a normal life. In my book, Black Narcissus is the better Archers' film but Anton Walbrook does give an impressive performance here.

Red River (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Red River (1948) – H. Hawks

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.

They Live By Night (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

They Live By Night (1948) -- N. Ray

Nicholas Ray's first film is about DOOMED LOVE (yes, in all caps).  Bowie and Keechie meet in the old gas station when he busts out of jail (been there since he was 16) with a couple of older cons keen to continue robbing banks.  Her dad runs the place but he's a drunk and not very good to her.  Farley Granger (with hints of Keanu Reeves) plays Bowie and Cathy O'Donnell plays Keechie.  They hit the road to get away from it all (travelling only by night) and to fulfill the portentous intensity of their DOOMED LOVE.  Nick Ray is out of the gates like a shot with this gorgeous and "dilated" film full of giant head close-ups of kids who have to be tough but would rather swoon.

Letter from an Unknown Woman (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Letter from an Unknown Woman (1948) -- M. Ophüls

Max Ophüls' film is oh so European, so I wonder how American audiences received it (in 1948). It also fits perfectly into what later shaped up to be his oeuvre, with a dark/stark look at romance told across time in an episodic/flashback structure. The opulence masks the emptiness inside (or doesn't it?). Joan Fontaine loves Louis Jourdan but he is too self-absorbed to notice (most of the time). In truth, I prefer Ophüls' later French films but the style here, light and dark, is tactile and impressive.

Macbeth (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Macbeth (1948) -- O. Welles

This is the fever-dream version of the Scottish play -- expressionistic (although not at Caligari heights), with half-remembered lines and tortured soliloquies (performed entirely inside of the characters' heads). Dark and gloomy with heavy mist and sometimes heavy burrs (and sometimes not), the angst and horror settle in on Lady M and MacB pretty much right away -- Welles is his posturing self but the others sometimes do get lost in the jumble. Out, out, brief candle.

Shoeshine (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Shoeshine (1948) -- V. De Sica

De Sica's brand of Italian Neo-Realism hardly seems naturalistic these days with its well planned shots, scripted melodramatic action, and occasionally intrusive music.  But viewed as an artistic creation rather than a glimpse at how Italy really was (which it may still capture through location shooting), Shoeshine still has the power to tug at the heartstrings.  Here we see two young boys caught up in the poverty of the post-war period and thrown into a juvenile jail.  It gets worse from there, as their loyalty is tested through a number of trials. Perhaps, in fact, it is all too much.

Oliver Twist (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Oliver Twist (1948) -- D. Lean

David Lean's striking film of Dickens' novel is grimy yet handsome, full of ugly characters beautifully presented. But seriously, the cinematography and settings here (as with the earlier Great Expectations) are like etchings by Durer come to life in industrial Britain. Stereotyping aside, Alec Guinness submerges himself into Fagin, countering Robert Newton's drunken brutish Bill Sykes with a craftier evil type. Lean's direction carries us to a fine (and satisfying) crescendo.

Hamlet (1948)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Hamlet (1948) – L. Olivier

Twenty years ago (or more) I was immersed in Shakespeare -- and watching Olivier's Hamlet, abridged though it may be, brought back my reading and acting as a distant dream (even though I played Rosencrantz, or was it Guildenstern, who was cut out of this version). Things here are less stagebound than you might expect, with the camera prowling the barren castle's hallways, moving amongst the players, and even venturing outside from time to time. To call it film noir might be too rich, but these dark deeds lend themselves to the shadows and chiaroscuro that noir also used. Stripped to its essence, the bard's great tragedy seems somehow heightened, careening from set piece to set piece, until silence.