Blue Collar (1978)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Blue Collar (1978) – P. Schrader

Paul Schrader’s debut film as a director (after writing Scorsese’s Taxi Driver and De Palma’s Obsession) is a heist film, of a sort, but really more a look at three autoworkers and their attempts not to get screwed by both management and their union. Richard Pryor, Yaphet Kotto, and Harvey Keitel are barely making ends meet – Keitel works two jobs, Pryor cheats on his taxes, and Kotto has a side hustle or two going on.  They blow off steam when they can but the failure of the union rep to support them leads to a half-cooked plan to rob the safe at headquarters.  Of course, things don’t go to plan – but the aftermath is what really makes the film interesting.  Pryor, Keitel, and Kotto all have different depressing trajectories.  Schrader keeps things gritty and the actors strut their stuff.  The result is partly a sociological treatise about the plight of the working man (1970s edition) with some particular truths about working while black (courtesy of Pryor) and partly an engaging drama about three friends who fall out.  Recommended.

The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith (1978)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith (1978) – F. Schepisi

No time like the present (and in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement) to watch this key film of the Australian New Wave.  Although it was directed by a white Australian (Fred Schepisi) from a book by another white Australian (Thomas Keneally), the film examines the impact of racism on Aboriginal/Indigenous Australians (First Peoples), albeit at the time of Federation (turn of the 20^th century), a “comfortable” distance away (or not!).  Jimmie Blacksmith, a so-called half-caste boy raised in a Christian missionary settlement, earnestly tries to live by the white society’s rules.  He makes his living by putting up log fences for farmers – which seems symbolic of their theft of native land and subsequent barriers to access for the original owners.  Of course, Jimmie is complicit in this crime (he builds the fences!) but he is invariably mistreated and swindled by his white bosses. Even when he marries a white woman (assumed to be pregnant with his child), he isn’t accepted -- and strangers are ready to undermine his marriage at every turn.  An early turn as a police officer, involving beating other Indigenous people as commanded, also gives us a view of how badly Blackfellas were treated and how much Jimmie was able to separate himself (with encouragement) from his roots. But, but, but, eventually all this harsh treatment and the pernicious racist attitudes of the whites around him finally gets to Jimmie and he explodes in violence.  Undoubtedly, reactions to his acts are complicated – can violence ever be sanctioned as a result of persistent mistreatment? When is enough finally enough?  The other Indigenous characters in the film condemn the violence – but Jimmie is at war.  However, this is a war (righteous though it is) that Jimmie cannot win on his own.  The film explores these events with an unblinking eye, nuanced characterisations, and some beautiful images of the land/natural environment. However, we must ask ourselves have things changed and how complicit are we in the continuing negative treatment of people of colour, in Australia and beyond?

The Last Waltz (1978)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 

The Last Waltz (1978) – M. Scorsese

Blues rock isn’t really my thing, so I haven’t watched Scorsese’s film about The Band’s last concert in 1976 until now.  It does come heralded by many others.  So, in watching, I focused on Marty’s directorial choices and the cinematography (by Michael Chapman but with assistance from László Kovács, Vilmos Zsigmond, and others).  The roving cameras are located onstage with the band and a lot of the footage is shot in extreme close-up on the performers (you can see how Jonathan Demme’s Stop Making Sense, 1984, owes a debt to this film).  Scorsese himself was part of the editing team for Woodstock (1970) and his choices here enhance the concert experience (even if we don’t see the audience – we ARE the audience).  Somehow he manages to keep things interesting as each successive guest musician turns up (Ronnie Hawkins, Dr John, Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Muddy Waters, The Staples Singers, Eric Clapton, Emmylou Harris, Van Morrison, and of course, Bob Dylan, who often played with The Band).  And it wasn’t long before the passion and joy of the players started to win me over; guitarist Robbie Robertson genially holds things together onstage and everyone contributes to the family feeling.  Interview clips with The Band (featuring Scorsese himself) take us back to a different era, as does the overall conceit of the “Last Waltz” itself, revealing that most of these guys grew up in the 1950s. As punk and disco and new wave broke on the horizon, this must have seemed like a farewell to an era (even if we subsequently discovered that old music and old genres can be renewed by younger bands and also streamed forever).

Filming Othello (1978)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Filming Othello (1978) – O. Welles

Orson Welles’ final film to be released to the public (at least until the soon-to-be-completed The Other Side of the Wind) was a “conversation” about the making of his version of Shakespeare’s Othello, which he shot nearly 30 years earlier.  An essay film in the mould of his excellent F for Fake (1973), it mixes found footage with new material and a great deal of Welles speaking directly to the camera in front of his old moviola (presaging a heartfelt ode to the role of editing in the cinema).  Welles is a charismatic raconteur and a bit of a charlatan and his stories and anecdotes about the past production, itself a miracle of shoe-string budget magic and amazing visual design, held this viewer’s attention rapt.  (Indeed, I actually saw this on the big screen about 15 years ago and despite its central focus on talking heads, it was worth it).  The film breaks neatly into three parts:  1) Welles’ introduction to Othello and his stories about it (shot originally as a preface for a German TV showing of the film); 2) a recording of a luncheon with Michael MacLiammoir and Hilton Edwards, two stars of the film and Welles’ mentors at Dublin’s Gate Theatre, where they talk about the production; and 3) Welles’ vigorous readings of several of the key speeches from the play.  Sounds straightforward but Welles could not help but engage in a little of the trickery that enabled him to make Othello such a success despite being filmed across several years in disparate locations with and without actors and their costumes: apparently, he filmed his contributions to the luncheon with his friends a number of months later and inserted himself into the footage. Best shot:  when he breaks out the wine and they all drink a toast!

Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow (1978)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow (1978) – W.-P. Yuen

Jackie Chan’s first big hit is a classic all-fighting kung-fu flick, spiked with humor which makes it all the greater.  Impossibly young Jackie (23 or 24 years old) is a poor dolt, serving as a janitor for the Hungwei School where he is terribly mistreated.  When he happens to meet Simon Yuen, a puckish old kung fu master disguised as a beggar, he is transformed into an expert in the Snake Fist style.  Comic training scenes included!  Unfortunately, the Snake Fist clan is being hunted down and killed by the Eagle’s Claw clan and Jackie and his old master are targeted.  In order to save the day, Jackie must invent a new style of fighting.  And he does.  Jackie’s abilities here are incredible and Simon Yuen (the father of director Wing-Poo Yuen who later worked on the Matrix) is similarly amazingly acrobatic.  The sequel, Drunken Master, is also a classic of early hand-to-hand fighting Jackie, before he graduated to larger-scale death-defying stunts in the 1980s.  Both have coherent plots so seek them out rather than some of the poorly edited schlock that also circulates under Jackie’s name. 

  

The Tree of Wooden Clogs (1978)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Tree of Wooden Clogs (1978) -- E. Olmi

There's a spirit of community here in the simple lives of Olmi's turn-of-the-previous-century peasants that seems totally lost today (and perhaps was already lost when the film was made in 1978).  However, the hard work and hardships endured then surely required a collective orientation and some compassion (which might also be welcome today). Watching this film, you will experience a year in the lives of a few families, centered on the rhythms and routines of the earth, no real plot, just rich and detailed anecdotes, lovingly recreated. The Tree of Wooden Clogs is nearly a documentary, with no flashy camerawork and only non-professional actors who are so submerged into the context that they don't even get names (at least none that were subtitled).

Days of Heaven (1978)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Days of Heaven (1978) – T. Malick

Pictorially amazing and with the most amazing editing, featuring a lot of cuts to shots of movement and then layers of movement within shots (how do I describe this -- must be seen!). The story is somewhat incidental to the full experience of beauty here (laborer Gere cooks up a plan that involves his girlfriend marrying rich farmer Sam Shepard who is supposedly dying). Using Nestor Almendros and Haskell Wexler must have helped to give Malick the kino eye here.