I Walked with a Zombie (1943)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

I Walked with a Zombie (1943) – J. Tourneur

From the famed production stable of Val Lewton and directed by Jacques Tourneur comes this haunting tale of voodoo in the Caribbean. Although apparently drawn from a non-fiction report, screenwriters Curt Siodmak and Ardel Wray tack on elements of Jane Eyre to give the film more dramatic tension and mystery. Frances Dee stars as a Betsy Connell, a Canadian nurse hired to look after a mentally ill patient on the island of San Sebastian (probably Haiti) by her husband Paul Holland (Tom Conway). Mrs Holland is completely zombified but can walk around in a trance.  Upon arrival, Betsy meets Paul’s younger half-brother Wes Rand (James Ellison) and soon learns that he was having an affair with Mrs Holland which was discovered by Paul. The shock apparently led to Jessica Holland’s illness and Wes’s subsequent alcoholism.  After Betsy’s attempts to revive Jessica with an insulin shock fail, she is convinced by her maid (Theresa Harris) to try voodoo.  This leads to the most spooky scenes in the picture, as Betsy walks with zombie Jessica to the crossroads and beyond to voodoo headquarters (the houmfort) – along the way they see creepy Darby Jones, the zombie who guards the crossroads. Little does she know that Paul and Wes’s mother, Mrs. Rand (Edith Barrett), has been masquerading as the voice of the voodoo spirits at the Houmfort (in order to convince the locals to adopt modern medicine). Yet what seems to throw cold water on the possibility that voodoo is real is quickly undone by the script, which proceeds to a tragic ending in which characters act by ambiguous compulsions. Mysterious and beautiful.

Suspiria (1977)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Suspiria (1977) – D. Argento

 I don’t usually go for movies with gore or slasher-type killers but writer-director Dario Argento brought something different to horror in the 1970s. Influenced by Mario Bava, Argento uses garishly coloured sets and lighting and takes the giallo (Italian pulp mystery fiction) as his genre of choice. But with Suspiria, Argento moved more clearly into supernatural territory. Suzy Bannion (Jessica Harper) is the American ballet student who arrives in Germany to study at the Tanz Academy led by headmistress Madame Blanc (Joan Bennett, star of many Fritz Lang films of the ‘40s) and strict teacher Miss Tanner (Alida Valli, star of The Third Man and Hitchcock’s Paradine Case in the ‘40s). She arrives on a rainy night and sees another student fleeing the school (subsequently murdered).  Although she originally wishes to stay off-campus, after a strange hallway encounter that leaves her woozy, she is moved to a room in the main building with the other students, including Sara (Stefania Casini), who becomes an ally.  Argento uses weird camera angles and tracking shots to add to the ominous feel of the place (and a maggot infestation makes it worse). Rumours swirl and eventually Suzy heads to the local psychiatric hospital/university to ask about witchcraft (to a sadly dubbed Udo Kier). What she learns makes her even more suspicious about the leaders of the dance academy, particularly when Sara disappears. Of course, we soon discover that witchcraft is real but Argento manages the mystery elements of the plot expertly (a talent he was later to lose), even as the whole thing resembles a dream… or nightmare.  A spooky masterpiece elevated by an amazing score by the rock band Goblin but punctuated with some bloody violent set-pieces (enter at your own risk!). The 2018 remake with Tilda Swinton pales in comparison but is altogether a different beast.

Island of Lost Souls (1932)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Island of Lost Souls (1932) – E. C. Kenton

I read H. G. Wells’ The Island of Doctor Moreau (1896) in my teens, although I barely remember it now. The film hones in on the horror in the story rather than on the more philosophical inclinations of the author (dealing with the theory of evolution, animal ethics, etc.) and, for this reason, Wells apparently was not a fan of the adaptation by screenwriters Waldemar Young and Philip Wylie.  Yet the film, as directed by Erle C. Kenton, is truly horrific – with no constraints placed by censors (the film is “pre-code”), a palpably decadent weirdness pervades the proceedings. Of course, there is an assortment of half-beast/half-human oddities (with excellent make-up) on the Island, created via sadistic experimentation by Doctor Moreau (played by Charles Laughton in a gleefully leering and cruel performance), that evokes not only dread and disgust but sympathy for their horrible plight. Shipwrecked Edward Parker (Richard Arlen) gradually discovers the evil goings-on and is shocked when he realises that Moreau has attempted to manipulate him into providing evidence for whether the half-beasts can procreate with humans (as well as speak/learn/and follow the Law). Lota, the Panther Woman (played by Kathleen Burke, who won a contest by Paramount to star in the film), is the target (and in true pre-code fashion, she is scantily clad and the target of the camera’s male gaze) and, despite his fiancée, Parker almost seems to give in. But when said fiancée actually arrives on the island to rescue him, with a sea captain in tow, Moreau tries to turn his beasts against them, causing them to violate his Law (no killing, no walking on all fours, etc.), and therefore also to realise that there is nothing stopping them from killing Moreau himself, which they do. (Spoiler). The film is all humid tropical jungle, shrouded in fog and silence (no musical soundtrack) save for the cry of the beasts in the House of Pain.  A strange artefact from another time and place.

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019) – C. Sciamma

It is tempting to see this film as revealing “secret women’s business” – not meant for the eyes of men – but that might serve to detract from the universal human emotions and experience conveyed by the characters and story.  Yet I am open to the possibility that love between two women feels different than love between a man and a woman (I shall never really know). The fact that this story takes place in the late 1700s heightens the “forbidden” and tragic aspects of the love affair between Heloise (offered by her mother to a Milanese noble) and Marianne the artist invited to paint her portrait. There are no men in the film to speak of, but aside from the mother (away for much of the film), there is a maid who is, probably unrealistically, treated as an equal by the two leads (and for whom we see the Eighteenth Century solution to another woman’s problem, this one a direct result of a man’s action). The three women make the most of the mother’s absence, enjoying their freedom and for Heloise (Adèle Haenel, previously in a relationship with the director Céline Sciamma) and Marianne (Noémie Merlant), it is a chance to explore their desires. If this all sounds a bit too mushy, in fact, the film feels rather stately and emotionally restrained for most of its length, making the rush of freedom that much more exciting, and the inevitable denouement that much more painful.  The isolation of the island and the crashing waves of the ocean offer a scenic (and metaphoric?) backdrop (and the film’s title turns out to be surprisingly surrealistically literal). In the end, perhaps it is the experience of seeing an ex after you have both moved on (for better or for worse) that is the more universal bittersweet feeling. However, when it is society that has blocked the relationship from continuing, the sadness may be much more palpable -- with the film’s obvious implication a hope that such barriers are no longer imposed today.

Rififi (1955)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Rififi (1955) – J. Dassin

Jules Dassin’s Rififi is one of the very best of the French films noir. Not only do we have an aging and weary gangster (Jean Servais), recently released from prison to find he was betrayed by his girlfriend. We also have a young gang eager to make a big score by breaking into the safe of a well-known Parisian jeweller (with Dassin himself as the safecracker imported from Italy). Although Tony the Stephanois (Servais) isn’t initially interested in the heist (advertised first as a smash-and-grab through the store’s front window), eventually he takes over the planning which results in a heralded 32-minute “silent” scene with the gang breaking through the ceiling of the store as quietly as they can (until they can disable the alarm system). But as with Kubrick’s The Killing (released the following year), the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. Indeed, the complications after the heist seem to take up at least as much of the run-time as the planning and heist itself. And noir being noir, the unravelling is gloriously messy, with Tony working strenuously to hold things together – with honour – as they slowly fall apart.  Although Dassin doesn’t rely heavily on noir lighting or expressionistic cinematography, the mise-en-scene is perfectly French and yes, perfectly noir.

Yearning (1964)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Yearning (1964) – M. Naruse

I rewatched this late Mikio Naruse film starring Hideko Takamine as a widow who has dutifully served her late husband's family by running their grocery store. When the family thinks about upscaling to a supermarket, there may be no place for her -- except the youngest (now only) son has other ideas. Although the title usually translates as "yearning" (which may be what Takamine's character is feeling), some have suggested that it could be "confused" or even "tormented".  Although there is a glimpse of freedom near the end, things conclude very bleak. Highly recommended!

Original review is here:  https://artstukas.blogspot.com/2012/05/yearning-1964.html

 

The Velvet Underground (2021)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Velvet Underground (2021) – T. Haynes

Probably my favourite band – and therefore their history is overly familiar to me (from the Up-Tight book by Malanga/Bockris; the Under Review DVD; and countless other sources). So, what could director Todd Haynes (e.g., Safe, 1995; Dark Waters, 2019; and a bunch of Sonic Youth videos) bring to this tale? For one thing, he adopted Andy Warhol’s split screen technique (used prominently in Chelsea Girls, 1966, which I saw years ago at the Walker Art Center) – often showing one of Warhol’s screen tests (Lou Reed, John Cale, Sterling Morrison, and more but maybe not Maureen Tucker) on one side, while the other includes rare live recordings, an interview subject, or other remarkable found footage and period ephemera. Haynes is clearly more enamoured with the Velvets’ early days, spending much time with denizens of the Factory and the Village more broadly (the film is dedicated to Jonas Mekas). Of course, this is one key to their sound – Tony Conrad, Henry Flynt, and La Monte Young all provide necessary backstory about the drone influence, as does Cale himself. But Pickwick Records and poet Delmore Schwartz are not forgotten, as inspirations or contributing factors in Lou Reed’s development as a songwriter and lyricist. Naturally, we hear some of the early demos and formative noises that accompanied the Exploding Plastic Inevitable and foreshadowed the first album (with most of its songs on the soundtrack). Nico is introduced (with footage from La Dolce Vita) but we move fairly quickly past her, then touch on the California tour (Moe really hated the hippies), and the firing of Warhol. The subsequent albums whiz by, each given progressively less coverage (Cale is given a chance to reflect on his departure but Doug Yule is barely introduced). Then, it is time for the finale at Max’s, where Lou’s walkout is recounted by Danny Fields. No mention of Squeeze but we do get footage from Le Bataclan. A coda offers a scattering of moments for each of the principals in the decades to come (and a glimpse of the 1993 reunion).  This sort of documentary always rises and falls based on the quality of the talking heads and they are pretty good here, particularly Jonathan Richman (who says he saw VU sixty or seventy times!). To Haynes’ credit, there’s precious little gossip here, with the focus primarily on the story of the band at the time it unfolded (and no irrelevant future stars recounting their later influence). As such, two hours seemed too short – I wanted more detail, more depth, longer music clips, more more more!  But as music docs go, this is definitely all killer/no filler, perhaps best particularly for the uninitiated (if any such people exist), as an entrée to the music itself, of course.