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TomWaist
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Point Blank (1967)
Expressionistic neo-noir combines the best of the European New Wave and American 40's film-noir
Excerpt from a longer review.
A lot comes to mind when trying to write about Boorman's 1967 revenge movie 'Point Blank.' First of all there are the other films. Those it inspired, for instance Soderbergh's 'The Limey' (1999) which tells a similar tale of revenge in a similar somewhat expressionistic and distorted style and Tarantino's 'Reservoir Dogs' (1992) Tarantino once mentioned in an interview that Boorman inspired his heist flick, though, in my opinion, there is not much Boorman in 'Reservoir Dogs,' except for maybe the protagonists' obsession with a certain McGuffin (as Hitchcock would call it), in this case a sum of 93.000 dollars, which, in the end, they never get their hands on.
Then there are the films that inspired 'Point Blank.' There's a lot of film-noir in this film. Huston's classics such as 'Treasure Of The Sierra Madre' (1948) and 'The Maltese Falcon' (1941) come to mind, because they both tell the story of characters "hunting" for a certain object. But not only the story and its characters bear resemblance to the great film-noirs of the 40's, 'Point Blank' has an overall gritty though "blanc" film-noir feel to it. This partly has to do with the cinematography, which is very noir-ish in a sense, but
in color.
But this is not the reason I'm calling this a neo-noir. The basis for that statement can be found in many European films, especially those of the French New Wave (or Nouvelle Vague). In a way 'Point Blank' is a sort of Americanized Godard. Some of the surreal and expressionistic ways in which Boorman montages his tale remind me of Godard's 'À Bout De Soufflé' (1960) and even Lee Marvin's acting this stoic, almost dehumanized and Neanderthal "man of stone" reminds me of the way Bresson told his actors to act; almost like puppets, like they're propelled by feelings they don't even seem to understand themselves.
I can understand why Tarantino probably treasures 'Point Blank.' It mainly has to do with that fact that this film also brings to mind a lot of Asian cinema. Revenge is a major theme in quite a bit of movies from that continent and I wouldn't be amazed if films such as Ji-Woon's 'A Bittersweet Life' (2005) which, by the way, has the same "this all could have been a dream" possibility to it are partially inspired by 'Point Blank.' Of course the blade cuts on both sides and it could well be that Boorman was inspired by Asian films
though that is just speculation, and I would doubt it being true.
I've always been a softy for film-noir from the 40's and the strangely stylized American films of the 60's and 70's, such as Peckinpah's 'The Getaway' (1972), 'The Mechanic' (1972) and that other great revenge film 'Death Wish' (1974) the last two directed by Michael Winner and with that other great stoic actor: Charles Bronson. To respect cinema, in general, one must be able to A. accept and respect the movie B. nullify oneself, and C. accept and respect the Zeitgeist in which it was made. Using word a word as "dated" for describing any film is not only disrespectful to the film itself, but also to an entire part of history. When one transposes oneself to the era in which a movie takes place or was made a richer and more thoughtful viewing experience will be the result. This may sound like downright Zen/Buddhist jibber jabber, but it works for me
most of the time.
That said I'm going to say one or two things about the way montage is used in 'Point Blank.' Distant past, (near) past and present are sometimes inter-cut. This means that in some instances we see Walker (Marvin) do the same thing, but just in a different point of the story. Or, like in the exhilarating beginning, we see Walker walking through a corridor. His feet smashing against the pavement. Tap tap tap tap; hypnotizing. Then we cut to his wife getting dressed. We cut back to Walker marching. Cut to his wife. Cut to Walker again. His wife. Walker driving a car to his wife's house
but the tapping of his shoes goes on. Here the sound of the near past overlaps the present. Suddenly the music joins and the footsteps work like a rhythmic instrument. Later, when Walker confronts Brewster (O'Connor) to only be confronted and lectured by him -, when Walker knocks out Brewster's bodyguard and Brewster knows it is him, we suddenly cut back to scenes of Walker smashing other people's faces in. Like Boorman is saying: "This is Walker, Brewster. Remember how he's the guy that fights and kills people?" Brewster's logical reaction is: "Walker? You're a very bad man, Walker, a very destructive man! Why do you run around doing things like this?" (For a better, but equally sincere analysis of this scene, I redirect you to Martin Scorsese's 'A Personal Journey with Martin Scorsese Through American Movies' (1995).) To me these (montage) techniques are very European. They remind me of the jump cuts of the Nouvelle Vague.
In the end 'Point Blank' will probably be understood by movie lovers and especially those with a passion for film-noir or films from the 60's and 70's , Lee Marvin-fans, those of you who want to find out where Soderbergh and Tarantino got their style from or men. Like most noirs, it's all about guys.
Control (2004)
Split quality
Thought the story of Tim Hunter's Controle, about the reprogramming of a psychopath, is intriguing, this film displays one of the major Hollywood cliché problems. What I am referring to is the fact that the first part of Controle is, without any doubt, the best part. This half is well-written, sometimes visually attractive (f.i. the flashback of Liotta's character shooting an innocent man, followed by a cgi blood drop that falls down on his shoulder) and by far the best acted 'phase' of the movie. This is also the slowest part of the film. The characters and their problems are set and displayed.
I was impressed with Liotta's depiction of murderer Lee Ray, who changes, through the experimental drug Anagress, from a killer to a nice, relaxed and friendly person.
In a way Dafoe is a miscast. Every scene seems like he's not acting his best and in the most fascinating scenes Liotta simply 'outguns' Dafoe's performance. He makes it look too much like a routine job. I remember he did the same thing in Paul Auster's Lulu on the Bridge (1998). Though he was splendid in Cronenberg's eXistenZ (1999).
And now for the second part... The second half of Controle is what I referred to before as a Hollywood problem. The first half can be called a 'psychological drama/thriller', the second part though tries to become a fast-paced 'action flick'. Which could have been great, if the first part hadn't been so fascinating. It almost seems as though Hunter suddenly screams in the middle: "Ok, guys, let's take it to the bank!"
The idea of a medicine that would alter our behaviour isn't that refreshing, but the way it is acted and depicted in the first part of the movie is fine. I must admit that I was moved by Liotta apologizing to his victim. That is the power of Liotta's acting in Controle: he actually succeeds in making you feel sorry for him, while you feel detested by the psycho he in the first few scenes.
One thing the movie touches nicely, though very Hollywood-esquire, is the philosophy of 'second chance'. Lee Ray is handed a second chance after his death sentence and faked lethal injection. While dieing near the end of the film the flashbacks of his life are different from the ones he experiences in the beginning of the film, during the lethal injection. He dies with guilt, but also with a few (new) good memories of things he DID handle right.
Overall Controle is (because of the lacking second part) a mediocre movie. A typical dime-store Hollywood production. But I cannot admit there are some very interesting ideas and performances in it.