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Panique (1946)
A brave denunciation of mob rule
Panique (1946, Black and White), a French crime drama, is very profound. It simply mesmerizes. The actors are all terrific, the dialogue is superb and Julien Duvivier's direction is very instructive. It tells an excellent story, which really connects to viewers on an individual basis. Considering the war-torn era (1946) from which it emerged, a period when conformity must have prevailed, Panique is an exceedingly brave denunciation of mob rule.
In the Paris suburbs, an old maid has been murdered. The police have no clues. The misanthropic, Monsieur Hire (Michel Simon, age 51, in a career defining performance) is the only member of the working-class town who does not show concern for the deceased. Monsieur Hire is Mister Unpopular. No one else enjoys his gloomy, occasionally very creepy company. He is emblematic of a person that everyone else likes to pick on. (While there are no explicit politics in the film, it appears the Jewish appearance of M. Hire in 1946 France spoke on behalf of those being persecuted by the rise of Fascism.)
Shortly before the maid's demise, the ravishing Alice (Viviane Romance) was released from prison. She had taken the rap for some (unmentioned) crime committed by her boyfriend, Alfred (Paul Bernard). The perpetually scheming Alfred is regarded as handsome by both Alice and an especially vocal prostitute. However, Alfred is a scumbag; as not only did he commit the crime for which Alice went to jail, but he is also the person who brutally killed the old maid. (It was during a botched robbery seeking the servant's money. BTW, the story reveals the maid's killer early on.)
As Alice returns to society, she and Alfred pretend not to know each other. They put on an act for observers by pretending to fall in love at first sight. Tensions elevate when Monsieur Hire begins staring at the two from his adjacent apartment. We will learn that the dour old man finds Alice so attractive that he watches her even when she is alone with Alfred. When Alfred realizes the spying is occurring he becomes incensed with the older man. Alfred employs his unique charisma to convince Alice to get to know Monsieur for the purpose of finding some way to hurt him.
While teasing him with her sensuous wiles, Alice becomes acquainted with the Monsieur. Contrary to the public perception of him, it turns out that Monsieur is actually very sharp, firm in temperament and possessing quiet confidence. Yet, the older person just can't grasp she is with Alfred. Monsieur immediately falls in love with the woman and proposes marriage to her.
As the conclusion draws near we have a woman who is loved by two men. One of the men is a peerless manipulator and a murderer for a crime still under investigation. The other man is as widely unpopular as he is misanthropic. The story (adapted from Georges Simenon's novel by Charles Spaak and Julien Duvivier) leads to a predictable but unforgettable finish. As a viewer, you feel very alone; certainly the haunting conclusion speaks very truthfully about this world.
The running time is 91 minutes. The scenes flow seamlessly. If it is possible to feel this way about a Black and White movie, the events seem to be unfolding before your eyes. (By the way, it is interesting how Paul Bernard's name is reportedly the 24th listed in the credits. Perhaps this was done so not to encourage children to admire Alfred.)
Julien Duvivier's direction in this is highly regarded by many. I really enjoyed noticing when Duvivier has his camera tilting up at an actor, versus looking down; as well as when someone's entire body is seen or just part of it. Duvivier's imagery utilizes the entire frame. This director tells a great story. Overall, every participant makes a perfect contribution.
I recommend Panique very highly. C'est la vie!
(Note to IMDb: I am not sure whether I have spoiled anything. So, I checked off "contains spoiler" to be sure I don't.)
The Martian (2015)
Intense but Fun Ride
"The Martian (2015, Ridley Scott)" is pretty good overall, but riddled with enough flaws you want to warn people about.
It is occasionally more intense than pleasurable. (For example, Matt Damon's injured astronaut performing desperate surgery on himself. We get prolonged looks at the bleeding gut.). Also, it is often a tepid music video, particularly during the schmaltzy sequence when David Bowie's "Starman" is heard.
The propaganda elements are also all over the place. The head of NASA (played by Jeff Daniels) actually cares about whether a lone astronaut stranded on Mars lives or not. What a nice guy. Also, nearly every woman working at NASA is really hot. I also get a kick out of the plot turn where an odd, reclusive wonder kind uses a supercomputer to verify a gravity assist algorithm--and he's the only person at NASA who had thought of using what would seem to be a common maneuver.
The science is interesting but dumb in crucial places. What confuses me the most is how initially it takes hours to communicate to Astronaut Matt Damon on Mars, when later that communication is instantaneous. (As evident by the Times Square euphoria.) Did Matt build a new Internet?
However...the good side is The Martian shows us a doomed character using his wits to postpone his fate. There is also a lot of admirable teamwork, and resistance to authority when necessary.
The acting is very good. Matt Damon and Jessica Chastain really show up. They both are larger than life; just what we expect in movie stars. (But isn't Matt Damon a bit old to be an astronaut assigned a Mars mission?) I wasn't keen on Ridley Scott's direction, but the Martian landscape is always enjoyable.
If you can handle the shocks and intensity of a modern US movie, you will like this. Otherwise, avoid.
Touch of Evil (1958)
The Big Man's Peculiar Vision
****Good summary from stephen-357 ("Another touch of brilliance from Welles", stephen-357 from United States, 26 January 2005). Also, Brandt Sponseller ("A beautiful, haunting and complex film noir", Brandt Sponseller from New York City, 11 July 2005) has a good review.****
"Touch of Evil (Orson Welles, 1958)" is baroque. Orson Welles adapted the novel ("Badge of Evil", by Whit Masterson); he also directs and stars. Reviewers are mixed on "Touch of Evil". While many regard it as Welles's best film, the holes in the story are too large for others. It sure is refreshing to see a movie that isn't remotely commercial. The cardinal rule in Welles's films is never, ever shoot a scene that resembles anything else ever made.
The three and a half minute sequence at the start is justifiably famous. Without a cut, we see a bomb planted in the trunk of a car, the driver of the car unwittingly takes off, the camera backs up while climbing over a building, the car is again seen on a street, and on the sidewalk walking in the same direction as the doomed vehicle are Mike and Susan Vargas (Charlton Heston and Janet Leigh), presumably newlyweds very much in love. Henry Mancini's Latin score adds a very jazzy vibe. Set on the border between Mexico and the US, once the bomb goes off both countries are represented with the subsequent criminal investigation.
Police Captain Hank Quinlan (Welles) assumes the leadership role. Vargas joins in despite technically being a Mexican narcotics officer. The pair could not be more different. While Vargas adheres to strict ethics, we eventually learn that Quinlan has spent decades sending suspects to the "death house" based on falsely planted evidence. When Vargas openly questions Quinlan's claimed discovery of dynamite in the home of a suspect in the car bombing, the two duel until one is victorious.
It may surprise some with how grotesque and loathsome the director (Welles) makes the principal antagonist (i.e., Welles again) appear. Welles is only 43 when the film is released, but he looks twenty five years older. The physical transformation between the still nimble Orson Welles in "The Third Man (1949)," to the corpulent Quinlan, is difficult to believe. While Welles let himself go on the outside, he never lost his distinctly original visual flair. He often uses cranes for aerial shots, employs deep focus and keeps objects moving. Along with his famously deep and penetrating voice, the effect is larger than life. Still, one of the more legitimate complaints made by critics is that it is distracting when Quinlan interrupts other characters as they are speaking.
Nevertheless, the talented cast thrives in the big man's shadow. In a small, uncredited role, look out for the great Joseph Cotten as the coroner. Another veteran of Welles's films is Ray Collins as the District Attorney. A comely Zsa Zsa Gabor portrays a strip-club owner. Mercedes McCambridge has a delicious role as a sadistic, lesbian gang leader. Dennis Weaver is a mentally challenged hotel clerk. Joseph Calleia is memorable as Pete Menzies, Quinlan's only friend. Also, Akim Tamiroff as the Mexican gangster Uncle Joe Grandi. Tamiroff is especially effective portraying a not particularly frightening, toupée-adorned patriarch of a crime family.
As Susan Vargas, Janet Leigh is an attractive, resilient woman stuck in an isolated motel room who is threatened with an invasion. (Two years later she has a similar predicament in Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho.") Some critics of the story have trouble with Vargas stashing his exhausted wife away in a remote hotel when the Grandi family is lurking. However, there is no reason to fault Leigh's expression of terror when it is next door.
Curiously, there are two Mexican roles played with little effort towards authenticity. Marlene Dietrich is Tana, the proprietor of a Mexican brothel. Speaking with a fatigued, world-weary voice and smoking cigars, Dietrich's observant character is one of the most admirable here, even if she is not trying to be Mexican. (BTW, what amazing cheekbones she has.) In addition, Charlton Heston's portrayal of Vargas is often derided, possibly unfairly. Early on, Quinlan himself declares that Vargas does not look Mexican. So it doesn't appear to have been terribly important to Welles that Vargas actually speak as if he has ever lived South of the border. However, controversy appears with the face paint and thin mustache that Heston is wearing. Vargas is still a heroic figure even if Heston's effort of portraying a Mexican is somewhat ludicrous.
Quibbles aside, this is a memorable film made by legendary artist with enormous passion.
Don't Think I've Forgotten: Cambodia's Lost Rock & Roll (2014)
Mesmerizing return to a nightmare
***Recommend coolyaron10's remarks. ("A fascinating insight into an obscure history", coolyaron10, 12 January 2014).***
"Don't Think I've Forgotten: Cambodia's Lost Rock and Roll (2014, John Pirozzi)," a documentary showing a country's descent into barbarism, is very moving. Essential viewing, it should have been recognized by the 85th Academy Awards?. Cambodia's transition from a modernizing Eastern country being energized by Western pop culture to a worse place than Hell should be remembered, particularly in the country which is responsible for so much of the destruction.
Nine years in the making, "Forotten" describes how Cambodia's independence from France in 1953 led to the King Norodom Sihanouk era. Sihanouk comes off here as a benevolent dictator. Himself a singer and from a family with a passion for the arts, Sihanouk's culturally progressive but politically repressive regime was in contradiction. Sihanouk managed to keep Cambodia neutral for years, keeping a low profile during the conflicts between the Eastern powers and the US.
(For a detailed examination of Cambodia, I recommend the writing of Noam Chomsky? and Edward S. Herman?. Chomsky and Herman argue that the US deliberately bombed Cambodia to the Stone Age in order to create the conditions for the Khmer Rouge to form. The idea that the architects of the war were trying to create a monster like Pol Pot is seldom expressed in public even today. While "Forgotten" does not spell everything out, it shows US bombers dropping their payload. Many flag-waving Americans believe July Fourth is not an appropriate day for this conversation. My personal belief is that criticism of the US military's propensity to bomb the crap out of small nations is one of the more patriotic ways to mark Independence Day.)
Much of the film's running time focuses on the beautiful music between 1953 and 1975. Cambodia embraced Cuban jazz, pre-Beatles pop stars, the Rolling Stones and later, Santana. (What about the Beatles?) Often the Cambodian rockers lifted the western songs completely, adding Khmer lyrics to them. Other times, they produced sublime ballads featuring duets between leading male and female singers. The fresh and strange quality this music brings to Western ears is one of the great delights of this film.
The leading musical figure was Sin Sisamuth?, who remained at the top throughout the period in question. Sisamouth achieved national standing with exquisitely presented ballads, some of which he wrote. As Western music changed in the 1960s, so did Sisamouth; he was experimenting with jazz and garage rock when not singing duets with lovely Cambodian singers. We hear fragments of the duets. Sisamouth paired with the enchanting Ros Sereysothea? is of particularly high quality, and must be heard to be believed.
The people who are interviewed represent a variety of economic stations. All of them, including two US officials, seem to be burdened with the memory of "The Killing Fields" (as the Khmer Rouge's bloody reign is often called). This is a small spoiler, but the film concludes with Phnom Penh? today. Life goes on, and hopefully the future there will know great culture without authoritarian backlash.
"Don't Think I've Forgotten: Cambodia's Lost Rock and Roll," is a vital, mesmerizing documentary.
Fa yeung nin wah (2000)
Neckties and dress collars
***Recommend the comments from Ed Gonzalez ("Possibly Wong Kar-Wai's best film", Ed Gonzalez, 17 December 2000)***
"In the Mood for Love (Kar Wai Wong, 2000)," a whispered secret in a hollow, is oozing with style. Visually and audibly, it teases the viewer into believing the platonic relationship between two married Japanese neighbors is about to go horizontal. Poetic and somewhat dreamlike, "In the Mood" is still erotic, even though the two leading figures are keeping their clothes on and often just holding hands.
Set in 1963 Hong Kong, Mrs. Chan (Maggie Cheung) and Chow Mo-wan (Tony Chiu Wai Leung) are both married and living in the same apartment building. Their respective spouses are both absent. (They never appear; we only hear their voices.) The estranged pair believe the missing spouses are having an affair. Tony Leung's character is a journalist, and rather stoic. While his wife stays away, Chow continues to see Mrs. Chan frequently. He gradually becomes interested in Mrs. Chan, a proficient secretary for a shipping firm.
During a heavenly rainstorm he makes a move: A gentle hand touch, even when expected, arrives to the other hand as a question. Minutes later she has a clever response. Her blink-and-you-miss- it, well-placed finger touch on his dark slacks (just below his belt) happens to speak volumes to the man's central control. Even though Mrs. Chan routinely shows interest in Chow, she has no plans to adulterate. Chow eventually leases an apartment for them and they spend a lot of time together. A favorite game is play-acting that one or both is the missing spouse of the other. This always leads to the same question: If they are, why can't we?
Whenever their relationship seems to cool, Mike Galasso's exquisite music arrives and the principal characters move in slower motion. These moments are really invigorating. The best part is when Gallasso's music is playing and the two are passing each other on their nightly noodle run. They are an attractive, well-dressed pair.
Both dress fabulously. He habitually wears business clothes; i.e., a suit, (minus the jacket), dark slacks and a white dress shirt. He perpetually wears a necktie that varies in its degree of perceived torture. The stoic Chow enjoys smoking, and the silky clouds of spent tobacco often linger over him to become his only visible sign of frustration. Curiously, while Mrs. Chan's dresses vary in color, they all have high collars. (Her wardrobe apparently only consists of dresses with high collars.) Ms. Cheung's neck is so habitually covered that it appears to represent her fidelity. (Is this commonly used in Eastern culture?)
Kar Wai Wong wrote the narrative, which is filled with ordinary conversation made interesting by the appealing actors. Wong also directed. Along with his cinematographers, the visual aesthetics are elite. The color choices, the lighting and the moments which look like they were actually filmed in 1963 are very impressive. One simply gets taken away with "In the Mood"'s jazzy vibe. The closing scenes unfold masterfully.
Don't fret cinephiles: Your first date can be Monday night screening of "In the Mood". However, never forget that there are always two sides to every love story--or failed love story.
Pather Panchali (1955)
Turning On a Light
Pather Panchali (1955, Satyajit Ray), a study of childhood, is one of the greatest films of all time. Widely regarded as India's best movie, it is a major cultural landmark. It made an instant superstar out of Satyajit Ray. Despite the frequency of scenes depicting mundane life for a family of four peasants in India, "Pather Panchali" really packs an emotional punch.
It is based on Bibhutibhushan Bandopadhyay's 1929 Bengali novel. Apu (Subir Banerjee), a young boy, is the protagonist. In one of his earliest scenes, we wonder if he will wake up to face the day. Apu has a naughty older sister Durga (Uma Das Gupta). Durga's habitual lying and stealing causes conflicts with the neighbors. Sarbojaya Ray (Karuna Bannerjee), mother of Apu and Dirga, is frustrated with her daughter's ways but must defend her from accusation. The patriarch, Harihar Ray (Kanu Bannerjee) is emotionally distant from the troubles of the other three family members. He's a priest earning meager wages during the work day. At night he cheerfully writes poetry, plays and stories with the optimism his artistry can wipe out his family's debt. Indir Thakrun (Chunibala Devi) is the very old (80) aunt who also annoys the matriarch. The needy old woman is the picture of misery. (While Chunibala Devi died before the film was released, Ray had visited her and showed her an early version.)
"Pather Panchali" was controversial at the time for its unflinching depiction of villagers experiencing bone-crushing poverty. Destitution is weighing everyone down, like gravity. There are scenes where characters eat rice with their fingers from a bowl on the floor and it feels like you have been transported to rural India. Yet the peasants are mostly stoic, and inspiring for how they generally cope with their burdens.
Two performances really strike a chord. Karuna Bannerjee as the beleaguered, fatigued mother trying to discipline as well as hold her family together is amazing to watch. When she mentions during one moment of despair that she used to have dreams of a better life it really pulls heartstrings. Uma Das Gupta as Apu's naughty sister Dirga is also very memorable. The mother and daughter roles are both exquisitely realized. The 34-year-old novice director (Satyajit Ray) started his career at a very elite level.
Ray begins the film with many scenes that are dark, even though the family seems to be prospering. When Fate has dealt the family a bad hand, the scenes are well lit and occasionally, in deep focus. The lighting pattern is counter to how many filmmakers would have approached the material. In addition, the conclusion is foreshadowed. Notice how often one character seems to occasionally stumble or falter.
Regarding the music, Sri Sri Ravi Shankar's score adds authenticity and depth to the narrative. Shankar's music is very highly regarded among film critics. It also inspired George Harrison about a decade later.
For those who see "Pather Panchali" on the big screen, expect to emerge from the theater a changed and wiser person. Satyajit Ray demonstrates the world is available to a young artist who hasn't given his soul to the dark side.
Le procès (1962)
Adacious
***Good review from StudlyFoxie ("The Best Legal Drama or Paranoia Film Ever Made", StudlyFoxie from Boston, Mass, 18 April 2004). Also, excellent background info on Kafka and Welles from Michael Coy ("The Logic Of A Dream", Michael Coy from London, England, 29 December 1999).***
"The Trial (1952, Orson Welles)," a surrealistic nightmare, is audacious. Liberated from studio interference, Welles indulges in his love of visual oppression and penetrating diction. Distancing himself from mere mortals who would peer through a camera lens in order to create what has been made before, Welles serves up a uniquely uncompromising expressionistic sojourn, his personal favorite of his catalogue. While it could be tighter the chutzpah on display makes it required viewing for cinephiles . Based loosely on Franz Kafka's story, Josef K. (Anthony Perkins) wakes up one morning to discover that several police officers have entered his bedroom in order to place him under arrest. The grim authorities never disclose the charges. While not taken into custody, everything that Josef K. says and does becomes potential evidence against him.
After a conversation with his landlord Mrs. Grubach (Madeleine Robinson), Josef uses the stress of the moment to make a long- delayed romantic connection with his night-club-working neighbor Marika Burstner (Jeanne Moreau). Marika is terrified of fraternizing with Josef out of concern the landlord will evict her for it. Sure enough, Marika subsequently disappears. In a memorable nighttime outdoor scene, Josef pleads for a disabled woman pulling a trunk with Marika's belongings to tell him what happened to Marika, but she won't. Josef periodically returns to his nightmarish workplace, where approximately 500 of his colleagues operate sewing machines in unison. The authorities move slowly, but eventually they compel Josef to appear before a makeshift tribunal. As with Josef's workplace, it is teeming with people. The Magistrate of the proceeding grants Josef legal protection in the form of the "Advocate." The mostly-bedridden barrister (Orson Welles), who first appears beneath an impressive cloud of tobacco smoke, is never helpful to Josef. The Advocate has a comely live-in nursemaid Leni (Romy Schnieder) who gets turned on when she meets men accused by the State of some crime. Another exceptionally beautiful woman, Hilda, has the same sexual turn-on. The smoldering, traffic-accident-inducing Elsa Martinelli (at the time a very successful Italian fashion model), portrays a second potential love interest that Josef has little interest in. Either Josef is too stressed out to accept the overtures of Leni and Hilda, or perhaps Welles is commenting on Anthony Perkins's real-life homosexuality.
There are clear parallels between Josef's ordeal and Orson Welles's own. Despite his prodigious talents, Hollywood big-shots would not produce his films, forcing Welles to work abroad with meager budgets. It is useful to compare the moments where Josef is speaking despairingly to his accusers with what Orson might tell the Hollywood moguls who refuse to work with him.
Shot in Black and White, "The Trial" is often dazzling. There is little doubt that this is the best use of the Gare d'Orsay location (a former train station in Paris). Welles applies his trademark deep focus, creating a dreamlike atmosphere. His backgrounds are often replete with detail. Moving to the auditory qualities, Welles's fondness of jazz music is apparent when he introduces it during a particularly odd scene when Josef visits an artist's studio. The cast is very theatrical, and the voices are generally all compelling. No cast member's voice is more distinctive and memorable than Welles's familiar baritone, so unrivaled in cinema. (BTW, Welles dubbed in other voices in the cast.) The conversation is very fast-paced; small talk is rare in this authoritarian society.
While dark, relentless and mystifying at times, "The Trial" has moments that are really powerful. If Welles had trimmed about 15 minutes or so it would have been even better. After all, Kafka's writing is notably economical.
Cinephiles are encouraged to take this in. While this era has its own totalitarian nightmare crushing working people into dust, there are no artists working today with the audacity of Orson Welles.
Die bitteren Tränen der Petra von Kant (1972)
Sexless Eroticism
***User-reviewer Alice Liddel ("A searing reminder of what a galvanising experience cinema could be.", Alice Liddel from dublin, ireland 26 March 2001) has an excellent review. Also, Markboulos ("Fassbinder at his finest! Cinema at its finest!", markboulos from Brooklyn, NYC, 3 February 2000) captures the film's quality. Shane James Bordas ("Key Film From The German Master", Shane James Bordas from United Kingdom, 22 August 2006) describes the film's origins. Finally, Lexo-2 ("Great film, glad I don't live there", Lexo-2 from Dublin, Ireland, 1 May 1999) has a nice summary.***
"The Bitter Tears of Petra Von Kant (1972, Rainer Werner Fassbinder ), a ladies-only slumber party, is a slow-paced masterpiece from the renowned German filmmaker. Adapted from Fassbinder's own play, it is set in a single apartment. It consists entirely of conversation that is spoken by world-weary characters. While it will likely bore many casual film-goers, it is a sublime achievement for those willing to stick it out. "Bitter Tears" is very profound and informs on the human condition in various ways.
The titular character, Petra (Margit Carstensen), is a celebrity fashion designer. Petra is used to emotionally dominating the people who surround her. Having been married twice before, Petra explains to her visiting cousin Sidonie (Kartin Schaake) that men now repulse her and women are currently her romantic gender of choice. ("Bitter Tears" shows us a lesbian triangle which seems unusually bold for 1974.) Petra employs a silent servant named Marlene (Irm Hermann) that she continually mistreats. Because Marlene is obviously in love with Petra, her quiet suffering is mesmerizing to observe. (BTW, Fassbinder leaves two essential questions about Marlene unresolved: 1) Is she a mute or just unable to speak in Petra's presence? 2) Is she entirely or partly responsible for Petra's professional success? Leaving Marlene's relationship with Petra ambiguous is an example of Fassbinder's elite skill at story-telling.)
Through Sidonie, Petra meets attractive Karin (Hanna Schygulla). Karin is separated from her husband. Petra immediately falls for her. She tells Karin she has a future as a fashion model. When Karin arrives for a second visit, Petra assumes her customary role as sexual predator. While treating Marlene miserably, Petra tries to seduce the seemingly confused Karin. Unexpectedly, Karin is the real shark. We learn she is taking advantage of Petra. Karin will ultimately stick an emotional dagger through Petra's soul, rejecting her and torturing her before revealing she is returning to her husband. Realizing the consequences of opening one's heart at the wrong place and time, Petra falls apart. On her birthday, Petra has a nervous breakdown which is witnessed by Sidonie, along with Petra's Mother and Daughter.
While interpretations of this film vary, Fassbinder is said to be showing how a group of people can all simultaneously reside in their own mental prisons. He's also employing substitution on many levels. The characters here are all drawn from Fassbinder's relationships with his recurring cast members as well as his conservative mother. As a celebrity designer, Petra is an obvious stand-in for Fassbinder himself. The silent Marlene is regarded as representing the audience early, and later, Karin. (Fassbinder reviewers have noted in other films he uses female characters as substitutes for real-life men he knows.)
Visually, Fassbinder is electric. He is always on point with his imagery; even though this is a low budget production. On the apartment wall there is "a large reproduction of Poussin's Midas and Bacchus (c.1630), which depicts naked and partially clothed men (Wikipedia)." As Petr describes her sexual preference for women to Sidonie, the audience will have little difficulty in discovering the (sleeping) endowment of Poussin's central nude male in the background. Petra's words and the Poussin figure's little man seems to be Fassbinder describing his own homosexuality.
Even though a homo-erotic painting is often present, and a lesbian triangle is in the story, "Bitter Tears" has enough mild eroticism for every individual audience member, regardless their preferred sleeping arrangement. ("Bitter Tears" arrives decades before the Internet confirms the interest hetero guys have in watching lesbians.)
Fassbinder favorite Hanna Schygulla is adorable as the femme fatale. Meanwhile, Margit Carstensen (Petra), also attractive, turns in a superb performance as Petra. (She won awards in Germany, but inexplicably she was not internationally recognized.)
The origin of "Bitter Tears" is legendary. Fassbinder is said to have written the screenplay on an 11-hour plane trip from Germany to L.A. Upon landing, he immediately ordered his film crew (which traveled with him) to return to Germany where they made it in 10 days. This is all astonishing because many reviewers regard "Bitter Tears" as Fassbinder's crowning achievement.
Cinephiles with some patience should not miss this Fassbinder classic.
Le fantôme de la liberté (1974)
Sensibly Non-linear
***User-reviewer Claudio Carvalho ("A Delicious Surrealistic Satire to the Moral and Costumes of the Society, to the Family and to the Church", Claudio Carvalho from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 5 May 2005) has interesting comments. Also, Hasosch ("The Dissolution of Form and Function", hasosch from United States, 19 July 2007) takes a stab at interpreting it.***
"Phantom Liberty (1974, Luis Buñuel)," a surreal comment on the ruling class, is a curious, occasionally very disturbing work arranged with quality. Seemingly a nearly random series of absurd and/or awkward moments, it makes much more sense when one does not seek a linear narrative. Some cinema scholars have noted the connections it makes with the work of Italy's Pier Paolo Pasolini, who was at the time a contemporary of Buñuel's in film surrealism. (Buñuel has a character named Doctor Pasolini. Unfortunately for art house cinema fans, the highly provocative Pasolini was tragically murdered in 1975.)
"Phantom Liberty" contains some ideas which can be enjoyed by many people. One of the most popular moments is when concerned parents seek help from French authorities for their missing daughter, while she is sitting nearby (and the adults all interact with her). Also, a poet-turned-sniper, initially witnessed inside a tower committing a horrific massacre of unsuspecting, random adults at street level, is subsequently tried in a formal court of law. Once the sentence of death has been delivered with stern finality by the judge, the poet-sniper is promptly freed, congratulated and treated like a major celebrity.
There are also scenes that are consciously disturbing. We open with French troops executing Spanish civilians in 1808. (One of the victims is Buñuel.) Later, a young nephew seeks to fulfill his sexual urges with his considerably older, virginal Aunt. There is also the justifiably famous scene where a ruling class family meet at a large table not to dine, but to sit on and use toilets. The actors play this singularly bizarre moment straight, as if they were appearing in a mainstream movie. Some religious people will also likely find offensive the way a group of middle-aged monks relax in the evening. First, they meet to pray with an attractive woman (of the same age) in her bedroom. Later, the monks and the woman are observed playing poker like card sharks, smoking like chimneys and calling some cards "virgins." The partying monks will conclude their evening by witnessing an S & M session.
Speaking of the latter, Italian siren Adriana Asti appears in two especially erotic scenes. We see her early on as a stunning, head- turning dominatrix. Later, she is a pianist performing a Brahms piano concerto liberated from the confines of all her clothing. (Warning: Please don't drive or operate heavy machinery while watching Asti seemingly tickling the ivories in her birthday suit.) Buñuel uses the naked pianist at the right time to keep the viewer interested.
If one wishes to make sense of the chaotic narrative, try applying the visuals of a scene with the dialogue of the scene that follows. Doing so takes some effort, but the payoff is uncovering Buñuel's true nature, which is far more conservative than he is generally perceived.
At the film's conclusion, the French police commissioner--played by two actors simultaneously—is considering a brutal military assault on the general public watching animals at the local zoo. Throughout, Buñuel seems to be drawing comparisons between the ruling class and the animals in captivity. This idea lends some explanation for the family on toilets scene and the other scatological moments. Buñuel is narrowing the gap between humans and animals in defiance of the behavioral norms that most people associate with an evolved species.
While not for everyone, "Phantom Liberty" should be seen by cinephiles who understand surrealism often comments on life more directly than traditional narratives do. While it seems perfectly mad to many, Buñuel's effort here is just as not much more insane than the news horror story we are being exposed to daily.
National Gallery (2014)
Necessary and Compelling
"National Gallery" (2014, Frederick Wiseman), a documentary about the renowned British art museum, makes a strong case for major arts institutions. With a three-hour running time, we finish with a firm idea of both the inestimable value and fragility of The National Gallery. With a haphazard, seemingly random structure, the documentary shows people regardless of their actual involvement with the museum. We see patrons silently absorbing art; board members discussing their goals; curators discussing philosophy and techniques; janitors; wall painters; a board meeting where the discussion is about an unwelcome public marathon; budget cuts discussed at another board meeting; various educators, various video crews, museum guides analyzing master works; a male and a female nude model separately posing for what appears to be an advanced art class; adventurous Arctic activists bravely hoisting a banner at the museum's entrance; a pianist performing amid priceless paintings and a reasonably erotic, heterosexual ballet dance. Wiseman makes a compelling statement about the worth of visual arts, and it couldn't arrive to this brutal world at a better time.
Curiously, Wiseman does not introduce museum employees with captions or inform the viewer what event is occurring. This helps makes his statement universal. Rather than just a story of the National Gallery, the viewer is encouraged to gain appreciation for his or her local cultural institutions.
There are some memorable segments. I really enjoy the brief excerpts of lectures where experts interpret details in master works. The discussion of Paul Reubens's "Samson and Delilah (1609- 1610)" is interesting. So is the curator's lecture describing a Rembrandt portrait with a hidden second composition of the same subject. One of the senior museum big shots tells a laugh-out-loud joke about Moses and the Ten Commandments. Another museum guide informs a group of adolescents, several of whom are Black, that the Gallery owes its early funding to the Slave Trade. Leonardo da Vinci's power is also expressed or suggested multiple times. Finally, the ballet dance that is staged in the vicinity of two large master works reminds us that visual arts tickle the public's imagination in many ways.
It is an uneven journey, but it finishes with rising interest. "The National Gallery" will likely be enjoyed by artists of many disciplines who wish to be reminded of culture's power. It sure would be nice if the arts flourished in this particularly barbaric period while the world's militaries languished.
A Canterbury Tale (1944)
Traditional British Inspiration
***Good review from drednm ("Dennis Price in His First Starring Role", drednm from United States, 10 June 2013). Also, jeremy corbett's review ("'What I wouldn't give to grow old in a place like this'", jeremy corbett UK, 10 April 2006) has spoilers, but is also worthwhile.***
"A Canterbury Tale (1944, Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger) is a traditional, quintessentially English film that works on many levels. While gentle in its approach, it is transcendent, producing a feeling of ecstasy at the conclusion. Despite serving as a propaganda statement for war-weary Britons, "Canterbury Tale" is a timeless source of inspiration.
Set on the eve of D-Day, a spirited "Land Girl" named Alison Smith (Sheila Sim), an American GI named Bob Johnson (real-life Yankee GI John Sweet) and British soldier Peter Gibbs (Dennis Price) are train passengers who wind up stranded at night in a small Kent town on the road to fabled Canterbury, UK. As the three walk to the village in the dark, Alison is attacked by a uniformed figure that the townsfolk have named "The Glue Man." During the brief encounter, the Glue Man applies the irritating sticky stuff to Alison's hair, just as he has done to nearly a dozen other young women. After trying unsuccessfully to remove the irksome contamination, fiery Alison first convinces Bob, and later Peter, to help her expose the identity of the culprit to the village. The investigation invariably leads to Thomas Colpeper, Jr. (Eric Portman), who the three met the night of the incident. He is a bachelor, farmer, magistrate, historian, lecturer and a pillar of the community.
Most of the situations that follow concern ordinary life in a small English town. The central mystery is just a device that allows Powell and Pressburger to include a slew of memorable British characters, all of which are given ample opportunity to breathe. At the same time, scenes unfold briskly, with rapid-fire dialog throughout. It is hard to imagine any improvement in the story telling; and each scene is magnificent to look at.
When sharing a cart on the road to Canterbury, former London shop girl Alison and slow-talking, small town-reared Bob appear to be heading for a romance. Temptation rises when we learn that Bob's girl back in the States hasn't written him in nearly two months. Also, Alison's boyfriend is MIA and is regarded as a war casualty. However, the work obligations of both force them to part ways. Later, Alison and Peter are reunited on a country road when she and her horse-drawn cart are surrounded by tanks that Peter and his company are training with. Alison is furious at the display of force being directed against her (and her hard-working equine). Her frustration mirrors the theme expressed by the narrator in the film's beginning; i.e., the British countryside which remained largely unchanged since the days of Geoffrey Chaucer is suddenly being overridden by soldiers and their war machines. While outwardly patriotic, "Canterbury Tale" contains anti-war sentiments, particularly when we see the tanks callously run over non-combatant foliage.
When the four pilgrims finally reach Canterbury, cinematic magic occurs. Adhering to legend, the famous cathedral is where the four can expect to "receive blessings or do penance." Without revealing too much, penance is tasked to the man who opens his heart only to have it broken.
With one exception, the entire cast is mesmerizing. This includes the children who play at war. Sheila Sim, Dennis Price and Eric Portman all possess very sonorous voices that are exquisite to listen to. The narrator, Esmond Knight, has two other roles: He is the soldier during the lecture who befriends Bob; and also the stuttering, drunken town fool. The only actor who is a little unconvincing is US Army Sergeant John Sweet, who was not an actor (and never appears again in a film). Sweet does tend to annoy at times with his overly nasal speaking qualities and callow manner. Considering how sexually fearless Sheila Sim's Alison seems to be, Sweet seems to be out of his league when paired with her in the same scene.
Powell and Pressburger serve up one exquisite Black and White image after another. There are plenty of visual gags; but you need to detect them quickly before the next image arrives. Fans of endearing British cinema and/or those who draw inspiration from ancient traditions should not miss this unusual film that restores faith. Many of us certainly could use a reversal of fortune, from whatever source.
Detour (1945)
The Hitchhiking Pianist
***Good review from bmacv ("An unforgettable accident that paved the low road for film noir", bmacv from Western New York, 14 July 2004). Also, JohnWelles ("From Straw Comes Gold", JohnWelles from United Kingdom, 13 April 2011) has an interesting commentary.***
Detour (1945, Edgar G. Ulmer) is a low-budget, Film Noir cult film that entertains today. Three drifters are experiencing a luckless world without pity. While the production qualities are uneven, the 67 minutes spent taking in "Detour" feels very worthwhile.
Al Roberts (Tom Neal--more on him later) is an embittered, impoverished pianist who accompanies his chanteuse girlfriend Sue (Claudia Drake) for the listening pleasure of drunks at an all-night Manhattan nightclub. The pair are excellent musicians: She sings beautifully while he improvises Chopin skillfully.
Unfortunately, they both know they are far from the station that they each deserve. Hearing ambition's lonely call, she moves to Hollywood. In time he decides to follow her by way of hitchhiking. Traveling by the kindness of strangers is going well until he catches a ride near Phoenix from a Miami-based bookmaker named Charles Haskell Jr. (Edmund MacDonald). Haskell is a link between Roberts, a lost family fortune and a terrifying ex-girlfriend, Vera (Ann Savage). When Haskell dies, apparently because of a heart attack, the innocent Roberts fears the State will unfairly convict and execute him for murder. So he dumps the corpse and assumes Haskell's identity while driving to meet Sue in Los Angeles. Who today would do otherwise?
Reality sets in after Al Roberts picks up Vera, who is also hitchhiking to LA. Vera, the deceased's former flame, surprises Roberts by immediately seeing through the deception that he is Haskell. They form a bipolar partnership, as the generally spineless and misanthropic Roberts is increasingly controlled by the treacherous and beguiling Vera. In Los Angeles, she convinces him to sell the car and pose with her as the married Haskells. When alone in their hotel room, she manipulates him while also trying to seduce him. The two are building up to a violent conclusion; but when it arrives it is not nature's preferred way. Nor does the finale resemble any other story's conclusion in recorded history.
The songstress Sue and the sociopathic Vera are both irresistible in their own, dissimilar ways. Dour, moody and pessimistic, Al Roberts is worthwhile because of the plethora of memorably fatalistic lines he delivers in his voice-over. While the two female actresses both hit their roles out of the park, there is some question about Tom Neal's work in the lead role. Perhaps it is too out of character for him to portray someone allowing a dame to emasculate him so much.
(After Detour's release, Neal's real-life brutality was revealed publicly. His first wife, to actress and singer Vicky Lane, ended in divorce with her citing "mental and physical cruelty." In 1951, the former boxer Neal severely beat up actor Franchot Tone, in a fight that started out of jealousy. In 1961, Neal is a gardener living in Palm Springs with his wife Gale Bennett, a receptionist. During a violent argument, she is shot and killed. Neal claimed he shot her during a struggle and he was subsequently convicted of manslaughter.)
According to legend, "Detour", a leading example of a "Poverty Row" production, was filmed in just six days for $30,000. It has a huge following. The Black and White photography is suitably grim for film noir. "Detour" is possibly the most popular low-budget film ever made; I don't know anyone who doesn't enjoy it. It is a perfect hour to spend for those of us who understand life to be one slap to the face after another.
This is great "B" movie with some obvious flaws. However, please exercise caution if you plan to thumb a ride to the revival theater showing this.
The Night of the Hunter (1955)
Kids who move crazy fast
****Good review from paulhjrickards ("Sleep, Lit'le ones, sleep...",
paulhjrickards from London, England, 23 September 2002). Infofreak
("One of the most extraordinary movies...", Infofreak from Perth,
Australia, 20 May 2004) has a good discussion about what genre it fits
in. Finally, Pontifikator ("An interesting failure", pontifikator from
United States, 5 November 2009) offers his insights on the
direction.****
"Night of the Hunter (1955, Charles Laughton), Love and Hate tattooed
across the knuckles, is one of the most frightening films ever made.
It also contains a slab of syrupy country Grandma charm. Often
classified as Film Noir, it shows us what is really terrifying in this
life while making sure the audience leaves the theater well grounded
Demonstrating real charisma and a credible singing voice, Robert
Mitchum is devastatingly good as the serial-killing preacher, Harry
Powell. (The character is loosely-based on real-life serial killer
Harry Powers, executed in 1932.) After being arrested for auto theft,
the switch-blade wielding Powell shares his cell with Ben Harper (Peter
Graves), who is shortly going to be hanged for killing two people
during a bank robbery. Prior to being arrested, Harper hid the loot
from the robbery, entrusting his two children, John (Billy Chapin) and
Pearl (Sally Jane Bruce) with the secret of its location. As soon as he
is released from prison, treasure-seeking Harry Powell pursues the
just-widowed Willa (Shelly Winters). Young John, tasked by his (late)
father to look after his younger sister and keep the secret, is the
only one suspicious of the charismatic preacher. With the encouragement
of one of her employers, Willa marries him. Eventually, John must
contend with a much larger adult who wants to kill him (and Pearl).
John's dilemma is still horrifying today.
As a conniving preacher, Mitchum's uncanny charm and ability to
immediately win over unsophisticated rural people works on many levels.
(His knuckle-bearing demonstration of how Love conquers Hate speaks
about the power of organized religion.) However, Powell's misogyny and
righteous celibacy make for extremely creepy moments. To counteract all
of Powell's raging hate, the screenwriters (James Agee and Charles
Laughton) introduce an essential character towards the end of the film
(representing Love), aging matriarch Rachel Cooper (Lillian Gish). She
is a philanthropist and feminist hero who rescues and rears homeless
children. She also is quite capable of using a shotgun to protect her
flock. She is the first adult who sees through Harry Powell and can
stand up to him.
It is curious how Laughton, a renowned thespian in his own right,
apparently wanted his actors and the story to reach the limits of
believability. There are monologues early and late. There are Mitchum's
exaggerated physical gestures when chasing after the children in the
cellar. (Somehow, Powell can never get his adult frame to move faster
than a fleeing child's.) Shelly Winters also portrays the partially mad
widow very woodenly in places. While Billy Chapin as John Harper is
convincing overall, another reviewer points out that he always delays
reacting to every new piece of dialogue in a way that belies his
character's age. Rachel Cooper is a challenging role for Lilian Gish
because of how corny Rachel's lines can be. There is a fairy-tale side
of "Night of the Hunter" that modern audiences, used to fantastic
horrors appearing in the daily nightmare (i.e., news), may find a bit
unnecessary.
This is the only film that Charles Laughton ever directed. He uses
shadows impressively, and his style recalls German Expressionism from
the 1920s. I really like the two scenes with Peter Graves; they are
both very memorable. There are also several images which rank among the
best in movie history. The dead person in the lake is unforgettable.
And, the sight of Harry Powell in silhouette at night time as he croons
a children's hymnal while riding a horse is superb.
Cinephiles who want to experience 1950s era Americana and a really
horrifying story should saddle up their horse and head over to revival
theater showing this.
"Now every cheap hood strikes a bargain with the world, Ends up making
payments on a sofa or a girl. Love 'n hate tattooed across the knuckles
of his hands...
--The Clash, "Death or Glory"
The Night of the Hunter (1955)
Kids who move crazy fast
****Good review from paulhjrickards ("Sleep, Lit'le ones, sleep...",
paulhjrickards from London, England, 23 September 2002). Infofreak
("One of the most extraordinary movies...", Infofreak from Perth,
Australia, 20 May 2004) has a good discussion about what genre it fits
in. Finally, Pontifikator ("An interesting failure", pontifikator from
United States, 5 November 2009) offers his insights on the
direction.****
"Night of the Hunter (1955, Charles Laughton), Love and Hate tattooed
across the knuckles, is one of the most frightening films ever made.
It also contains a slab of syrupy country Grandma charm. Often
classified as Film Noir, it shows us what is really terrifying in this
life while making sure the audience leaves the theater well grounded
Demonstrating real charisma and a credible singing voice, Robert
Mitchum is devastatingly good as the serial-killing preacher, Harry
Powell. (The character is loosely-based on real-life serial killer
Harry Powers, executed in 1932.) After being arrested for auto theft,
the switch-blade wielding Powell shares his cell with Ben Harper (Peter
Graves), who is shortly going to be hanged for killing two people
during a bank robbery. Prior to being arrested, Harper hid the loot
from the robbery, entrusting his two children, John (Billy Chapin) and
Pearl (Sally Jane Bruce) with the secret of its location. As soon as he
is released from prison, treasure-seeking Harry Powell pursues the
just-widowed Willa (Shelly Winters). Young John, tasked by his (late)
father to look after his younger sister and keep the secret, is the
only one suspicious of the charismatic preacher. With the encouragement
of one of her employers, Willa marries him. Eventually, John must
contend with a much larger adult who wants to kill him (and Pearl).
John's dilemma is still horrifying today.
As a conniving preacher, Mitchum's uncanny charm and ability to
immediately win over unsophisticated rural people works on many levels.
(His knuckle-bearing demonstration of how Love conquers Hate speaks
about the power of organized religion.) However, Powell's misogyny and
righteous celibacy make for extremely creepy moments. To counteract all
of Powell's raging hate, the screenwriters (James Agee and Charles
Laughton) introduce an essential character towards the end of the film
(representing Love), aging matriarch Rachel Cooper (Lillian Gish). She
is a philanthropist and feminist hero who rescues and rears homeless
children. She also is quite capable of using a shotgun to protect her
flock. She is the first adult who sees through Harry Powell and can
stand up to him.
It is curious how Laughton, a renowned thespian in his own right,
apparently wanted his actors and the story to reach the limits of
believability. There are monologues early and late. There are Mitchum's
exaggerated physical gestures when chasing after the children in the
cellar. (Somehow, Powell can never get his adult frame to move faster
than a fleeing child's.) Shelly Winters also portrays the partially mad
widow very woodenly in places. While Billy Chapin as John Harper is
convincing overall, another reviewer points out that he always delays
reacting to every new piece of dialogue in a way that belies his
character's age. Rachel Cooper is a challenging role for Lilian Gish
because of how corny Rachel's lines can be. There is a fairy-tale side
of "Night of the Hunter" that modern audiences, used to fantastic
horrors appearing in the daily nightmare (i.e., news), may find a bit
unnecessary.
This is the only film that Charles Laughton ever directed. He uses
shadows impressively, and his style recalls German Expressionism from
the 1920s. I really like the two scenes with Peter Graves; they are
both very memorable. There are also several images which rank among the
best in movie history. The dead person in the lake is unforgettable.
And, the sight of Harry Powell in silhouette at night time as he croons
a children's hymnal while riding a horse is superb.
Cinephiles who want to experience 1950s era Americana and a really
horrifying story should saddle up their horse and head over to revival
theater showing this.
"Now every cheap hood strikes a bargain with the world, Ends up making
payments on a sofa or a girl. Love 'n hate tattooed across the knuckles
of his hands...
--The Clash, "Death or Glory"
Blade Runner (1982)
Humane Robots
***User-reviewer jaywolfenstien ("A frame to die for", jaywolfenstien from USA, 2 February 2008) has a good commentary.***
"Blade Runner (1982, Ridley Scott) Final Cut", a dystopian sci-fi, is enjoyable. Adhering to the now ubiquitous visual plan of contemporary fantasy/horror cinema, we see a lot of colorized smoke along with moody and/or pulsating lighting. It is described as neo- film noir; and two noir characteristics are washed out streets and freely burning tobacco. While the story is uneven it has an unusually beautiful principal cast. Just as there are multiple versions of "Blade Runner", it seems that everyone has their own opinion about where it belongs when ranking all-time science fiction.
It is set 37 years from the film's release (2019), in a Los Angeles that is majority Asian. This Los Angeles also possesses a formidable skyline with many tall, imposing buildings featuring grim architecture. The Tyrell Corporation, a totalitarian central command structure in complete control over the human population, is manufacturing replicants. Replicants are robots intended to labor under dangerous conditions on other planets. They are engineered with physical powers superior to humans. They also have consciousness. To keep them down, the latest firmware grants them only a four year lifetime. If replicants ever set foot on Earth it is up to a Blade Runner (i.e., a contract assassin affiliated with the LAPD) to "retire" them ASAP, typically by use of a loud, high- caliber handgun. As the story begins there are four replicants who have stolen a space ship and escaped to Earth. Gloomy and weary Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford) is hired to retire them.
A Blade Runner can distinguish a replicant from a human by means of a test (named Voight-Kampff) that is delivered orally. The questions are hypothetical and from what we know, always contain triggers that recall the Milgram experiment. (BTW, there has never been a psychological experiment more important than Milgram. Every school on Earth should teach it. But I digress.) At the urging of Mr. Tyrell (the hands-on CEO of the mighty empire) Deckard gives the test to Tyrell's assistant Rachael (Sean Young). Although she believes she is human, Deckard concludes that she is a machine with implanted memories. Normally, this is cause for Deckard to use his gun. However, he hesitates to retire Rachael. The relationship between the pair is vital to the story. It also drives speculation and debate among "Blade Runner" fans over whether Deckard is actually a replicant himself. The Final Cut version of the film does not conclusively inform us one way or the other.
The replicants all seem intentionally more interesting than Deckard. So do Decker's work colleagues Gaff (Edward James Olmos) and Bryant (M. Emmet Walsh). While Deckard has a dogged persistence that is admirable, as he retires one replicant after another, it is usually the machine which wins the heart of the viewer. While trying not to spoil things, three of the targeted replicants make things easy for Deckard by breaking off a physical attack that would take advantage of their insurmountable strength. One replicant responds to the threat posed by itchy-trigger-fingered Deckard by demonstrating a killer set of fast-moving handstands. This is fun to observe but not effective in battle against an armed hunter. Generally, it seems that the replicants are the ones offering some humanity to the atmosphere while the brutal Tyler Corporation is suppressing it. Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer), the leader of the four mutinous replicants, is occasionally very appealing (even though we also see him kill a human by crushing the victim's skull). Roy is most empathetic when he clamors despairingly for a longer life. As this is in clear contrast to Deckard's misanthropy, the replicant leader garners interest at the expense of the protagonist.
An issue I have with "Blade Runner" is Ridley Scott's dull direction. I am not fond of how modern sci-fi/horror films look. There is no single image that seems to stand out and/or inspire a second glance. It is tempting to say it appears as if were filmed through a Coke bottle. Blade Runner also has innumerable close-ups and cutting back and forth between characters. Scott's imagery just is not distinctive to where "Blade Runner" can be regarded as an elite science fiction film.
Still, there may be nothing more appealing to many cinema-goers than watching a contract killer removing elements of society who are inconvenient to power. If you don't mind occasional eruptions of extreme violence, the beautiful cast and the prospect of experiencing a world (slightly) more authoritarian than ours today makes this a fun diversion. Yet, I don't recommend bringing kids to it. (Not unless you want them to grow up as contract killers. But why not? All that matters is getting paid.)
Hiroshima mon amour (1959)
The Unreliable Narrator
***User reviewer Ed Uyeshima ("Haunting, Sometimes Exasperating Rumination of a Love Affair Infused with Tragic Memories", Ed Uyeshima from San Francisco, CA, USA, 24 January 2007) has a good review with good background information.***
"Hiroshima, Mon Amour (1959, Alain Resnais)", a tale of two cities, is profound. It is hard to believe that this is the first film by Resnais, as it is filled with insight about the human condition. It also reveals the confidence of the young director, as the nonlinear stream of consciousness experienced by a pair of adulterous lovers can only retain interest if the imagery is superb. Despite its plot- less, "arty" feel, "Hiroshima" is very compelling.
Set in the 1950s, Elle (Emmanuele Riva) is a French actress in town to make an anti-war film. She has met Lui (Eiji Okada), a Japanese architect who lost his entire family to the atomic bomb. The two are introduced to us naked and intertwined, and for several minutes we do not see their faces. During the opening sequence, she insists she experienced the aftermath of the Bomb, we see footage reenacting the horrors she is describing and he (correctly) tells her she was not there when it happened. One point that Elle stresses lingers: The Bomb brought the surface temperature of the Sun (10,000 degrees Fahrenheit) to the courtyard now named "Peace Square". Because of details like this, American audiences are not often reminded of what Hiroshima experienced on August 6, 1945.
Liu, himself married, wants Elle to leave her French family behind and stay with him. While the two linger in public during early morning hours, he probes Elle for clues about her troubled past. Flashbacks reveal that Elle has never recovered from the death of her first lover, a German soldier. In the scenes where she meets the German for trysts, her face registers no indication that she comprehends why it is not proper to allow a member of an invading army to experience her feminine pleasures. She eventually suffers the same fate as other French collaborators; i.e., her hair is cut off and she is publicly shamed. Her parents also lock her up in the cellar for good measure. Losing her first love and being rejected by her entire community led the young woman to a nervous breakdown. More than a dozen years has gone by but Elle's mental stability is still diminished. Her madness draws Liu in; the more he learns the more attached he becomes.
Some reviewers have expressed admiration with the juxtaposition of an attractive French actress coping with her own tragic past with the horrors of the atomic tragedy. It sure is a thought-provoking combination. Are Elle and Liu really stand-ins for Nevers, France and Hiroshima, Japan, respectively? Or are they both representing the opposite city? The premise (of the Marguerite Duras novel) encourages the audience to associate the cities with the lovers. However, it seems more fun to observe how often the storytellers make choices that do not serve the perspective of the "never forget Hiroshima" community.
By cutting (or dissolving) away from the Hiroshima reenactments to the lovers going at it in a hotel room, the audience is being encouraged to detach emotionally from the anguished Japanese faces. By having a principal character who is mentally ill and falsely claims she personally witnessed the Bomb's aftermath, we detach even further from the central atrocity. This also is the effect of Liu providing very little information about his own family's destruction. While Resnais appears to hope the audience does not forget the Hiroshima blast, his leading characters invite the audience to let the history go. This is remarkably sophisticated storytelling.
"Hiroshima" has masterful elements. Resnais is excellent with the Black and White imagery. He also draws inspiration from his cinematographers (Michio Takahashi for the bomb scenes and Sacha Vierny for the scenes in Nevers, France). The music by Georges Delerue and Giovanni Fusco is very jazzy and cool overall. The actors playing the lovers are very good, with Emmanuele Riva the standout. This film isn't for everyone, but I think the 90 minutes watching this hypnotic tone poem is wonderfully spent.
Cinephiles know they can't miss this. Film buffs having their own adulterous affairs are encouraged to meet their current lover at the revival theater showing this excellent film. (Just make love somewhere else.)
To Be or Not to Be (1942)
Carole Lombard and Other Points of Interest
***User reviewer theowinthrop ("Swan Song in Warsaw", theowinthrop from United States, 12 November 2005) has an interesting review that covers most of the bases which follow here.***
"To Be Or Not To Be (1942, Ernst Lubitsch)", a comedy about the Nazi invasion of Poland, is worthwhile escapism. It is a product of the time it was made. Completed in 1941, the producers withheld it from release until the US was at war with Germany. When it was being made, the US was still neutral regarding the conflicts raging in Europe. So the Nazi subject matter (e.g., many digs at Adolf Hitler, the references to concentration camps, the Gestapo, etc.), was fairly new to Western audiences. There is a strong propaganda element throughout, and the leading actors are handicapped by the need to kiss up to the Allies while demonizing the Axis powers.
This film may have inspired "Hogan's Heroes" which arrives 25 years later. For both, the Germans are easily defeated. "Hogan's Heroes" also has a Colonel Schultz who is particularly dim-witted.
Even though the Saturday crowd was laughing out loud, many of the gags seem pretty antiquated today. What makes "To Be Or Not to Be" enjoyable is the performance by the three principal leads. Also, the Edwin Justic screenplay is energetic.
In the tradition of 1930s screwball comedies, Robert Stack as Lieutenant Stanislav Sobinski is a very handsome young man in pursuit of love but inexperienced at it. He is more than a capable bombardier and soldier, but love is a more difficult battle altogether.
Jack Benny's Joseph Tura, a pompous actor obsessed with his wife's presumed infidelities, is quite brilliant. Even though Tura repeats himself frequently, Benny has the skill to keep it interesting. Benny might have become a clown to rival Bob Hope if he had made more films. However, for many reasons Carole Lombard (as Maria Tura) is obviously the main attraction here.
Lombard did not live to see this film released. She was killed at age 33 while flying to a war bond rally. Her departure was a terrible loss for world cinema. Not only is Carole Lombard breathtakingly beautiful, she is vastly talented. She excelled in comedic repartee. Her Maria Tura thinks very fast on her feet while captivating throughout. Carole Lombard was an elite performer during the fabled Golden Era of Hollywood.
Cinephiles will enjoy "To Be or Not to Be." Just don't board an aircraft with an unpressurized cabin getting to the revival theater showing this.
Roma città aperta (1945)
Stunning but No Documentary
***Howard Schumann ("Powerful Portrayal of Dignity and Courage", Howard Schumann from Vancouver, B.C., 24 April 2002) has essential background on the filming and good criticism. Also, Claudio Carvalho ("Masterpiece of the Italian Neo-Realism", Claudio Carvalho from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 2 April 2006) adds insight on how it was made. And, B24 ("Nice Piece of Work for its Time", B24 from Arizona, 10 May 2006) has good insight on the German speakers. Finally, federovsky ("Great film, however you classify it", federovsky from bangkok, 30 April 2008) has an excellent review.***
"Rome, Open City (1945, Roberto Rossellini)", a return to Nazi- occupied Italy, is potent. While not the first example of Italian Neorealism, it is usually described as the one that inspired the rest. "Open City" has some flaws, but it is so brutal and stark that you likely will leave the theater stunned.
Rossellini deserves credit for completing it. It was filmed on a shoestring budget as the Nazis began to leave Rome, ending their military occupation. (Rossellini used scraps of film left behind by the retreating German forces.) A mixture of experienced and novice actors are used. It is perhaps not a trivial detail to mention that one of the contributors to the writing, and the uncredited Second Unit director was a young Federico Fellini.
The story revolves around the pursuit of a resistance hero (portrayed by Marcello Pagliero) by the Fascists. The Nazis are very ruthless here. Eventually, there are several torture scenes which don't show much of the painful details, but imply what is being done to the victim. The torture scenes and the inclusion of Italian collaborators with the occupying Germans is cutting edge for 1945.
Rossellini also indulges in one of his favorite things to do: Killing animals for the entertainment of the cinematic audience. Having seen him also do this in "Stromboli" (1950), this is my biggest peeve with him. While the audience does not see either of the two sheep actually being shot, there is no doubt they both were while the camera was operating and the crew watched. Sure I am angry about this, but this is only a small part of "Open City". This film remains essential viewing. I just wish someone had challenged Rossellini by informing him that any idiot can point a camera in this direction to wake the audience up. An elite filmmaker would not need to resort to this.
Overall, the acting is outstanding. Fabrizi as the priest, Magnani as the young widow, Pagliero as resistance hero and Francesco Grandjacquet as the kind Francesco are all probably legends to Italians. However, the woman portraying the lesbian spy doesn't really work for me; she is too one-dimensional in her speech. It has been mentioned by other reviewers that "Open City's" chief flaw when viewing it today is seeing very homosexual, decadent Nazis relaxing in a lavish chamber. The lesbian subplot is noticeably over-the-top. Western culture has evolved much with regards to LGBT preferences, and "Open City" is not strong here.
While it is easy to find flaws when viewing this from a twenty-first century prism, we should recall that Rossellini has always held a commanding perch in Italian cinema. One of his more famous admirers is my choice for cinema's greatest actress, Ingrid Bergman. (During "Stromboli", Bergman broke up her especially rich collaboration with Alfred Hitchcock to become Rossellini's lover and leading actress.) Rosselini deserves respect as a pioneer of neo-realism. His techniques effectively depict the misery of life. Because "Open City" is as unsparing as the real occupation, and resistance fighters are immortalized while traitors are revealed, it likely inspired great pride with the Italian public emerging from its collective nightmare.
While Rossellini is often described as filming "Open City," like a documentary, the opposite is true. For example, the Germans will shoot a much beloved woman running after the truck driven by the Gestapo as they arrest her Italian fiancé. The perspective is from the retreating car; the view of the fiancé. Rossellini is identifying point of view, which is supposedly a no-no in documentaries. Rossellini will also arrange objects in his interiors to move the story along. (How about the wild looking chair that the tipsy Nazi is sitting in when his lone voice speaks against the barbarity of his class?) The director once said, "I try to capture reality, nothing else (Rossellini)". However, he certainly is manipulating reality to achieve his results.
The use of foreshadowing is particularly memorable. For example, an early scene with Don Pietro Pellegrini (Aldo Fabrizi), the heroic priest, shows him being hit in the head by a falling soccer ball as young schoolboys around him laugh. There is Pina's introduction (Anna Magnani) when she emerges from a bread riot almost too dizzy to stand. The two sheep will predict two subsequent fatalities, etc. With some quibbles, the narrative is written well.
Despite its weaknesses, "Open City," is a must-see for cinephiles. The courage to resist Fascism in defiance of its sheer brutality inspires democracy activists today. Let's not forget that the current US government sponsors torture. Also, the US President has renewed a law which he claims grants him the right to execute or indefinitely detain US citizens. "Rome, Open City," is very relevant in this time.
Le jour se lève (1939)
It's A Dog's World
***Interesting commentary from Varlaam ("A tragedy of everyday proportions", Varlaam from Toronto, Canada, 3 February 1999), who uses actor math to describe Jean Gabin. Also, writers_reign from London ("Twilight At Dawn", writers_reign from London, England, 8 December 2003) adds context for the principal participants. Finally, nowlang ("A French Masterpiece about the Tragedy of a Simple Man's Life", nowlang ([email protected]) from Small Town, New England, USA, 12 September 2006) adds interesting insight.***
"Le jour se lève (Daybreak; 1939, Marcel Carné, France) is another superlative film from Carné. A common laborer is known to have killed a man, and is holed-up awaiting his fate. With the arrival of the Second World War looming, the participants involved in this project still manage to leave behind a story filled with understanding about the human condition.
The film is very brave, as it is not hard to argue that "Daybreak" is a veiled protest against the increasingly repressive government. (The Vichy regime, which collaborated with the Nazis, took over a year after this film's release.) In the film's opening, a title card informs us that a murder has been committed and we will see what caused the murderer to act. The message has little purpose but to create the idea of a government proclamation announcing that someone is an enemy of the state.
Who threatens the state the most? The French police exacerbate tensions whenever possible. They have François (Jean Gabin) trapped in his third-story apartment. Without a word of dialog, they begin shooting at François. Later, they deny a potentially crisis- ending conversation between François and several of his coworkers. When the laborers in the street begin to show signs of support for François, the police crush the public expression with violence against the helpless crowd.
By starting with the title card that clarifies the government's official position and then presenting a story that encourages sympathy for the public enemy, "Daybreak" makes the statement that the present French government is getting out of control.
Some viewers have an issue with the central cheat in the story, namely that François completely fails to recognize he has a legitimate case to make to an impartial jury. This is explained in part by the Fascistic police, which offer no sign they intend for him to receive a fair trial. There also seems to be relevance in the deceased having been an animal trainer. His ex-girlfriend and show partner Clara (Arletty) will describe some of Valentine's cruelty to his dogs by mentioning a specific example. So, perhaps François does not take steps to improve his situation because he is identified with the unfortunate puppies who can never escape Valentine's sadism. When weary François hysterically communicates with the crowd below, he might be offering some of the despair of show animals being cruelly trained. (An example of how Valentine torments François is by repeatedly calling him "simple." BTW, "Daybreak" sure has a lot more awareness about the plight of animals than does the "Wizard of Oz," also made in 1939.)
It is a trademark of the collaboration between Carné (direction) and Jacques Prévert's (dialog) that a sense of balance is felt with the entire cast. Even the characters with brief moments on screen are perfectly realized.
Jean Gabin is excellent in the lead role. He's one of my all-time favorite actors. If you mixed Spencer Tracy's looks with Humphrey Bogart's grit, sprinkling in Robert Mitchum's indifference, while supplying the result with a vast quantity of cigarettes, you might produce an actor similar. Gabin excels at portraying primitives, and is as convincing as a criminal as he is endearing. Gabin is a perfect choice for this despairing role of a laborer who grew up in an orphanage and now endures soul-crushing work to get by.
"Daybreak" is useful in understanding how Arletty was a successful leading lady despite being in her 40s. As an actress, she brings mystery and cleverness to her roles. While Arletty/Clara is an attractive woman, it is obvious that the younger, sensual Françoise, is intended to be the head-turner. Still, Arletty's Clara is a lot more streetwise than Françoise. Clara does not fall to pieces when situations get tough. Arletty appears to have been successful as a romantic lead during this turbulent era because she seems to offer the French male a partner that can hold up under duress.
The sexuality is very advanced for 1939. There are four main characters and each has partnered with two others of the group. The scene where François joins Françoise on her bed is risqué. Françoise is also "ruined" when it is revealed her relationship with Valentine is not platonic. One can imagine the government censors having many internal conversations about just the sexual behavior on display. (I was a little annoyed in the naming similarity between François and Françoise. However, maybe this is to emphasize the similar states of mind the pair have at the finish.)
If you are a cinema buff you won't want to miss this.
Il conformista (1970)
Humanity and Subversion
***It has spoilers, but EThompsonUMD ("An unforgettable masterpiece. Finally available on DVD!!!!!!", EThompsonUMD from Massachusetts, 25 February 2005) has a nice review. I also like the comments by italtrav ("Brilliant film making", italtrav from NYC, 23 June 2004). Another fine review is from junkielee ("Masterpiece!!", junkielee from Cairo, Egypt, 7 November 2013).***
The Conformist (1970, Bernardo Bertolucci), a return to Benito Mussolini's Italy, is profound, one of the great cinematic achievements of the last century. Filled with ideas, oozing with style, relevant to societies (like the US today) on the verge of total collapse and richly satisfying, Bernardo Bertolucci's eye-opener invites passionate discussion on its meaning.
Set during the rise and fall of Mussolini, "The Conformist" follows a young Italian man Marcello Clerici (Jean-Louis Trintignant, who is actually French), who aspires to become a made-man with the Fascists. To get in, Marcello must enable the assassination of his former philosophy professor, now a prominent democracy-activist. The narrative is non-linear, and we soon realize that Marcello is repressed. He has strong homosexual tendencies. He is particularly haunted by a major incident in his childhood; i.e., thirteen-year-old Marcello has his first sexual encounter with a man and it leads to a violent conclusion. As an adult Marcello is determined to be regarded as normal, so he marries the extremely pretty and sensual Giulia ( Stefania Sandrelli), even though he hates her lack of intellectual depth. When the couple are honeymooning, he makes arrangements to meet up with Professor Quadri (Enzo Tarascio). He is instantly floored by Quadri's beautiful, bisexual wife, Anna (Dominique Sanda). Although Marcello quickly makes a pass with her, it seems he is more attracted by her liberation. As Marcello, Giulia, the Professor and Anna become more intimately acquainted with each other the more the very awake Anna reveals herself as the most compelling character of all. Will Marcello go through with it?
Visually it looks amazing. The combination of Bertolucci and famed cinematographer Vittorio Storaro is dazzling. Bertolucci really chooses color well. Storaro is the master of under-exposure. The combination of Bertolucci's imagery and Storaro's cinematography creates a sense that you are watching living history unfold.
Another reviewer points out that Bertolucci is deviating from the Alberto Moravia novel which has an omniscient perspective. Instead, Bertolucci focuses on the troubled, unreliable Marcello for point of view. There are many examples where Bertolucci suggests a peculiar mindset. For example, Marcello has a thug beat up his drug-addicted Mother's chauffeur and lover. Curiously, the man taking the beating does not resist. (In other words, victims are not really being victimized.) When Marcello meets his father in a sanitarium, it appears like the father's agitation is being directed in opposition to Marcello's obvious connection with the Fascists. (That is, resisting the Fascists is a crazy thing to do.) When Marcello is announcing his intention to marry Giulia to be perceived as normal, he is in a nightclub with singers performing in the background. (So the distracted audience fails to notice Marcel is repressed or strange in any way.) However, perhaps the most visually identifying moment for Marcello follows a very erotic dance between Anna and Giulia in a nightclub. Their dancing arouses all the other patrons. Eventually all the patrons are dancing in one large circle clockwise around Marcello. At the center of the storm, Marcello is turning counter-clockwise, refusing to be pulled in with the senseless pleasure experienced by those around him. Shortly after the circle dance Marcello commits his perfidy. So, he wasn't a conformist after all. His move towards Fascism wasn't out of cowardice; he had the courage to resist the rest. He never deceived anyone; the others were not paying attention.
An interesting theme is Plato's Allegory of the Cave. This was the subject of Marcel's graduate thesis. The scene with Marcello discussing it in Professor Quadri's office, with the two bathed in shadow, directly comments on it. Plato's allegory is also relevant to the late betrayal of the blind Fascist radio announcer. Just as Plato's narrator suddenly perceives reality after a lifetime of staring at shadows, so too does the blind propagandist learn the awful truth about a perceived comrade he has never seen.
"The Conformist" works on so many levels that it should be seen whenever possible. Here's a closing thought for those who think that joining a Secret Police is so damn cool: There exists someone like Anna in every life that makes attachment with strangers worthwhile.
Vertigo (1958)
Olive oil on rubber plant leaves
"Vertigo" (1958, Alfred Hitchcock), deserves its reputation as the greatest American film ever made. Despite its ridiculously far-fetched story, it mesmerizes even after dozens of screenings. As great as Hitchcock's form is here, Bernard Hermann's beautiful, symphonic score is also essential to the experience. It would be nice if some of the growing numbers of young head-down-and-texters would venture over to the revival theater showing this cinematic landmark in order to understand how much farther great culture can lift a soul than a QWERTY keyboard can.
"Vertigo" opens with an enigma: How does San Francisco Detective John "Scotty" Ferguson (Jimmy Stewart) survive hanging from a rain gutter from a great height? No hint is provided. The murder plot is similarly perplexing. For example, how could a murderer risk easy exposure if the intended witness manages to overcome acrophobia and climb the stairs of a steep tower? We toss away plausibility when experiencing Hitchcock's universe, but the payoff here is huge.
The famous reveal in 'Vertigo' is the subject of much scholarly discussion. (The film's twist is revealed about 25 minutes before it might have used as a surprise.) According to legend, every leading figure involved in the production disagreed with Hitchcock on the reveal, including Mrs. Hitchcock. Hitchcock had to fend them off. In his subsequent interview with François Truffaut, he explains his preference for suspense, not surprise.
There are several very widely-read biographies of Alfred Hitchcock with co-workers all saying he was impossible to like on a personal level. In "Vertigo", the two leads have a strong argument. Despite how effortlessly the very gifted Jimmy Stewart plays Scotty, Hitchcock is said to have blamed Stewart's premature aging for "Vertigo's" box office failure. Hitchcock never worked with Stewart again, breaking up a legendary collaboration (of four superlative films). In addition, Hitchcock was unhappy with Kim Novak, and is said to have publicly criticized her after 'Vertigo' was released. (Novak maintained a dignified silence.) I don't know what Hitchcock said about Novak, but it seems that Hitchcock has some thin department-store models showing off female clothing to Scotty and Madeleine. Also, when one of the sales women tells Scotty that Judy can wear a particular woman's suit after "alterations," perhaps the comment and the slender models are both knocks on Novak's weight.
Still, Hitchcock's characters show tremendous depth. Scotty's former love interest Midge (Barbara Bel Geddes) is uniquely endearing. The scene where Midge tearfully destroys her witty painting (a spoof on Scotty's obsession) is really heart-wrenching. So is Midge's final appearance, the somber walk down the hallway in the sanitarium. Hitchcock really connects with lonely hearts through Midge. It is ironic that an artist as universally disliked by the people who worked with him could produce such profound moments with common people as we see him portray Scotty's forgotten ex-girlfriend. People tend to forget this when teeing off on Alfred Hitchcock, the man.
If you have watched 'Vertigo' a few time notice how Hitchcock manipulates point of view. For example, when we first see Scotty after the opening predicament, he is in Midge's apartment. Seated but physically diminished, Scotty is balancing a cane when he says, "ouch." The background is particularly busy. There is visual chaos all around Stewart's outline. It looks as if the background objects just fell from a height, not Scotty. Scotty is being under-appreciated.
It is also interesting when another point of view (besides Scotty's) is being represented. For example, we see the floating petals from Madeleine's flower just before she jumps into San Francisco Bay. Another example is when Madeleine revisits the murder with her flashback. It lasts a few seconds but her side of the story is clearly identified. (That is, it appears filmed in a manner that conveys her as a reluctant pawn in a larger conspiracy.) Hitchcock is never just pointing a camera at a set where some action is taking place. He plans every visual detail before filming begins.
Cinephiles already know what a great film 'Vertigo' is. It is a perennial pleasure that never gets stale. However, please don't take any ill-advised leaps across rooftops getting to the revival theater showing it.
Thieves' Highway (1949)
Where film noir and sun-kissed apples meet
***Great summary by imogensara_smith ("A movie like this keeps the doctor away", imogensara_smith from New York City, 5 June 2006). Meanwhile, McGonigle ("Bravo", McGonigle from bean world, Massachusetts, 4 December 2006) has interesting thoughts about Nick's mental state at the film's end.***
"Thieves Highway" (1949, Jules Dassin), Where film noir and Golden Delicious apples meet, is extremely gritty and suspenseful. Appearing a year before Dassin is blacklisted by the House un-American Activities Committee (HUAC), it depicts capitalism as an all-but-universal corrupter. With the lone exception of the protagonist, every character is seen destroying another for profit. The titanic struggle for working people to get ahead in a rigged game resonates today.
War-veteran Nick Garcos (Richard Conte) comes home bearing presents for his family and somewhat tall girlfriend Polly (former model Barbara Lawrence, 5'8"). He learns that his formerly wildcatting father has been recently crippled by the perfidy of a Frisco-based produce market dealer, Mike Figlia (Lee J. Cobb). Headstrong and possessing a bad temper (when wronged), Nick partners up with occasionally unscrupulous, hard-boiled Ed (Millard Mitchell) to each drive a truck loaded with Golden Delicious apples from a particularly sun-kissed orchard to the Frisco market. Nick wants to do business with Figlia in order to make money and avenge his father at the same time. Unfortunately, Nick does not fully understand the depth to which Figlia employs murderous thugs to undermine business deals.
There is a lot to enjoy. The performers are all excellent. Conte brings a physicality to Nick that is evident with his smoldering eyes, cat-like movement and athletic build. Lee J. Cobb, in a role that reminds many of his later appearance in "On the Waterfront (1954)", is perfect as the cigar-chomping, duplicitous produce dealer. There is always money to be made crossing unsuspecting saps and Lee J. Cobb seems to have known this from birth. Valentina Cortese is remarkably effective as the occasional Italian prostitute Rica, who is as street-wise as she is sensual. After being hired by Figlia to distract Nick from his load of apples, she double-crosses Figlia and becomes Nick's best ally. She helps Nick negotiate the tricky San Francisco underworld, a brutal environment that Nick's rarefied fiancé, Polly, could never acclimate to. The scenes between Nick and Rica in Rica's apartment are often beautifully realized. The moment where the pair play tic-tac-toe with their fingers on Nick's chest is really sexy.
The screenplay (by A. I. Bezzerides who adapted his own novel) really breathes; i.e., events change at a believable pace, as seen by the length of screen time before Figlia begins appropriating Nick's apples. I love how vital the market scenes are, as Dassin's camera is normally stationary while the background is filled with people and objects in motion. Some reviewers believe that Dassin is showing his antipathy towards capitalism by making the audio and visuals from the early market scenes "noisy", as if to portray it as an assault on the senses. However, there is one particular image that everyone remembers from "Thieves." The much-discussed sight of apples tumbling down a steep hill after the truck that was carrying them has crashed is uniquely profound. Again, many will find an anti-capitalist message here. Clearly Dassin is commenting on the sheer destruction of countless lives in the pursuit of monetary gain.
Speaking of double-crosses, executive producer Darryl Zanuck is known to have included (and personally directed) the final shot, without Dassin's knowledge. Zanuck also altered the roadhouse showdown between Nick and Figlia by including surprisingly uncorrupted police officers, one of whom is laughably from a different universe than every other character.) Also, Star Trek fans will want to notice Joseph Pevney as Pete. (Pevney later became one of Star Trek's principal directors.) "Thieves Highway" is a top-shelf noir, and an absolute must-see for Cinephiles. However, if you are driving an over-loaded big-rig to the revival theater showing this, it is recommended that you have slept within the last 36 hours and that your universal joint is not being held up by wire and spit.
The Man in the White Suit (1951)
Well-made Comedic Nightmare
****User reviewer Robert J. Maxwell ("A lesson in economics and understatement", Robert J. Maxwell from Deming, New Mexico, USA, 26 September 2005) has interesting observations about the editing. Meanwhile, l_rawjalaurence ("Frenetic Satire at the Time of the Festival of Britain", l_rawjalaurence from London, 26 April 2014) has a great review. Also, blanche-2 ("Timely message from the wonderful Ealing Studios", blanche-2 from United States, 19 March 2013), while properly concerned not to come off as a "conspiracy theorist", draws good parallels between this film and other historical events.****
"The Man in the White Suit" (1951, Alexander Mackendrick), an economic satire, is comedic despite a dystopian plot. The story is a nightmare, as a solitary visionary is prevented from enlightening a community by the community itself. However, the tone is light. There are many superb British character actors backing up the principals. The pace is frenetic and it is interesting throughout.
Alec Guinness is the determined young chemist (and visionary) Sidney Stratton. Sidney prefers to work for textile companies, even if it means accepting low-wage work. During Sidney's off hours he sneaks into the company's chemistry laboratory to tinker with his new invention on the sly. So much has changed since the mid-twentieth century. For one thing, there used to be many people employed at a mill, because automation and outsourcing had not yet arrived. Also, labor unions once were formidable, and its leaders actually worked for the rank and file. This film's narrative could not be set in the modern era because today's corporate decision-making is always top down and formulated behind closed doors.
Armed with cutting edge science (e.g., he is an expert on "long molecules"), Sidney pursues his dream of inventing a new cloth that is perpetually wear and stain resistant. Unfortunately, the mid-level and senior-level management for the (current) company that employs him take issue with his research being conducted at company expense. Sidney endures a great deal of oppression before he finally gets the opportunity to pitch his radical scientific ideas to Alan Birnley (Cecil Parker), the CEO of the Birnley mill. Stanley owes his good fortune to Alan's daughter Daphne, (Joan Greenwood). After she almost runs him over with her car the two have a wonderful conversation with Sidney laying in the dusty English street discussing science to her as she looks down at him. Once Stanley has permission to complete the research (which is fraught with explosions comparable to hand grenades), he produces the fabric and then manufactures a stylish white suit that demonstrates the new material.
With Sidney on the cusp of fame, Fate intervenes with a pair of blows. The first is the wealthy business elites (i.e., capital) who want his invention suppressed, fearing it threatens their perpetuity. The second is Sidney's dismal realization that even his presumed friends in the company union (i.e., labor) prefer his invention shelved out of concern it threatens their jobs. With nearly the entire community against him, Sidney manages initially to avert physical harm thanks to the inconsistent Daphne and a young mill girl (Charlotte Mitchell). The young girl has limited screen time but can be regarded as Sidney's Guardian Angel. The gears of oppression continue to grind Sidney down until the breathtaking conclusion when the inventor is surrounded by the enraged community on a dark street at night.
Visually, it always looks great. The Oscar-nominated screenplay (by Roger MacDougall, John Dighton and MacDougall's cousin, Alexander Mackendrick) is fast-paced and vigorous. The always excellent Cecil Parker is convincing as a mill boss who is torn between progress and the demands of the (corpse-like) Sir John Kierlaw (Ernest Thesiger), who is a leader of what we might call the Illuminati. Alec Guinness turns in another excellent performance as the young inventor. Once again, Guinness inhabits his role, infusing uniquely British mannerisms, stamping his ownership of the character. He sure makes it look easy.
Joan Greenwood's Daphne is one of the great pleasures of the film. To modern audience, she may come as a casting surprise. While attractive, she is not glamorous. A lot of film honchos would have been tempted to cast a female lead who appears to be more obviously a physical match for Guinness. However, at Ealing Studios they knew the allure of her (now-legendary) voice and diction. Her purring voice is deep but not real husky. It is a perfect antidote to Guinness's obvious charm when the two are getting intimate.
"The Man in the White Suit" is a pleasure that draws many parallels to the modern era. Cinephiles should see it in a revival theater, making sure to avoid all chemistry laboratories getting to one.
Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949)
Comic Serial Killing
***While both reviews have spoilers, I recommend Felix-28 ("One of the Very Best", Felix-28 from Melbourne, Australia, 5 February 2006). Also, ackstasis ("It is so difficult to make a neat job of killing people with whom one is not on friendly terms", ackstasis from Australia, 27 March 2008).***
"Kind Hearts and Coronets" (1949, Robert Hamer) is a masterpiece of black comedy. Set during the nineteenth century (i.e., the 1860s), it is one of the best acted, written and filmed comedies about murder and class relations ever made. This quintessentially British film is an exquisite pleasure, and make sure you watch it on the big screen.
A poor but ambitious cousin of a family of royals takes on the project of removing all the obstacles preventing him from becoming the Duke. He is sentenced to hang only after being convicted of a murder he did not commit. While not (for me) laugh-out-loud funny, there is a great deal of dry wit on hand. Each cast member is superb. Joan Greenwood embellishes the vamp Sibella with her much-envied voice, which has been often compared to a cat's purring. Valerie Hobson (Edith), adds beauty, grace and poise. (I've become a real fan of hers, having also seen her as the Countess in "The Card", three weeks ago.) Miles Malleson, as the agreeable and respectful hangman, has his own cult following.
However, the two male leads are amazing. Alec Guinness famously plays the entire royal D'Ascoyne family comprised of eight (!) members. While each is doomed, Guinness portrays them all differently. Even though some of the D'Ascoynes have few lines and limited screen time, this is still an astonishing feat. Guinness (then 35 and largely unknown to the public) finds so many details with each character representing a wide spectrum of ages (i.e., 35-80) and both genders (Lady Agatha is the sole female) that thespians everywhere should be inspired. It has been said of Guinness that every role he has ever played is different than any other, and here he puts on an acting master class.
In most movies, this would be enough. However, Dennis Price as Louis, the smooth-talking, serial killer with aristocratic ambition is another character not soon forgotten. In his career performance, Price inhabits the role of Louis and is just as interesting as Guinness throughout. Price also portrays Louis's opera-singing father. I assume that Price is actually the tenor singing early. This fragment sounds great to my ears.
The title is inspired by a poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. The screenplay is (by Robert Hamer and John Dighton) and is loosely-based on Roy Horniman's novel. The dialogue is very precise. The story has some unusual plot turns. I like how each murder is off-screen and accomplished in a different way. Visually, Hamer's direction is excellent. He uses the entire frame; and it is always interesting to see the background details. It is impossible to appreciate the skill with which "Coronets" is made without seeing it in a movie theater.
"Kind Hearts and Coronets" is a crowd-pleasing screen gem with legendary qualities. Once the concept of "comic serial killing" can be explained, it is kid-friendly, too.
Theatre of Blood (1973)
a missed opportunity
"Theater of Blood" (1973, Douglas Hickox), a comedic horror film about an insane theater actor who begins killing off a circle of theater critics by reenacting moments in Shakespeare, fails to reach its potential, despite a great concept and a talented, exciting cast. Two problems it has are: 1) showing almost all of gory violence; 2) Mediocre direction. It is still a cult film that is worth watching, but prepare for some disappointment.
Vincent Price is splendid as the long-suffering Shakespearean actor Edward Lionheart. After years of being abused by a smug group of reviewers, he recruits a small group of downtrodden people to participate in his murderous revenge. The monologues where Price is describing the crimes of the next critic to be killed off are one of the pleasures here. The flashback where Price interrupts the critics having a meal in a swanky restaurant to challenge their recognition of a rival actor with a prestigious year end (1970) theatrical award, is a great idea and is mostly amusing.
Diana Rigg, playing the thespian's supportive daughter, is one the best reasons to stick this out. She looks fantastic; absolutely beautiful. While she is a direct accomplice in her father's killing spree, she is so photogenic and adept with her delivery that she counters the distaste of the gore. There is no doubt that Ms. Rigg would have been a very thrilling actress to watch on stage, as she is always entertaining just to listen to.
Another cast member who is solid is Ian Hendry (Peregrine Devlin). Devlin is the theater critic that Lionheart hesitates to kill. The two have a prolonged sword fight in a gym with comedic touches. Devlin and Lionheart seem connected, particularly when Devlin asks for Lionheart to put him out of his misery. It seems reasonable to believe that Devlin is Lionheart's doppleganger.
Too bad Rainer Werner Fassbinder did not direct this. Fassbinder would have hit it out the park. Hickox has great opportunities to make an impression but his imagery always fails to interest. Also, the quotient of violence is difficult to sit through.