tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67701536344176459812024-03-27T22:47:04.728+00:00Cinematic SojournsA record of the films I've watched on TV, DVD and at the cinema - plus occasional observations on other cultural paraphernalia.Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-68799571369352910902008-01-16T12:13:00.000+00:002008-12-14T08:17:08.301+00:00Went The Day Well? (1942) - Alberto Cavalcanti<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs5W2wE278ogKLmuZJwJJ5ueDxYn-bKwg1Yq4JBUMaPrA8rIVylWSnhvtY3O5Qx_PszYQyohnVcfDncPkL883wv_aUaX9idW-ZYAMrAj76tBGWiOcS8nZ3EnML0SoWLfyxyb9O-Qg5DNA/s1600-h/vlcsnap-20573.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs5W2wE278ogKLmuZJwJJ5ueDxYn-bKwg1Yq4JBUMaPrA8rIVylWSnhvtY3O5Qx_PszYQyohnVcfDncPkL883wv_aUaX9idW-ZYAMrAj76tBGWiOcS8nZ3EnML0SoWLfyxyb9O-Qg5DNA/s320/vlcsnap-20573.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156047484652711714" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Went The Day Well?</span> rises wonderfully from it's mid-War propaganda roots to quickly become an engaging, entertaining wartime thriller warranting several viewings. The 1942 <span style="font-style:italic;">Ealing Studios</span> production starts as innocently as any rural drama with a truckload of troops entering a village under the auspices of some kind of communications mission. The villagers suspect nothing, and nor do we - the accents come with the stiffest of lips; the only odd behaviour is the scolding of a young boy curious to see what's on the back of the truck under the tarpaulin. As with most films of this type however, where a con is afoot, the audience are told early on that these are in fact Germans in disguise (in a similar vein to <span style="font-style:italic;">Battle Of The Bulge</span>). Curiously, it is the women in the village who have suspicions first, but even they don't cotton on to the traitor in their midst. Ultimately, the Germans' mission is inevitably futile when the villagers seize their chance to take down the troop themselves turning the tables irrevocably to their favour.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilSbiu_eVxD3AOawVTkdQW32dLtgFKjt2mqM-HOhq9uICUi5R59O_g6znza2nOkGiM8bF6D06_8HrGUc9UYTQYKRd-O5rz3tG3CBNLNE0tbBEXUFj-z8GLE2ZOiBr4Gjg3EHBqupMcDAg/s1600-h/vlcsnap-21823.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilSbiu_eVxD3AOawVTkdQW32dLtgFKjt2mqM-HOhq9uICUi5R59O_g6znza2nOkGiM8bF6D06_8HrGUc9UYTQYKRd-O5rz3tG3CBNLNE0tbBEXUFj-z8GLE2ZOiBr4Gjg3EHBqupMcDAg/s320/vlcsnap-21823.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156047974278983474" /></a><br /><br />For a film with a purpose it not only does what it sets out to do: affirmation of British stoic strength in the face of adversity, but does so without shoving any agenda distastefully down the audience's throat. With the men abroad it's unsurprising that the women take on a lot of the film's strongest roles (<span style="font-weight:bold;">Thora Hird</span> taking the strongest, and most frightening) yet these roles don't come with the hardened sense of extreme feminsim they might have in later films dealing with this period. The workmanlike direction from <span style="font-weight:bold;">Alberto Cavalcanti</span> ticks the standard clichés and runs through predictable plot arcs without ever seeming tired, or mundane. The photography may be uninspired, but then it doesn't need to be particularly special when the story holds up on its own merits. We know what's going to happen, but I never once felt watching the flick was pointless and with some unintentional comedy thrown into the mix this mixed bag has a little something for everyone. Ok, so the acting may be as wooden as the crosses that adorn the church interior but you get what you expect with this classic gem of a film: excitement, a thrill or 2, some action and some comedy all dished up within 90 minutes. I for one couldn't ask for much more.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">8/10</span><br /><br />Links:<br /><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Went_the_Day_Well%3F"> Went The Day Well on Wikipedia</a><br /><a href="http://www.sensesofcinema.com/contents/cteq/06/41/went-day-well.html">Senses Of Cinema article</a>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-60981553732996472692008-01-12T11:27:00.000+00:002008-12-14T08:17:09.868+00:00Rope (1948) - Alfred Hitchcock<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEuhK4v6H8BQmvbv7Q-NxwfIvjtA9s9GFVAPlZcRCKiI6eiVf0Hf-oVPIBv4Hqc-ytRLHqnfxzu-73dVr-VWOqWxBXFxFOzlmNp7BxSlNYYm0MHypYnKj-hlxqBXUawDzvRpXlBUVsipc/s1600-h/vlcsnap-31926.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEuhK4v6H8BQmvbv7Q-NxwfIvjtA9s9GFVAPlZcRCKiI6eiVf0Hf-oVPIBv4Hqc-ytRLHqnfxzu-73dVr-VWOqWxBXFxFOzlmNp7BxSlNYYm0MHypYnKj-hlxqBXUawDzvRpXlBUVsipc/s320/vlcsnap-31926.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154552990652526274" /></a><br /><br />Is this the rope by which Hitchcock hangs himself? For me, yes, well - at least in part. The obsession with style and technique here really overrides the plots focus and any sense of realism. The rope may be awaiting the film's protagonists, it may be the ingredient that gave them away, but in trying for so long to tie the long tracking shots together Hitch' comes desperately unstuck for this particular viewer.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvRk6J1olfrC3PGWKEwPa5oD2Y6nq5r8Y1QYzw52UWj0hhEpmf3JVRQ5DkhTtwcZJ_W9G9EHmnd_P2mdyWZfALaRorPqVTHo0kjMDYvbMJo73aelYJ33xCGN8JNPPUumXhJpHdn1UzDY/s1600-h/vlcsnap-33724.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqvRk6J1olfrC3PGWKEwPa5oD2Y6nq5r8Y1QYzw52UWj0hhEpmf3JVRQ5DkhTtwcZJ_W9G9EHmnd_P2mdyWZfALaRorPqVTHo0kjMDYvbMJo73aelYJ33xCGN8JNPPUumXhJpHdn1UzDY/s320/vlcsnap-33724.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154553398674419410" /></a><br /><br />The set-up is simple: 2 impossibly arrogant bourgois students murder a classmate purely to see if they can get away with "the perfect murder". Murder, they proffer, is not just a crime but an art form reserved for the higher classes of individual to be perpetrated on the weak lower echelons of society. After the murder the 2 students hold a party attended by the deceased's girlfriend, his father and aunt, another friend and an old teacher. To add excitement, or for whatever reason, they use the trunk into which they've dumped the body, for the party's centrepiece. The film follows the conversations at the party and the unravelling of their big plan by the teacher.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDWXpG53VqtDbYZvcjMnJh2AGT-InnkDTZbQ9qD_1Hj9y29RuBDHnW-OgWKGMAhkZE-6j5voQzKkh1O-lVFoQq6FXFBjchWk56-Q91ks-r8c75yN7_2mO2FfA46Fn9yl10z-3dvjgLp38/s1600-h/vlcsnap-34901.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDWXpG53VqtDbYZvcjMnJh2AGT-InnkDTZbQ9qD_1Hj9y29RuBDHnW-OgWKGMAhkZE-6j5voQzKkh1O-lVFoQq6FXFBjchWk56-Q91ks-r8c75yN7_2mO2FfA46Fn9yl10z-3dvjgLp38/s320/vlcsnap-34901.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154553896890625762" /></a><br /><br />There seems to be so, so much wrong with this film. For starters there's the way it's shot. After the first cut to the interior Hitchcock does so much to mask the cuts [at the end of reels] by using close-ups of characters' backs to mask the edit. At the time, i can see that this would have worked for the majority of the audience who wont be looking for edits, but years later with a reputation firmly established this bold experiment fails in my estimations. Once we, the audience, are aware of what Hitchcock is doing, every edit becomes more than just obvious - they become the focus of the film. The close-ups on backs are unsightly, drawing unwarranted attention to themselves they reveal the director's trickery drawing further focus away from the story itself. Perhaps however, this can be excused in context, when technology of the time is taken into account as well as the audience etc. What's stranger then, is when in the final section of the film the cutting resorts to much more standard practise. As unsightly as the early edits may be, they do at least establish their own form of rhythm with which one can accept and become attuned to, but this is all undone by the end of the film. For a film "with no cuts" 3 or 4 actual cuts seems quite steep, for all the good these later cuts do he [the director] may as well have put in a jump cut at the end to a courtroom or to the gallows. I can't deny the technical achievements in pulling those huge camera through the set to achieve those eternal tracking and panning shots, but i really don't feel here that the risk was worth it. In technical innovation Hitchcock undermines any semblance of realism the film started off with, to the point that it's less of a film per se, but an unpolished, raw technical experiment that still needs an awful lot of work before it's fit to be shown to audiences.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7caT0B2CWC7vQz_PdM6BXtkWP1ZhYeWetwNZgAuFqxOBvHxhL6a5ITI0Ymcxa5gafuaVKbqjeAYPWLYcEqYTzGhsWjtS_3Qle0XqqXOw9jGSfQmIAg_oiWA6kuNH1ooCXvqzOArAxEuM/s1600-h/vlcsnap-36353.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7caT0B2CWC7vQz_PdM6BXtkWP1ZhYeWetwNZgAuFqxOBvHxhL6a5ITI0Ymcxa5gafuaVKbqjeAYPWLYcEqYTzGhsWjtS_3Qle0XqqXOw9jGSfQmIAg_oiWA6kuNH1ooCXvqzOArAxEuM/s320/vlcsnap-36353.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154554549725654770" /></a><br /><br />Assuming however, you can buy the style and technique enough to focus on the story, how good is the plot? Again, it's found wanting. Wanting of a twist, something interesting to spice it up, something to raise this overwrought melodrama from the ever-predictable doldrums in which it irrevocably resides. For two students who seem so apparently well-educated one has to question almost every decision they make in the film. By placing the body, literally, in the middle of the party they are displaying a huge degree of arrogance and egotism. We know it's going to be their downfall, so maybe that's the point - that ego leads to failure, that the obnoxious upper classes are never as superior as they think they are intellectually or otherwise. But most people already are well aware that arrogance is a forbearer of doom; cocksure and distasteful we resent these protagonists as soon as we meet them and hope they get what's coming to them... which, essentially is what happens in the film. The guests turn up, the teacher rumbles their scheme and makes sure the police come to arrest them. To me it seems bafflingly simple, and almost pointless. Person does bad, gets found out and receives comeuppance: where's the fun, interest, intrigue; excitement in this? Fans seem to point to tension, but i can't say i felt any, at any point in the film. The whole thing seems to be one slippery slope from the moment Stewart enters the room, from the moment he steps in he seems suspicious and gets ever more so 'til the climax. There's no discernible revelation here, just mounting evidence that increasingly confirms one characters initial fear/suspicion. Again however, this in itself is not always a terrible thing - after all films that tell a simple story well in a tight runtime can be just as much the masterpiece as those sprawling epics which interweave many complex narrative threads and characters. But, all i can say here is that the execution is terrible (pun intended). There's a kind of build-up to a debate over the merit of murder's artistry in which the protagonists all but give themselves away (they really couldn't make it more obvious, throughout the film, that they are very guilty murderers), yet this central debate, the apparent focus of the film is over extremely quickly with only superficial argument. There's a sort of revelation near the end when the teacher rescinds his standpoint on murder as art, an act (rescission that is) that could have come as a surprise if we knew more of his character or if he didn't seem so impossibly, eloquently, liberal - that he would see the error in his previous views comes as no shock whatsoever; indeed the only shock is that it takes him so long to do so. All in all, the story seems barely real or credible, with lines feeling evermore contrived and dialogue evermore focused on driving home plot points being delivered by 2 dimensional characters none of which we can reasonably side with.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpsJfnUXeiGfuv42BUwWzlvYDpSTn8C6fTRAKJ9jt34fUzJ-IvyPngPzp9qWbIy2Kh3yQ3zNncueQwL2Io5FEj546mSyVxqocOIYnVuLysN_mLyoz_LVHHCpwBT_hSNcdfvJq9_USYiDI/s1600-h/vlcsnap-37427.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpsJfnUXeiGfuv42BUwWzlvYDpSTn8C6fTRAKJ9jt34fUzJ-IvyPngPzp9qWbIy2Kh3yQ3zNncueQwL2Io5FEj546mSyVxqocOIYnVuLysN_mLyoz_LVHHCpwBT_hSNcdfvJq9_USYiDI/s320/vlcsnap-37427.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154555056531795714" /></a><br /><br />All that remains then is the performances, which could make the film worthwhile. They don't. Wooden throughout, stagey delivery and extraordinary unevenness leave the performances - even from the leads - approaching a shamble. The last remnants of reality are shattered every time anyone speaks a line. The actors should be on a stage when they talk like this, not a film set, and when i say talk i mean read. I'm fairly sure that there are times you can see the actor reading his/her lines off of a cue card off-screen. Monotony is one thing, but that actually, isn't the problem here - everything else is. There's a total emotional dearth at the script's core, and with emotion absent what we're left with is these cardboard figures blandly reading a poorly constructed argument on the morality and sociology of crime. I wanted there to be another layer, some kind of subtext, maybe even something metaphorical going on but there just isn't. At times the writing borders on incompetent - especially with the girl and her ex-boyfriend: really i see no point whatsoever in them being at the party, their only contribution to the plot is needless time-wasting. I don't hate the performances, because i think the fault lies as much with the writers as the cast but surely good actors can make a bad script work - even to some small extent? Perhaps not. James Stewart, FWIW, is the most bearable of those appearing the feature, although that's only because he's playing James Stewart who i happen to like; if Tom Hanks was in the role i would undoubtedly have hated him.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPqjmTFe4cLXlTNM-HCZ8BxJz7_CrrRYliAtWnJoXwLitqLcy9Izb_sgCrXqgc47s0B0RtCa0XuUpjFs4Z4BQUj_Bh1l1BKGTDIxRb7CZO3TILffu6NGGCpV_0L3NeOSdzYgzctZniXw/s1600-h/vlcsnap-38483.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPqjmTFe4cLXlTNM-HCZ8BxJz7_CrrRYliAtWnJoXwLitqLcy9Izb_sgCrXqgc47s0B0RtCa0XuUpjFs4Z4BQUj_Bh1l1BKGTDIxRb7CZO3TILffu6NGGCpV_0L3NeOSdzYgzctZniXw/s320/vlcsnap-38483.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154555610582576914" /></a><br /><br />All in all, i was left thoroughly disappointed by a film that seemed to hold so much promise and didn't deliver, at all.Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-74550766385633953232007-11-26T11:10:00.001+00:002008-12-14T08:17:11.352+00:00Black Moon (1975) - Louis Malle<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.granadamovieposters.com/photos/blackmoonOS.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.granadamovieposters.com/photos/blackmoonOS.jpeg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The tagline for Malle's first English language feature, <span style="font-style:italic;">"An apocalyptic Alice in Wonderland"</span>, is as misleading as it is an accurate summary of everything the film stands for. It is apocalyptic, but only in the most rudimentary of senses with the setting of the film taking a large backward step here in favour of the actions and events that form the film's plot. Don't understand? Well, i've seen the film twice in the last couple of days and neither do I. Enigmatic, perhaps even profound, Malle eschews cinematic dogma with confidence and aplomb providing a film that's as baffling as it is absorbing, intoxicating and off-putting in equal measure. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujo-xxHcZTAgJZZYIs2G3N521ZFGy1LBtABSXbFUN2oV0fdQWTm-5npP28Mqj3Achh8tUPih6c4RxGXUaIV6dWD8p04vHG_RtwRBE_NoK8sF64-teG9ppDAuOWF5h8bTMZuMhmvimBXA/s1600-h/vlcsnap-146859.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujo-xxHcZTAgJZZYIs2G3N521ZFGy1LBtABSXbFUN2oV0fdQWTm-5npP28Mqj3Achh8tUPih6c4RxGXUaIV6dWD8p04vHG_RtwRBE_NoK8sF64-teG9ppDAuOWF5h8bTMZuMhmvimBXA/s320/vlcsnap-146859.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137126702081976210" /></a><br /><br />Essentially, the film follows Lily. We don't know who she is but she's running (more specifically, driving) from something. A couple of external scenes show there is some kind of war of attrition going on between men and women. When she can get no further by car, she continues on foot first following a horseman(?) then a unicorn she spies. The unicorn, along with hens, pigs, sheep, a rat, an eagle, a millipede, snakes and a horse is just one of the film's animal images. The unicorn leads her to a house, in which she finds an old lady (<span style="font-weight:bold;">Therese Giehse</span>) who speaks in tongues to a large rat and occasionally talks to someone on a CB radio to describe what Lily is doing. Later, Lily (<span style="font-weight:bold;">Cathryn Harrison</span>) meets Lily (<span style="font-weight:bold;">Joe Dallesandro</span>) and his sister, Lily (<span style="font-weight:bold;">Alexandra Stewart</span>). Not much of importance really happens after this, except for Lily talking to the unicorn and playing Wagner on the piano, Lily (Joe) killing an eagle and Lily (Alex) breastfeeding the old lady.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyVFpUMqWRgpQtzeL0Av-o_-UMdBP8wnEHt173nkHHOQ8VmrnQY7Qw4a2UHPr4JP8_HZJhv_IP6CY8cttqJ6QT1bvDyT_p1TLRFPILEbiwE0_UncQ_obcBl1fXjaqaRdQmZNA17_gt44/s1600-h/vlcsnap-140476.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvyVFpUMqWRgpQtzeL0Av-o_-UMdBP8wnEHt173nkHHOQ8VmrnQY7Qw4a2UHPr4JP8_HZJhv_IP6CY8cttqJ6QT1bvDyT_p1TLRFPILEbiwE0_UncQ_obcBl1fXjaqaRdQmZNA17_gt44/s320/vlcsnap-140476.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137124116511663954" /></a><br /><br />Considering that anything we see could be as much fantasy for Lily as it is reality. critiquing the film becomes problematic. You can't say that the old woman wouldn't have set all those alarm clocks to go off at the same time, as much as you can't say unicorns don't exist/talk. Things happen and recur in the film that defy reason or logic that seem, somehow to have an importance or meaning. One could attach arbitrary meanings to individual scenes - the clocks being thrown from the window as a <span style="font-style:italic;">"time flies"</span> gesture for instance, however i fell that ignores the spirit of the work. In writing the screenplay, Malle seems to have been aiming for some kind of cinematic equivalent to automatic writing where things happen and only afterwards with hindsight can we look at the results for some kind of meaning. At the same time though, it's a deeply personal film for the director who shot and edited it at his home in the Dordogne valley.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3UMuGXxZrRv2W2Xh3zy5wFx3qopGWxxWlVXLd2sALqkNtWZ4OyEaJGmgw99ndg8DoJaSY4FyX9BI9AhmefdaAyJ6AzAzvaXyRjFnzDkF7ivg1r9acE6hns_nTJVBvnl2IF5i8xCaPdI8/s1600-h/vlcsnap-142428.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3UMuGXxZrRv2W2Xh3zy5wFx3qopGWxxWlVXLd2sALqkNtWZ4OyEaJGmgw99ndg8DoJaSY4FyX9BI9AhmefdaAyJ6AzAzvaXyRjFnzDkF7ivg1r9acE6hns_nTJVBvnl2IF5i8xCaPdI8/s320/vlcsnap-142428.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137124709217150818" /></a><br /><br />Taken as a kind of pubescent voyage of discovery, a lose form of linearity can be derived in the narrative. The film opens on the childish Lily running from the battle of the sexes, she witnesses it (women being slaughtered at a roadside) but doesn't take part, only picking up a gun much later in the film when a body is discovered in the house's garden. From her external flight, she enters the new world of the film's interior where she encounters siblings (Lily and Lily) who lead a pseudo-incestuous relationship, and the old lady who can be seen to embody a perverse notion of maternity. The old lady even plays on pubescent insecurities, laughing loudly at the Lily not having any bosom. The bastardised effeminacy seems to be a central current of the film, even extending to the bizarre [un]natural things we see outside. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgCuu2kM8h7KQTi_bJqm4qdUxY8XrJvle8A7rde1z-ElyGTKBFUrRMVcec4ruUjpsvtPHFji7dnOiWgi0eAZCAH6fL0RUdW9y9445zpNABL_-9_X2XX4WO253NXejjTuLHS5gjYsTu-PY/s1600-h/vlcsnap-151273.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgCuu2kM8h7KQTi_bJqm4qdUxY8XrJvle8A7rde1z-ElyGTKBFUrRMVcec4ruUjpsvtPHFji7dnOiWgi0eAZCAH6fL0RUdW9y9445zpNABL_-9_X2XX4WO253NXejjTuLHS5gjYsTu-PY/s320/vlcsnap-151273.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137128501673273266" /></a><br /><br />The sight of naked children herding animals, and sheep flocking should not, <span style="font-style:italic;">prima facie</span> be a threatening or foreboding event yet Lily runs franticly from the sheep and the sight of the children with the large pig and other animals seems to take something almost natural and make it part of a surreal nightmare. Actually, is it even a nightmare? Lily only seems to be aware of the war, but have no comprehension of the relationship between the old lady and the two Lilies; her actions inside the house are always instinctive, rushed frantic - yet on her first encounter she seems to know why the old lady attacks her (something about a watch?). Conversely, she screams when the old lady suffocates and - in a quick edit - we see a masked intruder strangling her. The old lady also says that Lily sees things and believes there's a war on; are we to take this as a dose of reality in Lily's fantastical nightmare, or is it just another bit of nonsense into the mélange.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizV53z5bGyQvwb4NYzidM2QmNXpC68VRVkfsY6_xPLsFerh_xHxBQ26F03KT_7bopyXPduf6aN-bk0IDGOszO4xYOmbbHpO_st8E1D1K5BUjt7p3Ota9hj10agyAdN6sUidXivz_gqt3o/s1600-h/vlcsnap-143425.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizV53z5bGyQvwb4NYzidM2QmNXpC68VRVkfsY6_xPLsFerh_xHxBQ26F03KT_7bopyXPduf6aN-bk0IDGOszO4xYOmbbHpO_st8E1D1K5BUjt7p3Ota9hj10agyAdN6sUidXivz_gqt3o/s320/vlcsnap-143425.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137125276152833906" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Alice in Wonderland</span> is unavoidable when talking about <span style="font-style:italic;">Black Moon</span>. A feminine protagonist goes on a surreal journey encountering talking animals and a myriad of other characters; she is scared and trying desperately to get home. Here however, Alice only provides the roughest sense of the narrative structure - the linear journey that leads to these bizarre encounters, and also a sense that it shouldn't all (if ever) make sense. One big difference however, is that Lily doesn't wake up at the end. This is not an adaptation of Caroll, it's incorporates the structure to tell it's own story but pays as much attention to Wagner's Tristan und Isolde as it does to the literary work. There's an unmistakeable earthliness to the film, it's symbiosis with the land underpins everything - nature comes into man's world and vica versa, to the point that she can hold conversation with a unicorn. It's this sense of earthliness that allows the shots of animals to seem in context, and also lets myth intermingle with legend and folklore on the screen without question. It doesn't make much sense, but somehow it fits.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNyQeA-IkP0EGYdW1k3PisLmFfaV90CT8LEuGF3MhmZQwjXgnRfIOiOHJBqF_c5kiGyomuIKE9oFCjQyJRmIi_B3l26fxbHgfHKfsVHeDLOCLd4LF0cNMClQE5M4RoDj3wDhUUgvYbFvI/s1600-h/vlcsnap-143801.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNyQeA-IkP0EGYdW1k3PisLmFfaV90CT8LEuGF3MhmZQwjXgnRfIOiOHJBqF_c5kiGyomuIKE9oFCjQyJRmIi_B3l26fxbHgfHKfsVHeDLOCLd4LF0cNMClQE5M4RoDj3wDhUUgvYbFvI/s320/vlcsnap-143801.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137125709944530818" /></a><br /><br />The most crucial question remains: is the film a success? Well, if by that we mean <span style="font-style:italic;">"does this film achieve the director's intentions"</span> then i think the answer has to be yes (to some extent). The director always insisted its inclusion in retrospectives of his work and, to all intense purposes, was proud of the finished product despite the box office flop it became (and then there's the fact that Malle created a shorter, 1 hour cut of the film which he was also happy with). Financially, it was a flop arriving to very mixed reactions in the arthouse crowd but is it an artistic success of merit? I have to say that personally, i found it impossibly dull. The long, long periods of time without any dialogue whatsoever were often all too mind-numbing. For most of the film, very little happens at all. There are events but they can at best be sporadic; i can see it would be very easy to fall asleep during the film. This was shot by Bergman's cinematographer, <span style="font-weight:bold;">Sven Nykvist</span> yet it looks so dull - this at least was an artistic decision to only shoot the film when it was overcast (and when it was sunny shoot the interiors); Malle wanted it to look flat, opaque, without shadow, a film shot at an undefined time of day: a dawn or dusk of man/woman. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD_gxntfhVyn7DP_tzVFa14RKhuyHXqbUkhUyBQLfJJB7M4PrHdIyTIALu-7UgJPfmN49n4whG8kyoywKq1amH21-Pa7T1L_Y9jGcM7rtc98o0_fgExe-OBgvMmpYg512ichdjiTQFRGU/s1600-h/vlcsnap-147964.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD_gxntfhVyn7DP_tzVFa14RKhuyHXqbUkhUyBQLfJJB7M4PrHdIyTIALu-7UgJPfmN49n4whG8kyoywKq1amH21-Pa7T1L_Y9jGcM7rtc98o0_fgExe-OBgvMmpYg512ichdjiTQFRGU/s320/vlcsnap-147964.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137127891787917218" /></a><br /><br />Saying the outside is dull, ignores the frankly brilliant interior shots - especially those lit by fire or candlelight (something Nykvist has excelled at in his career) that brought to mind works like Jarman's <span style="font-style:italic;">The Tempest</span> for it's hauntingly romantic interiors. The performances are the measure of restraint, glances and shifts in posture filling in for the lack of dialogue, the actors erotic in their androgyny. It's so odd: a film that seems to put the audience at such a distance then, in a moment of brilliance, sucks you inexorably into the narrative intellectually and emotionally - for me the scene in the film that makes it all worth it is the one when Lily plays piano for the children. Out of the lethargic ordinariness of the film, rises like a phoenix from the ashes, a few minutes of captivating, sumptuous cinema that comes in waves reaching an incredible crescendo; it's literally worth watching for the one scene where - through the artistic medium - she escapes her surreal hell, and we can forgive Malle for making us wait so long to see what he can produce.<br /><br />Overall: <span style="font-weight:bold;">6/10 </span>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com261tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-42156217394528243392007-11-01T10:09:00.000+00:002008-12-14T08:17:12.795+00:00Frantic (1988) - Roman Polanski<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.lovefilm.com/lovefilm/images/products/8/1628-large.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.lovefilm.com/lovefilm/images/products/8/1628-large.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Roman Polanski</span>'s Hitchcock homage, <span style="font-style:italic;">Frantic</span>, was a far better experience than i'd bargained on. Harrison Ford plays the American bureaucrat out of his depth in a very mono-linguistic Paris. His wife scarpers while he's cleaning his nether regions in the shower beginning the film's main plot line - the search for his wife. The film could just as well been called Frustrated because he runs into dead-ends wherever he turns. At first, it seemed the film was making fun of - or at least highlighting - the pitfalls of cultural/linguistic ignorance in a foreign land; it's ok while everything's fine but as soon as things go array things get very difficult very quickly. However, this taut first half with minimal action and maximum notching-up of palpable tension gives way in the second half first to a plot involving drug smuggling, then finally to international nuclear espionage and a showdown on the Seine.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICooBBF49y7yBfaGAfYN6hCrzRnODVdeAMT4m6uWUITr-UCTlMrtTvTM_yZwPumEquWlJbgPcAqU0AfjDlt6n26GXBZ1s15PsENnvcsG8tXE9_xbplC1xg8UQq1Bns1MYfbzWF2Cj3JI/s1600-h/vlcsnap-97890.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiICooBBF49y7yBfaGAfYN6hCrzRnODVdeAMT4m6uWUITr-UCTlMrtTvTM_yZwPumEquWlJbgPcAqU0AfjDlt6n26GXBZ1s15PsENnvcsG8tXE9_xbplC1xg8UQq1Bns1MYfbzWF2Cj3JI/s320/vlcsnap-97890.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127813347503054802" /></a><br /><br />Beyond the fisticuffs, a naked Ford receiving a roundhouse kick to the face, characters scrambling over rooftops and spies in car chases there's much more to the film's construction. Polanski and cinematographer, Sobocinski, achieve countless shots that are simply brilliant in their simplicity as much as the attention to detail. The frame is so often broken up with verticals (doorways, windows etc) into at least 2, if not 3, distinct sections of action. Polanski compounds this with an incredible use of recessive depth which leaves the extreme background out of focus but ever-present. The colour photography, set and costume design like so many movies of its time looks routed in the 80s but this isn't necessarily such a bad thing. The relative dullness, the low contrast and saturation of the photography, allow the plot's tension and excitement to come to the fore rather than distract from it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9yXTLpb-zA0bkTdNz0G4AHf1d06fPrOBxVsnR7r8OXtzXbG9Xd1j9Rpxyv2aVTLiRbhModo3DpOetjriPlnr-BNrN6kEKjzMApAkYukj6C9E0DBopijL-A36sjFxJ4OycNDQM0j5PChI/s1600-h/vlcsnap-99328.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9yXTLpb-zA0bkTdNz0G4AHf1d06fPrOBxVsnR7r8OXtzXbG9Xd1j9Rpxyv2aVTLiRbhModo3DpOetjriPlnr-BNrN6kEKjzMApAkYukj6C9E0DBopijL-A36sjFxJ4OycNDQM0j5PChI/s320/vlcsnap-99328.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127813948798476258" /></a><br /><br />Ford excels in the lead in a role more akin to Jack Ryan than to Mr Jones, while the supporting cast do rather well with their own limited characters. All in all an entertaining, well-paced thriller that never outstays its welcome.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsPqs6QEU_3-cH3B7K9DAXyf5SOJte2Jb5CL6slqg6Fn1vE2yNschR_c_RDR-WlWdjLHONYt_QbZN2XOtqIAj0hSNFSzGYbzuEvqZk8_6G23Ef86-7S2IWMeLpyVZeCHAzZPatuWkDATQ/s1600-h/vlcsnap-101628.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsPqs6QEU_3-cH3B7K9DAXyf5SOJte2Jb5CL6slqg6Fn1vE2yNschR_c_RDR-WlWdjLHONYt_QbZN2XOtqIAj0hSNFSzGYbzuEvqZk8_6G23Ef86-7S2IWMeLpyVZeCHAzZPatuWkDATQ/s320/vlcsnap-101628.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127814928051019762" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">7/10</span>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-20628852506903203622007-10-28T10:11:00.000+00:002008-12-14T08:17:14.763+00:00A hot sojourn of a very different nature - photos from EgyptWent for a week all-inclusive in Egypt - Hurghada to be precise - earlier this year with Faye. Spent the majority of the week going brown, then red, by the pool drinking free beer and cocktails and eating the free burger and chips. The one excursion we did go out on was a day out into the desert, racing over the sand dunes in the back of some very rickety ol' jeeps (sans seat belts) before riding camels and looking around a bedoin village before being entertained by traditional dance and food in the evening, stopping on the way back in the middle of the desert for a bit of star-gazing (without any ambient light the sky looks very different indeed).<br /><br />On coming back we spent about 10 hours being delayed in an airport with a very British mutiny by half the flight passengers who got it into their head that our flight wasn't safe to take off. Considering it was a military airport i found it surprising that the ruction kicked up by irate travellers was too much for the staff to handle - to the point that they ignored usual security checks and allowed the flight crew into the terminal to explain the situation to us directly. ON the plus side the airline gave us free pizza and coke, although they compounded the bad-feelings by then accusing some people of taking double portions and messing with our boarding passes. <br /><br /><br />hotel lobby:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUr3KK1rZO8FYeCKmunAtmlnfzN7RWGA9fpSt4Ll9Lln9yjkJMt_CeM4_sd9RVQkBfPnb4WzwmHp8_HWP0kSRO8Y3zn6ua-jhasnJzKTT4e_-0D1YsKuhjhfUgQlVnw4Oqiv67cYq72A8/s1600-h/DSCF0990.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUr3KK1rZO8FYeCKmunAtmlnfzN7RWGA9fpSt4Ll9Lln9yjkJMt_CeM4_sd9RVQkBfPnb4WzwmHp8_HWP0kSRO8Y3zn6ua-jhasnJzKTT4e_-0D1YsKuhjhfUgQlVnw4Oqiv67cYq72A8/s320/DSCF0990.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126332700477431746" /></a><br /><br /><br />sunset over the Red Sea mountains:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgKCeq2iRnB28DrlT5zfBlriZ0xo6GI666RnW0LeTG7bCSafI2eBJKaHBHwUQredz2ChAffLzgc9NlwzKKclQb008aiG2hgyvXgvmXtoOH0RINprYtNVKxjuACjpLHt2U4qrb7OOkIp3k/s1600-h/DSCF0918.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgKCeq2iRnB28DrlT5zfBlriZ0xo6GI666RnW0LeTG7bCSafI2eBJKaHBHwUQredz2ChAffLzgc9NlwzKKclQb008aiG2hgyvXgvmXtoOH0RINprYtNVKxjuACjpLHt2U4qrb7OOkIp3k/s320/DSCF0918.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126332210851159986" /></a><br /><br /><br />very real Saharan landscape:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKj9WlUyOcfBbQ1fsiCjYWn8tTIe4Zmh_AetXn52UhZy47aP2UP7Na5_0f4Kh4g6MIvn9n_zumJ7xbStPSBbcQYNVjRsVONcE1FyLjKZfq4xDFIF5YgjvNL7BdflYlS647WOLPMHSKLXc/s1600-h/DSCF0902.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKj9WlUyOcfBbQ1fsiCjYWn8tTIe4Zmh_AetXn52UhZy47aP2UP7Na5_0f4Kh4g6MIvn9n_zumJ7xbStPSBbcQYNVjRsVONcE1FyLjKZfq4xDFIF5YgjvNL7BdflYlS647WOLPMHSKLXc/s320/DSCF0902.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126331648210444194" /></a><br /><br /><br />on the horizon i think you can make out a mirage (non-existent mountain range)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH2qiS8CDewlZk_YANuUORSN37MBFIF5q04fm5X-AOdixc9PNXb5vFlcm-19dlush9bPA0nkoqNZ_DquXXf9Wgm77neA2wE_a5BSAXgxKDF0NwvktzLBoRNDcnLRMprS3JkiyoU_9CGM8/s1600-h/DSCF0899.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH2qiS8CDewlZk_YANuUORSN37MBFIF5q04fm5X-AOdixc9PNXb5vFlcm-19dlush9bPA0nkoqNZ_DquXXf9Wgm77neA2wE_a5BSAXgxKDF0NwvktzLBoRNDcnLRMprS3JkiyoU_9CGM8/s320/DSCF0899.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126331132814368658" /></a><br /><br /><br />Those glasses did contain free [strong] coctails, until we drank them.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV4mSlWI8ks_sLxjRvoIc-5_71QxRqUwODJzbsZId3EvzL9ufYbkJnqK8VQfFTbco8DR72Z516Y7C2GItjVnWZ7pc5KOmQVrfZpVbEuRWK_2Yr4zqX6_y5AfxX8g_L1FsL1xG9ZhnVDQs/s1600-h/DSCF0870.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV4mSlWI8ks_sLxjRvoIc-5_71QxRqUwODJzbsZId3EvzL9ufYbkJnqK8VQfFTbco8DR72Z516Y7C2GItjVnWZ7pc5KOmQVrfZpVbEuRWK_2Yr4zqX6_y5AfxX8g_L1FsL1xG9ZhnVDQs/s320/DSCF0870.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126330540108881794" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge65eRpcYX-9uYQAX6IA0UU1sqEUWqtSVSjGD7e-LsUt7gSqrAzCiKWk2cZmd4xE82HPggR26RP0KtOOYcdBqPCihzl24uf5VD9RvtL3SDVwF30DRyZyE6G2eIQ63Rcbr6LDSkxi9p96c/s1600-h/DSCF0851.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge65eRpcYX-9uYQAX6IA0UU1sqEUWqtSVSjGD7e-LsUt7gSqrAzCiKWk2cZmd4xE82HPggR26RP0KtOOYcdBqPCihzl24uf5VD9RvtL3SDVwF30DRyZyE6G2eIQ63Rcbr6LDSkxi9p96c/s320/DSCF0851.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126330054777577330" /></a><br /><br /><br />entrance to our hotel:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXh57Mn1yidARBwd3fiD7bd-I3scFYgSbfq73DK7qwYblrXSGooRRTwBpf7bvDVc3DSS1vcOn-1R-Ib9w5H72HGyAcxTR6yibbnhF1HUKEYHReZizM_ysv5IQ0ovpLn0Mya1TSmm9Gig8/s1600-h/DSCF0817.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXh57Mn1yidARBwd3fiD7bd-I3scFYgSbfq73DK7qwYblrXSGooRRTwBpf7bvDVc3DSS1vcOn-1R-Ib9w5H72HGyAcxTR6yibbnhF1HUKEYHReZizM_ysv5IQ0ovpLn0Mya1TSmm9Gig8/s320/DSCF0817.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126329453482155874" /></a><br /><br />lounging by the pool:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqDkmSB5Mc6Z-FE0f9EiI-Vf8097wCduse2PG7CTWXI9C2w6fygOCjGVGmLj8xvKmf0yMUzQE8Gm0_veW9_wqmTjTBExllPtEmZm1ENR8T42_1xJC25K-bDwacGYe9EVz2lXU_FaTo6n8/s1600-h/DSCF0785.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqDkmSB5Mc6Z-FE0f9EiI-Vf8097wCduse2PG7CTWXI9C2w6fygOCjGVGmLj8xvKmf0yMUzQE8Gm0_veW9_wqmTjTBExllPtEmZm1ENR8T42_1xJC25K-bDwacGYe9EVz2lXU_FaTo6n8/s320/DSCF0785.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126328886546472786" /></a>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-58729328158322573742007-10-02T22:58:00.000+01:002007-10-02T23:01:20.954+01:00Finding Neverland (2004) - Marc Forster<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://affimg.tfaw.com/coversw/400/55/ddwd40155.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://affimg.tfaw.com/coversw/400/55/ddwd40155.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The key word here is competent. There is nothing specifically bad about <span style="font-weight:bold;">Marc Forster</span>'s film, it's just there's nothing particularly exceptional about it either. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Depp</span> and <span style="font-weight:bold;">Winslet</span> phone in reasonable performances while Forster does the minimum with the material provided to produce a film which, although not in the least bit dull, doesn't ever amount to something that feels wholly satisfactory.<br /><br />The story follows J.M. Barrie as, under the pressure of critical slatings of his latest plays, he immerses himself in the world of Sylvia Davies' children - one of whom becomes the boy upon whom the character of Peter Pan is based. All this going on while - unbeknownst to the family, Silvia is desperately ill following the passing on of her husband. Backed by a financier at the end of his tether, with more money than sense, the Peter Pan story conjures itself in the head of Mr Barrie heavily inspired by the children with which he so closely associates. There is a brief mention of the rumours circulating that something untoward is going on between the playwright and the kids, but in this family film such talk is presented as bitter cynicism by prying eyes and stuffy-nosed high society who don't take kindly to breaking the mould. By contrast Barrie's unconventional production is presented here as something of a brainwave, a revolution in the medium, something which pushes art forward upon a broader audience socially as much as artistically.<br /><br />It's all very neat, yet unavoidably shallow. The film never even seems interested in the whys and wherefores behind Mr Barrie's relationship to the children beyond him being genuinely kind of heart, and any sexual chemistry between him and Silvia is underplayed to the point of non-existence. We learn next to nothing of Barrie's background, nor what happens after the play's performance. Ultimately, I'm afraid Forster wants to turn this interesting drama-come-fantasy into a tear-jerking family drama about love, but the underdeveloped characters of the children and Silvia left me, in the final reel, simply wondering <span style="font-style:italic;">"is that it?"</span>. Was the play a cathartic way of dealing with the mother's illness for the children; did Barrie intend it that way or was this merely co/incidental? Forster, apparently, doesn't care as long as the music stirs on the right queue and every negative shot is followed by a cosy, nice one.<br /><br />It's a safe watch, that veers clear of tedium, but does nothing to linger in the memory for more than about 30 seconds after the credits have expired. Taking <span style="font-style:italic;">Monster's Ball</span> into account, Mr Forster must do better next time IMHO.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">5/10 </span>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-1704263032032499062007-09-03T10:43:00.000+01:002007-09-03T12:08:44.293+01:00Azumi (2003) - Ryuhei Kitamura<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img403.imageshack.us/img403/8965/vlcsnap23620bg0.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img403.imageshack.us/img403/8965/vlcsnap23620bg0.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Not a great film by any stretch of the imagination, <span style="font-weight:bold;">Azumi</span> is a simple story told fairly well with plenty of fighting and blood-spilling thrown in to keep the audience entertained. The story is essentially one of assassins being sent out into the world to kill bad men, only to start questioning their actions when they come across nice people and witness innocents being slain. I could probably throw in a quote here about how along with great power comes responsibility, only in <span style="font-style:italic;">Azumi</span> the assassins have no responsibilities, are are actively encouraged not to feel guilt. Azumi herself, is the only woman in the group, the fastest and most talented of all of them it is abundantly clear from the first reel that she is the one who will save the day in the end.<br /><br />Considering the body-count (very high - 3 figures at least), explosions and other sorts of violence it's surprising that such a film could be as dull and boring as this. The dialogue is monotonous and - for the mostpart - the editing of the action scenes is choppy beyond distraction, throw in far far too much slow motion and an awful electric guitar soundtrack and the whole thing gets quite annoying very quickly indeed. There's not much required of the actors here, other than to talk solemnly and fight - which is a pity because one or two hint at some genuine talent.<br /><br />With cliché compounding cliché, and no blood-letting we haven't already seen before in <span style="font-style:italic;">Kill Bill</span> i wouldn't recommend this to anyone. There are much, <span style="font-style:italic;">much</span> better Samurai flicks out there, and much better Japanese film-makers too. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">5/10</span>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-66108930135129460892007-09-03T10:27:00.001+01:002007-09-03T12:08:20.140+01:00La Casa Sperduta Nel Parco (1980) - Ruggero Deodato<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img403.imageshack.us/img403/371/vlcsnap9798vh8.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img403.imageshack.us/img403/371/vlcsnap9798vh8.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br />It's a good job <span style="font-weight:bold;">Ruggero Deodato</span> made a name for himself, and established a reputation with <span style="font-style:italic;">Cannibal Holocaust</span> because watching <span style="font-weight:bold;">The House On The Edge Of The Park</span> one could easily assume he's the Uwe Boll of the 1980s.<br /><br />Starring David Hess from Wes Craven's <span style="font-style:italic;">Last House On The Left</span> the parallels to that film do not end there, although in Deodato's film there are attempts at social commentary - albeit ones delivered with all the subtlety and nuance of a sledgehammer. The set-up is very close to Craven's film - people are tortured and abused at gun/knife-point before the captives turn on their captors to wreak bloody vengeance. The way this film never remotely approaches reality, is also a feature shared with the earlier work, only whereas Craven went for comedy Deodato goes for the plain ludicrous. A spoiler follows, but as i wouldn't recommend this film to anyone then i don't think it matters much (even so, if you might watch the film just skip to the next paragraph). The most ludicrous part of the film has to be the reason for it all - after all the killing and hurting we find out that it was all set up by one of the rich characters as a way of getting his own back on the guy who raped his sister; at this point you have to wonder why his friends agreed to be humiliated, raped and abused just so he could kill a guy none of them have ever met.<br /><br />Like I've said above, the film is dire. Not even dire, but truly, abysmally atrocious. The lighting doesn't even match up from one shot to the next, never mind the play fighting that passes for violence or the dumbest scream in film history. Then there's the dialogue, the flow of the plot etc etc nothing makes sense, nothing is even barely believable. There's suspension of disbelief with films, then there's stuff that's so bad you just have to laugh at it, this is such a case. Thankfully however, being in the UK i saw the film after it had been cut by about 11 minutes - i for one am glad i didn't have to endure another 11 minutes of this crap. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">3/10</span>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-65361466943319591232007-08-28T17:23:00.001+01:002007-08-28T17:28:46.913+01:0048 Hours in ParisWith only one half-decent idea for what to do for my girlfriend's birthday, i made a snap decision to take her to Paris for a couple of days last week:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/1206101203/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1112/1206101203_fc768ce8ff.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="DSCF0753" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/1206956880/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1202/1206956880_857029cf44.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="DSCF0747" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/1206088471/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1060/1206088471_6040f67304.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="DSCF0745" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/1206081767/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1412/1206081767_a8bf98cf83.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="DSCF0744" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/1206937196/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1178/1206937196_8231f46500.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="DSCF0743" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/1206930980/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1423/1206930980_fbcc5762ef.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="DSCF0739" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/1206062941/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1141/1206062941_cb80590a76.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="DSCF0738" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/1206042301/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1193/1206042301_0c374ea6f6.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="DSCF0732" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/1206107623/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1352/1206107623_f7bfce43e1.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="DSCF0737" /></a>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-9011977902641952422007-07-09T08:29:00.001+01:002007-07-09T08:31:37.937+01:00Day at the RacesMy day at the British Formula 1 Grand Prix at Silverstone, in pictures:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/755130433/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1243/755130433_e24695976d.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="renault"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/755130387/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1229/755130387_ea99027e0f.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="bmw"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/755130285/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1056/755130285_a05870f6fe.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="ferrari"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/754957345/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1365/754957345_b9e3334b22.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="lewis hamilton"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/754957325/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1074/754957325_47c0acfaec.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="ra"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/754957243/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1330/754957243_23b4db33bd.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="red arrows heart"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/755764426/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1390/755764426_4774b6bfec.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="red arrows 12"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/755764402/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1209/755764402_e0593c51d9.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="red arrows 11"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/755764208/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1253/755764208_d5187ee2fb.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="red arrows 8"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/755717300/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1431/755717300_8d57f1037e.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="red arrows 6"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/755653592/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1229/755653592_e756dabd7c.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="drivers"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/755653548/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1115/755653548_d3706ce7be.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="porsche"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/755653392/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1205/755653392_2b7e5fef60.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="view left"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/755653512/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1223/755653512_43f8f320db.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="view front"></a><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ifr/755653374/" title="Photo Sharing"><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1211/755653374_a7d1d1bb0c.jpg" width="500" height="375" alt="view right"></a>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-82490734861049998812007-07-02T09:55:00.000+01:002007-07-02T10:02:54.952+01:00L'Amico Di Famiglia (2006) - Paolo Sorrentino<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.indieforbunnies.com/img/lamicodifamiglia.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.indieforbunnies.com/img/lamicodifamiglia.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />In <span style="font-style:italic;">Family Friend</span>, a wonderful recent Italian film <span style="font-weight:bold;">Giacomo Rizzo</span> plays Geremia De Geremei. Geremia is an old man, a tailor with a rather repulsive appearance who lives in a run-down apartment with his ageing sickly mother. He seems nice - people come to him for advice, money help and lots of people seem to like him. The poor old guy couldn't harm a fly, the moment you see him you want to put your arm round the quaint old fella and tell him everything is going to be alright (though you'd have to say it in Italian as he doesn't speak English). This impression lasts for about 15 minutes or so, maybe less, before it's revealed he's a lone shark who charges 100% interest on all monies lent. But what can and old man like this do if someone doesn't pay? Well he employs some rather burly twins to get the money, or something of equal value out of his customers. He's "a friend of the family" to everyone because no one wants to admit who he really is to others, or that they need his help. The film itself revolves largely around a father who can't afford his daughter's wedding, so he goes to Geremia to get the money for the wedding. Soon after the money has been lent, Geremia gets an offer from a businessman who needs a million Euros (that means 2 million repaid to Geremia - enough to set him up for life). Between the businessman, Geremia, the father and the gorgeous bride-to-be who will do anything to lower her father's repayments things get messy very quickly for all involved; all the while Geremia's one true friend in the world - a man with a penchant for line dancing and country music with a dream of moving to the US, offers him a friendly shoulder to rest on and some sound advice.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.lff.org.uk/image_library/16/59/3807.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.lff.org.uk/image_library/16/59/3807.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />This wonderfully shot film, captured largely in dark orange tones that bring a sense of Mediterranean warmth with a suspicious edge to the frame, seems to be all about friendship, and what constitutes "real" friendship. Geremia has lots of 'friends', but like the dealer in Patrice Leconte's <span style="font-style:italic;">My Best Friend</span> they are only in actuality business acquaintances. People respect Geremia because they fear him, and no matter how nice he tries to be to them they will always resent hi and the power he holds over them - even if he will never understand this because of his delusion that he is liked by these people. Why he doesn't seem to spend any of the money he makes (he keeps it all in a safety deposit box), and whether he was a loner before he was a lone shark aren't fully explained. It seems to be down to a very conservative, prudent outlook on life as well as his domineering mother who rules his life from her bed and his absent father who brought him up to be a lone shark. His only real friend might not be his country music-loving accomplice, but 'The Pirate' - a competing loan shark who may or may not exist, but in Geremia's world he certainly exists, and is probably the only person who can truly understand Geremia's situation. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.cthulhuland.net/wp-content/uploads/2006/11/amico-di-famiglia.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.cthulhuland.net/wp-content/uploads/2006/11/amico-di-famiglia.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The acting is as wonderful as the cinematography, Giacomo Rizzo is perfect in the lead while <span style="font-weight:bold;">Laura Chiatti</span> exudes sultry European sex appeal from every pore of her skin (even when her dancing leaves a little to be desired we still [i]want[/i] her as much as Geremia does). The editing of the music, the production design... it all comes together cleanly and crisply to elucidate a very unique vision of a seedier side to contemporary Italian existence outside of the major cities. In the end not all is answered, though nor should it be for this film - as it stands - is [i]very[/i] good and in the first 30 minutes or so, touches on genuine greatness where it an irresistible sense of power is attained. Let down only slightly by the con story that comes to the fore in the film's ending, the emotional complexity involved in trying to de-construct the film's protagonists is something not seen that often in cinema these days. Sorrentino refuses to paint a landscape of good guys and bad guys, he refuses to explain why nice people do bad things and he refuses (for the most-part) to give into stereotype and cliché (there is one wonderful scene in which we think Geremia is going to sexually assault a client, before it turns out that is not what he is after at all). A brilliant theatrical experience; a film i will probably try to revisit when it comes out on dvd.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">7</span> leaning towards <span style="font-weight:bold;">8/10</span>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-49758432213932770622007-06-19T10:47:00.000+01:002007-06-19T11:16:18.559+01:00Comédie de l'innocence (2000) - Raoul Ruiz<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.wga.hu/art/v/valentin/solomon.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.wga.hu/art/v/valentin/solomon.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">The Judgement Of Solomon</span>: I Kings iii 16-28</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Then came there two women, that were harlots, unto the king, and stood before him.<br />And the one woman said, O my lord, I and this woman dwell in one house; and I was delivered of a child with her in the house. And it came to pass the third day after that I was delivered, that this woman was delivered also: and we were together; there was no stranger with us in the house, save we two in the house. And this woman's child died in the night; because she overlaid it. And she arose at midnight, and took my son from beside me, while thine handmaid slept, and laid it in her bosom, and laid her dead child in my bosom. And when I rose in the morning to give my child suck, behold, it was dead: but when I had considered it in the morning, behold, it was not my son, which I did bear.<br />And the other woman said, Nay; but the living is my son, and the dead is thy son.<br />And this said, No; but the dead is thy son, and, the living is my son.<br />Thus they spake before the king.<br />Then said the king, The one saith, This is my son that liveth, and thy son is the dead and the other saith, Nay; but thy son is the dead, and my son is the living. And the king said, Bring me a sword.<br />And they brought a sword before the king.<br />And the king said, Divide the living child in two, and give half to the one, and half to the other.<br />Then spake the woman whose the living child was unto the king, for her bowels yearned upon her son, and she said, O my lord, give her the living child, and in no wise slay it.<br />But the other said, Let it be neither mine nor thine, but divide it.<br />Then the king answered and said, Give her the living child, and in no wise slay it she is the mother thereof.<br />And all Israel heard of the judgment which the king had judged; and they feared the king: for they saw that the wisdom of God was in him, to do judgement.</span> <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">Antonio Machado</span>: Is this the house where we cut innocents' throats?<br />No, here we just cut throats.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">The Film:</span> </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img514.imageshack.us/img514/396/vlcsnap81620lj9.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img514.imageshack.us/img514/396/vlcsnap81620lj9.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Ruiz's <span style="font-style:italic;">Comedy Of Innocence</span>, based upon <span style="font-weight:bold;">Massimo Bontempelli</span>'s novella <span style="font-style:italic;">Il Figlio Di Due Madri</span>, quickly emerges as a riddle, wrapped in an enigma shrouded in mystery. What at first seems to be a fairly straight forward tale of mistaken identity soon becomes something far more dense, far more perceptive and - far more interesting. As the director has stated, the film's narrative and the events within that narrative have an explanation but that explanation doesn't actually explain anything. Throwing the audience's perceptions of reality is one thing, but to do so in quite the controlled manner demonstrated here by Ruiz really is something quite extraordinary indeed. So, where to start with analysing such a superb piece of film making?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img515.imageshack.us/img515/4276/vlcsnap75747em8.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img515.imageshack.us/img515/4276/vlcsnap75747em8.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The story revolves around a comfortable bourgeois Parisian family, played by <span style="font-weight:bold;">Isabelle Huppert</span>, <span style="font-weight:bold;">Charles Berling</span>, <span style="font-weight:bold;">Denis Podalydès</span> and <span style="font-weight:bold;">Nils Hugon</span> - plus the nanny (<span style="font-weight:bold;">Laure de Clermont-Tonnerre</span>). This family enjoy their life surrounded by [mainly artistic] luxuries, Huppert is a theatrical designer who paints in her spare time and Podalydès is a businessman who spends a lot of his time travelling leaving his medical brother, Serge (Charles Berling) to look out for his family. Everything is going as per usual whe one day the young boy, Camille, starts behaving strangely. Strange behavious is not unusual for a 10 year old boy but Camille then claims that's not his name before taking his mother to a house in a part of Paris he's never visited before, claiming it to be his "real home" - then, we meet Isabella (<span style="font-weight:bold;">Jeanne Balibar</span>) who the boy claims is his real mother. Ariane (Huppert) invites Isabella to stay in their house while she figures out what is wrong with her son, hoping perhaps that medically-trained professional Serge might be able to cure whatever it is that is happening to him. During this time Camille has decided his name is in fact Paul - the name of Isabella's deceased son who also happened to be born on the same day as Camille, which raises the question for all involved, "Is Camille really Paul?". In the end a resolution of sorts, is reached although it still leaves many questions unanswered (almost certainly Ruiz's intention).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img514.imageshack.us/img514/3279/vlcsnap70238wc2.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img514.imageshack.us/img514/3279/vlcsnap70238wc2.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the film, is that it can be conceived of as a ghost story with no ghosts. Be it for Gallic traditional reasons, economic reasons or otherwise it is noted by the director on the Region 2 dvd that the French don't tend to make ghost films like some other countries do/have done. Camille has a friend, Alexandre, who may be imaginary, may be a ghost, or may actually exist in real life. Likewise, when we find out about the accident that supposedly killed Paul, there is enough left unsaid to suggest that there's a possibility that Camille could be Paul, in which case he would in effect be a living ghost - a boy who died but who is alive. The comfortable, expansive, bourgeois Parisian house in which most of the film takes place itself becomes a character in the film. Beyond the strange sounds there is a creepy, disturbing over-abundance of busts filling the mantelpieces and shelves of the interior, more than that however, as the film progresses the statues move to face in different directions. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img515.imageshack.us/img515/7725/vlcsnap86829zq3.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img515.imageshack.us/img515/7725/vlcsnap86829zq3.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />It's easily missed at first but on watching the film again it's quite noticeable that between scenes they move to look towards people or objects in the house - the most obvious example of which is when one of the paintings hanging in the house inexplicably changes from a portrait to <span style="font-style:italic;">The Judgement Of Solomon</span>; suddenly the statues in the room are all looking at the painting. There are other little things too - the way the camera pre-empts the movements of the characters as if the house knows what they are going to do, and then there are the strange sounds, sounds that don't match what is actually happening on-screen the most common of which is the rushing of water we hear when there is no water around.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img514.imageshack.us/img514/6923/vlcsnap86345pr6.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img514.imageshack.us/img514/6923/vlcsnap86345pr6.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Water, the ebb and flow of which, seems to form one of the central themes of the film. Be it the bizarre blue colours that afflicts some of the abstract images Camille films on his camera, or simply the way he holds his camera above the dinner table like a periscope rising from a submarine there is water running through this film. In one rather shocking scene the image itself warps and goes a blue tint as Camille invites his uncle to "come into the deep water" with him. It turns out there are quite literal reasons for this aquatic feel - the boy Paul drowned when he fell from a barge on The Seine, but beyond this water has always had connotations of femininity (see Polanski's <span style="font-style:italic;">Knife in The Water</span> for some not-so-subtle sexual symbolism involving water) and this is a film that very much deals with concepts of femininity and womanhood. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img96.imageshack.us/img96/7650/vlcsnap87722vu8.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img96.imageshack.us/img96/7650/vlcsnap87722vu8.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The film is filled with shots of flowing water that both mirror the fluid nature of the plot's development and suggest or hint at the emotional turbulence that could come. One angle of the film is that maternity, or the maternal instinct at least is as dangerous when array as any other force in nature, likewise water can be safe but with certain currents and eddies people can quickly find themselves impossibly submerged without oxygen; it's easy to quickly lose your bearings underwater. All of these notions come to the fore towards the film's climax with an emotionally shattered, desperate Isabelle Huppert sat in her garden on a chair with Camille/Paul running around her with his camera: all we can hear is the sound of rushing water.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img515.imageshack.us/img515/8088/vlcsnap88698xi4.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img515.imageshack.us/img515/8088/vlcsnap88698xi4.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I think it is the maternal elements of the film, and the other human relationships within it that form the crux of the masterpiece. On the face of it you could look at the film and see that the boy is lonely, that his rich mother (Huppert) doesn't love him, that the nanny who is always hovering in the background is more of a mother to him than his real one and that his 'new' mother gives him the love and affection he has craved for so long. Life isn't that simple though, and nor is the film. The nanny is having an affair with Serge (the boy's uncle), when Isabella arrives on the scene it's not too long before she too tries to seduce Serge - is this trying to suggest the two women are very similar? Certainly the nanny seems to resent Isabella's presence as it seems to impede her own maternal instincts; the nanny always carries a doll of a little girl around with her - again suggesting maternal issues relating to childhood. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img514.imageshack.us/img514/1368/vlcsnap75219lv9.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img514.imageshack.us/img514/1368/vlcsnap75219lv9.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Indeed, a psychologist could watch the film and see the father abandoning his child to go on business, but with Serge fulfilling the father-figure role for the majority of the film that doesn't quite explain what's happening or why. Serge himself is interesting because while he's clearly an adult, he gets very angry when he sees Camille playing with his toy cars - he doesn't quite throw a childish tantrum but you can see one brewing in his eyes. Having said [above] that Huppert's character doesn't love her son enough that patently isn't true - her hurt both physically and emotionally as her child rejects her is palpable; few actors can do torment like Isabelle Huppert and in the film even she really excels herself. Does perhaps the boy Camille feel he's been abandoned by his parents, maybe because he spends all his time with the nanny and his father usually only talks when telling him off? It's unlikely as we see they do spend a reasonable amount of time together as a family and get on with each other as well as any family unit can be expected to.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img96.imageshack.us/img96/5003/vlcsnap91301na4.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img96.imageshack.us/img96/5003/vlcsnap91301na4.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />It's this that really makes the film so brilliant in my mind - at first it's straight forward but the more you try to unravel the plot and the inter-relationships of the characters the more unfathomable it becomes. The way that Ruiz has thought through every aspect of the film-making process from the editing (there's a noticeable absence of shot/reverse shot cutting) to the sound (water, sound of footsteps etc) to the way each shot is framed beautifully with luxurious tracking and panning movements is simply a feast for any cinephile to behold, and it's all capped off with some incredible performances and, her, i ave to say the <span style="font-style:italic;">crème de la crème</span> is Jeanne Balibar as the invasive but seemingly innocent Isabella. A uniquely fantastic film, instantly rewatchable.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">9/10</span>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-23645872516461731192007-05-09T18:23:00.000+01:002007-05-09T18:41:07.157+01:00UpdateI originally intended to write up a blog response to an Israeli article on <span style="font-weight:bold;">Paradise Now</span>, the purpose of which would have been to discuss any anti-semitism present in that movie and in other preceeding works from other nations. Time got taken up by other things with the result i never found enough time to go through the film making the sort of notes i felt i needed to do any such discussion justice.<br /><br />I have however been watching a few other films with one mini-project on the go - namely watching all the Spike Lee films available here in the UK.<br /><br />So far i've watched:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Sucker Free City<br />She's Gotta Have It<br />25th Hour<br />Clockers</span><br /><br />and i've got <span style="font-weight:bold;">Bamboozled</span> sat atop the dvd player waiting to be seen (actualy, i've tried to watch it once but the mood wasn't right so i'm waiting for a better moment to give it my full attention).<br /><br />The other films i've got on the rental list to watch are:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Four Little Girls<br />Jungle Fever<br />Summer Of Sam<br />Malcolm X<br />Inside Man<br />Do The Right Thing<br />When The Levees Broke<br />He Got Game<br />She Hate Me</span><br /><br />And there are a couple more the rental company should be stocking soon.<br /><br />My intention is that after this mini-project is finished i'll blog something on the man and his filmography, then i'll do the same on another director whilst blogging entries on other interesting individual films i watch in the meantime.<br /><br />Besides Spike's joints i've also seen <span style="font-weight:bold;">The Devil's Backbone</span>, which really isn't anywhere near as good as <span style="font-weight:bold;">Pan's Labyrinth</span>, Chabrol's <span style="font-weight:bold;">Just Before Nightfall</span> and France's entry to the Academy: <span style="font-weight:bold;">Orchestra Seats</span>. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Syriana</span>, <span style="font-weight:bold;">Good Night And Good Luck</span> and the first 2 <span style="font-weight:bold;">Spider-Man</span> films complete the rest of what's been on my idot box over the last few weeks.<br /><br />Ciao, for nowMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-29298179033671399152007-04-25T12:33:00.000+01:002007-04-25T12:42:01.337+01:00Baraka (1992) - Ron FrickeI thought i'd just posta clip or two here from a film i saw just the other day which is already one of my favourite films of alltime. A multi-faceted look at humanity in the context of its surroundings, drawing out parallels between cultures and customs from across the globe. Shot in 70mm the film defines the term "awe-inspiring":<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5Fs3WGdhZtI"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5Fs3WGdhZtI" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/A4NpOcpPcZA"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/A4NpOcpPcZA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NCdIRjMFz7g"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NCdIRjMFz7g" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-37335749758694877802007-04-19T23:34:00.000+01:002007-04-19T23:44:38.051+01:00Les Amants réguliers (2005) - Philippe Garrel<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qabTa3M4D6I"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qabTa3M4D6I" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br />There is another short clip from this film on youtube <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kN3kEVDBuKo">HERE</a><br /><br />I'm not going to write much on this film, not much at all - i just felt i had to blog an entry on how, more than a film, Garrel's 180 minute mélange is an endurace test of the highest order. Seriously: people who make it through all three hours of this abysmal work in one sitting deserve some congratulations and - preferably - a medal.<br /><br />Set in 1968 Paris it's really not clear what this film is actually about, who it's about, what they do, or why. Stuff happens - albeit sporadically - but as we never really get to know any of the characters it becomes impossible to care about any of the events occuring onscreen. I'm sure there are thick layers or visual metaphor and symbolism, and undoubtedly the film is filled with references to the <span style="font-style:italic;">nouvelle vague</span> (even if the film's style itself seemed closer to Italian neo-realism) plus messages on the nature of artists and politics but for me it remains the embodiment of the arty, pretentious crap that puts so many people off foreig cinema.<br /><br />There are many <span style="font-style:italic;">many</span> better ways to spend three hours than watch the awful <span style="font-style:italic;">Regular Lovers</span>. <br /><br />My advice: watch <span style="font-style:italic;">Prima Della Rivoluzione</span> or <span style="font-style:italic;">The Dreamers</span> instead.Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-41094922033277875942007-04-16T10:30:00.000+01:002007-04-16T11:46:54.159+01:00F***ing Åmål (1998) - Lucas Moodysson<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img208.imageshack.us/img208/2775/vlcsnap53700ep9.png "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img208.imageshack.us/img208/2775/vlcsnap53700ep9.png " border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Varför är jag så dum? Varför älskar jag Elin? Jag hatar henne men jag älskar henne på samma gång. Jag älskar henne så att hjärtat nästan går sönder. Men det finns ingen som gjort mig så illa som hon. Hon spottar och trampar på mig och ändå älskar jag henne.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Show Me Love</span> (the film's international title) s one of those films that wants to be about an awful lot, but ultimately covers very little in any real depth. The focus of the film is two girls - Elin and Agnes - who fall in and out of love with each other in the nondescript town of Åmål, a town where where nothing interesting happens, that is so far from the major cities that by the time a rend [like rave culture] reaches it it has already become unfashionable. From this frustration that these two girls feel towards their surroundings the film moves through passages on conformity, confusion and escapism before finally circling in on itself finishing on love. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img208.imageshack.us/img208/2490/vlcsnap57887nz3.png "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img208.imageshack.us/img208/2490/vlcsnap57887nz3.png " border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The one standout feature of the film is the acting - both <span style="font-weight:bold;">Alexandra Dahlström</span> and <span style="font-weight:bold;">Rebecka Liljeberg</span> give incredible performances in the lead roles. Watching the film you never get the sense you are watching actors reading lines; they deliver the dialogue with such conviction and often, emotional intensity, that the line between fiction and reality often seems thin. However, that's where it ends really in terms of what is superb about the film - the problems are numerous, starting with the narrative's attempts at realism. Incredible performances are just one ingredient in making the story believable, so it is a pity that the look of the film (so in-your-face i couldn't <span style="font-style:italic;">not</span> write about it) is - for lack of a better adjective - horrible. The film itelf is a grainy Super 16 stock that, i assume, was cheap but does neither the plot or the work of the crew any favours. In an age where HD and Blu Ray are delivering the most detailed pictures yet seen on a tv set i'm not wholly adverse to films shot on 16mm or even 8mm, but if a director is going to shoot in such a medium he should be well aware of its advantages and limitations first. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img208.imageshack.us/img208/2779/vlcsnap59596it5.png "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img208.imageshack.us/img208/2779/vlcsnap59596it5.png " border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Jacque Tati's <span style="font-style:italic;">Play Time</span> for instance, was shot on 75mm, thus the whole film has in its staging and set design, and extraordinary sense of depth and magnitude; in Derek Jarman's 16mm films, particularly <span style="font-style:italic;">Sebastiane</span> the use of light is often exemplary. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Lucas Moodysson</span>, with cinematographer <span style="font-weight:bold;">Ulf Brantås</span> has not, in my opinion, used the medium to anywhere near its fullest. The way 16mm stock reacts to light is significantly different to 35mmm, but <span style="font-style:italic;">Show Me Love</span> is lit and largely shot as if 35mm stock was being used, Jarman made great use of natural light in both <span style="font-style:italic;">Sebastiane</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">Jubilee</span> whereas Moodysson uses an almost entirely artifical lighting scheme. In itself this isn't a problem but i found the way the possibilities of what 16mm can offer are overlooked frustrating in the extreme. Filters are used an awful lot in the film to give it that recognisable look, but it's hardly the best use of filters i've ever seen - Kieslowski's <span style="font-style:italic;">The Double Life Of Véronique</span> would be one of my picks for that particular title. So all-in-all, the sublime acting is lit poorly through filters that don't always appear to have a narrative function, and shot on a shaky handheld camera using grainy stock that does nobody any favours whatsoever. I don't even want to go into the annoying way that the camera constantly zooms into and out of the frame without rhyme or reason. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img84.imageshack.us/img84/1564/vlcsnap66808mc4.png "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img84.imageshack.us/img84/1564/vlcsnap66808mc4.png " border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />If the look of the film is bad however, it's nothing compared to the disapointment at the treatment of the film's central themes. A user on IMDB said in a conversation we were having about this film, <span style="font-style:italic;">"I think maybe you have to be Swedish to fully appreciate the biting realism in setting, dialogue and characters in the film."</span>. A fair point indeed but shouldn't a film for a wider international audience be more accessible than that? A teenager from Sweden, particularly a teenage girl, would instantly be able to associate with the characters but for the rest of us there's little hope in the film i fear. Personally, i put this down to thin character writing and a plot that, in the end, simply goes through the standard confused-teen cinematic clichés of sexuality and intoxication. I say "thin character writing" because we really know <span style="font-style:italic;">nothing</span> about the two girl aside from them being Swedish, and one of them having a family. There are scenes in which it is suggested that both girls have problems comunicating to their families, either becuase of the generation gap or because of some other underlying problem bt with such a lack of clarity one had to assume this is either wonderfully ambiguous, or simply very poor. The film does, towards the end, try to draw some parallels between the escapsim offered by drugs and alcohol and the escapism offered by intimacy - or perhaps love. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img208.imageshack.us/img208/9894/vlcsnap68376bz1.png "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img208.imageshack.us/img208/9894/vlcsnap68376bz1.png " border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The comparison could have made for a very interesting film indeed but any attempt at linking the two is only half-hearted at best, and at worst tragic. There is one scene in particular that stands out for being so unbelievably rediculous where one of the girls is trying to commit suicide only to be interrupted by the girl she's in love with. Having been interrupted her mood changes completely; suddenly she's happy and joyous - and somehow a cloth wrapped around her wrist stops the bleeding? Even in the film's conclusion, when love appears to have been found one can't help but question it. The girls clearly aren't comfortable with each other, or indeed anyone else and as the credits start one woders if their whole relationship is just an attempt to grab some attention. This attention-seeking take on the film would certainly fit with the suicide attempt, the reputation one girl has for being a slut, the drinking and aaccompanying exhibitionism and the constant showing-off in front of peers that fills the film. Perhaps, ultimately this film is saying <span style="font-style:italic;">!Show Me Love!"</span> but realises that in the fickle world of adolescence that love, in the adult sense of the word is simply not possible - in which case it's measurably more cyncical than i initially gave it credit for; and is probably a little harsher on its subjects than even i think it should be.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img84.imageshack.us/img84/926/vlcsnap69763kq7.png "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img84.imageshack.us/img84/926/vlcsnap69763kq7.png " border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Cynically nihilistic with a shallow romantic facade, this film that plays out like an elongated soap opera episode does have some bite hidden amongst the cliches though in the end I really can't say that i care that much about anything it has to say (or thinks it has to say). <span style="font-weight:bold;">6/10</span><br /><br />PS<br /><br />A quick look on youtube produced this trailer:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5jVSvV8bgoY"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5jVSvV8bgoY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-65628478244465340492007-03-27T11:55:00.000+01:002007-03-27T13:06:15.423+01:00Sorstalanság (2005) - Lajos Koltai<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/fateless_poster_large.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/fateless_poster_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Fateless</span>, the directoral debut from Hungarian cinematographer <span style="font-weight:bold;">Lajos Koltai</span> stars <span style="font-weight:bold;">Marcell Nagy</span> as György, a Jewish teenager from Budapest who bares witness to the full horrors of the holocaust, first hand. Initially shielded from the truth by his family (who likely aren't fully aware of what's going on themselves) when his father is sent away to a labour camp, György soon follows along with other Jewish children (all of whom have passes). He is first sent to Auschwitz where he survives merely by lieing about his age; from there he is sent on to several labour camps including Buchenwald where his spirit is broken as he finds himself alienated by Yiddish-speaking Jews and Gypsies. His soul is broken, body shattered and yet with the liberation of the camps (featuring an appearance by <span style="font-weight:bold;">Daniel Craig</span> as an American GI) the boy, who has long-since grown into a man, manages not only to find hope in the future but a wistful longing for the time when he was in the camps.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/small_fateless5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/small_fateless5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Technically-speaking the film is a highly impressive piece of visual art - the outstanding use of filters that give the film a dated, sepia-like tone echoing the narrative's pervading sense of melancholy is rarely less than sublime. Likewise the way the visuals drift, as day does into night, into haunting monochrome bringing to the scenes an acute sense of the camps' harshness is as superb as Koltai's control of the camera's movement and framing of his shots. And the performances of the cast are equally incredible - from the young lead through to the camp guards and those fellow victims who suffer alongside the protagonist; it's a very finely crafted piece of film all round - except that is, for the editing. At 140 minutes the film's narrative is comprehensive, but let down considerably in the middle hour by languid editing that fades one scene into another seemingly bereft of context. This results in between 40 and 60 minutes of what i can only describe as "camp vignettes", individual scenes that although revealing in their own individualistic way, do not flow together in any coherent sense instead drawing out a slow-moving plot far longer than is strictly necessary. It's not a film one should find boring - the journey is as incredible as the lessons learned, but this slow mid-section unhelpfully veered from patience-testing to sheer boredom (to the point that i almost fell asleep). Survive this lengthy, slow section that lacks dialogue but remains nonetheless poignant, and you arrive at the film's conclusions in the final reel, which are not, in any way shape or form, expected or particularly easy to take.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/small_fateless6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/small_fateless6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The film's title, <span style="font-style:italic;">Fateless</span> embodies the key theme of the film, a theme that in one way or another runs through every single scene and line of dialogue - the "Jewish fate". Early in the film the young protagonist is told by his elders that the Jews are fated to suffer for their past sins - that a history of persecution is a form of divine penitence, and that only God can every forgive the Jews on the day of judgement once they have atoned for previous wrongs. Accepting this, the majority of the film - which takes place in concentration camps - would seem to be Jews simply accepting their fate. Of course this isn't the case though, indeed it's a dichotomy that the film doesn't really seem to adress, and when it does try to debate the issue it does so in a rather cack-handed manner. The film starts by showing Hungarian Jews resigned to being persecuted as if it is something they should expect, merely by matter of cultural heritage, but no one ever says in the film anything to the effect that the camps are necessary, or something that should simply be "taken on the chin" because of the Jewish fate. Likewse, it is one thing to say that the Jewish race is united by this fate, but what about when Jewish communities become fragmented, either forcibly by external factors or simply by internal politics? <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/small_fateless2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/small_fateless2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />For instance the Yiddish-speaking Jews in one of the camps ostrasise the young Hungarian boy as an outsider; they're all suffering the same tortures at the hands of the camp officers, they all have to stand in the square until they collapse but they point blankly refuse to get on with the boy from Budapest. This of course, is just one instance in the film but there are more - the Gendarmes who turn them over to the Nazis in the first place, and the guy who tries to take all their jewelry on the train. In living out this shared fate, the Jews of the film, far from unifying under the weight of oppression of revolting against it, find themselves accepting imprisonment then turning against their fellow prisoners for what - to outsiders - would seem the pettiest of reasons. My concern is not that there weren't internal conflicts in camp populations (i'm sure there were), merely that this film shows us these arguments but never says <span style="font-style:italic;">why</span> - no reason is given for these people turning against each other and nor, perhaps more cruelly, is any context given to the prisoners who take command of the others, which the film presents as some form of capitualtion with the SS. The detailing of real events, and life in the camps is impressive and should be commended, but it is the handling of these themes of guilt, and dealing with persecution that should be criticised i feel.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/small_fateless4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/small_fateless4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />In saying [above] that the conclusions of the film <span style="font-style:italic;">"are not... particularly easy to take"</span> I am referring to the central character's fond memories of the camps in which he suffered for so long. How can someone whose body was shattered, whose soul was close to destruction amidst the inhuman conditions inflicted upon him by an invading force, possibly have fond, positive memories of the concetration camps? To be honset, to say the boy misses the camps isn't true; what he misses is the sense of community with those who he developed friendships with. They suffered innumerable wrongs in those horrific places, but the boy choses to remember the friends he made and the spirit of comraderies that developed as they toiled together through the troubles. As much as i have said about the community being torn apart, the protagonist does not look at it like this at all, chosing [unconsciously i think] to overlook the horrors he witnessed and latch onto the few positive memories he has left. To me this seems a clear parallel to the Jewish fate the film explores - the Jewish community, in the eys of the boy, chose to remember the negatives of thier past that have become so entrenched in culture and tradition rather than celebrating the positive things the Jewish people have accomplished and experienced. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/fateless9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/fateless9.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Of course this is an entirely reasonable suggestion, and one worthy of discussion and debate, but again its the context within the film that i take umbrage with. Ultimately, the film presents the boy's opinion as the be-all and end-all of it. It seems to be saying "stop being so down; look on the bright side" but completely overlooks the fact that the boy spent very little time whatsoever in Aushwitz (or any extermination camp for that matter) to the point that when asked, he can't say he saw the chimneys fom the gas chambers. One of the boy's close friends is killed at Aushwitz, and his father never returns from the camp he was sent to, so perhaps the boy is experiencing some form of denial - the mental scarring that being thown ont a pile of dead bodies must do to a person is unimaginable - but the film never suggests this is the case. The problem, i guess, is that i felt the film told me how I <span style="font-style:italic;">should</span> think, whilst negating relevant details like the boy being young (and thus still impressionable and what he did and didn't actually see. Suggesting the stance is brilliant, but without any opposing view i was left with a slightly bitter taste in the mouth.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/small_fateless1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.fateless.co.uk/images/small_fateless1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />All round <span style="font-style:italic;">Fateless</span> is a brilliantly constructed and performed film that raises many important issues, though restricted by the limitations of the autobiographical [Nobel prize-winning] source text and never really exploring the issues as fully as perhaps possible, it is nevertheless essential viewing. A film that leads on from the final scene of Fateless would be very interesting indeed in this viewer's opinion. <span style="font-weight:bold;">7/10</span>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-23173817905943047072007-03-16T22:44:00.000+00:002007-03-16T23:38:41.568+00:00Ta'm e guilass (1997) - Abbas Kiarostami<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDCompare11/a%20Abbas%20Kiarostami%20Taste%20of%20Cherry%20DVD%20Review/AE_001149.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDCompare11/a%20Abbas%20Kiarostami%20Taste%20of%20Cherry%20DVD%20Review/AE_001149.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The Palme D'or-winning <span style="font-style:italic;">Taste Of Cherry</span>, from acclaimed Iranian director <span style="font-weight:bold;">Abbas Kiarostami</span>, stars <span style="font-weight:bold;">Homayon Ershadi</span> as a man on a mission. Our protagonist, Mr Badii, spends practically the entire film in his Land Rover, driving back and forth from a spot up on the mountainside surrounding Teheran - atthis spot is a tree, and next to it the hole he has dug into whcih he is going to fall asleep. All he wants is for someone to come to the hole the next morning to call his name three times, if he does not answer then that person is to fill in the hole with earth. Kiarostami's film is not concerned with <span style="font-style:italic;">why</span> he is going to commit suicide, nor is it particularly concerned with whether he can actually go through with it - what this film spends 95 minutes exploring is the debate as to whether he <span style="font-style:italic;">should</span> or not. Slowly, but surely, in this jeep between this Iranian and his passengers, a subtle lust for life emerges - the yearning to taste cherries once again. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDCompare11/a%20Abbas%20Kiarostami%20Taste%20of%20Cherry%20DVD%20Review/AE_003143.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDCompare11/a%20Abbas%20Kiarostami%20Taste%20of%20Cherry%20DVD%20Review/AE_003143.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Taste of Cherry</span> is first and foremost a wonderful piece of writing - a fantastic character study, combined with a sublime lead performance from a relatively unknown actor who carries off the most lengthy of monologues with ease. In asking these strangers to do this job for him, we learn not only of Mr Badii's depression, but also of the state of the country around him. A country in which labourers, as important as they are rarely receieve the wages that perhaps they should. It's an economic injustice that Mr Badii uses to entice these people into doing this task. Though it has to be said that in the end only one person actualy accepts the job - a soldier freaks out and runs off down the mountain whereas a seminary simply declines upon being given the full picture of what is to be expected of him. It is no mistake then, that the one person who accepts should be a Taxidermist, a man who makes a living from stuffing dead animals now being asked to bury someone who is going to have killed himself. The in-car debate with the seminary yields some interesting moral and religious aspects to the suicide debate, although this is restricted by the shortcomings of the seminary's strict dogma, and his unwavering belief in that philosophy - dogmatic philosophy that does not afflict the opinion of the taxidermist. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDCompare11/a%20Abbas%20Kiarostami%20Taste%20of%20Cherry%20DVD%20Review/AE_011551.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDCompare11/a%20Abbas%20Kiarostami%20Taste%20of%20Cherry%20DVD%20Review/AE_011551.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The Taxidermist is the most resonant of the characters, lingering long in the memory after the film has finished with his joke about a Turk going to the doctors (<span style="font-style:italic;">"Your body's fine but your finger's broken"</span>) and his genuine attempts to listen to this strange man contemplating suicide, engaging him on a personal, uniquely humanist level revealing that he himself once contemplated the same act years before. There is a degree of sentimentality in his <span style="font-style:italic;">"taste of cherry"</span> comment, enough at least that i was reminded of Capra's <span style="font-style:italic;">It's A Wonderful Life</span> (although i really can't understate the connection enough), but it's a genuine, loving affection for existence rather than faux sentiment that veers into horrible cliché. The film's final third, it's heart and soul, is [thankfully] gratifyingly warm - more than making up for it's morbid concept.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDCompare11/a%20Abbas%20Kiarostami%20Taste%20of%20Cherry%20DVD%20Review/AE_010555.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDCompare11/a%20Abbas%20Kiarostami%20Taste%20of%20Cherry%20DVD%20Review/AE_010555.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />This heart and soul would however, amount to little if it were not for Kiarostami's impeccable visual style and sense of pacing. The slow, brooding, methodical pace of the narrative seeks only to confirm and enhance the natural feel of the movie whilst its impressive visuals not only supply aesthetic delights of their own, but also elucidate the story's emotional complexity. The emotional glaciation of Mr Badii, his distance from the world around him, even from his family who he has chosen to leave behind, is made all the more clear through the use of telephoto long shots, wide-angled close-ups and the vast expanse of the Iranian terrain. The size of the country dwarfs his Land Rover, just as whatever force is pushing him into this act is making Mr Badii feel so inferior to those around him that he cannot carry on. This 'empty' visual style owes a lot to the likes of Theo Angelopoulos and Michelangelo Antonioni (both of whom have become reknowned for thier depiction of alienation and distance onscreen), at least as much as the film's seeming coldness towards the people within it does. The closest film to this visually, that i can recall from recent years is the Turkish film <span style="font-style:italic;">Uzak</span> from director/photographer <span style="font-weight:bold;">Nuri Bilge Ceylan </span> who must have either seen this film, or another Kiarostami work such is the similarity in some scenes between the two.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDCompare11/a%20Abbas%20Kiarostami%20Taste%20of%20Cherry%20DVD%20Review/AE_012058.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDCompare11/a%20Abbas%20Kiarostami%20Taste%20of%20Cherry%20DVD%20Review/AE_012058.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I do have one reservation though, or if not a reservation then certainly it is something that has left me perplexed to say the least, and that's the end of the film. I can't say what happens, as that would spoil it for those who havent seen the film, but i can say something as to my own thoughts on how the film reaches a conclusion (if that's what it can be called?). I had to do a little looking around to check if there was any reaon for the chosen ending remaining in the film - and it turns out that there was a problem at the lab where the film was being developed, so at the very least there is a practical reason for its applicatio. But Kiarostami doesn't strike me as the sort of artist who, facing the problem of not having the ending he intially wanted to the film, would just settle in the cutting room for something superfluous to narrative requirements. So what is the purpose? The first name that came to my mind was <span style="font-weight:bold;">Michael Haneke</span> (specifically his soon to be remade <span style="font-style:italic;">Funny Games</span>), a director whose treatment of the limitiations of cinema (and the artificiality of its construction) form part of his distinct yet unique style; another that i've seen in discussion is <span style="font-weight:bold;">Alejandro Jodorowsky</span> (specifically in relation to <span style="font-style:italic;">The Holy Mountain</span>). <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDCompare11/a%20Abbas%20Kiarostami%20Taste%20of%20Cherry%20DVD%20Review/AE_012833.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDCompare11/a%20Abbas%20Kiarostami%20Taste%20of%20Cherry%20DVD%20Review/AE_012833.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Both of these names seem to be close to, and a million miles away from what Abbas is doing. He is drawing attention to the artifice inherent within the medium of film, but it is not a ploy or trick - indeed it's a futherance, or natural continuation of the plot and focus of the film i.e. emotional isolation. Perhaps only through reminding the audience that we are just watchinga movie, can the audience every hope to appreciate just how distanced the protagonist feels from the world around him. By forcibly tearing his audience from the fiction of the narrative, Kiarostami has shown at once bravery (in having the cojones to finsh a film like that) and incredible luciduty of vision in letting the emotional subtext of the movie (and often alck of it) supercede the story itself in the un(?)dramatic denouement.<br /><br />An unforgettable film, that we are probably not meant to love - rather one for reflection, pondering and endless discussion. 8/10Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-60169680821414353912007-03-13T22:46:00.000+00:002007-03-13T22:48:31.579+00:00I will be posting even less frequentlyI dont post very often here as it is, but with a new woman in my life who doesn't [yet] share my cinephilia I will have even less time to write about what i'm watching.<br /><br />So if i dont post for a long time, it's not cos something bad has happened to me.Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com66tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-4673338972557164302007-03-07T10:56:00.000+00:002008-12-14T08:17:16.622+00:00Les Biches (1968) - Claude Chabrol<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9GKlagjAStfk2vlqXam27n-wJbopTS__jzG5Jmq6klcXzogIbU3qNxdNu-QUeE9EQ5qXYtLmMrGHY8dKo85ZFF_va2vP4-yvKNuaUOAkg42KmgRiZDNrMlKtqeA_08BQHMWf7_ttf2LM/s1600-h/bridge.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9GKlagjAStfk2vlqXam27n-wJbopTS__jzG5Jmq6klcXzogIbU3qNxdNu-QUeE9EQ5qXYtLmMrGHY8dKo85ZFF_va2vP4-yvKNuaUOAkg42KmgRiZDNrMlKtqeA_08BQHMWf7_ttf2LM/s320/bridge.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039138058216861778" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Chabrol's <span style="font-style: italic;">The Does</span> follows the story of two women and the man who comes between them. Frédérique (Chabrol regular, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Stéphane Audran</span>) is a well-to-do Parisian who one day comes across this actractive woman drawing deer on the pavement (Jacqueline Sassard), a woman who only gives the name Why when questioned. The two quickly start up a relationship, barely days later moving into Frédérique's St Tropez home where her two acquaintances, Fernand Robèque and Jacques Riais, have alread settled into their comfortable riviera lifestyle. The relationship is complicated when firstly, Why falls in love with an attractive poker player (Paul Thomas played by <span style="font-weight:bold;">Jean-Louis Trintignant</span>) who she meets at a party, then furthermore when Frédérique steals him away to Paris for a few days. The film's dramatic focus in the final reel is on Why, her jealousy, hatred, sense of betrayal and the vengeance she decides to enact.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5EViitquwhxe94NexTfX9UFfl2-h1OzW4KPsboQdeLKU34uvuUzv8SsF05_63FUkdGT182s2IbmDaTODPpfM-4yIew1Ic0ancZg4jcSNY00YAfw00A9T3Tw52-DOZrBu0SZ2zxzMp6WA/s1600-h/music.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5EViitquwhxe94NexTfX9UFfl2-h1OzW4KPsboQdeLKU34uvuUzv8SsF05_63FUkdGT182s2IbmDaTODPpfM-4yIew1Ic0ancZg4jcSNY00YAfw00A9T3Tw52-DOZrBu0SZ2zxzMp6WA/s320/music.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039139308052344930" /></a><br /><br />It becomes abundantly clear aearly on in the film that Chabrol is a master of creating his characters in 3 dimensions. Everything from the clothes they wear to the rooms the inhabit tells us aout who they are, not to mention the specific maneurisms and body language key to each charcter's unique personality. The comic relief for instance, Fernand and Jacques, are effeminate, garishly dressed with a ribald sense of humour to match. When they are sent to follow Why after the party they do so in the most unsubtle manner possible, with some funny results. Converesely Why heself is a creature of ice coolness. Her clothes are neat, usually drkly coloured, her hair rarely out of place and her makeup always impeccable. There's always a sense that there's something beneath her icy curface more sinister, darker, but we never know what that is exactly as it becomes evermore masked by the chic gallic sensuality she exudes from every pore - similar in many ways to that of an Emmanuelle Béart character - only without the apparent innocence of Béart. The same goes for Frédérique, who's smartly expensive designer clothes perpetuate her higher social status than those around her, the hunting trophies on the walls of her St Tropez home reflecting her predatory nature. A young femme fatale and a sexual predator, with a rather charming middle class businessman caught in the middle.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiTC6hZhj5rbQ-4Vf7c17roc1QV7aFRJq30FPLgF0wb13FHwTS7S-YE98Bzx03jg_7cbxsCILpKPKF33LqZCDHO3uy5pol9D7qeatOwyPnFj3zsWyrFfACnyRRs-0BHXzdCql21tRt_gw/s1600-h/quay.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiTC6hZhj5rbQ-4Vf7c17roc1QV7aFRJq30FPLgF0wb13FHwTS7S-YE98Bzx03jg_7cbxsCILpKPKF33LqZCDHO3uy5pol9D7qeatOwyPnFj3zsWyrFfACnyRRs-0BHXzdCql21tRt_gw/s320/quay.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039142404723765362" /></a><br /><br />The characters, richly drawn as they are, are not quite so simple though - nor are the relationships that bind them. Frédérique and Why get very close surprisingly quickly, almost unnaturally so after their first encounter on the streets of Paris; similarly the way Why becomes attached to Paul seems almost too quick for her persona. It is this "unnaturalness" in the development of the relationships that, i think, reveals some of what is going on below the surface. You have to wonder <span style="font-style:italic;">pourquoi</span> is this happening quite the way it does; what is motivating these people to coalesce. At first it would seem the two women are connected on a purely lustful basis, that being liberal 1960s women they want to explore each other's bodies as much as their souls. The seduction of Why would certainlys eem to be a sexual liason, if not physically enacted then at least in the atmosphere of their early scenes. But taking Why back to her home outside of Paris suggests a maternal element in the couple, an element that becomes more exagerrated in the matriarchical structure of the living arrangements in St Tropez. Once there it is clear Frédérique rules the roost, she commands the men she plays poker with when it is time to settle up and the two men who live with her are always unashamedly subservient to her, although it's never made clear exactly why they live with her. My assumption is that they are with her for the money, and that Why is there almost for the same reason. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBaRfzjoQLRThwPLl1jmamz4ggy0KVb_0JzBzuweuD9Fpw8kJ9dkyp9mj3IGSjXV0r3qngw1BgIGpN9gvDhsA8nEik3Eb4vYUVK9EOukPcjOVUJYAuULpaAQjFNl3EeNu0jBl2y6Ai0Eg/s1600-h/wine.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBaRfzjoQLRThwPLl1jmamz4ggy0KVb_0JzBzuweuD9Fpw8kJ9dkyp9mj3IGSjXV0r3qngw1BgIGpN9gvDhsA8nEik3Eb4vYUVK9EOukPcjOVUJYAuULpaAQjFNl3EeNu0jBl2y6Ai0Eg/s320/wine.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039152377637826722" /></a><br /><br />Why never mentions a family, so there is certainly reciprocation of the maternal element on her part, but also it has to be remembered that she was selling drawings on the streets for money. She was clearly never comfortable economically, perhaps this new relationship offers financial as well as emotional reward? Given this proposition, some of what Why says takes ona slightly different meaning: when she says she is a virgin this, at first, seems like an emotional opening, a brutal honesty to demonstrate commitment - however now this could be the start of a honeytrap; it gives Frédérique a position of sexual authority through which she can exert control over the seemingly impressionable Why, which is probably playing right into Why's hands. Why's calculating manner becomes further apparent during the poker game, during which she uses her body language and raw sensuality to make Paul seduce her. Paul, of course, will believe it was him who made the first move but suring the scene it is Why who makes a point of grabbing his attention, and focuses all of her energies on him for the whole night. This suggestion of coldness, of cynical calculation could be overlooked if it weren't for the film's climax in which Why becomes a creature of pure cold calculation, that uses her charms to get her way in a manner until then one wouldn't have thought possible (or if thought possible, then thought would have been quickly dismissed).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrza-G31YeZBTS4laR_qlVnlMoT6NdUtX_LP7qLK2TV0a6IVECopTCLUbN-EZlzRy3loZVMUTO1PGbOUwj5FLaJ3AwnkcQ_x-smzJ4scpoBxkpud9Xp93KjU8U2v7mWjOCUzvIALf8Bs/s1600-h/poker.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrza-G31YeZBTS4laR_qlVnlMoT6NdUtX_LP7qLK2TV0a6IVECopTCLUbN-EZlzRy3loZVMUTO1PGbOUwj5FLaJ3AwnkcQ_x-smzJ4scpoBxkpud9Xp93KjU8U2v7mWjOCUzvIALf8Bs/s320/poker.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039147833562427522" /></a><br /><br />This writing of characters and relationships would be the film's highlight, if it weren't for Chabrol's wonderful visual style, placing his characters in scenes and filming them in such as way as to make each shot seem at once perfectly natural, and the conception of a great artist. His tracking shots give the scenes fluidity whilst reminaing impressive on thier own technical merits, whilst the us of focus both shallow and occasionally - deep - allows him to let shots linger than other more impatient dirctors would be inclined. With Jean Rabier's expert cinematography, utilising the St Tropez light to its fullest, Chabrol is able to place his engaging drama amonst a series of splendid tabeau compositions, each wonderful in their own right and moreso when they flow together so eloquently. In <span style="font-style:italic;">Le Mépris</span> <span style="font-weight:bold;">Fritz Lang</span> says of Cinemascope, <span style="font-style:italic;">"Oh, it wasn't meant for human beings. Just for snakes... and funerals."</span>, a sentiment echoed in Chabrol style here. He doesn't shoot either snakes or funerals, but what he does do, to maximise the use of the widescreen frame, is have his characters sleeping or reclining through an awful lot of the film. Be it on a bed, a chez longue or simply on some grass he [Chabrol] does not let an inch of visible space go to waste in producing a gripping humanist drama that works on many levels of impact.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBbZ439LqEMUExpO_zVimlFbJthjnwKBEAs15Nv22K0gZvLMioBTjHhyphenhyphenksnq8h8B99xlpb2UkoXPsbKenWkzjxTb1YL9KsSkm3ObA8FufRD92470Yi1qmIc3tgQp8VwMIQnUU2jQYCjaU/s1600-h/boat.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBbZ439LqEMUExpO_zVimlFbJthjnwKBEAs15Nv22K0gZvLMioBTjHhyphenhyphenksnq8h8B99xlpb2UkoXPsbKenWkzjxTb1YL9KsSkm3ObA8FufRD92470Yi1qmIc3tgQp8VwMIQnUU2jQYCjaU/s320/boat.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039150633881104530" /></a><br /><br />I'm not saying <span style="font-style:italic;">The Does</span> is Chabrol's finest work to date - some of the dialogue for instance is more than slightly clumsy, <span style="font-style:italic;">"I'm going to make unbridled love to you"</span> cutting througha romantic scene like a knife at one stage; what i am however saying is that it's a deceptively complex, well crafted piece of cinema that undoubtedly warrants further analysis and critique. One not jst for the Chabrol completists, but for any film-viewer no matter what their tastes. 7/10Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-20913692660135454382007-03-05T12:20:00.000+00:002008-12-14T08:17:17.629+00:00Jubilee (1977) - Derek Jarman<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images-eu.amazon.com/images/P/B00005JI0Q.02.LZZZZZZZ.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://images-eu.amazon.com/images/P/B00005JI0Q.02.LZZZZZZZ.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Jubilee</span> was only Jarman's second feature length release, having already made a cult name for himself in the London community through short 8mm films. Already, off the success of <span style="font-style:italic;">Sebastiane</span>, Jarman is carving out his uniquely british vision of society, culture and punk rhetoric. A far more linear story than <span style="font-style:italic;">The Last Of England</span>, but similar in many visual and thematic ways, Jubilee follows Queen Elizabeth I on a voyage of discovery. The Queen, accompanied by John Dee, calls upon an angel (played by <span style="font-weight:bold;">Adam Ant</span>) to provide her with knowledge. This knowledge he provides her by way of a vision of England's future - a future unmistakebly 1970s, although it bares uncanny resemblances to Kubrick's <span style="font-style:italic;">Clockwork Orange</span> dystopia.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img89.imageshack.us/img89/5861/jubileeelizabethsp3.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://img89.imageshack.us/img89/5861/jubileeelizabethsp3.png" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />In this future we see a group of punk artistes, visionaries or misguided souls - that is for the audience to make up their minds, but undeniably extraordinary. We watch Amyl Nitrate, Chaos, Crabs, Sphinx et al as they record music, discuss life and politics, and generally cause chaos. They live in what would generally be considered at best a squat, at worst squalor. There's an awful lot of bravado and pride on show in their actions and speeches but this isn't reflected in their derelict, cramped and messy environment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0sstMHNzYyhnCPYYgQrPZZENbnpMRt0MG62HmLL6mkPscimYeH_03Y1s4VjhPxX1EJROmhsyK5YDRVRi_b1v4dWT3HaUv4HwofRVzjJGPpqUuqzvk9PxfIMzGdfALOQ2IH0tepe2_w4/s1600-h/Jubilee-room.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0sstMHNzYyhnCPYYgQrPZZENbnpMRt0MG62HmLL6mkPscimYeH_03Y1s4VjhPxX1EJROmhsyK5YDRVRi_b1v4dWT3HaUv4HwofRVzjJGPpqUuqzvk9PxfIMzGdfALOQ2IH0tepe2_w4/s320/Jubilee-room.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038418885951146146" /></a><br /><br />It's to this clash of ideas and reality that the film turns, or at least - seems to suggest is present. We watch our protaonists, apparently happy in thier lives (or if not hapy then at least content) but there's always the pervading sense of something being array. As the film progresses it becomes clear this is not a celebration as the title may suggest, but some sort of mouring of society or perhaps a paen to the classical times of Elizabeth when things were 'better'. Via some interesting distractions, such as a Eurovision entry featuring <span style="font-style:italic;">Rule Brittania</span> mixed with divebombing and Hitler rhetoric, the film introduces an eccentric record exectuive-come-monopolist, Cardinal Borgia Ginz - played by <span style="font-weight:bold;">Jack Birkett</span> at his very best indeed. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNGObX2StXu0HeZM6jx-FnNRVlEyQXjspadHvTi_tIOBv55Waz36G2jYApDPC5u1HL9mUfD8iek4nA0wvhyphenhyphenFsbDyWi-ps4Etcty0bqR_SxaXRdqxmZaDnwZuLHFuw8U39qeRtnu_bSAdw/s1600-h/Jubilee-borgia.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNGObX2StXu0HeZM6jx-FnNRVlEyQXjspadHvTi_tIOBv55Waz36G2jYApDPC5u1HL9mUfD8iek4nA0wvhyphenhyphenFsbDyWi-ps4Etcty0bqR_SxaXRdqxmZaDnwZuLHFuw8U39qeRtnu_bSAdw/s320/Jubilee-borgia.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038421986917533874" /></a><br /><br />Ginz represents the key to the film. He gets the lionshare of the best lines that reveal amidst this punk dystopia he is making a fortune. He has bought everything he can in order to preserve and widen his power, he is in effect - exploiting the anarchic youth that he embraces with one hand and shuns with the other. It's him who runs the Eurovision contest, he runs the media which has a vice-like hold over the attention of the protagonists and he in a very Orwellian sense, is the protagonists' Big Brother. Whether anything should be read into the campness with which he is portrayed i am unsure, however what he stands for is unmistakeably important to the narrative thrust of Jarman's film. These young punks believe they are changing the world, they believe they have power and an ultimate sense of freedom following the abolition of law and order that is mentioned in the movie, but they dont. After all the strife, after the chaos that has ensued in persual of total freedom for the citizen, everyone is ultimately the capitalist's slave - and not just any capitalist but a media mogul. His infectious power, his midas touch sucks the vulnerable, weak and dissasociated into his grasp where he can use them as he likes. The ultra-cynical subtext is palpable, especially when the pseudo-philosophical ramblinsg of the punks get to their most rambling verbose sections. Jarman is not praising the punk movement; he is highlighting the irony in the punk reliance on mas media. He is detailing, quite cleverly i may add, how those who controlled the direction of the movement (as he saw it) were little removed from those punk sought to attack and ridicule. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-YqxZhO-UZL4PnJ8Kdgt0gr9kdBeFR96-bTtDq_cGfFSADNrDTRtAeve6w8e9DLjXmj2-LvN8KTgj-SJXuP0Y71ITz-rXbNJb6OrhAMaJfzzY1B5joDwdELMIG7nz2JMrKopry1k3Xg/s1600-h/Jubilee-fight.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-YqxZhO-UZL4PnJ8Kdgt0gr9kdBeFR96-bTtDq_cGfFSADNrDTRtAeve6w8e9DLjXmj2-LvN8KTgj-SJXuP0Y71ITz-rXbNJb6OrhAMaJfzzY1B5joDwdELMIG7nz2JMrKopry1k3Xg/s320/Jubilee-fight.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038424808711047362" /></a><br /><br />The film finishes by nicely, and again - ironically, circling in on itself. Happiness is swept away with hope to be replaced by despair, all at the doing of the punks who are only acting out of what they feel is justice. Self destruction reigns supreme and, although the monologues may be pretentious tosh at times and the actinga bit wooden, the film does have enough merits to make for worthy viewing. From a nostalgic perspective it's interesting to see the likes of Toya Wilcox when she was still punk's darling, along with Adam Ant doing his best to ape David Bowie but the main source of intrigue and debate in this work is what it's saying about the era that spawned it. It's a far cry from the homoeroticism of Sebastiane, focusing on female empowerment and violent feminism for the mospart as the 2 gay characters are resigned to the periphery, that allows Jarman to focus on the social implications of the plot to a far greater degree - expanding on narrative themes far more competently than in any of his previous work. <br /><br />Not Jarman's best film by any stretch, but one worth a look for anyone interested in British sociopolitical history. 7/10Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-51910427255926214872007-02-23T13:06:00.000+00:002007-02-27T15:34:00.373+00:00Meres Tou 36 (1972) - Theo Angelopoulos<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.bergen-filmklubb.no/images/Dager_fra_36_stort.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.bergen-filmklubb.no/images/Dager_fra_36_stort.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Theo Angelopoulos is widely regarded as one of Greece's greatest cinematic exports, ever the darling of film critics and the festival circuit he has directed a great many classics of European cinema although this has not made him the most widely-seen of filmmakers. One reason is that he personally feels film is for cinema, that films should be seen on the big screen or not at all so the dvd releases of his best films have been hampered initially by his unwillingness to embrace the medium, then simply the matter of getting hold of good quality prints that can be restored and transfered to disc. So far New Star DVD, a Greek company, have released several of his films including <span style="font-style:italic;">The Travelling Players</span> (a copy of which i own) which is now out of print, and some of his better known films like <span style="font-style:italic;">Landscape In The Mist</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">Ulysses' Gaze</span>; their most recent release - and it should be mentioned here that Angelopoulos personally oversees all transfers of his films at New Star - is his acclaimed political drama-come-satire: <span style="font-style:italic;">Days Of 36</span>. <br /><br />In 1973,a year after the film was released, Ulrich Gregor interviewed the director for the <span style="font-style:italic;">International Forum des Junges Films, Berlin</span> - an interview which has since been translated to English by Dan Fainaru. Although the interview deals largely with factual elements of the film such as the characters portrayed ("<span style="font-style:italic;">No doubt about [the audience recognising] Metexas"</span>)and their relation to 1970s Greek politics (<span style="font-style:italic;">"a time when the actions of the workers' parties were beginning to become effective"</span>), Angelopoulos is particularly enlightening on the production and release of the film. He reveals the film was funded by a husband of a student of one of Theo's filmschool friends (a tenuous link i know) and that the script, daring as it was, was actually slipped past the Greek censors of the time adding the proviso, <span style="font-style:italic;">"to tell you the truth though, thee is quite a bit of difference between the original script and the film in its final form"</span>. Angelopoulos is however, unwilling to go into the post-release censorship issues encountred by the film pointing out, <span style="font-style:italic;">"...since i have the intention of continuing to make films in Greece. The main thing is that Days Of 36 was released"</span>. In finishing off the interview, when asked about state funding of the film Angelopoulos replies: <span style="font-style:italic;">"Not a penny, but they didn't forget to collect the taxes"</span>. <br /><br />For me, the film is a bit of an oddity. I'm used to his more recent output, his use of long shots and neverending takes, the lack of editing and the prominence of locally-sourced music (courtesy of his regular composer Eleni Karaindrou), but <span style="font-style:italic;">Days Of 36</span> - part of his 'Historical Trilogy' along with <span style="font-style:italic;">The Travelling Players</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">The Hunters</span> - is a very different entity indeed.<br /><br />The film, losely based on real events, concerns a prisoner and a politician. In the opening scene a trade unionist is shot in some type of industrial yard. The shooter [we presume] is sent to prison where a homosexual politican (from the conservative right) visits him in his cell. The prisoner takes the politican hostage at gunpoint causing a political crisis in Greece - how do the government under the military control of Metaxas [leading a right wing military-lead coalition] end the situation in a way that causes the least embarrasment? As the hostage situation stagnates moves are made in the political arena to end the siege, leading finally to a rather down-hearted conclusion.<br /><br />I said the film is different because stylistically, this is not what i have come to expect from Angelopoulos. The takes are just as long as in any of his other films (in some cases longer) and the use of elongated corridors to enhance the distinctly Brechtian sense of alienation is just as prevalent. However, from the very outset in the opening shot Angelopoulos employs the high-angled camera far more than in any of his other films i've had the pleasure of watching. Usually the camera is at eye level in his work, but in this film he constantly reverts to a quasi-Hitchockian high-angled shot from the corner of the room in which the action takes place. Added to this is the striking use of recessional depth, the likes of which one might associate more with Fassbinder - Angelopoulos talks of Antonioni and Godard as his major influences, <span style="font-style:italic;">"If you are looking for an affinity then it is more in the direction of Godard you should look... At the early stages there was also a touch of Antonioni"</span>, plus of admiration for Dreyer although he had only seen one of his films. Using the corridors stretching away from the camera Angelopoulos rarely employs the flatter, "planimetric" staging of his later work (for which people have described his films as like viewing a series of paintings) preferring instead to place his peoples in 3 dimensions using all levels and depths of the frame at once. For those more accustomed to his recent preference for stylish tracking shots that often draw attention to their technical proficiency as much as their aesthetic charm that aspect of his oevre is on display as much here as anywhere else - panning the camera through 2 or 3 complete revolutions goes almost unnoticed amidst the bleakly cinematography and captivating passiveness of the lead actors.<br /><br />This stained cinematography, combined with the depth staging, lack of editing and sparse dialogue combine to give the film an at once enchanting appeal, counterbalanced by its remote, dramatic sense of alienation, its characters noticeably dislocated from reality. This dislocation is then counteracted by the recognisable faces of some of the politicians, and of the englishmen in the film, plus the sly satirical elements such as the conservative politician's effeminacy - producing a uinique effect of both pulling the audience into the film, and shying them away with the same gesture thus allowing for a more rigorous intellectual debate of the piece. The actors, restrained in their manerisms to the point of tension do what is required by their director - that is to say they do not give bad performances; many modern audiences will not like the distance invoked through their coldness and the lack of characterisation arising from the dearth of dialogue. Yet this is precisely the director's point.<br /><br />With <span style="font-style:italic;">Days Of 36</span> he is evoking an atmosphere of political tension under the weight of a dictatorship as much as he is telling a specific story. The fact that a character is a politican is enough without going inot the depth of the character, as the audience in Thessaloniki in 1972 were bringing many preconceptions about the era to the film with them - they knew these people already without being told or shown more. As Angelopoulos says, <span style="font-style:italic;">"what i was looking for was a certain climate. A reign of terror"</span> thus in creating this climate he poses far more questions than he answers. In depicting the "what" and the "when", in alienating the audience through the Brechtian dramatics, he then reengages his viewers on a more intellectual level through posing the question "why?" and by confronting the public with truths that the greek authorities may not have wanted to be widely known (such as the characters being shot by firing squad in the film, which is set at a time when hanging was the public method).<br /><br />I cannot say this is Angelopoulos' best film as it lacks a lot of the ambition, the scope and, for lack of vocabulary, the "epic feel" of his masterpiece <span style="font-style:italic;">The Travelling Players</span>. Likewise the story is far less charming than <span style="font-style:italic;">Eternity And A Day</span> and perhaps, the politics are less relevant in contemporary Europe than the migration in <span style="font-style:italic;">The Suspended Step Of The Stork</span> but this should not detract from its own merits. For a film made on the cheap, shot quickly largely with an amateur cast (at best he used semi-professional actors) that has only ever had limited distribution, the film examines and satirises an important period of Greek history that has shaped Greek culture ever since. Not a film for those unfamiliar with Angelopoulos' oevre - at least not the best introduction to this very specific mileu, though once you know what to expect and are prepared to give the film a couple of viewings for it to reveal it's nuances and more subtler artistic touches then one can really appreicate it for the important and influential piece of Greek cinema that it truly is.<br /><br />8/10Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-18344971695092993002007-02-13T13:58:00.000+00:002007-02-08T11:38:06.044+00:00Idi i smotri (1985) - Elem Klimov<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDReview2/comeandsee/CS_MovieCap_3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDReview2/comeandsee/CS_MovieCap_3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Come And See</span> is without doubt, one of the great anti-war films. Initially i thought it might be similar to <span style="font-weight:bold;">Tarkovsky</span>'s <span style="font-style:italic;">Ivan's Childhood</span> but from the opening scene with the two boys digging on the beach for guns as a plane drones overhead, it becomes abundantly clear this is a different beast entirely.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Aleksei Kravchenko</span> is an endearing in the lead role early in the film as his anguish, insanity and total mental shattering is gutwrenching come the conclusion. Just aboy who finds himself fighting alongside his countrymen in a war he probably doesn't fully understand, with no training and never having any objectives spelled out to him you have to wonder what hope he has realistically. The introduction therefore of Glasha (<span style="font-weight:bold;">Olga Mironova</span>) is, i think meant to represent some kind of hope as he finally meets someone of a similar age with whom he thinks he can find some sense in the chaos of warfare. Any hope is quickly disbanded when the bombs [and paratroopers] drop into thier forest and the bullets starting pinging off the tree bark around them. From the woodland scene onwards the stead descent of the characters into their own for of hell is as emotional as it is well-measured by the director.<br /><br />It would be easy for the camera to focus on Florya's dead family, i can see many american directors chosing to exploit the scene of dead children to tug at the audience's heartstrings, but <span style="font-weight:bold;">Klimov</span> is clearly better than that - chosing instead to witness, up close the horror that is going on inside Florya's mind. Deaf from shell shock (and inevitably suffering from PTS) the trawl through across the bog to the island, during which Florya clearly starts losing his grip on reality is a masterclass in filming psychological breakdown. Initially we have some hope that he may get to his family - dashed by the shot of the dead bodies - then further compounded by the relentless walk into the bog sinking ever deeper and closer to death. The score at this point (by <span style="font-weight:bold;">Oleg Yanchenko</span>) descends into a truly horrifying, disturbing pit of dissonance, chords and keys crashing into each other with evermore ferocity as the girl realises she might die in the bog with the boy (who is quite clearly in the process of a mental breakdown). Out of tragedy, Klimov takes the film into the perversity of war with the strange effigy those on the island have erected of a German officer, a figure against which the bitter can direct their hatred. With the boy being sent back out again, this time in order to get food, the futility of the war and its inescapability really start to be hammered home. As the cow dies, even Florya is clearly wondering what the point of it all is, if everyone around him is being killed or left behind he seems almost resigned to death.<br /><br />Going into the final section of the film, having witnessed the explosiveness of war, the threat and the psychological damage it can do one's left wondering what the film could have in store for a climax. The scene in the village is oe of the most difficult scenes i've watched in a war film, the whole series of events unfolding with an extremely depressing senses of the inevitable and shot at a slightly dislocated distance by Klimov so although we feel like we're actually there witnessing the horror, the audience also knows there is nothing that can stop it. The offer of letting the adults go without the children is a cruel twist of the blade, as is the apparent pleasure the troops take in pouring ammunitio into the building, relishing every magazine and grenade explosion. Having emotionally, visually, cinematically peaked with the massacre the end can't - or shouldn't be able to top it. In one sense it does, indeed the final shots of history in reverse as a photo of HItler is fired at have been seen by some as the best shots of the film. My own personal take on this sequence is that the boy, out of depression, resentment, anger, a whoel swathe of emotion is trying to reach a catharsis by firing his weapon into an effigy of the figure that he has been told is to blame for the war. All the horrors of the boy's life are linked to the war, so by shooting into the picture he can metaphorically, symoblically release the tension inside him against a figure of pure hatred. The way the sequence also finishes on the child portrait - a time when the boy was still innocent, unjaded by the world around him also seems to pose as some kind of hope for the audience: though not an overtly positive finish this is clearly as close to a happy ending as Klimov is willing to go. The final shot is picturesque, pure, hopeful and nice, in some way counterbalancing the nihilism of what has gone before in the film; at the very least it is the best image of the film that one could remember afterwards (and far more prefereable to some of the film's brutality).<br /><br />I do have one overriding reservation though. I know that 600+ villages were destroyed by the German army, and i know a lot of Russian civilians were needlessly killed but - the film seems to go out of its way to demonise the german characters. From the sacrilegious SS officer effigy to the col-hearted way the germans relish the slaughter of peasants, there is nothing to say the Russians are any more than victims. No mention of the horrors purpotrated by the advancing Russian army, and in the backwards sequence where we see villages burning - a lot of those villages were probably burned down during the period of Russian retreat when a "scorched earth" policy was operated to prevent the Germans getting use out of the conquered land. Made in 1985 i guess the producers couldn't make a film too critical of the Russian army during WW2 but without this criticism the film struck me as far more anti-german than an anti-conflict/anti-warfare piece. 9/10Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-86911409625632074392007-02-08T11:35:00.000+00:002007-02-08T10:43:16.915+00:00The Last Of England (1988) - Derek Jarman<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.schoolsliaison.org.uk/kids/access/art/images/lastofeng.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.schoolsliaison.org.uk/kids/access/art/images/lastofeng.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Not having any idea of what <span style="font-weight:bold;">Derek Jarman</span>'s films are like before diving headfirst into this particular title is as much of a hindrance as an advantage. With no preconceptions (except those garnered from the reviews on IMDB) i didn't know what to expect, having never really seen a truly abstract film save perhaps Un Chien Andalou, but a total absence of a story is all this film has in common with Bunuel's surreal short.<br /><br />From the outset it becomes abundantly clear that this is Jarman's personal film, an exposé if you will of his bitterness towards late '80s UK culture and society. As we see him working at his Bankside studio there's something tense in the scene, but it's not clear exactly what or why. But before the audience has time to work out where this film is or who the man at the desk is (and where he is) the didactic assault on the senses - aural, visual, emotional, political begins in earnest. A snapped shot of a person holding a flare, a man injecting heroin, masked men with guns. Shots cut together at a rate you might expect from Michael Winterbottom, but far from the contemporary dirctor's haphazrd scattershot approach to editing Jarman's constrcut seems to have far more in comon with soviet nontage cinema. We see the artist, then we see a boy masturbating over a Caravaggio painting, we see a flare illuminating the darkness - there is not one image that is placed at random into the montage; everything is placed together because that's the best way to get across the message. But this then begs the question - what is his message?<br /><br />The message, the point or focus of Jarman's cinematic barrage appears to me to be a countercultural political polemic. In the 1970s political syndicalims became rife amongst the working classes of a Labour britain; under Thatcher the mines were shut down (amid violent protests) and the army got tough in Northern Ireland (Human rights cases over internment dragged on for years afterwards). Her government, under the 'Iron Lady' was one of solidity, of national strength, in the case of the Falklands conflict a manipulated patriotism. Jarman seeing all this also sees a loss of traditional morality, a loss of heritage and i think, Britishness. Society, in Jarman's eyes emerged at the end of the 1980s fragmented with the working classes wholly out of touch with the middle class - so his film is just as fragmented. Perversly in this dystopic industrial wasteland a man injecting heroin, a man getting shot on a rooftop by masked gunmen and a tramp scavaging for food in a scrapheap does not seem at al out of place. Indeed it's these social pervsersions that seem to define the environment for Jarman, the scariest thought of all however is that none of these nameless characters who fliter in and out of the film are fictional - in 1988 you could probably go to a scrapheap and find the tramp, or go to a part of Belfast where a ritual execution was taking place and in London heroin was soon to make way for the deluge of ecstasy in the yuppy 90s and later cocaine.<br /><br />There does however seem to be some hope, some light in the darkness, held aloft by a facless person lighting the path if not to righteousness then at least to a possibility of a better future. It's no accident that the final shot is of a man holding a flare in a boat being rowed away by people dressed like KKK members. What came to mind watching this scene was the famous headline in The Sun which read: "Will the last person to leave please turn off the light". Whetehr this a deliberate reference or whether i'm reading too much into it the repeated motif of this person with a flare that crops up amidst all other sorts of chaos is an interesting one that clearly has purpose, even if that purpose is not easily fathomable. The same can be said of the marriage scene, that Jarman pays an awful lot of attention to with his camera. A man and woman get married in a dirty derelict building, falling apart and covered in crap, surrounded by various unusal aspects of society - a crossdresser and a dwarf are the more memorable. Following the ceremony we then see the woman outside with a large fire burning nearbye. I sort of expected her to go into a political speech like Eve in Godard's <span style="font-style:italic;">Sympathy For The Devil</span> but she doesn't - jarman's far more interested on her body language that resmebles, for me, a kind of mournful despair. This should be the happiest day of her live, but under Jarman's subversion it becomes a fascinating bastardisation of classical traditions, the purity of her white dress somehow remaining untainted by the filth and desolation around her like some sort of innocent virginal survivor of a holocaust.<br /><br />Photographically, the film is just as planned, precise and made to be controversial. In a world where Hollywood spends millions on big budget 35mm movies Jarman works from a small bankside studio shooting on an 8mm camera splicing in 40 year old home video footage his parents shot. The lighting is as bizarrely striking as it is shoddy. The vibrant colours arent fully exploited because of the amateur equipment, but it's also this amateurness in the cinematography that makes everything so much more powerful. Light and colour merge into the environment changing everything onscreen in a way that would never happen in a the highly controlled environment of a Hollywood studio. Then over this we get a soundtrack with as much avriety as anything else in the film. Pomp And Circumstance becomes a symbol of faux nationalism, an insincere facade of pride that hides an underlying disilusion and apathy - a complete contrast to the usual outpouring of zeal it's accompanied by at The Proms. <span style="font-weight:bold;">Simon Fisher-Turner</span>'s own unique, highly original score is just as effective in evoking the kind of feeling Jarman intended as Philip Glass' score was for Koyanisquatsi (a film that also shares the fragmented narrative structure although with more coherence than this film). In fact, the best way i can describe what watching the film is like is to say it's <span style="font-style:italic;">Koyanisquatsi</span> meets <span style="font-style:italic;">Tarnation</span> with <span style="font-style:italic;">The Rocky Horror Picture Show</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">Who Dares Wins</span> thrown in for good measure.<br /><br />An impossible film to get your head round, with an overt style many will label as arty or pretentious, but one that has unrivalled passion at it's core. A smack in the face for British conservatism and modernity that uses the very tools of modenity to evoke a certian nostalgia for the preceeding traditions, morals, society as a whole. Watching this film, then turning on the news almost had me packing my bags and emigrating.<br /><br />10/10Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6770153634417645981.post-81955416268375227222007-02-08T09:54:00.000+00:002007-02-08T10:40:30.757+00:00Le Plaisir (1952) - Max Ophüls<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDReviews25/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls%20Le%20Plaisir-8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDReviews25/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls%20Le%20Plaisir-8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br />This cinematic triptych, made in France by a German who spent the majority of his career in the USA, displays all the director's narrative and visual style with the minimum of ease and time. Based on the writings of <span style="font-weight:bold;">Guy de Maupassant</span>, <span style="font-style:italic;">Pleasure</span> is subdivided into three shrot stories all concerning pleasue - namely <span style="font-style:italic;">Le Masque</span>, <span style="font-style:italic;">La Maison Tellier</span> and <span style="font-style:italic;">Le Modèle</span>. The first taking up approximately 15 minutes of runtime, the second nearly an hour and the third the last 15 minutes or so. In fact, when the film was first devised there was no intention of making <span style="font-style:italic;">Le Modèle</span> but the final story was changed when <span style="font-weight:bold;">Édouard Harispuru</span> stepped in as a change of producer. Speaking reasonable French the dialogue surprisingly accurate, though this is because of how Ophüls wrote the script - first he would dictate the dialogue in German to <span style="font-weight:bold;">Jean Valère</span> who would write it in her French before <span style="font-weight:bold;">Jacques Natanson</span> went through it with a fine-tooth comb to make it as good a screenplay as possible.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDReviews25/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls%20Le%20Plaisir-1(1).jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDReviews25/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls%20Le%20Plaisir-1(1).jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Le Masque</span> (pictures above) tells the story of an old man who wears a mask so he can go to lavish balls, so he can approach and court young ladies who otherwise would have turned a blind eye to him. The majority of the story takes place in the decadent palace where the bal is taking place, the camera constantly moving through all three dimensions around the dancing characters, up and down the stairs, creating the space as it moves. The protagonist comes in inebriated and begins drunkenly dancing with a girl before he passes out from exhaustion, it's only when his mask is removed we see him for who he really is - before at his home we are filled in on his story by a doting wife. As striking as the camera movements are it's realy the costume and set design that stand out early on. Within the ball the dancers are constantly framed within windows and/or glass panes that surround the room and when we leave the ball we see a figure framed under the neck of a horse, the camera still [as it usually is in <span style="font-style:italic;">Le Plaisir</span>] at a jaunty offset angle. There's a strange duality in the figure of the mask i feel; we pity him in many ways because his efforts will more often than not prove fruitless whilst we can sympathise slightly with his wife who seems to let this go on endlessly with little complaint. But as a metaphor, perhaps of the audience, putting on a mask to give the appearance of youth so one can fit into decadent surroundings - there seems something profound in this although i'm not sure exactly what.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDReviews25/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls%20Le%20Plaisir-3(1).jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDReviews25/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls%20Le%20Plaisir-3(1).jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br />The bulk of the film is taken up by the story of what happens when a local brothel closes for a day. In <span style="font-style:italic;">La Maison Tellier</span> we only ever see the brothel from the outside, a sly touch of style that allows for an amazing exterior shot that rises up around the outside of the building looking at everything inside through slits, window and door frames (pictured). When the house closes we see that the patrons, the local gentlemen can't get on without it - they try to sit down and have a conversation but the insults soon fly and disorder erupts. It is with a distinct sense of irony that it is the local whorehouse (seen as very respectable by the locals) which keeps the town running smoothly. Meanwhile the girls from the house go into the Normandy (although the original text is set elsewhere in France) countryside to see the first communion of the Madamme's niece. The hilly landscape fitting in perfectly with the director's style of offset camera angles and constant 3-dimensional panning and track. Within the church itself, ornately adorned with cherubs and other iconography (something criticised at the time although the actual church looks exactly like the set does) both the baroque nature of the film and the heavy emotional subtext come to the fore. During the ceremony, without reason, one of the girls - the outspoken Rosa, starts to weep which soon spreads until everyone in the church is crying. It becomes abundantly clear at this point the joy of the brothel, the smiles on the girls' faces as they invite the customers in is just a facade - and hence why we only see the outside of the building (literally only the facade) in the same way the patrons only see a front the girls put on. Following some celebratory drunkness the girls return to the house and everything goes pretty much back to the way it was before in town. There seems to be a moral tale at play here, but the film never judges the girls - they are merely women earning money from something they appear to enjoy; certainly their customers leave satisfied but nevertheless in the moment when they cry you realise that they are sad inside and that their job- to which they return, is stifling their emotional freedom. A tale of pleasures of the flesh and immorality, but not an overtly preachy or pious one, or indeed happy (despite appearances).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDReviews25/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls%20Le%20Plaisir-9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.dvdbeaver.com/film/DVDReviews25/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls/a%20le%20plaisir%20max%20ophuls%20Le%20Plaisir-9.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />In the final tale an artist seeks happiness, joy and fulfilment through his muse - <span style="font-style:italic;">Le Modèle</span>. In the most visually impresive of the three stories the opening shot tells the whole story of the protagonists' relationship without a single cut. Seeing his muse for the fiorst time the artist runs up some stairs after her, they disapear round a corner behind a wall and emerge seconds later hand-in-hand descending stairs opposite towards the camera. When the arguments start the camera follows one chase through the house, tracking through walls, following the character's pursuit before framing them in a window pane or door frame. In the final scene of the film, the most impressive technical shot of the film emerges: at the end of an argument the model turns out of frame, then walks up some stairs to throw herself out of the window. The camera, watching the argument in medium shot turns in time with the model becoming a 1st person P.O.V which then walks up the stairs, with the model's shadow on the wall in front of the camera, before opening the window and jumping out - the camera films the fall from the model's viewpoint the whole way down including crashing through the conservatory ceiling. Then in the final shot, going against every other shot in the film - no extraodinary detail in the set, no complex aperture framing or strange camera angles, no tracking either vertically or laterally - we get a glorioulsy simple, picturesque shot of people on an almost empty beach and thus, a sense of happiness is finally achieved. 8/10<br /><br /><a href="http://www.combustiblecelluloid.com/leplaisir.shtml">Combustible Celluloid review</a>Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17278767605687469367noreply@blogger.com1