The International
A muddled travelogue / capitalist conspiracy police thriller. Naomi Watts is wasted, obviously in it for the paycheck. Owen's scowling intensity carries the action. The Guggenheim shootout is awesome but that's about it as the rest is a cut and paste of plot points stolen from Bond movie discards.
Valkyrie
The documentary films on this subject are better - cover the same ground and tell you much more about the motives and character of those involved, including Rauchenberg. They were not heroes by any stretch, sought to replace Hitler only when the war began to go badly and they feared their beloved wehrmacht was going down the tubes. They were autocrats - just with a different fuhrer. The movie sticks close to the facts without access to the emotional core we should get from drama. Knowing the true ending diminished the thrill aspect and Tom Cruise's strong presence wasn't enough to keep my involvement.
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
My admittedly minority view is that this film is a monumental waste of effort - for the makers and the viewer. The technical achievement of turning the premise into visual reality is notable, but the script by Eric Roth simply restates his fuzzy sentimentality of Forrest Gump - trying to answer the profound big question: "Life is ___." His answers in this film are just as unsatisfying - "some people are mothers, some artists, some dance" - some write sappy screenplays, some make bad movies.
The Day the Earth Stood Still
The first thing the aliens should destroy are all prints of remakes of movie classics. No one who fondly recalls the black & white classic should come anywhere near this one. Why do they think it will succeed? Didn't they learn from last years 'Invasion' or 'The Manchurian Candidate'? Only Spielberg's 'War of the Worlds' was worthy of remake in the genre of paranoid sci-fi. The idiot producer must have thought Keanu was Klaatu's grandson - maybe he is - his acting is otherworldly.
Cadillac Records
Old Hollywood's pop music composer bios were summed as "... and then he wrote, etc." Like 'Dreamgirls' & Ray, this one can be summed, "... and then they sang." Fitting in the hits of the stars + Chess's story + the often tragic endings + the racial issues was too much for this film. But for those who are ignorant of these pioneers of rock & soul, I'm glad it was made. Not answered was why Chess loved this music. Was it just the money? They imply something deeper, but never convinced me.
Last Chance Harvey
Good acting, mediocre script. Two middle aged self-described failures find each other and take one last risk at seeking love. Simple, a good short story that is not often told on screen. But to fill out the 93 minutes, there is far too much accessory plot - her mother and his daughter, ex-wife, and boss - and way too many scenes showing the pair walking, sightseeing, apparently finding things to talk about - the details of the beginnings of trust and love. But the writer and director deny the audience these moments by dialing up the music score, avoiding the difficulty of letting us in on it. It's a fantasy, especially considering Hoffman's character, who is set up as a loser, but acts with a self-confidence that seems contrary to the set-up.
New In Town
Pretty bad. Not a surprise in sight. Every beat is foreshadowed long before it happens. The local "characters" are not close to any real people who live in any world. Timely? The jobs are saved by a tapioca recipe? Yuck.
Doubt
Not being Catholic, I don't want to yield to the temptation of seeing this film as a critique of what's wrong with The Church, or Religion. I also resist the notion that it is a tract about abusive priests. The acting, of course, is first rate, even dazzling. The writing & direction are fluent, with appropriate twists and dramatic turns. My small quibbles involve the plotting, which is deceptively contrived. The setup misleads you - the apparently "good" person may have done evil; the unlikeable "bad" person may be "right". The event that triggers the "doubt" is a bit contrived - I doubted that 'Sister James', as portrayed by Amy Adams, would have interpreted what she saw as something suspect. Other than those small problems, the performances by Streep, Hoffman and the surprisingly moving Viola Davis, are what remain in the afterglow.
The Earrings Of Madame De ...
A film that proves that classic art films with subtitles can be entertaining, if given a chance. Max Ophuls is one of the least known of the great classic film stylists who made full use of the "moving picture camera." Like Welles, Fellini & Hitchcock, the moving camera sets the mood, tells the story, moves the viewer's emotions more eloquently than the words. The story here, like the camera movement, is complex, ironic, witty, and ultimately profound on its many levels.
La Plaisir
As a trilogy showcasing Ophuls brilliant style, 'La Plaisir', joins 'The Earrings of Madame de...' and 'La Ronde'. All set in France's Belle Epoque, an era of decadence and prudery, ostentatious wealth and rigid class pomposity. You can see why Ophuls dazzles and influences modern filmmakers - his camera style and story telling ability are singular.
Quantum Of Solace
What made this JB different from others was the ruthlessness, arrogance, blatant machismo plus a debonair English dry wit, the wry smile, the cool settings. Craig lived up to that in 'Casino Royale', but here he is not much more than 'Jason Bourne' on a revenge trip, a humorless lethal weapon. His adversary, 'Greene', was not worthy - never had a chance. Disappointing.
Frost / Nixon
With the original interviews available (see below) and fresh in my memory. Damn, I'm old. I found the back story about Frost more interesting. Sheen captures Frost's smarmy lightweight personality & the drama in his desperation to be seen as legitimate. The subtext should be noted: the celebrity non-journalist interviewer now rules over the serious traditional reporters. Imagine Larry King, Oprah, Matthews, or O’Reilly interviewing Nixon.
Frost / Nixon: the Watergate Interviews
Having watched it when it first aired, I welcomed reliving the disgust I felt then listening to the pathos Nixon tried to squeeze when revealed as the liar he was. The close-up camera, Frost's incredulous tone, Nixon's falsely earnest voice make gripping viewing, fully understood only in context of the entire historical record. Nixon's defense - that his motives were not criminal - is so weak that only the most air-headed apologist could swallow it without gagging
The Spirit
Frank Miller as film director went for an unapologetic comic book look and over-the-top self-conscious acting style that undercuts the noir mood he managed to capture in ‘Sin City’. It didn't work - you can't take it seriously and it wasn't very funny or original.
Vicky Christina Barcelona
Woody Allen at his best manages to cloak a very deep and insightful film about the human condition in apparently frivolous forms. I would rank this film in the upper 1/3 of Woody’s work, certainly below his earlier works of genius, but far superior to his later tossaways. The best since ‘Match Point’. It exploits Woody's special talent as a short story writer and it is the most authentic of his European set films. Woody works his favorite themes - the messiness of love, sex and relationships; the mystery of art and genius. His characters are complex, self-deceiving, struggling with self image, passion, seeking the elusive happiness and romance and fulfillment that Woody knows often makes them (and all of us) look silly, pretentious, and sometimes tragic. Well schooled in Americans-abroad literature and European film sensibility toward 'life' and 'passion' and unconventionality, Woody is ultimately a realist rather than a romantic - at least, here his realist side wins out in a logical, tho not completely satisfying ending. The film, like Vicky & Christina's summer vacation, is itself something of a fantasy. Cruz's brilliant realization of the mercurial artist Maria Elena is more than a cipher, but she is another of Woody's singular characters, raising one of his favorite themes - genius residing in a flawed human may never be fulfilled.
Tell No One
Another French film that owes much to American film style and form. Guillaume Canet's previous films, 'Love Me If You Dare' and 'Merry Christmas' showed a willingness to tweak genres. This mystery / thriller of the Hitchcock wrong man-racing-to-solve-riddles is overly complex and long and reliant on contrived twists, but still stylish, with interesting characters & familiar faces in minor roles - Rochefort, Baye, Scott-Thomas.
Rachel Getting Married
I'm ambivalent about this film. Anne Hathaway stretches into drama quite comfortably - impressive. The family dynamic of the wedding and the warmth & charm of the celebrants is enjoyable to watch, filmed so that you feel you are part of the fun in the intimate multi-focused witness-like style that suggests Robert Altman. BUT the elephant in the room plot - the tragedy that might have destroyed the possibility of happiness for this family, and seemingly almost did, is a bit melodramatic for my taste. Anne's 'Kym' is the one who understandably can't put it completely to rest. Her intense need for re-connection with the the family she hurt is painful to watch.
Synecdoche, New York
I think the previous Charlie Kaufman works are among the best films in recent times. I got the idea he was trying for in this one. His images & metaphors are brilliant as usual. BUT I didn't "enjoy" this film. I squirmed. And it is not a great film. My problem is the same one I have with Kubrick (especially his last film) and later Woody Allen. The philosophical world view is ultimately too sad to be credited. 'Caden', however, is a poor example of an everyman. He is an artist groping for a way to express all about his life. He seems captivated by every neurosis that precludes man from happiness. Kaufman stacks the deck. Life is beyond this character - is that sad life, art? Sure, but it is not the whole truth. Is it all so meaningless and trivial? Caden's "art" certainly turned out to be a delusion.
Elegy
A film to love or hate. Sexist, creepy, sentimental, contrived or sensitive, insightful, tragic, ironic. Filled with undeniably excellent actors. I felt less sympathy for ‘David's’ dilemma than others might. What many will find unreal is ‘Consuela's’ love for him. But Penelope Cruz finds honest and brave motivation in her character's attraction to him. She overcomes the assumptions of her startling beauty with a depth that only a truly beautiful woman can.
What Just Happened
The best work De Niro has done in a long long time. Though it failed to hit with critics or audiences, this Hollywood movie biz bitter comedy deserved better. In the tradition of 'The Player' & many others, it comes close to the nasty truth about the fragile egos & self deceptions rampant in that town.
A Handful Of Dust
'Tony Last' may be one of the most infuriatingly naive characters in Brit lit. He is always the 'last' to get the picture - his wife's infidelities, his guide's incompetence, his captor's dark intentions. Evelyn Waugh’s picture of between-the-wars English society is typical of its genre. Whether meant as social parable of England's naivete, or satire of upper class twits & their reliance on outmoded traditions of decency, or a postmodern tale of the wreckage of selfish indulgence ('Unfaithful' is the most recent example), the acting by Scott Thomas, Wilby, and of course, Guiness, is first rate. You will squirm for poor ‘Tony’ and his ilk - the trusting and foolish wellborn, about to become (justifiably) extinct.
Lady Chatterley
Stories about passionate affairs by bored - or abused - wives of inattentive - or sexually crippled - husbands with manly men - usually defined as those with two day beards - are common in literature (‘Anna Karenina’) and film (‘Unfaithful’). Lawrence's novel has been filmed many times, mostly for the explicit sex & sometimes with the class issue as a rationale. This one, released in 2006 directed by Pascale Ferran, though painfully long & very French (while set in England) finds a new fresh slant. After an hour of meandering through forests and glades, we realize that it is about 'nature' and the natural urges of the human animal, not in the brutish sense of mere lust, though that counts, but to show that sex and physical connections are as natural as rain, flowers, and birds. 'Constance'- the same character name as in 'Unfaithful' - conveys a completely different meaning. This woman is completely true to her nature, in the end trying to live a complete life.
Ghost Town
Apart from the idiot conceit that a woman such as Tea Leoni's character would end up with a guy like Ricky Gervais', this re-cycled ghost-helps-living-guy-live-better romantic comedy is pretty pleasant. Ricky's initial character flaw - you know, the one he's going to learn to suppress so he can get the girl and be a better guy - is a bit less painful than his dentist drill - his whiny misanthropy grates like the sound of the drill. But his snide asides - reminiscent of W.C. Fields sarcastic throwaways - are often very funny & his self deprecating insights are on the mark. Greg Kinnear & Tea, as always, hit theirs on the money.
Righteous Kill
It's time for De Niro & Pacino to retire at least as cops. They've played these parts so often they qualify for pensions. And we need the rest. Please. The entire premise - that ‘Fisk’ lost his faith when his partner planted evidence, so decided to kill all the bad guys - is absurd. These guys would have been fixing cases all their careers. The big reveal is so transparent because of bad writing or bad acting by De Niro. His rants make him too obviously the suspect and only one other is likely. As a buddy film, it also fails, partly because De Niro & Pacino occupy the same personas. Other matches: Gable & Tracy, Newman & Redford etc, have far better chemistry due to age, personality & style differences.
Mad Men: Season 1
Terrific series all around. How did HBO pass on it? ‘Sopranos’ vets are the creative force and the structure is similar - eg, ‘Draper’, like ‘Tony’, has deep secrets from his family & ruthlessness vs. compassion. Startlingly accurate & insightful in its depiction of place & time, attitudes & biases. Revealing in understanding of the truth that we are all trapped in the assumptions of our social milieu. The second season will move to the 60's and the changes should be something for these "people".
Nights In Rodanthe
Gere & Lane: boy met girl in 'Cotton Club' lost girl in 'Unfaithful', now gets her back but are they doomed? Thrown together at a crucial turning point in their lives (i.e. careers), will they survive a hurricane (in an inn perched on stilts on a beach), their kids, their script? Only a romance novel reader would care very much or take any of the supersilly plot devices or soapy morals seriously. Emotions are all by the numbers here, and fantasy is all about the sub-pornographic dreams of unfulfilled middle aged women. A sad story.
Tropic Thunder
Proof that war is (funny as) hell in the movies Stiller finally hit the mark with a broad satire of actors, stars, agents, action films. Downey, Jr's work is up there with Peter Sellers for inventiveness. Tom Cruise is shockingly great in his character role. Jack Black, Steve Coogan are hysterical. The DVD contains deleted scenes that are terrific & don't miss the commentary by Stiller, Black, & Downey (still in character).
Wanted
A stew of plots, characters, and effects from previous comic book action flicks - chops bits from 'Matrix', 'Spiderman', too many hitman films to count. Jolie & Freeman walk through without effort. McAvoy could have been Toby Maguire, but with much more whining. The teen nerds who have had sand kicked in their faces can dream of bending bullets around school lockers to get back at the BMOC's. By the way, why do they have to be able to bend bullets around meat?
Appaloosa
I liked this slow moving western that isn't as cynical as 'Unforgiven' or as violent as ‘Wild Bunch’ or as old fashioned as any John Wayne film. Ed Harris as director & actor clearly cares about the characters, tells us just enough about them - except maybe ‘Mrs. French.’ We'd like to know a lot more about her - she says she does what she does in order to survive, but I wonder if she's a sort of pre-noir femme fatale in training. Mortensen is Eastwood's heir for showing intelligence with a minimum of words.
Holy Smoke
Jane Campion, like her French feminist counterpart, Catherine Breillat, is an angry woman. Her films slice into sexual politics with a sometimes cruel scalpel. Of the two, Campion is more entertaining, for sure. This film is visually interesting, often funny. Like Breillat, her take on eroticism focuses on sexual power as a woman's weapon for independence rather than identity. Winslet & Keitel are brave actors, committed to full out risk.
The Duchess
Recognizing the quality work involved in this film, by the actors, costumers, wigmakers, et. al., my reservation stands on the too obvious issues which smash the viewer over the head well beyond unconsciousness. (1)Women were literally treated like dogs by their husbands: kept for breeding and show. They had no legal rights. (2) This ancestor of Lady Diana Spencer led a life not much different from the tragic Di. She married a cold fish who openly had a mistress. She was a celebrity, involved in current events, a fashion icon, a beauty, a socialite, hounded by the press.
RocknRolla
How good? (1) Watched it all the way through (2) without once fast forwarding. (3) I used English subtitles - that helped. (3) Tom Wilkenson bald? (4) Not enough Thandie. (4) Ahh, its kind of Elmore Leonard (‘Get Shorty’)lite. (5) One hour later - did I watch that one?
The Reader
A film that should make moral absolutists sputter obscenities. After all, it asks you to consider as human a woman who has committed the most heinous of crimes. For some in our times, her seduction of a 15 year old boy for sex would be enough to condemn her. But later we discover(through the eyes of the boy, who was left emotionally damaged by the affair) that it was the least of her crimes. But if we are more accepting of human frailty, we may see more ambiguity in the morality choices she made and which he also makes, reflecting on those judgments we are capable of - certainly German society and we are forced to question ourselves as well if we are to be honest. The film wisely gives no answers. Strong views are voiced (by a fellow law student and in the end by another of the woman's victims) and they are just as moving as the pity, if not forgiveness, that we are manipulated into feeling. It is also about the terrible cost to the soul of concealing shameful secrets, and the potential of redemption. A powerful film with a spectacularly brave performance by Kate Winslet, the best of its kind since Meryl Streep's in ‘Sophie's Choice’.
The Incredible Hulk
The Hulk in the end becomes more like Kong in his toying with his little girlfriend. The cynical "Ka-ching" of Marvel's marketing genius is nothing new. Nor is the CG effects auto - destructo binge. Nor is the counter supervillain green thing - Abomination’ (?) maybe a better title for the movie itself. Nothing original. Nothing to feel or think - so its a big hit, right?
Exterminating Angels
Jean-Claude Brisseau, like his female counterpart, Breillat, is not for everyone - especially those who can't abide sexually explicit takes on sexual power politics & a peculiarly French attitude about attraction, obsessive love, and sadness. There is also a creepy dirty-old-man voyeurist sense about Brisseau's eye that is off-putting. But this film does succeed as mainstream soft porn, satisfying the two goals: arousal and involvement. For us men who are always stumped by the mind of woman, it is some help, but not much. As the story shows, in the end, it is a dangerous place to go.
Lies
Nice to see that Korean society is just as confused about sex as we are. Issues like repression, obsession, taboos, sexual power and deception, westernization, all underlie the film with not much subtlety. Contrary to many reviews, there is a plotline and arc to the tale - involving the relationship. The man begins by manipulating the girl. It ends with her dominance over him, sexually as a metaphor for her awareness of her power over him. In the end, she has changed, matured, while he is trapped in his obsession.
Traitor
A better than average political thriller with a far better than average lead, Don Cheadle, one of the few current actors who gives an impression to an audience that he is thinking while he listens, watches & speaks. The critical complaints that the film can't decide whether it is a blow-em up / shoot-em up action flick, or a political issues movie are quibbles - like 'Munich' it is thought provoking, raising troubling questions about terrorism, religion, loyalty. So it is not 'fun' like a superhero action ride, but it is gripping, with some neat twists, and a lot of suspense.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
A Max Ophuls Festival
My first introduction to Max Ophuls came through Bijou, of course.
In those days, we were regulars at the Encore Theater in Hollywood, the Fine Arts in West L.A., and other so-called Art Houses where you could watch classic American and foreign films, gathered together in "festivals".
I was able to watch the American movies on the big screen that I had seen sliced to bits on television for years. There were the MGM and Astaire-Rogers musicals, Bogart movies, Hitchcock films. Each new Bergman and Fellini movie were anticipated as eagerly as the latest Beatles album, as of course were the latest Godard and Truffault.
Bijou’s favorites were the French classics, "La Belle et Le Bete" - Cocteau’s surreal fairy tale that was part horror story and part baroque romance, and "Les Enfant du Paradis" (the 190 minute French version), - made in occupied France under the noses of the Germans by Marcel Carné, written by the legendary Jacques Prévert, starring the equally legendary Jean-Louis Barrault and Arletty.
I found both these films to be hopelessly over-the-top romances, the first a fantasy and the second a tragedy, the kind of stories teenage girls weep over. We argued endlessly about them and Bijou concluded that I was hopeless. No way I could grasp the beauty of Cocteau’s imagery or Prévert’s poetry, forced as I was to rely on the inadequate and prosaic subtitles. Nor could I hope to appreciate the cultural icons that Barrault or Jean Marais (the beast), for instance, represented to the French.
Bijou was right about the barrier of subtitles. Her frequently whispered asides to me during these films made it clear that I was missing important stuff. But I found that the inadequacy of the subtitles forced me to concentrate on the subtleties of camera work, sort of the way I had to focus intently to dig silent movies, like Vidor’s "The Crowd".
Despite the nuisance of subtitles, I was better able to enjoy Jean Renoir’s masterworks, "The Grand Illusion", which was about war, and "The Rules of the Game", which was about a society in elegant decay, blithely unaware of its impending doom. Bijou found these films "too political" and "talky."
But when it came to the films of Max Ophuls we were in complete agreement. Ophuls, a German Jew who fell in love with France when he emigrated there in 1933, was acceptably "French" in outlook and style, admiring of the Belle Epoque, an era of decadence and prudery, ostentatious wealth and rigid class pomposity, in which he found the ironic stories he wanted to tell.
His masterpiece is considered by critics to be "Lola Montes", but the ones I best remember are "La Ronde", "Le Plaisir" and "The Earrings of Madame de ...".
I recently watched them again on restored DVD’s. The trilogy showcases Ophuls brilliant style. You can see why Ophuls dazzles and influences modern filmmakers - his camera style and story telling ability are singular.
There are few special effects in Ophuls films, but modern filmakers are amazed by his ability to stage and film long scenes in one take while the camera and characters weave through complex sets in a natural, yet stylized manner. He captures your attention, forces you to absorb the details of the action, carries you along into the story.
His style is apparent, but never as intrusive or showy as Welles or Hitchcock can be. Where their camera styles always remind you that you are watching a movie, Ophuls' camera, while no less cinematic, never forgets to be the eye of the audience.
"La Ronde"
A French all-star cast: Anton Walbrook, Fernand Gravet, Simone Simon, Danielle Darrieux, Gerard Phillipe, Jean-Louis Barrault, and many others.
A survey of all variations of the genre, touching on all its passion, humor, and drama. Cinematically inventive as all of Ophuls, full of winking sophistication about the illusions we need about love. A gem that even modern audiences should enjoy.
The form of the round, in which A loves B, B loves C, C loves D, and D loves A, has been used by such as Ingmar Bergman ("Smiles of a Summer Night") and Woody Allen ("A Midsummer’s Night Sex Comedy"). This is the best.
Of course, you have to tolerate the subtitles, black & white, & the stagelike fantasy of it. But it is The classic romantic comedy for all time.
"The Earrings of Madame de ..."
Danielle Darrieux, Vittorio De Sica, Charles Boyer.
Ophuls is one of the least known of the great classic film stylists who made full use of the "moving picture camera." Like Welles, Fellini & Hitchcock, the moving camera sets the mood, tells the story, moves the viewer's emotions, more eloquently than the words.
It is also a "round" of a sort, a plot full of ironies and coincidences. The story here, like the camera movement, is complex, ironic, witty, and ultimately profound on its many levels.
"Le Plaisir"
Three de Maupassant stories. The first, "Le Masque", a vignette about a strange man in a mask who faints while dancing and is treated by a doctor (Claude Dauphin) who unmasks an ironic mystery. The second, "La Maison de Tellier" is a longer story about ladies from a popular brothel who travel to the country for a young girl’s confirmation, where they recover their innocence (with Jean Gabin and Danielle Darrieux). The third, "La Modele" (Simone Simon), in which an artist falls in love with a model, but refuses to marry her with tragic result.
These films, made and released in the early 1950's, remain as entertaining and as fresh as when I first saw them.
In those days, we were regulars at the Encore Theater in Hollywood, the Fine Arts in West L.A., and other so-called Art Houses where you could watch classic American and foreign films, gathered together in "festivals".
I was able to watch the American movies on the big screen that I had seen sliced to bits on television for years. There were the MGM and Astaire-Rogers musicals, Bogart movies, Hitchcock films. Each new Bergman and Fellini movie were anticipated as eagerly as the latest Beatles album, as of course were the latest Godard and Truffault.
Bijou’s favorites were the French classics, "La Belle et Le Bete" - Cocteau’s surreal fairy tale that was part horror story and part baroque romance, and "Les Enfant du Paradis" (the 190 minute French version), - made in occupied France under the noses of the Germans by Marcel Carné, written by the legendary Jacques Prévert, starring the equally legendary Jean-Louis Barrault and Arletty.
I found both these films to be hopelessly over-the-top romances, the first a fantasy and the second a tragedy, the kind of stories teenage girls weep over. We argued endlessly about them and Bijou concluded that I was hopeless. No way I could grasp the beauty of Cocteau’s imagery or Prévert’s poetry, forced as I was to rely on the inadequate and prosaic subtitles. Nor could I hope to appreciate the cultural icons that Barrault or Jean Marais (the beast), for instance, represented to the French.
Bijou was right about the barrier of subtitles. Her frequently whispered asides to me during these films made it clear that I was missing important stuff. But I found that the inadequacy of the subtitles forced me to concentrate on the subtleties of camera work, sort of the way I had to focus intently to dig silent movies, like Vidor’s "The Crowd".
Despite the nuisance of subtitles, I was better able to enjoy Jean Renoir’s masterworks, "The Grand Illusion", which was about war, and "The Rules of the Game", which was about a society in elegant decay, blithely unaware of its impending doom. Bijou found these films "too political" and "talky."
But when it came to the films of Max Ophuls we were in complete agreement. Ophuls, a German Jew who fell in love with France when he emigrated there in 1933, was acceptably "French" in outlook and style, admiring of the Belle Epoque, an era of decadence and prudery, ostentatious wealth and rigid class pomposity, in which he found the ironic stories he wanted to tell.
His masterpiece is considered by critics to be "Lola Montes", but the ones I best remember are "La Ronde", "Le Plaisir" and "The Earrings of Madame de ...".
I recently watched them again on restored DVD’s. The trilogy showcases Ophuls brilliant style. You can see why Ophuls dazzles and influences modern filmmakers - his camera style and story telling ability are singular.
There are few special effects in Ophuls films, but modern filmakers are amazed by his ability to stage and film long scenes in one take while the camera and characters weave through complex sets in a natural, yet stylized manner. He captures your attention, forces you to absorb the details of the action, carries you along into the story.
His style is apparent, but never as intrusive or showy as Welles or Hitchcock can be. Where their camera styles always remind you that you are watching a movie, Ophuls' camera, while no less cinematic, never forgets to be the eye of the audience.
"La Ronde"
A French all-star cast: Anton Walbrook, Fernand Gravet, Simone Simon, Danielle Darrieux, Gerard Phillipe, Jean-Louis Barrault, and many others.
A survey of all variations of the genre, touching on all its passion, humor, and drama. Cinematically inventive as all of Ophuls, full of winking sophistication about the illusions we need about love. A gem that even modern audiences should enjoy.
The form of the round, in which A loves B, B loves C, C loves D, and D loves A, has been used by such as Ingmar Bergman ("Smiles of a Summer Night") and Woody Allen ("A Midsummer’s Night Sex Comedy"). This is the best.
Of course, you have to tolerate the subtitles, black & white, & the stagelike fantasy of it. But it is The classic romantic comedy for all time.
"The Earrings of Madame de ..."
Danielle Darrieux, Vittorio De Sica, Charles Boyer.
Ophuls is one of the least known of the great classic film stylists who made full use of the "moving picture camera." Like Welles, Fellini & Hitchcock, the moving camera sets the mood, tells the story, moves the viewer's emotions, more eloquently than the words.
It is also a "round" of a sort, a plot full of ironies and coincidences. The story here, like the camera movement, is complex, ironic, witty, and ultimately profound on its many levels.
"Le Plaisir"
Three de Maupassant stories. The first, "Le Masque", a vignette about a strange man in a mask who faints while dancing and is treated by a doctor (Claude Dauphin) who unmasks an ironic mystery. The second, "La Maison de Tellier" is a longer story about ladies from a popular brothel who travel to the country for a young girl’s confirmation, where they recover their innocence (with Jean Gabin and Danielle Darrieux). The third, "La Modele" (Simone Simon), in which an artist falls in love with a model, but refuses to marry her with tragic result.
These films, made and released in the early 1950's, remain as entertaining and as fresh as when I first saw them.
Friday, May 22, 2009
1939 - 70th Anniversary
Seventy years ago - even before I was born - Hollywood capped its Golden Age with a year of releases that still sparkle, like pearls in a priceless necklace: Gone With The Wind, The Wizard Of Oz, Ninotchka, Gunga Din, Stagecoach, Dark Victory, Mr. Smith Goes To Washington, Wuthering Heights, My Little Chickadee, Destry Rides Again, Only Angels Have Wings, Babes In Arms, The Man In The Iron Mask, At The Circus, The Story Of Irene And Vernon Castle.
The nation was slowly emerging from The Great Depression and was fearful of the imminent world war that had been looming for years and began that September. Americans were isolationists, thirsty for home grown diversions. Forty million Americans (one in three) went to see at least one movie every week. They would first see a newsreel and then some cartoons, a short, and a double feature - a first run "A" film accompanied by a "B" picture.
The major studios, like automobile manufacturers, spewed product from their factories in assembly line fashion - at MGM, nearly one new release each week. It was the age of dictators and each studio, major or independent, had its signature personality, formed by the whims and taste of its production head, its mogul: Mayer, Goldwyn, Warner, Cohen, Selznick and the others. Each had its stable of contract stars and supporting players, writers, producers, directors, crafts people who had perfected the magic of motion picture making.
Because of the misery in Europe, a flood of talented creative juices infused Hollywood. Writers, directors, composers, actors, found haven and gave fresh perspective to dramas, comedies, musicals, adding wit, style, sophistication to the product.
To be sure, the films we remember and still watch seventy years later were the cream of a crop that included plenty of trash that was quickly forgotten. These were factory products, mass produced, consumed, and disposed - never intended for the ages. But it is clear that the year was remarkable for its output and deserves its place as the best single year in Hollywood’s history.
Although post war fashion dictated that the greatest movies were product of "auteurs", these were fabricated by the collaborative efforts of company employees and contractees. However, the stamp of iconoclastic forceful producers such as Goldwyn, LeRoy, and Selznick, and of visionary directors like Hawks, Ford, Stevens, Fleming, Berkeley, and Wyler marked the output.
Ninotchka
MGM. Director: Ernst Lubitsch. Adapted Screenplay: Charles Brackett & Billy Wilder with Walter Reisch. Greta Garbo, Melvyn Douglas, Sig Ruman, Felix Bressart.
Lubitsch was one of the most influential European filmmakers, who specialized in sophisticated light romantic comedies. The "Lubitsch Touch" was exemplified in The Merry Widow, Design For Living, The Shop Around The Corner, To Be Or Not To Be, Cluny Brown, and in Ninotchka, where he teased a delightful comedic performance from Garbo.
The script has fun with Soviet Russia’s pompous drab seriousness compared with the radiant frivolity of Paris of the 1930's, an attitude that was popular with the supposedly left leaning writers of the era. Garbo is a dour commissar sent to check up on three wandering envoys who had been assigned the task of acquiring jewelry now in possession of a White Russian aristocrat. Douglas is (only slightly miscast as) a Parisian playboy, who introduces Ninotchka to the joys of decadence. Once he gets Garbo to laugh, she lights up the screen. More than her melodramas, it is the role in which modern audiences can appreciate her attraction.
The formula has become a cliche of romantic comedy. Cole Porter wrote the music for the hit show and film that adapted it, Silk Stockings (Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse).
Gone With The Wind:
MGM / Selznick. The highest grossing film of the year, it was also the most expensive to produce. The course of its travel from best selling novel of 1936 to screen has been chronicled more than any other movie of any time - in documentaries and innumerable books. This week’s New Yorker includes David Denby’s appreciation of Victor Fleming, an article which mentions two new books, one by Molly Haskell who notes the movie’s cultural impact.
My own view is that once the generation which venerates this film passes away, it will be rated much lower on any list of great American films. Once thought the epitome of the Hollywood epic, it has not stood the test of societal changes in attitude toward African Americans, women’s roles, the presumed nobility of the ante-bellum and post-Civil War South. As bad history and negative cultural stereotyping, it is a bad influence. Some of the acting and writing is hopelessly dated, and some performances are embarrassing to watch.
Still, it grandly symbolizes a universal romantic dilemma for women: between love of a sensitive, soulful, poetic man (Ashley Wilkes / Leslie Howard) and the attraction to rough, sexy males (Rhett Butler /Clark Gable); whether to prize kindness and goodness (Melanie / Olivia DeHaviland) or accept her impulse for risk-taking independence and selfish grasping of power (Scarlett / Vivien Leigh). As such it was a primer for adolescent females of the era, and probably still speaks to girls of a certain age, like Wuthering Heights.
Scarlett is a form of the "anti-heroine" of the 1930's, which was personified elsewhere by Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and Barbara Stanwyck. She schemes, deceives, rails, is passionate and sexy, determined and strong. Leigh was unique because of her fresh sexuality and crystal beauty.
A subtext of the success of the novel and the film is its perspective of war as seen from the woman’s point of view: as an insane and selfish bellowing of bulls bent on the destruction of a "pretty society," an attitude which struck a loud chord in the pacifist America of the 1930's.
This is what Ebert now observes:
"How does Gone with the Wind play after fifty years? It is still a great film, above all because it tells a great story. Scarlett O'Hara, willful, spoiled, scarred by poverty, remains an unforgettable screen heroine, and I was struck again this time by how strong Vivien Leigh's performance is—by how stubbornly she maintains her petulance in the face of common sense, and by how even her heroism is undermined by her character flaws.
"The ending of the film still plays like a psychological test for the audience. What do you think we should really conclude? The next-to-last speech in the movie, Rhett Butler's ‘Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn,’ is one many audience members have been waiting for; Scarlett gets her comeuppance at last. Then comes her speech about Tara, about how, after all, tomorrow is another day. Some members of the audience will read this as an affirmation of strength, others as a renewed self-delusion. (The most cynical will observe that Scarlett, like many another divorcee disappointed in love, has turned to real estate as a career.)"
It has also been the subject of TV sequels and parodies, the best a classic skit by Carole Burnett who fashioned a dress from her velvet drapes, but kept the curtain rods as shoulder pads.
The Wizard of Oz :
MGM. Producer: Mervyn LeRoy. Director: Victor Fleming (and King Vidor). Cinematographer: Harold Rosson (other credits: Treasure Island, Captains Courageous, Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo, The Asphalt Jungle, The Red Badge of Courage). Music: Harold Arlen & E. Y. Harburg. Art Direction: Cedric Gibbons. Makeup: Jack Dawn. Adapted Screenplay: Noel Langley and Florence Ryerson. Judy Garland, Frank Morgan, Billie Burke, Margaret Hamilton, Ray Bolger, Burt Lahr, Jack Haley.
One of the best examples of the remarkable range of creative talents which the Hollywood studio system at the height of its power could harness. MGM desperately tried to get Shirley Temple, settled for their own contract juvenile, the chubby seventeen year old Judy Garland. Mervin LeRoy was the producer, and Victor Fleming was assigned to direct — in the same year he took over the direction of Gone With The Wind!
A spectacular collaboration of Harold Arlen’s tuneful songs with memorable and clever adult rhymes, the nubile Judy Garland at the pinnacle of her precocious power, and a wonderful cast of scene-stealers including The Witch of all witches (Margaret Hamilton), imaginative costumes, sets, spectacular use of color, plenty of wit for the grown-ups — it all adds up to the most watchable children’s fantasy musical ever made.
Beneath it all, as I see it, lies a dark metaphor of the terrors of a girl growing up, leaving home, becoming a woman in a scary, male, adult world. She has flawed male role models to choose from: ranging from the strong but heartless, dumb but sweet, cowardly but cute, and the older man who claims wiz-dom.
It owes its theme to Alice in Wonderland, but from then on, the originality and universality sparkles. It is fun to see it as an in-parable of MGM: Judy is the exploited child / woman trying to escape from the fantasy world controlled by the wizard, Louis B. Mayer, the dream manipulator, and to go home for rest and sleep while Mayer keeps her working for him, awake with psychedelic drugs.
One minor downside of the films’ values which has always disturbed me: after her great adventure, Dorothy seems to have learned a lesson: "There’s no place like home." Apart from being sappy, that always struck me as somewhat reactionary; we should not seek "our heart’s desire" by escaping drab tedium and expanding our horizons. Maybe this is a secret political theme of isolationism, considering the film’s timing, an escape from the looming tornado of world war.
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington:
Columbia. Director: Frank Capra. Screenplay: Sidney Buchman (credits: Theodora Goes Wild, Lost Horizon, Holiday.) James Stewart, Jean Arthur, Claude Rains, Edward Arnold, Eugene Pallette,Thomas Mitchell, Harry Carey, H. B. Warner, Ruth Donnelly,
The unlikely possibility that naive idealism can overcome organized corruption is appealingly argued by Stewart and Capra. Suspension of disbelief is a must. As a genre, political films are rarely "great" because, if good they are timely and therefore become dated quickly. One of my favorites, State of the Union is later (1948) Capra. Seeing it today, it bears the Capra stamp of uplifting cynicism about manipulative politicians along with the sentimental hokum of American symbols of our goodness that I am a sucker for. Capra making a political film is like the remark about Sinatra singing a love ballad: "The jerk really believes all that bull!" And both make you believe, too.
A word about Jean Arthur, who was one of the treasures of the screwball comedy era (You Can’t Take It With You, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, The More The Merrier, and The Talk of the Town and Wilder’s later Foreign Affair). She is my fantasy of a perfect woman: bright, funny, ironic, tough but sentimental, painfully attractive to look at and listen to.
In You Can’t Take It With You, she and James Stewart have three scenes together that epitomize the essence of 1930's romantic comedy as filtered through the sentimental imagination of Frank Capra. Arthur plays Stewart’s secretary. She comes from a ditzy family which meets The Great Depression by accentuating their eccentricities and having a blast. His father is wealthy banker, Edward Arnold, who was Capra’s favorite heavy, a pompous powerful capitalist.
The first scene between the love birds is in the office; Jimmy holds Jean’s hands and coos to her so ardently that she can’t answer the phone. She has to nuzzle it with her nose to the desk and does half the scene with her hair facing the camera. The result is as sexy as it could be. The second scene has the two lovers sitting on a park bench, smooching, and Jimmy talking about his goofy dreams. Arthur mostly reacts, just looking at him as he speaks, and her face is to die for. The third scene is in a ritzy restaurant. Jimmy says he feels a scream rising from his toes, and fears he can’t hold it back. Jean scolds him, and becomes progressively alarmed as Jimmy’s face becomes more and more likely to scream. Suddenly, she screams. It is a hilarious scene, made of just a silly moment of anarchy, of the extreme talents of two wonderful entertainers, pretending to be and becoming a perfect couple.
In Mr. Smith, Jean Arthur evinces the same magical ability to show intelligence, sex appeal, screwball wit, and sentimentality, whether in successive scenes or simultaneous moments. If you want to find a primer on comedic romantic acting, Jean Arthur is the absolute master. (Her closest contemporary mimic is Meg Ryan – place them side by side and see who you prefer. No contest.)
Snow White:
Over all, I prefer Who Framed Roger Rabbit; but as the first of its genre, a full-length animated feature, it was certainly a landmark. "Whistle While You Work," "Some Day My Prince Will Come," Dopey, Prince Charming, the Wicked Witch, the velvety Disney animation touch, whistling and singing animal pals, the fairy tale for pre-adolescent girls. Disney copied the formula so often that it makes the first effort look trite when viewed again.
Stagecoach:
Director: John Ford. Screenplay: Dudley Nichols (other credits: The Informer, Bringing Up Baby) John Wayne, Thomas Mitchell, Claire Trevor, John Carradine, George Bancroft, Andy Devine, Donald Meek, Tim Holt (see below).
John Ford’s sweeping western vistas, and lean power of a young John Wayne. The film accumulates practically every Western cliché character and situation and somehow manages to be convincing and enjoyable throughout. Historically important, it made the western into an A movie, moving the genre and Wayne along with it, away from Saturday matinee hell. It was also the precursor of the "adult western" in which all the stock characters of westerns: dance hall girls, dudes, drunks, are depicted as more real people: prostitutes, homosexuals, tragic flotsam. It also contains the elements for the pattern of Ford’s myth making cinema: the creation of heroes (lone gunslingers, settlers, the cavalry) and villains (Indians, city slickers, bankers, bureaucrats, cowards).
How’s this for trivia: this is the second film on this list for one of the worst actors ever: the cavalry officer is Tim Holt, (one of the three leads in The Treasure of Sierra Madre). Holt also had the central role in Orson Welles’ flawed near masterpiece, The Magnificent Ambersons.
Wuthering Heights:
Goldwyn. Director: William Wyler. Screenplay adapted by Charles McArthur with Ben Hecht (whose screen credits define the Golden Age: Scarface, Viva Villa, Design For Living, Twentieth Century) Laurence Olivier, Merle Oberon, David Niven, Donald Crisp, Leo G. Carroll, Geraldine Fitzgerald, Cecil Kelloway.
Bijou was a lonely young girl who spent a lot of time in the local library reading novels which were on the shelf in alphabetical order by author; so she read all of Austin and the Brontes. When she grew up, we traveled in Europe. She found this novel — which she had loved reading as a pre-adolescent — in a bed and breakfast bin, and re-read it with great anticipation — and disappointment. As a grown woman, she was struck by her realization that the story actually reflects the transparent and immature repressed sexual fantasies of the Emily Bronte, who had been daughter of a stern minister living in pre-Victorian English isolation. The film, wildly romantic to its viewers in 1939, now seems hopelessly silly and over-the-top ... at least, until one considers Titanic.
Interestingly, the modern erotic story line (as in Unfaithful) twists this plot almost beyond recognition. In the modern women’s fantasy, she is in a stable, boring, sexless relationship and craves the dark, unruly, sexy Heathcliff type, has a wild affair with him, then it ends or doesn’t. Here, Cathy starts with Heathcliff, but drops him for the stuffed shirt, but he is the obsessed character who is fatally attracted to her. He pursues her to the point of destroying her life and his, until, on her death bed she admits her passionate love, her eternal tie to him.
Still, the production is first rate movie making. William Wyler directed, with Gregg Toland behind the camera, a script by Hecht and MacArthur, Alfred Newman’s music. They create a rich atmosphere of turbulent passions. Laurence Olivier shows his power in his dark chiseled looks and rich powerful voice, and Merle Oberon, never a great actress in a generation of great screen actresses is believable in the role of The Woman of 1939: vain, fragile, determined, mercurial, just like Vivian Leigh in GWTW and Bette Davis in Jezebel.
Like another tale of tragic juvenile love, Romeo And Juliet, the story continues to speak across generations of romantic girls. In the 90's it was filmed on the moors with more authentic atmosphere and sense of the era with Ralph Fiennes, Juliet Binoche and Colin Firth.
Then, as proof of its primary audience, MTV has recently updated the story to contemporary US teenville. Heathcliff became "Heath", a mysterious and sexy rock music composer and performer. "Cate" (again) marries the wealthy Edward, whose sister, Isabel, is tragically enamored of Heath. There is a lot of moaning, deep and wet kisses, commercials, and bad music. To cash in on the tweener’s romantic ideal of modern tragedy, Cate dies in childbirth this time (as in the novel), and later, Heath is shown riding his chopper with his and Cate’s child on the back, to the strains of some pop melody, while Cate’s spirit approves.
Dark Victory:
Warners. Exec. Producer: Hal. B. Wallis. Director: Edmund Goulding. Screenplay: Casey Robinson (also credited with Captain Blood, Tovarish, King’s Row, Pride Of The Yankees, Now, Voyager.) Bette Davis, George Brent, Geraldine Fitzgerald, Ronald Reagan, Humphrey Bogart. Score: Max Steiner (A famous story goes that Bette Davis asked the director if Steiner was going to underscore her final scene, in which she climbs a flight of stairs as blindness closes in, signaling her impending tragic death. When he hesitated, she ordered: "Either Max goes up those stairs, or I do. But I’ll be damned if I go up there with him.")
Bette Davis was a remarkable star. She was a unique sort of woman in films. Her personality was so powerful that she plowed through all her many unattractive defects to grab you despite your better judgment. She was at her best in soapy melodramas that she elevated to something that was almost human, through sheer determination and personality.
Dark Victory is a tearjerker of the most shameful sort, but is a good example of her power. Davis plays a spoiled heiress who leads a shallow life. Suddenly she develops headaches, double vision, and is cajoled into meeting the very serious George Brent, a brain surgeon. He operates on Bette’s brain, and fails to tell her that she is going to die in less than a year. Bette falls in love with George. Then she discovers the deception, rails at the world and George, finally gives in and marries him. They are happy for the few months they have together in wintry Vermont living a simple life and finding peace of mind. Then Bette feels the onset of the final stages of her "very rare" but convenient movie illness, in which there are no symptoms until a few hours before she is to die, when the world will grow dark. Bette faces the end courageously and alone (except for Steiner’s score), grateful for the love she has had.
The miracle is how compelling Davis makes this film. Though certainly not a beauty in the mold of Garbo, Hepburn, or many others, Davis manages to make herself riveting to look at. Her eyes, those Bette Davis Eyes, are her major attribute in film acting. They express everything. Her voice is sometimes metallic and overpowering, her mannerisms harsh and over-emoting. She moves about, wrings her hands, waves her cigarettes and punctuates her dialogue with vitriolic flair. But she is like a child who is so persistently aggressive that she demands your attention, forces you to take the trip with her, and finally to feel for her. She showed the same kind of power in most of her Bette Davis films.
Only Angels Have Wings:
Columbia. Howard Hawks directed a paean to flyers. Screenplay by Jules Furthman (also credited with The Big Sleep, To Have and Have Not, Bombshell, Mutiny On The Bounty). Starring Cary Grant, Jean Arthur, newcomer Rita Hayworth, and the ubiquitous Thomas Mitchell (who was in every other movie released that year). Score: Dimitri Tiomkin.
Hawks idealizes the between-the-wars masculine ideal, men of action who grieve with gallows humor, hard drinking, and yield only to women who can be pals as well as tolerant lovers.
Gunga Din:
R.K.O. Director: George Stevens. Screenplay: typical of the studio system, many writers worked without screen credit, including: William Faulkner, Ben Hecht, Dudley Nichols, Anthony Veiler. The story is credited to Hecht & MacArthur, who fashioned it from the Kipling poem. Joel Sayre & Fred Guiol got the screen credit. Starring Cary Grant, Victor McLaglen, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., Sam Jaffe, Eduardo Ciannelli, Joan Fontaine, Montagu Love, Robert Coote. Score: Alfred Newman. (One of the uncredited editors was John Sturges - later director of such as Bad Day At Black Rock, The Old Man And The Sea, The Magnificent Seven, The Great Escape). Cinematographer: Joseph August (Portrait Of Jennie).
A terrific adventure film, one of the templates that George Lucas and Steven Spielberg cite as influential to Star Wars and Indiana Jones. A buddy movie, a service comedy, a swashbuckler. Cary Grant, whose sophisticated screwball comedy chops had been established, now hit as an action star with dash and wit, Cockney charm, mixing it up with the gruff MacLaglen and debonair Fairbanks.
Viewed by today’s sensibilities, the clinker of English snobbery toward India, highlighted by darkened skinned Jaffe (a veteran of Yiddish theatre) and Italian actor Ciannelli, must be swallowed to enjoy the fun.
George Stevens, of course, is one of the great film makers of all time. Beginning in silents as cameraman, writer, then as director and producer, master of films in all genres: Alice Adams, Annie Oakley, Swing Time, Woman Of The Year, The More The Merrier, A Place In The Sun, Shane, Giant, The Diary Of Anne Frank.
Destry Rides Again:
Universal. Producer: Joe Pasternak (Anchors Aweigh, Director: George Marshall. Marlene Dietrich, James Stewart, Mischa Auer, Charles Wininger, Brian Donlevy, Una Merkel.
The anti-violent Western in which Stewart plays a pacifist as sheriff. Jimmy’s stammering boyishness mixes with Dietrich’s inflammatory sultriness producing very funny and sexy chemistry, especially in a scene in which she has a knock down cat fight with Una Merkel, which Jimmy tries to mediate.
At The Circus:
MGM. The Marx Brothers, Margaret Dumont, Eve Arden. Screenplay credited to Irving Brecher (other credits: Meet Me In St. Louis, The Life Of Riley), though as in all Marx films, it is hard to know how much the boys improvised.
The film is lesser Marx, certainly not on a par with the earlier A Night At The Opera for MGM, but there are the usual moments of insanity and pun-ishment of the language for which they are best remembered.
Babes In Arms:
MGM. Producer: Arthur Freed. Director: Busby Berkeley. Screenplay: Jack McGowan (Broadway Melody of 1940, Lady Be Good). Songs by Rodgers & Hart, Nacio Herb Brown. Mickey Rooney, Judy Garland.
The first and most original and exhuberant of the Berkeley / Rooney / Garland "lets put on a show" movies. Berkeley exploits their talents to the fullest, with energetic production numbers that make you tired merely watching them. Fame, High School Musical, and the zillion others of this genre owe their existence to this one.
The Women:
MGM. George Cukor. Screenplay: Anita Loos. (F. Scott Fitzgerald also contributed dialogue.) Norma Shearer, Rosalind Russell, Joan Crawford, Paulette Goddard, Joan Fontaine.
Claire Booth Luce’s play, adapted by Anita Loos (Gentlemen Prefer Blondes) with an all-star all women cast, is the most overt "woman’s picture" in an era that credibly boasts as the golden age of female actors and stories about women who would later be called liberated.
The writers and stars of the 1930's were molded by the social sensibilities of the 1920's when small town girls became "flappers" and "vamps", drank whiskey from flasks and in speakeasies, danced in short skirts, bobbed their hair, smoked cigarettes, and went to the big city to become independent. Movies of the 20's and 30's reflected and influenced this pop culture revolution. It wasn’t until the 1950's that women lost their bearings and reverted to the puritanical norm of pliant homemakers that required another revolution to free them from.
The nation was slowly emerging from The Great Depression and was fearful of the imminent world war that had been looming for years and began that September. Americans were isolationists, thirsty for home grown diversions. Forty million Americans (one in three) went to see at least one movie every week. They would first see a newsreel and then some cartoons, a short, and a double feature - a first run "A" film accompanied by a "B" picture.
The major studios, like automobile manufacturers, spewed product from their factories in assembly line fashion - at MGM, nearly one new release each week. It was the age of dictators and each studio, major or independent, had its signature personality, formed by the whims and taste of its production head, its mogul: Mayer, Goldwyn, Warner, Cohen, Selznick and the others. Each had its stable of contract stars and supporting players, writers, producers, directors, crafts people who had perfected the magic of motion picture making.
Because of the misery in Europe, a flood of talented creative juices infused Hollywood. Writers, directors, composers, actors, found haven and gave fresh perspective to dramas, comedies, musicals, adding wit, style, sophistication to the product.
To be sure, the films we remember and still watch seventy years later were the cream of a crop that included plenty of trash that was quickly forgotten. These were factory products, mass produced, consumed, and disposed - never intended for the ages. But it is clear that the year was remarkable for its output and deserves its place as the best single year in Hollywood’s history.
Although post war fashion dictated that the greatest movies were product of "auteurs", these were fabricated by the collaborative efforts of company employees and contractees. However, the stamp of iconoclastic forceful producers such as Goldwyn, LeRoy, and Selznick, and of visionary directors like Hawks, Ford, Stevens, Fleming, Berkeley, and Wyler marked the output.
Ninotchka
MGM. Director: Ernst Lubitsch. Adapted Screenplay: Charles Brackett & Billy Wilder with Walter Reisch. Greta Garbo, Melvyn Douglas, Sig Ruman, Felix Bressart.
Lubitsch was one of the most influential European filmmakers, who specialized in sophisticated light romantic comedies. The "Lubitsch Touch" was exemplified in The Merry Widow, Design For Living, The Shop Around The Corner, To Be Or Not To Be, Cluny Brown, and in Ninotchka, where he teased a delightful comedic performance from Garbo.
The script has fun with Soviet Russia’s pompous drab seriousness compared with the radiant frivolity of Paris of the 1930's, an attitude that was popular with the supposedly left leaning writers of the era. Garbo is a dour commissar sent to check up on three wandering envoys who had been assigned the task of acquiring jewelry now in possession of a White Russian aristocrat. Douglas is (only slightly miscast as) a Parisian playboy, who introduces Ninotchka to the joys of decadence. Once he gets Garbo to laugh, she lights up the screen. More than her melodramas, it is the role in which modern audiences can appreciate her attraction.
The formula has become a cliche of romantic comedy. Cole Porter wrote the music for the hit show and film that adapted it, Silk Stockings (Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse).
Gone With The Wind:
MGM / Selznick. The highest grossing film of the year, it was also the most expensive to produce. The course of its travel from best selling novel of 1936 to screen has been chronicled more than any other movie of any time - in documentaries and innumerable books. This week’s New Yorker includes David Denby’s appreciation of Victor Fleming, an article which mentions two new books, one by Molly Haskell who notes the movie’s cultural impact.
My own view is that once the generation which venerates this film passes away, it will be rated much lower on any list of great American films. Once thought the epitome of the Hollywood epic, it has not stood the test of societal changes in attitude toward African Americans, women’s roles, the presumed nobility of the ante-bellum and post-Civil War South. As bad history and negative cultural stereotyping, it is a bad influence. Some of the acting and writing is hopelessly dated, and some performances are embarrassing to watch.
Still, it grandly symbolizes a universal romantic dilemma for women: between love of a sensitive, soulful, poetic man (Ashley Wilkes / Leslie Howard) and the attraction to rough, sexy males (Rhett Butler /Clark Gable); whether to prize kindness and goodness (Melanie / Olivia DeHaviland) or accept her impulse for risk-taking independence and selfish grasping of power (Scarlett / Vivien Leigh). As such it was a primer for adolescent females of the era, and probably still speaks to girls of a certain age, like Wuthering Heights.
Scarlett is a form of the "anti-heroine" of the 1930's, which was personified elsewhere by Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and Barbara Stanwyck. She schemes, deceives, rails, is passionate and sexy, determined and strong. Leigh was unique because of her fresh sexuality and crystal beauty.
A subtext of the success of the novel and the film is its perspective of war as seen from the woman’s point of view: as an insane and selfish bellowing of bulls bent on the destruction of a "pretty society," an attitude which struck a loud chord in the pacifist America of the 1930's.
This is what Ebert now observes:
"How does Gone with the Wind play after fifty years? It is still a great film, above all because it tells a great story. Scarlett O'Hara, willful, spoiled, scarred by poverty, remains an unforgettable screen heroine, and I was struck again this time by how strong Vivien Leigh's performance is—by how stubbornly she maintains her petulance in the face of common sense, and by how even her heroism is undermined by her character flaws.
"The ending of the film still plays like a psychological test for the audience. What do you think we should really conclude? The next-to-last speech in the movie, Rhett Butler's ‘Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn,’ is one many audience members have been waiting for; Scarlett gets her comeuppance at last. Then comes her speech about Tara, about how, after all, tomorrow is another day. Some members of the audience will read this as an affirmation of strength, others as a renewed self-delusion. (The most cynical will observe that Scarlett, like many another divorcee disappointed in love, has turned to real estate as a career.)"
It has also been the subject of TV sequels and parodies, the best a classic skit by Carole Burnett who fashioned a dress from her velvet drapes, but kept the curtain rods as shoulder pads.
The Wizard of Oz :
MGM. Producer: Mervyn LeRoy. Director: Victor Fleming (and King Vidor). Cinematographer: Harold Rosson (other credits: Treasure Island, Captains Courageous, Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo, The Asphalt Jungle, The Red Badge of Courage). Music: Harold Arlen & E. Y. Harburg. Art Direction: Cedric Gibbons. Makeup: Jack Dawn. Adapted Screenplay: Noel Langley and Florence Ryerson. Judy Garland, Frank Morgan, Billie Burke, Margaret Hamilton, Ray Bolger, Burt Lahr, Jack Haley.
One of the best examples of the remarkable range of creative talents which the Hollywood studio system at the height of its power could harness. MGM desperately tried to get Shirley Temple, settled for their own contract juvenile, the chubby seventeen year old Judy Garland. Mervin LeRoy was the producer, and Victor Fleming was assigned to direct — in the same year he took over the direction of Gone With The Wind!
A spectacular collaboration of Harold Arlen’s tuneful songs with memorable and clever adult rhymes, the nubile Judy Garland at the pinnacle of her precocious power, and a wonderful cast of scene-stealers including The Witch of all witches (Margaret Hamilton), imaginative costumes, sets, spectacular use of color, plenty of wit for the grown-ups — it all adds up to the most watchable children’s fantasy musical ever made.
Beneath it all, as I see it, lies a dark metaphor of the terrors of a girl growing up, leaving home, becoming a woman in a scary, male, adult world. She has flawed male role models to choose from: ranging from the strong but heartless, dumb but sweet, cowardly but cute, and the older man who claims wiz-dom.
It owes its theme to Alice in Wonderland, but from then on, the originality and universality sparkles. It is fun to see it as an in-parable of MGM: Judy is the exploited child / woman trying to escape from the fantasy world controlled by the wizard, Louis B. Mayer, the dream manipulator, and to go home for rest and sleep while Mayer keeps her working for him, awake with psychedelic drugs.
One minor downside of the films’ values which has always disturbed me: after her great adventure, Dorothy seems to have learned a lesson: "There’s no place like home." Apart from being sappy, that always struck me as somewhat reactionary; we should not seek "our heart’s desire" by escaping drab tedium and expanding our horizons. Maybe this is a secret political theme of isolationism, considering the film’s timing, an escape from the looming tornado of world war.
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington:
Columbia. Director: Frank Capra. Screenplay: Sidney Buchman (credits: Theodora Goes Wild, Lost Horizon, Holiday.) James Stewart, Jean Arthur, Claude Rains, Edward Arnold, Eugene Pallette,Thomas Mitchell, Harry Carey, H. B. Warner, Ruth Donnelly,
The unlikely possibility that naive idealism can overcome organized corruption is appealingly argued by Stewart and Capra. Suspension of disbelief is a must. As a genre, political films are rarely "great" because, if good they are timely and therefore become dated quickly. One of my favorites, State of the Union is later (1948) Capra. Seeing it today, it bears the Capra stamp of uplifting cynicism about manipulative politicians along with the sentimental hokum of American symbols of our goodness that I am a sucker for. Capra making a political film is like the remark about Sinatra singing a love ballad: "The jerk really believes all that bull!" And both make you believe, too.
A word about Jean Arthur, who was one of the treasures of the screwball comedy era (You Can’t Take It With You, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, The More The Merrier, and The Talk of the Town and Wilder’s later Foreign Affair). She is my fantasy of a perfect woman: bright, funny, ironic, tough but sentimental, painfully attractive to look at and listen to.
In You Can’t Take It With You, she and James Stewart have three scenes together that epitomize the essence of 1930's romantic comedy as filtered through the sentimental imagination of Frank Capra. Arthur plays Stewart’s secretary. She comes from a ditzy family which meets The Great Depression by accentuating their eccentricities and having a blast. His father is wealthy banker, Edward Arnold, who was Capra’s favorite heavy, a pompous powerful capitalist.
The first scene between the love birds is in the office; Jimmy holds Jean’s hands and coos to her so ardently that she can’t answer the phone. She has to nuzzle it with her nose to the desk and does half the scene with her hair facing the camera. The result is as sexy as it could be. The second scene has the two lovers sitting on a park bench, smooching, and Jimmy talking about his goofy dreams. Arthur mostly reacts, just looking at him as he speaks, and her face is to die for. The third scene is in a ritzy restaurant. Jimmy says he feels a scream rising from his toes, and fears he can’t hold it back. Jean scolds him, and becomes progressively alarmed as Jimmy’s face becomes more and more likely to scream. Suddenly, she screams. It is a hilarious scene, made of just a silly moment of anarchy, of the extreme talents of two wonderful entertainers, pretending to be and becoming a perfect couple.
In Mr. Smith, Jean Arthur evinces the same magical ability to show intelligence, sex appeal, screwball wit, and sentimentality, whether in successive scenes or simultaneous moments. If you want to find a primer on comedic romantic acting, Jean Arthur is the absolute master. (Her closest contemporary mimic is Meg Ryan – place them side by side and see who you prefer. No contest.)
Snow White:
Over all, I prefer Who Framed Roger Rabbit; but as the first of its genre, a full-length animated feature, it was certainly a landmark. "Whistle While You Work," "Some Day My Prince Will Come," Dopey, Prince Charming, the Wicked Witch, the velvety Disney animation touch, whistling and singing animal pals, the fairy tale for pre-adolescent girls. Disney copied the formula so often that it makes the first effort look trite when viewed again.
Stagecoach:
Director: John Ford. Screenplay: Dudley Nichols (other credits: The Informer, Bringing Up Baby) John Wayne, Thomas Mitchell, Claire Trevor, John Carradine, George Bancroft, Andy Devine, Donald Meek, Tim Holt (see below).
John Ford’s sweeping western vistas, and lean power of a young John Wayne. The film accumulates practically every Western cliché character and situation and somehow manages to be convincing and enjoyable throughout. Historically important, it made the western into an A movie, moving the genre and Wayne along with it, away from Saturday matinee hell. It was also the precursor of the "adult western" in which all the stock characters of westerns: dance hall girls, dudes, drunks, are depicted as more real people: prostitutes, homosexuals, tragic flotsam. It also contains the elements for the pattern of Ford’s myth making cinema: the creation of heroes (lone gunslingers, settlers, the cavalry) and villains (Indians, city slickers, bankers, bureaucrats, cowards).
How’s this for trivia: this is the second film on this list for one of the worst actors ever: the cavalry officer is Tim Holt, (one of the three leads in The Treasure of Sierra Madre). Holt also had the central role in Orson Welles’ flawed near masterpiece, The Magnificent Ambersons.
Wuthering Heights:
Goldwyn. Director: William Wyler. Screenplay adapted by Charles McArthur with Ben Hecht (whose screen credits define the Golden Age: Scarface, Viva Villa, Design For Living, Twentieth Century) Laurence Olivier, Merle Oberon, David Niven, Donald Crisp, Leo G. Carroll, Geraldine Fitzgerald, Cecil Kelloway.
Bijou was a lonely young girl who spent a lot of time in the local library reading novels which were on the shelf in alphabetical order by author; so she read all of Austin and the Brontes. When she grew up, we traveled in Europe. She found this novel — which she had loved reading as a pre-adolescent — in a bed and breakfast bin, and re-read it with great anticipation — and disappointment. As a grown woman, she was struck by her realization that the story actually reflects the transparent and immature repressed sexual fantasies of the Emily Bronte, who had been daughter of a stern minister living in pre-Victorian English isolation. The film, wildly romantic to its viewers in 1939, now seems hopelessly silly and over-the-top ... at least, until one considers Titanic.
Interestingly, the modern erotic story line (as in Unfaithful) twists this plot almost beyond recognition. In the modern women’s fantasy, she is in a stable, boring, sexless relationship and craves the dark, unruly, sexy Heathcliff type, has a wild affair with him, then it ends or doesn’t. Here, Cathy starts with Heathcliff, but drops him for the stuffed shirt, but he is the obsessed character who is fatally attracted to her. He pursues her to the point of destroying her life and his, until, on her death bed she admits her passionate love, her eternal tie to him.
Still, the production is first rate movie making. William Wyler directed, with Gregg Toland behind the camera, a script by Hecht and MacArthur, Alfred Newman’s music. They create a rich atmosphere of turbulent passions. Laurence Olivier shows his power in his dark chiseled looks and rich powerful voice, and Merle Oberon, never a great actress in a generation of great screen actresses is believable in the role of The Woman of 1939: vain, fragile, determined, mercurial, just like Vivian Leigh in GWTW and Bette Davis in Jezebel.
Like another tale of tragic juvenile love, Romeo And Juliet, the story continues to speak across generations of romantic girls. In the 90's it was filmed on the moors with more authentic atmosphere and sense of the era with Ralph Fiennes, Juliet Binoche and Colin Firth.
Then, as proof of its primary audience, MTV has recently updated the story to contemporary US teenville. Heathcliff became "Heath", a mysterious and sexy rock music composer and performer. "Cate" (again) marries the wealthy Edward, whose sister, Isabel, is tragically enamored of Heath. There is a lot of moaning, deep and wet kisses, commercials, and bad music. To cash in on the tweener’s romantic ideal of modern tragedy, Cate dies in childbirth this time (as in the novel), and later, Heath is shown riding his chopper with his and Cate’s child on the back, to the strains of some pop melody, while Cate’s spirit approves.
Dark Victory:
Warners. Exec. Producer: Hal. B. Wallis. Director: Edmund Goulding. Screenplay: Casey Robinson (also credited with Captain Blood, Tovarish, King’s Row, Pride Of The Yankees, Now, Voyager.) Bette Davis, George Brent, Geraldine Fitzgerald, Ronald Reagan, Humphrey Bogart. Score: Max Steiner (A famous story goes that Bette Davis asked the director if Steiner was going to underscore her final scene, in which she climbs a flight of stairs as blindness closes in, signaling her impending tragic death. When he hesitated, she ordered: "Either Max goes up those stairs, or I do. But I’ll be damned if I go up there with him.")
Bette Davis was a remarkable star. She was a unique sort of woman in films. Her personality was so powerful that she plowed through all her many unattractive defects to grab you despite your better judgment. She was at her best in soapy melodramas that she elevated to something that was almost human, through sheer determination and personality.
Dark Victory is a tearjerker of the most shameful sort, but is a good example of her power. Davis plays a spoiled heiress who leads a shallow life. Suddenly she develops headaches, double vision, and is cajoled into meeting the very serious George Brent, a brain surgeon. He operates on Bette’s brain, and fails to tell her that she is going to die in less than a year. Bette falls in love with George. Then she discovers the deception, rails at the world and George, finally gives in and marries him. They are happy for the few months they have together in wintry Vermont living a simple life and finding peace of mind. Then Bette feels the onset of the final stages of her "very rare" but convenient movie illness, in which there are no symptoms until a few hours before she is to die, when the world will grow dark. Bette faces the end courageously and alone (except for Steiner’s score), grateful for the love she has had.
The miracle is how compelling Davis makes this film. Though certainly not a beauty in the mold of Garbo, Hepburn, or many others, Davis manages to make herself riveting to look at. Her eyes, those Bette Davis Eyes, are her major attribute in film acting. They express everything. Her voice is sometimes metallic and overpowering, her mannerisms harsh and over-emoting. She moves about, wrings her hands, waves her cigarettes and punctuates her dialogue with vitriolic flair. But she is like a child who is so persistently aggressive that she demands your attention, forces you to take the trip with her, and finally to feel for her. She showed the same kind of power in most of her Bette Davis films.
Only Angels Have Wings:
Columbia. Howard Hawks directed a paean to flyers. Screenplay by Jules Furthman (also credited with The Big Sleep, To Have and Have Not, Bombshell, Mutiny On The Bounty). Starring Cary Grant, Jean Arthur, newcomer Rita Hayworth, and the ubiquitous Thomas Mitchell (who was in every other movie released that year). Score: Dimitri Tiomkin.
Hawks idealizes the between-the-wars masculine ideal, men of action who grieve with gallows humor, hard drinking, and yield only to women who can be pals as well as tolerant lovers.
Gunga Din:
R.K.O. Director: George Stevens. Screenplay: typical of the studio system, many writers worked without screen credit, including: William Faulkner, Ben Hecht, Dudley Nichols, Anthony Veiler. The story is credited to Hecht & MacArthur, who fashioned it from the Kipling poem. Joel Sayre & Fred Guiol got the screen credit. Starring Cary Grant, Victor McLaglen, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., Sam Jaffe, Eduardo Ciannelli, Joan Fontaine, Montagu Love, Robert Coote. Score: Alfred Newman. (One of the uncredited editors was John Sturges - later director of such as Bad Day At Black Rock, The Old Man And The Sea, The Magnificent Seven, The Great Escape). Cinematographer: Joseph August (Portrait Of Jennie).
A terrific adventure film, one of the templates that George Lucas and Steven Spielberg cite as influential to Star Wars and Indiana Jones. A buddy movie, a service comedy, a swashbuckler. Cary Grant, whose sophisticated screwball comedy chops had been established, now hit as an action star with dash and wit, Cockney charm, mixing it up with the gruff MacLaglen and debonair Fairbanks.
Viewed by today’s sensibilities, the clinker of English snobbery toward India, highlighted by darkened skinned Jaffe (a veteran of Yiddish theatre) and Italian actor Ciannelli, must be swallowed to enjoy the fun.
George Stevens, of course, is one of the great film makers of all time. Beginning in silents as cameraman, writer, then as director and producer, master of films in all genres: Alice Adams, Annie Oakley, Swing Time, Woman Of The Year, The More The Merrier, A Place In The Sun, Shane, Giant, The Diary Of Anne Frank.
Destry Rides Again:
Universal. Producer: Joe Pasternak (Anchors Aweigh, Director: George Marshall. Marlene Dietrich, James Stewart, Mischa Auer, Charles Wininger, Brian Donlevy, Una Merkel.
The anti-violent Western in which Stewart plays a pacifist as sheriff. Jimmy’s stammering boyishness mixes with Dietrich’s inflammatory sultriness producing very funny and sexy chemistry, especially in a scene in which she has a knock down cat fight with Una Merkel, which Jimmy tries to mediate.
At The Circus:
MGM. The Marx Brothers, Margaret Dumont, Eve Arden. Screenplay credited to Irving Brecher (other credits: Meet Me In St. Louis, The Life Of Riley), though as in all Marx films, it is hard to know how much the boys improvised.
The film is lesser Marx, certainly not on a par with the earlier A Night At The Opera for MGM, but there are the usual moments of insanity and pun-ishment of the language for which they are best remembered.
Babes In Arms:
MGM. Producer: Arthur Freed. Director: Busby Berkeley. Screenplay: Jack McGowan (Broadway Melody of 1940, Lady Be Good). Songs by Rodgers & Hart, Nacio Herb Brown. Mickey Rooney, Judy Garland.
The first and most original and exhuberant of the Berkeley / Rooney / Garland "lets put on a show" movies. Berkeley exploits their talents to the fullest, with energetic production numbers that make you tired merely watching them. Fame, High School Musical, and the zillion others of this genre owe their existence to this one.
The Women:
MGM. George Cukor. Screenplay: Anita Loos. (F. Scott Fitzgerald also contributed dialogue.) Norma Shearer, Rosalind Russell, Joan Crawford, Paulette Goddard, Joan Fontaine.
Claire Booth Luce’s play, adapted by Anita Loos (Gentlemen Prefer Blondes) with an all-star all women cast, is the most overt "woman’s picture" in an era that credibly boasts as the golden age of female actors and stories about women who would later be called liberated.
The writers and stars of the 1930's were molded by the social sensibilities of the 1920's when small town girls became "flappers" and "vamps", drank whiskey from flasks and in speakeasies, danced in short skirts, bobbed their hair, smoked cigarettes, and went to the big city to become independent. Movies of the 20's and 30's reflected and influenced this pop culture revolution. It wasn’t until the 1950's that women lost their bearings and reverted to the puritanical norm of pliant homemakers that required another revolution to free them from.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
"Slumdog Millionaire" (2008)
Pauline Kael, the longtime New Yorker film critic, was known for decrying the pompous critical barrier between "art" and "trash." Almost alone among serious critics of her time, she recognized the legitimacy of the popular film form, dictating that good trash is preferable to bad art. While she was credited with spotlighting European cinema’s achievement in raising the bar of realism and relevance, she also was able to appreciate what she called "movie movies." By that term she meant to laud the skillful creative efforts that produced films that make audiences glad to spend time and money watching them, even if they are not labeled as "art" or "important" in any way other than as entertainment. "Slumdog Millionaire" is, I think, the kind of film Kael would have enjoyed. She would have praised it despite its ultimate sentimentality, its low brow pop culture references, its mix of gritty reality and romantic fantasy.
Kael also would have observed that its story arc owes perhaps too much to Charles Dickens and even more to Warner Brothers Depression Era potboilers like "Angels With Dirty Faces" (1938), epics which trace the arduous path of street urchins. Kids from the New York ghetto grow to be priest, gangster, and girl between them. The gangster will save the lives of his childhood pals, sacrificing himself for their future.
The transparent manipulation of the audience to fear for the lives of children, she might have noticed, has been a staple of film making since Chaplin ("The Kid"). She also might have said that Steven Spielberg, to whom that kind of theme was a signature of his early movies, would have envied Danny Boyle’s picture. Recently, "City Of God" (2002), repeated the theme for the slums of Rio de Janeiro, with a sense of the violence of our time.
"Slumdog" follows the typical pattern, transposed to Bombay’s (now Mumbai) slums, but adds a bonus for Western audiences, as the odyssey of Jamal, Salim, and Latika not only takes us from Bombay to Agra and Delhi and back to Mumbai, it also traces India’s evolution from apparent hopelessness to high tech commercial power.
When I was there thirty five years ago, I never would have dreamed that a country with so much pervasive poverty could achieve anything near the prosperity that India has accomplished in this time. If the picture is anything more than wishful fantasy, the changes are amazing.
The film reminded me of the complex feelings I had during my month there: fascination, admiration, and at the same time, horror. Begging children, hustlers of all kinds, poverty so crushing that it takes your breath away, were all overwhelming.
I remember thinking of the irony when these children (depicted in the picture at the top of this post) who had been begging for "baksheesh" so pathetically, suddenly began to laugh at Bijou's blowfish faces, then demanded more to laugh at, and just as suddenly, lined up to have their picture taken.
"Slumdog" is about the miracle of hope against impossible odds, not just of survival, but of achieving happiness. It is a children's tale, yes. Maybe no less fantastic than "Harry Potter", but rooted in a real world we have to live in, it gives hope that there is a place for a feel good movie movie to entertain us as well as bring us closer together.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Hard times can be fun ... what filmmakers can learn from Depression era comedies
In a Sunday NY Times column, movie critic A. O. Scott questioned whether Hollywood will react to the current economic hard times as well as it did during The Great Depression. In truth, the widely acknowledged Golden Age of Hollywood actually produced mostly mindless trash to divert Depression audiences from their troubles. The studios rarely exhibited an interest in making audiences think seriously about social problems, at least not in the sorts of conscious efforts that marked the post-war era of "realism" in the movies.
However, many in the creative workforce of the time were anxious to comment on conditions, and some even squeezed into their plots some sympathy with the New Deal. Despite the strictures imposed by commercial concerns and the tight censorship of radical social, sexual, and political notions, they managed to slip some fairly subversive philosophy into their storytelling. For instance, the "Forgotten Man" number of Busby Berkeley’s "Golddiggers of 1933" was a rare example in the most frivolous of forms, the Hollywood version of the Broadway musical. Warner Brothers, the studio responsible for that film, was known for its dramas on subjects "ripped from the headlines" like "I Am A Fugitive From A Chain Gang" and "Dead End". They even dared a movie exposing the KKK, "Dark Legion". The studio’s gangster staples likewise contained story arcs that worked as commentary about poverty and crime. Of course, John Ford’s "The Grapes Of Wrath" is the best known example of the kind of socially aware filmmaking that, by the time of the Cold War, was pointed to as proof of a conspiracy of leftist influence in the movie business.
It was in comedies, especially the screwball comedy form, that the socially aware writers found the most palatable vehicle for smuggling progressive notions into an entertaining and very commercial product. Depression audiences lapped up story lines that skewered the pompous mores of the monied classes that were seen as smugly inattentive to the privations of the masses. The writers, many of whom had sprung from journalistic roots, contrived plots woven around love fables that allowed them to make points about class inequality through wryly satirical voices.
Frank Capra’s output during the decade epitomized and made the most lasting impact on the genre. His films were cleverly designed to appeal to Depression audiences, who could identify with the protagonist a woman or man who was toughened by the hard times, but became involved in romances that exposed an idealistic core of uplifting values. Though Capra is best remembered for the formula, others also found success.
The first time Capra toyed with this formula was in "Platinum Blonde" (1932), in which a wise-cracking newsman (Robert Johnson) allows himself to be temporarily seduced into becoming a pet of a society girl (Jean Harlow). When ridiculed by his pals as the "Cinderella Man," he walks out and finds himself, with the aid of his working girl pal (Loretta Young), finally writing a play about his experiences. Johnson’s performance, laced with witty, sardonic asides that flayed the foibles of the rich, was highly praised by critics; but he died shortly after the premiere, and remains a sadly forgotten pioneer of the genre.
In 1934, Capra joined again with scenarist Robert Riskin (who had written the snappy dialogue for "Platinum Blonde") in "It Happened One Night," a film that has provided the template for innumerable road romances up to the present day. A frisky heiress (Claudette Colbert) dives from her yacht to escape her overprotective father (Walter Connelly), intending to marry an aviator. Naive about life’s difficulties, she is helped by a cynical newsman (Clark Gable). Among the hoi polloi on a night bus, she gives what money she has to a boy whose mother has fainted for lack of food while she is traveling to look for work. On the road, she learns the facts of life for ordinary people in hard times as they scramble to hitch rides, fight hunger. She finds that money can’t buy true love. Extremely popular, the film was the first to sweep the Academy Awards - best actor, actress, director, screenplay, and picture, it remains one of the few comedies to achieve that distinction.
Capra and Riskin followed up with "Mr. Deeds Goes To Town" (1936) in which Gary Cooper played a small town eccentric who suddenly inherits millions and finds himself living in a New York mansion, surrounded by sycophants, con artists, sneaky lawyers, and pompous socialites. Jean Arthur is the working girl of the story, a news hound who is assigned to write stories ridiculing the new "Cinderella Man," pretending to be an out of work shop girl, but of course soon falls as hard for him as he for her. Boy loses girl when he discovers her deception. Disillusioned, he plans to go home to his small town, but is waylaid by a jobless would be assassin who decries the Cinderella Man’s frivolous waste of wealth while so many are starving. Deeds feeds the man and devises a plan to give his fortune to men willing to work. For this he is deemed insane and must defend himself in court.
Also released in 1936, "My Man Godfrey" (directed by Gregory La Cava from a script by Morrie Ryskind) is often cited as the quintessential screwball comedy, starring the perfect screwball actress, Carole Lombard, as Irene Bullock, the slightly off center young socialite daughter of a troubled businessman (Eugene Pallette) and airhead mother (Alice Brady). Bored society butterflies conduct a scavenger hunt, seeking a "forgotten man" in the shacks by the river. Godfrey Smith (William Powell), a fallen son of an upper class family, now reduced to homelessness, is the prize. Despite his scathing denunciation of the shallowness of his sponsors, Irene hires him as the family butler. While love blossoms between Godfrey and Irene, he discovers a purpose to his life, opening a restaurant to employ his homeless friends and restore their dignity, while saving his employers from financial disaster.
"Easy Living" (1937), directed by Mitchell Liesen from a script by Preston Sturges (who would later refine the screwball genre with his masterpieces, "The Palm Beach Story," The Lady Eve," "The Miracle Of Morgan Creek" and "Sullivan’s Travels"), begins with a banker (Edward Arnold) throwing his wife’s latest extravagance, a mink coat, out of the window. It falls on the head of a working girl (Jean Arthur), triggering a set of screwy events typical of the genre. Thinking she is the mistress of the banker, she is offered a luxury hotel suite, a car, a wardrobe. She meets the banker’s son (Ray Milland) who is working in the automat to rebel against his father and somehow it all works out.
Morrie Ryskind (no relation to Robert Riskin) is credited as writer of "Easy Living" as well as the Marx Brothers’ classics, "Cocoanuts", "A Night At The Opera" and "Room Service." In 1938, he adapted the Ferber / Kaufman play, "Stage Door" for Katherine Hepburn and Ginger Rogers. Hepburn plays an heiress who wants to be an actress, moves into a residential hotel for starving aspiring actresses, learns about the travails of young women struggling for independence in a cutthroat Depression market. The ensemble of wise cracking gals included RKO contract girl Lucille Ball, Eve Arden, and Ann Miller.
Also in 1938, Capra released his film of Riskin’s adaptation of the Kaufman and Hart play, "You Can’t Take It With You" which won Capra’s second Oscars as best director and and for best picture. The film starred James Stewart as son of a banker (Edward Arnold), in love with his secretary (Jean Arthur), whose family is like a commune of free spirited screwballs, led by the patriarch (Lionel Barrymore) who long ago gave up the rat race to enjoy life. The class barrier between the families is broken when the son breaks free and the banker is converted to seek peace of mind.
Released the same year, "Holiday" was directed by George Cukor from a screenplay credited to Donald Ogden Stuart and Sidney Buchman from a Philip Barry play. Johnny Case (Cary Grant) is a hard working stock broker who is turning 30 and wants to quit the rat race to travel for a year to find the meaning of life. He falls for "Julia Seton", not knowing she is the daughter of a wealthy financier. While Julia and her father plan their life after the marriage to disabuse him of his radical notion of abandoning the chase for wealth, her sister, Linda (Katherine Hepburn) encourages his dream. With aid from his bohemian academic friends (Edward Everett Horton and Jean Dixon) and her alcoholic brother Ned (Lew Ayres), Linda opposes her sister and father, in the process falling in love with Johnny and sailing away with him.
Social commentary during the era didn’t always apply to wealth or class distinctions. In "Theodora Goes Wild," Irene Dunne’s first foray into comedy, she is the straight laced member of a small town family of blue nosed ladies who is chosen as a spokesperson to prevent serialization of a scandalously sexy novel in the town’s newspaper. In fact, Theodora has written the novel under a pseudonym as revealed when she enter’s the office of her New York publisher. While there she meets an artist (Melvyn Douglas) who falls for her and tries to loosen her morals by getting her pleasantly snockered and showing her his etchings. When Theodora escapes, he follows her to her town and threatens to expose her secret. Eventually, he succeeds in freeing her from her puritanical fears, allowing her to thumb her nose at those which are out of joint.
Two notable movies of the day found comedic fodder in Soviet Russia. In "Tovarich" (1937) Claudette Colbert and Charles Boyer are Russian aristocrats living in Paris after the revolution. They are impoverished, even though they possess the czar’s fortune, which was entrusted to them in the event of collapse of the Bolsheviks. Evicted from their shabby flat, they find refuge as butler and maid to a Parisian banker and his family. Of course, their taste and manners are far superior to their employers and much of the comedy comes from the couple’s humility as servants contrasted with pretensions of the nouveau riche family. When the family discovers their true identity, the social confusion of the upstairs - downstairs variety. A guest arrives (Basil Rathbone) who is the Bolshevik commissar who had tortured them, failing to secure the fortune. Despite their hatred for him and the Soviet, the couple decide to turn over the money in order to aid mother Russia and, unburdened, decide to continue their roles as servants to the family.
Billy Wilder collaborated with Charles Brackett and director Ernst Lubitch for "Ninotchka" in 1939, the film in which Garbo laughs. She plays a dour Soviet emissary who has come to Paris to recover the crown jewels and finds love with a Parisian man-about-town (Melvyn Douglas).
It will be interesting to see whether our movie makers will find relevant ways to help us through the hard times to come.
However, many in the creative workforce of the time were anxious to comment on conditions, and some even squeezed into their plots some sympathy with the New Deal. Despite the strictures imposed by commercial concerns and the tight censorship of radical social, sexual, and political notions, they managed to slip some fairly subversive philosophy into their storytelling. For instance, the "Forgotten Man" number of Busby Berkeley’s "Golddiggers of 1933" was a rare example in the most frivolous of forms, the Hollywood version of the Broadway musical. Warner Brothers, the studio responsible for that film, was known for its dramas on subjects "ripped from the headlines" like "I Am A Fugitive From A Chain Gang" and "Dead End". They even dared a movie exposing the KKK, "Dark Legion". The studio’s gangster staples likewise contained story arcs that worked as commentary about poverty and crime. Of course, John Ford’s "The Grapes Of Wrath" is the best known example of the kind of socially aware filmmaking that, by the time of the Cold War, was pointed to as proof of a conspiracy of leftist influence in the movie business.
It was in comedies, especially the screwball comedy form, that the socially aware writers found the most palatable vehicle for smuggling progressive notions into an entertaining and very commercial product. Depression audiences lapped up story lines that skewered the pompous mores of the monied classes that were seen as smugly inattentive to the privations of the masses. The writers, many of whom had sprung from journalistic roots, contrived plots woven around love fables that allowed them to make points about class inequality through wryly satirical voices.
Frank Capra’s output during the decade epitomized and made the most lasting impact on the genre. His films were cleverly designed to appeal to Depression audiences, who could identify with the protagonist a woman or man who was toughened by the hard times, but became involved in romances that exposed an idealistic core of uplifting values. Though Capra is best remembered for the formula, others also found success.
The first time Capra toyed with this formula was in "Platinum Blonde" (1932), in which a wise-cracking newsman (Robert Johnson) allows himself to be temporarily seduced into becoming a pet of a society girl (Jean Harlow). When ridiculed by his pals as the "Cinderella Man," he walks out and finds himself, with the aid of his working girl pal (Loretta Young), finally writing a play about his experiences. Johnson’s performance, laced with witty, sardonic asides that flayed the foibles of the rich, was highly praised by critics; but he died shortly after the premiere, and remains a sadly forgotten pioneer of the genre.
In 1934, Capra joined again with scenarist Robert Riskin (who had written the snappy dialogue for "Platinum Blonde") in "It Happened One Night," a film that has provided the template for innumerable road romances up to the present day. A frisky heiress (Claudette Colbert) dives from her yacht to escape her overprotective father (Walter Connelly), intending to marry an aviator. Naive about life’s difficulties, she is helped by a cynical newsman (Clark Gable). Among the hoi polloi on a night bus, she gives what money she has to a boy whose mother has fainted for lack of food while she is traveling to look for work. On the road, she learns the facts of life for ordinary people in hard times as they scramble to hitch rides, fight hunger. She finds that money can’t buy true love. Extremely popular, the film was the first to sweep the Academy Awards - best actor, actress, director, screenplay, and picture, it remains one of the few comedies to achieve that distinction.
Capra and Riskin followed up with "Mr. Deeds Goes To Town" (1936) in which Gary Cooper played a small town eccentric who suddenly inherits millions and finds himself living in a New York mansion, surrounded by sycophants, con artists, sneaky lawyers, and pompous socialites. Jean Arthur is the working girl of the story, a news hound who is assigned to write stories ridiculing the new "Cinderella Man," pretending to be an out of work shop girl, but of course soon falls as hard for him as he for her. Boy loses girl when he discovers her deception. Disillusioned, he plans to go home to his small town, but is waylaid by a jobless would be assassin who decries the Cinderella Man’s frivolous waste of wealth while so many are starving. Deeds feeds the man and devises a plan to give his fortune to men willing to work. For this he is deemed insane and must defend himself in court.
Also released in 1936, "My Man Godfrey" (directed by Gregory La Cava from a script by Morrie Ryskind) is often cited as the quintessential screwball comedy, starring the perfect screwball actress, Carole Lombard, as Irene Bullock, the slightly off center young socialite daughter of a troubled businessman (Eugene Pallette) and airhead mother (Alice Brady). Bored society butterflies conduct a scavenger hunt, seeking a "forgotten man" in the shacks by the river. Godfrey Smith (William Powell), a fallen son of an upper class family, now reduced to homelessness, is the prize. Despite his scathing denunciation of the shallowness of his sponsors, Irene hires him as the family butler. While love blossoms between Godfrey and Irene, he discovers a purpose to his life, opening a restaurant to employ his homeless friends and restore their dignity, while saving his employers from financial disaster.
"Easy Living" (1937), directed by Mitchell Liesen from a script by Preston Sturges (who would later refine the screwball genre with his masterpieces, "The Palm Beach Story," The Lady Eve," "The Miracle Of Morgan Creek" and "Sullivan’s Travels"), begins with a banker (Edward Arnold) throwing his wife’s latest extravagance, a mink coat, out of the window. It falls on the head of a working girl (Jean Arthur), triggering a set of screwy events typical of the genre. Thinking she is the mistress of the banker, she is offered a luxury hotel suite, a car, a wardrobe. She meets the banker’s son (Ray Milland) who is working in the automat to rebel against his father and somehow it all works out.
Morrie Ryskind (no relation to Robert Riskin) is credited as writer of "Easy Living" as well as the Marx Brothers’ classics, "Cocoanuts", "A Night At The Opera" and "Room Service." In 1938, he adapted the Ferber / Kaufman play, "Stage Door" for Katherine Hepburn and Ginger Rogers. Hepburn plays an heiress who wants to be an actress, moves into a residential hotel for starving aspiring actresses, learns about the travails of young women struggling for independence in a cutthroat Depression market. The ensemble of wise cracking gals included RKO contract girl Lucille Ball, Eve Arden, and Ann Miller.
Also in 1938, Capra released his film of Riskin’s adaptation of the Kaufman and Hart play, "You Can’t Take It With You" which won Capra’s second Oscars as best director and and for best picture. The film starred James Stewart as son of a banker (Edward Arnold), in love with his secretary (Jean Arthur), whose family is like a commune of free spirited screwballs, led by the patriarch (Lionel Barrymore) who long ago gave up the rat race to enjoy life. The class barrier between the families is broken when the son breaks free and the banker is converted to seek peace of mind.
Released the same year, "Holiday" was directed by George Cukor from a screenplay credited to Donald Ogden Stuart and Sidney Buchman from a Philip Barry play. Johnny Case (Cary Grant) is a hard working stock broker who is turning 30 and wants to quit the rat race to travel for a year to find the meaning of life. He falls for "Julia Seton", not knowing she is the daughter of a wealthy financier. While Julia and her father plan their life after the marriage to disabuse him of his radical notion of abandoning the chase for wealth, her sister, Linda (Katherine Hepburn) encourages his dream. With aid from his bohemian academic friends (Edward Everett Horton and Jean Dixon) and her alcoholic brother Ned (Lew Ayres), Linda opposes her sister and father, in the process falling in love with Johnny and sailing away with him.
Social commentary during the era didn’t always apply to wealth or class distinctions. In "Theodora Goes Wild," Irene Dunne’s first foray into comedy, she is the straight laced member of a small town family of blue nosed ladies who is chosen as a spokesperson to prevent serialization of a scandalously sexy novel in the town’s newspaper. In fact, Theodora has written the novel under a pseudonym as revealed when she enter’s the office of her New York publisher. While there she meets an artist (Melvyn Douglas) who falls for her and tries to loosen her morals by getting her pleasantly snockered and showing her his etchings. When Theodora escapes, he follows her to her town and threatens to expose her secret. Eventually, he succeeds in freeing her from her puritanical fears, allowing her to thumb her nose at those which are out of joint.
Two notable movies of the day found comedic fodder in Soviet Russia. In "Tovarich" (1937) Claudette Colbert and Charles Boyer are Russian aristocrats living in Paris after the revolution. They are impoverished, even though they possess the czar’s fortune, which was entrusted to them in the event of collapse of the Bolsheviks. Evicted from their shabby flat, they find refuge as butler and maid to a Parisian banker and his family. Of course, their taste and manners are far superior to their employers and much of the comedy comes from the couple’s humility as servants contrasted with pretensions of the nouveau riche family. When the family discovers their true identity, the social confusion of the upstairs - downstairs variety. A guest arrives (Basil Rathbone) who is the Bolshevik commissar who had tortured them, failing to secure the fortune. Despite their hatred for him and the Soviet, the couple decide to turn over the money in order to aid mother Russia and, unburdened, decide to continue their roles as servants to the family.
Billy Wilder collaborated with Charles Brackett and director Ernst Lubitch for "Ninotchka" in 1939, the film in which Garbo laughs. She plays a dour Soviet emissary who has come to Paris to recover the crown jewels and finds love with a Parisian man-about-town (Melvyn Douglas).
It will be interesting to see whether our movie makers will find relevant ways to help us through the hard times to come.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Revolutionary Road (2008)
This movie about a couple in the throes of marital crisis in the 1950's is strangely familiar to me. The Wheelers have turned 30, an age when you fear that you have become what you are always going to be - the potential for more than settled normality is slipping away. In desperation, they contrive to move to Paris to save themselves.
I was 31, Bjou 29 in 1974, when, after a year of marriage, we left our friends - who were having their houses and children, and our secure careers to which we were not yet irrevocably committed, and traveled the world for a year.
After four months in Asia, we lived in a house outside of Paris which belonged to Bijou’s uncle. After spending time with Bijou’s cousin and her husband and child, I wrote this in my journal:
"Last night was another with Gerard and Hélene. Being with them is an odd experience. I suppose it is what is meant by viewing another way of life. We have done a lot of that during our trip. One of the avowed purposes of the travel was to break out of our life style which we found lacking in something: maybe an environment of stimulation of growth, though I blush to use such clinical terms. We have viewed several other people who were sufficiently like us to allow us to step imaginatively into their roles and taste their wine. Some we envied, others felt superior to, all we found lacking in the final accounting, for our model.
"I guess the trouble is we do not know or cannot define what it is we really want and what we are willing to do to get it. We are naturally indecisive as individuals, and as a pair, we are both lazy and passive. Perhaps answers will come to us. We are intuitive, sensitive, bright, willing to learn and experience. We already have some answers and await, albeit impatiently, the rest."
The Wheelers also thought they deserved better than the life they had fallen into, but had neither the passion, talent, or courage to break away. April (Kate Winslet) is a failed actress, whose performance in a community production of "The Petrified Forest" as Gabrielle, the desert waitress with dreams of going to Paris begins her downfall. Now she must face the abyss of a life as a suburban housewife and mother, and all that implied in the 1950's. Her husband, Frank (Leonardo DiCaprio) is also trapped, commuting with the other men in grey flannel suits to a stultifyingly boring office job, where the only potential for diversion is a fling with a vulnerable young secretary (Zoe Kazan) and three martini lunches.
April, without a dream of her own, tries to escape what she senses to be a life of quiet desperation, devises the Paris plan to revive what attracted her to Frank, a sense that he wanted to be better than mediocre. Frank, tragically, doesn't have the courage, and April's disppointment is fatal.
Unlike the Wheelers, we had our time in Paris and returned, ready to resume our place in the swarm, but with a far greater confidence that we were in fact different from the others. The life became one we chose, after testing many others. Our experiences sealed a bond that made us far stronger than we would have been had we never broken free.
I was 31, Bjou 29 in 1974, when, after a year of marriage, we left our friends - who were having their houses and children, and our secure careers to which we were not yet irrevocably committed, and traveled the world for a year.
After four months in Asia, we lived in a house outside of Paris which belonged to Bijou’s uncle. After spending time with Bijou’s cousin and her husband and child, I wrote this in my journal:
"Last night was another with Gerard and Hélene. Being with them is an odd experience. I suppose it is what is meant by viewing another way of life. We have done a lot of that during our trip. One of the avowed purposes of the travel was to break out of our life style which we found lacking in something: maybe an environment of stimulation of growth, though I blush to use such clinical terms. We have viewed several other people who were sufficiently like us to allow us to step imaginatively into their roles and taste their wine. Some we envied, others felt superior to, all we found lacking in the final accounting, for our model.
"I guess the trouble is we do not know or cannot define what it is we really want and what we are willing to do to get it. We are naturally indecisive as individuals, and as a pair, we are both lazy and passive. Perhaps answers will come to us. We are intuitive, sensitive, bright, willing to learn and experience. We already have some answers and await, albeit impatiently, the rest."
The Wheelers also thought they deserved better than the life they had fallen into, but had neither the passion, talent, or courage to break away. April (Kate Winslet) is a failed actress, whose performance in a community production of "The Petrified Forest" as Gabrielle, the desert waitress with dreams of going to Paris begins her downfall. Now she must face the abyss of a life as a suburban housewife and mother, and all that implied in the 1950's. Her husband, Frank (Leonardo DiCaprio) is also trapped, commuting with the other men in grey flannel suits to a stultifyingly boring office job, where the only potential for diversion is a fling with a vulnerable young secretary (Zoe Kazan) and three martini lunches.
April, without a dream of her own, tries to escape what she senses to be a life of quiet desperation, devises the Paris plan to revive what attracted her to Frank, a sense that he wanted to be better than mediocre. Frank, tragically, doesn't have the courage, and April's disppointment is fatal.
Unlike the Wheelers, we had our time in Paris and returned, ready to resume our place in the swarm, but with a far greater confidence that we were in fact different from the others. The life became one we chose, after testing many others. Our experiences sealed a bond that made us far stronger than we would have been had we never broken free.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
"The Lovers" ("Les Amants") (1958) - you know it when you see it.
When I was in law school, the most controversial battleground of the 1st Amendment was not school prayer or press freedom or even religious preferences. It was censorship of the arts, focusing on the definition of "obscenity." States passed laws which tried to proscribe sexual content, especially in motion pictures, and particularly in the European imports that were infesting art houses all over the country.
Challenged by the commercial disaster of television, American filmmakers in the 1950's struggled to produce movies with "adult" content, stretching the boundaries of taste and "morals". But most of the studios didn’t dare to cross any lines. Douglas Sirk’s suburban melodramas talked about infidelity, but no filmmaker dared to show it in any explicit scene. The age-old devices of cameras pulling away from closing doors, showing waves crashing on the shore, and other heavily coded but well understood substitutes for sex scenes were still needed.
The rigid Hays Code, Legion of Decency, The Catholic Church and other arbiters of taste and morals, supported by laws in many states, were simply too powerful. While definitions of obscenity varied with each organization and statute, any nudity or showing of the act of sex was always covered.
In 1958, the U.S. Supreme Court, in Jacobellis v. Ohio, finally overturned Ohio’s ban on the release of a motion picture on grounds of obscenity. It is from this case, the Justice Potter Stewart’s often quoted concurring opinion was given. Stewart wrote that defining obscenity was an almost impossible task. He couldn’t do it with precision and without trampling on artistic freedom. In effect, he wrote, the most he could say was that he knew it when he saw it, and the film in question was definitely not obscene, even though it contained brief nudity and a sex scene.
The movie in question was called "The Lovers" ("Les Amants"), directed by Louis Malle. It had been a sensation in Europe and was a critical and commercial success. It made both the leading actress, Jeanne Moreau, and its director, superstars. Malle’s success at 25 heralded the "New Wave" of young French directors who followed in quick succession to revolutionize the art of film: Clouzot, Godard, Truffault.
I just watched "The Lovers" on DVD and, placed in its time, can understand what all the fuss was about. It is a rather mundane story of a provincial haute bourgeois marriage going sour. The young wife is bored with her inattentive older husband, travels frequently to Paris where she is having an affair with an attractive man of her own social set, who bores her somewhat less. The husband becomes annoyed with her frequent absences, and is possibly suspicious about an affair though he is too snooty to confront her. It is hinted that he too is meandering, with a woman who works for him. The husband insists that she invite her Paris friends to visit their country house. On the day they are to arrive, the wife’s car breaks down and she accepts a lift from a young man who has rejected his bourgeois roots and the social pretense that money and position afford. At first she is annoyed by the young man, but eventually he impresses her with his carefree air.
In a classically romantic sequence, she roams the gardens in the night and encounters the young man, who pursues her. They fall in love and decide to run away together. Back in the house, the wife kisses her young daughter in her bed, and dreamily takes her new lover to her bedroom There follows a passionate, though tastefully (by today’s standards quite mild) love scene in which the camera does not – as Malle commented — move to the window at the moment of truth, but rather lingers during the consummation of their love, including a close-up of Moreau’s face as she whispers repeatedly and more and more intensely, "Mon amour, mon amour," as she reaches orgasm. There are more scenes of the couple cuddling, in bed and in the bath and back in the bed until the sun rises. They then get into his car and leave.
Absent the historical context, the movie doesn’t qualify as a great film. Fifty years of sex filled movies about bored housewives having affairs have steeled me against this ancient relic, which contains the scenes I've seen so often that that I had to keep reminding myself that this movie created the clichés. Even considering that, it doesn’t do what Malle seems to have wanted. Moreau’s jump from unsatisfied ennui to passionate liberated woman seems too sudden. He fails to prepare us adequately for the gauzy romance that she finds in the idyllic garden. He stated that he wanted to capture love at first sight, but as the scene progressed, I kept thinking that this woman was playacting at love, doubted that she would follow through, despite her contented smiles. Her later work, especially as Catherine in "Jules And Jim", were far more convincing portrayals of the women she came to epitomize. Yet, as the first slap on the face to the bourgeois mind set, it is still retains some of its power.
European censors objected, not only to the explicit sex scene, which was perhaps the first of its kind in a mainstream popular release, but even more vehemently to the values expressed by the woman’s conduct, leaving her child behind while she pursues real love. Notably, it was not the story of adultery that was found objectionable, but rather the subversion of family values by a woman who dares to abandon her child in a loveless marriage and who appears to be content at the fade out, as if the filmmaker approved of her actions.
The story Malle chose was based on an 18th Century novel (written by a contemporary of LeClos, who wrote "Les Liaisons Dangereuses."). Although European literature contained a tradition of similar stories, notably "Madame Bovary" and "Anna Karenina," the opprobrium that this movie inspired is proof of just how hide-bound the culture had become in the 1950's.
Challenged by the commercial disaster of television, American filmmakers in the 1950's struggled to produce movies with "adult" content, stretching the boundaries of taste and "morals". But most of the studios didn’t dare to cross any lines. Douglas Sirk’s suburban melodramas talked about infidelity, but no filmmaker dared to show it in any explicit scene. The age-old devices of cameras pulling away from closing doors, showing waves crashing on the shore, and other heavily coded but well understood substitutes for sex scenes were still needed.
The rigid Hays Code, Legion of Decency, The Catholic Church and other arbiters of taste and morals, supported by laws in many states, were simply too powerful. While definitions of obscenity varied with each organization and statute, any nudity or showing of the act of sex was always covered.
In 1958, the U.S. Supreme Court, in Jacobellis v. Ohio, finally overturned Ohio’s ban on the release of a motion picture on grounds of obscenity. It is from this case, the Justice Potter Stewart’s often quoted concurring opinion was given. Stewart wrote that defining obscenity was an almost impossible task. He couldn’t do it with precision and without trampling on artistic freedom. In effect, he wrote, the most he could say was that he knew it when he saw it, and the film in question was definitely not obscene, even though it contained brief nudity and a sex scene.
The movie in question was called "The Lovers" ("Les Amants"), directed by Louis Malle. It had been a sensation in Europe and was a critical and commercial success. It made both the leading actress, Jeanne Moreau, and its director, superstars. Malle’s success at 25 heralded the "New Wave" of young French directors who followed in quick succession to revolutionize the art of film: Clouzot, Godard, Truffault.
I just watched "The Lovers" on DVD and, placed in its time, can understand what all the fuss was about. It is a rather mundane story of a provincial haute bourgeois marriage going sour. The young wife is bored with her inattentive older husband, travels frequently to Paris where she is having an affair with an attractive man of her own social set, who bores her somewhat less. The husband becomes annoyed with her frequent absences, and is possibly suspicious about an affair though he is too snooty to confront her. It is hinted that he too is meandering, with a woman who works for him. The husband insists that she invite her Paris friends to visit their country house. On the day they are to arrive, the wife’s car breaks down and she accepts a lift from a young man who has rejected his bourgeois roots and the social pretense that money and position afford. At first she is annoyed by the young man, but eventually he impresses her with his carefree air.
In a classically romantic sequence, she roams the gardens in the night and encounters the young man, who pursues her. They fall in love and decide to run away together. Back in the house, the wife kisses her young daughter in her bed, and dreamily takes her new lover to her bedroom There follows a passionate, though tastefully (by today’s standards quite mild) love scene in which the camera does not – as Malle commented — move to the window at the moment of truth, but rather lingers during the consummation of their love, including a close-up of Moreau’s face as she whispers repeatedly and more and more intensely, "Mon amour, mon amour," as she reaches orgasm. There are more scenes of the couple cuddling, in bed and in the bath and back in the bed until the sun rises. They then get into his car and leave.
Absent the historical context, the movie doesn’t qualify as a great film. Fifty years of sex filled movies about bored housewives having affairs have steeled me against this ancient relic, which contains the scenes I've seen so often that that I had to keep reminding myself that this movie created the clichés. Even considering that, it doesn’t do what Malle seems to have wanted. Moreau’s jump from unsatisfied ennui to passionate liberated woman seems too sudden. He fails to prepare us adequately for the gauzy romance that she finds in the idyllic garden. He stated that he wanted to capture love at first sight, but as the scene progressed, I kept thinking that this woman was playacting at love, doubted that she would follow through, despite her contented smiles. Her later work, especially as Catherine in "Jules And Jim", were far more convincing portrayals of the women she came to epitomize. Yet, as the first slap on the face to the bourgeois mind set, it is still retains some of its power.
European censors objected, not only to the explicit sex scene, which was perhaps the first of its kind in a mainstream popular release, but even more vehemently to the values expressed by the woman’s conduct, leaving her child behind while she pursues real love. Notably, it was not the story of adultery that was found objectionable, but rather the subversion of family values by a woman who dares to abandon her child in a loveless marriage and who appears to be content at the fade out, as if the filmmaker approved of her actions.
The story Malle chose was based on an 18th Century novel (written by a contemporary of LeClos, who wrote "Les Liaisons Dangereuses."). Although European literature contained a tradition of similar stories, notably "Madame Bovary" and "Anna Karenina," the opprobrium that this movie inspired is proof of just how hide-bound the culture had become in the 1950's.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
The Cinema of politics and politics of cinema
"Gabriel Over The White House" (1933) might have been the primer on which Oliver Stone learned his ABZ's. At its heart, it is a political tract designed by William Randolph Hearst, purporting to tell the soon-to-be sworn in president Franklin Roosevelt how to beat The Depression and create world peace. It has been praised and condemned ever since - by the left and right - as protofascist, protocommunist, proto-benevolent dictatorship, and quasi-Christian propaganda.
It is as strange a film as a Hollywood Studio (MGM) ever produced. Gregory La Cava, better known for comedies (including W.C. Fields' movies), directed rather hurriedly, from a script credited to Cary Wilson, but based on a book by an Englishman who called himself Tweed. In fact, Hearst financed the film and is said to have personally written some of the speeches. Hearst supposedly submitted the script to FDR, who himself made some changes and signaled his approval to Hearst, who had supported his candidacy.
Walter Huston plays "Juddson Hammond," a party hack who wins the presidency the old fashioned way, by making promises he never intends to keep. He has a mistress (like Harding), refuses to be quoted by the press (like Coolidge), and considers every crisis, such as millions of unemployed marchers and rampant gangsterism, as "local problems" (like Hoover).
One day, he speeds his car over a cliff, and emerges from a coma a changed man, having seen a vision of Gabriel and / or Lincoln. He now fires his cabinet cronies, joins the masses of men marching on Washington, announcing the creation of an "Army Of Construction," a massive public works project to carry the nation's economy until private enterprise recovers.
When Congress rebels and threatens to impeach the president, he announces that Congress must "adjourn" or he will declare martial law. He admits to adopting dictatorial powers in order to preserve what he calls Jefferson's definition of democracy - goverment on behalf of the people.
He then invites to the White House the nation's leading gangster, offers to send him "home" to his country of origin, and when the gangster answers by sending a car full of henchment to riddle the White House with machinegun bullets, the president creates a federal police force which assaults the mobsters, tries them in military courts martial, free from "technicalities" like habeas corpus. They are quickly executed by firing squad in the shadow of the Statue of Liberty.
The president then calls the leaders of all nations to a conference aboard a U.S. naval warship and asks them to repay their war debts. When they plead poverty, he reminds them that they have used their resources to build armaments that will insure a future war. He threatens them with American military might. As a demonstration, American planes sink two obsolete battleships in view of the diplomats (like Billy Mitchell's demonstration in the 1920's).
The president demands that they sign a compact for world peace, predicting that the alternative will be a war that destroys all their cities and ends civilization.
As the nations all sign the document insuring lasting peace, the president's work is done. Gabriel calls once again and he dies, "one of the greatest men who ever lived."
As screwy as the plot is, the film accurately reflects the sentiments of a large portion of American thought at the time of its release. The Great Depression was at its depth, 25% or more unemployed; thousands of banks failing, taking uninsured life savings with them; farms and homes in foreclosure. Capitalism had no clue, democratic government was frozen in fear.
The crisis demanded new ideas, cries for any action, however radical. But the only new ideas that seemed to be feasible were those that made the trains run on time in fascist Italy, the five year plans of the Soviet Russian workers paradise, and the newly empowered National Socialism in Germany.
Mainstream political thinkers admitted the bankruptcy of the American consitutional system and conceded that a period of emergency dictatorial power was the only solution.
F.D.R.'s apparent approval of the notions expressed in the script of this film and the language he used in his Inaugural Address, referring to the need for emergency powers, seemed to signal his willingness to assume dicatorial powers. Indeed, over the 12 years of his presidency, the claim would be made many times that he had done so.
But the fact is that F.D.R. always used the democratic process to carry out his policies. He persuaded, created consensus, compromised over and over with Congress, business, local governments, foreign leaders, even his own wife who wanted quicker reforms. Unlike Hitler, he never burned his Reichstag, never resorted to a secret police.
F.D.R. ruled by sleight of hand rather than an iron fist. He was a "confidence man" in the literal sense, inspiring confidence even when all the evidence should have inspired fear. "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself" is a motto that was nonsensical on its face. But starving people cheered him.
In this trait, he equaled Hitler. Sarving Germans cheered Hitler, too, when he told them that though they had been defeated, humiliated, impoverished, they were a great nation which would rise to dominate the world.
"Gabriel Over The White House" was supposed to be Hearst's blueprint for an American saviour. F.D.R. conned Hearst but never succombed to the temptations of power as Hearst outlined. The megalomaniacal magnate quickly became disillusioned with F.D.R. and turned to Herr Hitler whose leadership style was more consistent with the Hearst way of doing things.
It is as strange a film as a Hollywood Studio (MGM) ever produced. Gregory La Cava, better known for comedies (including W.C. Fields' movies), directed rather hurriedly, from a script credited to Cary Wilson, but based on a book by an Englishman who called himself Tweed. In fact, Hearst financed the film and is said to have personally written some of the speeches. Hearst supposedly submitted the script to FDR, who himself made some changes and signaled his approval to Hearst, who had supported his candidacy.
Walter Huston plays "Juddson Hammond," a party hack who wins the presidency the old fashioned way, by making promises he never intends to keep. He has a mistress (like Harding), refuses to be quoted by the press (like Coolidge), and considers every crisis, such as millions of unemployed marchers and rampant gangsterism, as "local problems" (like Hoover).
One day, he speeds his car over a cliff, and emerges from a coma a changed man, having seen a vision of Gabriel and / or Lincoln. He now fires his cabinet cronies, joins the masses of men marching on Washington, announcing the creation of an "Army Of Construction," a massive public works project to carry the nation's economy until private enterprise recovers.
When Congress rebels and threatens to impeach the president, he announces that Congress must "adjourn" or he will declare martial law. He admits to adopting dictatorial powers in order to preserve what he calls Jefferson's definition of democracy - goverment on behalf of the people.
He then invites to the White House the nation's leading gangster, offers to send him "home" to his country of origin, and when the gangster answers by sending a car full of henchment to riddle the White House with machinegun bullets, the president creates a federal police force which assaults the mobsters, tries them in military courts martial, free from "technicalities" like habeas corpus. They are quickly executed by firing squad in the shadow of the Statue of Liberty.
The president then calls the leaders of all nations to a conference aboard a U.S. naval warship and asks them to repay their war debts. When they plead poverty, he reminds them that they have used their resources to build armaments that will insure a future war. He threatens them with American military might. As a demonstration, American planes sink two obsolete battleships in view of the diplomats (like Billy Mitchell's demonstration in the 1920's).
The president demands that they sign a compact for world peace, predicting that the alternative will be a war that destroys all their cities and ends civilization.
As the nations all sign the document insuring lasting peace, the president's work is done. Gabriel calls once again and he dies, "one of the greatest men who ever lived."
As screwy as the plot is, the film accurately reflects the sentiments of a large portion of American thought at the time of its release. The Great Depression was at its depth, 25% or more unemployed; thousands of banks failing, taking uninsured life savings with them; farms and homes in foreclosure. Capitalism had no clue, democratic government was frozen in fear.
The crisis demanded new ideas, cries for any action, however radical. But the only new ideas that seemed to be feasible were those that made the trains run on time in fascist Italy, the five year plans of the Soviet Russian workers paradise, and the newly empowered National Socialism in Germany.
Mainstream political thinkers admitted the bankruptcy of the American consitutional system and conceded that a period of emergency dictatorial power was the only solution.
F.D.R.'s apparent approval of the notions expressed in the script of this film and the language he used in his Inaugural Address, referring to the need for emergency powers, seemed to signal his willingness to assume dicatorial powers. Indeed, over the 12 years of his presidency, the claim would be made many times that he had done so.
But the fact is that F.D.R. always used the democratic process to carry out his policies. He persuaded, created consensus, compromised over and over with Congress, business, local governments, foreign leaders, even his own wife who wanted quicker reforms. Unlike Hitler, he never burned his Reichstag, never resorted to a secret police.
F.D.R. ruled by sleight of hand rather than an iron fist. He was a "confidence man" in the literal sense, inspiring confidence even when all the evidence should have inspired fear. "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself" is a motto that was nonsensical on its face. But starving people cheered him.
In this trait, he equaled Hitler. Sarving Germans cheered Hitler, too, when he told them that though they had been defeated, humiliated, impoverished, they were a great nation which would rise to dominate the world.
"Gabriel Over The White House" was supposed to be Hearst's blueprint for an American saviour. F.D.R. conned Hearst but never succombed to the temptations of power as Hearst outlined. The megalomaniacal magnate quickly became disillusioned with F.D.R. and turned to Herr Hitler whose leadership style was more consistent with the Hearst way of doing things.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Michael Clayton (2007)
I usually can’t stomach lawyer movies. Almost everyone I’ve seen is either offensively unrealistic or unrealistically offensive. I especially despise the films that purport to expose some real flaw in "the system" but distorts the facts or law claiming "artistic license" to make its point.
I don’t mind the "Perry Mason" kind of fantasy because they are so obviously kitchy, except that ever since that show, it has been necessary for judges to remind prospective jurors that it isn’t the obligation of defense lawyers to force the true guilty party to jump up and confess in the third act.
Now comes "Michael Clayton." This is a fairly typical lawyer movie in many ways. The big civil firm is defending an evil agri-chemical client in a billion dollar lawsuit against cancer victims. Thus, the lawyers are depicted as scum.
That’s to be expected. And the big event that triggers the plot crisis is a straight steal from Sidney Lumet’s classic, "Network." The lead litigator for the firm, after six years of battle, suddenly goes bananas — he’s mad as hell and he’s not gonna take it anymore. So in the middle of a deposition, he claims love for the plaintiff, strips off his clothes and chases her through the parking lot (or so we are told — the director had the good sense to withhold the scene of Tom Wilkenson naked.)
Later, the movie becomes a thriller, with surveillance, murder, a car bomb ... none of that is too interesting to me.
No, the one element I latched onto was the idea of the eponymous Michael Clayton, himself. See, he’s the guy in the firm who is given all the "dirty" jobs, we are told. He’s "the fixer," a self-described "janitor" who cleans up all the messes. When a well-heeled client is facing a scandal, he makes the payoff, does the cover-up. He fixes the tickets, presumably arranges bribes, does all the unethical stuff so the partners don’t dirty their manicured hands.
One of the things he does is refer cases to criminal lawyers. That’s something I know a bit about, because I have been one of the criminal lawyers to whom other lawyers have referred clients.
In my experience, there is nothing dirty or sinister about this practice. Most ordinary people don’t know criminal lawyers. Some do know civil lawyers. They’ve had divorces or other accidents of life and when they or someone they know get into trouble, they call the lawyer they know. Some of these lawyers are sensible enough to know how much they don’t know about the arcane specialty of criminal law, and so refer these cases to lawyers they know.
Now, I am sure that at a level far "higher" than my income bracket, there are those who look for criminal lawyers to "fix" problems. I’ve known a few who traveled a shadowy path, so close to dope dealers and pimps that they were engulfed into that world. It was a 60's & 70's fast lane thing for some and a few didn’t survive.
There were others who traded on reputations for being a "fixer" but were, in the end, pretenders. There was a guy who was famous in the small world of L.A. criminal lawyers. He was an outrageous appearing little man, even for the outrageous times, with purple shirt and lavender tie, high heel boots. In the old Hall of Justice, the elevator operators waited for him, greeted him and told everyone who he was. Around Christmas time, he tipped the girls $25. My boss in the PD office smiled slyly. "How much do you think he’s giving the clerks and the judges?"
One day, the lawyer strolled into the courtroom where I was working. We PD’s were waiting to get our cases heard and there were other private counsel waiting as well. But when this guy came in (let’s call him "Harry") the clerk called his case and the judge called him up to the bench for a private meeting.
"Harry" patted his frightened client on the back and went up to the bench. He whispered to the judge. I could hear him plainly from a few feet away. Harry told the judge the latest joke he’d heard. The judge laughed aloud. Harry walked back toward his client and winked, signaling slyly. The judge granted the extension to pay the fine or whatever it was that Harry was requesting. There was nothing unusual in this. The judge would have done it without the whispers. But Harry’s client and many in the audience were convinced that Harry had the "fix."
The more I watched George Clooney be "Michael Clayton," though, the more I thought of how many times I’ve felt like the "fixer." The tag is implied in social conversation, when acquaintances ask those annoying questions about how it feels to get a guilty person off.
It is fatiguing to know you’re admired by some for your skills at a dirty trade.
I don’t mind the "Perry Mason" kind of fantasy because they are so obviously kitchy, except that ever since that show, it has been necessary for judges to remind prospective jurors that it isn’t the obligation of defense lawyers to force the true guilty party to jump up and confess in the third act.
Now comes "Michael Clayton." This is a fairly typical lawyer movie in many ways. The big civil firm is defending an evil agri-chemical client in a billion dollar lawsuit against cancer victims. Thus, the lawyers are depicted as scum.
That’s to be expected. And the big event that triggers the plot crisis is a straight steal from Sidney Lumet’s classic, "Network." The lead litigator for the firm, after six years of battle, suddenly goes bananas — he’s mad as hell and he’s not gonna take it anymore. So in the middle of a deposition, he claims love for the plaintiff, strips off his clothes and chases her through the parking lot (or so we are told — the director had the good sense to withhold the scene of Tom Wilkenson naked.)
Later, the movie becomes a thriller, with surveillance, murder, a car bomb ... none of that is too interesting to me.
No, the one element I latched onto was the idea of the eponymous Michael Clayton, himself. See, he’s the guy in the firm who is given all the "dirty" jobs, we are told. He’s "the fixer," a self-described "janitor" who cleans up all the messes. When a well-heeled client is facing a scandal, he makes the payoff, does the cover-up. He fixes the tickets, presumably arranges bribes, does all the unethical stuff so the partners don’t dirty their manicured hands.
One of the things he does is refer cases to criminal lawyers. That’s something I know a bit about, because I have been one of the criminal lawyers to whom other lawyers have referred clients.
In my experience, there is nothing dirty or sinister about this practice. Most ordinary people don’t know criminal lawyers. Some do know civil lawyers. They’ve had divorces or other accidents of life and when they or someone they know get into trouble, they call the lawyer they know. Some of these lawyers are sensible enough to know how much they don’t know about the arcane specialty of criminal law, and so refer these cases to lawyers they know.
Now, I am sure that at a level far "higher" than my income bracket, there are those who look for criminal lawyers to "fix" problems. I’ve known a few who traveled a shadowy path, so close to dope dealers and pimps that they were engulfed into that world. It was a 60's & 70's fast lane thing for some and a few didn’t survive.
There were others who traded on reputations for being a "fixer" but were, in the end, pretenders. There was a guy who was famous in the small world of L.A. criminal lawyers. He was an outrageous appearing little man, even for the outrageous times, with purple shirt and lavender tie, high heel boots. In the old Hall of Justice, the elevator operators waited for him, greeted him and told everyone who he was. Around Christmas time, he tipped the girls $25. My boss in the PD office smiled slyly. "How much do you think he’s giving the clerks and the judges?"
One day, the lawyer strolled into the courtroom where I was working. We PD’s were waiting to get our cases heard and there were other private counsel waiting as well. But when this guy came in (let’s call him "Harry") the clerk called his case and the judge called him up to the bench for a private meeting.
"Harry" patted his frightened client on the back and went up to the bench. He whispered to the judge. I could hear him plainly from a few feet away. Harry told the judge the latest joke he’d heard. The judge laughed aloud. Harry walked back toward his client and winked, signaling slyly. The judge granted the extension to pay the fine or whatever it was that Harry was requesting. There was nothing unusual in this. The judge would have done it without the whispers. But Harry’s client and many in the audience were convinced that Harry had the "fix."
The more I watched George Clooney be "Michael Clayton," though, the more I thought of how many times I’ve felt like the "fixer." The tag is implied in social conversation, when acquaintances ask those annoying questions about how it feels to get a guilty person off.
It is fatiguing to know you’re admired by some for your skills at a dirty trade.
Monday, February 25, 2008
2007
These are my Netflix reviews for films already available on DVD and their Oscar results:
La Vie En Rose - best actress
I first admired Marion Cotillard in a startling French film called "Love Me If You Dare." She was also paired with Russell Crowe in "A Very Good Year," a ho-hum romance. But this one is an Oscar worthy tour de force. She becomes Piaf every bit as much as Jamie Foxx became "Ray" and Charlize Theron became "Monster." Piaf's voice, songs, and life intertwined like Judy Garland's, and Cotillard reaches into her character's soul. Formidable.
A Mighty Heart - nominated best actress
The documentary "The Journalist And The Jihadi", is much better, if the issue is finding the truth and global "macro" meaning of this incident. But the film has a different goal: making you feel what Marianne Pearl went through, the "micro" story. As cinematic drama, it succeeds at bringing you deeply inside this strong woman's heart. Jolie is grippingly credible, her cool and rational exterior shielding emotions barely checked beneath the surface until they finally explode, then followed by the need to find strength to go on. The direction and acting by the supporting cast is restrained rather than sensational, honest rather than sentimental, respectful of human emotions and tragedy rather than exploitative. A terrific film.
Once - best song
A new idea for a movie musical that works with young audiences raised on Nick Drake and Beck rather than Cole Porter. It is about time postmodern storytelling met up with music, which is so much a part of the lives of young people.
Ratatouille - best animation
Imagine the reaction to the pitch: "The star is a rat? In a kitchen? A French kitchen?" A delight all the way through. Original, surprising, and clever. This is the rare kind of film that you can really enjoy with the whole family without embarrassment or tedium.
Interview - nominated for best actress
Sienna Miller's role is perfectly suited to her: a spoiled bitchy t.v. & film star who needs to prove to a condescending, self-deceiving reporter that she is smarter than he is. Steve Buscemi is the reporter & directs this basically one set - two character play. The twist ending is a bit too smart, but Miller acts up a storm playing a part that seems made for her.
Overlooked by the Oscars:
Paris J’taime
Je t'adore this anthology. Some of these 5 minute films are like near perfect poems. Some are sketches leaving you wishing to see them in fuller form, others are fully realized stories. More filmmakers should be forced to such discipline.
Breach
Like "The Good Shepard," what is troubling about these spy profiles is that the central character is basically a boring personality, so buttoned up that he reveals little about his motivations and when we discover them, all we can do is shrug. Chris Cooper is fine, as always, with his menacing normality. The script cheats Ryan Phillipe by stinting on his character's relationship with his wife. Pity, their dilemma is glossed over, with the focus on catching the spy, a result we already know. And what about the spy's wife?
Superbad
HS comedies evolve from the same roots - not a shock,filmmakers are postgrad nerds. The urge to be cool, sexy, stoned never ends. "Fast Times At Ridgemont High" was the template. Rogan, Goldberg & buds are the latest to mine the vein with sharp dialogue, knowing sense of teen angst. Two minor players here, Kevin Corrigan & David Krumholtz were featured in a related gem, "Slums Of Beverly Hills."
300
If this is the future of film, I want none of it. What "2001, A Space Odyssey" suggested and "Sin City" foreshadowed, "300" nearly accomplishes: the computer rules the world. Graphic novels & video games provide the sets; superheroes are the character models, and the plot is as old and simple as mythology. Actors? Irrelevant puppets. Theme? Trite, nasty rehash of old ideas: freedom demands ruthlessness; war is glory.
La Vie En Rose - best actress
I first admired Marion Cotillard in a startling French film called "Love Me If You Dare." She was also paired with Russell Crowe in "A Very Good Year," a ho-hum romance. But this one is an Oscar worthy tour de force. She becomes Piaf every bit as much as Jamie Foxx became "Ray" and Charlize Theron became "Monster." Piaf's voice, songs, and life intertwined like Judy Garland's, and Cotillard reaches into her character's soul. Formidable.
A Mighty Heart - nominated best actress
The documentary "The Journalist And The Jihadi", is much better, if the issue is finding the truth and global "macro" meaning of this incident. But the film has a different goal: making you feel what Marianne Pearl went through, the "micro" story. As cinematic drama, it succeeds at bringing you deeply inside this strong woman's heart. Jolie is grippingly credible, her cool and rational exterior shielding emotions barely checked beneath the surface until they finally explode, then followed by the need to find strength to go on. The direction and acting by the supporting cast is restrained rather than sensational, honest rather than sentimental, respectful of human emotions and tragedy rather than exploitative. A terrific film.
Once - best song
A new idea for a movie musical that works with young audiences raised on Nick Drake and Beck rather than Cole Porter. It is about time postmodern storytelling met up with music, which is so much a part of the lives of young people.
Ratatouille - best animation
Imagine the reaction to the pitch: "The star is a rat? In a kitchen? A French kitchen?" A delight all the way through. Original, surprising, and clever. This is the rare kind of film that you can really enjoy with the whole family without embarrassment or tedium.
Interview - nominated for best actress
Sienna Miller's role is perfectly suited to her: a spoiled bitchy t.v. & film star who needs to prove to a condescending, self-deceiving reporter that she is smarter than he is. Steve Buscemi is the reporter & directs this basically one set - two character play. The twist ending is a bit too smart, but Miller acts up a storm playing a part that seems made for her.
Overlooked by the Oscars:
Paris J’taime
Je t'adore this anthology. Some of these 5 minute films are like near perfect poems. Some are sketches leaving you wishing to see them in fuller form, others are fully realized stories. More filmmakers should be forced to such discipline.
Breach
Like "The Good Shepard," what is troubling about these spy profiles is that the central character is basically a boring personality, so buttoned up that he reveals little about his motivations and when we discover them, all we can do is shrug. Chris Cooper is fine, as always, with his menacing normality. The script cheats Ryan Phillipe by stinting on his character's relationship with his wife. Pity, their dilemma is glossed over, with the focus on catching the spy, a result we already know. And what about the spy's wife?
Superbad
HS comedies evolve from the same roots - not a shock,filmmakers are postgrad nerds. The urge to be cool, sexy, stoned never ends. "Fast Times At Ridgemont High" was the template. Rogan, Goldberg & buds are the latest to mine the vein with sharp dialogue, knowing sense of teen angst. Two minor players here, Kevin Corrigan & David Krumholtz were featured in a related gem, "Slums Of Beverly Hills."
300
If this is the future of film, I want none of it. What "2001, A Space Odyssey" suggested and "Sin City" foreshadowed, "300" nearly accomplishes: the computer rules the world. Graphic novels & video games provide the sets; superheroes are the character models, and the plot is as old and simple as mythology. Actors? Irrelevant puppets. Theme? Trite, nasty rehash of old ideas: freedom demands ruthlessness; war is glory.
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