This early work from Akira Kurosawa (1950) lit up the '51 Cannes' festival, and is the point from where Japanese cinema really made its entry into the Western world. It is a fine film, an excellent piece of what is clearly early Kurosawa in themes and direction.
The use of the point of view is an interesting one. While at once Kurosawa enjoys creating scenes of mystery, by refusing to reveal what is in store or indeed what a character can see (partly for censorship reasons), the camera does in fact quickly enter back and forth into each characters viewpoint. This means we have a process of identification-lite. We have no stern viewpoint to see from, but rather a series, mirroring of course the films major theme, of the many-faceted ambiguities and disguises of this thing we like to call 'truth'.
The use of the camera to stalk us through the forest, almost as a voyeau for some of the action, reinforces this idea of our obscured view. The use of the forest is marvellous, in many ways it is the central character. The shadings, the hidings and occasional uncoverings, resonate throughout story and image. The use of brief illuminations, and indeed the general black and white contrasts, can be intensely beautiful, especially in the radiances of the white and of the knife.
The finest scenes are though perhaps those around the framing device, where we have the end of the world, the brutal seemingly everlasting rain, the house (of God? Of humanity? Of truth?) collapsing in. These are atmospheric, well played, and mournful. The ending? Kurosawa goes where he wants to go, and creates some fine images out of it. It is well executed, as are a number of other devices (the medium, for example) that may appear difficult on paper.
The acting is impressive, Mifune probably did what he did best in 'Seven Samurai' but is still excellent. As indeed are they all, notably the husband.
Overall, a film that deserves the title 'seminal', for its narrative audacity (it really builds up the tension and excitment as it goes), its introduction of Japanese cinema to the world, and its overall place as simply an example of fine filmaking. Recommended.
Wednesday 30 June 2010
Tuesday 29 June 2010
Videocracy
Again, we have the problem of an important and right cause, presented in a way that is not particularly brilliant. We shouldn't be too hard on the way this film is made; the problems come with a lot of good things; but the message may come out a little diluted.
It is important to essay and document (with a few moments of excellent access) the brutally unfunny media culture that Berlusconi has instituted in his personal fiefdom. The connections are made, shown, and we have a picture of a web presided over by the least amusing clown there could be. The presentation is, until perhaps the final titles, neutral; the documenter is careful not to give evaluative judgements, though it is of course clear what the case is here. The refusal to use Berlusconi's name for the first twenty mintues is a clever evocation of his pupper master role. The use of intertwining stories, if maybe a little over-slanted to the top-end, at least tries to show how the problems filter down.
But, in regard to the last point, it does not do this enough. We are not given enough context of the role this plays in wider Italy. A few stats about televsion dispersal doesn't really tell us how the disgusting media web plays itself out, whether it is a closed circuit of corruption or whether it turns all Italian national life to its ways. The few stats at the end are little succour.
An important subject, addressed in a limtied way. For those who know little of Italy's current problems it is important to watch, for those already clued in it acts as a confiramtion, rather than a wider analysis.
It is important to essay and document (with a few moments of excellent access) the brutally unfunny media culture that Berlusconi has instituted in his personal fiefdom. The connections are made, shown, and we have a picture of a web presided over by the least amusing clown there could be. The presentation is, until perhaps the final titles, neutral; the documenter is careful not to give evaluative judgements, though it is of course clear what the case is here. The refusal to use Berlusconi's name for the first twenty mintues is a clever evocation of his pupper master role. The use of intertwining stories, if maybe a little over-slanted to the top-end, at least tries to show how the problems filter down.
But, in regard to the last point, it does not do this enough. We are not given enough context of the role this plays in wider Italy. A few stats about televsion dispersal doesn't really tell us how the disgusting media web plays itself out, whether it is a closed circuit of corruption or whether it turns all Italian national life to its ways. The few stats at the end are little succour.
An important subject, addressed in a limtied way. For those who know little of Italy's current problems it is important to watch, for those already clued in it acts as a confiramtion, rather than a wider analysis.
Dial H-I-S-T-O-R-Y
68 minute visual essay on plane hijackings (made in 1998) for Johan Grimonprez.
Again, this shares a lot of the things we would say about double take. The aesthetic may be less noirish, downbeat (and coherent) but it is the same in that Grimonprez had dug up a bunch of fascinating footage, and has juxtaposed it at times very skillfully.
Some of the effect is that one just doesn't usually see this stuff; the planes crashing, the man just shot. It shocks the audience, especially in the often clever conjuntions with popular music.
Again, a few of the pieces of text that run are a little trite and indicate that the maker isn't going to win any prizes for theory. However, he knows how to show an image, and that is what really matters here. Individual scenes stick with you afterwards, and most of it canters along at a speed where you won't get bored.
Difficult to know what to make of it as an artistic statement, but watchable, oddly entertaining (that's the point really, the horror IS entertaining), and may let one come out to think for oneself, even if the film itself fails to do much thinking.
Again, this shares a lot of the things we would say about double take. The aesthetic may be less noirish, downbeat (and coherent) but it is the same in that Grimonprez had dug up a bunch of fascinating footage, and has juxtaposed it at times very skillfully.
Some of the effect is that one just doesn't usually see this stuff; the planes crashing, the man just shot. It shocks the audience, especially in the often clever conjuntions with popular music.
Again, a few of the pieces of text that run are a little trite and indicate that the maker isn't going to win any prizes for theory. However, he knows how to show an image, and that is what really matters here. Individual scenes stick with you afterwards, and most of it canters along at a speed where you won't get bored.
Difficult to know what to make of it as an artistic statement, but watchable, oddly entertaining (that's the point really, the horror IS entertaining), and may let one come out to think for oneself, even if the film itself fails to do much thinking.
Double Take
Johan Grimonprez piece, 'documentary' may not cover it, it is rather an artistic exhibit, a visual essay on Hitchcock, the cold war, television and doubles.
This is a fun film to just watch. The images are put together well, with some powerful montage effects. The lergely noir-ish stylus is a pleasure at times. Some of the images selected are intriguing, fascinating, great to have a look at. The footage from 'Alfred Hitchcock Presents...' is a pleasure, no amount of that would be too much. Grimonprez has also well selcted some Nixon-Krushchev footage that deserves to be seen by everyone.
As for the thesis of the film? It is diifcult to get one's head around. The use of the dense Borges story hits us perhaps too quickly. It offers some interesting questions, of the double nature of the U.S.S.R. and the U.S., as well as a few questions about Hitchcock. A slightly deeper analysis could have helped, or maybe that analysis was there, buried. Difficult to say. There isn't much analysis of the viewer''s relation to their own double...or is there? A few of the insertions of text are mildly facile.
This film is an ingteresting watch, with a selection of clips that we are delighted we have seen. The overall atmospheric is an arresting one. Reccomended, though it won't necessarily blow one's mind as it perhaps could have.
This is a fun film to just watch. The images are put together well, with some powerful montage effects. The lergely noir-ish stylus is a pleasure at times. Some of the images selected are intriguing, fascinating, great to have a look at. The footage from 'Alfred Hitchcock Presents...' is a pleasure, no amount of that would be too much. Grimonprez has also well selcted some Nixon-Krushchev footage that deserves to be seen by everyone.
As for the thesis of the film? It is diifcult to get one's head around. The use of the dense Borges story hits us perhaps too quickly. It offers some interesting questions, of the double nature of the U.S.S.R. and the U.S., as well as a few questions about Hitchcock. A slightly deeper analysis could have helped, or maybe that analysis was there, buried. Difficult to say. There isn't much analysis of the viewer''s relation to their own double...or is there? A few of the insertions of text are mildly facile.
This film is an ingteresting watch, with a selection of clips that we are delighted we have seen. The overall atmospheric is an arresting one. Reccomended, though it won't necessarily blow one's mind as it perhaps could have.
Monday 28 June 2010
Ghandi
Very watchable, almost documentary like description of Ghandi's life. Not the best telling ever, but it boasts rock solid production and a fine central preformance to make it a decent telling of a story that it would be almost impossible not to make riveting.
First the positives; this is the story of the century. The man in shown in all his light as the man he was. The politics is not exactly made complex, but at least we know where we are. Ben Kingsley perfoms his part very well, the suspension of disbelief comes in early enough. He inhabits the role very nicely. No complaints there. The scenes and the crowds look good, there aren't any weak links. The storytelling is quiet, without any flair or interest, but doesn't get in the way.
Now for the negatives. Let us focus on the two main ones. Firstly, the backstory is not told well. We are left in the dark as to Ghandi's motivations. He seems to just turn up and decide to help. It all rather comes out of knowhere, which does a diiservice, making his goodness oddly arbitrary. This is accentuated as we don't really see the poverty, the struggle, Ghandi fights against. It is a sanitised picture of India we are presented with, no real nastiness or unfairness to rattle against. This feeds into a further criticism, that it is a British-centric portrayal. There are too many English characters, given too much importance. Ghandi seems alien, India seems alien. Why on earth was Ghandi played by an Englishman? Kingsley is good, but there are deep colonial problems there.
A very good film to watch, which deserves its long run time. They couldn't make a bad film out of this material. So, thanks to a good production we have a good film, but with questions not answered.
First the positives; this is the story of the century. The man in shown in all his light as the man he was. The politics is not exactly made complex, but at least we know where we are. Ben Kingsley perfoms his part very well, the suspension of disbelief comes in early enough. He inhabits the role very nicely. No complaints there. The scenes and the crowds look good, there aren't any weak links. The storytelling is quiet, without any flair or interest, but doesn't get in the way.
Now for the negatives. Let us focus on the two main ones. Firstly, the backstory is not told well. We are left in the dark as to Ghandi's motivations. He seems to just turn up and decide to help. It all rather comes out of knowhere, which does a diiservice, making his goodness oddly arbitrary. This is accentuated as we don't really see the poverty, the struggle, Ghandi fights against. It is a sanitised picture of India we are presented with, no real nastiness or unfairness to rattle against. This feeds into a further criticism, that it is a British-centric portrayal. There are too many English characters, given too much importance. Ghandi seems alien, India seems alien. Why on earth was Ghandi played by an Englishman? Kingsley is good, but there are deep colonial problems there.
A very good film to watch, which deserves its long run time. They couldn't make a bad film out of this material. So, thanks to a good production we have a good film, but with questions not answered.
Roman Holiday
This wonderful romantic comedy is the film that all the modern releases wish they were. Stylish depictions of Rome along with two show-stoppingly good performances, from Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn, make this a real pleasure.
We have an almost zero level of direction from William Wyler, simply allowing the actors to do what they do best. The long shots really allow the performances to stretch thmesleves out on screen. Peck is incredible. Even in the smallest gestures he is utterly compelling, he is light, he is hillarious. He says the unsayable in the best possible way; by observing. Hepburn is near perfect. In what could have been played as an ingenue she instead shows a certain steeliness. Both have a wonderful sense of physicality, of timing. Their movements, just walking down the street or up a staircase, are simply wonderful to watch (and watch we can, thanks to the direction).
The pacing is spot on, keeping us involved. Their are some very funny moments (the money handover is a classic), the piece if largely a romance but this doesn't stop the plot developments being each in themselves enjoyable. The ending? Well, what can we say....
A hugely enjoyable picture, where the actors are left to get on with things, and what a great job they do.
We have an almost zero level of direction from William Wyler, simply allowing the actors to do what they do best. The long shots really allow the performances to stretch thmesleves out on screen. Peck is incredible. Even in the smallest gestures he is utterly compelling, he is light, he is hillarious. He says the unsayable in the best possible way; by observing. Hepburn is near perfect. In what could have been played as an ingenue she instead shows a certain steeliness. Both have a wonderful sense of physicality, of timing. Their movements, just walking down the street or up a staircase, are simply wonderful to watch (and watch we can, thanks to the direction).
The pacing is spot on, keeping us involved. Their are some very funny moments (the money handover is a classic), the piece if largely a romance but this doesn't stop the plot developments being each in themselves enjoyable. The ending? Well, what can we say....
A hugely enjoyable picture, where the actors are left to get on with things, and what a great job they do.
Thursday 24 June 2010
Uc Maymun (3 Monkeys)
This perfectly good film, a slow moving one, has two key themes running through it; that of the question of Oedipus, and that of the movements of departure and distance.
The action takes a while to settle on a character. There is an excellent opening scene, which establishes the idea of departure and also the overwhelming fate and metaphysical sadness that will be repeated in the final scene.
When we do hook on we hook onto a young man, having set up his family situation, and we have a fine portrayal of the distance there is between him and his mother. This is well done, the director uses many long, still shots, leaving the (serviceable) actors space to breathe. This is real art house realism. We have a growing affectionate relationship, a very sweet scene where the mother and son watch TV together, and an interesting development of the estarngement of growing up.
The piece then takes a distinctly Oedipal turn. The whole film actually is a pretty close rendition of Hamlet; the ghost-like father, the usurper, the vengeful son.
While we have had an excellent forty minutes odd of the son, he suddenly dissapears, barely to be seen again. The film isn't quite sure what to do now, and it spends the rest of the film toying with the father and the mother. This initially looks like it will be a complete collapse, but there are still good moments. Especially the bedroom scene, and the father's increasingly pathetic night wanderings.
This film features characratcers who spend their whole time departing, going away. Even in the same space, there are often seperate foreground/background relations, characters not looking at each other. Many shots feature just on character. Do they wish to connect? Their each pathetic subservience to the boss indicates more than a hint of social commentary.
As mentioned, this is all tied up with a realist camerawork, that goes in between point of view and a more documentary like farawawy. The film is less succesful when it starts mucking about with colour schemes and slow motions, trying to achieve psychological experience. It is attempt to break up what is otherwise a slow and occasionally ponderous work, which could perhaps have had a little more courage in assertion, a little more power.
Overall though this is a good, thoughtful work.
The action takes a while to settle on a character. There is an excellent opening scene, which establishes the idea of departure and also the overwhelming fate and metaphysical sadness that will be repeated in the final scene.
When we do hook on we hook onto a young man, having set up his family situation, and we have a fine portrayal of the distance there is between him and his mother. This is well done, the director uses many long, still shots, leaving the (serviceable) actors space to breathe. This is real art house realism. We have a growing affectionate relationship, a very sweet scene where the mother and son watch TV together, and an interesting development of the estarngement of growing up.
The piece then takes a distinctly Oedipal turn. The whole film actually is a pretty close rendition of Hamlet; the ghost-like father, the usurper, the vengeful son.
While we have had an excellent forty minutes odd of the son, he suddenly dissapears, barely to be seen again. The film isn't quite sure what to do now, and it spends the rest of the film toying with the father and the mother. This initially looks like it will be a complete collapse, but there are still good moments. Especially the bedroom scene, and the father's increasingly pathetic night wanderings.
This film features characratcers who spend their whole time departing, going away. Even in the same space, there are often seperate foreground/background relations, characters not looking at each other. Many shots feature just on character. Do they wish to connect? Their each pathetic subservience to the boss indicates more than a hint of social commentary.
As mentioned, this is all tied up with a realist camerawork, that goes in between point of view and a more documentary like farawawy. The film is less succesful when it starts mucking about with colour schemes and slow motions, trying to achieve psychological experience. It is attempt to break up what is otherwise a slow and occasionally ponderous work, which could perhaps have had a little more courage in assertion, a little more power.
Overall though this is a good, thoughtful work.
Wednesday 23 June 2010
Le Grande Illusion
A wonderful film, a 1937 film from Jean Renoir.
This film opens with some very interesting questions; we seem to be led to the conclusion that the POW camp is in many ways not a bad existence at all. The character played terrifically, thoughtfully, by Jean Gabin even comes near to the suggestion that it would be better off not bothering to escape at all. This is fascinating, but won't be explored, as we see that the men can't avoid the inevitable commitments and changes that must occur.
We have interesting theatrical themes, as the idea is played with of the Franco-German civility and the 'jolly-good-chaps' atmosphere is just that, an act. Rather like the aristocratic order in society. This film is a class conscious one, using the POW setting to explore peacetime themes.
Change will come, and it does, in the most moving and beautiful scene of the film (and that we have seen in a while). The two views of the theatre, the play acting and the legs kicking underneath, are wonderfully shot. And then we have the magic momet of the Marseillaise. With no manipulation, this is sublime.
It would perhaps be better if the Gabin character, and indeed Boileau, had been a little slower in turning into anti-system heros, but soon enough we have the breakdown of the system as inevitable and not to be resisted. Renoir is strong in showing that this is a tragedy for some. The same humanism for those who must depart, the aristocracy, as we saw in 'La Regle Du Jeu', is extended to the German officer, in a melancholy and powerful sequence interspersed with the wonderful joy of brotherhood in Boileau's flute playing.
This film is happy not to have wild montage cuts, and lets the actors (as mentioned, Gabin most wonderfuly) act. Renoir's style is beautifully smooth and fluid, at once very much there while not being intrusive.We are sure we shan't be the first to say that the last fifteen minutes plot wise, though perfectly well orchestrated, don't really fit with the rest of the film. The themes that are present in it do though, The brotherhood and friendship of those who must now band together in the new world is well established. We have lost a bit of the ambiguity from the start, for a big humanist group hug, but Renoir has brought this thematic development together well (if, as we mentioned, the particular love lot-starnd is a little engineered, though we suppose he had a to get a woman on screen somewhere...) and we enjoy it.
A terrific humanist piece of cinema. A pleasurably directed, intelligent, and intersting in its class-analysis piece, with fine performances and satisfying production. A classic.
This film opens with some very interesting questions; we seem to be led to the conclusion that the POW camp is in many ways not a bad existence at all. The character played terrifically, thoughtfully, by Jean Gabin even comes near to the suggestion that it would be better off not bothering to escape at all. This is fascinating, but won't be explored, as we see that the men can't avoid the inevitable commitments and changes that must occur.
We have interesting theatrical themes, as the idea is played with of the Franco-German civility and the 'jolly-good-chaps' atmosphere is just that, an act. Rather like the aristocratic order in society. This film is a class conscious one, using the POW setting to explore peacetime themes.
Change will come, and it does, in the most moving and beautiful scene of the film (and that we have seen in a while). The two views of the theatre, the play acting and the legs kicking underneath, are wonderfully shot. And then we have the magic momet of the Marseillaise. With no manipulation, this is sublime.
It would perhaps be better if the Gabin character, and indeed Boileau, had been a little slower in turning into anti-system heros, but soon enough we have the breakdown of the system as inevitable and not to be resisted. Renoir is strong in showing that this is a tragedy for some. The same humanism for those who must depart, the aristocracy, as we saw in 'La Regle Du Jeu', is extended to the German officer, in a melancholy and powerful sequence interspersed with the wonderful joy of brotherhood in Boileau's flute playing.
This film is happy not to have wild montage cuts, and lets the actors (as mentioned, Gabin most wonderfuly) act. Renoir's style is beautifully smooth and fluid, at once very much there while not being intrusive.We are sure we shan't be the first to say that the last fifteen minutes plot wise, though perfectly well orchestrated, don't really fit with the rest of the film. The themes that are present in it do though, The brotherhood and friendship of those who must now band together in the new world is well established. We have lost a bit of the ambiguity from the start, for a big humanist group hug, but Renoir has brought this thematic development together well (if, as we mentioned, the particular love lot-starnd is a little engineered, though we suppose he had a to get a woman on screen somewhere...) and we enjoy it.
A terrific humanist piece of cinema. A pleasurably directed, intelligent, and intersting in its class-analysis piece, with fine performances and satisfying production. A classic.
The Bad Sleep Well
This 1960 Kurosawa modern-day picture a loose update of 'Hamlet', a rich, intriguing, and gripping one at that.
The film starts off with the theme of watching being central. The rightly famous opening scene has not only the press pack and the cast watching each other, examining eacg other, but Kurosawa mirrors this theme with his direction, the long shots. This idea of watching others continues throughout the film; we frequently have conversations in threes, two making another act in a certain way, and we often have the idea of the businessmen existing in a world where they are distant, cool, and far away (the shots of large, empty boardrooms etc).
This theme though only foreshadows the central motif of the movie; the collision of the private and public spheres. From the wonderful restrained acting that occurs when the cake is wheeled in, to the final moments, we have an exercise in how both 'good' and 'bad' try to keep the home and the work, the family and the dirt, seperate, and how they fail at this. In the example of the wonderfully acted son-in-law (played by Mifune, showing his customary power and tension while hiding and restrainging it behind a suit and glasses) we have the revenge trope not being able to be extricated from what he so surely wishes is his 'real' life, of the woman he loves.
The film throughout plays with notions of shining a light into darkened corners, amply illustrated by Kurosawa's dramtic 'noir' use of shadows (Wadu, the conscience and 'ghost' of the film, has one of the finest 'noir' moments on cinema with his appearance from the shadows to terrify Shirai), notably the use of flashlight. Throughout, Kurosawa smartly compliments his themes by his use of in particular lighting.
Perahps the romance never quite gets going, and represents too much of a break from the rest of the action. This is also the case with the msuic, which seems rather off key, rather distarcting and unnecessary at times. It also goes on ten minutes too long (it deserves to be a long film, it needs the weight of being over two hours, but does stretch slightly) and some of the ending scenes lose their weight as a result.
Overall however, this is amulti layered and thought provoking film. One of the best Shakespeare 'adaptions', and one of the best, most intelligent, films about corruption out there.
The film starts off with the theme of watching being central. The rightly famous opening scene has not only the press pack and the cast watching each other, examining eacg other, but Kurosawa mirrors this theme with his direction, the long shots. This idea of watching others continues throughout the film; we frequently have conversations in threes, two making another act in a certain way, and we often have the idea of the businessmen existing in a world where they are distant, cool, and far away (the shots of large, empty boardrooms etc).
This theme though only foreshadows the central motif of the movie; the collision of the private and public spheres. From the wonderful restrained acting that occurs when the cake is wheeled in, to the final moments, we have an exercise in how both 'good' and 'bad' try to keep the home and the work, the family and the dirt, seperate, and how they fail at this. In the example of the wonderfully acted son-in-law (played by Mifune, showing his customary power and tension while hiding and restrainging it behind a suit and glasses) we have the revenge trope not being able to be extricated from what he so surely wishes is his 'real' life, of the woman he loves.
The film throughout plays with notions of shining a light into darkened corners, amply illustrated by Kurosawa's dramtic 'noir' use of shadows (Wadu, the conscience and 'ghost' of the film, has one of the finest 'noir' moments on cinema with his appearance from the shadows to terrify Shirai), notably the use of flashlight. Throughout, Kurosawa smartly compliments his themes by his use of in particular lighting.
Perahps the romance never quite gets going, and represents too much of a break from the rest of the action. This is also the case with the msuic, which seems rather off key, rather distarcting and unnecessary at times. It also goes on ten minutes too long (it deserves to be a long film, it needs the weight of being over two hours, but does stretch slightly) and some of the ending scenes lose their weight as a result.
Overall however, this is amulti layered and thought provoking film. One of the best Shakespeare 'adaptions', and one of the best, most intelligent, films about corruption out there.
Tuesday 22 June 2010
Quai Des Orfevres
1947 crime movie from Henri-Georges Clouzot.
This is a good film, that on this first viewing we were not completely able to engage with. The set up is strong, with the theatre worlds and the general mood strongly evoked. Clouzot's trademark uses of shadows, and his uses of mirrors and photographs predominate. The intention is to create a mood that things are always seen through a lens, an angle, not quite right.
A problem with this film is that the characters are difficult to care about. The analysis of bourgeois versus proletarian childhoods is interesting and surely important, but difficult to 'get one's head around'. Perhaps this is a case of us being ignorant. Either way, none of the character's are particularly likeable.
As for the crime itself, this is a bit of a MacGuffin, as shown by the frnakly pathetic ending. The plot is interesting enough, though we do not have the tension we had in 'Les Diaboliques', more of a curiosity that is left rather unsatisfied.
The character of the detective is the most interesting one, and well evoked (the husband is also particularly well acted). It is through him that we get the best view of the gritty, dirty streets of wartime Paris that Clouzot wants us to have.
However, this message just doesn't carry too strongly. Perhaps we were not concentrating hard enough, but a lot of the time this appears as just a tradition cop drama with an atrocious ending. Clouzot's camerawork isn't a point of huge interest, so perhaps more consideration of the settings and background contexts would have helped.
This led us to consider what it is to watch a film, whether one 'reads' it for the themes and settings or tries to 'watch' it for the images (some of which Clouzot does excellently, incidentally, the shadows above mentioned). Maybe we need to concentrate harder, and get the balance better. On further viewing, maybe this Clouzot film will 'come to light' as more than the police drama we watched.
From this viewing however, we saw a decent enough stroy that failed to really excite the mind.
This is a good film, that on this first viewing we were not completely able to engage with. The set up is strong, with the theatre worlds and the general mood strongly evoked. Clouzot's trademark uses of shadows, and his uses of mirrors and photographs predominate. The intention is to create a mood that things are always seen through a lens, an angle, not quite right.
A problem with this film is that the characters are difficult to care about. The analysis of bourgeois versus proletarian childhoods is interesting and surely important, but difficult to 'get one's head around'. Perhaps this is a case of us being ignorant. Either way, none of the character's are particularly likeable.
As for the crime itself, this is a bit of a MacGuffin, as shown by the frnakly pathetic ending. The plot is interesting enough, though we do not have the tension we had in 'Les Diaboliques', more of a curiosity that is left rather unsatisfied.
The character of the detective is the most interesting one, and well evoked (the husband is also particularly well acted). It is through him that we get the best view of the gritty, dirty streets of wartime Paris that Clouzot wants us to have.
However, this message just doesn't carry too strongly. Perhaps we were not concentrating hard enough, but a lot of the time this appears as just a tradition cop drama with an atrocious ending. Clouzot's camerawork isn't a point of huge interest, so perhaps more consideration of the settings and background contexts would have helped.
This led us to consider what it is to watch a film, whether one 'reads' it for the themes and settings or tries to 'watch' it for the images (some of which Clouzot does excellently, incidentally, the shadows above mentioned). Maybe we need to concentrate harder, and get the balance better. On further viewing, maybe this Clouzot film will 'come to light' as more than the police drama we watched.
From this viewing however, we saw a decent enough stroy that failed to really excite the mind.
Monday 21 June 2010
La Bete Humaine (The Human Beast)
1938 Jean Renoir picture loosely based on the Zola novel.
This is a very good film, with some excellent moments, and other moments where it is 'merely' an excellent example of its noirish, thriller genre.
The good bits are the startling use of trains. These contribute and flood the atmosphere, managing to be central when not drowing out the performances. The uses of the yard, always so silent (Renoir's use of music is rare), and the home of shadows and light. The scene where Lantier threatens to knock the husband is a sensational one. Not just for what happenes, but for how it unfolds, and the walking away, that suddenly comes into the most beautiful light. The story is well told and we have some excellent moments like these, generally intriguing pathos and empathy.
It does seem to occasionally become a rather simple genre tale, nand doesn't really pick up from some of the strands it gives us at the start. The camerawork is not quite so elegant as in 'La Regle Du Jeu', but then what is?
The themes are well explored, if rather unsubtly so. We have the moment of violence, the ties that bind. Yes, it's all a bit simple, but in humanising them they become real.
This is a good-looking film with some fine moments. Outside of these, it doesn't particularly stand out (in some ways, with an entirely different plot, it reminded us of Welles' 'The Stranger', Welles being a director Renoir is often correctly compared to in terms of technique/lighting/character-use/monochrome colour), though remains a well told genre piece. Above average, nearly very good.
This is a very good film, with some excellent moments, and other moments where it is 'merely' an excellent example of its noirish, thriller genre.
The good bits are the startling use of trains. These contribute and flood the atmosphere, managing to be central when not drowing out the performances. The uses of the yard, always so silent (Renoir's use of music is rare), and the home of shadows and light. The scene where Lantier threatens to knock the husband is a sensational one. Not just for what happenes, but for how it unfolds, and the walking away, that suddenly comes into the most beautiful light. The story is well told and we have some excellent moments like these, generally intriguing pathos and empathy.
It does seem to occasionally become a rather simple genre tale, nand doesn't really pick up from some of the strands it gives us at the start. The camerawork is not quite so elegant as in 'La Regle Du Jeu', but then what is?
The themes are well explored, if rather unsubtly so. We have the moment of violence, the ties that bind. Yes, it's all a bit simple, but in humanising them they become real.
This is a good-looking film with some fine moments. Outside of these, it doesn't particularly stand out (in some ways, with an entirely different plot, it reminded us of Welles' 'The Stranger', Welles being a director Renoir is often correctly compared to in terms of technique/lighting/character-use/monochrome colour), though remains a well told genre piece. Above average, nearly very good.
La Regle Du Jeu (The Rules Of The Game)
We said we'd rewatch Renoir's highly lauded 1939 farce, and we made the right decision. After the mild pleasure and initial confusion of first time viewing, we now recognize it as a masterpiece.
The anger is truly biting of the aristocrats, never more so than in the hunting scene. It is the small movements, the way the scenes are conjoined, that really illustrates the hypocrisy and the farce. As is the case when upstairs and the downstairs, which the direction indicates is in turn corrupted by their employers, come to meet each other.
A large part of the genius of this film though lies in the great humanisation, even verging on sympathy, Renoir shows for the characters he detests. Robert De La Chesnaye is at once a terrible snob and hypocrite, and has a rather childlike joy. Andre may fall into the same traps as the others, but he wishes to be better, wishes to be pure, before that fateful line 'It's one of the rules....'. Renoir does not let anyone be utterly kicked about, and he lets no one take the high ground, Schumacher being just an absurd idiot. The character of Octave is also a fascinating one, does he really sacrifice himself? Is he just playing along? The themes of artifice, acting, and truth rebound through this film.
We are never presented with them though, the film seamlessly (an overused word, that genuinely applies here) ties up the strands of all. The wonderful weightless camerawork that floats around, picks out the actors, moves as though swimming and breaking from scene to scene. The is divine storytelling.
A delight to re-watch, to be re-watched again. In the pleasure and the beauty of the direction, the infinite richocets of anger and sympathy, a terrific piece of art.
The anger is truly biting of the aristocrats, never more so than in the hunting scene. It is the small movements, the way the scenes are conjoined, that really illustrates the hypocrisy and the farce. As is the case when upstairs and the downstairs, which the direction indicates is in turn corrupted by their employers, come to meet each other.
A large part of the genius of this film though lies in the great humanisation, even verging on sympathy, Renoir shows for the characters he detests. Robert De La Chesnaye is at once a terrible snob and hypocrite, and has a rather childlike joy. Andre may fall into the same traps as the others, but he wishes to be better, wishes to be pure, before that fateful line 'It's one of the rules....'. Renoir does not let anyone be utterly kicked about, and he lets no one take the high ground, Schumacher being just an absurd idiot. The character of Octave is also a fascinating one, does he really sacrifice himself? Is he just playing along? The themes of artifice, acting, and truth rebound through this film.
We are never presented with them though, the film seamlessly (an overused word, that genuinely applies here) ties up the strands of all. The wonderful weightless camerawork that floats around, picks out the actors, moves as though swimming and breaking from scene to scene. The is divine storytelling.
A delight to re-watch, to be re-watched again. In the pleasure and the beauty of the direction, the infinite richocets of anger and sympathy, a terrific piece of art.
Sunday 20 June 2010
Seven Samurai
'Legendary' and 'epic' are horribly overused words, but if they apply it all in the world of film then they certainly apply to this heavily influential, 190 mintute long, 1954 masterpiece from Akira Kurosawa.
We don't apologise for discussing the length, because for anything of the length this film is an analysis is required. The answer here is that the film does justify its length, by the way it is laid out. Kurosawa is an odd director in so far as he likes to quickly swipe between scenes, he can often build up a plot line very quickly, yet at the same time he likes lots of 'extraneous' scenes, some very long scenes where we have what isn't far off mucking about. We have this at the start, where the characters we see aren't even really the main ones, and, in a sense, it takes a long time to 'get going'. This isn't so much of a problem as it is the start of the movie, and the atmosphere of 16th century Japan is being created, along with the dispersal of the characters. What Kurosawa then does is to constantly crank up the movement, every scene becomes exciting, revealing something, important, as the film picks up pace and picks up pace until the last hour, which the critics are correct in saying is a near flawless hour of cinema. This structure means that when the viewing time gets long, the viewer is not thinking of the time, but has been stimulated to focus all attention on the film.
The uses of frequent humour and lightness, not so much slotted in as the overiding tone of the fim, stops it getting too heavy or sincere, yet endears us and lets us feel the character's lives. The wonderful tone at the end, the incredible shots and thoughtfulness, and blinding truth, make this a rare film to balance lightness and weight.
Kurosawa's characters are, in a way, rather minimally done. They are not tropes, but neither are we invited into their houses to get to know them. It is all very much a build up. This creeps up on you when the action scenes happen; Kurosawa has succeeded in creating great tension seemingly effortlessly, through the build up and through the camera's sudden moments of stillness in these battle scenes themselves. Also part of this is the use of music. Kurosawa is intellgent in using his music not to tell one what to feel, but rather as part of the backdrop, the enviroment. Note particularly use of the slow drum.
The actors deserve great credit for building up characters when this is, after all, primarily an action film. Mifune is hillarious and great on screen, as is Shimura. Each plays his role with elan, not to confuse but to let in.
So what can we say about Kurosawa's overall technique? He is certainly more Hollywood esque, the stylist innovations are never too self-conscious. Despite this, and we have no idea how, when one steps back and considers his shots are actually rather thoughtful. The black and white, and the environment of the village, along with the often full body shots and thoughtfulness of the dress, make this an incredibly beautiful film, often starkly so. Kurosawa, perhaps in his great capacity to 'build-up' unobtrusively, creates a sense of place and space almost unmatched. Then, very quietly, the shapes and themes are placed in this, and Kurosawa, with no distinctive pattern, seemingly quite naturalistically, is able to create great images. The use of the rain at the end os inspired, as is the use of the low down camera in the mud. But Kurosawa is difficult to pin down as having a 'technique', of long or short shorts. What one can say is that (with exceptions) they are either long shots with some focus in them or shots that are short and wipe across. Something is nearly always going on in Kurosawa; his genius is to make it so that this doesn't detract from the atmospherics, but drowning us in plot.
We enjoyed 'Ran', and found 'Ikuru' has some fine points, if it did drag at the end. This is a real old fashioned epic, both narrative wise and in its scope to encompass the filmkaing tradition. It is entertaining, fun, lively, exciting. It is beautiful. It is a masterpiece.
We don't apologise for discussing the length, because for anything of the length this film is an analysis is required. The answer here is that the film does justify its length, by the way it is laid out. Kurosawa is an odd director in so far as he likes to quickly swipe between scenes, he can often build up a plot line very quickly, yet at the same time he likes lots of 'extraneous' scenes, some very long scenes where we have what isn't far off mucking about. We have this at the start, where the characters we see aren't even really the main ones, and, in a sense, it takes a long time to 'get going'. This isn't so much of a problem as it is the start of the movie, and the atmosphere of 16th century Japan is being created, along with the dispersal of the characters. What Kurosawa then does is to constantly crank up the movement, every scene becomes exciting, revealing something, important, as the film picks up pace and picks up pace until the last hour, which the critics are correct in saying is a near flawless hour of cinema. This structure means that when the viewing time gets long, the viewer is not thinking of the time, but has been stimulated to focus all attention on the film.
The uses of frequent humour and lightness, not so much slotted in as the overiding tone of the fim, stops it getting too heavy or sincere, yet endears us and lets us feel the character's lives. The wonderful tone at the end, the incredible shots and thoughtfulness, and blinding truth, make this a rare film to balance lightness and weight.
Kurosawa's characters are, in a way, rather minimally done. They are not tropes, but neither are we invited into their houses to get to know them. It is all very much a build up. This creeps up on you when the action scenes happen; Kurosawa has succeeded in creating great tension seemingly effortlessly, through the build up and through the camera's sudden moments of stillness in these battle scenes themselves. Also part of this is the use of music. Kurosawa is intellgent in using his music not to tell one what to feel, but rather as part of the backdrop, the enviroment. Note particularly use of the slow drum.
The actors deserve great credit for building up characters when this is, after all, primarily an action film. Mifune is hillarious and great on screen, as is Shimura. Each plays his role with elan, not to confuse but to let in.
So what can we say about Kurosawa's overall technique? He is certainly more Hollywood esque, the stylist innovations are never too self-conscious. Despite this, and we have no idea how, when one steps back and considers his shots are actually rather thoughtful. The black and white, and the environment of the village, along with the often full body shots and thoughtfulness of the dress, make this an incredibly beautiful film, often starkly so. Kurosawa, perhaps in his great capacity to 'build-up' unobtrusively, creates a sense of place and space almost unmatched. Then, very quietly, the shapes and themes are placed in this, and Kurosawa, with no distinctive pattern, seemingly quite naturalistically, is able to create great images. The use of the rain at the end os inspired, as is the use of the low down camera in the mud. But Kurosawa is difficult to pin down as having a 'technique', of long or short shorts. What one can say is that (with exceptions) they are either long shots with some focus in them or shots that are short and wipe across. Something is nearly always going on in Kurosawa; his genius is to make it so that this doesn't detract from the atmospherics, but drowning us in plot.
We enjoyed 'Ran', and found 'Ikuru' has some fine points, if it did drag at the end. This is a real old fashioned epic, both narrative wise and in its scope to encompass the filmkaing tradition. It is entertaining, fun, lively, exciting. It is beautiful. It is a masterpiece.
Friday 18 June 2010
Au Hasard Balthazar (By Chance, Balthazar)
Robert Bresson film from 1966, set around a donkey.
Being a Bresson film, it is wonderfully smooth, a pleasure simply aesthetically to watch, for the way the scenes are fast, to the point, and blend into the next. The way the character's simply walk, and the clearness and the blank white's of their faces remain a joy. The whole technical apparatus is interesting, the cblack and white contrasts and shade themes excellent.
Bresson still leaves us baffled. We enjoy the completely neutral acting styles, the difference this has from all others. The way that the plots tail round corners very quickly and with no fuss whatsoever is certainly refreshing. As an artist, rather than a storyteller, Bresson focusses on the right things. We have the shots of our hero, Balthazar, and some memorable stills of Marie's excellent performance. The uses of a camera at the donkey's level, chopping the heads off the character's, is a great trick.
And yet we'd be lying if we said Bresson's films really have us over the moon. The action is so decentered, the character's just so blank, the story and psychological depth so far away, it is difficult to quite know what is happening. Perhaps we should be concentrating harder, really trying to get inside the character's. The themes are fascinating, of religion, of suffering, of salvation, all as they should be, not rammed down the throat but played out on screen. But on what do we grasp to enter this fray. The answer would seem to lie with the viewer having to use their imagination, a trick that has been undernourished and needs development. We shall endevour.
So, another fascinating and beautiful cinematic experience with Bresson (his films remind us of a light bicep muscle). though again we found it difficult to enter into a dialogue with the film. If we haven't yet fully become one with the man though, let us not rule out the possibility.
Being a Bresson film, it is wonderfully smooth, a pleasure simply aesthetically to watch, for the way the scenes are fast, to the point, and blend into the next. The way the character's simply walk, and the clearness and the blank white's of their faces remain a joy. The whole technical apparatus is interesting, the cblack and white contrasts and shade themes excellent.
Bresson still leaves us baffled. We enjoy the completely neutral acting styles, the difference this has from all others. The way that the plots tail round corners very quickly and with no fuss whatsoever is certainly refreshing. As an artist, rather than a storyteller, Bresson focusses on the right things. We have the shots of our hero, Balthazar, and some memorable stills of Marie's excellent performance. The uses of a camera at the donkey's level, chopping the heads off the character's, is a great trick.
And yet we'd be lying if we said Bresson's films really have us over the moon. The action is so decentered, the character's just so blank, the story and psychological depth so far away, it is difficult to quite know what is happening. Perhaps we should be concentrating harder, really trying to get inside the character's. The themes are fascinating, of religion, of suffering, of salvation, all as they should be, not rammed down the throat but played out on screen. But on what do we grasp to enter this fray. The answer would seem to lie with the viewer having to use their imagination, a trick that has been undernourished and needs development. We shall endevour.
So, another fascinating and beautiful cinematic experience with Bresson (his films remind us of a light bicep muscle). though again we found it difficult to enter into a dialogue with the film. If we haven't yet fully become one with the man though, let us not rule out the possibility.
Angel On The Right
This not particularly brilliant piece does at least come with the point of interest of being a film about and set in a part of the world (Tajikistan), and the lives of the people who live there, almost never explored by contemporary cinema. However, interesting as this is, it doesn't save the film from being a mild dissapointment.
The lead character is brutally unlikable. A problem of this film is that we never have a reason to want to watch anything. The presentation of the characters just doesn't strike as particularly interesting, or lead on to have certain wishes and thoughts about them. It just comes across as rather stupid, grim lives.
The settings have occasional beauty (the best shot of the film, of the mountains, is one of the first), but this doesn't really lead us anywhere. Some of the overhead shots seem rather pointless, and we are never left to linger on anyone, making it difficult to really experience with. The lighting is deeply depressing, but through the greyness rather than any great contrasts. Realism doesn't have to mean homogenity, you know. It is as though the cinematographer is a depressive.
The use of the female 'love interest' appears a bit cursory, and would probably be called objectionable in the Western world. The actors are all family of the director, some are good (the lead, the woman) and some not so (the rather beautiful but not terrifically natural old mother).
All round, this isn't a great film. Is it good? It is interesting to see the Tajikistani landscaoe, and the thing does have a story with some themes (changes, salvation) but these aren't particularly interestingly explored. Perhaps a bit more humour in the central character's meanness would have helped. A bit of a dissapointment.
The lead character is brutally unlikable. A problem of this film is that we never have a reason to want to watch anything. The presentation of the characters just doesn't strike as particularly interesting, or lead on to have certain wishes and thoughts about them. It just comes across as rather stupid, grim lives.
The settings have occasional beauty (the best shot of the film, of the mountains, is one of the first), but this doesn't really lead us anywhere. Some of the overhead shots seem rather pointless, and we are never left to linger on anyone, making it difficult to really experience with. The lighting is deeply depressing, but through the greyness rather than any great contrasts. Realism doesn't have to mean homogenity, you know. It is as though the cinematographer is a depressive.
The use of the female 'love interest' appears a bit cursory, and would probably be called objectionable in the Western world. The actors are all family of the director, some are good (the lead, the woman) and some not so (the rather beautiful but not terrifically natural old mother).
All round, this isn't a great film. Is it good? It is interesting to see the Tajikistani landscaoe, and the thing does have a story with some themes (changes, salvation) but these aren't particularly interestingly explored. Perhaps a bit more humour in the central character's meanness would have helped. A bit of a dissapointment.
Thursday 17 June 2010
Unforgiven
Hollywood at its best, with everything that implies. Updated Western from Clint Eastwood.
How is this novel not your traditional western? The failings of the central characters, though not entirely new, are depicted as central in a distinct way. The lingering on the consequences of violence are certainly rare in the 'classic' western. Eastwood is obviously playing on his legacy as 'The Man With No Name' and, whatever one may say about his acting (not always great, a little speechifying) he looks excellent. The dialogue and gritty roughness of the interiors also are something that strives at more authenticity, and, without saying what really IS more authentic, a new atmosphere is certainly created.
An interesting aspect of this movie is the use of woman. They play a central role in a manner that is differing from the traditional misogynist use in Westerns. However, the men do reamin the central characters, and a few extra lingering shots can seem a little bit like a 'concession' rather than central. This is slightly unfair; there is obviously good intentions here, and we do get character development. This does though remain a man's film.
The themes that are flagged up, of ageing, of killing, of change, are all well rehearsed. If in the classic Hollywood manner they are rather introduced, and then simply left to percolate around an exciting plot, this is the nature of the Hollywood beast.
The story is well told, Eastwood directs films that are immensely pleasurable to watch. Smooth, well told storys. The end may be a slight wish-fulfillment cop-out, not quite cashing the cheques of the 'pathetic' we were led to believe, but it remains engaging and exciting throughout. The backdrops are classic Western, the bar room and gun scenes look well within that aesthetic.
All told, an immensely entertaining and exciting Hollywood film, which has some intelligence behind it. Challenging the presentation of these themes is not an attack on the film, but rather the wider cinematic tradition it was raised within.
How is this novel not your traditional western? The failings of the central characters, though not entirely new, are depicted as central in a distinct way. The lingering on the consequences of violence are certainly rare in the 'classic' western. Eastwood is obviously playing on his legacy as 'The Man With No Name' and, whatever one may say about his acting (not always great, a little speechifying) he looks excellent. The dialogue and gritty roughness of the interiors also are something that strives at more authenticity, and, without saying what really IS more authentic, a new atmosphere is certainly created.
An interesting aspect of this movie is the use of woman. They play a central role in a manner that is differing from the traditional misogynist use in Westerns. However, the men do reamin the central characters, and a few extra lingering shots can seem a little bit like a 'concession' rather than central. This is slightly unfair; there is obviously good intentions here, and we do get character development. This does though remain a man's film.
The themes that are flagged up, of ageing, of killing, of change, are all well rehearsed. If in the classic Hollywood manner they are rather introduced, and then simply left to percolate around an exciting plot, this is the nature of the Hollywood beast.
The story is well told, Eastwood directs films that are immensely pleasurable to watch. Smooth, well told storys. The end may be a slight wish-fulfillment cop-out, not quite cashing the cheques of the 'pathetic' we were led to believe, but it remains engaging and exciting throughout. The backdrops are classic Western, the bar room and gun scenes look well within that aesthetic.
All told, an immensely entertaining and exciting Hollywood film, which has some intelligence behind it. Challenging the presentation of these themes is not an attack on the film, but rather the wider cinematic tradition it was raised within.
Wednesday 16 June 2010
10 on Ten
This is a film where Abbas Kiarostami talks about his film 'Ten', while filming himself driving a car through some hills near Tehran. It expands into more general lessons on cinema.
This is of course of more intellectual interest than artistic, but it is reasonable to say that it is well paced and engaging all the same. The ideas give a certain beauty to the static shots when they come at the end.
As for what Mr Kiarostami said, the content is excellent. Without wanting to repeat, the analysis of his hyper-realism, his almost obsession with removing the artifices of cinema, is an interesting viewpoint. It is not entirely clear how he squares this with the necessary artifice he later talks about, and his quotes of Bresson on minimalism (subtract to add), though the two aspects are fascinating. He is an intelligent and very articulate teacher.
Also interesting is his discussions on music, and the acting technique. Occasioanlly it is a little obvious, but as the film moves on he reaches his most interesting points, ending with a wonderful analysis.
His adherence to cheap productions, unobtrusive, and techniques to engage and question the viewer rather than absorb (a slight diversion of Brechtean alienation) is a fascinating technical study. As is his wish for no part of the film, the cinematography, editing, or plot, to stand out from the whole. It explains his insistence on not letting one scene or image stand out, a fascinating and new (to us) thesis. He explains how his realism is a realism of the actor, who holds the pieces together. How each person, not film but person, is the real subject.
He ends with an analysis of the way Hollywood, not only through plot but through the production of 'beautiful images' (and music), 'kills' or 'wipes out' the viewer. This is a difficult note to strike, the opposite pole being the danger of hyper-calaculation, non involvement. What Kiarostami needs to explain (and, in his films, what he actually does) is the middle way, where we do not forget but neither do we coldly analyse. Instead we think, we prject backwards and forwards, not 'recknoning up' logic but with minds.
These are all big and difficult questions, which Kiarostami raises well. His attack on American theory is clear for the viewer to see, and a fascinating viewpoint. A good thoughtful documentary on the art of cinema, and how it can be an art.
This is of course of more intellectual interest than artistic, but it is reasonable to say that it is well paced and engaging all the same. The ideas give a certain beauty to the static shots when they come at the end.
As for what Mr Kiarostami said, the content is excellent. Without wanting to repeat, the analysis of his hyper-realism, his almost obsession with removing the artifices of cinema, is an interesting viewpoint. It is not entirely clear how he squares this with the necessary artifice he later talks about, and his quotes of Bresson on minimalism (subtract to add), though the two aspects are fascinating. He is an intelligent and very articulate teacher.
Also interesting is his discussions on music, and the acting technique. Occasioanlly it is a little obvious, but as the film moves on he reaches his most interesting points, ending with a wonderful analysis.
His adherence to cheap productions, unobtrusive, and techniques to engage and question the viewer rather than absorb (a slight diversion of Brechtean alienation) is a fascinating technical study. As is his wish for no part of the film, the cinematography, editing, or plot, to stand out from the whole. It explains his insistence on not letting one scene or image stand out, a fascinating and new (to us) thesis. He explains how his realism is a realism of the actor, who holds the pieces together. How each person, not film but person, is the real subject.
He ends with an analysis of the way Hollywood, not only through plot but through the production of 'beautiful images' (and music), 'kills' or 'wipes out' the viewer. This is a difficult note to strike, the opposite pole being the danger of hyper-calaculation, non involvement. What Kiarostami needs to explain (and, in his films, what he actually does) is the middle way, where we do not forget but neither do we coldly analyse. Instead we think, we prject backwards and forwards, not 'recknoning up' logic but with minds.
These are all big and difficult questions, which Kiarostami raises well. His attack on American theory is clear for the viewer to see, and a fascinating viewpoint. A good thoughtful documentary on the art of cinema, and how it can be an art.
Ten
This Abbas Kiarostami film, often considered one of the most important films in recent cinema, is a fascinationg, intense, uncomfortable, difficult (even agonising at times) to watch, and at times very moving film.
It is ten scenes, 'shot' from a fixed camera inside a car. They relate to the driver, who in each case is a woman in her mid thirties with a difficult, though not super-dramatic in the classic cinematic way, family life.
The opening scene is clausrophobic and absolutely horrendous. Next to no horror films can build up and twist this sense of nastiness, difficulty, power, and on the viewer's part wish to completely not be there.
As the scenes move on we get wonderful character sketches, without too much ever being given away. The woman who plays with her face, though again uncomfortable to look at, certainly has a quality. Kiarostami does not make it easy, we don't get simple conclusions from watching the way the people act (or indeed hearing). But we do get a sense of real people, who we try to understand.
The scene with the prostitute as it once unsettling, interesting, and occasioanlly moving. The laugh of the woman, her subverting what seems the intial terms of the excahnge; all fascinating, innovative.
There are moments of light in this film. We have a tenderness to some of the later mother-son events that, though on a knife edge and never to be concluded, are fascinating. It is little moments of comradeship that give this film its light.
That said, it is cluastrophobia and tenseness that form the heart of this film. Don't expect hyper-beauty, we have some nice uses of light, but this is much more about the actors than the background settings. This requires the viewer's engagement, a high level of concentration, to understand the people, rather than to wallow in anything. A film that makes demands on the viewer.
As far as ideas, we are never given didacticism, but only super-real portraits of what actual people think. This is a feminist film not in how the ideas are given, but in how we are seen the women's point of view (note how the camera's staying still takes the power from the male director and gives it to the female actors) and enter a world we are often excluded from in the cinema world.
A brave, powerful, creatively innovative film, that refuses to hand anything on a plate and makes the viewer engage and work for the pleasures and intense moments of comradeship that are there. An important film, one that will last long in the mind, and one that took us to places that cinema all too often ignores. Terrific work.
It is ten scenes, 'shot' from a fixed camera inside a car. They relate to the driver, who in each case is a woman in her mid thirties with a difficult, though not super-dramatic in the classic cinematic way, family life.
The opening scene is clausrophobic and absolutely horrendous. Next to no horror films can build up and twist this sense of nastiness, difficulty, power, and on the viewer's part wish to completely not be there.
As the scenes move on we get wonderful character sketches, without too much ever being given away. The woman who plays with her face, though again uncomfortable to look at, certainly has a quality. Kiarostami does not make it easy, we don't get simple conclusions from watching the way the people act (or indeed hearing). But we do get a sense of real people, who we try to understand.
The scene with the prostitute as it once unsettling, interesting, and occasioanlly moving. The laugh of the woman, her subverting what seems the intial terms of the excahnge; all fascinating, innovative.
There are moments of light in this film. We have a tenderness to some of the later mother-son events that, though on a knife edge and never to be concluded, are fascinating. It is little moments of comradeship that give this film its light.
That said, it is cluastrophobia and tenseness that form the heart of this film. Don't expect hyper-beauty, we have some nice uses of light, but this is much more about the actors than the background settings. This requires the viewer's engagement, a high level of concentration, to understand the people, rather than to wallow in anything. A film that makes demands on the viewer.
As far as ideas, we are never given didacticism, but only super-real portraits of what actual people think. This is a feminist film not in how the ideas are given, but in how we are seen the women's point of view (note how the camera's staying still takes the power from the male director and gives it to the female actors) and enter a world we are often excluded from in the cinema world.
A brave, powerful, creatively innovative film, that refuses to hand anything on a plate and makes the viewer engage and work for the pleasures and intense moments of comradeship that are there. An important film, one that will last long in the mind, and one that took us to places that cinema all too often ignores. Terrific work.
Tuesday 15 June 2010
Bad Ma Ra Khahad Bord (The Wind Will Carry Us)
This 1999 Abbas Kiarostami picture is a terrific film, with many diferent themes coming together in a highly original execution of a traditional 'outside in town' theme.
One of the interesting tactics used by Kiarostami is the way that we often don't see the face of who is talking or, more likely, who is being talked to. This gives the whole exercise very much a one-man-centric feel, along with some Kafka-esque suggestions (mild references to 'The Castle') thoughout. It also adds to the sense which leads us to never quite have all the pieces in the story, even though about a third of the way through we come to catch the drift.
As for the story, it becomes clearer as a study of a man. He is very unlikable, but this characterisation is done intelligently, so as not to be over the top. Indeed, there is something deeply uncomfortable about everything 'wrong' he does because we recognise that these are precisely the sorts of things we may well find ourselves doing in the same situations. Little acts of thoughtlessness, domination It remains closer to realism that way, and feels very direct, not ostentatious but indeed powerful.
The village we are in, the repititious shots and backdrops, are beautiful, but Kiarostami does not lay this out for us in a traditional 'photographic' sense. The images are not really images, they are moving tableaus....but not really tableaus as we rarely to never notice it as a set up of the camera. The symbols, if you want to call them that, are curious and opaque. It is a film that leaves one thinking, even if you are not at all too sure what about.
There is one particularly memorable scene, of the underground milking, that does have a beautiful still image. The character uses and the poem read fit perfectly.
So, the end of this film is like the rest; we are not evil, we have done something wrong, it is also very beautiful, mystical even, but certainly not graspable. This film leaves one with a feeling rather than a thought. If no one is lovable, one is never quite gunning for anything or anyone, it quietly creeps up and engages you.
An excellent film, a genuine artwork in so far as it is different from the great mass of both narrative and imagistic cinema, even as it is part of those two traditions.
One of the interesting tactics used by Kiarostami is the way that we often don't see the face of who is talking or, more likely, who is being talked to. This gives the whole exercise very much a one-man-centric feel, along with some Kafka-esque suggestions (mild references to 'The Castle') thoughout. It also adds to the sense which leads us to never quite have all the pieces in the story, even though about a third of the way through we come to catch the drift.
As for the story, it becomes clearer as a study of a man. He is very unlikable, but this characterisation is done intelligently, so as not to be over the top. Indeed, there is something deeply uncomfortable about everything 'wrong' he does because we recognise that these are precisely the sorts of things we may well find ourselves doing in the same situations. Little acts of thoughtlessness, domination It remains closer to realism that way, and feels very direct, not ostentatious but indeed powerful.
The village we are in, the repititious shots and backdrops, are beautiful, but Kiarostami does not lay this out for us in a traditional 'photographic' sense. The images are not really images, they are moving tableaus....but not really tableaus as we rarely to never notice it as a set up of the camera. The symbols, if you want to call them that, are curious and opaque. It is a film that leaves one thinking, even if you are not at all too sure what about.
There is one particularly memorable scene, of the underground milking, that does have a beautiful still image. The character uses and the poem read fit perfectly.
So, the end of this film is like the rest; we are not evil, we have done something wrong, it is also very beautiful, mystical even, but certainly not graspable. This film leaves one with a feeling rather than a thought. If no one is lovable, one is never quite gunning for anything or anyone, it quietly creeps up and engages you.
An excellent film, a genuine artwork in so far as it is different from the great mass of both narrative and imagistic cinema, even as it is part of those two traditions.
Monday 14 June 2010
Five (Dedicated to Ozu)
Insanely beautiful, meditative, thoughtful, calming, art. These five shots, made in memory of Yasujiro Ozu, are from Abbas Kiarostami, and are proper filmaking.
The obvious thing people will say is that this exercise is boring, and nothing happens. This is complete rubbish. The action takes place in the static (often) beauty of the scene, in the meditating mind of the viewer, in the interactions and interplays of what makes up the seas shot.
The first 15 minute take, of the driftwood, is stunning. It could of course only be spontaneous that the wood would play the part it does, its beautiful delicate rolls, its break ups, its returns. The waves lapping is mesmeric, the sound that will come to characterise this whole piece introduced.
The we have the next 15 minutes, of the seafront. We have the great beauty of the sea-line and the people walking past. The bars that form a geometric elegance, and the group of old men, who perform almost a dance. What are they talking about? We will never hear, but we feel we know them so well. This is what humanist cinema is.
Then we have the dogs by the seafront. The increasingly blinding light, the curios, the lack of answers. The wonderful arpeggios of the seas unfolding. And as the light bursts it becomes harder to watch. Very powerful.
We then have the ducks back and forth. The most active (!), the strangest. Of course we don't know why they cross, but this isn't a piece about questions. It is about the beauty of the Turner-esque sky, the darkening sea.
The final 15-20 minutes are the strangest. The moon on the water, often not visible at all, dances and turns. The fact that often the screen is just black enters the viewer into a half world, they drift, they float, they dissappear into themselves. Also the most obtrusive and powerful use of sound here; the monotomy of the noise and its harsh strangeness.
This film is dedicated to Ozu, whose films we are growing to love. It shares its use of long long takes, static, showing 'nothing' with, as an artwork, Herzog's 'Fata Morgana'. Two fils which employ similar techniques, and actually have narratives, are the (not coincidentally) excellent 'In The City Of Sylvia' and 'Lourdes'.
Yes, the mind can't help but wander occasionally, but that is all part of these impossibly slow meditations. Real works of art, of beauty, Kiarostami has created a wordless, actionless, non-artificial master work. To be seen again, in wonder.
The obvious thing people will say is that this exercise is boring, and nothing happens. This is complete rubbish. The action takes place in the static (often) beauty of the scene, in the meditating mind of the viewer, in the interactions and interplays of what makes up the seas shot.
The first 15 minute take, of the driftwood, is stunning. It could of course only be spontaneous that the wood would play the part it does, its beautiful delicate rolls, its break ups, its returns. The waves lapping is mesmeric, the sound that will come to characterise this whole piece introduced.
The we have the next 15 minutes, of the seafront. We have the great beauty of the sea-line and the people walking past. The bars that form a geometric elegance, and the group of old men, who perform almost a dance. What are they talking about? We will never hear, but we feel we know them so well. This is what humanist cinema is.
Then we have the dogs by the seafront. The increasingly blinding light, the curios, the lack of answers. The wonderful arpeggios of the seas unfolding. And as the light bursts it becomes harder to watch. Very powerful.
We then have the ducks back and forth. The most active (!), the strangest. Of course we don't know why they cross, but this isn't a piece about questions. It is about the beauty of the Turner-esque sky, the darkening sea.
The final 15-20 minutes are the strangest. The moon on the water, often not visible at all, dances and turns. The fact that often the screen is just black enters the viewer into a half world, they drift, they float, they dissappear into themselves. Also the most obtrusive and powerful use of sound here; the monotomy of the noise and its harsh strangeness.
This film is dedicated to Ozu, whose films we are growing to love. It shares its use of long long takes, static, showing 'nothing' with, as an artwork, Herzog's 'Fata Morgana'. Two fils which employ similar techniques, and actually have narratives, are the (not coincidentally) excellent 'In The City Of Sylvia' and 'Lourdes'.
Yes, the mind can't help but wander occasionally, but that is all part of these impossibly slow meditations. Real works of art, of beauty, Kiarostami has created a wordless, actionless, non-artificial master work. To be seen again, in wonder.
ABC Africa
Documentary from the renowned Iranian filmaker Abbas Kiarostami about a trip he made to Uganda.
This is a decent documentary, that is a pleasant and interesting watch. There really isn't all that much to say about it, it doesn't have a great narrative to latch on to or a particularly special visual technique. It is though interesting, curious, and nicely put together.
There are a few points of interest. It is clear Kiarostami is a genuine filmaker as he cuts well between the clouds and the action. His side on views of his drivers attract a great sense of imbuing personality.
The roving cameras, capturing the children muggung into it, following and playing, are probably the best scenes. These are fun, happy, and make one feel a real connection. Kiarostami is not trying to say anything particularly new here; the people look nice, the kids are cute, the dresses are colourful, and the deaths are awful. We get a few shots, such as the child's wrapped up body on the bicycle, that are distinctive, but there isn't a general thesis (apart from a few knocks on the Catholic Church, which is pretty standard in these sorts of pieces).
Perhaps, filmically, the most interesting aspects were those when we have a film of the one of the filmmakers filming. We then see how what is being done could be construed as a little cold, nearly almost exploitative, certainly strange. That is something to think on.
Largely though this is just a decent documentary, with a few points of interest.
This is a decent documentary, that is a pleasant and interesting watch. There really isn't all that much to say about it, it doesn't have a great narrative to latch on to or a particularly special visual technique. It is though interesting, curious, and nicely put together.
There are a few points of interest. It is clear Kiarostami is a genuine filmaker as he cuts well between the clouds and the action. His side on views of his drivers attract a great sense of imbuing personality.
The roving cameras, capturing the children muggung into it, following and playing, are probably the best scenes. These are fun, happy, and make one feel a real connection. Kiarostami is not trying to say anything particularly new here; the people look nice, the kids are cute, the dresses are colourful, and the deaths are awful. We get a few shots, such as the child's wrapped up body on the bicycle, that are distinctive, but there isn't a general thesis (apart from a few knocks on the Catholic Church, which is pretty standard in these sorts of pieces).
Perhaps, filmically, the most interesting aspects were those when we have a film of the one of the filmmakers filming. We then see how what is being done could be construed as a little cold, nearly almost exploitative, certainly strange. That is something to think on.
Largely though this is just a decent documentary, with a few points of interest.
Sunday 13 June 2010
Do The Right Thing
Spike Lee's classic joint of race relations in a Brooklyn neighbourhood on a hot hot day, from 1989.
This is an excellent, dazzling, exciting, thoughtful film. We have a great look to the burning shades of orange and yellow, the bright colours and the cool clothes. The sharp sweat and the clean cut people all with those razor wire personalities underneath. The look of the film is actually something akin to late 80's kids TV shows, which doesn't take away weight but does give the film an ultra cool look, even so now twenty-one years later.
The language is genuinely fascinating. At times it can be a little shouty, as in it is difficult to sympathise with anyone if they're just going to be screaming at each other, but a lot of the time the script is sharp, thoughtful, and funny. The uses of slang and chit-chat is downright cool. Especially your DJ. The use of one's speech leading to another, in the crowd scenes, gives a wonderful poetry when required.
Lee's camerawork and pacing is excellent. He is not afraid to break from realsim, the term 'street opera' is often used for this film and that is appropriate, with the choruses and the blocking where characters stand in such positions as to give the greatest theatrical impact and cohesion.
As for the story and the characters, Lee has done something special. The fair minded look at race relations is extraordinary when one considers the undoubted anger that runs through so much of the work. No one is perfect, no one (except Sal's elder son) is fair to say downright evil. Lee's very accurate settings up of distinctly moral siutations within the street context give us exercises to really make us think about the subjects of race and violence. This movie should be shown to everyone with too black-or-white (ho-ho-ho) a view.
The characters aren't always very likeable. It is difficult sometimes to even engage with Mookie, who does seem a bit of a lay about. The sheer anger of all the characters is sometimes difficult to get over, especially to the British viewer, whose expereience of racial problems is perhaps less out in the open, more subtle. This is really a film about American race relations, which isn't a criticism, just a point that this is a film about a very specific atmosphere, with universal themes having to be drawn out rather than immediately present.
But this remians for all to watch a terrific film. Funny, entertaining, colourful, sharp, thoughtful. We are left to ask which thing should you do, what is the right thing? Congratulations to Mr Lee for framing the debate so marverllously.
This is an excellent, dazzling, exciting, thoughtful film. We have a great look to the burning shades of orange and yellow, the bright colours and the cool clothes. The sharp sweat and the clean cut people all with those razor wire personalities underneath. The look of the film is actually something akin to late 80's kids TV shows, which doesn't take away weight but does give the film an ultra cool look, even so now twenty-one years later.
The language is genuinely fascinating. At times it can be a little shouty, as in it is difficult to sympathise with anyone if they're just going to be screaming at each other, but a lot of the time the script is sharp, thoughtful, and funny. The uses of slang and chit-chat is downright cool. Especially your DJ. The use of one's speech leading to another, in the crowd scenes, gives a wonderful poetry when required.
Lee's camerawork and pacing is excellent. He is not afraid to break from realsim, the term 'street opera' is often used for this film and that is appropriate, with the choruses and the blocking where characters stand in such positions as to give the greatest theatrical impact and cohesion.
As for the story and the characters, Lee has done something special. The fair minded look at race relations is extraordinary when one considers the undoubted anger that runs through so much of the work. No one is perfect, no one (except Sal's elder son) is fair to say downright evil. Lee's very accurate settings up of distinctly moral siutations within the street context give us exercises to really make us think about the subjects of race and violence. This movie should be shown to everyone with too black-or-white (ho-ho-ho) a view.
The characters aren't always very likeable. It is difficult sometimes to even engage with Mookie, who does seem a bit of a lay about. The sheer anger of all the characters is sometimes difficult to get over, especially to the British viewer, whose expereience of racial problems is perhaps less out in the open, more subtle. This is really a film about American race relations, which isn't a criticism, just a point that this is a film about a very specific atmosphere, with universal themes having to be drawn out rather than immediately present.
But this remians for all to watch a terrific film. Funny, entertaining, colourful, sharp, thoughtful. We are left to ask which thing should you do, what is the right thing? Congratulations to Mr Lee for framing the debate so marverllously.
Saturday 12 June 2010
Hannah And Her Sisters
Truly excellent 1986 Woody Allen drama. Not a joke-a-thon, but funny. A really good, grown up, not annoying or repetitive, family drama.
Allen has ironed out the tics that made his films sometimes rather too meta-, and he does what he does best, which is giving us the true lives of true characters, and, better than that, people. These may be people who live a closeted bourgeois life, but they are still people, and his portrayal of them is excellent.
Michael Caine gives probably the best straight dramatic performance we have seen from him. At once a sympathetic and confused character, he is excellent. All three sisters have their own individual interest, but Farrow's character, while on the surface the most superficial, turns out to have soemthing underneath that shows her as the perfect example of the facade that is felt by the middle-class. In this kind of insight, Allen is master.
His use of himself is also probably the best, partly for being the most restrained use of himself. It seems like a genuine exploration, rather than just a playing about.
Manhattan is of course beautiful, if not quite the star, due to the great interest we have in the characters. The ensemble cast suits Allen as he is able to really draw even the smallest things our of interactions.
This is Allen's best drama we have seen. It displays his mastery of the realist format within a certain setting (the lines are still distinctly Allen-esque theatrical, but this has its own realist quality. The use of voiceover, often criticised elsewhere, is flawless. It gives us insight and is not intrusive). A very good film.
Allen has ironed out the tics that made his films sometimes rather too meta-, and he does what he does best, which is giving us the true lives of true characters, and, better than that, people. These may be people who live a closeted bourgeois life, but they are still people, and his portrayal of them is excellent.
Michael Caine gives probably the best straight dramatic performance we have seen from him. At once a sympathetic and confused character, he is excellent. All three sisters have their own individual interest, but Farrow's character, while on the surface the most superficial, turns out to have soemthing underneath that shows her as the perfect example of the facade that is felt by the middle-class. In this kind of insight, Allen is master.
His use of himself is also probably the best, partly for being the most restrained use of himself. It seems like a genuine exploration, rather than just a playing about.
Manhattan is of course beautiful, if not quite the star, due to the great interest we have in the characters. The ensemble cast suits Allen as he is able to really draw even the smallest things our of interactions.
This is Allen's best drama we have seen. It displays his mastery of the realist format within a certain setting (the lines are still distinctly Allen-esque theatrical, but this has its own realist quality. The use of voiceover, often criticised elsewhere, is flawless. It gives us insight and is not intrusive). A very good film.
The Purple Rose Of Cairo
1985 Woody Allen, Allen not himself in it, letting Jeff Daniels mess aroud with Mia Farrow this time.
Incidentally, we think we prefer Keaton to Farrow. Less whiny. Though Farrow is still a decent actress. Allen again has the b-jokes firing on all cylinders, which is always a decent ways of passing 90 minutes, The premise is a good one and smartly executed. We get somke nice absurdist juxtapositions. Also, the evocation of the Depression era, if slightly rammer down your throat, is interesting and leads to some good sets of fairgrounds, bars, music shops and apartments.
The plot, for some reason after being rather cuddly, decides to give you a slap across the face at the end. This may have something to do with Allen's dislike of actors and the film industry, or he may have been attempting to do something different. It is certainly traumatic.
The rest of the film is pretty much the defintion of 'good enough', which is faint praise but praise all the same. Again, not Allen's best, but 90 minutes that could have been spent in a much worse manner.
Incidentally, we think we prefer Keaton to Farrow. Less whiny. Though Farrow is still a decent actress. Allen again has the b-jokes firing on all cylinders, which is always a decent ways of passing 90 minutes, The premise is a good one and smartly executed. We get somke nice absurdist juxtapositions. Also, the evocation of the Depression era, if slightly rammer down your throat, is interesting and leads to some good sets of fairgrounds, bars, music shops and apartments.
The plot, for some reason after being rather cuddly, decides to give you a slap across the face at the end. This may have something to do with Allen's dislike of actors and the film industry, or he may have been attempting to do something different. It is certainly traumatic.
The rest of the film is pretty much the defintion of 'good enough', which is faint praise but praise all the same. Again, not Allen's best, but 90 minutes that could have been spent in a much worse manner.
The Time That Remains
Really rather good film, part black comedy, part family fable, part political history. The project of Elia Suleiman.
Suleiman has a great visual style. The blocky shots, the dance like routines of people walking backwards and forwards. The sometimes blank faces, sometimes very graceful shots. It is a physical comedy in many ways. The uses of repition are both very funny on occasion and also thematically very strong. It gives the feelings not only of the listlessness of that particular time(s) and place(s), but also of a wider comment on the 'human condition', the uses of repeating things that have been done before and the same or slightly different reactions.
Suleiman also draws great perfomances out of his actors, Fuad in particular, with kudos also to the lady playing the mother at the end. The political situation is strongly seen through these characters. This does not mean we don't get a full picture, as clearly the incidents are intended as tropes and a wider comment on the history of events. But always personal, which works strongly in this case.
As well as the beautiful movements, often framed head on, the look of the film is often terrific. The walls and the interiors of the city are well evoked, as is much of the sharp and colorful clothing (again credit to the actor's usages). The final scenes, the fireworks with the lady in the foreground, is among the finest shots we have seen on the screen this year. The juxtaposition of the reticent, but expressive lady, with the history of her, of who is viewing her,, and the at once violent but vivd fireworks, is tremondous. Credit to Suleiman for letting it breathe.
This film isn't entirely perfect, it does not seem to know when or how to end. It rather loses its mojo when Fuad dies, the father who has been the main character and whose grace carries so much.
All the same, an excellent film. We will be keen to see more of Suleiman's work, as his distinctive style is soemthing we shall not tire of.
Suleiman has a great visual style. The blocky shots, the dance like routines of people walking backwards and forwards. The sometimes blank faces, sometimes very graceful shots. It is a physical comedy in many ways. The uses of repition are both very funny on occasion and also thematically very strong. It gives the feelings not only of the listlessness of that particular time(s) and place(s), but also of a wider comment on the 'human condition', the uses of repeating things that have been done before and the same or slightly different reactions.
Suleiman also draws great perfomances out of his actors, Fuad in particular, with kudos also to the lady playing the mother at the end. The political situation is strongly seen through these characters. This does not mean we don't get a full picture, as clearly the incidents are intended as tropes and a wider comment on the history of events. But always personal, which works strongly in this case.
As well as the beautiful movements, often framed head on, the look of the film is often terrific. The walls and the interiors of the city are well evoked, as is much of the sharp and colorful clothing (again credit to the actor's usages). The final scenes, the fireworks with the lady in the foreground, is among the finest shots we have seen on the screen this year. The juxtaposition of the reticent, but expressive lady, with the history of her, of who is viewing her,, and the at once violent but vivd fireworks, is tremondous. Credit to Suleiman for letting it breathe.
This film isn't entirely perfect, it does not seem to know when or how to end. It rather loses its mojo when Fuad dies, the father who has been the main character and whose grace carries so much.
All the same, an excellent film. We will be keen to see more of Suleiman's work, as his distinctive style is soemthing we shall not tire of.
Broadway Danny Rose
1984 Woody Allen comedy, not his most succesful film but decent enough to sit through all the same.
Allen doesn't have his A-Jokes out, but his b jokes are diverting enough when things don't go on too long. Mia Farrow's character, and the scenario built up around it, has a few laughs. As does the hopelessness of Allen's character's showbiz clients.
We are not entirely sure what the point was of shooting this film is in black and white, for Allen this is not a particularly visually interesting film. That seems like an indulgence.
One interesting part of this film, which we should say is decently amusing, is the warmth of it. Of Allen's character, as well as the story. Allen was slightly spikier in his early pieces such as 'Manhattan' and 'Annie Hall', in this film his character is downright very likeable. One is never hugely worried or anxious about proceedings, and the end of it could frankly fit quite nicely as an alternate ending for 'It's A Wonderful Life' (like to see that DVD extra).
All told, worth sitting through if you like Allen, nut not his very best.
Allen doesn't have his A-Jokes out, but his b jokes are diverting enough when things don't go on too long. Mia Farrow's character, and the scenario built up around it, has a few laughs. As does the hopelessness of Allen's character's showbiz clients.
We are not entirely sure what the point was of shooting this film is in black and white, for Allen this is not a particularly visually interesting film. That seems like an indulgence.
One interesting part of this film, which we should say is decently amusing, is the warmth of it. Of Allen's character, as well as the story. Allen was slightly spikier in his early pieces such as 'Manhattan' and 'Annie Hall', in this film his character is downright very likeable. One is never hugely worried or anxious about proceedings, and the end of it could frankly fit quite nicely as an alternate ending for 'It's A Wonderful Life' (like to see that DVD extra).
All told, worth sitting through if you like Allen, nut not his very best.
The Bad Lieutenant: Port Of Call New Orleans
Werner Herzog on a bigger budget than usual. Putatively a remake of Abel Ferrara's excellent, dark, tough original, this film in truth has next to nothing in common with that version.
At first, it suggests that it might be a disaster. It's difficult to buy the drug taking, which can seem rather tame, and the violence doesn't initially appear interesting. The cop case just seems like a bunch of cliches thrown together, the racial prophiling questionable. It is difficult to see what is going on with Herzog.
But things start to intrude. The great use of animals, your iguana-cam and Cage's illusions. The scenarios begin to break into absurdity. The rather dull central character becomes to start giggling at random moments. The it suddenly becomes clear; this film is a comedy, or rather a comedy of mania. From here on in, it has stretches of great entertainment, humour, and the kind of meta-cinema that genuinely is new.
Cage basically plays Kinski, with the madcap looks, the wild stares, the lean and bony face. The increasingly manic acting and plotlines are all backed up by the weight of non-comedic and sometimes rather plodding side-story, but this is necessary to see the full ridiculousness of the best bits.
Perhaps this film would have been better if it had decided to be a straight up farce. As it is, it has a kind of woozy, drowsy, feel, enlivened but the completely absurd completely intruding, all of a sudden and very violently, before dissappearing again. The blankness of certain characters as the mania unfolds is engaging and hillarious.
These developments can be read in two ways; either as a consequence of Cage's crack-use, or as Herzog trying to make a film in a different way. We would rather follow the latter. Sure, the opening is bad, and parts are slow and unfunny, but as noted this may be necessary to have the correct tone over which the moments of sublime ridiculousness can flourish. This is destined to be a cult movie, with some great absurdist lines and a scene where plot strands are tied up that is both hillarious and really quite a brave directoral move.
Takses its time to get going, and has to be watched a certain way, but Herzog has done something interesting and often a lot of fun here.
At first, it suggests that it might be a disaster. It's difficult to buy the drug taking, which can seem rather tame, and the violence doesn't initially appear interesting. The cop case just seems like a bunch of cliches thrown together, the racial prophiling questionable. It is difficult to see what is going on with Herzog.
But things start to intrude. The great use of animals, your iguana-cam and Cage's illusions. The scenarios begin to break into absurdity. The rather dull central character becomes to start giggling at random moments. The it suddenly becomes clear; this film is a comedy, or rather a comedy of mania. From here on in, it has stretches of great entertainment, humour, and the kind of meta-cinema that genuinely is new.
Cage basically plays Kinski, with the madcap looks, the wild stares, the lean and bony face. The increasingly manic acting and plotlines are all backed up by the weight of non-comedic and sometimes rather plodding side-story, but this is necessary to see the full ridiculousness of the best bits.
Perhaps this film would have been better if it had decided to be a straight up farce. As it is, it has a kind of woozy, drowsy, feel, enlivened but the completely absurd completely intruding, all of a sudden and very violently, before dissappearing again. The blankness of certain characters as the mania unfolds is engaging and hillarious.
These developments can be read in two ways; either as a consequence of Cage's crack-use, or as Herzog trying to make a film in a different way. We would rather follow the latter. Sure, the opening is bad, and parts are slow and unfunny, but as noted this may be necessary to have the correct tone over which the moments of sublime ridiculousness can flourish. This is destined to be a cult movie, with some great absurdist lines and a scene where plot strands are tied up that is both hillarious and really quite a brave directoral move.
Takses its time to get going, and has to be watched a certain way, but Herzog has done something interesting and often a lot of fun here.
Wednesday 9 June 2010
Vampyr
The Dreyer classic (1931), which isn't silent but does make a great use of cue cards. It is rarely a scary film, it is an odd, dreamy film that has an atmosphere of its own.
The uses of shadows and of uncertainty just creates an atmosphere that is downright odd. As does the blankness and sneering, fat, wide lips of our 'hero', the man always referred to as 'Allan Gray'. It is difficult to tell what is going on. He wanders about, meets people. Who is a vampire and who is not remains uncertain. What a vampire is remains uncertain.
This all does get a little bit samey, and it is easy to lose concentration as the lights and interiors rather fade into one. A few images do resonate, as they are repeated. The disembodied shadows, the complete looks of blankness each character gives to one another. As the plot gallops on who is who and what is what turns the whole thing into someone elses dream, where parts are skipped out and things might reverse back where they were at any moment.
Not a particularly satisfying viewing experience, but probably just about worth the trouble.
The uses of shadows and of uncertainty just creates an atmosphere that is downright odd. As does the blankness and sneering, fat, wide lips of our 'hero', the man always referred to as 'Allan Gray'. It is difficult to tell what is going on. He wanders about, meets people. Who is a vampire and who is not remains uncertain. What a vampire is remains uncertain.
This all does get a little bit samey, and it is easy to lose concentration as the lights and interiors rather fade into one. A few images do resonate, as they are repeated. The disembodied shadows, the complete looks of blankness each character gives to one another. As the plot gallops on who is who and what is what turns the whole thing into someone elses dream, where parts are skipped out and things might reverse back where they were at any moment.
Not a particularly satisfying viewing experience, but probably just about worth the trouble.
Das Cabinet Des Dr Caligari (The Cabinet of Dr Caligari)
This 1919 silent movie is one of the founding works of European cinema. Its influence is immense, but to its eternal credit it has certain things that still remain its own, not to be repeated.
It is still a decent watch. The plot rolls along decently and we have a surprisingly innovative use of storytelling trickery, along with, for the cinema of that time, a revolutionary ending. This just about holds the attention.
The really interesting part of the film though is the way it looks. The sharp angles of houses, the sloping roofs, the deeply expressionist sets. The uneasiness, the Kafka-esque sinister silliness of the character's top hats. The gritty macabre of Dr Caligari himself, the oddness, the mixture of toyness and horror or the somnambulist itself. All these are distinctly its own. The sets are stunning. One can barely think of a film where such imagination and sheer artistic thought has been put into the expressionist facades. This is the kind of visual art that cinema all too rarely attempts, in its desperate search for realism.
And the horror scenes contain their own kind of poetry. The placings of the actors, there framings within the inventively changing light, creates some beautiful and macabre tableaus.
Of course, it can be a little dull and has some odities that now would be ironed out. For this though, the look of the film remains a lesson.
It is still a decent watch. The plot rolls along decently and we have a surprisingly innovative use of storytelling trickery, along with, for the cinema of that time, a revolutionary ending. This just about holds the attention.
The really interesting part of the film though is the way it looks. The sharp angles of houses, the sloping roofs, the deeply expressionist sets. The uneasiness, the Kafka-esque sinister silliness of the character's top hats. The gritty macabre of Dr Caligari himself, the oddness, the mixture of toyness and horror or the somnambulist itself. All these are distinctly its own. The sets are stunning. One can barely think of a film where such imagination and sheer artistic thought has been put into the expressionist facades. This is the kind of visual art that cinema all too rarely attempts, in its desperate search for realism.
And the horror scenes contain their own kind of poetry. The placings of the actors, there framings within the inventively changing light, creates some beautiful and macabre tableaus.
Of course, it can be a little dull and has some odities that now would be ironed out. For this though, the look of the film remains a lesson.
The Exorcist
This hugely influential, genuinely seminal horror film has quite a reputation. And it deserves it; it is indeed an excellent film.
It is not massively scary. The effects are a bit disgusting, with moments of shock, but in our modern age the tricks have been repeated and they are not particularly noticeable. More interesting is the use of Christian and sexual imagery withing the 'horror' scenes. This is still something geuinely different. It is also something that is genuinely interesting, setting the film apart from its peers.
The film doesn't operate on big tension and shocks, but on the coming together of ideas, the very substance of our beliefs. The crises of Christianity are interestingly explored, the questions, while maybe not entirely left open, are never simply reduced. The use of the young priest with this is expert. He is so much more than a cipher, he is a real person who we can explore the mysteries through. Indeed, all the characterisation and development is excellent, the acting exemplary, especially Jason Miller as Father Karras.
So this film, with its exploration through its plotting of such strands as body-horror and growing up, is a very interesting one. It is also entertaining. The plot is lively, and the action is there. One criticism is that the pacing is slightly odd; the lead up too long and the pay off too short. It sometimes feels that we head off down an alley only to turn back. But these are mild criticisms. It is a great watch.
All this intelligence and entertainment, along with a few haunting images, some interesting use of zoom-in/out, a generally pleasing aesthetic, and a few intrusions of cool music (tubular bells) make for a fine film. Rightly a classic.
It is not massively scary. The effects are a bit disgusting, with moments of shock, but in our modern age the tricks have been repeated and they are not particularly noticeable. More interesting is the use of Christian and sexual imagery withing the 'horror' scenes. This is still something geuinely different. It is also something that is genuinely interesting, setting the film apart from its peers.
The film doesn't operate on big tension and shocks, but on the coming together of ideas, the very substance of our beliefs. The crises of Christianity are interestingly explored, the questions, while maybe not entirely left open, are never simply reduced. The use of the young priest with this is expert. He is so much more than a cipher, he is a real person who we can explore the mysteries through. Indeed, all the characterisation and development is excellent, the acting exemplary, especially Jason Miller as Father Karras.
So this film, with its exploration through its plotting of such strands as body-horror and growing up, is a very interesting one. It is also entertaining. The plot is lively, and the action is there. One criticism is that the pacing is slightly odd; the lead up too long and the pay off too short. It sometimes feels that we head off down an alley only to turn back. But these are mild criticisms. It is a great watch.
All this intelligence and entertainment, along with a few haunting images, some interesting use of zoom-in/out, a generally pleasing aesthetic, and a few intrusions of cool music (tubular bells) make for a fine film. Rightly a classic.
Tuesday 8 June 2010
Interiors
1978 drama from Woody Allen, with a pointed lack of jokes that make it perhaps more sincere than any other film we can remember seeing. For this, it is a good film, a gripping film, and a flawed film. It did give us a good opportunity to consider Allen's art, stripped of the comedy he himself knows and notes is often used as a defence mechanism.
The family drama is hard hitting, bleak, and slightly open to parody. It also takes liberally from O'Neill's 'Long Day's Journey Into Night'. Indeed, it is remarkably like a play. Without the gags to distract, we seen even more that all of Allen's film scripts are in fact those of the theatre. This makes the dialogue seem sometimes stilted and certainly not exactly realist. This isn't necessarilly a criticism of the dialogue, which can be excellent, though it can fall into over-wordy explanations.
Allen is though a realist in that he paints very accurate characters. He examines the actual though processes, not always genius or high-fallutin', of actual people. This is where his characterisation is so effective, expecially in portraying relationships.
Allen's filming style is ocasionally pretty, largely unobtrusive, but fails to truly linger on and create images of outstanding beauty like the all time masters do (a ridiculous standard to hold anyone by). He does not quite succeed in unifying symbolically or an images; instead he has an impression of a lack of universailty.
For all this, the plot is interesting and the great portraits keep us gripped. The plot rather collapses/goes off the rails at the end, and the whole thing becomes slightly thrown together and hysterical. Yet we're not here to see pin point precision; we're here to see Allen's people (especially Keaton, again the centre of all attention and outshining the others in emotional depth and vibrancy). He shows us these, and he makes supremely watchable films.
The family drama is hard hitting, bleak, and slightly open to parody. It also takes liberally from O'Neill's 'Long Day's Journey Into Night'. Indeed, it is remarkably like a play. Without the gags to distract, we seen even more that all of Allen's film scripts are in fact those of the theatre. This makes the dialogue seem sometimes stilted and certainly not exactly realist. This isn't necessarilly a criticism of the dialogue, which can be excellent, though it can fall into over-wordy explanations.
Allen is though a realist in that he paints very accurate characters. He examines the actual though processes, not always genius or high-fallutin', of actual people. This is where his characterisation is so effective, expecially in portraying relationships.
Allen's filming style is ocasionally pretty, largely unobtrusive, but fails to truly linger on and create images of outstanding beauty like the all time masters do (a ridiculous standard to hold anyone by). He does not quite succeed in unifying symbolically or an images; instead he has an impression of a lack of universailty.
For all this, the plot is interesting and the great portraits keep us gripped. The plot rather collapses/goes off the rails at the end, and the whole thing becomes slightly thrown together and hysterical. Yet we're not here to see pin point precision; we're here to see Allen's people (especially Keaton, again the centre of all attention and outshining the others in emotional depth and vibrancy). He shows us these, and he makes supremely watchable films.
Manhattan
1979 classic from Woody Allen, along with 'Annie Hall' one of his two perhaps most lauded films, both falling loosely into a genre of spohisticated romance and comedy (it would seem bizarre to call either a 'rom-com').
It is the most beautiful of Allen's films we have come across, hands down. The black and white cinematography, the shots of the smoky bridge. The cars and the lights behind them. Allen is perhaps not a painter in the beauty he creates, but he still shows us the (often insides of) a beautiful city with its shimmering daytime lights. The larger artistic sweep is exacerbated by the Gershwin score, which may only come in to stir at the beginning and the end but is memorable none the less. The scene in the planetarium is photographically beutiful, even in not one unified symbol perhaps comes out.
Thematically, this is also one of his more intelligent works. It does not follow the so traditional template, and the famous and curious ending offers us possibilities beyond what is perhaps otherwise in Allen. Se around this are some decent, if occasionally a little stilted performances (though never from the still-wonderful Keaton). The jokes are never set ups, but flow naturally, and are good.
THis film isn't perhaps quite so straightforward snappy and entertaining as others, but can lay claim to be Allen's best work for its memorable artistry, intelligent plotting, and fascinating conclusion. A wonderful fim, enjoyed this time as much as last.
It is the most beautiful of Allen's films we have come across, hands down. The black and white cinematography, the shots of the smoky bridge. The cars and the lights behind them. Allen is perhaps not a painter in the beauty he creates, but he still shows us the (often insides of) a beautiful city with its shimmering daytime lights. The larger artistic sweep is exacerbated by the Gershwin score, which may only come in to stir at the beginning and the end but is memorable none the less. The scene in the planetarium is photographically beutiful, even in not one unified symbol perhaps comes out.
Thematically, this is also one of his more intelligent works. It does not follow the so traditional template, and the famous and curious ending offers us possibilities beyond what is perhaps otherwise in Allen. Se around this are some decent, if occasionally a little stilted performances (though never from the still-wonderful Keaton). The jokes are never set ups, but flow naturally, and are good.
THis film isn't perhaps quite so straightforward snappy and entertaining as others, but can lay claim to be Allen's best work for its memorable artistry, intelligent plotting, and fascinating conclusion. A wonderful fim, enjoyed this time as much as last.
Annie Hall
The 1977 Woody Allen classic, we watched it a few years back, liked it very much, and we still do.
This film is, to be trite, very sweet and very funny. It is also on ocassion beautiful.
The humour in non-early Allen is rarely quickfire, and perhaps on only two or three ocassions is wild and lasting (the set up gags like the cousin driving). But throughout he keeps a high standard of constant clowning, there is a great anticipatory skill in this.
The characters are marvellously sketched and, if not immediately coming into our hearts, do so, creeping up over time. In many ways Allen's films are sadder than one remembers them being; they have uplifting moments, one remembers the beautiful parts, but ultimately the wholes can be rather wistful, verging on the melancholy.
Allen plays his traditional part excellently, but the real star is Diane Keaton. Beautiful, heavily influential in her fashion, and changeable in a way that strikes as so much more realistic than the traditional mono-characters. She makes this film a classic, and her partnership with Allen is a great success.
One that has to be seen, and once seen, will be loved. Then it should be seen again.
This film is, to be trite, very sweet and very funny. It is also on ocassion beautiful.
The humour in non-early Allen is rarely quickfire, and perhaps on only two or three ocassions is wild and lasting (the set up gags like the cousin driving). But throughout he keeps a high standard of constant clowning, there is a great anticipatory skill in this.
The characters are marvellously sketched and, if not immediately coming into our hearts, do so, creeping up over time. In many ways Allen's films are sadder than one remembers them being; they have uplifting moments, one remembers the beautiful parts, but ultimately the wholes can be rather wistful, verging on the melancholy.
Allen plays his traditional part excellently, but the real star is Diane Keaton. Beautiful, heavily influential in her fashion, and changeable in a way that strikes as so much more realistic than the traditional mono-characters. She makes this film a classic, and her partnership with Allen is a great success.
One that has to be seen, and once seen, will be loved. Then it should be seen again.
Dogtooth
This strange, entertaining and shocking film is a recent release.
The central story of the gated-children is at times very funny. Especially with the use of word games and visual imagery. However, the film is smart enough to not just let us laugh at what, on paper, does indeed seem like a form of terror. We can become uncomfortable at our own laughter, and our laughter can lead us to question what we are seeing. This kind of 'look again'/ 'double take' is key to the film; the subversion of language makes us often suspect things of the characters, leads us into a state of constant uncertainty. The sheer lighting adds to a slightly washed out feel of the piece.
Is this film about simulacrum and capitalsim? About corruption? About falsity? Or about all. It certaintly requires thought from the audience, even of the speed of the piece does not allow too much of this withing the ninety minutes itself.
The acting is excellent, though we are still slightly uncertain about the uses of violence. They are extremely shocking and starightforward within the context of the film, which takes away much of the dreamy atmosphere? How much does the film earn itself its violence? Nearly completely, but perhaps not quite. A few more follow up scenes on the consequences and the natue of the violence might have made the intrusions, though doubtless powerful, a little less aberrant.
Indeed, a few extra scenes, maybe twenty minutes, may have done this film some good. Not that we didn't enjoy the ending; it may have left most of the audience restless, but it was a smart way of exploring the issues, if not satisfying for the classic movie experience. But this film wasn't trying to tick all the traditional boxes.
A film at times fun, at times horrifying, and nearly always entertaining. Largely avoids being overly 'kooky', and instead is a fascinating comment. Recommended.
The central story of the gated-children is at times very funny. Especially with the use of word games and visual imagery. However, the film is smart enough to not just let us laugh at what, on paper, does indeed seem like a form of terror. We can become uncomfortable at our own laughter, and our laughter can lead us to question what we are seeing. This kind of 'look again'/ 'double take' is key to the film; the subversion of language makes us often suspect things of the characters, leads us into a state of constant uncertainty. The sheer lighting adds to a slightly washed out feel of the piece.
Is this film about simulacrum and capitalsim? About corruption? About falsity? Or about all. It certaintly requires thought from the audience, even of the speed of the piece does not allow too much of this withing the ninety minutes itself.
The acting is excellent, though we are still slightly uncertain about the uses of violence. They are extremely shocking and starightforward within the context of the film, which takes away much of the dreamy atmosphere? How much does the film earn itself its violence? Nearly completely, but perhaps not quite. A few more follow up scenes on the consequences and the natue of the violence might have made the intrusions, though doubtless powerful, a little less aberrant.
Indeed, a few extra scenes, maybe twenty minutes, may have done this film some good. Not that we didn't enjoy the ending; it may have left most of the audience restless, but it was a smart way of exploring the issues, if not satisfying for the classic movie experience. But this film wasn't trying to tick all the traditional boxes.
A film at times fun, at times horrifying, and nearly always entertaining. Largely avoids being overly 'kooky', and instead is a fascinating comment. Recommended.
Stardust Memories
This 1980 Woody Allen movie is a decent film.
We have Woody being Woody, not throwing out the big or quick-fire laughs he occasionally can but certainly being good enough to keep us entertained.
The interesting parts of it are really the plot, the themes, and the side characters.
We have a plot that explores a number of avenues Allen works in, the artistic vocation and the simultaneous difficulties and sillinesses of success. This is interestingly enough done, without really adding anything new.
Ditto to the themes which are really quite fundamental; well, it's the meaning of life largely. Presented in the Allen-centric way he finds it difficult to not go around in circles, but is honest enough to admit that.
The relationships are quite cute, and just about realistic, even if Allen does make his character rather more likely than could seem obviously possible. The film is classily shot if not beautifully. The scenes at the field near the end are clearly flirting with re-demonstrations of the seventh seal, this is all quite nice but not ground breaking.
An interesting and thoughtful piece from Allen.
We have Woody being Woody, not throwing out the big or quick-fire laughs he occasionally can but certainly being good enough to keep us entertained.
The interesting parts of it are really the plot, the themes, and the side characters.
We have a plot that explores a number of avenues Allen works in, the artistic vocation and the simultaneous difficulties and sillinesses of success. This is interestingly enough done, without really adding anything new.
Ditto to the themes which are really quite fundamental; well, it's the meaning of life largely. Presented in the Allen-centric way he finds it difficult to not go around in circles, but is honest enough to admit that.
The relationships are quite cute, and just about realistic, even if Allen does make his character rather more likely than could seem obviously possible. The film is classily shot if not beautifully. The scenes at the field near the end are clearly flirting with re-demonstrations of the seventh seal, this is all quite nice but not ground breaking.
An interesting and thoughtful piece from Allen.
Thursday 3 June 2010
The End Of Summer
Another Ozu film. After our confused experiences of 'Tokyo Story', and our gradual enjoyment of 'Good Morning', we now feel we are really starting to enter into the greatness of Ozu's work.
The static cameras, the way the characters talk directly facing, all has a certain effect. It requires a thoughtfulness of the viewer not just intellectually, but also an engagement with the worker aesthetically and thematically. When the film appears not entirely natural, almost spaced out (but not quite) in its manners and pace, this is merely a recognition of the pace of life. And then, of course, it all passes in a flash, and all is gone.
The style and the lengths still take a certain amount of getting used to. An unthinking cynic would accuse it at times of slipping into over delicacy. Yet, we feel we have left the departure gate of this stage.
The Japanese style of 'mono no aware' ('the transient nature of things') is to the fore, with quiet moments that do not so much pack a punch, but gently unfold their truths across time. Ozu's films aren't about linear narrative or explanations. They're about watching the films across their timescales (no one scene can be abstracted) and understandign how this is the nature of things, this is not an explanation, but it is a reality). The same actors remain calm or otherwise, the breaks being extra affecting. When a line is allowed that expresses in some way the understanding of the situation, it largely avoids coming across as didactic. Instead, it just emphasises the clearness of the piece.
Certain scenes at the end, with the weight of the previous film behind them, have an entirely immanent grandeur. We shall have to re-watch and watch more of Ozu's work, to fully enter his world. For now, we are not only starting to enjoy his films, but strating to understand why we do so, as well.
The static cameras, the way the characters talk directly facing, all has a certain effect. It requires a thoughtfulness of the viewer not just intellectually, but also an engagement with the worker aesthetically and thematically. When the film appears not entirely natural, almost spaced out (but not quite) in its manners and pace, this is merely a recognition of the pace of life. And then, of course, it all passes in a flash, and all is gone.
The style and the lengths still take a certain amount of getting used to. An unthinking cynic would accuse it at times of slipping into over delicacy. Yet, we feel we have left the departure gate of this stage.
The Japanese style of 'mono no aware' ('the transient nature of things') is to the fore, with quiet moments that do not so much pack a punch, but gently unfold their truths across time. Ozu's films aren't about linear narrative or explanations. They're about watching the films across their timescales (no one scene can be abstracted) and understandign how this is the nature of things, this is not an explanation, but it is a reality). The same actors remain calm or otherwise, the breaks being extra affecting. When a line is allowed that expresses in some way the understanding of the situation, it largely avoids coming across as didactic. Instead, it just emphasises the clearness of the piece.
Certain scenes at the end, with the weight of the previous film behind them, have an entirely immanent grandeur. We shall have to re-watch and watch more of Ozu's work, to fully enter his world. For now, we are not only starting to enjoy his films, but strating to understand why we do so, as well.
The New World
This Terrence Malick film is hailed as either boring, or a transcendent masterpiece. We found it neither in particular, but rather a solid, fitfully thoughtful, interesting if never quite asending film.
The shots of nature are wonderful, and the best thing about it. Perhaps it would be even better on the big screen, able to daw one further into the forest atmosphere. As it was we enjoyed the running water, the beautiful rivers. There was great power in the contrast of the natural world with the settlers' arid wastelands. Perhaps the most effective moments linearly were when our heroine was being straightjacketed, almost literally, into the artifical and dirty ways of the English.
The performance of the female lead, whose true name is presumably 'Pocahontas', is indeed terrific. She is natural enough for her beauty not to be an obstacle. Colin Farrell does rather a lot of low-brows glowering, but both he and Christian Bale just about hold up their side of the bargain.
We were constantly waiting for this film to take off. Not that it is slow or boring, or aimless, but rather that it never quite turns the booster-engines on. Perhaps this, on a fifty foot screen, would have been provided by the sounds and colours of the forest. As it is we saw a good film, but one unlikely to affect our futures greatly.
The shots of nature are wonderful, and the best thing about it. Perhaps it would be even better on the big screen, able to daw one further into the forest atmosphere. As it was we enjoyed the running water, the beautiful rivers. There was great power in the contrast of the natural world with the settlers' arid wastelands. Perhaps the most effective moments linearly were when our heroine was being straightjacketed, almost literally, into the artifical and dirty ways of the English.
The performance of the female lead, whose true name is presumably 'Pocahontas', is indeed terrific. She is natural enough for her beauty not to be an obstacle. Colin Farrell does rather a lot of low-brows glowering, but both he and Christian Bale just about hold up their side of the bargain.
We were constantly waiting for this film to take off. Not that it is slow or boring, or aimless, but rather that it never quite turns the booster-engines on. Perhaps this, on a fifty foot screen, would have been provided by the sounds and colours of the forest. As it is we saw a good film, but one unlikely to affect our futures greatly.
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