Friday, 1 December 2023
Monday, 1 March 2021
2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY - A Critical Analysis of the Film and its Soundtrack (Revised Version)
AND ITS SOUNDTRACK
BY
In its day, 2001: A Space Odyssey was one of the most talked-about films. The film divided audiences over all aspects of mise-en-scène and narrative: dialogue, sets, use of technology, music – and silence - not to mention the ‘enigmatic’ ending.
Especially in terms of a purely audio-visual experience, 2001 is still an important and highly influential film [to put it mildly!]. Now, 33 years later in the film’s projected year one can still refer to it as a masterpiece, part of its uniqueness owing somewhat to its novel use of classical music.
With this analysis, my strategies were to give an overview - a broad spectrum of opinion and insights - on Kubrick’s intentions; the history and philosophy of film and film music; and also the responses of critics and the public (or the responses implied by the related information). Because of the predominantly audio-visual nature and minimal dialogue, the narrative structure and plot had to be detailed more than would normally be necessary.
2001 is a meditation on the question of extraterrestrial intervention and its influence on the process of human evolution, it is, in Kubrick’s words: a “mythological documentary” (Walker, 1973: 241). It covers 4 million years, from the opening scene ‘The Dawn of Man’ in the Pleistocene era to the space technology of the 21st century. It is also a meditation on the paradox of civilization and dehumanisation; lots of questions are raised regarding metaphysics, theology, cosmology, the impact of technology on man’s consciousness, and his role in the universe of space and time.
“One was asked to experience it like a piece of sculpture, before one tried to understand it” (Walker, 1973: 242). The film being so predominantly visual, the role of the music becomes essentially intrinsic to its overall form.
The narrative structure is not like any other film of the time – it may be argued that it compares more with silent films on some levels, both aesthetically and audio/visually - in fact, 2001 dared to break from the post-silent cinematic tradition of telling a story largely through words. What Kubrick did that was radical was to bridge the gap between experimental non-narrative film and the traditional plot-driven film - or more, to assimilate and transcend the limitations of both extremes. So, even though the abstract and 'psychedelic' sequences in 2001 owe much to the experimenta of the silent era and more especially to the films of such mystic film luminaries as Jordan Belson and the Whitney brothers of the early sixties; 2001 achieved so much by utilizing such experimentation and developing the 'metaphorical narrative' within a large canvas.
[C] The opening credits are accompanied by Richard Strauss’s Thus Spake Zarathustra: It is elaborate and spectacular, yet, as with all Kubrick’s films, he doesn’t believe in wasting money on overly long and protracted credits – the music and the accompanying images are sufficient to instil drama and a feeling of anticipation.
[1a] The film begins with a long silence where only the noises of two clans of hominids, some tapirs and a leopard are heard. [1b] The first appearance of the monolith introduces the dies irae of György Ligeti’s Requiem, a very challenging and hypnotic piece replete with microtonal clusters, soaring overwhelmingly powerful wordless voices and orchestral sonorities conjuring supernatural states of mind – a sonic wormhole into the infinite. The music is almost too profound for the clumsy and trepid kinaesthetic response of the hominids to the irresistible black surfaces of the monolith. But of course the music is an expression of the inexpressible – the alien intelligence that dwarfs prehistoric man.
“Historically, dissonance – harsh, controversial, disconcerting sounds – has been treated in films as negative factor implying neurosis, evil” [etc.] (Bazelon, 1975: 88). However, in Space Odyssey this music – Ligeti’s – is used to evoke feelings of awe, almost reverence for the unknown, the terror experienced is part of the fabric of wonderment not abhorrence. In this I am certain the music succeeds admirably; this is more a compliment to the composer than to Kubrick, yet it took the director’s visionary powers to fuse it with the image.
Ligeti’s Requiem dissolves, leaving a residue of the ‘new man’ consciousness in the apes [1c]. [1d] The C-G-C chords of Strauss’s Zarathustra thump triumphantly as the camera tilts upward from the foot of the monolith to the famous shot of Earth, Moon and Sun in orbital conjunction – seen throughout the film. “The chords of Thus Spake Zarathustra reverberate more profoundly at the ‘Dawn of Man’ than any verbal commentary couched in a pseudo-Genesis style” (Walker, 1973: 245).
[1e] The sequence of the bone hurled by the most advanced ape cuts to…[2a-b-c-d]...the atomic bomb satellite and the courtly grace of Johann Strauss’s Blue Danube Waltz plunges us into what looks like a Newtonian universe of clockwork and precision. The Blue Danube and the spinning Hilton Space Station have a symbiotic relationship – the waltz gains a greater aesthetic drama when thrown into the equation of technology in the darker reaches of space. The waltz also acts as “muzak – ‘happy-music’ for space travellers” (Manvell and Huntley, 1975: 253) for the Pan Am space shuttle’s flight, delivering the space scientist to the station, the Blue Danube thereby serves many functions.
This urbane irony, in 3/4 time, the 19th century waltz of clockwork elegance aligned to the space hardware moving with 21st century precision could be seen as a cosmic Freudian docking procedure. When the orchestra swells there is a momentary lilt in the music – the breath and heartbeat of history echoing through the backdrop of mute darkness. As to why the director chose this music, one enthusiastic viewer wrote to Kubrick advancing the theory that “centuries ago 3/4 time was referred to as ‘perfect time’ and that it best described the motion of the universe” (Agel, 1970: 191). Whether this notion is spurious or not, it remains that with these juxtapositions of music and image, Kubrick has created an innovative narrative approach. The music’s most eloquent irony is in the fake Nietzschean world of man as superman and the banal dialogue abounding around his space toys while the elegant cosmic law-abiding metrical rhythm steers us through to the moon base. Via the chocolate box waltz, Kubrick’s black humour and cynicism could be asking us to question this imperfect evolution generated by simian violence to the passive-aggressive Americans of corporate interplanetary conquests.
The music is not used to emphasize a character’s action, emotion or dialogue – in fact, virtually none of the music is underscored – the music is practically on equal footing to the imagery, and together they act as a dialogue. “2001 aspired not to the condition of a science fiction novel but to that of music.” (Kubrick in Baxter, 1997: 215). About the film and the use of music and image Kubrick says: “It attempts to communicate more to the subconscious and to the feelings than to the intellect.” (Agel, 1970: 7). Of the 141 minutes of running time (originally 160) there are only 40 minutes of dialogue.
[3a] In the region of the Tycho crater on the Earth’s moon the monolith has reappeared – after 4 million years. A lunar shuttle is sent with space scientists, who, in their masked mortal nervousness discuss sandwiches and fillings. Ligeti’s Lux Aeterna is heard when we view the vehicle from the wastes of the lunar landscape, the music fades out momentarily during the empty dialogue and then fades back in as we contemplate with the astronauts what lies ahead at Tycho. I feel this is a mistake; dialogue at this point serves no purpose and only diminishes the quality and energy of this scene. [*EDIT - on further analysis, there is no mistake whatsoever: The dialogue, no matter how commonplace or trivial, is the whole point. This is actually Kubrick's way of delivering metadata on the flawed nature of man, and that evolution works in seemingly unreliable ways]. However, this is only a brief lapse and the return of the music restores our feelings of unearthliness. The Lux Aeterna music (scored for voices alone) has transparent yet ominous strands of sound, the voices cluster with electronic-like timbres and sometimes give the impression of souls lost in time…the spectres of an earlier odyssey…or, the premonitory voices of the future leaking into space and out of time?
[3b] The astronauts arrive at the excavation site of TMA-1, the NASA term for the monolith. For the second time we hear the awe-inspiring music from Ligeti’s Requiem – the sentinel: alien intelligence manifesting as music. The astronauts respond just as the apes did 4 million years before - tentatively touching the monolithic surface. Like typical tourists they line up - with Earthling vulgarity - for a photograph of national pride. But suddenly their myopic self-aggrandising behaviour is shattered “as if they were being mown down by machine gun bullets” (Walker, 1973: 251): it is an ear-piercing signal emanating from the monolith.
Once again the Earth and Sun are in conjunctive orbit. During this whole scene all we hear is the music and this shattering din, no dialogue has transpired (thankfully). Here again, the mystery, the realisations and questions have full impact purely through music and image; of course this is not unusual in cinema (in brief or bridging sections), but 2001 makes profound and extensive use of this.
No sooner has the deafening signal faded into our mental recesses, when the scene cuts to us finding ourselves floating in eternity – drifting with the tide of the Discovery on the Jupiter Mission 18 months later. [4a] The Adagio from the Gayaneh ballet suite of Aram Khachaturian is the only music that features in this section of the film; this and the extended silences help to imbue a feeling of isolation. While the only two conscious astronauts engage in on-board procedures in unemotional numbness, the Armenian melodic lines of the Adagio unfold forlornly. However, despite the sombreness of this music, there is a floating, mysterious quality here that seems to etch into the fabric of space. The slowness of the Adagio seems to correspond perfectly with the motion of bodies in weightlessness (celestial mechanics).
[4b] A growing concern about a possible computer malfunction develops. This sequence is without music, both astronauts don’t realise their discussion regarding HAL is being lip-read, the suspense created by our realisation of this builds, and then…cuts climactically for intermission.
[4c] When the cybernetic conflict finally occurs between man and machine and all but one astronaut are terminated, the film doesn’t assault us with clichéd ‘conflict music’. Instead we find ourselves in the silence of space as the lone astronaut David Bowman goes through various space-walking manoeuvres. The claustrophobic sound of Bowman’s breathing is all we hear right through to the disengaging of the computer HAL’s higher cortical functions. With the rhythm of breath the tension mounts, and during this sequence we the audience are breathing those breaths, and through this identification are made more acutely aware of the vast vacuum surrounding us.
The computer’s voice has been bland but somehow more human and emotional than anyone else’s throughout the whole film – the paradox of evolution and artificial intelligence. This narrative theme hits home even more poignantly as HAL sings the only song in the film while Bowman performs the lobotomy. The sound of human breathing acts as a counterpoint to the machine’s swan song.
[5a] The third part ‘Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite’ opens with the monolith gleaming in the light of celestial bodies against the blackness. For the third time we are thrust into the astonishing realm of Ligeti’s Requiem, the following sequences are some of the most extraordinary ever filmed in the history of cinema. “Kubrick’s ambition in 2001 is, in some ways, to return to cinema the notion of film as experience, a notion that has often taken second place to the medium’s narrative aspirations.” While one of the film’s concerns is the experimenting with narrative, “it seems equally concerned with creating a visual and aural experience so unique that audiences will feel that they are experiencing film for the first time.” (Falsetto, 1994: 48)
“The nine moons of Jupiter are in orbital conjunction (a near-impossible astronomical occurrence)” (Agel, 1970: 221). This occurs as Bowman, in pursuit of the monolith, is plunged into the stargate –there is a musical montage at this point where two pieces by Ligeti overlap – the Requiem and the orchestral work Atmospheres. [5b] Atmospheres provides an eerie intensification to the “abstract expressionist art work” and solarized landscapes - where the “spatial and temporal ambiguity itself becomes the subject of the sequence.” (Falsetto, 1994: 50). Kubrick’s indebtedness to avant-garde filmmakers such as Jordan Belson and the Whitneys is most apparent here, (Curtis, 1971: 170). To propel us along, Kubrick has included along with the music - random explosions or the inter-dimensional equivalent of sonic booms.
[5c] The sense of hurtling through the infinite subsides as the Lux Aeterna music filters in…[5d]…and the curious sounds of preternatural voices - fragments of Ligeti's Aventures - take us into the next sequence: the ‘Louis XVI rooms’. These strange sounds bare some resemblance to the Dadaist experiments of the twenties and musique concrète; they seem to follow Bowman as he discovers himself in startling moments of accelerated aging. “[T]he wizened chrysalis of the bedridden Bowman is raising his arm to the monolith, which has appeared at the foot of the deathbed” (Walker, 1973: 262). Bowman’s corpse is “subsumed into the monolith” and “an aureoled embryo, a perfect Star-Child” (Walker, 1973: 263) moves earthwards through space. [5e] Thus Spake Zarathustra emerges out of this scene just as the transformation has transpired, the Star-Child’s glowing eyes look back at us just as the tympani pound across the solar system and the majestic sound sustains this image of human transcendence.
Addendum: If we consider that the aliens thought that David Bowman would feel at home in an 18th century apartment (‘Louis XVI rooms’), then we can deduce that their world is situated around 250 light-years from Earth and that the world of Barry Lyndon is the latest state of humanity they have observed prior to intercepting Dave.
[E] The End Credits are accompanied by the Blue Danube Waltz. Why Kubrick chose to bring back interplanetary Vienna is uncertain and no opinions or ideas have been gleaned from the material examined. All I can suggest is that this is another touch of dry wit mixed with a hint of hope for the future of humanity, if not - its sense of humility (and humour) in this universe ‘peopled’ with beings of relative omnipotence.
The following is a recapitulation on why the film music is effective and how it successfully portrays or enhances certain actions or images throughout:
Besides its obvious associations with the theme of transcendence and the notion of the superman, Richard Strauss’s Thus Spake Zarathustra - from a purely musical point of view – bestows its visual component with enormous power. The ‘pre-recorded’ aspect does not diminish its tenor. The composer’s intentions (73 years previous) befit the theme of the film, and so (arguably) 2001 has provided an association that does not unduly affect the original aim of the music.
None of the pieces by Ligeti obey or conform to conventional notions of meter, harmony, melody, etcetera, the music is used for its poetic drama, it expresses equally well the beginning and end of the universe – infinitely ancient and infinitely futuristic. It has been argued that an original score should have been used (Alex North’s was rejected), or at least to have had Ligeti from start to finish. (Bazelon, 1975: 111). That may be a fair assertion, but very few film composers at that time could have done the film justice – Ligeti’s musical language was ‘light years’ ahead of them. Bebe and Louis Barron of Forbidden Planet fame may have been another possibility, but that’s another story. (Vale and Juno, 1994: 194).
The Blue Danube Waltz provides a wry look at the space industry and man at this stage of evolution “functions as a kind of muzak to get you up to the space station where Howard Johnson and Conrad Hilton have taken over” (Glass in Bazelon, 1975: 279). It is a double-edged sword: the waltz conveys grandeur on so many levels, tying history together. And despite the old Viennese associations “in the hands of Von Karajan the music becomes a work of art, the film helps dispel all of [those] associations, and we’re into a new audio-visual world” (Williams in Bazelon, 1975: 200).
Regarding the use of Khachaturian’s Adagio, Irwin Bazelon admits: “Moving slowly almost wistfully, the music’s undeniable linear flow suggests to a remarkable degree the calm progress of the ship through the dark vastness of outer space.” (Bazelon, 1975: 132). Interestingly, Bazelon doesn’t generally agree to the use of ‘pre-recorded’ music in film.
The rampant use of bleeping whooshing crashing noises in the majority of science fiction films is minimised and Kubrick’s scientifically accurate application of absolute silence in space allow for greater impact in terms of the music content. The latter consideration is largely ignored in nearly all other films of this ‘genre’ – deeming the public to be scientifically ignorant or unobservant.
Above all, given the subject matter, the cuing of musical episodes and the juxtaposing of these elements with extended periods of silence has created a filmic experience of such profundity. And yet, with such philosophical weight, as an art form it doesn’t lose sight of the necessity of a narrative structure (even if that be of an experimental nature), and thereby it successfully engages the audience.
But this is not an essay extolling the use of pre-recorded music in motion pictures. This is an assertion that the present film has made use of such music in a creative and remarkably innovative way.
It has been queried as to whether the use of pre-recorded music in 2001 is “a retrograde step, a return to the silent film?” (Manvell and Huntley, 1975: 253).
It is true, music was an integral part of the film experience in the ‘silent’ era, films like “Réné Clair’s ‘Entracte’(1924) and Fernand Léger’s ‘Ballet Mécanique (1924-25), in fact, abstract or ‘avant-garde’ film has depended on musical theory for much of its effect” (Monaco, 1977: 39).
James Monaco continues:
By the 1930’s Sergie Eisenstein, for his film Alexander Nevsky, constructed an elaborate scheme to correlate the visual images with the score by Prokofiev. In this film as in a number of others, such as 2001: A Space Odyssey, music often determines images.
(Monaco, 1977: 39)
However, there is nothing retrogressive about 2001 and its musical content. Given the experimental narrative structure, ambiguous imagery, and open-ended conclusion, 2001 is a film that challenged the soporific formulae of commercial entertainment. It is evident that this essentially non-verbal film invites us to actively interpret and question our senses and perceptions.
“Jean-Jacques Lebel described art as ‘the creation of a new world, never seen before, imperceptibly gaining on reality.’” (Mast and Cohen, 1979: 755)
BIBLIOGRAPHY AND WORKS CITED
Agel, Jerome (1970), The Making of Kubrick’s 2001,
New York: New American Library.
Baxter, John (1997), Stanley Kubrick A Biography,
London: Harper Collins.
Bawden, Liz-Anne (1976), The Oxford Companion to Film,
London: Oxford University Press.
Bazelon, Irwin (1975), Knowing the Score: Notes on Film Music,
New York: Arco Publishing.
Curtis, David (1971), Experimental Cinema,
Delta Publishing Co. Ltd.
Falsetto, Mario (1994), Stanley Kubrick Narrative and Stylistic Analysis,
Westport: Greenwood Publishing Group.
Lindgren, Ernst (1963), The Art of the Film,
Northhampton: John Dickens and Co. Ltd.
LoBrutto, Vincent (1997), Stanley Kubrick,
London: Penguin Group.
Manvell, Roger and John Huntley (1975) The Technique of Film Music,
New York: Focal Press.
Mast, Gerald and Marshall Cohen (1979), Film Theory and Criticism, Second Edition
New York: Oxford University Press.
Monaco, James (1977), How to Read a Film,
New York: Oxford University Press.
Vale, V. and Andrea Juno (1994), Re/Search #15: Incredibly Strange Music Volume II,
San Francisco: Re/Search Publications.
Walker, Alexander (1973), Stanley Kubrick Directs, London: Abacus/Sphere Books Ltd.
APPENDIX (Appendix 1 and 2 combined)
2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY
PLOT SEGMENTATION AND CUE EDIT
CROSS-REFERENCING, LISTING AND ANALYSIS OF MAJOR THEMES
C: Credit Titles R. Strauss: Thus Spake Zarathustra (only the music’s opening is used throughout whole film)
1: ‘The Dawn Of Man’: 4 million BCE, Australopithecines – human evolution from alien influences?
a. Silence (no music)
(Key Images: shots of landscapes from the Pleistocene era, groups of hominids and tapirs grazing on plants – hominid clans fight - leopard with dead zebra – hominid attacked by leopard)
b. G. Ligeti: Requiem – dies irae
(Key Images: Monolith’s first appearance – one clan of hominids gather around and touch it – Sun, Earth and Moon in orbital conjunction)
c. Silence (no music)
(Key Images: hominid clans fight - hominid discovers use of bone as weapon and kills rival leader)
d. R. Strauss: Thus Spake Zarathustra
(Key Images: hominid experiments with use of bone as weapon, slow-motion shots of tapirs falling to the ground)
e. Silence (no music)
(Key Images: hominid clan sit and eat the meat of slaughtered tapirs, hominid continues to play and experiment with bone as weapon – slow-motion shot: throws bone in air)
‘match cut’ from bone (primitive weapon) to atomic bomb satellite (modern weapon)
2: 2001 CE: Man’s conquest of space – the irony of human intelligence - the need for ‘national security’? – Existence of intelligent extraterrestrial life?
a. J. Strauss: Blue Danube Waltz
(Key Images: Space Station and Earth Space Craft from space, Dr Floyd and flight attendants in Earth Space Craft in zero-gravity - slow-motion shots)
b. Dialogue only (no music)
(Key Images: Dr Floyd and flight attendants in Earth Space Craft arrival at Space Station, Floyd reading zero-gravity toilet instructions, Floyd meeting with Russian scientists, Floyd’s picturephone conversation with daughter)
c. J. Strauss: Blue Danube Waltz
(Key Images: ‘Aries’ Shuttle leaving Space Station - ‘Aries’ Shuttle arrival on Lunar Base)
d. Dialogue only (no music)
(Key Images: Floyd meeting with fellow American scientists)
3: TMA-1 Excavation Site – Existence of intelligent extraterrestrial life?
a. G. Ligeti: Lux Aeterna
(Key Images: Lunar Shuttle and Lunar landscape)
b. G. Ligeti: Requiem, dies irae (signal to Jupiter at end)
(Key Images: Monolith – astronauts enter excavation by foot – astronauts touch monolith –
astronauts group around monolith for photo – signal: astronauts deafened - orbital conjunction)
4: ‘Jupiter Mission - 18 months later’ – Questions of human and artificial intelligence
a. A. Khachaturian: Gayaneh - Adagio (infrequent dialogue)
(Key Images: ‘Discovery’ craft exterior, ‘Discovery’ craft interior, Poole and Bowman involved in ‘everyday procedures’, Earth radio communications)
b. Dialogue and extended Silence (no music)
(Key Images: HAL: antenna malfunction, Bowman - in pod - space-walking – antenna, checking power unit inside, HAL lip-reading Bowman and Poole)
INTERMISSION
APPENDIX continued (Appendix 1 and 2 combined)
4: Jupiter Mission cont. – Human conflict with and eventual dominance over machine – the possibility of intelligent extraterrestrial life and its connection with Jupiter
c. Dialogue and extended Silence (no music) (astronaut breathing – HAL singing)
(Key Images: HAL lip-reading Bowman and Poole, Poole – in pod - space-walking – pod manoeuvred to attack – Poole floats off losing air, Bowman in pod to rescue Poole, astronauts in cryology: lives terminated – computer malfunction - Bowman in pod tries to re-enter ship - Bowman improvises airlock forced entry, Bowman inside HAL’s mainframe – HAL sings as lobotomization proceeds - screen image of Dr.Floyd divulging the real purpose of the mission)
5: ‘Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite’ - Is Jupiter a portal to the stars? - Is the Monolith a portal to the stars? Rebirth and Human transcendence
a. G. Ligeti: Requiem, dies irae – Atmospheres fades in at end
(Key Images: Bowman exiting ‘Discovery’, Monolith in space, Jupiter moons in orbital conjunction, Bowman in pod)
b. G. Ligeti: Atmospheres (explosions - fade out half way)
(Key Images: Bowman in pod, Bowman’s face intercut with ‘Star Gate’: alien landscapes and formations, Bowman’s eyes and colours intercut with ‘Star Gate’: alien abstractions)
c. G. Ligeti: Lux Aeterna - fade out to - (sounds of preternatural voices)
(Key Images: Bowman’s eyes - colours fading, Bowman emerging from pod)
d. G. Ligeti: Aventures (sounds of preternatural voices) – fade out to silence before deathbed
(Key Images: Louis XVI rooms, Bowman’s successively aging doubles – in space suite – at the table – in deathbed, monolith, glowing foetus merging with monolith)
e. R. Strauss: Thus Spake Zarathustra
(Key Images: ‘Star-Child’ – planets in orbital conjunction – Earth from space)
E. End Credits. J. Strauss: Blue Danube Waltz
DMR is a composer, writer, photographer, and multimedia technician who works under the moniker of Epoch Collapse. His music can be found on various sites.
Albums and tracks are available for purchase at Bandcamp (as digital downloads) :-
https://epochcollapse.bandcamp.com/
Other sites :-
https://soundcloud.com/epoch-collapse
https://www.mixcloud.com/dariuszroberte/
https://epoch-collapse-music.blogspot.com/2012/12/epoch-collapse-dark-ambient-industrial.html
YouTube -
Overture - György Ligeti: Atmospheres
Tracks included are of the edited versions in the original soundtrack and not the complete works.
The Complete Soundtrack (YouTube) -
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bSOoM2ih5Is&list=PL69JX3_fW92EwY8WiTX9qlnJTrxTMRsmx&index=2&t=0s
The album featured electronic interludes by Morton Subotnick (surname misspelt on the cover).
One drawback with this release was the fact that it didn't include Ligeti's Requiem
(the sections as used in the film).
However, the Ligeti works included are the complete originals, and not the edited soundtrack versions, which is far more satisfying a listening experience when separated from film.
Album also featured the Suite from Aniara, a space opera by Swedish composer,
Karl-Birger Blomdahl. Quite a "bonus track".
Columbia album of 2001 - TRACK LIST c/o Discogs :-
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dawn of Man scene: On set - a coffee break, a smoke, and time to read the news.
Opening night at the Capitol Theatre (Loew's Capitol), New York City. When Space Odyssey ended its run here, the theatre was closed and soon demolished.
Sunday, 28 February 2021
Thursday, 30 January 2020
EPOCH COLLAPSE - FILM NOTES AND REVIEWS
FILM REVIEWS
and film notes
[ ...and some one-liners ]
(FILMS IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER)
Journey Into Fear
The System (AKA The Girl-Getters)
The Pawnbroker
The Sword of Doom
________
Annihilation
Aniara
Smart Money (Alfred E. Green, 1931) 8/10
Jan 02, 2020
Made and released after Edward G. Robinson's signature mobster tour-de-force, Little Caesar. This film demonstrates - even more so - EGR's remarkable range as an actor. I wish I could recall the snappy one-liners in this crime caper - it's full to the brim with 'em. A real swell pic of the Pre-Code era, and the only film Robinson and Cagney did together (unbelievable, but true) - which is a shame, as this is dynamite, see.
Karloff had a cameo - he was only in the film for about 5 minutes - then he walked off (EGR: "Scram!"). Funny how cameos do that.
EGR was in a class all his own. A stupendously talented and versatile actor who was smart as a whip and highly astute. He saw through the machine (movie industry):-
'Robinson viewed Hollywood society as “vapid, polite, and vaguely vulgar,” and fashioned a circle of friends that included some of the most respected writers, artists, and musicians of his time.'
[from "Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir" by Karen Burroughs Hannsberry]
Duck Soup (Leo McCarey, 1933) 9.5/10
05 Sep, 2017
Duck, you sucker! This is the Marx Brothers at their anarchic best.
Rufus T. Firefly (Groucho) entices (and teases) Mrs. Teasdale (Margaret Dumont) with promises of connubial bliss....
...and then confesses, "All I can offer you is a Rufus over your head".
Unfortunately, the drop (watch your step) from the ingeniously anarchic Duck Soup (Paramount) to the limp, anodyne saccharine of At the Circus is precipitous, as it is for virtually all their MGM comedies - with the salient exception of A Night at the Opera.
Baby Face (Alfred E. Green, 1933) 9/10
09 Dec, 2017
A flawless film of the pre-code period; well, the only flaw, as far as I can see/hear, is the mispronunciation of Nietzsche - pronounced here as "Neechee". I'm not going to lose sleep over it. Barbara Stanwyck is at the top of the game, and superb in every way. The subject matter is not ground-breaking, but the rendering and performances thereof flesh it out to perfection.
The Thin Man (W.S. Van Dyke, 1934) 7/10
Jan 20, 2020
A decidedly droll detective (William Powell) finds himself on a planet ruled by drama queens, angry mobs, and hair oil. However, he seems to be the only one who sails from one calamitous situation to the next with complete composure. Said detective is also equipped with the canny, sagacious wit of a man who's decided that no-one in here is worth taking seriously - perhaps only his wife (Myrna Loy), who has the vampish and charmed countenance (and furs) of a feline-like flapper... those eyes, those legs.
A simple and unpretentious old '30's crime caper, with some very clever dialogue. Quite enjoyable.
Happiness (Aleksandr Medvedkin, 1935) 6/10
21 Sep, 2019
"With Chaplin, the gag is individualist. With Medvedkin it is socialist"
- S. Eisenstein
"Ah! This sinny is horrorshow and bolshy!" - Chris Marker (after a few drinks with Alex and his droogs at the Korova Milk Bar).
Jezebel (William Wyler, 1938) 7/10
26 May, 2018
Not Bette Davis's best, nor is it anywhere near the greatest film by William Wyler. However, Bette delivers something here that has become her trademark: It's as if she's a "stranger in a strange land", but the land is not of the rivers, hills, valleys, and towns of the film - it is the land of the mind, the terrain of the personality, a sea of psychic troubles, a place of shadows. And somehow no-one else can enter or fathom its contents - that is until she resolves to amend the damage she's left in her wake.
Wuthering Heights (William Wyler, 1939) 7.5/10
27 May, 2018
I could add this to my list, "LOUSY FILM MUSIC: Good, bad or ugly – even great films – ruined or destroyed by lousy scores/soundtracks"; I have a score to settle in this regard. Samuel Goldwyn (like Mayer) just loved his films to be layer cakes of sugary overblown orchestrations of high melodrama. So the film is heavily flawed in that regard - but that's hardly an anomaly given the modus operandi of many studios and/or producers. This drama hardly needs such a score as it is atmospherically lensed (in true Gothic fashion) - with some starkly effective shots of cliffs, gnarly trees and the district itself where it was filmed (set in England, of course, but shot in Janss Conejo Ranch, Thousand Oaks, California, USA - and MGM Studios). The performances, for the most part, are fairly solid, and the leads are appropriately intense. Apparently there were 72 takes at one point - as commanded by Wyler - much to the outrage and fury of Olivier; but it was worthwhile, as Olivier's acting came off very well - his "first great acting role for the cinema", as has been cited by numerous film critics. Merle Oberon has such extraordinary beauty, it seems preternatural, mystical - she glows like a jewel, and those eyes...!
I've been wanting to see Luis Buñuel's version for a while, and that was my intention this time. And I'm sure, as I'm a Buñuel aficionado, it might just be more worthwhile than this (hopefully). However, this was fine for a rewatch.
Of Mice and Men (Lewis Milestone, 1939) 7.5/10
10 Dec, 2019
The B/W cinematography is used well - lends itself effectively to the harsh surroundings, and the spare rough existence of farmhands, vagabonds, petty criminals on the lam, and the downtrodden in general. Made twenty years before Burgess Meredith's inimitable performances in The Twilight Zone - roles he's most renowned for. However, the latter's filmography is impressive, and I could cite a number on this and other sites that are worth a look. Here, Meredith is the smart one of the two travelling companions, who are always getting into tight corners because of misunderstandings and overstepping social boundaries - that's where Lon Chaney Jr comes in.
Lon Chaney Jr plays the part of the simple-minded man with the mind of a child and the strength of four men - no wonder he was given the role of the Frankenstein monster. In fact, there is a gentleness in his character, and a childish preciousness for small animals that he shares with the Monster - and sudden, dumb, irascible, heavy-handed wrath when scorned, or bad-mouthed.
Betty Field is not exactly the femme fatale, but there's sure something fatal about her - like a whining kitten in a trough full of hogs; like a rough pearl about to be crushed under a wagon wheel in the dust.
Extract from Burns' poem of 1785 (of which Steinbeck took one line for the title of his novel.) : -
"You saw the fields laid bare and empty,
And weary winter coming fast,
And cozy here, beneath the blast,
You thought to dwell,
Till crash! The cruel plough passed
Out through your cell.
That small heap of leaves and stubble,
Has cost you many a weary nibble!
Now you are turned out, for all your trouble,
Without house or holding,
To endure the winter's sleety dribble,
And hoar-frost cold.
But Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!"
Strange Cargo (Frank Borzage, 1940) 6/10
Jan 12, 2020
Almost realist in its dirt, mud, crudeness, toughness... only to be maligned by the sometimes perfunctory religious moral codes as it nears the finishing line. This mongrel of a movie, this venturesome escape caper, replete with some bold, intrepid, audacious, rambunctious misfits in the ensemble, was high end grit. Exceptional acting and characterization. Pity the studios decided to please the Hays Office [my guess is as good as yours here] with the priggish Christian messages further in - blindingly grasping for obligatory redemption. But still, it wasn't nearly as bad or heavy-handed as how my words are painting it now. The underlying search for the honourable in us all was well handled, up to a point; I think if there were no iconography, no signs, no asides to a particular faith, but simply an acknowledgement of a raw natural desire to redeem oneself, this film could have been truly excellent. Bloody good adventure in the first half, I'll have you know.
Perhaps the authors of the film should have read Nietzsche before embarking on a journey to find oneself, or a form of redemption :-
“The pathetic thing that grows out of this condition is called faith: in other words, closing one's eyes upon one's self once for all, to avoid suffering the sight of incurable falsehood. People erect a concept of morality, of virtue, of holiness upon this false view of all things; they ground good conscience upon faulty vision; they argue that no other sort of vision has value any more, once they have made theirs sacrosanct with the names of "God," "salvation" and "eternity." I unearth this theological instinct in all directions: it is the most widespread and the most subterranean form of falsehood to be found on earth.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ
The Lady Eve (Preston Sturges, 1941) 8/10
Jan 11, 2020
This superb comic escapade makes many other screwball comedies look tepid, smarmy, and dull. This one ignites with wit and charm without the cornball clichés that are fairly common in 1940's cine amusements. It's a firecracker from beginning to end! Preston Sturges' comedy satires were amongst the cleverest, most sophisticated, that were on offer.
Jane Eyre (Robert Stevenson, 1943) 8.5/10
(Orson Welles assoc. produced, and performed various other functions - assisted and contributed to script alterations, set changes, casting)
Jane Eyre is a great, darkly atmospheric and harrowing period drama. Orson Welles was uncredited assoc. prod, plus he changed sections of the script, and had a say in altering the sets, editing and casting. So he was also kind of uncredited assistant director to Robert Stevenson - and had done a lot more as a producer. He decided not to take credit, as he wanted Stevenson to be recognised and get the credit he deserved. I'm glad he and Selznick managed to persuade Herrmann to do the score. They might have had flowery schmaltz from Newman or Rózsa - but gladly, no. Aldous Huxley also contributed to the screenplay!
Film stars Orson Welles, Joan Fontaine, Margaret O'Brien, and Peggy Ann Garner as young Jane Eyre.
[....in a letter to 20th Century Fox, a Selznick attorney agreed to Welles receiving a producer credit if he wanted it:
"We have only just learned that Mr. Welles did a great deal more producing on the picture than we had previously known. We have been informed by people from your studio that Mr. Welles worked on the sets, changes in the script, in casting, among other things, and that he had charge of the editing ..."]
Journey Into Fear (Norman Foster, Orson Welles - co-director, 1943) 6/10
22 Dec, 2019
'Journey Into Fear' seems to have two conflicting visions or modus operandi: The pedestrian humdrum aspects would be those of Norman Foster - credited as "director"; the haunting, and more inspired visions, I'm sure would be those of Orson Welles (co-director, and uncredited). Pretty obvious that Orson was the one who pushed those haunting scenes, especially when taking into account that Foster, for 99% of his career, made hack jobs, and infantile quickies. A real shame, because if Welles had complete control, it might've been something comparative with Huston's Maltese Falcon, or better - his own Ambersons.
Meshes of the Afternoon (Maya Deren, 1943) 8/10
06 Apr, 2018
Meshes of the Afternoon (1943) by pioneering filmmaker Maya Deren (sometimes referred to as the 'high priestess of experimental film').
Meshes is a ritualist film with a language of dream imagery; it was strongly inspired by Deren's experiences of voodoo ritual in Haiti. A woman, played by Deren, goes through a series of self identity hallucinations and transformations. The woman encounters her doubles and a hooded figure with a mirror face - we assume the figure to be her soul or life force. The miraculous appearance and disappearance of objects is a motif of the paraphysical world she inhabits; a scene of a knife falling out of a loaf of bread - eerily mirrors Buñuel and Dalí's Un Chien andalou.
The film score by Teiji Ito was added 15 years after the making of the film. Ito utilizes the Sakura and other melodies from traditional Japanese music but merges them with Gagaku-like instrumentation and intense atonal harmonic structures. At times Ito's drums metronomically follow the movement of Deren or her 'double' climbing a stairs. Rhythm is a central structural force in the film, the inter-cutting of terrain and figure and interior is almost violent and the music adds a knife edge to the nightmarish episodes. The shattered mirror at the end signals her death - is she mirroring the mirror? Or is the mirror mirroring her? In previous scenes she had attacked herself with the knife, only to find the assailant to be a man (played by collaborator Alexander Hammid) - whose mirror image she in turn shatters. A ritual of the ultimate iconoclasm - iconoclasm of the self. It is arguably a surrealist film - although some may beg to differ, lamely asserting that Deren never used that word to describe 'Meshes'. Moreover, there are numerous objects the likes of which proliferate in the vocabulary of surrealism - telephones, knives, keys, faceless figures, loaves of bread. Regardless of any categorisation or association, it still stands as the pre-eminent American experimental film.
[Review written in 2006 for a program of experimental film - for a version of the film with a score by Teiji Ito, added in 1959.]
At Land (Maya Deren, 1944) 8/10
29 Jul, 2018
A dream-like visionary short from Maya Deren, the Queen of Surrealism. As if a seaside ERASERHEAD was made with nods to Marcel Duchamp and Salvador Dalí (the streams of consciousness, and seemingly extemporaneous visions from the unconscious); this is a film I'm sure David Lynch himself wished he'd made (but don't quote me on that). A short to rival her most celebrated work, MESHES OF THE AFTERNOON. I actually enjoyed this more than Buñuel's L'AGE D'OR, and Buñuel is in my top 5 of favourite directors. Deren's inscrutable but impish expression works perfectly; and this unphased countenance gives greater verisimilitude to the events and actions that abound as she explores, wanders and climbs through her realm of bizarre yet naturalistic incongruity. A chess game by the sea may remind one of Bergman's masterwork, THE SEVENTH SEAL. Magical.
Here is a Youtube of the film with a very effective soundtrack by Empusae -
youtu.be/FYdf8xxDlIg
The Uninvited (Lewis Allen, 1944) 6/10
Jan 03, 2020
The poster is more disturbing (awe-inspiring) than the ghost caper itself. In fact, it's more of a Gothic amusement, but not a comedy (a spectral melodrama) - with gnarly trees, cliffs yawning out to wild seas, and light-hearted banter about the terrors beyond. There are some rather engaging effects - in the ectoplasmic manifestations; and the picturesque locations are starkly beautiful. Though set in England, it was filmed at locations in San Francisco and Phoenix, Arizona (one would never guess). The characters are quite likeable, for the most part - if not effectively grim or surly (some are replete with conspiratorial chicanery).
A real picnic.
[EDIT: This film is a prime example of the misuse or overuse of music in Golden Age Hollywood, which is particularly prevalent in (but not exclusive to) the 1940's. They use sappy or cacophonous music like wallpaper - eternally in the background. Most films today suffer from similar, only the music is different - sometimes worse: Pop songs popping up all over.]
The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (John Huston, 1948) 10/10
05 Apr, 2018
Contender for the best in the west - with The Wild Bunch and Once Upon a time in the West. Possibly the greatest film from the '40s - with Citizen Kane, Shadow of a Doubt, The Third Man, The Maltese Falcon, White Heat, The Magnificent Ambersons, and The Killers as close company. Not as artful (in a baroque sense) as The Maltese Falcon or indeed Citizen Kane (both of which are of course deserved classics, and Kane being one of the supreme creations of that time), but substantially more powerful on almost every level. Bogart is a force to be reckoned with.
Westerns don't get any darker than 'The Treasure of the Sierra Madre' (John Huston, 1948). Both Bogart's greatest, and Huston's best film.
Along with Humphrey Bogart, the film also stars Tim Holt (who had - six years earlier - been in Orson Welles' magnificent second feature, 'The Magnificent Ambersons'); also starring John Huston's own father, Walter Huston, a true veteran of classic films. All knockout performances. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre is a timeless, and truly trailblazing western, being one of the earliest Hollywood films to be shot on location outside the US (in Mexico). One of the most powerful films of all time.
See it. See it again.
EDIT :-
*My list, BEST IN THE WEST goes into a short description of this "Neo Western". There are 151 films in the list so far. https://letterboxd.com/darvek/list/westerns-best-in-the-west/
To clarify: It is indeed a WESTERN, but it is one that involves characters (an ensemble cast) in an almost claustrophobic drama of moral degradation. The plot is strikingly different to most other westerns, especially in that period of cinema. In future decades, the revisionist and acid westerns involved plot sequences that took some cues from this masterpiece.
I'd like to make a point between genre westerns, and dramas like this that have western settings and storylines, but go deeper into the human element. As an example:-
The Treasure of the Sierra Madre vs The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance:
There is profound inner moral conflict and turmoil in both films. Treasure presents it more noirishly and with no grandstanding. Liberty Valance is a film appealing to a wider audience because of the adrenalin-charged, chest-thumping heroism, which is contrived to get the viewers rooting for the "best man". A good western, but Treasure makes no compromises, no appeals, it simply IS. We, as viewers, can see how moral degradation can reduce a man, without the narrative devices so often used in films to manipulate viewpoints and viewer attitudes. There is a harrowing existentialism here that is absent or only touched on in most westerns. Huston was ahead of the game in the 1940s.
Ikiru (Akira Kurosawa, 1952) 8/10
12 Dec, 2019
"I can't afford to hate people. I haven't got that kind of time." - that, for me, was one of the most poignant moments. So much to glean on the art of being human in Kurosawa's canon.
Inferno (Roy Ward Baker, 1953) 7.5/10
19 Jun, 2020
This little noir drama/thriller and "survival film" from 1953 - 'Inferno' (directed by Roy Ward Baker) takes some interesting turns: An alcoholic millionaire industrialist - played very realistically by Robert Ryan - gets left in the Mojave Desert to die by his wife and her lover.
There are no sympathetic characters in this scenario, they are all villains in one way or another... except maybe for an old prospector who is living hand to mouth out there in the heat and dust.
Nothing like a little survival to keep you going.
The Desperate Hours (William Wyler, 1955) 8/10
24 Apr, 2018
The first black-and-white film shot in VistaVision. Taut, gritty and cogent. A crime drama with tough edgy performances, and unrelenting in its desperate intensity. Bogart (the ex-con with nothing to lose) hammers out a performance that never lets up, a wild menacing reckless energy that totally works - Duke Mantee with more gravity. Fredric March (the family man with everything to lose) gives a moving portrayal of a man pushed to the edge, where - triggered by the merest mishap, the tiniest error - all that is cherished and meaningful could tumble to its ineluctable demise. The ex-cons are holed up in the family's large well-appointed home; Bogart and his two merciless half-witted sidekicks lay siege, and the Hilliards are in mortal terror! One of Wyler's best. Bogart's last role as a villain.
The Killing (Stanley Kubrick, 1956) 9/10
06 Mar, 2020
With this hard-boiled, noirish, no-nonsense heist caper, Stanley makes "economy" a style all its own. There is no micro moment wasted, no fat or unnecessary frills weighing down the film. The parallel timelines work the grit to perfection, as do the cast (well chosen by Kubrick).
Of course these few words don't do justice to a trailblazing Noir like this - from a 28 year old Kubrick. Just see the film!
Kubrick and “The Killing”
tdhicks.com/2013/04/02/kubrick-and-the-killing/
Kiss Me Deadly (Robert Aldrich, 1955) 9/10
14 Apr, 2018
Dr. G.E. Soberin: "Listen to me, as if I were Cerberus barking with all his heads at the gates of hell. I will tell you where to take it, but don't... don't open the box!"
Gas station attendant: [seeing Mike in a new car] "Oh, the Jag wasn't good enough for you, huh?"
Mike Hammer: "Yeah, the ashtrays were all full."
A masterpiece of Film Noir. Even better on the rewatch. This is a screenwriter's dream - a cracklingly effective story and script that snaps along at just the right pace for suspense, atmosphere, and visceral energy (with a screenplay by A.I. Bezzerides, based on Mickey Spillane's Mike Hammer mystery novel Kiss Me, Deadly). It is no ordinary noir, it has some surprising elements... and developments. Highly recommended!
Back from Eternity (John Farrow, 1956) 6/10
Dec 21, 2019
Va va voom! Up into the skies with Anita Ekberg. She smolders so much, it's astonishing the plane doesn't catch alight earlier in the plot.
Some rock solid acting from Robert Ryan, Rod Steiger; and the invisible headhunters lend atmosphere. Pity about the loathsome religiosity that always seems to rear its ugly head when people are stranded or facing imminent death.
Forbidden Planet (Fred M. Wilcox, 1956) 9/10
03 Jun, 2018 2
As the plot unfolds we find ourselves immersed in an allegory on the corruption of power and the need to confront one's dark side (individuation, a la Carl Jung - though they used Freudian terminology in the film). Underneath all that wondrous cosmic art lies what is analogous to the beast within us all - and how we (or even highly evolved races, alien or human) must come to terms with it. The plot drew inspiration from Shakespeare's last great work, 'The Tempest', and indeed, armed with that literary blueprint, it carves an interplanetary path in the annals of time, the annals of film history.
'Forbidden Planet' is a midnight movie in the category of science fiction which boasts some extraordinary achievements: An electronic score by the avant-garde composers, Luis and Bebe Barron - the first of its kind; visual effects and matte paintings that were of unusual quality; and a plot-line that had a lot more to it than meets the eye. Some may respond with the rejoinder, "1950's SF? No competition", this may well be true to a certain extent - though 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' (1956) is remarkable in its own way. However, 'Forbidden Planet' has stood the test of time very well, and set the benchmark for atmosphere and music. In fact, the score is so enormously effective, that it is a real shame that the Barrons didn't compose for a great deal more films of this genre. Many filmmakers today intending on making an SF film could learn a lot from the use of electronic music like this. Now THIS is space music - youtu.be/djpJd5RmQxk
A true film icon from another world.
A few years later, Anne Francis (as Altaira "Alta" Morbius, in the film), went on to star in the classic Twilight Zone episode, 'The After Hours' - where, in fact, she was the perfect model for the role (pun intended).
Here is a video I made (EPOCH COLLAPSE) which includes stills and images from the film. The music I composed was included on a compilation album.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OeKQBW4r4Lk&t=40s
The Bridge on the River Kwai (David Lean, 1957) 8.5/10
07 Jun, 2018
"You make me sick with your heroics! There's a stench of death about you. You carry it in your pack like the plague. Explosives and L-pills - they go well together, don't they? And with you it's just one thing or the other: destroy a bridge or destroy yourself. This is just a game, this war! You and Colonel Nicholson, you're two of a kind, crazy with courage. For what? How to die like a gentleman, how to die by the rules - when the only important thing is how to live like a human being!..." - the words of William Holden's character as he and a company of men and women go on through the jungles of Burma to take on the task described.
The above quote sums up the heart and soul of this war epic, brilliantly realized by David Lean and with memorable performances from William Holden, Alec Guinness (Nicholson), and Jack Hawkins.
The Big Country (William Wyler, 1958) 9/10
24 Apr, 2018
A grand sweeping Technicolor western of epic proportions, but perfectly crafted to the last minute. Impressively filmed in the big country of California's Red Rock Canyon State Park, and in the central California Sierra foothills near the town of Farmington. The film features an opening credit sequence by Saul Bass of Vertigo fame.
Gregory Peck plays James McKay, a sea captain from the east who ventures west to reunite with his fiancée - a woman whose wealthy father owns a massive ranch in a territory besieged by the almost constant feuding between two ranchers and their clans of varying wealth and poverty. McKay is a man who leans toward the pacifist end of the spectrum, and his strong stance in this regard - courageous as it is under the circumstances - doesn't pan well with the bellicose Wild West "well-to-do" family, and he finds himself having to prove his worth in ways and means that surprise all. Over a period of time many confrontations between the clans, and threats of a range war ensue. Finally, after a showdown with the poorer neighbours, the Hannasseys - a renegade family headed by Rufus Hannassey (Burl Ives) - he wins the hand of his (up to then) estranged girl (Jean Simmons).
All this human drama spirals about like a rattlesnake in the searing heat of the sun, while the seemingly endless hills, valleys, plains and prairies give dimension, and sometimes an encroaching perspective and drama of their own.
Absolutely compelling.
Apparently before principal photography was completed William Wyler went to Rome to stir up the dust with some chariot races.
Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960) 10/10
The Pawnbroker (Sidney Lumet, 1964) 8/10
Added 15 Apr, 2018
Sidney Lumet's The Pawnbroker is an absolutely engrossing film of the 1960's. Rod Steiger is the jewish pawnbroker of the title, haunted by memories of Nazi concentration camps. Despite the almost eternally low mood and depressing environment, the film has an exhilarating energy which doesn't undermine the grave subject matter (being a drama, this is quite a feat). There is off-beat jazz, the down-beat slums, the up-beat blacks, and the sad lonely people that engage in meandering conversations - all these ingredients make for quite a brew to create a powerful depiction of life in Harlem, NYC. Lumet is known for his realism, and his energetic style - this film is no exception. A tour-de-force, with an unforgettable performance by the lead.
The System (AKA The Girl-Getters) (Michael Winner, 1964) 9/10
11 Apr, 2018
Outstanding on all levels - with a brilliant screenplay by Peter Draper. Oliver Reed is a powerhouse here, and Jane Merrow is utterly superb. Set in the seaside village of Roxham, where a band of young men (renegade beachcombers) saunter among seasonal tourists in order to target young women and rack up more sexual conquests to their tally. Their leader is an audacious and swaggering amateur photographer who is always on the lookout for models to conquer. On a few occasions, I'm sure I saw Eric Arthur Blair (George Orwell) sitting in a fold-up beach chair, but he passed on in 1950 - so that was remarkable in itself.
The Sword of Doom (Kihachi Okamoto, 1966) 10/10
20 Apr, 2018
Simply amazing. A powerful and psychologically intense samuraï action drama, with a subtle yet expressive score - used only occasionally. The protagonist is a master swordsman with deep and troubling psychic disturbances, much of which are left for us to ponder on and puzzle over.
There is a shatteringly remarkable and superbly crafted fighting scene in the snow - where Toshiro Mifune (no less) makes an appearance you won't forget (unless you lose your head). With the exception of Kurosawa's masterpieces in this realm of cinema (Rashomon, Seven Samuraï, and Yojimbo), this jidaigeki towers over virtually all and will leave a mark, maybe even a scar.
The Appaloosa (1966) 7.5/10
20 Jan, 2020
One of the best lines in a western:
[Marlon Brando (as Matt Fletcher) enters confessional booth] -
Matt: I'm having a little trouble getting started, Father.
Priest: You are in the House of God now, my son. Speak from your heart.
Matt: Well, I've done a lot of killin'. I've killed a lot of men and sinned a lot of women. But the men I killed needed killin' and the women wanted sinnin', and well, I never was one much to argue.
Le Samouraï (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1967) 10/10
Dec, 2019
This film gains in its grandeur, depth, power and and cogency with every re-watch.
“All my films hinge on the fantastic. I’m not a documentarian; a film is first and foremost a dream, and it’s absurd to copy life in an attempt to produce an exact recreation of it. Transposition is more or less a reflex with me.” - Jean-Pierre Melville and Rui Nogueira, “Melville On Melville” 1971
Stanley Kubrick and Andrei Tarkovsky, for me, are the two titans of cinematic art - unequalled. Melville, Bergman, Kurosawa, Hitchcock, Welles, Lynch, Herzog, (and a few other masters) I also hold in high regard (the next rung, if you like). Melville, having died so early, has the advantage over many auteurs as having never stooped - he went from to strength to strength... to the end. Melville's quality level was very consistent. Kubrick and Tarkovsky, the same. Unfortunately this is a rare thing in cinema.
The Night of the Generals (Anatole Litvak, 1967) 8/10
07 Jun, 2018
My earliest experience of a drive-in movie was when I was about nine or ten - with some German friends. We all went in their Volkswagen Combe to see 'The Night of the Generals'. The film stars Peter O'Toole as General Wilhelm Tanz, a psychopathic SS officer (I feel a tautology coming on). All we needed after that would be to have Wagner (but preferably Beethoven) blasting away on the car stereo.
This may well be O'Toole's most accomplished and dramatically poignant performance. This film, from 1967, was directed by Anatole Litvak. Other memorable additions to Litvak's filmography are: 'The Amazing Dr. Clitterhouse' (1938 - with Edward G. Robinson, Claire Trevor, and Humphrey Bogart); 'Sorry, Wrong Number' (1948 - with Barbara Stanwyck, and Burt Lancaster); 'Decision Before Dawn' (1951 - with Richard Basehart, and Oskar Werner).
[ Films of Litvak's I've been wanting to see for a while: 'Confessions of a Nazi Spy' (1939 - with Edward G. Robinson); 'City for Conquest' (co-directed with Jean Negulesco, 1940 - starring James Cagney and Ann Sheridan); 'Out of the Fog' (1941 - with Ida Lupino, and John Garfield). ]
Point Blank (John Boorman, 1967) 10/10
11 Feb, 2020
I'm reminded of THE KILLERS (1964) each time I see POINT BLANK (1967). I saw them as a double the first time.
I saw both the Siegel and Siodmak films again recently (both are adaptations of Ernest Hemingway's short story, 'The Killers'). Siodmak's adaptation is perhaps my choice - for the noirish atmosphere, and the opening scenes, which are all so darkly effective, and its more nihilistic tone. Plus, Ava Gardner is one of the sultriest femme fatales - she owns every scene in which she appears! The two films are close though in my estimation: Siegel's film is great on many levels too. John Cassavetes in the fatalistic lead role hammers it out perfectly right to the end.
POINT BLANK (1967) is, in my opinion, even better than the above films. As with Siegel's 'The Killers' we also have Lee Marvin and Angie Dickinson joined again in powerful and memorable roles. The film never flinches, and is as brutal as its plot requires without overspilling into the realm of gratuitousness. Solid stuff. Location shooting is a real plus here too. 1960s crime films don't get any better. John Boorman never made a film that came close to this tour-de-force, though his 'Deliverance' was excellent too.
[ * Addendum: I'm an aficionado of Tarkovsky - his Solaris being my second favourite film of all time - and yet, I've never seen his version of The Killers. I must amend. ]
Hang 'em High (Ted Post, 1968) 8/10
24 Apr, 2018
Produced by Clint Eastwood's newly formed Malpaso Company (now Malpaso Productions) - and the first since the Dollar Trilogy. This film has been described as a cross between a Spaghetti Western and Rawhide, which is fairly accurate. While it is a Hollywood film, it has Spaghetti Western style music (generally a good thing) and a great many gore sequences that are emblematic of this subgenre; however, the cinematographic style is more characteristic of Hollywood. Clint was tired of working through translations of the Dollar Trilogy and was keen to take this on board as the debut film for Malpaso. He passed the chance to star in Mackenna's Gold, a western which was a big Hollywood production (starring Gregory Peck, Telly Savalas, and Omar Sharif) sporting some excellent scenarios and location shooting - and a turkey buzzard song that refuses to die; Eastwood preferred the script for Hang 'em High and wanted his old pal Ted at the helm - who, incidentally, had directed a few Rawhide episodes.
While this film is not in the same league as The Outlaw Josey Wales, nor High Plains Drifter, it nonetheless sits (or hangs) quite resolutely in the top 100 westerns of all time (maybe the top 80). Ted Post went on to direct Beneath the Planet of the Apes and Magnum Force - both solid additions to his filmography.
I can't help thinking though that Hang 'em High would have been superior had it been directed by Robert Aldrich, or John Sturges, who were both considered earlier on.
I watched this film three years ago and decided to watch an episode of Rawhide afterwards (season 7, episode one) titled "The Race", featuring Warren Oates. I don't remember it, but I'd say it would have been one of the better ones.
No Way to Treat a Lady (Jack Smight, 1968) 7.5/10
10 Jul, 2017
Rod Steiger in an all-stops-out performance as a demented sociopathic serial killer with a "mother complex" (seems many of them suffer from this affliction if film writers are to be believed). George Segal is the N.Y. cop with a nagging Jewish mama and a new young love interest played by the disarmingly attractive and emotionally resonant Lee Remick (one of my favourites!). Segal's character could be stronger, but then he's a brow-beaten sod of a detective who is reduced to a hapless schoolboy around Remick. An underrated little gem struggling through the mud of obscurity.
The Swimming Pool (Jacques Deray, 1969) 6/10
Jan 18, 2020
'La Piscine' (1969), is an Italian-French psychological thriller directed by Jacques Deray, with Alain Delon, Romy Schneider, Maurice Ronet, and a very young Jane Birkin. 'La Piscine' is so languid, that it feels like the kind of venture a serious director goes on when they want "down time", (something between two important films); it's as if the camera was left rolling - for the first hour - while all the people (crew included) soak in the villa's St. Tropez sunshine. Perhaps this tense but lackadaisical thriller needs some kind of undercurrent, or more of a backstory to add greater depth. It takes a long while for the intrigue to build - a slow burn under ol' Sol. The film feels more like a '70's drama, than a late 60's slow burn swimming pool thriller. Nonetheless, it's worth a watch. The ending was quite satisfying. Romy Schneider is dazzling as ever.
Duck, You Sucker (Sergio Leone, 1971) 7/10
Dec 10, 2018
Film is also known as A Fistful of Dynamite.
One cheese and dynamite sandwich on tortilla bread, with chilli on the side - no lettuce, no mayonnaise, and easy on the Italian sauce. Oh, and one gatling gun to go. And for chrissakes make it snappy, there's a revolution, and bridges to blow up!
The Seduction of Mimi (Lina Wertmüller, 1972) 7.5/10
06 Apr, 2018
Like Seven Beauties, The Seduction of Mimi is part black comedy, part sex romp and political satire. It is Wertmüller's fifth feature: Mimi, a metalworker (played by Giancarlo Giannini, no less) begins a liaison with a grotesque woman (the wife of the man who had an affair with his own wife) with his only aim being to cuckold and humiliate the husband in grand gestures, Italian-style. As the plot unfurls, they become entangled in a role reversal the like of which begins after the woman realises that Mimi has deceived her in order to retaliate against his enemy. Her primary function becomes to force Mimi to repeatedly make love to her, against his will and to his utter disgust, until she is pregnant. Indeed, the pregnancy ensues as does the confusion as to whom has conquered whom. Such reversal of roles and contortion of characters serve as themes which recur throughout the work of Wertmüller and are no less redolent and resplendent here.
[A collaborative review for Love and Anarchy, The Cinema of Seduction: Lina Wertmüller in Retrospective - Italian Film Festival 2005]
Love and Anarchy (Lina Wertmüller, 1973) 7.5/10
06 Apr, 2018
Reticent and reluctant in love, and ultimately restrained from his fate of fighting against Fascism, Giannini finds that there is difficulty in determining the path between amore and anarchia. This befreckled and besotted character is bedevilled and beguiled at every turn. There is no felicitous resolution in the revolution, whilst Tunin’s love of Tripolino is disapproved of by Salomè, his anti-Mussolini compatriot masquerading as his mother, such that his fate seems sealed. It is only in the final moments that the crescendo which usually characterises Wertmüller’s work reaches a climax: the brutality of the day is brought to bear in a chiaroscuro contretemps, but perhaps more for personal politics rather than adherence to a cause.
Love and Anarchy's script is full of heart-felt obscenities - action mostly occurs against a backdrop of sexual intrigue and innuendo in a bordello where females are either madonnas or pariahs - and it speaks to counter-dictatorial revolution attempted by a disenfranchised voice from the country…
Viva la revolución!
[A collaborative review for Love and Anarchy, The Cinema of Seduction: Lina Wertmüller in Retrospective - Italian Film Festival 2005]
The Long Goodbye (Robert Altman, 1973) 8/10
04 Nov, 2019
Aficionados of Chandler's excellent prose and wise-cracking Philip Marlowe character will most likely be at a loss with this aberrant, quirk-riddled, almost farcical neo-noir crime caper. Altman takes detective fiction and turns it on its head, spits it out... succeeding and failing in various ways. Elliott Gould is Marlowe, a swaggering nonchalant "Marlboro man"; his smoke follows him as he drifts sneeringly, apathetically, and recklessly through situations that don't make sense and are more a kaleidoscope of events peopled by clownish, querulous, depraved miscreants who seem to have emerged from a swamp of disinterested malice - a kind of Malice in Wonderland: A crime-frazzled world of spoiled sociopaths improvising on the edge of their very being. Gould is the only character worth the time, he stumbles around a lot as if he's lost his script and is scratching the surface of this celluloid illusion for his next move, but he brings a quality with him - that chuckling nonchalance that seems to have no rival, no equal.
The hoodlums are all repugnant to the extreme - with their brand of sweaty, moronic, pointless pugilism. Gould's Marlowe is not tough enough to deal with this world (or so it appears at first), though he is far more compelling than the other characters who are also in search of a script. There is no satisfying payback, it seems Gould needed Charles Bronson to step in and settle matters effectively, and with some finality (though Gould gets to do that at the very end, which was quite satisfying). However, this is Altman, and so under the swagger is the loner: A melancholic but jocular sensibility meandering existentially through a detached world.
It's best not to read Chandler and expect Altman to deliver the goods. The satirising of 1950's society from a 1970's POV comes across as gauche and slipshod, and only serves to undermine the genius of Chandler's writing. Though the main character here endows this improvised satire with a kind of decade-impaired atmosphere - an irreverence of some quality.
Still, this haphazard mess has its moments. I liked the James Stewart and Walter Brennan impersonations at the Wade gates to hell. The topless girls not far from Marlowe's window were a passing amusement (a snatch of "Summer of Love" seeps into the '70's) while Marlowe searches for his hungry cat - Altman's off-beat attempt to poke a finger up at the more puritanical moral universe of the book's era. Marlowe's failing attempts to find food for his cat was one of the best scenes.
Don't get me wrong, there's lots to like (despite some sloppy thespians, and the adaptation being a bad joke some of the time, blah blah) - Gould is excellent value, as always.
The Parallax View (Alan J. Pakula, 1974) 9/10
Dec 27, 2019
One of those exceptional thrillers that exemplifies the tough, intelligent and audacious qualities of the best from the decade of film I love most: The 70's.
Dirty Mary Crazy Larry (John Hough, 1974) 7.5/10
08 Oct, 2017
An underrated cult film with some well-staged action sequences - peppered with a counter culture mix of nihilism and hedonism. In the true spirit of the zeitgeist, the ecstatic carefree fatalists power up their supercharged 1966 Chevrolet Impala (later replaced with a 1969 Dodge Charger R/T 440) and hit the highway... for freedom and mayhem.
This cult classic accompanied by Two-Lane Blacktop and Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia would make for a high octane triple bill - a wild ride.
Also: Film is notable for having a minimum of incidental music, and mostly diegetic at that. Therefore it belongs in the much needed category of films that DO NOT rely too heavily on music for their narrative and dramatic impact - which often can be an admirable quality.
Seven Beauties (Lina Wertmüller, 1975) 8/10
06 Apr, 2018
Nominated for four Academy Awards, Seven Beauties follows the story of a petty thief who lives off the profits of his seven unlucky sisters (the 'beauties') while claiming to protect their honour at any cost. This is undoubtedly Wertmüller's masterpiece. With this film, the almost omnipresent, uproariously multi-dimensional persona of Giancarlo Giannini is brought into sharpest relief. In a backfired attempt at defending his family's honour, Pasqualino Frafuso accidentally kills the man who has been perpetrator of his family's dishonour. In one sequence, loaded with the weight of his crime (packed in numerous suitcases), Giannini excels in a Chaplinesque display of haphazard, punctuated and panic-stricken slapstick imbued (glued?) with guilty perspiration. This display of ineptness accompanied by frenetic black humour is beautifully balanced within the world of political satire; it effectively serves to fuel the main premise of the film. Again it can be said that Giannini is at his peak, ranging from miserable mutt-like grimaces, obsequious appeals, machismo peacockiness to uproariously convulsive glee.
In the court scene, with a murder rap hanging over his head, the hapless Pasqualino peers through sodden guilty shame at his ample sorelle, his weeping mama. Their company appears as a maladroit fresco, somehow reminiscent of Raphael Sanzio's painterly assemblies of personages. Only, instead of statuesque gestures of aristocratic gentility, we have teary-eyed proletariat disorder on an operatic scale. The tears shift from despair to jubilation at the news of Pasqualino being given a lighter sentence for his misdeeds, achieved through a skilled display of supposed insanity that the jury has noted and swallowed. Wertmüller's films are so resplendid with hyper-expressive gesture that most other films by her countrymen seem pale by comparison. The film incitefully depicts the sacrifice of the individual to the state, feeding humanist struggle into the ravenous jaws of the hegemony.
Moreover, the film also asks the eternal/universal questions of conscience: Pasqualino is eventually sent off to a concentration camp and is confronted with the life decisions that make both survivors and traitors of us. While in the camp, Pasqualino breaks down. The desperate Italian prisoner entreats the Nazi Commandante with the most pitying and despairing pleas in the shape of an appeal to her most primal nature; namely, her libido. How would one tempt a Nazi dominatrix to show a softer, sultry side? This is a Totentanz, a mating game of death (or freedom at a great price, where freedom only means less suffering and torture.) One begins to ask: 'How far can one go to rationalise the lust for life?' Ask the dangling man, the man dangling on the strings of the ultimate enemy - the enemy of freedom; in this case, the perpetrators of the Final Solution.
[A collaborative review for Love and Anarchy, The Cinema of Seduction: Lina Wertmüller in Retrospective - Italian Film Festival 2005]
Atman (Toshio Matsumoto, 1975)
06 Apr, 2018
Atman (aka Atman = Atomanu) (1975) by Toshio Matsumoto is a deceptive and hypnotic film, shot in 16mm colour. Here we have an extreme-focus on an ascetic figure in a 14th-16th century mask trying to reach another plane hypnotically...
A lone figure is seated in a chair situated in the middle of a river shoreline within a valley or gully; he is wearing a Japanese 'Noh' mask, in this case, the demonic character known as 'Hangan' in Noh theatre. The camera appears to encircle the figure with a panning and zooming action. Apparently the film is shot like animation films - shot by shot, and the movements are made according to a chart. The chart seen from above would most likely be a highly complex dotted star formation. The electronic film music was by Toshio Ichiyanagi - one of the most venerated of Japanese classical avant-garde composers. As the film progresses and we appear to zoom in and out towards the masked figure, the process gains speed in tandem with the music's growing intensity. The word 'Atman' in Buddhism is most often translated as 'soul' 'self' and sometimes 'ego', and is seen as the prime cause of suffering. therefore it is that which we should overcome and detach ourselves in order to transcend - 'samsara' (rebirth) and reach the state of Nirvana. In Hinduism, by contrast, 'Atman' often refers to the highest self, in some schools of Hinduism it translates as 'light'. Through a Jainist interpretation we would see the figure striving through a vortextual force to overcome 'maya' (illusion), 'karma' (action) 'anava' (ego). The Jains believe we evolve through contact with higher planets after death. It is intriguing to think of the spiralling motion as a method by which one can reach that level or planet.
[Review written in 2006 for a program of experimental film.]
www.youtube.com/watch?v=MdcN8wDxT0Q
Family Plot (Alfred Hitchcock, 1976) 8/10
21 Sep, 2017
Having seen this recently for the second time - and such a divertissement it is - I've come to consider this Hitch's most underrated film. That might be quite a claim to make, but it has never been ranked with the master's top 10 or even top 20 films - and it is a hoot, to say the least. Like many of his most admired works it defies the simplistics of "genre placement" - the admittedly far superior North by Northwest comes to mind: combining black comedy, eccentric wit, mystery, adventure and Hitch's trademark suspense. It is all one could hope for from the maestro.
Note: The plot in question goes beyond family entertainment.
The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (John Cassavetes, 1976) 8/10
08 Jun, 2019
Cassavetes was drunk when he made this (drunk on something) - he had to be - the way that camera leans in too close, like an off balance dipsomaniac, teetering on the cliff of his own construction (or deconstruction). If he leant in any closer he'd be giving us a lunar landscape fashioned from human skin - all without NASA funding, and a team of researchers. Around him his appointed circus of sleaze and crime yabbers on, blabbers, stammers, and rambles on into the blinkered greasy stale cadaverous night. Enter stage left: Fulsome bosoms swing effortlessly and naturally, with great abandonment; the dilapidated dirge of "Mr Sophistication" wimpers on tediously, torturously, and monotonously, bringing a dubious take on continental worldliness via a stage act of rambunctious tawdriness.
This creation is an experiment in self-reflection (with Ben Gazzara kind of working as the director's doppelgänger); Gazzara stumbles about as the master of ceremonies in a low-life stripclub, and the fun begins when he is coerced by a casino owner's mob to wipe out a Chinese bookie to pay back a debt. Cassavetes, the psychodrama lab technician, the cine-alchemist, the psychonaut of character and situations, mixes cocktails of chemicals pertaining to the elements of human emotions, fears, desires, expressions, actions - hoping for some new compound to confound, to reinvent the wheels of cinema. His groping through the fog of exploration makes for a morass of poses, gestures, that keep spinning on a loop, forever repeating the pointlessness of it all - rats on a wheel of torment - by this he deftly captures the grit, sleaze, and the mean street life of this world.
As brilliant as this is on some levels - Gazzara's performance for one thing, and the gritty realism - it pales in comparison to 'Faces', Cassavetes unrivalled masterpiece, and 'A Woman Under the Influence'; both those films feature the superb Gena Rowlands - and in the latter case especially - one of the most extraordinary performances in cinema history.
Exorcist II: The Heretic (John Boorman, 1977) 7/10
Dec, 2019
In a non-parallel counter-clockwork universe this is actually a sequel to Brainstorm (1983). My rating in that aforementioned universe is 7.
The King of Comedy (Martin Scorsese, 1982) 9/10
05 Apr, 2018
Regarding analogies pertaining to the sociopathic circus that is the current political situation (globally) - the psychopathology of the main character in The King of Comedy (a deranged con artist, a delusional monomaniac, and an obsequious obsessive) could almost be construed as a construct along these lines. This is not a "lesser Scorsese" as some seem to claim; it features one of his most original and memorable protagonists. The film is so dark that it is not overtly a comedy, and yet it is somewhat. It defies genre - or at least combines a few - and it could be considered one of the last films of the "American New Wave" - comparable with any of the bold and radical films from that time. Cringe-worthy it is - with one of Scorsese's most creepily effective lead characters. And Jerry Lewis is like you've never seen him before. After watching the film Sandra Bernhard's spikey characterisation will linger in your mind.
*Note: Pauline Kael of The New Yorker was one of the critics who disliked the film, describing the character of Rupert Pupkin as "Jake LaMotta without fists".
- Well I think that's exactly the point!
Christine (John Carpenter, 1983) 8/10
28 May, 2019
It takes a unique talent to seize a ludicrous idea, a motley bunch of actors of extremely uneven ability, and make such a compelling horror/action/drama. John Carpenter reaches into the glovebox of Stephen King's mind and pulls out only the essentials needed for a high octane tour-de-force schlock - and it works most assuredly. I only wish the late great Harry Dean had more to do. I'd have given it 8/10 if the leads were more captivating, though "Cuntingham" - in the second half - certainly doesn't pull any thespian punches. "In god we trust, everyone else pays cash".
Repo Man (Alex Cox, 1984) 8/10
05 Apr, 2018
Genre twister par excellence. Part Sci-Fi, Horror, Crime, Satire, Schlock, Psychotronic, Punk stylization. Cleverly conceived, and irreverent to everything in life, culture, film. Repo's code is a parody of Asimov's "Law of Robotics". Harry Dean Stanton is excellent as always.
Back to the Future (Robert Zemeckis, 1985) 6.5/10
31 May, 2019
Incredible as this may seem - to people who know me - but this is the first time I've seen this, and it wasn't half as terrible as I was expecting. I avoided it and many others around that time (i.e. ET). I was a dreadful snob back then - almost as dreadful as I am now.
Walker (Alex Cox , 1987) 5/10
07 Nov, 2017
Filmed in Nicaragua and various locations around Arizona. William Walker (Ed Harris) is an American mercenary leader who becomes the self-proclaimed president of the strife-ridden nation (via a coup d'état) and leads an insane and quite pointless massacre in order to bring "peace" to the people of Nicaragua. An irreverent and somewhat wearisome absurdist account to the point of apathetic surrealism: In 1855 we see helicopters, cars, cigarette machines, copies of Newsweek... I was waiting for Cheech and Chong to appear smoking joints, reading Playboy and handing out acid. It seemed as if the director, Alex Cox was reading cue sheets from Simon of the Desert and Blazing Saddles, but this is devoid of the ingenuity and quality of Luis Buñuel, and is no match for the endless stream of clever (and even silly) gags in Mel Brooks' satire; however, on that note, the acting here is exceedingly laughable.
Extremely disappointing - especially after rewatching Cox's own brilliant Repo Man from 1984.
Hardware (Richard Stanley, 1990) 8/10
05 Oct, 2018
Low-budget cyberpunk horror schlock par excellence. Hardware, a dystopian midnight movie, nods respectfully to Blade Runner, The Terminator, Alien, Repo Man, Videodrome, Soylent Green, Damnation Alley, (etc. etc.) - with deadpan humour reminiscent of Dark Star. Aficionados of Philip K. Dick, will revel in this quasi postmodernist collage/collision buffet that will leave you hungry for more (however satisfying).
It also boasts an original score from Simon Boswell, and music by Public Image Ltd, Ministry, Iggy Pop, Lemmy of Motörhead (the latter two both make cameo appearances). It may just reverberate in the walls of your cochlear with sheer delight.
Lumière and Company (41 directors, 1995) 6/10
(Directors : Lasse Hallström, Vicente Aranda, John Boorman, Youssef Chahine, Alain Corneau, Raymond Depardon, Francis Girod, Abbas Kiarostami, Cédric Klapisch, Spike Lee, Claude Lelouch, Michael Haneke, David Lynch, Wim Wenders, Costa-Gavras, Theo Angelopoulos, Peter Greenaway, Hugh Hudson, Gaston Kaboré, Andrei Konchalovsky, Bigas Luna, Sarah Moon, Arthur Penn, Helma Sanders-Brahms, Jerry Schatzberg, Nadine Trintignant, Fernando Trueba, Liv Ullmann, Jaco Van Dormael, Régis Wargnier, Yoshishige Yoshida, Zhang Yimou, Merzak Allouache, Gabriel Axel, James Ivory, Patrice Leconte, Ismail Merchant, Claude Miller, Idrissa Ouedraogo, Jacques Rivette, Lucian Pintilie)
08 Apr, 2018
Lumière and Company is a 1995 anthology film involving the collaboration between forty-one international film directors. The project's intention was to see what these directors would/could create using the original Cinématographe camera invented by the Lumière brothers in the 1890's. The shorts were edited in-camera and constrained by three rules:
A short may be no longer than 52 seconds.
No synchronized sound.
No more than three takes.
David Lynch's short is worth more than all the others put together. Incredibly, most of the rest of the film directors in their efforts with the Cinematographe were hopelessly uninspired, unimaginative, predictable, and ineffective. Lynch overwhelmingly demonstrated a far more visionary genius than the others (I'd give his 4.5 stars). The only others worth the time were those by Wim Wenders, Andrei Konchalovsky, Arthur Penn (whose early films are among the masterpieces of the Hollywood New Wave 1960's-1970's)
... and Zhang Yimou's was okay, amusing - with a well chosen location. Most of the directors didn't illuminate on the film process very well (in words or in the final work), and gave awkward, clichéd answers (perhaps they were a bit awestruck with the magnitude of the project - the legacy, the indebtedness?) . The only insightful explanations when questioned about the opportunity to contribute to the project and why they make films were from Lynch (again): "I like to make films because I like to go into another world. I like to get lost in another world."; Arthur Penn, who was boldly honest; and and Michael Haneke's comment had a quality to it that was facetiously existential (no surprise there).
A shame, as this was an admirable attempt to pay homage to the mavericks of cinema, the Lumière brothers.
Afterword : -
Lynch should make his short into a feature film!
[edit] : It should also be noted that Yoshishige Yoshida's short - inspired by and shot in Hiroshima - was another worthwhile inclusion, as was Patrice Leconte's choice of location for hers.
Event Horizon (Paul W.S. Anderson, 1997) 5/10
18 Feb, 2020
I see a non-event on the horizon.
It was fine for the first few minutes before the first human spoke.
This seems to be a mash-up (gone wrong) of Alien (horror / dread / lurking menace); Braindead (all-out body horror); Solaris (manifestations from memory/dreams/desire - or, in this case: fear and dread); Forbidden Planet (the Morbius-like Id getting out of control); ... etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. It's watchable for scant sequences involving celestial mechanics, and some hallucinatory episodes.
Then there are the end titles: Plunderphonics of what sounds like a techno version of 'Thru Metamorphic Rocks' by Tangerine Dream. Hmmmm.....
The Good Shepherd (Robert De Niro, 2006) 4/10
10 Dec, 2017 2
Stupendously tedious. If tedium is a virtue in filmmaking, then The Good Shepherd is one of the most virtuous of sheep herders. Heavily flawed on many levels: The absurdly convoluted plot and ridiculously pretentious non-linear narrative, together with a grab-bag of loathsome degenerates and their hideous rituals of "family entertainment", and "get-togethers". Then there's the actual main plot about a tape, and the decoding, and on and on and on (when will this exercise in "I don't really give a good goddamn fuck" end???). Oh yeah, and there's the music score - or should I say "muzak"? It seems these days that almost any film - no matter what genre - has a pathetic limpid generic piano (and orchestra) score that underpins every second of the story or action; it smothers the film in a soporific and/or enervating miasma of pointlessness and meaninglessness, and it sounds much the same from movie to movie. Sadly, the days of great film music are gone - the golden age of scores, i.e. A CLOCKWORK ORANGE, FORBIDDEN PLANET, PSYCHO, TOUCH OF EVIL, WINGS OF DESIRE, RAN, WOMAN OF THE DUNES, etc. Seriously, this film would've been almost watchable without all that syrup. Also a waste of some talented thespians, and all those dollars frittered away in putting together something with "high production values" - all for what? Ugh.
Well the film may have length - and even breadth - but De Niro's out of his depth.
Edit: I have no problem with non-linearity, but only if it serves a purpose and enhances or expands narrative possibilities.
I Served the King of England (Jiří Menzel, 2006) 6/10
20 Apr, 2019
Oh, those Czech damsels! This should have been a naturalist film set in a forest with just those winning devotchkas laying languidly about and taking occasional dips in a nearby stream; who needs all those pointless prancing pathetic predatorial pariahs to spoil the soup? The best parts were the scenes set in current times.
I saw this many years ago as part of a Czech film program - where this was just about the weakest, and Jan Švankmajer's 'Alice' was easily the winner.
Planet Terror (Robert Rodriguez, 2007) 6/10
11 Oct, 2018
Steaming hot gun-shinning girl with telekinesis (for firing that leg gun) reigns terror on said planet. Grindhouse grinds on into the apocalyptic night.
Led Zeppelin: Celebration Day (Dick Carruthers, 2012) 8/10
13 May, 2018
I had been planning to view this amazing concert for a long while and finally got around to it. Anyone who grew up listening to album after album of what is arguably one of the greatest Hard Rock bands (along with The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Cream, and a few others) will not be disappointed - all live performances of the most memorable songs are delivered with power and virtuosity that is quite staggering. In guitar music circles Jimmy Page is sometimes cited as being a bit slipshod in his live playing, but I see nothing of the sort here. This is unquestionably one of the best concert films ever. Highly recommended to anyone who grew up listening to this band.
All Is Lost (J. C. Chandor, 2013) 8.5/10
11 May, 2018
Now this is the kind of survival film I like - no dialogue; one lone protagonist who uses all manner of ingenuity and resourcefulness to survive one disaster after another; minimal music; relentless in its depiction of life on the edge - teetering on the precipice of possible death and total loss. Having the plot centering on one person alone helps to eliminate (mostly needless) dialogue and tiresome conflict issues - both of which can dilute the whole process. Robert Redford is totally there, totally immersed (pardon the pun) - in the here and now of his calamitous predicament.
________ (Kyle Faulkner, 2018)
01 Oct, 2018
A sublime form of desolation borne out of the search for Sartrean detachment. Beyond the anthropic, beyond the solipsistic. I completely relate to this world that Faulkner has observed, put to film, with the minimum of human encroachment: To capture a universe at our fingertips, our footprints, the limits of our vision, yet untouched, albeit within the confines of the "Observer Effect" - an homage to James Benning? In any case, as with all creative work, we are witness to the mind of the creator - but here, a place almost devoid of intervention, of contrivance; we experience it as an abstraction that somehow desires its own nihility: It is, yet it isn't - an eternal paradox? Should we even put words to something that so resolutely eschews language, thought, the machinations and mechanizations of a specie so invasive, so seemingly pervasive? ________
Annihilation (Alex Garland, 2018) 5.5/10
12 Oct, 2018
If it weren't for the ending and the last 20 minutes, I'd have awarded this SF Horror a generous 4/10.. The stereotypical characterisation, the vacuous dialogue and the players themselves are not particularly memorable, and the hackneyed plotlines don't help the film from sliding into the derivative swamp whence it came. I wasn't even impressed with the visual effects for the most part, though I did rather like the botanical morphogenesis, and the exomorphic spiralling volcanic light in the final confrontation. I would have to add though that the original score was excellent - especially that last 20 minutes, (including the end titles).
Aniara (Hugo Lilja, Pella Kågerman, 2018) 2/10
20 Dec, 2019
What a pretentious pile of trash (at least one can laugh at something like Plan 9 From Outer Space - a far superior SF). Never have I seen a film that was such a poor excuse for science fiction. It's a shopping mall in space, with pseudo-mystical virtual reality for traumatised victims of films as bad as this (well, that'd be a nice piece of self-referencing, if they could only see what a dreadful concoction they had vomited out into the void - notice the word "void").
However, I liked those odd 20 second sequences - here and there - of deep dark space (moments devoid of people). I'd far prefer it as a 3 minute short just of space itself - with no music - or with just "The Sounds of Planets", as recorded by NASA.
That's all for now.
04 Mar, 2020
Remove all humans - except that howling mesmerised mermaid (Valeriia Karaman) - and I'd be in like Flynn. The film was trying too hard to be a force of nature (it was too excited with itself). It felt forced and self-consciously arty as opposed to a film by a real master - whereby it would develop (almost organically) into something extraordinary. I got really tired of the antics and in-fighting between the lighthouse keepers.
I'd prefer frisson or friction be achieved by the unrelenting black/grey/white sea waves against rocks for two hours; the gulls and mythic creatures lending a sonic fusion, [I did like the score]. I was actually thinking how we humans have become self-referential to the point of the absurd. How about a film with nobody for a change??