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SCREENING LOG
- 6/02-6/08, 2003
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I watched SPELLBOUND (2002), MAKE WAY FOR TOMORROW, SHOW
BOAT, THE KILLING, THE BURMESE HARP, THE WRONG MAN, STREET
OF SHAME, WEEKEND and EARLY SPRING. In order of preference
(the first six films are of such a high level of achievement
that they could switch places many times over):
Week End (1967, Jean-Luc Godard) second viewing
http://www.imdb.com/Title?0062480
This is either the last word on Western civilization in the
20th century (and the cars they rode in on), or utter crap
-- your call. I'll just say that I staggered out of the theater
I saw this in, dizzy with possibilities for what movies can
do, esp. when faced with the perplexing excesses of life.
APOCALYPSE NOW looks tame, simplistic and redundant compared
to this, its clear predecessor, stylistic inspiration and
cinematic superior. But why even bring in such comparisons?
This film answers to no one.
Early Spring (1956, Yasujiro Ozu)
http://www.imdb.com/Title?0049784
Ozu's longest feature is a tricky one to read, and quite
possibly one of his best works. The running time would indicate
some kind of epic statement being made, and Ozu is certainly
aiming high by offering a comprehensive examination of how
the corporate salaryman mentality has deeply affected the
lives of ordinary Japanese people. The film, which centers
around a frustrated salaryman, his failing marriage, his dalliance
with a younger co-worker and his co-workers increasing concerns,
is often solemn and staid but not humorless in the least;
in fact I can think of few Ozu films that do a better job
of capturing communal ritual in all its highs and lows, which
the 2 1/2 hour running time accomodates splendidly. Typical
of Ozu, the story moves in a ritualistic pattern through interactions
between friends and family, in homes, offices, bars and group
outings. There is the recurring instance of a group getting
together to eat dinner, often breaking out into song as they
celebrate each other's company -- these scenes for me are
clearly a highlight of the entire Ozu oeuvre, they shine with
spontaneity.
Make Way for Tomorrow (1937, Leo McCarey)
http://www.imdb.com/Title?0029192
Arguably the best Hollywood film ever made about the elderly,
this is a comedy whose light touch barely masks a mordant
melancholy that grows and grows and finally flows over into
one of the saddest endings I've ever seen. Victor Moore and
Beulah Bondi play an aging couple forced to sell their home
and live separately among their grown children. One initial
drawback to the film is that McCarey doesn't make any of the
characters overtly sympathetic -- the children are expectedly
reluctant and resentful, but the parents are also a bit of
a pain. But over time we become familiar to each person's
point of view, and the impossibility of the situation, graced
by McCarey's laser-sharp ability to capture small, quick moments
that say so much between the lines about human beings -- I
don't think even Lubitsch captures small, subtle, sub-radar
human moments better than McCarey. And then there's the ending,
which is roughly thirty minutes of heartbreaking celluloid
gold, where McCarey's integrity and fundamental respect of
the plight of his protagonists comes through in spades. This
film inspired Ozu to make TOKYO STORY; I'd still take the
Ozu over this, but I'd take this film over ON GOLDEN POND
or COCOON anyday.
Street of Shame (1956, Kenji Mizoguchi)
http://www.imdb.com/Title?0048933
The last film by Mizoguchi in many ways feels like a fresh
beginning -- this expose of brothel life in contemporary Japan
is a clean break from the stoically composed period pieces
that occupied him throughout the 50s; while Mizoguchi's trademark
concentration on individual spiritual states is dissipated,
there's a new social consciousness at work that feels exciting
and vital. At the same time it harkens back to the more Westernized
and experimental Mizoguchi of the 30s -- indeed the film is
a striking companion piece to his earlier scorching examination
of prostitution in modern Japan, SISTERS OF THE GION (though
20 years later Mizoguchi's conclusions are even more outraged
and despairing). These two films are a subgenre unto themselves:
their fluid camerawork and hither-thither movement from one
character to another is reminiscent of Renoir or Rossellini,
but Mizoguchi's ability to take an indoor space and break
it down over walls and doorways into spatial fragments that
reflect the fragmented and manipulative interactions among
desperate individuals is entirely his own.
The Wrong Man (1956, Alfred Hitchcock)
http://www.imdb.com/Title?0051207
A quizzical and paradoxical feature by Hitchcock, in that
he employs an uncharacteristic stylistic approach to illuminate
his characteristic themes of victimization and guilt, with
the results being as lucid as any of his works. Henry Fonda
plays a well-to-do musician mistaken for an armed robber and
subsequently persecuted by the law through a series of unfortunate
events, culminating with his wife going insane. I am of two
minds with Fonda -- on the one hand he underplays his part
well enough and nails the personality of a calm, rational
man whose calmness and rationality render him unable to comprehend
the extraordinary misfortunes that have befallen him. But
I found it odd that All-American Fonda, whose voice sounds
utterly grain-fed, would be cast as a character named "Manny
Balestrero" -- I wonder if Hitch sidestepped the ethnic/racial
subtexts of the story to get a cleaner focus on his ideas,
which are psychological, not sociological. It is ultimately
Hitch's picture, and the solemn deadpan, almost clinical approach
to storytelling he employs here allows for plenty of existential
sadness to slip through the quiet spaces he provides. It's
impossible not to compare this film to Bresson, and while
it may not have the same singularity of vision it is nonetheless
a remarkable and deeply revealing experiment in the career
of an unqualified master.
The Burmese Harp (1956, Kon Ichikawa)
http://www.imdb.com/Title?0049012
The feature that put Ichikawa on the international map is
essentially a simple, sentimental plea for humanity to get
its act together, featuring a cast of unanimously decent Japanese
soldiers (a patent myth that Ichikawa would later lay to utter
waste in FIRES ON THE PLAIN), spliced with stunning moments
where image and music combine to create true lyricism -- the
troop attempting to move an arsenal of explosives while singing
in unison; the morbid tranquility of a corpse propped up against
a tree or bodies scattered on a beach. The film struggles
throughout its duration between prosaic token anti-war didacticism
(think SAVING PRIVATE RYAN) and a more entrancing and ingenious
poetic meditation on humanity during and after wartime (think
THE THIN RED LINE, which clearly owes a debt to this picture).
Not perfect but certainly fascinating and often breathtaking.
Spellbound (2002, Jeffrey Blitz)
http://www.imdb.com/Title?0334405
I must admit partiality to this film, as I once served on
the staff of the National Spelling Bee, as did my brother,
who apparently appears in this film (though I didn't catch
him). But by any standard, this documentary following eight
American kids from various geographic, ethnic and class backgrounds,
as they prepare for and compete in the Bee, makes for captivating
viewing: as an examination of what lengths children and their
parents will go to achieve whatever they define as success,
and as a multifaceted look into the mysterious art of parenting
and that most ungainly thing known as the adolescent personality.
Blitz carefully sets up our expectations of who will prevail,
which subsequently gets jostled in the course of a nerve-wracking
and highly entertaining account of the competition. Highly
recommended.
The Killing (1956, Stanely Kubrick)
http://www.imdb.com/Title?0049406
Jonathan Rosenbaum considers this early effort "arguably
Stanley Kubrick's most perfectly conceived and executed film";
as much pleasure as I took in watching this intricately plotted
heist film, I found the execution a little too perfect at
times: everything in the script needs to go according to a
preordained grand design, where everyone is a piece in the
puzzle, and their characters are developed only insofar as
they fulfill their duties to the plot. The plot itself is
ingriguing and intricately structured, weaving dancelike back
and forth through time. The roster of B-movie character actors
give the film plenty of enjoyable grizzle, with Elisha Cook
coming off best in a tweaked up and pathos-ized version of
his standard wounded deer in the headlights routine. But there
are too many lame elements on hand for this film to merit
masterpiece status, such as an annoying voiceover and an awkward,
unnecessary and cynical use of racism in one key scene. Any
claims to this film's influence on successive crime movies
is dubious: now I know where all those precocious tough-talking
neo-noirs-with-a-twist flicks done by aspiring auteurs intoxicated
by their own cleverness drew their inspiration. But at least
the original still holds up in comparison.
Show Boat (1936, James Whale)
http://www.imdb.com/Title?0028249
Not as great as I was expecting, but certainly a handsome
and diverting rendition of the Kern and Hammerstein musical.
It's interesting to perceive Whale sensitively touching on
the themes of race, intolerance and community in what could
easily have been a more whitewashed and less socially progressive
production of a well-established mainstream show. For the
record, I don't think Paul Robeson merited an Oscar, fixed
or otherwise, for what he does in this film -- I'm the last
person to use the word "affirmative action" in a dersive way
but here the temptation is high -- Charles Winninger is just
as deserving for the way he single-handedly performs the remainder
of an interrupted play. For that matter Whale gets great performances
from all of his actors (though the ghastly image of Irene
Dunne in blackface is something I'd rather forget).
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