May 2012 Recap

29 new viewings (plus 10 shorts)
11 revisits

Best new discovery: Routine Pleasures
Worst new discovery: Haywire

Not bad for a month where I took an entire week off from movies.  May was largely defined by two projects I’ve been trying to catch up on: rewatching movies in my personal collection that I haven’t seen for 5+ years, and making some kind of dent in my lengthy “need to watch” list.  Also a sprinkling of rewatches to prep for the revision of my top 100 later this summer, and the usual random stuff here and there.  It turned out to be a really good balance, one I’m hoping to continue in June.  Didn’t see much new amazing stuff this month, but there were a couple of nice surprises.

The Emigrants

Based on a pair of novels by Vilhelm Moberg, Jan Troell’s 3-hour epic follows a Swedish family of farmers (and assorted other family members and villagers) as they make the arduous journey to the promised land of America.  That’s not entirely an accurate summation, however.  The movie is halfway over before they even get on the boat.  The first hour and a half details their living conditions, and feels a bit like Pelle the Conqueror.  Mid-19th-century Swedish peasants laboring to little avail, under the thumbs of cruel landowners, struggling to harvest enough to survive, undereducated and impoverished.  The voyage over is even worse, plagued by lice, maggots, scurvy, seasickness, short tempers, poor food, cramped quarters, and death.  It’s not until the last quarter of the movie when we get to America, which is a comparatively sunny portion of the movie… although still beset by language barriers, lack of guidance, and the realization that the country isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

But it does end on a promising note, which is a relief because there’s a lot of wallowing in misery on the way there.  This is a big ol’ bummer of a movie, although it must be said Troell does an excellent job of bringing that misery to life.  The voyage portion of the film is especially harsh, the sense of claustrophobia and abject filth is palpable.  Credit also to the cast, especially Max Von Sydow and Liv Ullmann in the leads.  Two of my favorites from Bergman’s stable, appearing as a couple for what I believe is the fourth time.  But I also really liked Eddie Axberg as the intellectually curious Robert, and Pierre Lindstedt as his somewhat dimmer friend Arvid.  Allan Edwall (the father from Fanny & Alexander) also has a strong performance as the preacher who thanks God for all his suffering.

I don’t know if the film really says anything about the immigrant experience, it just painstakingly outlines all the hardships involved, and the hopes and doubts that one would naturally expect.  But, except for a slightly sluggish start, it’s engaging with very well-built characters.  The attention to detail and excellent performances make this a worthwhile watch, if you don’t mind being bummed out.  Rating: Very Good

IMDb

The Merry Widow

In the tiny kindgom of Marshovia, the playboy Captain Danilo (Maurice Chevalier) of the Royal Guard tries to seduce the wealthy widow Sonia (Jeanette MacDonald).  She can’t stop thinking about him, and in an effort to get over him, flees for Paris.  The king, fearing that her departure will cause the local economy to collapse, sends Danilo to woo her into staying.  Another delightful romantic comedy from Lubitsch, based on the operetta by Lehar.  Chevalier is charming as always, it’s not hard to imagine him as the extraordinary ladykiller he portrays here.  The gags are witty, smart, naughty and come at a satisfactory rate.  The story is clever, without relying too much on tedious mistaken identity or misunderstanding twists.  The songs are enjoyable, and there are glorious dance scenes in lovely costumes and opulent sets.

The weak link, as usual, is MacDonald.  Her acting chops are fine and the chemistry with Chevalier works well enough.  It’s her voice that’s a total wet blanket.  All that ridiculous, show-offy vibrato is like nails on a chalkboard… and makes her lyrics unintelligible.  But at least we’re treated to an array of terrific supporting performances, including Una Merkel, George Barbier, Sterling Holloway and great Edward Everett Horton (who doesn’t get nearly enough screen time for my tastes, but I’ll take him where I can get him).  Besides MacDonald’s dreadful singing, it’s a fine slice of entertainment with that Lubitsch touch.  Rating: Very Good

IMDb

A Very Long Engagement (rewatch)

I’m gonna make this is a quickie review.  I was quite effusive in my praise for this 7 years ago, but the fact that I had to force myself to rewatch it was a bad sign.  It must have really struck a chord with me in that moment, but didn’t leave a lasting impression.  Revisiting it, I think I see why.  The main narrative thread — Mathilde (Audrey Tautou) trying to find her fiancé Manech (Gaspard Ulliel) even though all signs point to his death — is a confusing, tiresome mystery.  The story gets incredibly convoluted with far too many names and events to keep track of, too much repetition of hopes being dashed and then reborn.

This could be a major problem, but it’s really just a minor annoyance.  The film is more of a delivery system for all these mini-stories contained within.  Yes, we care about Mathilde (Tautou charming as always) and her steadfast persistence and belief in spontaneous superstitions is endearing, but we can also take these side journeys with the minor characters, compact little packages of narrative tidbits.  It helps that the film — like Amelie – has stunning, inventive visuals by Bruno Delbonnel.  Maybe I’m not as thrilled with it as I was initially, and I probably wouldn’t bother with a third viewing, but it was nice to see it a second time.  Rating: Very Good

IMDb

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (rewatch)

Truth and illusion, illusion and truth.  Albee (and by extension, Lehmann and Nichols) tears down the facades of marriage and erects new ones and tears those down too.  This is the kind of brutal interaction that gets right me in the gut, where the fights and games are so vicious that they make the vulnerable moments that much more poignant.  Films about couples in turmoil (Scenes from a Marriage, A Woman Under the Influence, et cetera) have a special appeal to me, maybe you need to have been in a turbulent relationship or two yourself to fully appreciate the complex emotions behind them.  Love and hate and disappointment and power struggles, using your partner’s weaknesses against them, seeing how far you can go.  It’s heady stuff, but it all has the ring of sad, sad truth to it.

I got into a discussion recently about “theatrical” performances in film and why some bother me and some don’t.  Certainly the language in Woolf is theatrical, the (gorgeously composed) quick-witted barbs wouldn’t fly so fast and furious in real conversation, much less between four such inebriated individuals.  But the performances here don’t have that staginess that bothers me.  I don’t feel like I’m being played to as an audience, especially not when the characters are so busy playing for each other.  Taylor and Burton are both so unbelievably riveting and spot-on, there isn’t a moment in the movie that isn’t compelling to me, and when they’re facing off in marital battle it’s electrifying.  I’ve even warmed up to Dennis… her character is irritating, but that’s as it should be.  In some ways, she’s the most tragic character in the story; one wonders what the conversation between her and Segal will be the next day, the next week, the next 20 years.  This evening could be the beginning of their own “George and Martha” dynamic.

It’s a film that grows on me more and more with each viewing, to the point where it’s now surpassed The Graduate as my favorite by Mike Nichols.  The explosive intensity of it is overwhelming, building to a wild and deeply upsetting crescendo.  The final ten minutes are some of the most affecting cinema I’ve ever witnessed.  Outstanding performances, brilliant dialogue, engaging subject matter, and done with rich cinematography by Haskell Wexler.  Rating: Masterpiece

IMDb

World on a Wire

Fassbinder does his version of the 70′s paranoid thriller, with a sci-fi twist.  A company is developing a computerized virtual reality simulation, intended to predict future trends.  The lead programmer gives a strange message and dies under mysterious circumstances.  Then the head of security vanishes without a trace, and no one except the new lead programmer (Klaus Löwitsch) even seems to remember he ever existed.  With his suspicions aroused, he struggles to uncover the truth… and learn who he can trust.

In a post-Matrix world, much of the movie seems somewhat predictable and old hat, but it’s still executed quite nicely and to me is far more satisfying and gripping than anything the Wachowskis ever did.  Fassbinder makes his points about reality and identity and control without resorting to a bunch of half-baked philosophy, “down the rabbit hole” silliness.  Yes, the aesthetic is rather dated, but don’t skintight leather outfits and “bullet time” feel rather dated now, too?  There’s a lot of use of mirrors (Fassbinder watching a lot of Losey, perhaps?) and distorted reflections to emphasize the multiple alternate planes of reality.  Löwistch is quite good, with an antsy, restless demeanor that suits the character as he gets more and more inquisitive.  A number of other Fassbinder regulars make an appearance, though I was disappointed that one of my favorites — Gottfried John — is only in one brief scene.  Also keep an eye out for a cameo by Eddie Constantine, no doubt a little homage to Alphaville.

It’s not as thematically daring nor as visually stunning as other Fassbinder, but it is a pretty entertaining thriller with a solid premise (though perhaps some internal logic issues) and thoughtful ideas.  I also have to thank this film for introducing me to “Albatross,” Fleetwood Mac’s gorgeous instrumental.  I’ve never listened to early, Peter Green-era Mac before, looks like I might have to check some more out.  Rating: Very Good

IMDb

Body Heat

Neo-noir in the vein of Double Indemnity and The Postman Always Rings Twice, in which a Florida small-time lawyer hooks up with a steamy blonde and the two plan to kill her husband.  I guess you could say a lot of the plot points are pretty predictable, but it’s still enjoyable to watch it play out.  Lawrence Kasdan had previously worked on the screenplays for two of the greatest (and most successful) blockbusters to come out of Hollywood: The Empires Strikes Back and Raiders of the Lost Ark.  Here he makes his directorial debut, and does a mighty fine job of it (far better than anything else I’ve seen by him).  The cool jazz score works with the sweltering setting to create a swampy atmosphere where bad things can and will happen, where those who think they’re ahead of the game make crucial errors in judgment.

I’m not especially fond of William Hurt or Kathleen Turner (and the less said about Ted Danson, the better) and to be honest I would preferred some different casting, but they do okay.  Turner comes off better than Hurt, but of course the femme fatale is the juicier role.  One of the charms of classic “true” film noir is how they had to suggest lurid subject matter rather than show it.  The sex you have to imagine is better than the sex you see, so it always bugs me a little bit in neo-noir when there’s a lot of nudity and sex scenes.  Not that anyone should choose to work under outdated, repressive standards, nor do I mean to sound prudish, but it’s one of the things that makes old noir special.  Sex onscreen rarely works anyway, unless it’s supposed to be bad sex.  But, the scenes in Body Heat aren’t too bad, though perhaps a bit gratuitous.

Overall, the film works, and entertains.  Kasdan’s script is solid, with some nice snappy dialogue and pleasing character interactions.  Could use a little tightening up in the first act, perhaps, but it’s a fun time.  I’d watch it again.  Rating: Very Good

IMDb

Jellyfish (rewatch)

Three stories from Tel Aviv.  Keren (Noa Knoller), a newlywed, broke her ankle escaping from a toilet stall, and now she and her husband are stuck in an unsatisfying hotel room instead of their planned honeymoon in the Caribbean.  Joy (Ma-nenita De Latorre) is a Filipino caretaker, looking after an elderly woman with whom she shares no common language, and coping with separation from her young son back home.  And then there’s Batia (Sarah Adler), recently split from her boyfriend, a catering waitress who meets a silent little girl who apparently came out of the sea.  Writer/director husband/wife team Shiri Geffen and Etgar Keret (both Israeli authors of some renown) hook together the threads in slight ways, but this is not an Iñárritu-esque conceit.  It’s not important that their lives intertwine, but rather it’s three riffs on the theme of loneliness.

I wouldn’t blame someone for finding the film shallow and/or manipulative.  There is nothing hugely complex or groundbreaking about Geffen & Keret’s take on the subject.  But sometimes a movie just pushes your buttons in all the right ways.  The mix of magic realism (which, depending on your interpretation, might be simply realism), melancholy tones, poetic moments, sympathetic characters and gentle aesthetics strikes all the right notes with me.  I can’t point to a single performance I don’t love (okay, maybe the catering manager).  The film’s visuals are wonderfully balanced and provide memorable images, and the music is lovely.  It’s a film I find deeply satisfying, despite a few bits that I acknowledge are a little too clever.

There are a number of facets I find very interesting.  As a Ming-liang Tsai (I can never decide whether to use the western or eastern way of writing his name) fan, I’m entranced by the use of water.  Besides forming a basis for the boat motif and the jellyfish idea, it seeps Tsai-like into Batia’s apartment and the sea serves as an important element in her background.  The sea also both taunts and comforts the newlywed couple.  It’s also intriguing how each of these stories involves an intermediary person to connect people to others.  The girl connects Batia to her past and her new friend, Joy serves as a surrogate for the daughter her client can’t seem to bond with, Keren and her husband come together through their experiences with the writer.  One more thing I picked up on, though I’m not sure yet what to make of it.  Several times in the dialogue, a character will refer to someone with the vague pronoun “she” or “her” and another will respond “Who?”, often because the character is thinking of a different person at the moment.  It happens about four or five times.  Whether this has significance or is merely a peculiar writing habit of the authors I can’t say, but it’ll give me something to ponder the next time.  Rating: Great

IMDb

The Bride Wore Black (rewatch)

Although Truffaut is clearly working in the Hitchcock vein, there really isn’t a Hitch film with this sort of plot.  You could make superficial connections to Marnie or Vertigo and others, but he didn’t really do any films that focus so much on vengeance.  I’m not saying Truffaut isn’t paying homage, but it’s not a ripoff and has a stamp of originality.  One thing that’s undeniably Hitchcockian is the Herrmann music, and as far as you can accuse a composer of being derivative of himself, then okay, that part is derivative.  But still beautiful… it’s an incredible score, even one of his best.

The story does have one gaping plot hole, or rather unexplained bit of business, namely… how the heck does Jeanne Moreau find out who her targets are?  Also, the third murder is highly unlikely.  Not sure if Truffaut is to blame for these items, though.  It’s based on a Cornell Woolrich novel, and Woolrich’s stories are known for wild coincidences, farfetched implausibilities and the downright impossible.  I suppose I should read the book one day.  But that list is almost as long as the list of movies I want to see.

Nagging, nitpicky plotting issues aside, it’s a wonderfully crafted story.  The way Julie plans and adjusts to obstacles is wickedly clever, and her motives are withheld from the audience until halfway through film.  The use of alternating black and white costumes is a nice touch (and likely a nod to Janet Leigh’s brassiere in Psycho).  Moreau is fantastic, cold and calculating, using her victims’ lechery against them.  She makes a great femme fatale.  Her performance isn’t as striking as it was in Jules et Jim, but it’s still a damn good one.  Still, I’m wondering what compelled me to place this film in my top 100 last year.  It must have felt like the right idea at the time, a left-field choice to give my list a little oddball flavor.  It won’t appear in this year’s revision of the list, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the movie.  It’s a marvelous entertainment, whether as genre exercise, pure homage, or just another Truffaut delight.  Rating: Very Good

IMDb

The Bothersome Man (rewatch)

Andreas (Trond Fausa Aurvag) leaps in front of a train, and the next thing he knows (or the next thing we know) he gets deposited at a desolate, abandoned gas station, driven into a city and given an accounting job.  What appears to be a nice experience turns out to be bland and lifeless.  The people around him are unaffected by anything, and care about little except mild pleasures and interior design.  Hot chocolate has no taste.  Even the alcohol doesn’t get you drunk.  And jumping in front of a train won’t get you out of it.  If you like a film with mysteries, this one has plenty.  Where is this place?  Is it a disappointing Heaven or a banal Hell?  Why are there so few others who seem to care?  Is it a nightmare?  Where are the children?  What’s with those two people who creepily make out with their eyes open?  Does their presence in the opening and the middle mean that Andreas has always been here?  And where does he end up?

These are fun questions to ponder, but I don’t see the film as a puzzle waiting to be solved.  Instead, it’s a Kafka-esque (rarely is the term so appropriate) critique of modern, sterile society.  With typically Scandinavian deadpan wit, Jens Lien challenges us to examine what we consider important, to passionately seek out the things that make life worth living and not just an empty day-to-day existence.  There is a nice sense of subtlety at play here.  The inhabitants of the city are not merely robots.  They smile, they seem to enjoy each other’s company, they engage in leisure activities and seek out physical comforts.  They don’t appear to be Stepford Wives, they’re sincere.  But gradually the superficiality of their sincerity becomes clearer and clearer, until we realize that dinner parties are more important than break-ups, and the reigning topic of discussion is what couch to buy. 

I do feel obligated to say that the film wasn’t quite as rewarding the second time around as I’d hoped it would be, but I think that’s merely because I slightly overrated it the first time.  But we’re talking fractional differences in appreciation… if it’s not quite “masterpiece” status, it’s still a funny, intriguing movie with a fine performance by Aurvag (and the supporting players as well, especially Birgitte Larsen and Petronella Barker) and a muted aesthetic that perfectly suits its subject matter.  Excellent stuff for an existential crisis.  Rating: Great

IMDb