Faust

Faust, 1926
Dir: F.W. Murnau
January 17, 2010

You know the story right? A deal with the devil. Whether it's Goethe or Marlowe, everyone knows the scope. The atmosphere of the tale is perfect for the someone like Murnau, who always had a knack for the more fantastical aspects of the subconscious; where the real world and the dream world dovetail. It gets a little held up in melodrama towards the middle, but so what. That's what people wanted, so it was probably thrown in by producers. This is a complete vision for Murnau. One of the greatest acts of production design I've ever seen. Every shot, every model, every set, every costume, every lighting setup is absolutely unified in creating a tangible, visionary work of dread. A picture review seems appropriate for this type of film:



The demons in Murnau's nightmares become the Legions of the Dead. Exprssionism at it's best.



Angels vs. demons. So much better than Angels and Demons.



One of the most memorable shots of the silent cinema; Mephisto (Emil Jannings), spreading his wings over a small town in Germany, in what has to be one of the finest special effects shots ever conceived.



Faust (Gosta Ekman) knows about planets and alchemy. Not curing plague or resisting temptation.



I went down to the crossroads...to summon the devil...



...watch me make out.



Young Faust (Ekman) thinking about how the plodding middle part really isn't that good. Unhelpfully, the Devil finds this hilarious.



More paintorial composition from Murnau. Gretchen's (Camilla Horn) only crime is to cach the eye of Faust, who taints all with the Devil's corruption. Horn replaced Murnau's first choice female lead, original movie babe Lillian Gish.



Can this much pleading save her? Faust answers the call...



...only to be burned with his beloved on a pre-Joan of Arc (1928) pyre. But that's the power...the power of love...but is that enough?



Yes. Yes it is. "I'm a winner. The film's a winner. But you, Mephisto...you're just a loser. Look how much higher my cross is than your stupid blood contract."

5/5

"You didn't read this, did you?"

Murnau, Truffaut and a Hawks 1948 Double

So I've been watching a lot and not writing anything (or not wanting to really), but here's some more on the list of the directors that I'm working through. I hate the feeling that I have to write something, but I look at this blog as also somewhat of a viewing log.

Herr Tartuffe, 1925
Dir: F.W. Murnau

Maybe the first instance of a "film within a film", this is not as visually striking as many as Murnau's other films, being that it was adapted from a play, and the chamber-drama itself unfolds pretty predictably (Oh, so he really isn't religious is he?), and that itself parallels the the "framing" story's plainess as well (Poison?!!?). There are a couple of really interesting things here though, such as many static shots that Murnau presents based on paintings that he enjoys (paritcularlly by master of "light", like Rembrant). It's a usage he has done before, and will use again in Sunrise (1927). There is also a very risque use of the "male gaze", maybe overt enough to be called a lustful gaze. Emil Jannings as the nefariuos Herr is not nearly as enjoyable as he has proven he can be.

3/5


Domicile conjugal (Bed and Board), 1970
Dir: Francois Truffaut

Back to Doinel, which is good. Bed and Board (or maybe Bored) is about the domestic space of young couples. Antoine (JP Leaud) and Christine (Claude Jade) are now a young married couple trying to get by while staying in love. Needless to say, once baby Alphonse comes, Antoine finds himself needing to break out (the scene where he takes an axe to his apartment wall for an addition; or is it for an escape?). I really wasn’t prepared for Doinel to be a married man. But it seemed to be a way for him to create needed order and structure. Truffaut's direction reflects this, being much more formal than the spontaneous and messy Stolen Kisses. He is, however, obviously still very dependent upon a certain amount of chaos and ambiguity, much to the frustration of his wife. She needs him to be a man, a husband, a father, but he is still very much the child from 400 Blows. But we like that about Doinel, despite the fact that he leaves behind one broken relationship after another, as if that were the norm, and as if it won’t potentially leave him sad and lonely in the end. Eternal adolescence is his fantasy, and yet he seems, by the end, to be truly lost about the fact that the guy at the end of Stolen Kisses was right. He is a "temporary person."

4.5/5


Red River, 1948
Dir: Howard Hawks

So, I was tricked. This was filmed in black and white, but the upload on Netflix for streaming is in color. And like all colorizations, it's all bleached out. I won't stay angry for too long at that, cause we're talkin' Westerns y'all! Westerns were one of those "watch with Dad" genres for me growing up, so I'm surprised that I never saw this. Granted, they tended to be more light fare stuff, but given the "classic" status this has in Western canons, I was surprised, but I probably haven't seen a lot of "important" Westerns because my Dad really doesn't care about that stuff (and for that matter, neither do I, because most of those things are wrong). But the biggest reason why I'm surprised is because John Wayne is in this, and the Duke made a few appearances at the Smith household (and yes, I've probably seen The Alamo (1960) about 10 times). Red River is about a cattle drive, and Hawks, this being his first Western, is front and center trying to put forth his ideas on what he thinks about the genre, and also manages a few moments that can be connected back to his earlier films. Wayne actually might be the most intersting character, a desperate cattle man trying to be manly among men and going a little bonkers. Well, his character has a dark turn out on the plains, which is what Westerns should be about, so I'd just say that the character is written well. No one else is particualrly stellar, though Montgomery Clift, who is the young gun, makes a strong, but rather one dimensional debut. His showdown with John Ireland's Cherry Valance is beefed up at the beginning and seemingly forgotten, which is disappointing. It was always in the back of my mind, considering that the Clift vs. Wayne duel that supplants it was only gonna end one way, particularly after the women element was introduced. The ending really is silly enough, but Joanne Dru can't help but drive it further into the dirt with her atrocious acting. I don't think that should stop you from watching this though. In fact, it's a good place to start if you want to get into Westerns. There is a lot of strong writing and decent acting.

3.5/5


A Song is Born, 1948
Dir: Howard Hawks

A remake of his own Ball of Fire (1941), Hawks shot this in technicolor while also retaining Gregg Toland. But by remake, I mean like Gus Van Sant's Psycho. It's a pretty pointless exercise actually, except for the music, which features some excellent swing and Louis Armstrong.

2/5

The Big Sleep

The Big Sleep, 1946
Dir: Howard Hawks
January 12, 2010

I'm not sure if any of my countless throngs of readers have a Top 5 list for Film Noir, or if this is on it, but this will bump one out for sure, maybe even slide into the Number 1 spot. From the opening shot during the title sequence of the silhouettes of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall smoking, you know what the score is. It's so weird and slightly off, but at the same time really funny and tightly written. There are some things that annoyed me a little bit, like towards the end they start telling the audience exactly what is going on a little bit too much, but that doesn't stop this from being absolute dynamite. The story doesn't entirely matter that much (though it is sleazy in a good way); it's what the characters do in it and how Hawks, under tight restrictions from censorship, uses innuendo and symbolism to convey his messages. That is what CINEMA is. To tell a story visually without actually saying it. Watch Bogey fuck this book store chick. You may not think that's what he's doing, but he is. How about maybe just talking about it? If you watch for things like this, there everywhere in the film. Hawks' direction, the Bogey/Bacall dynamic in a great film and the overall experience of just watching this put a smile on my face. The Big Sleep is all class.

5/5

Mississippi Mermaid

La sirène du Mississippi (Mississippi Mermaid), 1969
Dir: Francois Truffaut
January 11, 2010

As soon as this film started to play itself out, I knew I wasn't going to be that into it any more. It's strange, because it kind of turns into a "love on the run" film in the end, but even that didn't have me too interested. I'm pretty sure that Truffaut wrote the script to this after watching Vertigo (1958) one too many times. The psycho-sexual games and wordplay get sort of ridiculous at times, and many of the scenes (like when Catherine Deneuve changes her clothes in the time it takes JP Belmondo to get to their apartment upstairs from when he rings the doorbell) seem straight out of the head of a child, but that's Truffaut for you. There's a ton of Hitchcock elements to this, and again, Truffaut does some better than others. Belmondo's fever dream in this is actually one of the best of these that I've seen. I was actually sort of enjoying this at the beginning, where Belmondo's lonely Tobacco factory owner on the French island of Reunion in the Indian Ocean puts an ad in a newspaper looking for a wife. After corresponding with a woman for a while, one shows up (Deneuve), but it's not the woman in the picture he has been sent. He falls for her excuses, but we know that something's not right. That's weird enough, right? He gets played for a sucker, and then the film shifts to France. All the right ingredients are there for a nasty little film on self-destructive obsession, with the two main characters getting back together and getting in trouble, but then there's all that stuff about finding true love. Belmondo, though he tried to be Bogart in Breathless (1960), seems to me more of a French answer to Brando. I mean, he's not the best actor ever, but his presence on the screen is worth having him in your film. Deneuve has had finer moments too, but seeing her naked is worth it if you ask me. The problem with Mississippi Mermaid is that despite all of it's advantages at times it veers too close to melodramatic parody when Truffaut wants it to be taken seriously.

3/5

The Last Laugh

Der Letzte Mann (The Last Laugh), 1924
Dir: F.W. Murnau
January 9, 2010

Without the cop-out ending that the suits made him put in at the end, which he tries to explain with the only title card in the entire film (yes, only one!), this would definitely would have been the first true masterpiece that Murnau could claim to his singular vision. Nosferatu (1922) will have it's place because of the stark imagery that has made it famous, but it really can't compete with The Last Laugh's technical flair or it's sophisticated melodrama. Certainly not the first use of a moving camera, but the way that Murnau uses point-of-view shots, tracking shots, and light, must have been absolutely crazy to see for audiences in 1924. The opening shot, which simulates the p-o-v of someone coming down an elevator looking out glass windows, is just the tip of the iceberg. Just watch the scene where the main character is drunk. Hand held camera a-la 1924?!!? An aging hotel porter (Emil Jannings), who has the respect of his family and the poor tenement he lives in for his occupation, is demoted by the hotel manager to a bathroom attendant because he is getting too old. The result is one of great shame and loss, not just for the man but for his family, and his new job is the source of derision and laughter from the people who once had his respect. These seemingly exaggerated scenes, where people are sniggering and calling to each other throughout the tenement, which is exacerbated in his mind by Murnau, belie a certain national identity that must have hit home pretty hard in Germany, especially the porter's attachment to the uniform which is taken away from him. The reference of Prussia's militaristic culture and the foreshadowing of the rise of Nazism is not intentional, I think, but just a result of Muranu's inherent Germanness. The fact that he goes back to the hotel at night and steals the uniform back, and then deceitfully wears it home even though he no longer has that privilege speaks volumes on how people view rank and occupation there. It gets to the point where the porter is so ashamed that he even goes back the next night to hand the uniform back in, and ends up down in the bathroom, seemingly left to ponder the rest of his miserable life despite the best efforts of a sympathetic nightwatchman. This is where the title card appears, and Murnau basically says that this is where he would have liked to have ended the film, but the "author" was inexplicably kinder to the character (and, in Murnau's mind, not realistic). We find out that the ex-porter/washroom attendant has inherited a vast fortune, and he is living it up with his friend the nightwatchman at the hotel. It's devastatingly subversive (and painfully sad) because it's tacked on and spurious. Even in this deeply upsetting moment for Murnau, he was able to tack on some meaning to that ending. It was the 20s, the Great War was over, and money was starting to dominate culture over military power, especailly in Germany where wealth was becoming more skewed because of inflation. That doesn't stop it from being a completely unnecessary epilogue. But seriously, don't let it stop you from seeing this. Even if it's not the masterpiece it's supposed to be, it's pretty important for all the technical innovations that are still being used today.

4.5/5

To Have and Have Not

To Have and Have Not, 1944
Dir: Howard Hawks
January 6, 2010

This is a really good film, but the Bogey love, while certainly being warranted, seems like it's playing off the success of Casablanca (1942) a little too much. Well, maybe it's just that I thought this was going to a be noir, and it's not really. It's in that romance/adventure vein that Hawks works so well in, but I'm not sure that this is at the top of that heap. The set-up is like a lot of Hawks films, with Americans in a foreign place being very American, and the WWII element gives this a little more spice. Boat-captain Harry Morgan (Bogart) is in Martinique giving fishing tours to wealthy clients when the French government falls and Vichy thugs move in to take control. After losing his money source to some local political trouble, Harry agrees to help some pro-Free French people smuggle some people onto the island for some needed cash, but he wants to "mind his own business" at the same time. Can he!?! We got dragged into the war, remember? Along the way, he comes across a petty thief (Lauren Bacall) who is in Martinique because she has run out of money coming back from Brazil. Things start off bristly, as Morgan catches her picking his client's pocket and starts calling her "Slim." The male/female banter is some of the sharpest in any film, and with a script partially written by William Faulkner in his "soul-selling" days along with an Ernest Hemingway story (changed to better adapt to the screen), those things a pretty much a given. Bogart (44) and Bacall (19) had an affair during the shooting of the film, and the chemistry is evident on the screen. Needless to say, because of the relationship, Bacall became a bonafide star, and the film became hugely popular and a part of pop culture (I'm sorry. I just love these old cartoons. I mean, who doesn't?). Hawks was so upset and jealous about the budding relationship that he had affairs with never-meant-to-be starlet Delores Moran, who has a small part, and a script girl, but who knows what they were supposed make the two lovebirds feel, or how that is relevant to anything. I just think it's funny that that is how he took out all his rage. The set musical pieces, like in a lot Hawks' films, are pretty awesome, and like in Ball of Fire (1941), he got another Pop star involved, Hoagy Carmichael, this time as the fictional piano-man Cricket in the Hotel bar where many of the scenes take place. I may sound like a broken record when I say that the mise-en-scene in Hawks' films is always interesting, but it always is, and they always seem to relate back to other films, which is why Auteurists are fascinated with Hawks, who was always gracious but perplexed when Europeans, especially Frenchies like Truffaut, Godard and Rivette wrote deep, analytical pieces about his work. Take the scene where, after being interrogated, Bogey and Bacall go into the "local" bar where African drums can be heard and a Caribbean dance is taking place. This scene happens in a lot of Hawks films, but could be about any culture/and or place, with the bemused Americans taking in everything. It's exaggerated of course, in that slightly offensive/cinematic way. What is that line anyway? Syd Hickox's cinematography is great, especially when Hawks employs the fog out on the ocean or during all those great bar scenes. All this great stuff; so what's the problem right? Well, a lot of the supporting cast is just so-so if you ask me. Walter Brennan, who is a Hawks regular and was a favorite of his for that buddy/comedy role, plays a "rummy" who is always tanked and looking for another drink. He won three supporting actor Oscars for doing this sort-of bumbling fool physical comedy schtick, but I can never figure out whether he's funny or really annoying. The villains, especially Dan Seymour as the unctuous heavy Gestapo man Renard, who has a pretty cheesy fake french accent, are kind of dumb. So I wasn't all that interested in any of the tension or suspense that the film built up towards the end. The Casablanca similarities are pretty tedious actually, and I wouldn't rate that film anymore than a 3.5 as well so it irks me a little bit that people call that and this a "masterpiece", but I understand why films like this are loved. I think my biggest problem was that by the end I was getting bored, and the ending itself is not that cool. The film has nothing but the Bogart/Bacall dynamic going for it, which is phenomenal, but unlike Only Angels Have Wings (1939), which is the same sort of film, but not really at all, there is nothing else going on underneath. That film had the light-toned banter too, but also the great plot and the darker tones reverberating through it. Not that I think Hawks ever really gave a shit about any of that stuff, but the way that he made films allowed for the possibility. This is a fun, cinematic piece, but I don't think that it's the classic everyone says it is.

3.5/5

Stolen Kisses

Baisers volés (Stolen Kisses), 1968
Dir: Francois Truffaut
January 3, 2010

So after trying his hand at Hitchcock, Truffaut goes back to the character that jump-started his career in the first place, Antoine Doinel. In 400 Blows (1959), Antoine was a neglected kid who started to get into trouble and ended up in Juvi. In Antoine and Collette (1962), his first love at 17 rejects him for an older guy. With only a slight backdrop of the political unrest in France in 1968 running a current through the film, Doinel is now a military drop-out, dishonorably discharged from the Army and released to a future of petty jobs (hotel clerk, private investigator, shoe boy, TV repairman) and awkward romantic yearnings, in effect, the same boy we saw stealing a typewriter in 1959, only older, and more curious. It’s obvious that Truffaut feels for the character (and J-P Leaud, who is used much differently here than in Godard’s Masculin Feminin two years earlier, but that’s more about the differences in the directors at this point in their careers than anything) a certain kinship, guiding the boy through humiliation (calling an older woman he is infatuated with "Mr." and then running away) and sexual experimentation (having one night stand with same woman, who is his client's wife) with a tender gaze that only hints at the New Wave’s, and it's successors (uh, Rushmore (1998) anyone?), penchant for ironic realism. The film can kind of get caught up in Truffaut's love of cinema cliches, like the romantic slapstick of a terrible private eye (seriously, if you've seen that show on HBO, "Bored to Death," with Max Fischer and Zack Gaf, you know now exactly where they got the idea) or the need for the sinister stalker (who doesn't end up being so sinister), but that rarely gets in the way of the fact that it flows with the true rhythms of life; that people do stupid things, horrible things, and occasionally good things. Antoine tries really hard to get back with Christine (Claude Jade), his flame before the army, but still will visit a prostitute from time to time (and not be too pleased when they refuse to kiss or won't take off their sweaters). He tries to play it cool with her, but eventually he tries to forcibly make-out with her, and like Collette was when he was 17, she does not dig it. We later see Christine giving her parents excuses and sneaking out the back when Antoine comes calling. Once he becomes infatuated with the older woman (Delphine Seyrig, the "extraordinary woman" in the pic below), he stops coming to see her, so a clearly "playing hard to get" Christine wonders what went wrong, and goes seeking out Antoine. He totally cold shoulders her, and tells her that he "does not admire her." So after the affair (which causes him to get fired, his third time in the film), he ends up as a TV Repairman. Christine breaks her TV on purpose, and when he comes to fix it, though somewhat annoyed that he was the one sent there, they end up in bed together. This all sets up this stunning ending, where the newly engaged couple are walking in the park, and are approached by the sinister stalker who has been watching Christine throughout, who, rather than do something, well, sinister, professes his love for her. He describes his love as "definitive" and unlike the "temporary" love of "temporary people." When he walks away, Christine explains that the man must be mad. Antoine, recognizing similarities in much of his own previous behavior, admits, "He must be". Woah. How good is that? I seriously love these messy coming-of-age stories, especially when Truffaut is in complete control. This doesn't leave you with the devastating freeze-frame that 400 Blows did, but it's similar noncommittal ending leaves Antoine in the only place he can be; yearning, awkward, in between.

4.5/5

The Finances of the Grand Duke

Die Finanzen des Großherzogs (The Finances of the Grand Duke), 1924
Dir: F.W. Murnau
January 1, 2010

Somewhat of a head-scratcher, this light comedy of errors isn't really what I want to see when thinking about a typical Murnau film, but it amused from time to time. So, right there you have to think about whether being amused (and not just in a lightish tone) is good enough, or if you want something to be actually funny. It's obvious that Murnau's comedic skills were far less developed than his flair for drama and melodrama. However, there are some good points throughout this film, even opportunities for him to throw in his signature expressionism. The plot is not especially credible nor especially funny (so Thea von Harbou sucking once again), and each chapter of the story is prefaced with an introductory title which (except for the climactic one) features a long, long description of who these people are and what they mean to accomplish. I hate that stuff, as I have already written about. The best performance in the film is given by Alfred Abel, who was good in a very different kind of role in Phantom (1922). Here, surprisingly, he's quite funny as a wealthy eccentric who resorts to various scams and false identities to enrich himself even more. Although long stretches of this comedy are unfunny, this nevertheless contains the what some think is the earliest example of a perennial sight gag called "the punctuated stampede." We've all seen this gag in dozens of cartoons: a mob of figures rush across the screen, followed by a pause, and then one last little straggler brings up the rear. In this film, for no discernible reason, a top-hatted Abel contrives to send a pack of wolfhounds racing through his own mansion...with a little dachshund bringing up the rear to punctuate the stampede. It's pretty bizarre and got my biggest laugh. In the central role of Don Ramon the Twenty-Second, Grand Duke of the Mediterranean nation of Abacco, Harry Liedtke is only vaguely amusing. Fans of Nosferatu (1922) will be intrigued to see Max Schreck's name in the cast list here. Schreck plays one of a quartet of political agitators. He wears a long straggly beard and looks impressively gaunt but has almost nothing to do, except for one amusing bit of physical business when a maidservant chases him out of the Grand Duke's castle. A far more impressive (and much more physical) performance is given by Hans Schaufuss as Schreck's hunchbacked co-conspirator. Schaufuss leaps, capers, goggles at the camera, and even swings from a rope. The exterior photography is excellent, and I felt a twinge during a shot of a tram moving through a city's streets at night, reminding me that he's capable of such visual moments. Several sequences were shot on shipboard, and I was pleased to see the horizon heaving up and down realistically, unlike in so many Hollywood films which feature stationary cameras in "shipboard" sequences. There's one scene at the very beginning where the Duke is throwing coins to a group of skinny dipping boys, also shot really well, but it seemed to me that while it was supposed to be a way of showing how thriftless the Duke is, it might also have been one of Murnau's subtle "gay identity" moments. Either way it's really weird. After reading some other reviews and Murnau biographies, it seems Murnau wasn't really that happy with this. It's typical Euro-farce stuff that really didn't let him use his talents as a filmmaker.

3/5

Air Force

Air Force, 1943
Dir: Howard Hawks
December 30, 2009

I knew going into this what type of film it would be, all things considered, but I had no idea that I would be so conflicted about it. On the one hand it is pretty awful, what with all it's propaganda messaging and the "gee whiz," "let's work together" nonsense that pervades the whole film. However, it's actually a pretty decent Howard Hawks aviation action flick in the end. Certainly not coming close to the perfection of Only Angels Have Wings (1939), but enough to keep you interested. WWII was in full force, and Hollywood was doing it's bit to keep up morale at home, so pretty much every big time director was either doing stuff like this or they were actually with troops making documentaries for the war department. It's eye-rolling stuff most of the time, even moving into "tough pill to swallow" sometimes. The film is about a bomber crew that's on it's way to Pearl Harbor when the attack happens, and lots of racists stuff start flying like "nips", "japs," and "monkeys" (?). There's one really awesome joke thrown in where they are first picking up Japanese radio signals and they are trying to figure out what it is, and one of the guys says, "Who is that, Orson Welles?" The rest of the film is about them trying to get through that first week of the war when they knew that the Japanese would be pushing them back until America could recover, with the plane moving on from Hawaii to Wake Island, and then on to the Philippines. The action scenes are really great, and the cinematography by James Wong Howe is pretty great as well, as he was a practitioner of deep focus like Gregg Toland, and manages to pull of some pretty interesting visual shots for a film that really isn't about that. The shot I'm putting in is what I'm talking about. If you are into war films and WWII this is worth checking out, but other than that I can't see other stuff that would make this interesting to people who are not.

This is what they were feeding to the adult movie-goer. Personally, I much prefer the stuff that they were feeding to the kids.

3/5

Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock Holmes, 2009
Dir: Guy Ritchie
December 30, 2009

We all knew that Sherlock Holmes (2009) would be a Guy Ritchie film, the trailers made sure about that. The question remained, however, whether the detective tale would have anything to do with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s creation besides the title. Well, it begins by showing the Ritchie aesthetic, with Robert Downey Jr.’s Holmes deducing in his mind how he will dispatch a watchdog goon standing guard. The slo-motion stylings in his head soon become a normal speed/quick edit reality and the adventure has begun. There's even a bare-knuckled boxing match set to folksy British isle music (not The Stranglers though) for the Ritchie auteurists to sink their teeth into. I like the Holmes tales (so there is a reason why I went to see this), as I have some sentimental attachment to most stuff that I enjoyed as a kid, and even more to the character itself. Robert Downey Jr. does at great job at portraying some vague cartoon of Holmes, but actually liking the stories may be a hindrance to liking this a whole lot. Not that he and Jude Law aren't good in their buddy bits, but putting the cleverest line of a movie in a trailer is really killing a lot of films these days. Rachel McAdams isn't gonna change your mind on how you think about her. And is Mark Strong really that menacing? It doesn't help that the story, while trying to get into that whole Victorian/industrial revolution/secret society atmosphere, sort of left me feeling like I was watching Tom Hanks scramble around in Angels and Demons (2009). Oh, yeah. All that occult/black magic red herring stuff too. The only thing that kind of kept my interest for the most part was having Moriarty skulk outside the main plot, teasing us for what surely will be a sequel. That and the fact that Ritchie has always done a pretty decent job with that whole gritty underground London thing. There's no need to be excited about this though. It's all spectacle and no engagement. All explosions and no suspense. A coulda-been-juicy update capsized by its own trickery.

2/5

The Bride Who Wore Black

La Mariée était en noir (The Bride Who Wore Black), 1968
Dir: Francois Truffaut
December 29, 2009

This Francois Truffaut thriller is based on a novel by William Irish, whose books had been adapted by Alfred Hitchcock on many previous occasions, so you can tell that the Hitch worshiping is continuing. The ominous musical score, written by Bernard Herrmann, another frequent Hitchcock collaborator, is probably the best part about this film. Jeanne Moreau stars as a woman whose fiancé is killed in a freak accident by five men. Utilizing a series of disguises, Moreau, never one for excuses, tracks down all five culprits, sexually enslaves them, and then engineers their deaths. And Tarantino claims he never saw this film. Yeah right, you fucking film geek. If you ever watch this, sit back and laugh as you see how much of a thief Tarantino is. As for the film itself, I'm starting to think that Truffaut was rather too ponderous, subtle and/or out of his element every time he tried to get into Hitchcock territory. It's stylish enough, and thrown in are a boat-load of cinema/suspense cliches, but the production values are surprisingly lackluster. It does manage to build some effective suspense toward the end, but overall, it's not really that great. So totally the type of film that Tarantino would rip off.

3/5

Phantom + others

I said a little while back that I wanted to look at more of Murnau's stuff so I'm going to do that now. I watched a film last week called Schloß Vogelöd (The Haunted Castle) that he made in 1921 that takes place in a castle that isn't haunted. It's more of a chamber drama about revenge I suppose, which wasn't awful, but it barely had any of Murnau's expressionist touches, and add to that the fact that the film transfer on to the digital format was fucking abysmal. It was really hard to tell what was even happening most of the time, plus with trying to read the inter-titles it just wasn't worth it. Tagged on to that DVD was an American film from 1925 called Wolf's Blood. I'm guessing the distributor put this together as one of those "horror double-bills" that you often stumble across to add an extra bit of enticement, especially when the movies aren't that good. It's too bad that these aren't horror films. Wolf's Blood gets credit for possibly being the first werewolf movie ever, but what they don't mention is that it also might be the dumbest movie ever too. It's never scary; a guy gets a blood transfusion of wolf's blood that turns him retarded. I was kinda hoping that he'd just run off into the woods after they say he mauls some guy (yeah, you don't see it), but a whole fucking love story comes into into it and flushes it below 1 star territory.

Phantom, 1922
Dir: F.W. Murnau
December 26, 2009

Phantom (1922) was made right after Nosferatu (1922), but Murnau had such trouble getting money together due to the terrible inflation that the German Mark was going through that it a miracle a lot of it got made. Add to that the fact that for the longest time people thought that this was a lost film it's pretty remarkable that we even get to watch it at all. It was found and put together based on Murnau's notes about it, but it's tough to say for sure on these things if it's exactly the way it was supposed to be. Some of the reels that were found were damaged, so a lot of the frames needed coloring to make any kind of restoration possible. The archivists tried to correlate the color to the mood of the scene but again it's hard to say if this adds anything to what Murnau was trying to do. The film itself is pretty good, especially when Muranu's dreamy Expressionist moments are allowed to dominate scenes. The biggest problem that film has is that it was penned by Thea von Harbou (Metropolis), and her heavy-handedness is all over the place in this one. Especially at the end. In what could have been a downright bummer, where Lorenz (Alfred Abel) goes to jail for his obsession, it peters out into "oh I was so crazy back then" foolishness. So the whole flashback part of it really ruined it for me. Lorenz is a goody goody who writes poetry and has female admirers, but when he's run over by the daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the city, he's love struck. His poetry, championed by a book-keeper and his smitten daughter, is scoffed at by a publisher as mediocre. He soon realizes that he will never be able to win the heart of this girl without money; he is chasing phantoms. He asks a wealthy aunt for a loan, and she agrees given his honest reputation. When he meets a woman who is a dead ringer for the rich girl at a night club, it's game over. The worst part is that she is a prostitute. He starts blowing all the borrowed money on her and aunty is none too pleased. The film unravels the way a tragic drama should, and like I said, had it ended on that downbeat note, it would have hit home much harder. Lorenz's inability to get out of the mess that he makes for himself is probably the best over-arching theme of the film, so the fact that they lessen it's blow at the end kills it. This is worth checking out if you like Murnau or early expressionist films. Those parts in this are really good. I mean look at the in-camera trick below. The buildings on the left are "collapsing" on him!

Ball of Fire

Ball of Fire, 1941
Dir: Howard Hawks
December 19, 2009

Even an extreme dislike of all of Hawks' previous comedies couldn't dissuade me from having a rollicking time watching this. Maybe the masterful triple threat of Hawks directing, Gregg Toland as cinematographer (Citizen Kane (1941), and a screenplay written by Billy Wilder (Sunset Blvd. (1950) pushed it over the edge. Seriously, Deep Focus. It's structure, while being fine, isn't really what makes this an important film. It's a piece of pop cinema for 1941 for sure, as a gangster comedy, but this ain't Analyze This (1999). The social commentary that Wilder's script adds is pretty subtle while not taking away from any kind of entertainment value, which is why I think this is good. Not only does it take subtle jabs at politics, especially when people take it too seriously (some foreshadowing of McCarthyism), but the sexual innuendo is off the charts for a film from 1941. Gary Cooper plays a nerdy (really, more nerds?!?) English professor helping to compile an encyclopedia with the help of 7 other much older professors (based on the 7 dwarfs of Snow White) who, in an attempt to figure out the new "slang" used by real people (like "smackeroos" or "killer diller"), meets Sugarpuss O'Shea (Barbara Stanwyck), a nightclub singer who's involved with the mob. Cooper I think needs a lot of cultish love to appreciate, but Stanwyck really shines in this, throwing out her ballsy jive with a charisma that radiates with her verbal sexual aggression that must have been something of a shock for people when they first saw this. She pretty much typifies what the strong Hawksian woman is. Some of the comedy bits are a bit corny (or maybe just very 1940s), even the bit that is about "corn," but it's hard not to laugh a lot during this. Also the scene where Cooper first sees Stanwyck is a big reminder of how cool Big Band was. I'll let you decide what to think of "Matchbox Boogie." Gene Krupa also shows why he was the hero and inspiration of many crazy rock drummers, especially Keith Moon. This film has something for everyone, and is totally worth watching.

4/5

Fahrenheit 451

Fahrenheit 451, 1966
Dir: Francois Truffaut
December 15, 2009

More Hitchcock from Truffaut, except this time he directs his only English language film that not only blends Hitch but also dark 60s sci-fi along with his own sense of light whimsy. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. I'm assuming every 8th-grader ever has read this so I won't go into the story, but Truffaut (wisely, I think) leaves things out that are in the novel to keeps things tight, and yet also lets him do his typical meandering thing within those scenes. Oskar Werner (Jules from Jules et Jim) plays Montag the "fireman," and I'm not quite sure how his accent played out in this. At the beginning I suppose it's alright, where you can identify with that "foreign" totalitarianism. Julie Christie does a nice double act as Linda/Clairisse, and I want to say she is a mega-babe but seems like she'd be way too nice. She's very attractive anyway. As the story progresses and he starts to read books, Montag gets "anti-social" (seriously, parts of the novel make no sense and I was thinking about it while watching this) and "weird," which is bad. He's not fighting the system, he's just being a nerd. Who cares, right? I guess that's more a problem of the story than the film. The film itself is an exercise in style over substance, and in creating a futuristic realm with a palpable sense of “otherness,” Truffaut succeeds in creating a wonky dystopian fantasy world that only occasionally feels brutally left in the 60s. All of this is captured through unique compositions (with an even more unique color palette) by cinematographer Nicolas Roeg. Best of all, in keeping with the story's theme, printed word is not allowed (take that Godard). Therefore the opening title sequence cleverly (and ominously) uses a detached voice-over as the camera pans a sea of rooftops, each of which has a television antenna broadcast directly to the unthinking zombies. The story is a little played out, but only Truffaut would have made the film like this.

3.5/5

Side Street

Side Street, 1950
Dir: Anthony Mann
December 13, 2009

So this weekend's noir double feature moves on, but I must say that this is not nearly as impressive, at least in it's narrative. The film is really silly and dumb for an hour, and then gets pretty good until a voice-over-laden ending, but the film is only 80 minutes long so big friggin whoop. Farley Granger and Cathy O'Donnell are back as a young couple, except this time they both aren't really that good and not just Granger. Granger's Joe is a mailman looking to move up in the world. When he notices where a lawyer stashes some of his dough, he decides that he's gonna snatch it to help out his pregnant wife. What he doesn't know that the lawyer is crooked and has stashed some blackmailed money in there, and instead of just taking a couple of hundred bucks, he unwittingly takes $30,000. If there is anything that can save this movie, it is the style of Mann, who I admit I must look further into. The film starts off normally (or annoyingly) enough, but soon the camera angles distort madly, shadows loom ominously, lighting and air is sucked from the frame. Although the script tries to keep up the Jean Valjean myth of Joe's essential goodness, it is clear that he becomes damaged: he will never be able to return to his old, naive certainties. He learns both what evil is, that as a thief he has it within himself, and how it can be used, even if it's just to save himself. It's just a shame that some narrator has to tell us all this; Mann has done a pretty good job visually. At about an hour into the film, Joe end's up at a club looking for information and has a scene with Jean Hagen that is really great formally. It caught me off guard as I was really thinking about all the things that were pissing me off. The film ends with a wild car chase scene that captures New York in that gritty, bleak way that Kubrick tried to do later in Killer's Kiss (1955) but didn't really have the professional equipment to do so. The aerial shots of New York at the beginning and end are also really impressive. In the end it's a pretty good example of how a good director can save a movie, but also how a terrible script can still keep it down.

3/5

They Live By Night

They Live By Night, 1948
Dir: Nicholas Ray
December 12, 2009

A fine debut from Nicholas Ray in the film noir/melodrama genre, but I have a bit more of a soft spot for it considering it could quite possibly be the first "love on the run" film. It's obvious that Ray's propensity to cast a sympathetic eye on undesirables is evident already, and the tenderness and romanticism with which he handles the script really elevate it past a lot of others in this great sub-genre. The characters are pretty straight forward, nothing fleeting like in Badlands (1973), but there is a sweetness and naivete that seems to be all about what Ray's thoughts on cinema were, and which is certainly unique to any other kind of film noir that coming out at the time. Add to that the bittersweet atmosphere and constant lyrical theme of missed opportunities, it's no wonder I liked this so much. The acting is not amazing but it is played out in a way that is dramatic but not silly, which is all you can really ask for. One scene where Bowie (Farley Granger, who can be a bit hammy) is wondering why Keechie (Cathy O'Donnell) would go with him knowing that the cops are after him is particularly telling, with soft-light close ups and melancholy music while they are drinking milk, another nod to the childlike innocence of these kids who are in over their heads. Ray was dealing with the censorship of the times, but the sensuality of the making out by the fire, the aggression with which Keechie tries to save Bowie from slippin' back into crime, the “Your Red Wagon” song (a little more obvious nowadays, but still quite bold), the sensual sharing of the sweet potato pie, and not to mention Bowie’s frequent shirtlessness, is about as erotically charged as an 1948 film can get. I think that these themes will be just as evident for the later films that he is more famous for (which I have yet to see), but I really dig it. It seems to me that Ray didn't just touch upon the taboo; he simultaneously added innocent lyrical romanticism along with that hard, subversive edge. How cool is that?

4.5/5

His Girl Friday

His Girl Friday, 1940
Dir: Howard Hawks
December 10, 2009

I think I said earlier that there might be some better screwball comedies out there than the few that I have seen. While this is probably a better film than the earlier efforts (objectively speaking), I still just really didn't like it all that much. I suppose that it all comes down again to my sense of humor and this not being funny enough more of the time. It actually got a few chuckles out of me, and has one of the snarkiest jokes ever (When some asks Cary Grant what Craig Bellamy's character looks like, he says "Oh you know...that actor, Craig Bellamy."), but it's pretty boring. The whole battle of the sexes thing didn't make me bat an eye, and Rosalind Russell was pretty annoying as ex-wife who can't get away. Grant was in his great cock-sure mode as a newspaper editor, but even some of his zingers fall flat. Some of the best stuff in the film comes from others who only surround the main duo, like the press room guys who always have something clever to say. Hawks' style is always evident and there is again nothing you can fault in the composition or pacing, so you have to go to the story, which is just not very fun, which it is supposed to be. This gets a lot of attention because of the lightning-paced dialogue, but also because Hawks and the screenwriters wrote a lot of the dialogue so that people would start talking and arguing over each other, you know, "like people do in real life." I think it was an observation that Hawks made about life that was well in-tune with his own sense of naturalism and how it could mesh with cinema. Not that it helps the story out a whole lot, but it certainly led to some of the better comedy bits. I hate to say it, but Screwball is lame.

(barely)3/5

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans, 2009
Dir: Werner Herzog
December 9, 2009

"Shoot him again!"
"What the fuck for?"
"His soul is still dancing."

A complete shambles of a movie that is totally worth watching for the hilarity and bizarre sincerity that is Nicholas Cage doing his best Klaus Kinski. What's obvious is that Cage is not doing anything new (even pulling a little Sailor Ripley at times), or anything that wouldn't make you roll your eyes in one of the many blockbusters that he's in. But in this, it just works, even if it doesn't add up to any kind of powerful character study. Cage, like Kinski (Aguierre (1972), Fitzcarraldo (1982), is perfect for a Herzog's fiction film because the artifice of character that he bellows out while he struts around seems at odds with Herzog's visceral reality that defines all of his films, and yet completely enhances Herzog's storytelling abilities. The plot kind of gets in the way most of the time, so all you have to know is that Cage's character is a dirty cop (or just a cop that get's the job done?), and just 'cause he like to get high don't mean he stop bein' the po-leece. The more drug-addled his mind gets, the stranger he gets, and while he seems to be messing up his life, his police work still means everything to him even as he gets sucked deeper into the serpent's world filled with gators and iguanas. Val Kilmer is his just as weird kind-of partner who is not in nearly enuugh of this, Eva Mendes is his hooker girlfriend who suddenly decides to get clean, and Xzibit is a gangster named Big Fate who has two lackeys called Midget and Gee (the bit about "Gee," a name that Cage finds ironically amusing, is one of the funniest things in the movie). Low contrast, gritty, and cocksure, Herzog lands on a stylistic swagger I’d expect for a movie with the synopsis at hand. However, I was left wondering how these choices contribute to any semblance of structure. They don't. The dialogue on institutional failure doesn’t hold a candle to The Wire either. But only Werner Herzog could have made this Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans (which I'm guessing is a bit different than the original) because only he has such a bizarre vault of fresh images and ideas that he so willingly feeds to us. All this silliness straight into seriousness, and also the Herzogian commitment to the strange; the peculiarly poetic moments of Cage reading the poem of a dead Senegalese boy about his fish or how he explains to his girlfriend that he found a spoon in his yard when he was a boy that he thought was buried treasure and then hid it in a shed, but has no idea now where in the shed he hid it. Even if it is rather garbled, and at the end Cage is right back shakin down kids outside a club for sex and drugs, this was hypnotic in it's looseness and unpredictability. Not to mention pretty fuckin' funny. A real guilty pleasure.

3.9/5

The Soft Skin

Le Peau Douce (The Soft Skin), 1964
Dir: Francois Truffaut
December 7, 2009

It's Hitchcock meets New Wave in the film that basically threw Francois Truffaut's rocketing star back to earth, and in a sense, ruined his big-time movie career (but not his reputation). Let me say this: this should not have ruined his movie career. People were expecting something else, considering the lighter and more whimsical tones of his earlier films, but this was consistent throughout and helps make it a pretty good film. Watching it now, it seems like a lot of other adultery pieces that I've seen, but in 1964, I'm not sure how audiences would have handled it. Europeans I would have thought would be OK with it, but maybe it was always just one of those unsaid things that was tolerated but never brought up. The film is about a family man and famous lecturer from Paris, Pierre (Jean Desailly) who falls for young stewardess Nicole (Francoise Dorleac) (seriously though, who wouldn't?) when he goes to talk about "Balzac and money" in Lisbon. The typical awkward situations come up over how he is going to hide his infidelity and lead a double life, and then when he is gone for more than one day his wife (Nelly Bennedeti) starts to get suspicious. Just when you think that Pierre might have gotten his way (getting a divorce from his wife, but sleeping with her one last time, and then moving to a new place with Nicole and contemplating a new marriage) his plans fall apart as Nicole realizes that she's 22 and doesn't want all that yet. There are basically 2 endings and that is one of them, which works fairly well and could have ended the film. The second one, at the very end, is crazy but kind of stupid. The whole vibe of the film is very Hitchcock, from the score to the pacing and even characters watching each other. Seriously, when Pierre watches Nicole dance I'm pretty sure I know exactly how he feels. And there was no phony voice-over, which is awesome. In the end though, it's just that, not quite a "genre" piece but something that feels less Truffaut and is more about his love of Hitchcock, which was immense, with a New Wave twist. Decent.

3.5/5

As Tears Go By

Wong Gok Ka Moon (As Tears Go By), 1988
Dir: Wong Kar-wai
December 5, 2009

All the WKW ingredients are already there along with some of his trademark poetic moments. But overall, it still feels like an what is just an average Hong Kong gangster film, and as other critics have noticed, it's pretty much just a rip-off of Mean Streets (1973) narrative wise. This is not nearly as good or ambitious as something like Chungking Express (1994), but I think I enjoyed watching this more, especially since in between laughing at all the gangster cliches and excruciatingly 80s music, I was kinda wondering whether all that was getting riffed on as well (or as least Top Gun (1986)). Probably not considering the success of that movie. They were probably just looking for the same vibe. All the acting is like that too, with Andy Lau, Jackie Cheung, and an incredibly young looking Maggie Cheung caught hard in that decade. This just seems like a good movie to break into the Hong Kong movie biz, and let people know you are capable of handling a film.

2.9/5