Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, 1953
Dir: Howard Hawks

Go pick up that date and sit down and watch this with her. She will (I'm guessing) like this a whole lot more than you, but there is something to be said about what is going on in this film. It is, of course, a musical, and that might be too much for some people. It is most of the time for me. And yes, there are parts of this where that whole "just break into song and dance" routine for no reason might make you roll your eyes. They would all be throwaways for me if they weren't so fucking bizarre. Just watch them. The one where Jane Russell is the lead where she is ogling all these beefcake athletes working out is not female empowerment. It's just plain homo-eroticism. None of then show any interest in her. They all seem enamored with either themselves or each other. Seriously, there is a Roman soldier painted on the wall! The story itself involves two lounge singers (Russell and Marilyn Monroe) on a cruise to Paris (uhhh what?). Monroe's character is an amplified version of her blond bimbo that she unleashed in Monkey Business (1952), and here she likes to play dumb rich guys for fools by acting dumb herself. She just wants to be happy. And money, obviously, makes you happy. Russell is sort of a counterpoint to Monroe, also on the prowl, but for love. She is a pretty good looking woman but almost seems downright masculine next to Monroe. Even if the film is all about these Women being empowered by their "bold" actions, it is still a Howard Hawks film. Clutter in the frame, natural dialogue, "three great scenes, no bad ones." Plus there more of that "eye-popping" Technicolor to contend with. I suppose you can look at this from a feminist angle (based on that that was the whole point of the original book), but Hawks never cared for that garbage. And neither should you.

3.5/5

Drums Along the Mohawk

Drums Along the Mohawk, 1939
Dir: John Ford

Not a Western. Maybe a proto-Western or something, but it just wasn't what I was expecting. Not that this is bad, in fact it is kind of interesting in that the main star of the film, Henry Fonda, isn't really the star. Fonda doesn't really have any of the key Western male lead attributes here, yet his character can be strange and vague despite his all-American hokey-ness (I think I've been trying to put that into words over the last couple of Ford reviews. I would understand why someone would be turned off by a lot of the performances in any Ford film, but they would be wrong to misinterpret that as something bad and not something deeper, and inherently American). Fonda has sort of a low-key charm about him anyway. After a wedding in Albany in 1776, Gil (Fonda) take his prim wife Lana (Claudette Colbert) make their way to a cabin that he built out in Mohawk Valley. Together, they must face their fears of the Frontier, Indians, and British Loyalists, embodied in one of the shadiest and subtle characters in the movie, Caldwell (John Carradine). There's a lot of stuff in this about community, American values, men and women co-habitating; stuff like that that either bores you or adds to the dynamic of the film. It's really tough to say for sure what Ford's thoughts were on Indians at this point. By The Searchers (1956) he had had plenty of time to meditate on his portrayal of them for film and how he really wanted them to be shown. So, maybe it is a little interesting that here they are either vicious, drunks, or converts. Blue Back (Chief John Big Tree) is an ally and friend of Gil, and is Praying Indian who is used for comedy (his penchant for yelling out "Hallelujah!") and as a reference point to white settlers (Fonda does not beat his wife with a stick to calm her hysterics, as Blue Back suggests). Whether there are subtler undertones is hard to figure out, but I guess that's what makes them subtle. Or maybe I'm reaching. Who knows? All I know is that there is enough here to make you think, and that is what I like. Besides, how many good Revolutionary War movies can you name? The Patriot (2000) (I know the awesomeness of Mel G. has been brought up recently, but the Patriot was Braveheart pt 2 and completely uninteresting apart from action/history stuff)? Naw dude. This is worth it if you are into Ford or Revolutionary War stuff.

3.5/5

Double French Dip

The Wild Child, 1970
Dir: Francois Truffaut

This is like nothing Truffaut had done before. Well, not really. There are elements in this about alienation in youth, but here it is for completely different reasons. The Wild Child is about a boy (Jean-Pierre Cargol) found in the French wilderness in 1798 who is taken in by a doctor (Truffaut himself) in an attempt to civilize him. Truffaut, I think, thrust himself into the film because he saw so may autobiographical elements in it. The boy is thought by the doctors at the beginning to be a bastard left in the forest for dead by unwanting parents (like Truffaut himself, well, the illegitimate part anyway). It's presented at a very leisurely pace, almost pseudo-documentary style, with a focus on Victor's (the boy responds well to "o" sounds) lessons and his troubles. But what really got me about the film was the quiet, cinematic moments that popped up: Victor staring at a candle late at night, demanding to pushed around in a wheelbarrow after feeling the exhilaration of it the first time, hiding way up a tree. The great black and white visuals by Nestor Almendros (Days of Heaven (1978), so a prettty fuckin awesome DP) only enhance a great little film.

4/5


My Night At Muad's, 1969
Dir: Eric Rohmer

The recent death of Eric Rohmer has been well documented, and I thought, in my own way, I might try to pay my respects to someone that many people think is a great director, and check out a film that I have never seen before. I can't lose right? Okay, I tried but this features basically nothing I look for in cinema. Rohmer is so self-conscious of his audience that it's nauseating. The fact that he's making his film as dry, unemotional, and pretentious as possible must mean he knows that he's appealing to a group of upper-class snobs who try to be intellectual. When he decides to have someone blabber on about stupid religious issues, it's no different than Tarantino deciding to have a guy with sunglasses shoot a bunch of people. I'll admit, the movie starts out pretty cool. Little to no dialogue (the dialogue between Trintignant and his colleagues is actually somewhat realistic!) and I'd say there were some pretty impressive shots but that's all the film has going for it. That, and Françoise Fabian as Maud is a stone fox. Basically every line in the movie is pondering about (completely uninteresting) philosophical garbage. Rohmer's characters don't even come close to resembling humans, they're pawns just executing his own ideas. Good for him, but I don't give a shit (sry yr ded tho).

P.S. Another reason why this fucking blows: it's a unanimous choice for a great "wine party" film on many "great wine party" lists. Hey Alex, can you make that best of decade list? Plz?!

1.5/5

This book is so good, let's talk about it forever...hey back there, how good is your book? I bet it's not even close to as good as this masterpiece. Sorry, I'm trying to connect on some level. I'm just a really deep thinker...

Hawks 1949-1952

So I did it. I plowed through these movies like no ones business. Was it worth it? Not really...

I Was a Male War Bride, 1949
Dir: Howard Hawks

I was never even remotely interested. Cary Grant dresses like a woman at the end? Holy Fukin Shizit.

2/5


The Thing From Another World, 1951
Dir: Christian Nyby (Howard Hawks)

Hawks fans claim that there is evidence enough to prove that he actually directed this, though I'm not sure why anyone would want to take credit for this turd. Maybe Cristian Nyby is like Hawks' retarded friend who he let direct as favor or something. You can only possibly like this if you are into those campy, alien invasion 50s movies, but even that I cannot fathom. So there's like this alien that lands in the arctic, and army guys go up there, and like, he's a fucking vegetable and that makes him immortal or something. Plus he looks like Frankenstein's monster, to add to all the what the fuck insaneness. The whole thing is like if children acted out some dumb alien play and did random things and said lazy nonsensical zingers, which can only loosely be correlated back to Hawks in the visual presentation. Shit city. "So bad it's funny"? I fucking wish, man.

1/5


Monkey Business, 1952
Dir: Howard Hawks

OK. So this really isn't that funny. Cary Grant is a scientist again, but instead of being a fuddy-duddy dork like in Bringing Up Baby (1938), he's just the aloof brainiac, which can be semi-interesting. The plot revolves around Grant's scientist team trying to make youthful energy potions. They test them on monkeys. One of the monkeys escapes and does whaaaat: inadvertently makes the elixir of life and drops it in the water bubbler. So craaaaaaaazy shit start to happen. So screwy it fuckin' hurts. But I really want to talk about Marilyn Monroe. So I'm not sure if I've ever really seen a movie with her in it, but after watching this, all I can says is this: I fucking get it. I know why millions of men fell in love with her. When she pops her head over a sign and sees Cary Grant buying a fancy car (so youthful) and she cracks a huge smile and says "Hiya!", you will get a twinge in your balls. NO joke. Her "day date" with Grant is like the one really interesting thing in the movie, and when she pouts at the end of it she is super hot.

3/5, just for MM

City Girl

City Girl, 1930
Dir: F.W. Murnau

Really, really good objectively speaking. I mean, Murnau, who would be dead a year from when this was made, with only 3 Hollywood films under his belt (Sunrise, the lost 4 Devils, and this), was clearly at the top of his game here. It's really hard to miss that Murnau is poetry and realism combined. Subjectively though, it's occasionally boring (Murnau had wanted to call it "Our Daily Bread" but was overruled by producers) and hard to plod through. But that there are things that catch your eye is what made Murnau a genius. He was one of the first directors who knew intrinsically what should be a given for cinema: it is not what is being filmed but how one films it that is all that matters.

The film pulls from Sunrise’s parable-simple use of country/city dichotomies and the naïve/savvy characters associated with them to tell a simple, starkly simple really, story of a young farmer (Charles Farrel) bringing home to his farm his new wife (Mary Duncan), a waitress from the city he met while on a trip to sell his father’s crop. At home, economic disappointment and bitterness in the family patriarch (David Torrence) turns him against his son but most especially against his son's “waitress” wife-of-the-city, and the boy simply isn’t strong enough to stand up to him. Ideals and poems dreamt, punctured, contested, and won: Sunrise all over again on a third the budget, right? Probably, but what City Girl lacks in scope and allegorical grandeur Murnau more than makes up for in focus and beauty. I mean seriously, the lantern light, the grain, the shadows. Amazing.


All that being said, if the film as a whole doesn't really work (for me), it has plenty of moments that are powerfully visual Murnau:

The loneliness of life in the city as you see the light of a passing elevated train sputter across Duncan’s face and her tiny potted plant in her cramped apartment.

The gleeful run of the young married couple across the family’s wheat field upon their arrival.

The evocative screendoors and angles of the small family house that seems to open up to the nighttime loneliness of the surrounding farmland. An appropriate shot for the master of light and mood.

4/5

Crazy Heart

Crazy Heart, 2009
Dir: Scott Cooper

I'm drunk, eating mac and cheese, and trying not to be too harsh on Crazy Heart, which is genuinely conceived but infinitely frustrating (fuck that). It was pretty alright until Bad Blake (Jeff Bridges) loses Buddy (the star of the movie?) and he decides he's gotta clean up his life. Pah-leaze. Missed connection with adult child, bad habits that are hard to break, relationship that can never really happen. Yeah dudez, I know that The Wrestler (2008) was kinda good (not to mention ended on a much more impacting note), but just retelling it in a washed up country star was annoying beyond my imagination. Wandering cameras going nowhere offset some pretty beautiful plains shots, so I can't really be ecstatic about the technical parts of the film. Connor you turddick, Jeff Bridges was incradible. He was, but as soon as the missing child thing happened he became a fucking cliche (if not before then too). "Maggie G. has floppy boobs." That's what my friend said during the middle of the film and I kept thinking about it. Colin Farrell was an absolute chucklehead and perfect as the phony Nashville star. It might have been the most poignant thing about the film, considering how close to home it must of hit for tons of "real" country fans dying to see this bad boy. Bad Blake should have been dead at the end, that's all I know.

3/5

3 Ford Westerns

I must say first of all that I am woefully lacking in having seen any John Ford films (besides clips or not really remembering them from a young age), who is probably one of the most celebrated American directors of all time. Luckily for this blog, he made a lot of Westerns, so I'm sure they'll get their due. After watching these three films, it's easy to see why his brand of cinema is wholly embraced by Hollywood today, and yet completely misinterpreted. A true successor to him nowadays might be found in someone like Martin Scorcese, but then again, not really.

Stagecoach, 1939
Dir: John Ford

The film that made John Wayne famous is not as dated as some make it out to be, but can be a bit rough at some points. Ford, still in black and white, can be seen visually at this point in his career as very much an acolyte to someone like Murnau, who deeply impressed him when he came to Hollywood in the late 20s. Watching this you can make out the subtle poetry of craftsmanship that Ford's fans have championed, but the subtle character growths only happen in about half the characters while the others are basically cartoons (the stagecoach driver and, after some really interestingly vague close-up shots at the beginning, the banker). There had been Westerns that succeeded as both art and entertainment before Stagecoach, but none had been so seamless in their melding of art and western thrills. The stunts during the Indian chase were state of the art, and if you were bored of the film until then, the mood and tension that Ford builds at the end is amazingly intense.

4/5


My Darling Clementine, 1946
Dir: John Ford

A true Western masterpiece, My Darling Clementine is more subtle and complex than most films ever hope to be. I'm not sure what everyone's thoughts are on Henry Fonda (mine being very neutral from the little that I've seen), but he is another actor whose lack of movement and verbosity make him a fantastic Western male lead. The Wyatt Earp tale has been told a millions times, but I've never seen one quite like this (so chill out Tombstone), focused on building up the myth while internally tearing it down. Honda as Earp can do no wrong (obviously), but his true desires and intensity are hard to figure out, especially after the murder of his brothers and the arrival of Clementine. Victor Mature is equally enigmatic as Doc Holliday, the arrival of his ex-flame Clementine ruining his plans of cutting a swath across the West before Consumption kills him. The biggest surprise for me has to Walter Brennan as Old Man Clanton, whose nastiness and general lack of ethics (thieving, rustling, shooting people in the back) can be down right shocking. It's his first performance that I've actually enjoyed. The final showdown at the OK Corral is pretty much perfect, and the influences seen in Ford's greatest foreign champion, Kurosawa, are pretty evident. Did Old Man Clanton actually reach for his gun at the end? Gray. And then the ending, with the great civilizing force of the Earps moving on, Clem staying to be a schoolmarm and Doc fulfilling his self-destructive destiny, what is that kiss/handshake at the end? I say it's more than meets the eye. I haven't seen that many Henry Fonda performances, but this must be his finest.

5/5


The Searchers, 1956
Dir: John Ford

More deep and ruggedly restless than any other Western I've ever seen, The Searchers is a much copied and rarely equaled film in it's epic landscape vistas and poetic heartache. John Wayne is never comically over the top (never great though), and his Ethan Edwards is broiled with inner turmoil. When he comes back home after years of being gone, the signs of his loner status are all over the place, and yet his passionate and longing brotherly forehead kisses make you wonder whether he is in love with his brother's wife (or if there was ever any history there). Ethan also harbors a bitter hatred of Indians (though he knows their lore and language well) and trusts no one but himself. This film is in many ways one of the sharpest American films on racism and its mechanism. Obviously the attack of the US Army against a native Comanche village is shown as genocide. Other characters never really get as fleshed out as Ethan (Martin, an eighth Cherokee who travel with Ethan in their search, being the closest), and there is that awful stock comic character that really stinks (nowhere to be found in My Darling Clementine). Scar may seem terrible at first, what with an Indian having blue eyes and all, but that's not really the point. Henry Brandon actually gives a subdued and subtle performance as an Indian chief trying to keep his people safe while preserving their way of life, which just happens to involve murder raids on homesteaders. The panoramic vista looking out from the frontier cabin onto the open west is really what the film is all about, though. The longing, lost restlessness of the "old West", something that was there but only really ever existed in peoples' minds. Ethan is the embodiment of all of that. Real, and yet nothing that can be a part of real life. Something perfectly captured by the alt-reality of cinema. The iconic last shot is proof of that. It is no accident that The Searchers was made by the master who re-established the Western, and then here created the first end-time Western.

4.5/5

The Tall T

The Tall T, 1957
Dir: Budd Boetticher
January 20, 2010

While looking around for something to do after I finish Murnau (only 2 films left!), I realized that for at least one of the "series" that I do, I don't want it to be just one director. I like that, and thinking about things that they continually use in their films is interesting, but I want to change it a little bit. The Hawks and Truffaut series will continue, if anyone cares, so don't worry about that. So, since I've been doing a few, I'm going to start a Western series. I'm not sure if this makes anyone else excited, but I am. In my search for a place to start, I was looking through "best Western" lists, and I found some stuff that looks semi-interesting. Budd Boetticher made a series of "B" Westerns in the 50s with Randolph Scott, which many people classify as "psychological" Westerns. So right there, it's looking good. This particular film caught my eye because it is based on a short story by a famous author. Yup, the author is Elmore Leonard, and the short story is "The Captives".

(Boone not really being with the others)

The Tall T is a lean (77 minutes), taut, and remarkable film because it really expresses a lot of the thoughts that I've been having about film in general lately, and particularly the Westerns that I've watched recently. It's a subtle, character driven film that really throws any kind of driving narrative in the wind, to the point that near the beginning of the film, where it starts wandering a little, I was like, "Where the fuck is this going?" Don't worry though. It goes to the most awesome place ever, way more awesome than even The Big Sky (1952). As an ex-"ramrod", Brennan (Scott) is living a rather lonely life working his own homestead. There are a few episodes in the beginning setting up the the film that may seem hokey and annoying, but seriously, there is no bullshit involved (explained later), and it sets up an important aspect of Brennan's character. It's the calm before the proverbial storm, setting up "normal" Western cliches that will be shattered later. Once he loses his "ride" and meets up with the stagecoach, the film kicks into gear.

(The landscape is it's own character)

The stagecoach party gets to the Way Station, visited earlier before, to drop off Brennan. Things aren't the same though. Three villains are waiting, plotting...well a heist, I guess, but just fucking mayhem seems like a better term. Right away, all the characters are sorted. Richard Boone's turn as the "brains of the operation" has to been one of the greatest villains in any Western I've seen, given that his sympathies lie more in becoming a man like Brennan, rather than the wayward youths whom he rides with. Scott does not want to kill Boone, but stoically acknowledges what is certainly forthcoming. Henry Silva as "Chink" is absolutely awesome. A pure sociopath with no moral compass, Chink is the trigger-finger and impatient whirlwind who doesn't mind any killing. Just watch his face in any background, or his body language. It's incredible. Then there's Skip Homeier as Billy Jack, a naive, impressionable lost soul who eventually gets his by trying too hard to be a "good 'ol boy" outlaw. Even these henchmen reveal added, fascinating dimensions to their characterizations. Their desperate dreams and goals are revealed, only for them to remind us later that they killed an innocent old man, a young boy and they plan to kill again. On the other side we have Brennan, the passive, calm Cowboy who is what every Western leading man should be. Along with him is Arthur Honnicutt as the grizzled sidekick who can never be, and the couple in the stagecoach, Maureen O'Sullivan and John Hubbard. Hubbard's character is, surprisingly, a standard stock coward, and not really developed as perfectly as everyone else in the film, but his performance is key for O'Sullivan, who must overcome the fact that a man married her for money and not for love. The sexual tension between O’Sullivan and Scott inexorably builds as they are forced to sleep together in the ramshackle hut while planning their survival.

("I'm for shootin' 'em now.")

As inevitable as the ending is, it still rings true, not only for the emotional dread that pervades the scene, but the fact that it never really has to happen (I mean in the film it has to happen, but something about the strange, "lost brothers" relationship that Boone and Scott have makes you think that it could have happened a different way). Randolph Scott, I must say, is the Western star I've been looking for.

(Mortal enemies or kindred spirits?)

Boetticher plays with many things the whole film: he gives you things that you now are going to happen, but doesn't necessarily show them to you or give them to you the way you think they should play out in a Western. The deaths at the Way Station, for example, are never shown, and one particular death, which can only be grisly, is only hinted at. Heinz Roemheld’s music is particularly useful in supporting this activity. The music is ambiguous, playful and not interested in cueing the viewer to emotion, mood, or impending events. Reading an article on the series of Westerns Boetticher made in the 50s known as "Ranown", it's hard to pick up some of the things that the director wants you to, especially if you don't know what to look for. Rick Thompson, in an article for Senses of Cinema, had this to say on Boetticher and this film (reading this helped me a lot): "The Tall T, along with the others in the cycle, it must be said, are films for connoisseurs, for viewers interested in Westerns and familiar with the genre’s history, traditions, iconography, themes, plots and gestures. The Tall T is not parodic, or ironic in the current sense, or self-referential, or self-conscious, or subverting, or postmodern (nor pretentious or sentimental, either), but everything in it is conscious, considered, thought out, condensed and precise. The filmmakers (including the actors) are creative minimalists: they spin more out of very limited resources – simple plot, few characters, few locations, few events, with the only spectacle being the bleak, grand desert and mountains of Lone Pine (and only one interior – a cave)." Maybe this film is not for a Western beginner, as stupid as that sounds, but it is sure worth the viewing for the great craftsmanship and thought that went into making it. Even with all that academic stuff, I still had a great time while not being entirely sure what I was looking for.

5/5

(The lonesome man of the West)

The Big Sky

The Big Sky, 1952
Dir: Howard Hawks
January 18, 2010

I'm skipping a couple of Hawks films in between Red River (1948) and this for a few reasons, but mostly because they are comedies which are probably super screwy. Another is that this is a Western, and can actually correlate somewhat to that review. I might do one of those combined reviews for the others, maybe not. I'll have to see if I can stomach the first one. The Big Sky is a frontier Western, focusing more on the Pacific Northwest, particularly in what I assume is Montana ("Big Sky Country"). I have a lot of half-formed logic in my reviews, and to say something like "I hate Kurt Douglas because he just pisses me off" might appear, or maybe it already has. There is no real logic behind it; it's just sort of instinctual. I seriously did not think he could act well. As Jim Deakins, a man heading West who gets involved with frontiersmen and Indian traders, Douglas slips right into the Hawksian bravura and risk taking ballsyness that blew my hair back during another great Hawks film, Only Angels Have Wings (1939). I think that most of it has to with The Big Sky being an ensemble piece, and Douglas' part doesn't demand the screen time which might make you groan or get a Douglas overload. And at the end, Douglas doesn't get what he gets in almost every other film he is in. To say the least, I was flabbergasted.


I think that I like this more than Red River because it actually feels like a Howard Hawks film, while also being a pretty good Western. This is a rousing, good-time adventure tale with two Hawksian buddies making their way through the untamed wild. Deakins meets Boone Caudill (Dewey Martin) in the wilderness, and right away, Boone punches Jim in the face twice because he thinks that Jim is "following him." The are so many of these strange outbursts of violence and manliness throughout the film, and they pretty much sum up Hawks' feelings on untamable masculinity, which of course is why they are in such an untamable place. From there they go on to meet up with Boone's uncle Zeb (Arthur Hunnicutt) in St. Louis, who tells them about a plan to go trade with the elusive Blackfoot Indians somewhere up the Missouri River. That's all that you really need to know about the plot, besides the fact that the traveling party also has a Blackfoot princess (Elizabeth Threatt) as a little insurance.


Of course, both of the buddies fall for her, even though the true relationship of the film is obviously the one they have with each other. At the same time, the greedy, evil owners of a fur company try everything to stop them, but Hawks presents all this in relaxed episodes rather than a constantly thrusting plot. It's a fleshed out tale that relies on it's characters, rather than the plot. To that end, Douglas is always smiling, despite the fact that he's constantly getting wounded and injured. In one scene, he has his finger amputated, but the mood is comical. Martin's character is interesting in that he's a loose cannon ("Sick 'em, Boone!") and a racist ("What you do that for?" "Nothin'. I just hate Injuns.") seething with hate, and yet is starting to realize that he's never going to be able to survive in the wilderness unless he turns into something closer to his uncle, a true frontiersman who can communicate with the Indians and even sympathize with them. And of course there is Teal Eye, the princess, who he is starting to warm up to despite the friction that exists between them (and the language barrier).


The one part of the film that is sort of bizarre is the message that Hawks is trying to tell about the vast wilderness itself. Hawks luxuriates in a kind of utopian vision of unspoiled America, and the rich, black-and-white cinematography by Russell Harlan received an Oscar nomination. I doubt that Hawks really thought about the impact White expansion had on Indians and the "Land" in depth, but there are definitely a few lines in the film that meditate on the future that Indians will have in America and also a few that are sympathetic towards the reasons behind their hostile actions. At the same time, there is also a ton of racist stuff that borders on comical instead of just trying to "tell it like it was." I think my favorite of these has to be Poor Devil (Hank Worden), the retarded Blackfoot drunk who the party meets a little ways up the Missouri. He is an embarrassment to Teal Eye in that he is always demanding whiskey and is known to be a "little touched in the head." A little bit of modern prejudice slipping in? Probably. Poor Devil will make you laugh though you probably know you aren't supposed to nowadays. The yuks were pretty intentional in the 50s.


This is most certainly not a typical Plains Western, but it is a Hawks film, and it should be good enough for anyone who enjoys French fur trappers, the Frontier, or classic American cinema.

4.5/5

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