Category Archives: Criterions
The Palm Beach Story, Preston Sturges, 1942
One of the many things I like about Preston Sturges is that he’s all over the place. It is not that he completely defies the Classic Hollywood conventional formula, but that he is not confined to it, and he plays with expectations. Even in the screwball comedy genre, he’s a bit of a loose cannon and less predictable. The Palm Beach Story is even more out there than others, like the soon to be upgraded Sullivan’s Travels (which, to be fair, is not exactly conventional either).
While the overall journey does not sound too far fetched – they start in New York, take a train to Jacksonville, and then boat to Palm Beach – it is the detours along the way that make this truly a Sturges picture. Tom (Joel McRea) and Gerry (Claudette Colbert) are the true leads and get the most screen time, but they share it with plenty other colorful characters. It is not the Capraesque manner of portraying two primary characters with some dimension and flattening all the others around him, such as in It Happened One Night, also with Colbert. He uses the supporting characters to give texture and flair.
All of the characters are a lot of fun, whether they are major or minor, but I am going to touch on the best of the supporters.
The Quail & Ale Club
My favorite batch of supporting characters is the band of drunken hunters that take Gerry under their wing and give her access to their train car. They are introduced one-by-one, all with ridiculous names, but not to the extent that they could all be totally made up, just far from the norm. When they get on the train and start drinking, they are a delight. Two fellows start a competition where they will shoot crackers in the cabin, which a racially insensitive stereotypical African-American porter (unfortunately, this was common to the era) would reluctantly throw the crackers up in the air. At first one drunken gentleman seems to think they are merely miming the shot, which itself is a little silly since there could be no way to prove which is a hit. The reality is even more outrageous. The man loads a live round into the chamber, and succeeds in hitting the cracker, shooting out the train window in the process. They do it again, and eventually the entire Ale & Quail Hunting Club are shooting toward the train window, destroying the entire cabin. Rather than deal with drunks with guns, the conductor simply detaches their car and goes on without them.
Tom, Hackensacker, Gerry
The next two characters are the ultra-rich descendants of the Hackensacker family (an obvious mockery of the Rockenfellers). John D enjoys the idea of paying for whatever Gerry needs along the way, which includes a wardrobe since hers was on the Ale & Quail car. He even meticulously writes down each amount, although we learn later that the total bill means next to nothing to him. He could own the store without blinking. His sister, Prince Centimilla (Mary Astor) is later introduced, and they are both humorous in their pursuit of married couple that are playing as brother and sister. The best comic relief is Toto, who bears more than a passing resemblance to Carlo from My Man Godfrey as the jilted sponge who passive aggressively allows himself to be cuckolded for a free meal ticket.
The most outlandish part of the feature is the ending. I won’t reveal the specifics, but it is a form of a deus ex machine (sort of), which comes completely out of left field. There are some films that I see this type of ending as sloppy and lazy, but here it is completely appropriate with the zaniness that has taken place during this romp to South Florida.
Film Rating: 8/10
Supplements:
James Harvey – This is a critical analysis from Harvey, a film scholar. He talks about Sturges origins with screenplays and B movies, and how he made his way up the ladder with Paramount.
Sturges came from a rich upbringing, which explains why he focuses often on the upper classes and lampoons them with such precision. His adopted was Solomon Sturges, who had acquired a great deal of wealth in the stock market. Despite not being his real father, the two were very close.
As I noted above, Struges’ comedy was too far out to be appreciated by the mainstream. The Lady Eve was a big hit, but Palm Beach and Sullivan were failures. Despite another big hit with The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek (which I would LOVE to see on Criterion someday), Paramount let him go and aside from a couple successes, his career mostly went on the downturn. He became a favorite of French critics like Andre Bazin, who liked him and hated Capra, so his work has been rediscovered and celebrated in part thanks to them.
Bill Hader – This is an odd choice for an interview since Hader is not necessarily a film scholar, but he clearly has an appreciation for classic comedy and he is unquestionably an authority on modern comedy. He spends most of his interview with a Sturges script book, just reading some of the dialog and cracking up at it. The words read as funny as they sound spoken, and sometimes even funnier. He remarks that a number of comics and filmmakers were inspired by Sturges.
Safeguarding Military Information, 1941 – This is a short propaganda film made during the war to prevent people from unwittingly spilling military secrets in public and possibly compromising the safety of our military. It plays out as one would expect from a propaganda film, whether American, German or Russian. One segment had Eddie Bracken, who would star in two major 1944 features for Sturges, the aforementioned Morgan’s Creek and Hail the Conquering Hero.
Criterion Rating: 7.5/10
The Bitter Tears of Petra Von Kant, Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1972
Like many of Fassbinder’s films, he features strong, female characters in the leads and supporting parts. In this film, the cast is predominately female, and is among the most feminine of his works. That does not mean that it is feminist. One could argue that it has some feminist attributes, and it can also be seen as anti-feminist since the portrayals of women are mostly negative. It can also be seen as a class contrast, with Petra (Margit Carstensen) representing the bourgeois, Karin (Hanna Schygulla) representing the poor and uncultured, and Marlene (Irm Hermann) representing the working class.
The entire movie takes place in Petra’s apartment. Often films that are shot in a single location can be drab and tiresome, but there is enough visual ingenuity, both with the camerawork and the mise-en-scene, to keep every scene fresh. The performances are all tremendous, particularly Carstensen who was working with a great deal of dialog.
Petra represents the horror that success can have on a person. She is conceited, brazen, thin-skinned, and she asserts her power over defenseless people. Marlene, her assistant, is the object of many cruel and disdainful eruptions. Petra thinks of her as less of a person. At one point she tells Karin that “Marlene has been with me for three years. She sees everything, hears everything. Pay no attention to her.” Petra does not bother to hide her secrets from the help, but we will find out later that this person is not the invisible bystander that Petra considers her.
Petra and Karin
Petra’s cousin (Sidonie von Grasenabb) introduces Karin as a young model. Petra takes to her, seeing someone with a beauty that she can possibly mentor and control. Petra’s riches come from a life of fashion, and she could make a person’s career. She asks Karin to visit her later, and the girl timidly agrees, knowing that this could lead to a brighter future. When she shows up later, she is dressed to the nines, with a gold outfit and a wide collar around her neck. Petra is dressed in an ostentatious and grossly flamboyant outfit with circular beads decorating her breasts. The outrageous wardrobes are contrasted with the Classical European paintings on the walls. Some of these include nakedness, male and female, and they are prominently placed within the frame. Fassbinder was not bashful with nudity, whether his own or others, and he clearly used these paintings as a way of injecting an uncomfortable sexuality into the mise-en-scene.
Petra is intrigued by the young lady, although seems more interested in bragging about her own experiences. There are mirrors everywhere, and as she talks, she narcissistically watches herself. It is when Karin reveals a horrible tragedy that happened to her parents when Petra really takes to her. It is at this vulnerable moment that Petra sees Karin as someone fragile that she can control, who can fill the void of loneliness that is consuming her. Karin becomes a kept woman and a romantic relationship begins between the two.
In the second act, the tables have turned. Karin is the one who has the power. Petra is helpless to get her affection, much less her attention. Karin cannot be bothered, reads a magazine on the bed and demands that Petra get her a drink. She is playing the role of the spoiled child, and Petra is trapped as her enabler. Earlier she had bragged that “everyone is replaceable,” referring to Karin and Marlene, but to her, that is a flat out lie. She is psychologically tethered to both of them.
Marlene, ever so silent.
Marlene is the anchor for this movie, beautifully played by Irm Hermann in a mostly silent role. She doesn’t need to speak to convey her thoughts. She says plenty with her face, as she reacts to what is happening in Petra’s life, which often does not have anything to do with her. Some of the best shots in the film are when Petra and Karin or whomever are talking about some nonsense, and the camera pans over to Marlene and zooms in for a close-up, showing her utter and absolute disdain for her employer. Her hatred is obvious to the audience, but Petra is oblivious. She is just another plaything, like the dolls and mannequins that she collects. Only this one does her bidding without ever questioning her authority. At least not yet.
Despair
When she is left. Petra is completely isolated and in despair. She sits on a white carpet that looks like a cloud. The European, nude painting is still behind her in the frame, fully exposed just like her heartbreak. Has she died and gone to heaven? The shot implies as much, and a major part of her, her power, has died. She feels completely abandoned, but there are still some people remaining in her life. Her daughter Gabby appears with family, and Petra’s behavior is similar to what we’ve seen with Karin and Marlene. She is out of control, lashes out at one moment and tries to apologize the next. She calls them fake, “dishonest little rats.” After her fury passes, she is told that she will pay for her actions, that there will be consequences. There are. I will not reveal them in this write-up, but I will say that Petra’s conclusion is in the typical Fassbinder style.
Film Rating: 8.5/10
Supplements:
Outsiders: – These are four interviews with actresses from the film: Margit Carstensen (Petra), Hanna Schygulla (Karin), Eva Mattes (Gabby), and Katrin Schaake (cousin Sidonie). This 2014 segment edits their answers together so that they stay within the topic of the film. Most of them felt like outsiders to Fassbinder’s stable of actors, which is strange because they were all cast in many of his films, especially Carstensen, who played many lead roles. Most talked about how they were treated on the set by Fassbinder, and how he would play games to create conflict amongst each other. Some were reluctant to reveal much, while others are more forthcoming. The overall sentiment was that Fassbinder was difficult to work with. The only exception was Eva. He was gentle with her and did not play the same sort of games as with the other actors.
What is surprising is the production time. The filming was lightning fast, 10 days. Carsternsen had an easier time because she had played the same role in the theater and knew the lines, but the other actresses had difficulties. As they put it, Margit was perfect everytime.
The story was autobiographical based on a relationship of Fassbinder’s. It is interesting that he chose women to play the roles, but he often did portray his own life through women, which may have been an element of his homosexuality. Fassbinder felt that whoever had the strength in the relationship loved the person less, and that was what he was trying to convey with this film.
Michael Ballhaus – Ballhause was the Director of Photography. This was his third film with Fassbinder, who had dismissed him as a TV DP. In the other segment, the other ladies had very kind things to say about Ballhause, although those were probably contrasted with Fassbinder. He said that this project was challenging because they shot quickly and he had one room to work with. He had to figure out good angles to keep it interesting, which I would say he accomplished. Fassbinder told him that he was a big fan of Douglas Sirk and wanted this to look as visually rich as a Hollywood film. They would argue and at one point there was a blow-up. At one time Ballhause said “I am not a machine. If you don’t like it, then hire someone else.” They eventually made up, and worked on many other projects together. Ballhause liked working with Fassbinder because he was a good visual director.
Beautiful Destruction – This is a feature from Jane Shattuc, author of Television, Tabloids, and Tears: Fassbinder and Popular Culture.. She talks about how dark his work was, although it was beautiful visually. He had a bleak portrait of humanity, and that was reflected in his work.
Fassbinder started with a theatre troupe, and as we know, he maintained that collective for much of his film career. Many of the issues playing out in film were also part of their personal lives.
She says that the mise-en-scene was very important in this movie. The changing in appearances of Petra reflects how she feels about herself. She starts in the operatic dress, then to red hair, and finally in a white nightgown, showing her true humanity. The set, clothing and shooting change as the character changes.
Role Play: Women on Fassbinder – This was 1992 German TV documentary with many of the women who worked on his films. This was quite a bleak documentary. It was far from a puff piece. The actresses were frank about how far on the edge they were during the Fassbinder age, and how cruel he was to them. Yet he was also successful and gave them continual work if they could endure it. For the most part, he was not friendly with actors save for rare occasions. When Margit Carstensen speaks of her history with Fassbinder, her tone and look are as if she is revealing a traumatic and monumental time of her life. This is not the type of remembrance you’ll see of many directors.
The people that worked for Werner often thought about leaving and starting fresh somewhere. Margit attempted this and distanced herself from his inner circle, which made him angry. She tried to leave one time during the filming of Chinese Roulette and said: “You leave and you’re out of the film.”
Even though he was difficult, he portrayed women beautifully, and most of the women conclude that it was due to his effeminate nature and homosexuality, although none of them really understood it or him. We know that he was bi-sexual and would engage in relationships with actresses, such as Irm, but even she was confused during the relationship.
They all say he was a brilliant filmmaker. He had the capacity to love, but his addiction and dependence got in his way. He had a series of disappointing relationships. Often he would test his lovers and be disappointed. His standard of love was too high for anyone to really achieve. In many ways this tale is a tragedy because Fassbinder, however brilliant, was tortured, never found love, and died due to indulging too much.
Criterion Rating: 9/10
Les Blank, Always for Pleasure, Part Three.
GARLIC IS AS GOOD AS TEN MOTHERS, LES BLANK, 1980
In my opinion, the best filmmakers are the ones that continually challenge themselves. Too many get comfortable making a variation of the same film repeatedly, with diminishing results. While Les Blank’s early documentaries that centered on Louisiana and Texas were brilliant, he was wise to move along and venture into new territory. While the results were not always as good as his best early work, he had a way of picking fascinating and unusual topics.
He ventured north and west for his take on … you guessed it — garlic. He uses song to set the stage for this wacky documentary, with the lyrics “Garlic is the Spice of Life … Add Garlic in your Life.”
The subject is northern California, where there was a burgeoning garlic culture. He uses a similar format as his Louisiana films, most notably Always for Pleasure, to explore the culture, geography and finally the process of producing garlic.
My primary quibble here with Garlic Is as Good as Ten Mothers is that it focuses a little too much on the culture and less on the production, which unfortunately is reduced to a few minutes toward the end of the movie. Blank could have interspersed images of the production as he did so successfully with his earlier cultural and musical films. He has an eye for making something ordinary like food production look extraordinary. Instead, the culture dominated much of the early part of the feature. He shows people like the gentleman in the image above, people who think that garlic has spiritual or aphrodisiac powers. One guy even mutters that if you eat enough garlic, you’ll feel high. Some of the culture elements seem to be exaggerated to make them seem as grandiose as Mardi Gras culture in New Orleans, which of course is ridiculous.
He struck the appropriate balance with food. Les Blank just cannot fail at showing great food and making us hungry, even if it’s for the so-called ‘Stinking Rose.’ Some of the finest scenes were when people were preparing and cooking dishes with garlic. The scenes of Bastille Day at Chez Panisse restaurant are some of the best in the movie, where chef Alice Waters dedicates the day garlic-themed dishes. Near the end she makes a delectable version of chicken pot pie packed with vegetables and, of course, loads of garlic.
This was a good attempt for Les Blank to relocate his style on a fringe, niche culture. It was my least favorite of the set so far, but it had potential, and I can tell from a later film that it was useful as a stepping stone.
Film Rating: 5.5/10
Supplements
For the Love of Garlic: – This was a 2014 re-visitation with the people involved, including Alice Waters and Maureen Gosling. They talk about how much Les Blank loved garlic. He would keep it in his pocket and shave it into his food. Waters reveals that after seeing the film later, she realized that she was not cooking the chicken dish correctly. Gosling talks about how they inserted the cultural content before the production deliberately, which I think was a mistake. Waters reveals that Les ran through a theater preview with sautéed garlic so it would have smell, which we know he also did with Always with Pleasure. Waters likes to do the same with her restaurant.
Remembering Les – This is a conversation with Alice Waters and Tom Luddy, who reflected on their decades long friendship with Blank. Luddy saw his brilliance in filmmaking with the first few films, while Waters saw how special he was at showing the cooking of food. Waters does most of the talking here and shares some interesting anecdotes, like one time where Les took her out onto the bayou on a boat and randomly jumped in the water.
SPROUT WINGS AND FLY, LES BLANK, 1983
The Blue Ridge area is special to me, as I’ve spent many a day up in those gorgeous and tranquil hills, escaping from the hustle and bustle from city life, if only for a moment. For that reason, I thought that my impression of Blank’s foray to the Carolinas would be colored by my bias, but the opposite turned out to be the case.
Tommy Jarrell is as country as they come. He was born in 1901 on the Carolina slope of the Blue Ridge. He lives near the small town of Toast, NC, which is not far from the larger (but still not very big) city of Mount Airy, NC. He is a fiddler, but not just any other fiddley. The old man can play with a vigor of a man 30-40 years younger, and his talents are continually on display in this documentary. He begins with the title song “Sprout Wings and Fly” and the film ends with him playing with impassioned fury at a southern musical festival.
Tommy is a character, as is to be expected from a Blank documentary. He is as southern as they come, with an accent so thick that at times his words are unintelligible. Subtitles are a must. He tells various stories, some jubilant and fun, others bleak and about loss, whether friends, relatives, or others. Some of the stories do not make as much sense as others, but listening to them being told is half the enjoyment.
Drinking is prominent in this feature. As one person says, they had good mountain water, so they made good whiskey, and that helped them make good music. They make their own whiskey and drink their fair share of it, although Tommy never does appear inebriated, although I expect he was much of the time.
Like most of the Les Blank films that preceded “Wings,” there is food, albeit not as much. Their meal consists of meat, chicken, potatoes, cornbread, basically standard southern fare.
While the subject is just as compelling as most in Blank’s films, I was left slightly disappointed. Perhaps it is because he showed so much ordinary scenery in the Louisiana and Texas films and made it look extraordinary. Conversely, the Blue Ridge scenery, which I know is stunning from my own adventures, is limited in appearance. He shows his share of flower, vegetation, and water streams, but there are not many mountain shots. Toast is in a valley, which may be why, but I feel that they should have captured the surrounding, majestic landscape that the people lived under.
The ending credits are a lot of fun. Someone asks Tommy “who is making the film?” and he points to Les, who he says is from California. He then points to Alice who he says “is at the head of this thing.” He is then asked if they got a grant. Yes, he responds, but he doesn’t ask where the government money comes from. As he is talking about it, they show the list of donors that made the picture possible.
Film Rating: 6.5
Supplements:
My Own Fiddle: My Visit With Tommy Jarrell, 1994 – This is a short documentary that was filmed at the same time as Sprout. It gives more background information on Tommy’s life, including many older pictures. He talks about his upbringing and his large family. Most is shot in the same style as the main feature, with music, flowers, and other nature shots. One of the better shots was one that shows a bee pollinating a flower. It ends with someone in a museum giving him a Stradivarius violin and asking him to play it. He manages a good tune, but says that it is not worth the price. Meanwhile, Blank juxtaposes European images from the museum with this distinctly southern music. Film Rating: 7.5/10
Julie: Old Time Tales of the Blue Ridge, 1991 – This is another short, companion feature, although the subject is Tommy’s sister Julie. Her brother’s music is the background as she talks about her life. She was born in 1902, married in 1921, and had 10 children. She sings acapella, mostly ballads and love songs. She talks about her life working in the tobacco factory, and much of the documentary is about her singing. She has a good voice for her age, and she is an interesting subject, but her story does not pack the same punch as Tommy’s. Film Rating: 5/10
An Elemental Approach – Cece Conway and Alice Jarrard were co-directors of this film. They loved Tommy Jarrell and the project was their idea. They raised money and convinced Blank to do it, but reluctantly. He took longer to edit the film. This seems apparent to me having seen it. While it is a good documentary, it does not have the characteristic Les Blank Passion. The ladies say they intentionally started the story with subjects of death, then water, and finally earth. They say that Tommy drank a lot and didn’t eat well, but worked hard, and that is why they thought he was so healthy at that age.
IN HEAVEN THERE IS NO BEER, LES BLANK, 1984
I mentioned above how Les Blank had successfully transplanted his Louisiana and Texas formula to other unique subjects. His documentary about polka is the finest example thus far, and rivals the best of his Louisiana documentaries. Unlike with garlic, which is more of a fringe counterculture, he finds a burgeoning, popular polka in northeastern Polish-Americans. Like with the Mardi Gras participants, the polka fans also drink, dance, and enjoy themselves. The film starts with the title song, “In Heaven There is No Beer,“ which follows with the lyrics “That’s why we drink it here. And when we’re all gone from here, our friends will be drinking all the beer.” Yes, they drink a lot of beer.
Why polka? Everyone interviewed for the film gave nearly the same response. They did it to unwind, to relax, and escape from the grind of their daily lives. Many were blue-collar, but there were also white-collar professionals, including doctors. On the polka dance floor they would truly let go. Some would go further than others. One shot shows an elderly man dancing alone on a beach in his underwear, while there is another couple that does an acrobatic dance where they kick their legs out in unison.
The film covers all facets of polka culture, including the various artists that had a following like Frank Yancovik (not related to Weird Al) and Little Wally, both of whom were polka recording artists. They cover multiple locations, including Buffalo, Connecticut, Milwaukee, and other places that have prominent Polish populations. Even if things vary somewhat from city to city, the vibe is the same. They loved the upbeat music, loved to dance, and loved to drink. Even if the drinking was minimized in the film’s message, there were lots of shots of people lining up at beer stands. Even if it was not on screen, and many times it was, beer was omnipresent in the film.
Much of the film focused on Polkabration, an annual festival on Ocean Beach in CT. Dick Pillar, a polka musician, started it at first as a weekend of performing and dancing. It grew up to a week, and then they started adding days because people would come early. They settled at 11 days, which was the longest that the band could feasibly play. People would come from all over the country to enjoy in the festivities, and it still exists today. A good portion of the polka dancing shots came from the beach festival.
In addition to just showing people enjoying themselves, they give the background and origins. Polka is an international genre. It is not necessarily German, Czech, Polish, French, but it is from all of these areas, and all have their own different versions of polkas. The Polish version has become popularized in America, and subsequently has achieved a large following overseas. European polka had been fading, mostly due to the political turmoil of the 20th century. The Polish had been occupied for 120 years and their culture subdued, but when away from the political constraints and expression is allowed, they were and are prideful and jubilant. Polka is one of the major expressions of this culture (and the easiest to highlight on film), but is one of many. Of course there is food like sausage or “keeshka”, Polish chicken, and other dishes that Les Blank is happy to give plenty of attention.
Like with Always with Pleasure, Les Blank truly captures and a distinct and small, but passionately and enthusiastically celebrated culture. Even though I am not a polka fan, as I am not a zydeco fan, through Blank’s representation, I found myself toe-tapping and understanding why people dedicate themselves so zealously.
Film Rating: 9/10
Supplements:
Polka Happiness – This is a 2014 interview with Chris Simon who worked with Blank. The idea for the film came entirely from Les, which I think shows compared with Sprout Wings and Fly. Simon took a class on polka and her instructor appeared in the movie, alongside many other interesting people that they would pull out of the crowd. One example was the older dancer, and to the opposite extreme was a young girl who wanted to carry a boom box blasting polka image. Now there’s an image for you.
Criterion: L’Avventura, Michelangelo Antonioni, 1960
My first viewing of L’Avventura was eons ago. It was my first Antonioni, and possibly my first Italian classic film. It is often cited as one of the greatest films ever made, a major turning point in Italian art-cinema, and by extension, world cinema. I remember that my first impression was not altogether rosy. It wasn’t that I disliked the movie, just that I did not understand why it belonged on such a pedestal. In the years since, I’ve revisited on several occasions and it has had a different affect on me. Many foreign art films tend to be more meaningful on multiple viewings, especially those that are selected as part of the Criterion Collection, but L’Avventura is even more impactful because of how it deconstructs the classic narrative plot structure.
I doubt that anyone reading this review has not seen the movie, so please be warned that I am going to spoil major plot points including the ending. It would be impossible to discuss this film openly without talking about the mystery of Anna, so please be warned not to continue reading if you would like to avoid spoilers.
Anna shows early on that she is an apathetic lover. She is not enamored with her lover, Sandro, yet reluctantly and impulsively makes love to him when they first meet. They go away on vacation, and her body language and actions are that of discomfort. When their group reaches a remote island off the coast of Sicily, she goes missing. We do not know whether she deliberately leaves, kills herself, hides, or what happens to her (although there are a couple of hints that are revealed on multiple viewings). This is unusual because her going missing and the initial search on the island occupies an entire third of the film. For the time, it was revolutionary for the narrative to leave the focal plot point so quickly and never revisit it.
That is why it is essential repeat viewing, because you have to understand that Anna is never found to get a proper reading of the film. That is why I was underwhelmed on that first viewing because I kept waiting for them to resolve the Anna situation, and it felt unsatisfying when they didn’t.
Like most of Antonioni’s best work, L’Avventura is a quiet, visual and challenging film. He makes the most of his landscapes, long shots, and juxtapositions of natural scenery versus humanity and technology. The images are startling in their beauty, and that includes the actors, most notably Monica Vitti, whose expressions he uses to tell the story as much as the dialog. The location shots are fantastic, from the abandoned village near Nota to the final shot with Mount Aetna in the background. Antonioni has been described as a painter, and just about every shot can be paused and enjoyed for its visual splendor. That is even more apparent with this 4k Criterion restoration. Antonioni likes to let the image linger and wash over the viewer, which is all the more pleasing with this home video release as it likely was on 35mm back in the 1960s.
Claudia (Monica Vitti) and Sandro (Gabriele Ferzetti) may be earnestly seeking out and following clues to find Anna’s whereabouts, but as time goes on, they seem less interested in discovering the missing friend and lover. It becomes more about them and their growing relationship. Towards the end, Claudia reveals that she no longer really wants to find Anna, that her old friend’s return would ruin how the situation has evolved. Compared with the resolute Anna, Claudia is needy and confused. She practically begs Sandro to confess his love for her, which he does non-committedly.
Sandro is a flawed womanizer who is not ready to settle down. If Anna had not gone missing, the relationship would have likely been over in the same time it took Claudia and Sandro to develop theirs. He is lost when it comes to love and relationships, uncomfortable, and always has his eyes out for something more promising. That is evident not just by the fact that he is later caught cheating, but that he pursues Claudia during the search for his missing lover in the first place. He is the more forceful in developing this relationship while Claudia is more reluctant, at least at first. When she commits, he strays and eventually breaks her trust.
Morality is at the heart of the film. Most of the characters are immoral and lust crazed. This includes Claudia and Sandro, but also the supporting characters. Guilia and Corrado are terrific examples of this. They exchange barbs during the island vacation, even after Anna goes missing, showing that their marriage is fractured. Guilia is tempted by a youngster and succumbs to his advances, obstinately telling Claudia to leave and tell Corrado that he can find her there. It is as if she is wishing to be found and have their marriage ended. These two characters represent the future of relationships, painting a bleak picture, and helping Claudia reach a level of understanding. If things worked out between Claudia and Sandro, this could be their future.
This movie is easily compared to La Dolce Vita. Fellini’s film was also a monumental and influential piece of art-house Italian cinema. In addition to being released in the same year it shares other similarities with L’Avventura. Fellini strives to contrast the modern and the old world, and uses the framework laid down by Italian Neorealism as his canvas, only he approaches his subject with a distinctively different style than Antonioni. His lead male is also a flawed and immoral person, only his film is from the male’s perspective whereas Antonioni’s is clearly through the eyes of Claudia. Both men at the end come to terms with their shortcomings albeit to different degrees. Fellini’s Marcello is all too aware of how miserable he has come, and that is why he acts out at a party. Antonioni’s final scene of L’Avventura involves a party, but the crime is quiet infidelity rather than creating a scene. It is not until he sees Claudia’s reaction and her drastic change in character that he comes to terms with his failings. When he is sitting on that park bench, sobbing in shame, Claudia touches his head in a show of part pity and part disdain. She has grown up, seen the world, and most likely has become jaded like her forgotten friend, Anna.
Film Rating: 9.5/10
Supplements:
Commentary with Gene Youngblood – This was recorded in 1989 and I had already heard it on a prior listening. Rather than listen to the entire thing, I listened during key moments, including the first third of the film, the Noti sequence, and of course the ending.
Antonioni uses his characters to form an ‘escapist sensuality’ which explains why Anna makes love to Sandro at the beginning, why Guilia accepts the advances of her young admirer, and why Sandro takes up with the young lady near the end (who was likely a prostitute).
When Claudia and Anna change clothes in the yacht, they change the place of each other. Soon, Anna will disappear and Claudia will begin the process of searching for her, taking up with Sandro and becoming Anna.
Not every scene advances the plot, which is why people initially had trouble with the film, while others appreciate this. In the scenes where nothing seems to happen, like when they are taking refuge from bad weather on the island, it contextualizes their situations.
Youngblood talks about the evolution of neorealism. Rossellini was an early pioneer of the genre, but he pushed it more towards being image-oriented in his trilogy with Ingrid Bergman. A good example is with his Journey to Italy, and you can see in that film where the transition from filmmakers like Visconti, De Sica and Rossellini transformed towards Fellini and Antonioni.
Antonioni portrays strong female characters unlike all Italian filmmakers (although I would disagree because of Rossellini’s Bergman trilogy), but still are men’s films. He concentrated on the female component, especially L’Eclisse and Red Desert, but they tend to realize they are living in a man’s world, which in essence, they were. In L’Avventura, the real adventure is Claudia’s journey towards self-knowledge.
Antonioni: Documents and Testimonials – 1966 documentary was the first to get Antonioni’s approval. He is a reserved individual and it is difficult to capture filmmaking by following the process, which is rife with problems and errors.
Grew up in Ferrara, had a bourgeois upbringing, and started his career working at writing and directing plays. He switched to documentary films and eventually features.
Lots of people talk about his early work, including Fellini who collaborated with him on The White Sheik, and had very good things to say.
L’Avventura took 7 months and bankrupted a production company (5 months filming). There were major production problems, including having the cast and crew stuck on an island for a view days. Vitti talks about her experience at Cannes. It was her first film festival, which was a different universe for her. The Cannes audience laughed at the film, hated it, and she felt terrible. By the next day, prominent people came out and stated it was the best film they’d seen at a festival.
Jack Nicholson – essays – Nicholson narrates essays from Antonioni.
1. L’Avventura: A Moral Adventure: People who try to discover his motivation spoil the film for themselves. He does not feel that director’s can or should explain film, and sometimes film cannot be understood. Despite his reservations for sharing motivations about L’Avventura, he agrees because he is sufficiently removed from the project.
Morality is the key, which has changed in human history history. He explores how we go astray and away from our outdated moral conventions, and he is merely portraying our weaknesses.
2. Reflections on the Film Actor: Intelligent actors that try to understand their role can become an obstruction. They should arrive in a state of virginity. Rather than try to guide thing, they should exploit their innate intelligence to employ what the director has instructed. When that happens, the actor has the quality of a director.
3. Working with Antonioni: Jack recounts his experiences working with the master, and agrees with Michelangelo to some degree, but it is impossible to not be thinking during his films. Jack remembers Antonioni saying contradictory things than what he writes in essays. There was very little conflict on the set of The Passenger, and Antonioni even cooked for them in the evenings. Jack tells an interesting anecdote about how the cast and crew returned from lunch and accidentally forgot the director, leaving him stranded, Antonioni pulled him aside and said “Jack, I have to pretend I am furious.”
Olivier Assayas – a 2004 analysis of the film. He breaks it down in three parts.
1. The Empty Center – Can consider it a documentary on the loss of meaning. Anna diving off the boat is A pivotal moment, but not THE pivotal moment. It breaks from the conventional plot because there is nothing for us to hold onto. Anna, and by extension modernity, is the “empty center.” The narrative after the first act shifts from Anna to other characters who pretend to care about looking for her. Do we care?
2. Point Zero – Claudia ends up replacing Anna. The path that Claudia and Sandro follows is unbelievable because they end up in the middle of nowhere. Are they really looking for Anna? The church in Noto is empty and unused and can be equated with the loss of faith.
3. The Resolution – Portrays the solitude of a brand new couple. Meaning disappears. Once they are together, they begin to drift apart towards solitude. After Sandro is caught cheating and Claudia’s flight, there is an acceptance of each other.
Criterion Rating: 8.5/10
Les Blank, Always for Pleasure. Part Two.
This next trio of Les Blank documentaries fit together well. They are all about Cajun culture, with the first two about the rural and backwoods Creole population, with the boxset’s namesake documentary, Always for Pleasure, a narrative of the types of celebration that can only take place in New Orleans.
DRY WOOD, LES BLANK, 1973
Dry Wood features the Zydeco music of Clifton Chenier, although he is directly profiled in the sister film, Hot Pepper. Like with the prior documentaries, this is a meditative illustration of a mostly ignored yet fascinating culture.
Set in Mamou, Louisiana, Mardi Gras 1972, Dry Wood begins with a group of people in various, outlandish costumes, singing along to Zydeco music in Creole language. It is fitting for this trio of films, as they begin and end with celebration, albeit the latter is on a far grander scale.
In this picture, Les Blank does what he does best. He captures the character moments. The day after Mardi Gras, he shows the Catholic ceremony of people getting ash placed on their heads for Ash Wednesday. From there he shows people living their lives, whether that is a man digging ditches, catching frogs, or kids playing their own version of baseball with a cylindrically squared stick as a bat (not too dissimilar to the type of play that Mance Lipscomb reminisced about in A Well Spent Life.)
Like with many Blank films, there is not too much dialog, and there does not need to be. The first person that speaks directly to the camera and seems aware of being photographed is a gentleman talking about making his first violin, and how he used various natural items that could be found anywhere, either in the house or outside, and it worked. This was 15 minutes into the film, and Blank only features someone when they have something to say.
The latter portion is about food and entertainment, another reoccurring Blank theme. My favorite scene is an outdoor gathering at night, where a number of locals talk about the type of meat they prefer to eat, and what sort they absolutely will not eat. Their opinions are mixed on deer, armadillo and possum, but they ate whatever was being served on that evening heartily. They drank too, and that’s when the fun begins. As the night progresses, the men start dancing and then play fighting, falling down all alongside each other. These are grown men, but this is the type of roughhouse play behavior expected of most kids. It is the booze that binds them together, and they are absolutely plastered on this night, as they likely are on many nights. It speaks to Blank’s talents as a filmmaker that he was able to capture them so relaxed and in their element.
Some of Dry Wood is not for the faint of heart. The day after the men have their fun, they kill and butcher a hog, while the women prepare it. At one point they saw the snout off of the hog, and later it goes into a meat grinder to later become headcheese. A baffled youngster wonders, “is this what is in headcheese?” He doesn’t like the response, and won’t admit whether he liked it or not.
Film Rating: 8
Supplements:
A Cultural Celebration – Taylor Hackford gives another interview and talks about how culture is cuisine. It is first infused into food, and then into music. His piece is about both sister films, with Dry Wood being about the cuisine and Hot Pepper about the subsequent music. Hackford talks about how Blank was looking for the so called “golden moments” where people are captured with their guard down. One such example is the scene where the grown men are dancing around drunk, and there are many others
HOT PEPPER, LES BLANK, 1973
Blank goes back to the well with this follow-up documentary, which is a profile of Zydeco accordion musician and “King” Clifton Chenier. It begins with him playing a concert in Lafayette, Louisiana, and this is the music that scores the film. They cut back and forth between the concert and Louisiana life, like they do in Dry Wood. The great scenes are again when people are unaware or apathetic about the camera, and do their own thing. One cute scene has a girl playing by hanging around a street sign. There are other people that just walk by, minding their own business, some working on the railroad, some going about their day.
The best scenes are the landscapes captured with the Chenier music in the background. There is one sequence that shows a beautiful country sunset, followed by a dark night with the only visible object a pair of dim headlights. This is what Blank excels at, making the mundane appear magical.
Much of Chenier’s music is upbeat, but the most beautiful song, “Coming Home,” is peaceful and serene. It is a scene that Clifton wrote for his mother before she died, yet she unfortunately never was able to hear it. You can hear the emotion in his voice as the accordion slowly and poetically follows along. Blank focuses on landscape scenes for much of this somber scene and it becomes a meditation. We see sky scenes, birds flying, and a number of engrossing landscapes. It is easy to get carried away into this world.
While Hot Pepper has its moments, it is uneven and occasionally jarring, For example, it has a lady speaking frankly and randomly above her vagina parts. The major failing is with Chenier, who is not as captivating a subject as Lipscomb or Hopkins. The only time we see him away from the stage is when he is playing on the doorstep of a house, sitting with some friends, but he does not reveal much about himself or his world view. He just plays.
ALWAYS FOR PLEASURE, LES BLANK, 1978
As one subject says midway through this celebratory documentary, New Orleans is the “city that care forgot.” By that he means that is the last place in America where someone can truly be themselves be free. They are free to dance around in public, drink, sing, shake their body, chant, or do whatever they desire.
The film begins with a slow funeral march through the street. As Allen Toussaint puts it, the march to the funeral is slow and that’s when the mourning takes place. The way back is when people cut up. Life goes on, and people enjoy themselves. The band members are the main line, and they perform the somber music on the way up, and the upbeat, party music on the way back. The second line are the dancers and singers, who give their old friend a send off with spirit and revelry.
The majority of this documentary shows people partying in various ways. There are people drinking up a storm on St. Patrick’s Day, with overhead shots showing a sea of green. People laugh and sing along Bourbon Street, hooting and hollering, meandering through the street moving to the rhythm of the music.
A Les Blank documentary would not be complete without food, so he takes a break from the partying to show the staple meals of New Orleans, red beans and rice being made. One expert talks about the proper way to eat a crawfish. You shouldn’t break open the shell, but just bite off the head and squeeze the meat into your mouth.
The title cards share a bit of history. Many of these traditions originated with slaves. Initially the owners would let them have Sundays off of work to celebrate. Eventually that permission was curbed, but slaves would find ways to get outside and enjoy themselves. Mardi Gras was a free-for-all, and that was when all slaves were allowed to celebrate. Thus begun the tradition that continues today of yearlong merriment with the party of the year every May.
Always With Pleasure ends on a high point, with the wild, rousing traditions of Mardi Gras. People march in the street. He shows people with percussion instruments, singing and dancing. Some people are dressed up for the occasion, while others are dressed in regular clothes, having fun just being there and singing along. “Ooh-na-nay!” they chant as part of a call-and-response mantra as they march along.
The main attractions are the Big Chiefs, some in pink feathers, some in white, some in blue. They even show a young kid wearing an elaborate costume in white, probably having more fun than he’d ever have in his life. These are the Indians and they are serious about their Mardi Gras presentations. They make their own costumes anew every year, and destroy them afterward. They are also always trying to outdo the other tribes. In doing so, they entertain themselves and everyone around them. New Orleans, at least some of the time, is where “care truly forgot.”
Film Rating 9/10
Supplements:
Lagniappe – This is a short film of 25-minutes with additional footage that was cut out of Always for Pleasure. It begins with a street band marching through Bourbon Street to a predominately white crowd, which is contrasted with much of the main feature that showcased African-Americans. We see more of musicians, like Professor Longhair, who also appeared in the main feature, who plays the shit out of some piano. A singer and guitarist do a duet together, with racy lyrics like, “if you want to feel my thigh, you gotta go up high.” Finally, there are more shots of the Indians singing. There are never enough shots of the Indians.
Celebrating a City – Interview with Maureen Gosling, who did just about everything else on this project. During the shooting, they stayed with Michael P. Smith, who was a famous New Orleans photographer. He gave Blank a lot of ideas on where to shoot. Blank was more interested in the celebrations off the beaten path, which is probably why much of the Bourbon Street parties were cut out of the main film in favor of more time with the Indians. New Orleans has parades everywhere, and they only captured a small portion of them. On the day of Mardi Gras, they spent an exhausting 10-12 hours walking down the street with heavy equipment, getting as much coverage as possible, and practically collapsed afterward.
My favorite story was how they cooked red beans and rice for people involved with the film. They even did this for special screenings. They would cook the meal and fan the scent towards the filmgoers as they watched. Their reward was they got to eat it afterwards. Now that would be the ultimate way to experience New Orleans without actually being there.
Criterion: Jimi Plays Monterey, D.A. Pennebaker, 1986
Jimi Hendrix was like a being from another planet. He showed up, transformed culture and music as we know it, and then he quickly said goodbye, leaving us to marvel at him nearly half a century later. His performance at Monterey was still relatively early in his three album career, but it was a monumental moment. He had already been immensely popular, but this was when he truly arrived, and he frankly blew people away.
The documentary is introduced with high-speed graffiti artist painting a picture of Jimi in his element while “Can You See Me?” plays in the background. He begins with a beige base as the first layer, where we can barely make out the primary features of Jimi’s face. From there he applies other paints and more layers. When he gets to the red, he sprays it seemingly randomly, but it becomes Jimi’s trademark bandana. When he is finished with his creation, the song is over and the poster boy for late 60s guitar psychedelia is clearly fashioned on the wall.
The exposition is brief, which is fine. The core element of this documentary is the performance. John Phillips narrates the origins of Jimi’s career, including beginning playing in clubs with R&B acts, being discovered and eventually managed by The Animals, who brought him to London and changed many different worlds, including Jimi’s. As Phillips puts it, Jimi “went like a fireball once he hit London.” The Experience was formed and the rest is history.
The obligatory setlist:
Saville Theater, 1967
Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
Wild Thing
Monterey Pop Festival, 1967
Killing Floor
Foxy Lady
Like a Rolling Stone
Rock Me Baby
Hey Joe
The Wind Cries Mary
Wild Thing
People did not know what to make of him. There are alternating shots of Jimi shredding, nonchalantly playing complicated riffs on his guitar, while making unnatural sounds on his Stratocaster. There are occasional shots of the crowd. Many are simply floored. They had never seen anything like this. Others are exuberant, moving to the music.
Even when he talked, he sounded like he was from another world. “Dig, man .. “ as he liked to say, “laying around and picked up these two cats” as he points toward Mitch Mitchell and Noel Redding, his Experience bandmates.
He played covers, old blues standards, and a handful of his own hit songs. This was before he had much of a body of work, like my favorite Axis: Bold as Love, which he would record next, and Electric Ladyland in 1968. One great thing about Hendrix is that his own material was not required. Covers would be staples in his live shows until the very end, because he somehow transformed them into Jimi Hendrix songs.
He was ever the showman and pulled out all the stops during his Monterey performance. During “Hey Joe”, he plays a solo while picking with his teeth, and it sounds no different than the brilliant solos he played with his hands. Later he plays another solo with the guitar behind his head, and again, it sounds perfectly fine. He effortlessly swivels and moves his guitar around, yet never misses a beat. He actually makes such complicated playing seem easy as he is completely relaxed while playing (probably thanks to chemicals).
It is the final song where things finally go bonkers. Before he covers The Troggs’ “Wild Thing” he combines the American and English national anthems into something unrecognizable and otherworldly. He uses the tremolo and feedback to create sounds. At times they sound like the driving of a car; at others they sound like a space ship.
“Wild Thing” is a relatively simple song. Even I can play the primary riff and it would be flattering to say that I’m even a beginner. Jimi takes the simple and makes it complex, and frankly just destroys the song. Between the verses, he continues to use his weapon to make sonic and beautiful sounds. Towards the end of the song, he destroys his guitar, with it still plugged in. Even in destruction, it manages to sound like he is “playing.” Finally, it burns in flames, still transmitting sound.
Backstage before the show, he and Pete Townsend had a debate as to who would go on first. It apparently became contentious and they had to flip a coin. When it was settled, The Who would go on first, but that just inspired Jimi to push his performance to another level. That he did. As his guitar was burning on stage with the crowd going out of their collective minds, I’m sure he was thinking, “Pete, take that.”
Film Rating: 9.5/10
Supplements
Commentary with Charles Shaar Murray –
He calls Jimi’s performance one of the epochal single performances in 60s rock and roll. Jimi was great because he had roots in real rhythm and blues, whereas the Englishman just had the records. Nobody had done the type of things that Jimi did with guitars. Stratocasters were not designed with this type of playing in mind. Nobody envisioned this.
What was amazing is that this performance and the heights he reached in his career were a mere year before he had left the USA for London. He was an avid drug user, and was on acid for this performance, and that inevitably helped with his creativity and innovation with sounds and feedback.
It is interesting that he played Bob Dylan songs. Dylan was an influence in many ways. Not only did he write some of the best songs of the era, but he had no voice and still managed to sing with success. Jimi was self-conscious about his own voice, which was hardly the strong choir-like voice of R&B, and probably would not have tried singing his own material if it were not for Dylan. He paid tribute by playing the folk hero’s songs, yet like all other covers, he played them in the Jimi way. He played “Like a Rolling Stone” with the same chords that he played “Wild Thing,” and Dylan’s lead guitarist was in the audience and bore witness to how the song transformed in Hendrix’s capable hands.
His genius is that he plays so casually. On “Rock Me Baby,” he was playing keyboard, horn and guitar riffs all on his guitar, while singing. If you looked at his playing, you would barely notice. He made the complicated seem mundane. His guitar would get out of tune from his playing, but he was able to gradually bend the strings back into tune while playing. Nobody else could do that.
Additional Audio Excerpts – There is plenty of biographical information, including details about his rise to success and arriving at Monterey. This is an audio recording of 45 minutes.
Interview with Pete Townsend – “Jimi was out of his brain, on acid, and wouldn’t discuss the question” of who went on first. They were both going to introduce pyrotechnics for the first time, so part of the argument was who would do it first. Townsend’s perspective was that he didn’t feel like following Jimi because Jimi was far more talented. Jimi’s team did not see it that way, as it was more of him wanting to be the first to do something special.
Criterion: The Night Porter, Liliana Cavani, 1974
I knew going in that The Night Porter was controversial. What I didn’t expect was for it to be so perplexing, confusing and illogical. It is certainly artistic, brave and creative filmmaking, but it is also needlessly provocative, tasteless, and in some ways insulting. I’m not referring to the nude or sexual scenes, most of which are tame given the Italian cinematic landscape of the time (see any early 1970s Pasolini film for an example). What is unsettling is the way two people deal with their tragic memories of captor and prisoner.
From a filmmaking perspective, Cavani is right there with her art house Italian peers from the era. The film looks tremendous, especially in this restored Blu-Ray version. She uses crooked angles for many of her shots, which adds to the disturbing nature of the narrative as it unfolds. She shoots in a darker hue, with lots of muted blues, greys and blacks, which looks great, yet is consistent with the mood of the primary characters.
Most of the early film consists of a back-and-forth between the war years and a Vienna hotel, where one of the Nazi camp leaders, Max, works as a night porter. He encounters one of his prisoners, Lucia, who recognizes him and that triggers some terrible memories.
The flashbacks are of the harsh realities of the war. There is one scene where Germans are taking shots at kids on a swing set, disturbing because it combines a playful, jovial activity with atrocity and murder. There is another scene where a large group of prisoners are stripped naked in a room and examined by the Nazis. This is not an erotic scene, but instead one of abject humiliation, not just of Lucia, but all of her imprisoned companions.
The best and most effective scene comes about a third into the film, and is a strong example of contrasting horror with beauty. Both Max and Lucia are attending a performance of Mozart’s The Magic Flute. They see each other in the audience, and again the memories are triggered. The wonderful, uplifting music continues in the background as we see a woman’s dormitory, crowded with cots a few feet away from each other. Lucia is lying in one cot as a German soldier is raping another woman within earshot. There are other powerful flashbacks, such as an instance where her captor inserts two fingers into her mouth, simulating fellatio. She looks fearful and apprehensive as this happens, still with the joyful music playing in the background. When we see her in the audience of the performance, her face is solemn and she looks distracted. This is not a pleasant memory to re-live.
From there the plot takes a left turn into the perplexing territory that I noted above. There are a group of former Nazis that Max belongs to. Most of them are proud of their deeds, yet Max feels shame. They know of the “witness” to their crimes and agree that she needs to be eradicated. The audience would expect Max to act according to the orders of his peers, but he defies them. Soon enough we will discover why.
Charlotte Rampling gives a tremendous performance!
This is where I have problems with the film. Max and Lucia are in love. He calls her “my little girl,” confesses his love, and they rekindle their romantic and sexual relationship in the hotel. Lucia reciprocates the love, yet there are still grossly disturbing flashbacks, like her singing a song bare-breasted for the German soldiers, and receiving a severed human head as her reward. This is what is baffling. The Stockholm Syndrome is a real thing and may have happened to a certain extent during the war, but being a captor of the Nazis is not the same as Patty Hearst being captured by the SLA.
Together they rebel against the Nazi conspirators that want to silence Lucia. He wants to save her, while she does not want to expose him. They want to live together even if circumstances, society, and their wartime past makes that an impossibility. They become the prisoners, and the post-war society is their captors.
Even though this turn defies logic, I am willing to forgive it to a certain degree because Cavani is using the horrors of war and imprisonment to make an artistic point about post-war society. She goes out of her way to reveal Max’s shame for his actions, and how he is protecting his “little girl” as a sort of penance, while Lucia is masochistically re-living a version of the worst years of her life in order to support him. They suffer in the hotel room because of their isolation and inability to escape. They starve, just like the prisoners during the war were starved. This could be read as society being imprisoned in 1958 by not being able to come to terms with the terror, with some who participated in the torture quietly being prideful of their actions, and the sufferers still haunted and unable to deal with the transformed world.
In this last paragraph I am going to spoil the ending, so please stop reading here if you have not seen the film.
Lucia had no option to leave her captivity during the war. The Germans, including Max, would not allow it. In 1958, he even chains her to the room, which is unnecessary since she is committed to remaining with him. Together, they have limited options. If she goes to the authorities, Max will be discovered and punished. Max has no options that do not involve killing Lucia, since she is the witness. Their only avenue is to leave willingly, famished, with barely enough energy to move one leg in front of the other. Their ending is inevitable and tragic, as they are shot in cold blood as they try to cross the bridge. We can tell from their body language that they have accepted this ending as inevitable. In some respects, this is also Cavani attempting a form of closure. The captor and the prisoner are gone, however tragic, but life goes on. The world needs to accept what was terrible and move on.
Film Rating: 7/10
Supplements
Introduction to Women of the Resistance – Cavani introduces the film and says that The Night Porter originated with this documentary project for TV. She had watched a lot of western footage between 1940-1945, but could not get any footage from the Eastern Block. She says it is the only resistance documentary that focuses on women.
Women of the Resistance, 1965
Much of the documentary consists of archival footage and interviews with women who were directly involved. The images are not sharp, but that probably has more to do with the TV format rather than any restoration issues.
As with anything about the war, this is difficult and not altogether pleasant to watch, but it is rewarding. There are difficult issues that the women discuss, and one simply refused to discuss her own situation because it was too difficult.
The film begins with letters that imprisoned women write to their family hours before they are to die. All of the letters are powerful. One example: “Don’t think of me as being any different from any soldier on the battlefield.”
The resistance began in France and united all against the anti-fascist parties. Many were killed in the resistance, men and women. The women that participated were sometimes in service roles, but they also served as effective partisan fighters. Just like with the men, they suffered harsh treatment and persecution if they did not go along with the fascist regimes. Of the female resisters, 623 were shot while 3,000 were deported to Germany. The captured women were beaten, had their hair pulled out, starved, and suffered countless other tortures. One lady tried to make earplugs out of her clothing in order to not hear the screaming. They did not work so she tried to kill herself.
There are many topics in the documentary that would form the narrative of The Night Porter. While many of the subjects did not describe the sexual torture on camera, Cavani likely heard many such stories and chose not to broadcast them. Starvation of course becomes a theme, as Lucia and Max are unable to obtain food, not even from their neighbors, yet they live in a free society and have money. In the documentary, the ladies talk about how they were starved and many would die from hunger. One way they were tortured was by being tantalized by delicious food that they would not be allowed to eat. This comes into play in The Night Porter with the jam that Lucia eats ravenously. She sees it on the counter and cannot contain herself. The only difference is that in this captivity, she is allowed to eat what is in the room, but nothing else.
Most of the stories are tragic and painful, but there is an undercurrent of gratitude towards women who served and satisfaction from the participants. After the war, these women are remembered for their service and bravery. One person states that the women were sometimes sent in with the front lines because they simply had more courage than the men. All women that survived are proud of their experience and their service, even if the memories are filled with sorrow. Most importantly there is still a sense of duty to be watchful and wary of the potential of fascism and racism to come back. We know from history that it does not happen again, at least not anywhere close to the extent that it happened in the war.
Film Rating: 7.5/10
Liliana Cavani 2014 interview – She knew right away that she wanted Rampling or Mia Farrow to star in the lead role. She made the right choice as Rampling was brilliant. She did not want the female character to be Jewish because she did not want it to be about race or the Holocaust. Instead, Lucia was the “daughter of a socialist.” She had to make the movie as a tragedy because of the era. It was not possible to make a happy film about this topic.
She speaks about the controversy surrounding the film. Catholics came out against the film, although they were not bothered by the torture or misogyny. They were simply against the sex.
Criterion Rating: 7.5/10
Criterion: Tootsie, Sidney Pollack, 1982
At one time in my life, I spent a year living in North Hollywood. It was almost like living on a different planet. Even though the northern side of Laurel Canyon and Mulholland Drive is more suburban sprawl, it is indirectly linked with the film industry. Most of the people I worked with had some aspiration of working in Hollywood. Many had written scripts; others had dabbled into acting, while others were more interested in the technical side of things. When we went to lunch, the waiters and waitresses were gorgeous. We didn’t have to guess which ones arrived with the hope of becoming stars.
Most of the people I met didn’t make it in the business. Most won’t. It is a cutthroat industry and there simply aren’t enough jobs out there for the people who want for them. If people had dedicated their lives and failed, I could see them doing something absurd or even unscrupulous as a result of such desperation.
That sort of desperation is where Tootsie comes in. It takes place in New York, which makes it even more complicated. There is a film industry, but there is also Broadway and television work, and ultimately fewer high paying jobs for a full-time actor. In the case of Michael Dorsey, he was brought up as a New York “actor’s actor.” He had undeniable credibility and some ambition, but was suffering because of his inability to make compromises. When the truth hits him, when he hits the bottom of his career, he arrives at the ultimate compromise and both a comical and absurd way of “selling out.” He becomes a woman.
Even though Tootsie is a mainstream comedy with a ridiculous premise, it touches on a number of realities. The fact that actors face such an uphill battle when it comes to career choice is a minor reality. It is more the reality of gender roles and inequality that drives this movie and is the source of the comedy. It also speaks to the reality of the times. It came out on the heels of the women’s liberation movement. Society had progressed by that time and there was more equality in the workplace, but it was (and to a certain degree still is) a man’s world – and that’s not only in the entertainment industry. Tootsie turns the idea of inequality on its head. It is the man that has to change gender roles in order to further his stagnating career. As a woman, he has a sense of security.
Tootsie could not be made today, at least not in the way it was made in the 1980s. In some ways it would be too tame today, since transsexualism is becoming more commonplace. As I write this, a show about a transsexual-themed show just won a Golden Globe award. We also live in a more politically correct world. The idea of someone being objectified is not as prevalent today thanks to countless sexual harassment lawsuits. It probably does happen, but a boss would have a hard time getting away with calling a female employee Tootsie, pinching her bottom, or placing her in a situation where she has to kiss someone against her will. Things are different today. While Tootsie was an effective comedy in the 80s, it is funny today in a nostalgic and dated sense. It is like we are watching an older world being poked and prodded.
In some ways, Tootsie is an anti-feminist movie. Dorsey is a scoundrel of a man, someone who will use the same line on three women at a party, and will use privileged information under the guise of Dorothy to try to get a woman into the sack. He is morally weak, and the fact that he uses womanhood to jumpstart his career is in itself chauvinistic. He is depriving other capable women from the same opportunity, one of which is a friend of his who he casually sleeps with while he longs for another woman.
The character arc of Dorsey makes him become feminist to a certain degree, at least as much as someone from his beginning mindset could in the early 1980s. He realizes that women have challenges and that not everything is a bed of roses. They are objectified, ridiculed, and they are not expected to retaliate. He gives advice to Julie (Jessica Lange) to stand up to her ill-behaved boyfriend (whose actions aren’t dissimilar from Dorsey’s), yet she fails to stand up for herself. Julie doesn’t have a backbone, yet Sandy (Teri Garr) has just as forceful a personality as Dorsey, but she is lied to, cheated on, and treated with complete disrespect.
As a film, Tootsie is decent. The filmmaking is not particularly inspired and they rely a great deal on montages. The soundtrack, most notably the annoyingly catchy “It Might Be You” song is also dated. It is elevated by a brave gender-bending performance from Dustin Hoffman, some terrific improvising from Bill Murray, and a witty script.
Film Rating: 6.5/10
Supplements:
Commentary: This one took place in 1991 with Sidney Pollock for the original laserdisc. This was in the infancy of audio commentaries and it shows, although we learn some new and interesting things about the production.
The script had believability problems from the beginning. They had to establish that Dorsey had the chops to pull off acting as a woman. They spent the beginning of the movie and the first of many montages as exposition to establish his credibility as an actor.
The first shot of Hoffman as Tootsie was a risk because it is a jump in time. They had some logical problems because they did not show expositional shots of the mental and physical process of his deciding to become a woman. He simply appears in costume. Later they would show a montage with him doing the makeup and transitioning from a man to a woman. I think it was more effective the way Pollock shot it. It is a great, abrupt and funny entrance for Dorothy Michaels.
Interviews:
Dustin Hoffman – He was self-critical. He was fighting with Pollock on the set. One thing he wanted was a more farcical scene in the bedroom with Lange, but there were many other fights. He talks about how people generally get casts as character actors unless they are lucky enough to get famous. The Graduate got some reviews that said Dustin was ugly. He says that what defines a good piece of work is it doesn’t date. He feels The Graduate and Tootsie do not date. I agree with the former, but not the latter.
Phil Rosenthal, Everyone Loves Raymond creator – The “guy in a dress” is oldest gag in world, going back to Ancient Greece, but Tootsie works because he sets up the scenario in a modern world that a man would go to that length. Tootsie is a sitcom, believable people in incredible situations. They chose a soap opera because it is believable that an actor can get that role, can get stuck in that role, and can have a live, televised scenario. He says the movie is not a lesson in feminism, but Dorsey becoming a better man.
Dorothy Michaels and Gene Shalit – This was a silly and unused interview from the movie. It invents a theatrical background for Dorothy, who has mixed feelings about being in a soap but has to make some money. “Do you feel that you are Emily?” “I feel that I am Dorothy Michaels playing that part.” She even asks Shalit out.
The Making of Tootsie, 2002 –It shows Pollock & Hoffman fighting about the creative elements, which Dustin alludes to in his interview. They both acknowledge that the fighting was productive. Pollock talks about how stressful the business can be. This was his 13th film and they get harder and create more anxiety.
A Better Man: The Making of Tootsie, 2007 – This is a longer documentary and uses much of the footage from 2002. The idea began with a story of a tennis player that was unranked and then changed into a woman and became ranked. Murray stated the backbone of the movie: “about someone who becomes a better man by imitating a woman.” That premise was what got Pollock to do the movie.
Pollock did not want to act in the film, and he even talks about how difficult it was in the commentary. Dustin really wanted him in the part. He sent Pollock daily roses to convince him to act: “Please be my agent” – signed Dorothy.
Development delays eliminated the rehearsal time and caused some problems on set. This may have benefited the film as there were lots of exchanged ideas on set, some of which created animosity between Pollock and Hoffman, but sometimes they would laugh too.
Lange was not a comedic actress and did not have the capability of playing comedic. According to Garr, Lange simply wasn’t funny. So she played it straight and it worked. Bill Murray saved for last three weeks of shooting because “they wanted something in the can” first. Murray’s behavior was unpredictable, and at point on set he thrashed his room.
Deleted scenes – Like with most deleted scenes, you can understand why they were cut. The best scene here was when Sandy (Garr) intrudes on Hoffman and he plays sick. He uses oven mitts to cover his nail polish and she finds a garter that he cannot explain.
Wardrobe / Makeup tests – These were for Hal Ashby, who was initially going to direct. This test had Hoffman wearing a nurses uniform and speaking in character, but without the voice he would use in the film. There was also silent footage of him walking in costume.
Criterion Rating: 7/10
Criterion: Safe, Todd Haynes, 1995
Safe is not your everyday 90s independent film. About the only thing it has in common with the most celebrated films from the era is the miniscule budget. That is not meant as a slight against what was an innovative film movement, but merely a way of setting Todd Haynes’ project apart. It is the outlier of the movement, and like many outliers before it, has come to be recognized over time.
Let’s face it, Safe is bleak. It is about the degradation of everything in a human being’s life. Carol goes from a materialistic housewife, albeit an unhappy one, to a state of constant suffering that necessitates a rejection of the modern world. We feel for Carol with every cough, every sneeze, and especially every time she vomits.
However depressing, it is also a beautiful world. We can thank Todd Haynes and Alex Nepomniaschy for creating such a visually stunning world without spending much money. Haynes’ shot construction and Nepomniaschy’s lighting complement each other. Haynes likes to fill the shot with a lot of empty space, which gives a good DP plenty of room to light in a way that draws our attention to the focal point of the scene. One such example is when Carol frantically pulls into a parking garage in the midst of a couching fit. The sequence ends with a long shot of her car in the garage. We hear her coughing, but all we see is the car, alone and detached in the distance. The lighting does not draw attention to itself because it creates the illusion of the unflattering and dull light of a parking garage, but in this sequence, it captures a visual beauty that portrays a sickness.
Living room scene
Because of budget restraints, Haynes uses a lot of long takes, but that really works for this type of film. Another remarkably framed scene is early on in the house. The scene begins with a long shot of the living room. Carol is on the phone in a tiny corner of the frame, yet it is dominated by the ostentatious display of their interior decorating. The point Haynes is making is that Carol is consumed by the materialism of this world of the 20th century. As the shot continues, she moves closer to the camera, which tracks slowly backward outside of the room to reveal a doorframe. Carol makes her way to the door and when the shot ends, she is framed inside it as if she is a woman in a box. The film language highlights the central theme, and foreshadows how the plot will unravel.
Safe is one of those films that you can pause at just about any shot and find the still image visually striking. In that sense, it reminds me of an Orson Welles film (not that I am comparing these two filmmakers), because his movies also had the quality of working as still images. Not too many of Haynes’ 90s contemporaries have that same aesthetic. Filmmakers like Tarantino, Sayles, Soderberg and others that found independent success in the early 90s were more concerned with creating a mood, often one of grittiness, and were not consumed by visual imagery. Those that would come later in the decade, like Paul Thomas Anderson and Wes Anderson were more interested in framing and shot construction, and were very likely inspired by Haynes’ Safe
It is no secret that the message of the movie is that of AIDs. The autoimmune disorder of Carol being ‘allergic’ to the 20th century is simply a façade for the real illness that was permeating the world of the filmmakers. This message is clear from watching it more than once, and Haynes and Vachon speak of their intent openly. They wanted to make a film about AIDs. In case there’s any doubt, it is erased by Carol’s final image where she clearly has Kaposi’s sarcoma on her forehead.
In hindsight, the AIDs epidemic is compelling. We live in an era where the disease is still not cured, but at least is in control. People are not dying from it like they were in the 1980s, at least not in this country. I could discuss this film and talk about nothing other than AIDs, but I’m going to pass on that temptation. It has been discussed plenty enough already, and I think there is more to reveal behind even the AIDs reading of the film, much of which Haynes intended even if he did not say so explicitly.
A bulletin board advertisement asks: “Are you allergic to the 20th century?” This is the turning point of the movie. Previously Carol has been mostly in denial about her illness, even if it is clear from her symptoms that it exists, regardless what her doctor says. When she reads this ad, it is as if a light bulb is turned on in her mind. She IS allergic to the 20th century. As she further explores this program and others, that belief is reinforced. It is not just the culture of materialism and the social mores that she has trouble fitting in with, but her body is explicitly rejecting the chemicals of the modern world.
The movie transitions from inaction to action, as Carol sets herself on a course to remedy her illness. We know where that will eventually take us, but the process reveals a lot about the world in which Carol, Haynes, Vachon, and Julianne Moore lived.
Eventually she lands in a retreat, which resembles a 12-step program facility. If you’ve known anyone in the program, you will know that it can work to curb addiction, but it also has a rhetoric and jargon that goes along with it. There is one scene where Carol is speaking with her friend Linda in a café. Previously in the movie, she was pensive and nervous when speaking in public, even if it was just with a close friend. Now she has a script to read from. She has bought into the program and is one of its strongest advocates. In this sense, her anti-chemical refuge resembles a cult. This is her Jonestown (without the Kool Aid).
Dr. Dunning
Dr. Dunning is the Wrenwood program leader, and he is quite the curious figure. He seems like a charming enough person. He speaks well and proves to be a good leader. Is he a good person? That’s not so clear. When he is not speaking to the crowd, he seems to be more concerned whether people are buying into the program, whether they are rejecting the outside world. In a candid conversation with Carol, he reveals as much. In one speech he speaks of keeping one’s mind open, and then later, he tells his people to shut it tight. He even goes so far as to say that he has stopped reading the news or watching television because he cannot bear to see what is happening to the world.
This transition in his message can parallel many totalitarian leaders. While Haynes is using AIDs and other autoimmune disorders as his main thrust, he is rejecting the groupthink that encompassed a lot of social movements during the day. To a lesser extent, this can be construed as rehabilitation programs, but I think the ultimate recipient of the scorn, and the one that he would not admit to, is Scientology. There are even many references to becoming ‘clear’ of chemicals, which is the essence of the Scientology message. During the 1990s when this movie was put together, the church was not as powerful in Hollywood as it was now. John Travolta and Tom Cruise had not yet signed on, but it did have a strong presence. And it was not the only type of post-modern, trendy social movement. There were many like it. Haynes is warning us not to blindly trust demagogues who would suggest that we close our eyes and shut out the world.
Julianne Moore
Of course I cannot talk about this movie without discussing Julianne Moore, in what was unequivocally her breakout performance. Today we know her as one of the top actresses of her generation, but back then, she was an up-and-comer that had just had her start working with artistic auteurs in Short Cuts. Moore has had quite a career, and has given two of her best performances to Todd Haynes (the other is Far From Heaven, which I would LOVE to see on Criterion). In my opinion, this is the best performance of her career. Her great acting is especially on display when she is acting sick, but I found her strongest in the first act when she is pretending not to be sick for fear of social or marital ostracization. Her face is often expressionless with a hint of fear, her speech soft and nervous. She seems to be on the brink of falling apart at any moment, yet somehow she manages to hold it in. That makes the times where she does break down even more powerful. Even with Haynes’ remarkable direction, it is hard to imagine the staying power of Safe without Julianne Moore.
Film Rating: 8/10
Supplements:
Commentary: – This commentary was recorded with Haynes, Moore and Vachon in 2001. This was probably around the time they were filming Far From Heaven together, perhaps after it wrapped and they were in the same place at the same time. Oddly enough, Julianne had never seen the final cut of Safe before.
Haynes reveals that a lot of scenes were shot at his grandfather’s place. After all, despite how the film looks, they had to save money. The opening shot where they drive up is on way to their house. Much of Carol and Greg’s house was shot in his grandfather’s house, like the kitchen and living room. Even the furniture company is their office. Throughout the commentary, he reveals that a lot of the extras were people that worked in the film in some capacity. They simply didn’t have a lot of money to pay people for small roles.
Moore tried to speak without using vocal cords too much, so she would breath her dialog. This gave a hint of fragility and sickness, and really enhanced her performance. They shot out of order and Moore had to lose a lot of weight for the ending scenes, which is remarkable given that she is in just about every shot.
There is a scene where Moore covers her face in Xander Berkeley’s shoulder and starts a coughing attack. She then vomits. You would think that the vomit was planted there, but no, that came from her. They highlight her process for that in the commentary. Most actresses would not attempt such a thing, but Moore gave everything to this role.
A lot of the shooting was during and after the big 1993 earthquake. That derailed a lot of their exterior shooting plans. The scenes in Wrenwood were shot in the Simi Valley, which was near the epicenter. There was an earthquake aftershock tremor that interrupts her final speech where she stumbles. It was probably a huge ordeal working around such a calamity with a shoestring budget. It is amazing that the film came out so good.
The Suicide, 1978 – This is a Todd Haynes short film, made when he was a child. For his age, he was already a talented filmmaker. The premise is a child is attempting suicide in a bathroom, and it flashes back to school confrontations and other problems that motivated the decision. It looks very because it was not shot on expensive film stock, and it is clearly amateur, but it shows a filmmaking and editing prowess.
Todd Haynes and Julianne Moore – This is a 2014 conversation between the two where they reflect on their career together that began with Safe. She aggressively wanted the part and auditioned in a T-shirt. They show the audition tape. The art in Safe, according to Haynes, is inverted. It followed the “cinematic trope,” as he puts it, but turns the formula on its head.
There were some TV articles in the 80s describing “environmental illness” or “20th century illness” Haynes had seen them and questioned whether they were authentic. Of course AIDs was at the forefront of his mind. He says that due to the time, you cannot think of Safe or his first feature, Poison without thinking of the epidemic.
Christine Vachon Interview – She was producer for Poison and Safe. They got together when he was editing Superstar. She saw the talent of Haynes and wanted to work with him. She put together a production company and went for a more ambitious project with Safe. She talks about auditioning process with Julianne, and how agent didn’t want her to read, but Haynes asked her to read when they met and she was glad to.
She talks about the AIDs virus and the affect it had on their community. He wanted to confront topic without dating itself, yet the LGBT community rejected the movie because it was not “gay enough. They wanted something more direct. Critics were not warm to it at first, but they came around. It made top ten lists that year, and by the end of the 1990s it had been understood and praised.
Criterion Rating: 8.5/10
Completing My Collection
I started collecting Criterions sometime around the year 2000. I use the term “collector” loosely. I wasn’t thinking of spine numbers or wanting to obtain the entire collection. The films were what drove my purchases. I wanted the films that I loved, which included many from Renoir, Bergman, Kurosawa, and so on. Some of the early purchases were Grand Illusion, Bob le Flambeur, and Le Corbeau, all of which are out of print now. At the height of my DVD collection, I probably owned somewhere in the realm of 50 titles.
At one point, years later, I remember seeing an Amazon listing for the entire Criterion Collection for sale. The list price was $5,000 and it encompassed several years of releases, possibly as many as 300-400 spines (I forget the exact number). When reading the titles, I was drooling, but there was no way in the world I could afford that price tag. However, the seed was planted and ever since I have longed to someday own the entire Criterion Collection.
Le Corbeau: One of my early acquisitions.
Over the years, I continued purchasing Criterions as I found a title that caught my fancy, yet amassing the entire Criterion Collection was still a pipe dream. Over time as I started to get established in a full-time and somewhat lucrative career, I started buying a few more. Criterion meanwhile transitioned from DVD to Blu-Ray, and I embraced the new technology because the home experience was comparable to the big screen experience.
Over the last year, things changed drastically. The catalyst was that my wife became a Jeopardy champion. She won one game and came in second the next day. This was not enough for us to quit our jobs, but it was a nice nest egg. It gave us a financial comfort level. We are both gainfully employed with stable jobs, but we were focused more on paying bills, investing in our future and buying the occasional toy.
After we returned home from our successful trip to California, I asked my wife if I could splurge on some Criterion titles. She said yes. She’s awesome. Let me first establish that this was not her money. It was actually mine (or maybe our?) money that we had set aside for a rainy day. Just knowing that we had the Jeopardy money in our future made us more comfortable with some extra spending.
Collecting all of the Criterion spine numbers at this point is overwhelming even if you can afford it. There are currently 753 spine numbers and counting. It might also be wasteful, as they are consistently upgrading their DVD catalog to Blu-Ray. I’ve already upgraded about 30 titles that I already owned. On top of that, some of the early titles have poor transfers or are lacking special features. One example is the Samurai Trilogy. The original transfer is horrendous and almost unwatchable, whereas the high definition transfer is delightful. The colors make the most out of the Blu-Ray format. For this reason and more, I have decided to collect Blu-Rays only.
A scene from Samurai I: Mushashi Miyamoto
David at Criterion Reflections made a good point on a recent CriterionCast. A lot of newer collectors will opt for the Blu-Ray only titles, which is understandable given the sheer amount of investment it would take to collect the entire library. Some of those collectors are young or newer to it. That’s not me, but I’m in a somewhat similar position. Unfortunately they miss out on some of the hidden gems, many of which will not be upgraded due to rights issues (like all those StudioCanal titles). Even though my collection consists of almost 95% Blu-Ray, I still like to watch the older titles, especially for my yearly lists. Rather than invest even more into the collection, I prefer to either use Hulu Plus or my local library for the DVD spines. Once they get upgraded, I will buy them.
I’ve been strategic as to when I will make my purchases. I tend to hit the Barnes & Noble and Flash Sales hard, while buying the new releases as they come out. I try to encourage people to give me gift cards for birthdays and Christmas, and I use Amazon credit card points to pick up occasional titles. I’ve now collected the vast majority of the Blu-Rays that are available, and every box set.
There are roughly 30+ un-owned Blu-Ray titles remaining, some of which are out of print, and some of which I dislike. My goal is to own them all anyway. In fact, that is now my New Year’s Resolution. This year I plan to complete my Collection, including the expensive out-of-print (The Third Man) and crappy (The Big Chill) titles.
Watching them is another story entirely. Since I’m already an art film-buff, I’ve probably seen more than half of the titles, but for this project, I want to revisit them with total immersion, which includes watching all of the special features and occasionally doing additional research.
Perhaps in a couple years when more titles have been upgraded, I’ll start procuring the older, more obscure titles that are unlikely to be revisited. Let’s face it that Criterion is a business, and some titles sell better than others. For now, I’m considering my collection complete once I have all of the Blu-Ray spines.
Criterion Close-Up 