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Criterion: Vengeance is Mine
VENGEANCE IS MINE, SHOHEI IMAMURA, 1979
Shohei Imamura’s Vengeance Is Mine was his first foray into narrative films after more than a decade of working with documentaries. It shows, as this is based on true events. With a couple of exceptions, Imamura does not rely on artistic storytelling methods. Aside from bouncing back and forth across the timeline via flashbacks, the storytelling itself is a straightforward portrayal of a man who has committed crimes and is on the run.
Within the confines of this narrative, Imamura uses a great deal of creativity with his shot selection. Even though he had more than established himself as an auteur during the Japanese New Wave, he still borrows from his heroes, namely Kurosawa and Ozu. You’ll see a lot of unique framing, such as shooting through doorways or blocking shots with walls, which Ozu was famous for. The lead character Iwao Enokizu, played by Ken Ogata, is usually subdued, but has moments of rage and extreme behavior. He is reminisicent of Mifune characters in Kurosawa films — tough minded and rarely showing weakness, and generally a tough character to penetrate.
At the center of the film is a moral crisis. That is not confined to just the serial killing of the protagonist, but most notably by the peripheral characters and how his live impacts theirs. His father is a devout Catholic that is tempted by Iwao’s wife, who holds him with high esteem. She is also Catholic, but her husband has left her with an emptiness and she clings to his father for support, sexually or otherwise. The only instance that she encounters another man, she only succumbs (and this is not perfectly clear) because he was recommended by her father-in-law.
The other moral question is with the ladies of the Asano Hotel, who harbor Iwao after he masquerades as a professor. At first they are taken with him, and when they discover his true nature, they respond in curious ways. The mother, also a former killer, is opposed to Iwao being a part of their life, whereas the daughter believes in him and tries to hide and protect him.
The flashbacks are put together well, not to the point where they confuse the narrative, although the film benefits from being watched a second time. They range from when Iwao defies his father at a young age prior to Pearl Harbor, and continue to the time of his murders, his subsequent escape and time on the run, and his subsequent arrest and interrogation.
Iwao is not a character that is easy to understand. We do not and cannot see inside his soul to see why he does things. Instead, Imamura plants little clues that shows that he has complete disregard for anyone else. There are a couple occasions when he shows a bit of humanity, like in the second half when he is carrying on an affair, he at times shows feelings towards her. You wonder whether he is falling in love or just playing with her. Yet he ends the relationship in a way that clouds his feelings even further. The character is mostly an embodiment of evil. Anyone that he encounters is either an obstacle or an opportunity, and he has ways of handling both.
The title of the movie is ambiguous. Who is taking vengeance? Is it Iwao for all the people who he feels have wronged him the past? His father perhaps? I’m sure there are plenty of theories on the internet, which I have not read, but I have a feeling it relates to the final scene. His ex-wife and daughter throw his bones into the air, only to have them freeze midway through. Even though his final wishes were an act of rebellion, just to throw his bones off a mountain, they were not granted. You could argue that the vengeance was of the Christian God that he turned his back on, not letting him have his final resting place, damning his bones from reaching the earth. You could also argue that this is Iwao’s spirit, rejecting any sort of resolution, especially anything coming from his despised father. Imamura leaves this open-ended, which punctuates the film. Why did he freeze the bones in the air? We’ll never know the answer, just as we’ll never understand what possessed Iwao to perform such unspeakable acts.
Movie Rating: 8/10
Supplements:
Audio Commentary with Tony Rayns: This was an exceptional commentary. He filled in a lot of the gaps regarding the source material, Imamura’s career, his influences, actors, themes and styles. For the entire 2:20 running time, he barely pauses and always shares interesting details.
Interview with Imamura: This is a brief interview where he talks about the film. You can tell he is pleased with how it came out. One interesting tidbit was how the crew would frequent a noodle shop run by the real killer’s sister.
Criterion Rating: 8.5/10
Criterion: The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (long version)
THE KILLING OF A CHINESE BOOKIE, JOHN CASSAVETES, 1976
Criterion often packages multiple versions of a film. Often the theatrical release is cut to shreds and the longer release is the director’s cut, which is usually the better version. As a habit, I’ve usually chosen the longer cut for the first viewing, and sometimes (usually never) will revisit the film by watching the shorter version. That’s how I approached this Cassavetes film, but I forgot one important difference between his work and all the others. He didn’t have to worry about studios, editors, or final cut. He wrote, directed, produced and usually financed his own films, so he had the ability to cut the film however he liked. So in this unusual case, the longer version is the inferior version.
Chinese Bookie has a lot going for it, especially the performance of Ben Gazzara as Cosmo Vitelli, a down on his luck New York cabaret club owner who finds himself in a difficult situation. He plays it with subtlety, but also with charm. He’s a likeable guy. He acts as a sort of caretaker for his performing girls, and feels very close to them. One of them is his girlfriend. He takes pride in his club, and puts all the money he makes back into it. Cosmo is a well-drawn character, like most in the Cassavetes world, and Gazzara plays him exceptionally well. He keeps himself calm and composed for the most part, and only loses control for a brief moment later in the film, a moment that is powerful because of how the character has been played.
As much as I liked the character and the actor, everything else was a slog. During the first 40-minutes or so, the film seems like it is going to be up to par with other Cassavetes films, mostly because of the strength of the performance and the character. He carries the momentum through his interaction with Seymour Cassell’s character. After that, the film just hits a brick wall. It should have been exciting when the titled act is carried out, but not really. It is hard to tell whether Cassavetes was going for artistic photography, pacing and editing, such as he had with Faces, but it simply didn’t work.
From there it gets worse. We go further inside the club. Most of the ensemble actors were amateurs and it shows. They show full musical numbers with a made up character named Mr. Sophistication doing the narration and provocatively dressed women playing out the parts. The catcalls from the audience suggest what the show is really about, as they bellow “Take it off!” and erupt in applause when one of the women momentarily pulls down her top. The problem is that we see too many of these numbers; they go on far too long; and they are not interesting. It is hard to imagine this show being popular. Early in the movie when Cassell visits on a Sunday, it seems that it isn’t, but during the performance sequences, the place seems packed. On screen, these performance sequences were overlong, awkward, and unnecessary. They took away from the character moments that bookended them.
After completing the film, being disappointed and navigating the supplements, I discovered that the longer version was, in fact, not the preferred version. Cassavetes felt that he was rushed to edit the film and did a poor job. The second version, released in 1978, is about 30-minutes shorter, but it isn’t simply fat being cut out of the film. Scenes are re-arranged. Many are cut, like the performance sequences that I loathed so much, and other scenes are included that weren’t in the longer version. The shorter version is supposed to be the definitive and preferred version. After watching the monstrosity of the longer version, I was not ready and willing to give it another try. Take this rating with a grain of salt because someday I will revisit this, and will probably prefer the 1978 version.
Film Rating: 3.5/10*
Supplements
Interview with Gazzara and Ruban. This is where I learned much about the controversy with the versions. When the 1976 version was released, it landed with a thud. People hated it, just like I did, and the actor and producer talk about how difficult that was to deal with.
Cassavetes interview: I always enjoy hearing Cassavetes talk about his style and his films. He conveys his passion, which can also be seen on screen.
Aside from the two versions, this disc is relatively thin on extras. It is the weakest thus far from the Cassavetes box.
Criterion Rating: 3/10*
* Could change when I see the 1978 version.
Criterion: Y tu mamá también
Y TU MAMÁ TAMBIÉN, ALFONSO CUARÓN, 2001
I thoroughly enjoyed Y tu mamá también on the first viewing back in the early 2000s. However sexually charged, it was a breath of fresh air compared to the formulaic Hollywood versions of adolescence, like the raunchy 80s comedies like Porky’s, or the more recent American Pie, both of which would spawn multiple sequels in pure Hollywood fashion. This was in the same vein, at least it explored similar themes, but it couldn’t be further apart in style and execution.
Also back then, I barely knew of Alfonso Cuarón. Over 10 years later, he has made what I consider to be the highlight of the Harry Potter series, and made what two technically impressive films with breathtaking and groundbreaking cinematography — Children of Men and Gravity. The former is among my favorite American movies of the 00s, and the latter was a wild ride. It fell short of my expectations probably due to the deafening hype, but I was still pleased to see the auteur pick up his Oscar. He deserved it for the last three films.
One aspect that escaped me upon first viewing was how gorgeously framed and shot it was. This was the origin of Cuarón’s creative partnership with Emmanuel “Chivo” Lubezki (although they had been friends for years). Lubezki also has an Oscar, for the same movie as Cuarón, but arguably deserves four – one for Children of Men, and two for his work with Malick in Tree of Life and The New World.
Visually, Y tu mamá también is similar to Children of Men in that it is not afraid to show the seedier sides of the world. He shows the rural, impoverished Mexico country, which is contrasted with the upper class background of the bratty young main characters. Children of Men does the same, but with a dystopian society where ugliness is expected. In both films, they manage to make the ‘warts and all’ viewpoint aesthetically pleasing, while they both show the best and worst of humanity and how that does not correlate with being rich and poor.
Y tu mamá también is first and foremost a coming of age film. The characters are deviants that happen to not get intro trouble. Their worst exploits are self-exploration on swimming pools or purposely spilling beverage on a nice suit at a presidential wedding. They are naïve when it comes to life, women, and as we’ll discover later, most notably themselves.
While the two leads grow during their journey across rural Mexico, the audience finds the nature of the country, at least as the characters encounter it, is in a form of decline. The tangential voice-overs talk about the people they encounter, some living, some not, and how their lives turn for the worse. The main characters barely notice the plight, and why would they since they are on their own course of discovery, yet as they blossom, others shrivel. The same could be said for Mexico, which makes Y tu mamá también a deeper film than it first appears.
Just like Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!, this film is known for its sex, and I doubt that releasing both titles on the same day were coincidental. I recall discussing Y tu mamá también with a friend ages ago, and he called it basically a pornographic movie and that the sex was gratuitous. I could not disagree more. Sure, there are plenty of films, artistic or mainstream, where sex is used to fill seats.
In this film, the sex fits with the character development. Sex was a constant topic of the two lead character’s, which was realistic for two young kids at that age. All kids go through that phase where they explore themselves, although maybe not to quite the same extreme. The sex itself said more about the character’s inexperience and immaturity. Whether they were nervously and apprehensively standing there with a towel, or sitting in the backseat of the car, they were far from sexual champions. They were children that were following the lead of a dominant female. They were so stricken by the fact that she would consider them, that their fantasies could become reality, that their confidence and bravado faded in an instant. And they failed to perform adequately, something that Luisa frankly reminded them during a later pivotal scene.
The sex was part of their coming of age. Through Luisa, they got it out of their system and left the club of the Charalastras. When we last see them, they have barely aged physically, but mentally and emotionally, they are years older. They have come to terms with their sexuality, just like Mexico had (or has) to come to terms with its poverty and the class division.
Film Rating: 8.5/10
Supplements:
Then and Now: There are two documentaries reflecting on the movie. The first was roughly 10 minutes and was filmed shortly after the film was released. Another documentary was filmed recently and is over 40 minutes in length. Of course the second documentary gave a lot more information, and the most valuable parts were hearing Cuarón reflect on how he wanted to leave the Hollywood system and create something original. This was a decision that has paid off for him.
The Making of the Film: This is more like a traditional behind-the-scenes short documentary like the ones found as extras on mainstream discs. Compared to the other serious and analytical features, it is a lot more fun. It show that there were tough times, like dealing with angry drivers when they close a street, and fun times, like when they throw the producer in the pool as a way of baptizing him. You can tell that the work was work, but it was also fun, and I think that contributes to the quality of the final product on the screen.
You Owe Me One, Carlos Cuarón. This is a short film by Alfonso’s brother, Carlos, who wrote Y tu mamá también. This is similarly themed, with lots of sex and playfulness, only this time it is a family of three that all have their own illicit sexual experiences under the same roof in a span of 12-minutes. The short is a good companion to también because of the comedy and focus on sex, but it is by comparison a lot more shallow and more of a romp.
Criterion Rating: 9/10
Criterion: A Woman Under the Influence
A WOMAN UNDER THE INFLUENCE, JOHN CASSAVETES, 1974
What I love about Criterion is that they tend to canonize the most important films. When something is added to the collection, it’s for a good reason (even if I disagree on occasion, and let’s not get into Armaggedon). That’s why when I revisit a Criterion film that I thought was poor or mediocre, I will often re-evaluate. Sometimes the supplements or commentaries will help guide my opinion by pointing out things that I missed, or sometimes it is simply giving the film another chance and watching it a second time. The latter is what happened here.
The first time I saw the film, I was blown away by the performances, but felt that Cassavetes got a little carried away with himself. He let scenes go on too long, far past when the point was made. He seemed so proud of the performances, and rightfully so, that he did not want to interfere.
After a second viewing, I still have that feeling, yet I’ve come around to Cassavetes’ way of thinking. Part of this is because I’ve also fallen even more for Gena and Peter’s performances, and I found that I almost didn’t want the scenes to end. The fact that they sustained their characters for such lengthy and powerful scenes speaks volumes about their dedication and what they brought to the characters. The spaghetti and doctor scenes were where this was more apparent. They go on a long time, but the acting is magical, even if what happens is awkward and unsettling. At 2.5 hours, Cassavetes could have still trimmed a couple scenes or tightened a couple others up, but I am a little more forgiving of that now.
Another reason why I am more enamored of the movie now is because I’ve looked at it in proper context. Shadows was concurrent with the French New Wave and Faces was inspired by it, while this version was on the heels and owes a slight debt to the American New Wave. However, like his other films, it is wholly original and distinctively a Cassavetes. He is imitating nobody, although plenty of people who try (and mostly fail) to imitate him later. For the time period, this type of independent character exploration was revolutionary, and is probably one of the key origins for the indie movement that would follow in the 80s and 90s.
Film Rating: 8/10
Supplements:
Commentary: Unlike the usual commentaries with directors, actors, or historians, this was unique because it had the sound recordist and the composer. That worked well given the Cassavetes method. They described a lot of the inexpensive techniques with a lot of fascinating stories about the cast and crew. The most interesting part was hearing them describe seeing Gena and Peter give their performances, how they were when not in character, and simply seeing such amazing performances as they happened.
Gena Rowlands and Peter Falk conversation: Even though they had both aged, especially Falk (RIP), you could see they had a rapport and fond memories of their experience with this movie. They shared some neat anecdotes, like how Cassavetes would call theaters in big cities that were showing films he liked. Some would turn them down, but they would all take his call.
1975 Audio Interview with Cassavetes: I’m not crazy about it when Criterion places audio recordings on the disc. It’s not that the content is not interesting. Usually it is the opposite. The problem is that DVD is not the best method for audio only. I listened to only a little bit of this recording.
Criterion Rating: 8.5/10
Criterion: Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!
TIE ME UP! TIE ME DOWN, PEDRO ALMODOVAR, 1989
Welcome to the Collection, Pedro.
Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! (or the better Spanish title, Átame!) would not have been my first choice for an Almodovar film, nor probably my 2nd, 3rd or 4th, but I’ll take what I can get. I had seen it previously twice already. The first time was back around the time it came out, before Almodovar was on my radar as a filmmaker, and I was mostly curious because of the census X/NC-17 rating controversy. I remember feeling underwhelmed back then, and revisited it some time after Talk to Her. By that time I had revisited some of Almodovar’s other works and become an enthusiast if not quite a fan. That second viewing changed my opinion a little bit. I appreciated the Almodovar touch, but thought the story was bland, and frankly, ludicrous.
So here goes the third try. By this time, Almodovar has been established as a legendary filmmaker. I’m not as rabid as others about him, but I certainly appreciate him as an artist. That made me eager to approach what was arguably his breakthrough film, just to see if there was another reading of the film that I may have missed. Having an idea of some of his pet themes, I know a little better what to look for.
Speaking of pet themes, Almodovar is a master at handling sexuality, and this was again apparent in Tie Me Up. From the intro, with the director ogling and obsessing over his lead, to the nautical voyage in the bathtub, and climaxing (no pun intended) with an intense sex scene that, surprisingly, shows very little nudity. In the extras, Almodovar proudly states that Elia Kazan said it was the best sex scene ever. I’m not about to put together a top 10 or anything, but it was tastefully done and carried an intensity that helped sell what was still a ludicrous plot. The pyramid shot from above was a creative way of punctuating the scene with an artistic flair.
In retrospect, Tie Me Up! seems artistically constrained. The story was pretty banal, like an upbeat version of William Wyler’s The Collector, albeit with quite a different ending (of which I won’t spoil for either movie). While this was clearly an attempt to make a more consumable film that the prototypical Almodovar, there is more than meets the high. As an example, by taking the bondage approach, I think he is poking fun of the romantic boy-meets-girl formula that had been rinsed and repeated for the entire decade in American cinema. The plot was completely ludicrous, albeit I think somewhat intentionally, and he showed the rough layers of romance by touching on abuse, drug addiction, and mental instability. Yet this falls short of being a satire, as he treats his characters with a depth and seriousness that could never be seen when Andrew McCarthy falls in love with a Mannequin. Even if he is poking fun at the cycle of romantic comedies, we are continually reminded that these characters are highly flawed and seeking redemption.
I found some new appreciation for the film during this re-visitation. A lot of that had to do with the keen direction and vibrant, bright colors schemes with vivid color, which would become a staple in Almodovar’s later films. It’s as if we are seeing the painter stumble onto his signature style. While this is still a far cry from his better works, it is a good, accessible starting point.
Movie Rating: 7/10
Special Features:
Documentary: This is a run of the mill, 30-minute feature about the film, mostly with talking head interviews. Some of the discussion was about the impact of the film and the ratings controversy. This is the only part of the disc where Victoria Abril was involved. I cannot find the details, but it appears she had a falling out with Almodovar. She talks about the difficulty of working with him.
Michael Barker Interview: This was an odd inclusion, as I believe Barker is an executive for Sony Picture Classics. I’m sure he has worked closely with Almodovar, but he’s not the type of figure to usually get a Criterion supplement. He gushes about the director and how much fun it has been to be involved in his career. It’s more of a fluff, retrospective piece. Not too impressive.
Banderas and Almodovar: I really enjoyed this one. It’s basically a short conversation between the two actors filmed in 2003. By that time they were both highly successful, with Banderas an established Hollywood star and Almodovar fresh off his surprise Oscar win. The two talked about all sorts of things, especially how it impacted their lives. At the end, they vow to work together again, which happened almost a decade later for The Skin I Live In.
Criterion Rating: 7.5
Criterion: Shoah
SHOAH, CLAUDE LANZMANN, 1985
Roger Ebert famously refused to rank or categorize Shoah with other films, whether they were narrative or documentary, because it simply could not be compared with other films. It stands on its own. As a history buff, I hold similar feelings. This is as much an historical document as it is a documentary about the holocaust. That said, it also turned out to be a groundbreaking documentary with a distinct style that influenced other films. The documentaries of Ken Burns and Werner Herzog owe a debt to Shoah, as do many others. It turned out to be a certain benchmark of documentary filmmaking, and it still stands near the top.
The right time to create an all-encompassing, reflective, history of the holocaust was exactly when Lanzmann set forth on his lengthy project, in the early-70s, which we spent an exhaustive 12-years working on until it was finally finished and released in 1985. The timing was ideal for two reasons.
The first is obvious, because many of the major players were still alive. The second is because there had been a time to reflect. Many of the stories that were told during Shoah could not have told 20 years prior. It was simply too close to the tragedy of the actual events. People could not have delved so deep into a painful past without having time to process and reflect on it, time to move on. This is the case with the barber, talking about how he had to participate in the ruse to lure unsuspecting Hebrews to the gas chambers, when he encounters people he knew. These are excruciating memories, and he can almost not tell the story. The same is the case with a lot of these people. These are wounds that cannot be re-opened when they are fresh.
Additionally, people were able to come to terms with the impact of the holocaust. Even after the war, people didn’t really know what to make of it. The fact that a nation would nearly successfully exterminate an entire race is simply unfathomable. Some that were closer to the actual events had to deal with their own guilt of being caught up in the wave of anti-semitism, even if they didn’t participate in the holocaust nor would have wished it to happen. Lanzmann captures this sentiment when he interviews Polish towns near the extermination camps. They were aware that the Jews were going away and had feelings about it, but in many respects the full impact was kept at arms length. One witness, when asked about her feelings towards the Jews during that time, boldly points out that she does not feel pain when someone else cuts their finger. Ouch!
And then there’s Lanzmann. Without his obsession in getting the countless hours and hours of interviews, or deciding to finally travel to Poland to see and film the camps themselves, to painstakingly and patiently search for financing what must have been a tough sell. His obsession was the key in making this film what it is, and his presence is felt in nearly every frame, as his curiosity and interviewing technique is how the layers are peeled that reveal the process of how the Jews were exterminated.
Shoah is not an easy film to watch. Not by a long shot. There’s the 9+ hour length, making it impossible to watch in a single sitting, and the unwieldy translated subtitles, which make you wait for the translation from Polish/Hebrew/Yiddish to French before you see the subtitle. It is a film that has to be split up and requires patience. And then there’s the actual content. Lanzmann asks the penetrating questions about how the Jew-killing machine actually worked, and the answers arrive in graphic detail. Hearing stories about the death panic, the screaming, the cruel teasing by the German soldiers, and many others, are among the darkest you’ll ever hear. Some of the most difficult portions are the clandestine interviews with German Nazi’s who proudly unveil the killing ritual step-by-step. This is a film that will leave you shuddering many times, in disbelief that such acts could have actually happened.
However difficult and sobering, it is a worthwhile tribute to the events and to the departed. The visual film language complements the troubling stories. They are not manipulative, but respectful. The cinematography is muted, with a lot of blues and greens, with slow moving cameras that tour the camp sites, or the slow-moving trains as they approach the camps that we know mean the end for thousands, but the people who actually traveled to their ends were completely unaware. Even though it is unimaginable what these people endured during their last days, weeks and months, we can almost put ourselves in their shoes, if only for a second, thanks to Lanzmann putting us there with his many tracking shots shown as the stories are told.
Shoah may be one of the most heart-wrenching and difficult movies to watch, but it is also one of the most important and one of the deepest. It requires some investment to dedicate the time to view, and the patience with the dialogue, but it is a film that almost has to be seen. However dark, disturbing and at times grotesque, by the end, it is a thing of beauty to capture such a tragic era of world history.
With all due respect to Ebert, Shoah is a film that can be ranked against others. It ranks as one of the greatest documentaries ever made and is a monumental historical achievement.
Movie Rating: 9.5/10
Special Features:
The Criterion boxset has three discs, two for the film and one of the supplements, the latter of which could comprise about half of the actual film.
There are three more documentaries, all from Shoah outtakes:
A Visitor from the Living – This documentary is about a Swiss Red Cross official who toured what turned out to be a façade of a camp. The Germans had anticipated his visit and put together a show of better conditions, but that’s all it was, a show. He made his report and they later exterminated all who he encountered. The interview is compelling because the interviewee now knows about the horrors of the holocaust, and talks about sensing how things were out of order, but his report was glowing. They dance around how he looked the other way until the very end, when Lanzmann uncharacteristically calls him out for either not being honest in the interview, or not being honest in the report.
Sobibór, October 14, 1943, 4 p.m. – This is one of the rare uplifting tales on the entire disc. It is the story of a young man who had previously escaped concentration camps eight times only to eventually be recaptured. He eventually ends up in Sobidor, which was an extermination camp where hundreds of thousands were processed. He took part in an uprising and describes it in detail, as it began at 4pm exactly, and would not have happened if Germans were not so punctual. Even though this is a sit down interview and there is a language barrier that requires two translations, this is an adventure of freedom that is told to Lanzmann.
The Karski Report– I realize that Jan Karski is an influential figure that reported on the travesties going on in the ghetto, but I had trouble getting through this one. He also was one of the weaker parts of Shoah, partly because his story was a digression from the majority of the film (the ghettos versus the extermination camps), and also because of his manner of speaking in English that makes him hard to understand. I did not complete this documentary.
Two Interviews:
Both of these are fascinating. The shorter one is Lanzmann talking about A Visitor from the Living and Sobibór, October 14, 1943, 4 p.m., which is brief and interesting to hear why these stories were omitted from Shoah and why he made certain decisions in bringing them to their own films. The cream of the supplements was an hour long discussion between Lanzmann and Serge Toubiana, which gives a lot of background information on the making of the film and what Lanzmann was trying to accomplish. It was random that he was given this project, and if he had known what it would eventually entail, he might not have gone through with it. We’re lucky that he did.
There is also a segment with Caroline Champetier, who was an assistant camera person, and filmmaker Arnaud Desplechin, who has written about Shoah and has a respectable body of work of his own.
Criterion Rating: 10/10
Criterion: The Big Chill
THE BIG CHILL, LAWRENCE KASDAN, 1983
I first saw The Big Chill ages ago, when I was much younger and had a different perception of the world. I thought it was okay, recognizing that it was an above average film for the time, but wasn’t something I could relate to. At my age now, I should be able to relate to the material more, being in my early middle ages and having reunited with many old friends over the last several years. Sometimes a Criterion release will change my mind about a film, and I’m always willing to go in with an open mind.
My perception may have changed, but so has my appreciation for good cinema. I’ve seen at least a thousand films since that first viewing, and having seen so many good ensemble movies, this one felt lackluster by comparison. I actually liked it far less than the first time, when I was a teenager, and that is partly because I have experienced other, better films, but also because I have lived enough to have an understanding of genuine nostalgia and emotion.
In one of the special features, someone mentioned that one of the producers said “I had no idea this was a comedy.” I actually felt the same way, and didn’t realize that it was intended to be a comedy until hearing this from the filmmakers. There was not a funny note. Sure, there were some playful moments, and the way they incorporated the big dance scene was fun. My guess is they intended Meg Tilly and Jeff Goldblum to be comedic relief, but they completely fell flat.
They also try too hard to make things seem important. The emotional character moments are not earned and don’t seem genuine. Sure, it is difficult to develop such a large ensemble where there’s not a leading man, but it has been done before. From the same era, there’s The Breakfast Club and Hannah and Her Sisters. More recently, there’s The World’s End, which is a real reunion comedy with emotional moments. The big difference between The Big Chill and these other films is that Chill goes out of it’s way to try to create profound, insightful character moments, yet with completely undeveloped characters. These other films develop the characters around the story and let the emotional moments come from there.
What is most interesting about this project is that the large ensemble became pretty well known, and most of them are actively working today. Some are famous, and most are now proven, experienced, quality actors. You can tell that they were just beginning to develop their chops, and maybe with better material and direction, they could have pulled it off. The potential was there, which makes it all the more disappointing to revisit and witness its failure.
Movie Rating: 3/10
Special Features:
Lawrence Kasdan Interview: I’m not sure what it was, but Kasdan does not come off as very bright in this interview. Maybe it is his speaking cadence. He talks about working within the Hollywood system to create good movies, and seems a bit arrogant by talking up his work, which to me has been mostly mediocre. He talks about some films that inspired him, and compares this one to Rules of the Game. I hope he wasn’t serious.
1998 Documentary: This also didn’t work for me, and I think I might have enjoyed it more if I liked the movie. Most of it was about people talking about their characters, the production, with a lot of clips. I actually didn’t finish this one.
TIFF Reunion Panel 2013: This was better, but that’s because the actors have now become successful, and it is interesting hearing them recall their experiences and the wonderful times they had.
Deleted Scenes: Pass. If they weren’t good enough to make the movie, then I’d rather not see them.
Criterion Rating: 4/10
Criterion: Faces
FACES, JOHN CASSAVETES, 1968
There are a lot of faces in John Cassavetes’ second film, Faces. His camera is not afraid of getting close, sometimes so close that it almost feels like you can see inside the faces inside the characters heads, and behind the façade they exhibit while they are out cavorting. The extreme close-ups are unnerving, the jump-cuts jarring, but altogether, it feels as polished as ever. The story is of a broken marriage, but it is told in an unconventional matter where, of all things, the characters spend much of their time laughing, telling bad jokes, singing, and living it up.
What is Cassavetes trying to say here? Is it that behind every happy face, there is a sad one underneath? Is he saying that laughter is a way of hiding the pain? I cannot claim to have these answers, and probably neither did Cassavetes. Writing this with the benefit of hindsight, we know that he was an alcohol and that’s what led to his eventual passing. He certainly had a lot of loud, raucous nights filled with laughter, but that laughter inevitably ends, and he certainly endured his share of hardship.
He wrote a good script and wanted to do something a little different with it, and some of what happened on screen was probably a direct result of the lack of a budget. Since they were shooting in 16mm, they had to get creative, and had to play with conventions. What he had played around with in Shadows, he nearly perfected in Faces. He made the characters seem like they were real people, with real issues and problems. The fake laughter was and wasn’t acting, as the characters themselves were acting out a scene that was not exactly true to their world – that they were all playing a part in the downfall of a relationship.
And I cannot say enough about the acting. There were two Oscar nominations, for Seymour Cassel and Lynn Carlin, but I think that Gena Rowlands and John Marley brought everything they could to the roles. Even Fred Draper, playing a character with his own name, was terrific at being the schlub who eventually becomes the third wheel, with his transparent attempts to stay within the party being refused. Another terrific performance was given by Joanne Moore Jordan as Louise Draper, who plays a jilted woman trying to take solace in a younger man, Chet, who has eyes for another. The entire ensemble was the best of the few Cassavetes films I’ve seen thus far.
Movie Rating: 8/10
Special Features:
Alternate Opening: The original cut had been over 180 minutes, and has not survived to this day. Apparently Cassavetes buried it after he cut down the film to the theatrical length. This new opening was found later and mixes things around. It begins with the bad joke banter between the Forsts, wbich comes later in the theatrical version. It also fleshes out some of the earlier scenes, including the bar at which Freddie and Richard meet Jeannie and how they end up at her apartment. It doesn’t add much to the movie, but you see that some of what was originally shot and was later cut around was originally a little more developed.
Cinéastes de notre temps: An episode of the French program was has footage of Cassavetes talking about the filmmaking progress before the release of the film, and giving a formal interview after the release. Usually I really enjoy these TV pieces, but this one went a little long and didn’t reveal much about the movie.
Making “Faces”: This was a lot better. It was nearly a feature length documentary about the process by which Faces was made, and had a lot of interesting tidbits from the actors. One thing that struck me was how Cassavates did not direct the actors. He would let them know when they weren’t on their game, but aside from that, they owned the role.
Lighting Faces: This was very technical and probably can only be truly appreciated by those who understand the finer details of cinematography. I admired some of what was revealed about how they used natural lighting, or made the film stock fit the mood of the scene, but much of it was robotic to me.
Criterion Rating: 8.5/10
Criterion: Shadows, John Cassavetes
SHADOWS, JOHN CASSAVETES, 1959
As I watched John Cassavetes’ first film, I was struck immediately by how different it was from the films of the era, and how much in common it had with the French New Wave films that were just about to burst onto the scene. I have no idea whether Cassavetes had any inkling of Cahiers du Cinema or any of the young filmmakers who were concurrently putting on their first projects, but I think it is reasonable to say that they arrived at a similar place by taking the same route – the influences of the post-WWII films, particularly from the Americans.
Many have argued that because of the code and the routine during the last vestiges of the studio system, that innovation was falling by the wayside. The film world was ready to be shaken up and it most certainly was in the years to come, mostly by the French, but also by the advent of the American indie that Cassavetes could arguably have begun. The young American filmmakers to follow would be influenced by the New Wave in a huge part, but also by Cassavetes films, if to a lesser degree.
That’s not to say that Shadows is exactly like all the New Wave films, but neither were they like each other. Few people would lump Elevator to the Gallows, The 400 Blows and Breathless together as part of the same style. The point was they came from fresh, young perspectives, which was exactly what Cassavetes brought. Nothing like his portrayal of racial relations or the Beat Generation would be found in a studio film, and that was why it was revolutionary for American film. On top of that, it gave Cassavetes a filmmaking foothold to put together the type of independent dramas over the next two decades that he would become known for, even if they were different stylistically from his debut.
Shadows is not a great film. It is barely a good film. The post-script proudly proclaims that it was improvised (which wasn’t entirely true), and the actors were mostly novices, and the rust shows. The lack of polish is part of its charm. Some of the scenes were stilted, wooden and disjointed, like the African-American musicians talking about their business and the embarrassment of introducing a girl group. Other scenes seemed more natural and fluid, like the courtship and consummation between Ben and Lelia.
Even though it is hit or miss, it is valuable for capturing a scene that wasn’t always represented. There aren’t a lot of movies about the Beat Generation. It is in many ways a document of the culture, even if not a realistic representation of what it was really like.
Movie Rating: 6/10
Special Features:
This Blu-Ray disc features A Constant Forge, a whopping 3 hour and 20 minute documentary about Cassavetes and his process. Wow! From what I have read, the documentary is watchable, if not spectacular. I’m passing on it for now and may revisit after I’ve explored more of Cassavetes’ filmography.
The remaining features are minor. There is a brief interview with Lelia Goldoni, where she describes how she became involved with Cassavetes’ workshop and the atmosphere of his teachings. She talks about her experiences with the films and the improvisation or lack thereof. There is also some silent footage from the workshop and some stills, which gives a distant taste of what it might have been life.
Criterion Rating: TBD (once I watch the long documentary)
Criterion: Sweet Smell of Success
SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS, ALEXANDER MACKENDRICK, 1957
Sweet Smell of Success is one of many in a long line of New York City masterpieces. It captures not only the high traffic sprawl, but also the culture and especially the seedy underbelly. In this case the sludge is the press, and is based on the life of Walter Winchell, one of the earliest and most influential gossip reporters. He had a massive following, seemingly limitless power, and according to many, was completely unscrupulous, unethical, and would use people and spit them out, building and destroying lives and careers.
Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis star in this vehicle, with Lancaster as the Winchell-inspired reporter named J.J. Hunsecker, and Curtis plays Sidney Falco, the smarmy press agent that thinks of little other than climbing the ladder to success. He is at the columnist’s mercy, since being locked out of the column would mean the end for him. In order to curry favor, he goes the extra mile by trying to split up the relationship of Hunsecker’s sister with a local musician. He is blackballed in the papers until he succeeds in the division, and none of his actions can trace back to Hunsecker.
There was a lot of talent behind this picture. Alexander Mackendrick was an unrecognized genius, known for making a handful of successful pictures for Ealing Studios. This was his first American film, and even though he was not equipped to handle the Hollywood-style kill-or-be-killed environment, he managed to pull off an amazing film. His success would not last as he would be fired from his next product. The writing was based on stories by Ernest Lehman, which were thinly veiled to be about Winchell, and the best parts of the screenplay were penned by playwright Clifford Odets. The rapid fire and biting dialog that occurs between the two larger-than-life characters was mostly the product of Odets and his constant rewriting. The result was a tightly-written and quickly-paced pictures, especially since it is mostly dialog driven. On top of all this talent, was James Wong Howe, cinematographer extraordinaire, who through Mackendrick’s vision, captured New York City like no other.
Appropriately for the subject, the style and tone resembles a film noir, only without the typical stereotypes of the genre. There are no private detectives or unsolved murders at the core of the story. Compared with the noirs of the era, the plot is actually quite mundane, mostly about the rivalry and dependency between the two men, and what deceptive machinations they will undertake to accomplish their goals. The film looks, sounds, and flows beautifully.
The only weak point, and this is a minor one, is that it is such an indictment of the changing newspaper industry, most notably Winchell, that it seems heavy handed at times. Winchell, for all his faults, was not as calculating and overbearing as Lancaster’s Hunsecker. If he were, he would have never achieved such a powerful position in the industry. On the other hand, his confrontational characterization made for some terrific character drama. If he were a weaker character, the climax might not be as impactful.
Movie Rating: 9.5/10
Special Features:
This disc has a treasure of features, almost too many. There were two that were exceptional. The 40-minute documentary, [i]Mackendrick: The Man Who Walked Away[/i], was fascinating, chronicling how the director went from the top of the British film system to an American director, to completely out of a career and into academia. His life is an example of how Hollywood was not all that indifferent from the cutthroat newspaper world that he so eloquently portrayed in his first American film.
Another terrific feature on the disc was an interview with Neal Gabler, a film critic and historian who had written a book about Winchell. His commentary was mostly about Winchell’s history and legacy, and how his life was portrayed on the screen in what was a major character indictment. The character of Hunsecker was protective of his sister, but in real life, Winchell was protective of his daughter and outcasted one of her suitors, which is what the movie was based on.
There are other features, including a lengthy interview given by successful Hollywood filmmaker James Mangold, who studied under and was mentored by Mackendrick.
On top of that, the commentary by James Naremore has a wealth of information about the film, the time, and the production. There are many interesting details pointed out. One that struck me was how this film pushed back against the production code by ignoring its reservations and going forward as scripted anyway. He also points out that this is one of the first films that references the McCarthyism trend in the press of calling out communists, and that much of those behind the film had leftist leanings and an anti-HUAC agenda. This is peppered throughout the film, and it is used as the smoking gun that shoots the narrative into the third act, which is the leaked item suggesting that Dallas is a pot-smoking communist elitist.
This disc has some fine features and I didn’t even go into the packaging, which is also terrific. This is also a must for Blu-Ray owners and anyone with an interest in film history towards the end of the studio system.
Criterion Rating: 10/10
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