One of a kind

A and X by a statue of Charles III.

Last Year at Marienbad (1961)

Directed by Alain Resnais

Story and screenplay by Alain Robbie-Grillet

Criterion Collection Spine #478

There is no other film like director Alain Resnais’ Last Year at Marienbad.  No other film is as completely subjective or demanding of the viewers’ minds.  Penned by the champion of the nouveau roman (“new novel”) Alain Robbe-Grillet, Marienbad eschews traditional narrative and even eliminates any semblance of flashback structure.  Instead, it is a continuously streaming conscious of fragmented memories from two characters whose viewpoints cannot be trusted as reliable. 

The premise is simple. At a ritzy chateau inhabited by affluent jet-setters in the early 20^th century X (Giorgio Albertazzi) approaches A (Delphine Seyrig) trying to convince her they met one year ago at Marienbad and had agreed to re-unite and run off together one year later.  A is staying with M (Sacha Pitoëff) who was at Marienbad last year and may or may not be her husband. This his all we know.

X: I must have you alive. Alive, as you have already been every evening, for weeks, for months.
A: I have never stayed so long anywhere.
X: Yes, I know. I don't care. For days and days. Why don't you still want to remember anything?
A: You're raving! I'm tired, leave me alone!

Marienbad demands the viewer buy in from the start with an open, active mind to piece together the unsolvable enigma.  There may be no solution to puzzle but the beauty is in trying to understand.  Resnais and Robbe-Grillet respected the viewer enough to allow the viewer to create one’s own interpretation and the result is a lasting work of cinematic art.  Just like a trailer for the film says, it is the viewer who is the co-author and one’s experiences and mood are the determining factors.

 The film is as equally hypnotic as it is puzzling.  Resnais’ direction favors long, slow tracking shots through the chateau with its long hallways, high and ornate ceilings and often ghostly exterior and garden with a camera which always seems to be try to reveal something to us and the same time it seems cautious in its approach.  Accompanying this is Sacha Vierny’s unforgettably haunting organ score which plays nicely to the level of the drama. A prime reason why I’m so fond of Marienbad and Resnais’ Hiroshima Mon Amour is the music in each film is different, evocative and especially moody.  It elevates and compliments the mes en scene exceptionally well.

So we have a mind-bending and hypnotic narrative – so why is Marienbad a great film?  Marienbad is undoubtedly impeccably directed, scored, acted and photographed in glorious black and white. However, the reason the film works and is great art is because it has infinite re-watchability and is ripe for a myriad of interpretations.  One thing I often hear and read from those in the art world who write about or comment on paintings is a painting is “all about how it makes you feel”.

(left to right, X, M)
NIM, a logarithmic game, the secret to unraveling Marienbad?

The first two times I saw Marienbad on consecutive nights at the Cleveland Cinematheque I had an entirely different feel for the film then when I saw it three or four times later.  My first two viewings (this film has to be seen at least twice) I saw X as a seducer.  I thought he met A last year at Marienbad but that she had repressed those memories because of an event unknown to the viewer.  With subsequent viewings I considered the picture to concern A’s struggle to cope with being raped by X (or M or someone else?) last year with her trying to repress memories and him trying to dig them up.

The famous over-exposed shot of X and A in the bedroom may support this theory.  In another viewing I saw A as having had an affair with X last year at Marienbad with her denying those memories so as to not be found out by her husband M. A memory, however reliable, of M shooting A in her bedroom may support this notion.

As one can see, Marienbad is open to many, many interpretations beyond the few I’ve listed in this selection.  The effectiveness of the film is allowing the viewer to determine his or her own story.

With Last Year at Marienbad I think Resnais and Robbie-Grillet have created a lasting, future-proof work of art, a high point of the legendary French New Wave, a technical marvel that has influenced Kubrick’s The Shining, David Lynch, high end designer fashion commercials, British rock group Blur’s “To the End” and will be discussed and analyzed for as long as there is cinema.

Paris, we love you

Midnight in Paris (2011)

Written and Directed by Woody Allen

The artists:

Ernest Hemingway (Cory Stoll)

F. Scott Fitzgerald (Tom Hiddleston)
Zelda Fitzgerald (Alison Pill)

Salvador Dali (Adrien Brody)

Cole Porter (Yves Heck)

Luis Bunuel (Adrien de Van)

T.S. Eliot (David Lowe)

Gertrude Stein (Kathy Bates)

Pablo Picasso (Marcial Di Fonzo Bo)

Woody Allen’s knowledge of and his appreciation for the great artists of the past has always attracted me to his work.  This is especially apparent in films like Annie Hall with its barrage of references and Manhattan (poking fun at the “Academy of the Overrated”) and even his newer work like Vicky Cristina Barcelona with the tip of the cap to Antoni Gaudi.  The auteur’s latest picture Midnight in Paris takes his love of art and brings it to the forefront. 

Prior to seeing the film I wasn’t sure being in good films was Owen Wilson’s thing.  Thankfully, Woody and casting director Juliette Taylor know what they’re doing as Wilson tackles his role with charm and enthusiasm.  He is Gil the romantic, a self-described Hollywood hack who would much rather write serious novels and live in Paris just like the great artists of the 1920’s.  He appreciates the little things like Paris at night, Paris in the rain and soaking in as much culture as he can.  His unsupportive and often hostile fiancée is Inez, played by Rachel McAdams.  Some say this is a throwaway role for McAdams and the only thing likable about her in the picture is cinematographer Darius Khondji’s fondness for her posterior.  McAdams has star billing but this film is Wilson’s and the scene-stealing artists he meets in Paris after midnight.

Adriana (Marion Cotillard) and Gil (Owen) enjoy Paris at night.

Gil is under the impression his life would be better if he lived in Paris of the 1920’s where giants like F. Scott Fitzgerald, Zelda Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Salvador Dali, Pablo Picasso, Luis Bunuel, Cole Porter frequented cafes, partied at Maxim’s, drank wine into the wee hours of the night and created magic.  The bearded and pedantic Paul (Michael Sheen) describes this “false notion” as having contempt for the present.  Naturally, the character of Paul is yet another shot at pseudo-intellectualism even though Paul is an “expert” in Monet, Picasso, wine and yes, even dancing.

Paul (Michael Sheen) is an expert in damn near everything.

The most fascinating parts of the film are when the clock strikes midnight and Gil is given a lift by literary and art icons each night and whisked away to a new adventure.  Gil encounters Ernest Hemingway (scene stealing Corey Stoll) who speaks the way he wrote:

Gil: Gil Pender.
Ernest Hemingway: Hemingway.
Gil: Hemingway?
Ernest Hemingway: You liked my book?
Gil: Liked? I loved all of your work.
Ernest Hemingway: Yes. It was a good book because it was an honest book, and that's what war does to men. And there's nothing fine and noble about dying in the mud unless you die gracefully. And then it's not only noble but brave.

Ernest Hemingway (Corey Stoll -center-)

The same can be said of Woody’s Fitzgerald (Tom Hiddleston) who calls friends “old sport” much like Jay Gatsby. It’s also fun to see the unpredictably of Zelda (“She’s just as we imagined and read about!”) portrayed by Alison Pill.  Zelda is insecure in her relationship with Scott, she clashes with Hemingway who hated her writing and friends note “her great talent seems to be drinking”.  Viewers won’t be able to forget Adrien Brody as Salvador Dali and his rhinoceros monologue.  Likewise for Kathy Bates’ Gertrude Stein, the friend to artists and the only one Hemingway trusted to provide feedback on his work.  Gil confides in her for a critique on his novel.

Gil and the 1920's gang.

Running parallel to the endless array of artists making appearances is Gil’s love interest Adriana (Marion Cotillard).  She’s an aspiring costume designer although she’s more of a mistress to a variety of artists like Picasso.  This love angle evokes Purple Rose of Cairo because it works in its fantasy context only.  Much like that film, Midnight in Paris explores fantasy versus reality, but with a denouement that is appreciative to both sides.

Midnight in Paris will delight movie-goers with its charm, romance and wit and should please Woody devotees who will smile at Woody’s almost Manhattan-like opening scene of Paris lovingly set to Sidney Bechet’s (his favorite musician) soulful “Si Tu Vois Ma Mere”.  ****

Pull up a chair and let Dali (Adrien Brody) tell you about the rhinoceros.

Deep and dark with tall grass all around

Just a little bit further...

Onibaba (1964) "Devil Woman"

Written and Directed by Kaneto Shindo

Criterion Collection Spine #226

The hole is deep and dark. It’s ensconced on all sides by tall grass and near it a swamp area.  It’s the perfect place to dump the bodies of murdered samurai after stripping them of their armor and valuables.  The goods are then exchanged with a merchant for bags of millet.

Such is the living of a young woman (Jitsuko Yoshimura) and her old, but spry mother-in-law (Nobuko Otowa) in writer-director Kaneto Shindo’s erotic horror piece Onibaba set in 14^th century Japan where skirmishes linger from a war that many believe to have been over.  The two women work in tandem to ambush weakened wandering samurai by spearing them and dumping their bodies in the hole.  It’s their only means of survival as they’d likely starve without the millet acquired from trading the samurai valuables.

Shindo’s noir-like canvas of tall reeds, swamps, smoldering hot nights where women sleep in the nude, shabby huts and suggestive score are ideal for this story.  Complicating matters we’re introduced to Hachi (Kei Sato) who fought in the war with the young woman’s husband.  The young woman falls for Hachi to the chagrin of the old woman who is determined to keep the girl away from him. She also thinks Hachi could have saved her son and even wonders if he is lying about him dying in the war. This is where things get interesting.

Like the best suspense films, Onibaba shows us just enough to get the adrenaline going without showing too much.  Shindo introduces a wandering samurai complete with a strange battle mask to hide his “handsome face”. Later we see an apparition-like figure with the same mask.   

We are to believe some of this may be the result of the young woman and Hachi’s midnight trysts which are a sin, accordingly to the old woman. 

Even if one doesn’t buy into ghosts and curses, Shindo delivers with a suspenseful and thrilling narrative.  Something must also be said for a creating a chilling environment to accompany such a tale. It’s so vivid and haunting one is not likely to forget it any time soon.

Still awe-inspiring

2001: A Space Odyssey

Directed by Stanley Kubrick

Screenplay by Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke

From Clarke's story "The Sentinel"

The first time I saw Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey was in seventh grade science class. My teacher, Mrs. Trillo, had regularly shown some fascinating Carl Sagan documentaries during the school year. When she put on 2001 there seemed to be mixed reactions from the class.  During the famous “Dawn of Man” sequence there were giggles from the class and a general feeling the film was boring.  Such sentiment today would be greeted with dirty looks from cinephiles.

I don’t even recall if she had shown us the full picture as class time didn’t often permit such long viewings.  I do remember being incredibly by awed by what I was watching.  It was high-grade science fiction like I had never seen before.  I was intrigued by the docking sequence and the use of a classical piece to accompany it (Johann Strauss’ indelible “The Blue Danube”.  I was mystified by the black monolith and wanted to understand its role.  Moreover, I was awed and inspired by this vision of space where advanced technology (both terrestrial and extraterrestrial) exists, space travel is frequent and easy and space is vast, beautiful and mysterious.  I didn’t really understand the film but sensed what I was seeing was something special.

Years later when I viewed the film again it was like seeing it for the first time.  To this day I still get chills during the docking sequence accompanied by “The Blue Danube”.  By setting space to classical music Kubrick makes us of think of elegance, sophistication, refinement and beauty.  Only Kubrick, the filmmaker who used Gene Kelly’s “Singin’ in the Rain” infamously in A Clockwork Orange, could think of this. Only Kubrick could think of ingeniously jump-cutting from the ape throwing the bone in the air to the space station.

The main reason I think 2001 continues to awe and inspire is it challenges us think, feel and imagine beyond the usual.  The very notion that a supercomputer like HAL-9000 can manage an entire space station and crew was probably a wild idea in 1968. In 2011 it sounds conceivable although I think such artificial intelligence is still decades away.  Also, 2001 cautions us that with advanced technology new wonders are possible but artificial entities like HAL can probably never replace human beings.  Much in the same way advances in cinema and CGI have the ability to push cinema creatively there is no other experience like 2001.  Kubrick showed us the apex of science fiction and reminded us of what pure cinema looks like.

Grow together

 The Tree of Life (2011)

Written and Directed by Terrence Malick

Original Music by Alexandre Desplat

Production Design by longtime Malick collaborator Jack Fisk

If you’ve seen any of director Terrence Malick’s (Days of Heaven, The Thin Red Line) films and didn’t care for them then there’s probably a fair chance you will not like The Tree of Life, but maybe you will gain respect and admiration for his craft.  The one thing that often divides Malick devotees from those indifferent to the director’s films is his cinematic language.  Like all of four of his films, Tree of Life is an exercise in show before tell, a love of nature, an examination of interpersonal relationships and a fondness for purity. More than anything Malick wants us to feel his picture.

In fact, The Tree of Life marks Malick’s movement towards the abstract and surreal.  Quite often Malick prefers to convey feeling through montage, facial expressions, subtle gestures or even the now famous creation sequence.  Just like his previous efforts it’s a film which could easily be reworked as a silent picture and not miss a beat – a very high compliment.  It’s also comparable to The Thin Red Line in its narrative approach but much more free and loose.  More than ever before Malick is less concerned with plot and more concerned with conveying feeling.

The first time I saw The Tree of Life was on its release date.  I was overwhelmed by the film’s brilliant imagery, its poignant score and its examination of the life of a family in a sleepy town in Texas in the 1960’s.  Malick’s focus on the three boys all close in ages and practically on the cusp of adolescence felt incredibly intimate, honest and relatable. Growing up the middle child of three boys I found myself relating to the joys and pain felt by the boys growing up.

Naturally, these boys grew up in a time when the father was the disciplinarian dishing out tough love.  Brad Pitt is superb as Mr. O’Brien or simply “father” or “sir” as he demands his sons to politely call him.  Mr. O’Brien believes anything is possible in life with a lot of hard work and a fierce will.  He demands they do what is right even though he doesn’t always fulfill his words to a tee because he wants them to be prepared to be the boss when they grow up.  The ethereal Jessica Chastain’s sweet and naïve mother is often the foil (sometimes to the chagrin of Mr. Obrien) to the boys’ father.  Her thoughts and inner feelings are expressed through her beautifully natural face. Together both parents find ways to make it all work.

Malick’s portrayal of life from birth to the boys’ late childhood is exceptionally moving.  The way he shows the early years of a child’s life could make a stone cry and the longest of faces smile.  Then Malick shows us the boys start to think for themselves, get into mischief, have difficulty coping with disappointment and finding themselves attracted to girls – it’s all there and Malick presents it all so tenderly and vividly.

There’s the bad – when one of the sons gets the gumption to tell his father to be quiet at the dinner table and Mr. O’Brien gets worked up in a rage and demands his son to leave the dinner table.  There’s the fun – when the boys get into the type of mischief that only boys can do and the proverbial schoolyard scenes Malick accompanies with a poignant piano piece.

Then there’s the irreplaceable.  Consider a scene in which the father, a once aspiring musician but now a plant worker, is playing the organ and he glances over to see his young son already excelling at playing the guitar.  The look of pride on the father’s face is priceless.  It’s something as a kid I could never grasp because I couldn’t see myself through my father’s eyes to see the love and pride he had when he saw me succeed.  Just as it meant everything to me to play sports well, it meant the world to my father to see me do well.

Much of the prerelease buzz over The Tree of Life concerned its lengthy creation sequence detailing the formation of Earth and existence and demise of dinosaurs. I’ve left discussion of this sequence to the end of this review because it compliments the story, rather than the story supplementing the creation sequence. The CGI visuals, of which Douglass Trumbull (2001: A Space Odyssey) had a part in, are spectacular to be precise, but naturally Malick’s hand maintains restraint and doesn’t let them veer into spectacle. I’ve seen The Tree of Life twice and I’m still processing my thoughts as to how this sequence and the story fit into place (Which is not a bad thing as the film has so much substance).  There’s also the present day urban skyscraper-set story of the eldest son Jack (Sean Penn) who’s recalling his childhood, his parents and the loss of one his brothers at a young age. Penn doesn’t need to emote because his face, his body language and Malick’s direction juxtaposing small town Texas with the steel and glass urban environment of Jack’s work environment are more than enough.

To be sure, The Tree of Life is not for everyone. One has to buy into Malick’s cinematic language from the start or be lost in the stream of memories, feelings and sometimes surrealism.  It’s also clear the film has a religious element but one’s faith shouldn’t prevent appreciation of this picture.  I think it’s much too soon to rank this film’s place within the Malick oeuvre, because it will no doubt be discussed and dissected endlessly in the years to come. All in all, Malick has never disappointed and The Tree of Life is no exception to this rule. ****

Everybody needs a purpose

Somewhere (2010)
Written and Directed by Sofia Coppola

There’s beauty in the way Sofia Coppola’s Somewhere unfolds. Its performances are brilliantly understated yet nuanced, its dialogue is natural and witty and Coppola’s patient direction always seems to make the right choices. The film is mostly subdued as its cadence is relaxing and never rushed. This is wonderfully illustrated in a scene in which the film’s main subject Hollywood star Johnny Marco (Stephen Dorff) sits, calmly breathes through his nose and waits for a special effects mold covering his entire face to dry. It’s incredibly serene as it’s such a departure from Johnny’s life.

Coppola’s first great move was the casting of Dorff as Johnny, the 30-something, black Ferrari-driving movie star who lives at the Chateau Marmont in his own La Dolce Vita—a life of booze, pills and readily available floozies (not the only subconscious homage to Fellini’s film). This is key as we don’t already attribute this lifestyle to Dorff, because frankly we’re not familiar with his career and he doesn’t seem to be in the tabloids much. Casting an A-list star would’ve resulted in a much different tone and possibly made the Johnny Marco character a caricature of another famous celebrity. This makes him more believable.

Johnny merely seems to be going through the motions of this rock star lifestyle and often looks bored (He falls asleep to the Shannon twins pole dancing in his hotel room!) and without a purpose. His drinking is frequent and his relationships with women are hollow and vapid—in fact, the only woman he can confide in is his ex-wife. Despite this we feel for Johnny because he is easy-going, likeable and generally good to people. Moreover, he’s chivalrous around his ex-wife and a decent father when he is around his daughter.

Elle Fanning’s performance as Johnny’s bright and well-behaved 11-year old daughter Cleo is very natural and quite believable. I applaud Coppola for not overwriting her character and making her overly precocious or resentful of her father. Instead, she loves her father and just wants to spend more time with him. Fanning’s best scenes are when she’s reacting to something or the expressions on her face when she’s hanging out with her father.

Consider the scene at the breakfast table in an Italian hotel when an ex-flame of Johnny’s is speaking and the camera pans to Cleo giving her father a look that says “I want to spend time with you, not some strange lady!” The beauty in this is the respect Coppola shows for her audience. A look is enough to convey Cleo’s thoughts so why use dialogue then cut to a drawn-out temper tantrum scene in the next scene? The audience is smart.

Despite the extravagances around Johnny, the time he spends with Cleo is in doing normal things that mean the world to Cleo. Somewhere really sparkles when  Johnny must take care of Cleo for an extended time because her mother had to go away without explanation. He takes her to the ice skating rink, they play Guitar Hero together, they go swimming, she cooks breakfast for him, etc. The rhythm of scenes is just right as Coppola always seems to know when to let a scene breathe and when to cut. Thankfully, she doesn’t cut during the film’s best scene—a sublime poolside zoom-out at the Chateau Marmont. There’s no dialogue, just the right music and the building realization of Johnny’s purpose.

My fear with Somewhere is it will not be seen by nearly enough people—at least initially. This is mainly because the film doesn’t have a huge star in any of its leads and Coppola’s direction, while excellent, unfortunately doesn’t appeal to the casual movie-goer accustomed to editing tailored for those with short attention spans. Those with patience will find much to admire in Somewhere and much to smile about as it may just be the best film they see this year. ****

"The only person standing in your way is you"

Black Swan (2010)

Directed by Darren Aronofsky
Screenplay by Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz and John McLaughlin

Thomas Leroy: The only person standing in your way is you.

I

t’s quite natural that a backstage drama about ballet draws comparison to Powell & Pressburger’s masterwork The Red Shoes.  Nina Sayers (future Academy Award winner Natalie Portman) is an emotionally fragile and apprehensive woman but one who is an incredibly devoted ballerina to her company—a perfectionist.  She is perfect for the role of the White Swan in “Swan Lake” but ballet director Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel) believes she lacks the passion and wild abandon required to also dance the part of the Black Swan.  Any more comparisons to The Red Shoes end here (for the most part).

More than anything, director Darren Aronofsky’s film evokes Roman Polanski’s psychological thriller Repulsion.  Much of what we see in Black Swan is from Nina’s terrifyingly distorted reality stemming from her inability to cope with the changes in her life after landing the prized role of Queen Swan in “Swan Lake”.  Aronofsky’s camera is almost entirely subjective in its use of a shaky over-the-shoulder point of view and a plethora of close-ups.

The Orson Welles school of thought on close-ups (of which I generally agree) is to use them very sparingly so when they are used they’re meaningful and dramatic.  Thankfully, Aronofsky doesn’t use them to remind the viewer he is the director.  He uses the close-ups to get the viewer into the head of Nina whose world consists of her apartment where she still lives with her mother (Barbara Hershey) and work – backstage and on the stage.  Aronofsky’s camera does well in showing Nina going to and from these places with blinders on, but because the film is so subjective we don’t always know what is real and this is what makes the film so terribly intriguing and gruesome at times.

The most fascinating of which is Nina’s relationship with rival dancer Lily.  The way Lily (Mila Kunis) seemingly provokes Nina is central to the film’s conflict.  Lily is loquacious and free-spirited. She smokes, arrives to work late and is on the prowl when she goes to a bar. She’s the antithesis of Nina and the White Swan, yet she tries to draw Nina out by being friendly and encouraging her to cut loose.  In reality Nina may just be trying to be friendly and encouraging but through Nina’s eyes we see her as someone trying to seize Nina’s part in “Swan Lake”.

Lily, along with Thomas are the two chief external forces (internal being Nina) influencing Nina’s paranoia.  Thomas is a brilliant ballet director but with a reputation of pushing his dancers by playing to their sexuality and taking advantage of them.  He made Beth Macintyre (a barely recognizable Winona Ryder) a big star then cast her aside when she was past her prime.  Thomas wants also wants Nina to cut loose.  Nina knows of Thomas’ reputation but realizes his direction is paramount to her success in “Swan Lake” so she puts up with some of his advances and lewd suggestions.

Lily, Thomas and Nina’s delicate psyche contribute to an absorbing narrative that fluctuates between reality and what is imagined by Nina--- which naturally gets increasingly more frightening.

The Ballet

The ballet in Black Swan is excellent although not spectacular. Portman should still be commended for her devotion to this role.  She was the ideal choice as she trained as a ballerina from age 4 to 13.  Portman’s dancing is very good despite the use of a double at times and Aronofsky’s reliance on medium shots in the ballet sequences.  Kunis also deserves praise for training five hours a day for seven days a week for three months to become a competent dancer.

* * * *