Before I Die #639: La Chienne (1931)

Director: Jean Renoir

A good, classic French movie that didn't really grab me until the third act.

La Chienne - English translation, "The Bitch," - takes place in 1930s Paris and mostly follows Maurice LeGrand, a rather quiet, reserved, and sensitive sad sack who works as a clerk for a hosiery company. He is married to a WWI widow, a battle ax of a woman who despises him, and he finds solace in doing humble paintings when he can. Coming home from a dinner with work colleagues one night, he runs across Lucienne and Andre in a fight. Lucienne, or "Lulu," is a rather dim-witted young woman who is constantly extorted and abused by the fast-talking pimp Andre, or "Dede." Maurice rescues Lulu in a rather timid way, and he strikes up a romance with her. Dede, ever the opportunist, convinces the hopelessly dependent Lulu to help him extort Maurice for everything he has.

The movie is not an easy one to watch, frankly. As my summary probably suggests, it features a trio of none-too-admirable characters at its center. And honestly, it is disheartening to watch the spineless Maurice get bilked by the shallow and dumb Lulu, who in turn is abused and exploited by the morally bankrupt Dede. There are very few redeemable characteristics to be found in the movie, even with supporting characters like Maurice's wife, who is a vicious person with nothing but unfounded contempt for her second husband.

So why do I say it's a good movie? Well, it all came down to the third act for me. It was at this point that the plot took an unforeseen turn that, while rather shocking, still felt organic rather than contrived. Not only that, but it turns on their heads several notions about the characters and the viewers' judgments of them. It's not that you completely rethink all of them, but you certainly have to think hard about whether there is any justice in the ways that their three lives turn out by movie's end. It put me in mind of the classic American noir novel, The Postman Always Rings Twice. That novel I found to be rather dull until the final chapters, in which things become wondrously existential and find a depth that one couldn't see coming for most of the story. La Chienne produces a similar effect, and this film came out several years before James M. Cain's hallmark novel.

There is also, of course, the pure cinema of the movie. I've now seen a few of Jean Renoir's films, and the man always showed a keen eye for the visual (not surprising, considering that his father was world-renowned painter Auguste Renoir). While La Chienne doesn't employ any especially dazzling technique, such as we see in Renoir's Beauty and the Beast or his Orphic Trilogy, there are more than a few brilliant-if-subtle frame compositions and angles which enhance the mood and narrative. I often find such things easier to discern in black and white films, so this was a treat for me.

It took the final thirty minutes for me to see it, but it's clear why this one is considered a classic. 

New-ish Release: Non-Fiction (2018)

Original French Title: Doubles Vies

Director: Olivier Assayas

This movie is, in a word, "French." A friend of mine has the belief that all French movies are 15 minutes too long, and Non-Fiction proves his point with gusto. It's compelling enough for most of its length, but then really takes an odd turn that undercuts many of the strengths of the first hour and a half.

The movie follows the lives of several French people, most involved in the literature business, politics, or acting. Their lives intersect in various ways: friendships, business and romantic relationships, the latter being through marriage or infidelity. As they meet and interact with each other, whether in pairs or larger groups, they discuss their relationships and their professional lives. Among the several professional themes, the primary one is that of the place and nature of novels in the modern world. One character, Leonard Spiegel (Vincent Macaigne), is an author of modest success who has come under repeated criticism for his use of thinly-veiled autobiographical relationships in his works of "fiction." His attempts to explain this to his wife and occasional mistress keeps him in hot water, all while he and his publisher reckon with the fact that physical books are a slowly-dying industry.

The movie is compelling enough to viewers like my wife and I - people who enjoy good literature and the arts to an extent. For much of the film, the characters hash out some of the complexities involved in those fields, and it does it all with a fair amount of heart and humor.

Expect plenty of conversations involving talented intellectuals,
wine, good food, and the smoking of cigarettes. In other words,
expect a French movie. 

But things become a bit too light and breezy by film's end. And the final ten minutes are almost baffling in their frivolity with not only the story but the entire nature of the film itself. There's a "meta" moment that is so clumsy and unimaginative that it renders nearly any weight that the film had previously carried useless. And despite the compelling romantic strife throughout the story, things end on a bizarrely sappy note.

Perhaps I was missing something. Maybe there was some wrinkle of satire or irony that I wasn't picking up, but the film's end really weakened so much of the rest of it. While I've only seen one of the director's other film - the absolutely brilliant The Clouds of Sils Maria - I was hoping for something a bit better. Despite strong acting and some intriguing intellectual subject matter, this one really dropped the ball at the end.

All that said, it was a fairly amusing movie. It sets up as a mostly light, humorous ensemble tale about artists in a changing modern landscape. I enjoyed it well enough for the most part, though I'll never feel the need to watch it again. 

Before I Die #622: Limite (1931)

This was the 622nd film I've seen out of the 1,199 movies on the "Before you Die" list that I'm gradually working my way through.

Translated English Title: Limit

Director: Mario Peixoto

An experimental, poetic film offering, I don't mind admitting that this one was a bit of a chore.

The "story" (a term which I use loosely) is that of three people - two women and one man - stuck on a small boat together, drifting on an unnamed body of water. The three are bedraggled and recollecting past moments in their lives. One woman is an escapee from a prison; the man's lover has died; and the third woman seems to have abandoned her husband. These stories are all told almost exclusively through slow, measured visuals, with very minimal dialogue. The characters have no names (they are credited only as "Man 1," Woman 1" and "Woman 2"), and no specific details as to time or place are offered. While the backstories of the characters are presented in what seems to be chronological order, even this is not completely clear, as several elements of the film are rather fluid.

Watching Limite was not unlike watching a couple of films from a little earlier in this era: the Bunuel and Dali collaborations Un Chien Andelous and L'Age d'Or. While Limite does not use anywhere near the amount of surrealism as either of those hallucinatory films, there is a dreamlike quality to it. There are plenty of long, slow shots of each of the three main characters as they stare into the distance and ponder their circumstances - circumstances which I could only assume are meant to represent more universal feelings of loss, longing, and desire. At times, I found the movie so measured in its pace that I was mentally drifting. Perhaps this is simply my late-20th/early 21st-century viewer's attention span at work, but I found that I wasn't being given quite enough narrative meat into which I could sink my teeth. The result was drifting attention.

There are plenty of scenes such as this - a lone figure, gazing
at the horizon, dwelling on some sort of existential crisis.

When things were in motion in the tale, however, there could be interesting aspects in terms of visual storytelling. I always appreciate any movie director who can tell stories without dialogue, and Limite shows this frequently. Granted, there's not exactly much of a "story," in the traditional sense. This isn't Sergio Leone brilliantly revealing characters' true natures through masterfully orchestrated, elaborate visual sequences. Rather, director Peixoto offers more subtle cues. A shared glance between people. A ring on a finger. A forlorn look at a tombstone. These moments are poignant and effective, even if less impactful because the characters are archetypes rather than "real" people.

For its time and place, it's easy to see why Limite made its mark. Like the aforementioned contemporary films by Bunuel and Dali, this was clearly meant as a work of art, rather than a mainstream story. It experimented with and pushed the boundaries of what the visual medium of film could do. For that, it is noteworthy, if not exactly enjoyable to watch for fans of more straightforward narratives.

That's 622 movies down. Only 577 to go before I can die. 

Retro-Trio: Two Days, One Night (2014); Kong: Skull Island (2017); In Her Shoes (2005)

Two Days, One Night (2014)

Directors: Jean-Pierre Dardenne, Luc Dardenne

Very well-done, human drama that relies on genuine distress to remain engaging.

The story is that of Sandra (Marion Cotillard), a woman in Belgium has just gotten over the hump of a horrible depressive episode. However, she just learns that she has lost her job due to a vote held behind her back. Her coworkers were forced to choose to either keep Sandra on the staff or to accept their sizable annual bonuses. She and a friend quickly appeal to the manager to hold a re-vote the following Monday, a mere two days away. Sanda much now frantically track down as many coworkers as possible and convince them to forego their bonuses so that she can return to her job - a job that she desperately needs.

This movie is certainly not an "upper" by any means. While there is just enough humor and levity to prevent things from getting overly grim, there is a very real sense of panic as Sandra rushes about on her desperate mission. This is, of course, what makes the film strong. As she speaks with each of her coworkers, we become invested in how they will respond. Some are sympathetic and offer to vote in Sandra's favor. Others try to be understanding but admit that they need their bonus money. Still others grow angry at Sandra for even asking them to give up their bonus for her sake. It is a very human drama where the stakes feel all too real, and the excellent acting sells its reality.

My wife, who tends to enjoy this kind of movie a bit more than me, even admitted that Sandra could get a bit much at times. Her husband, a rather kindly fellow who stays by her side through the particularly rough patches, becomes a quietly sympathetic character in the movie, as he offers no end of support. By film's end, one may grow a bit tired of the emotional ups and downs. Still, the ride is pretty well worth it, as it offers genuinely touching moments of the sort that can be tough to find in movies these days.

A few nights after watching this one, I felt the urge to go for nearly the completely opposite genre...

Kong: Skull Island (2017)

Director: Jordan Vogt-Roberts

Somewhat to my surprise, I enjoyed this movie, even though I'm not particularly a fan of monster movies.

The second in the newly-created "Monsterverse" franchise (the first being 2014's Godzilla), Kong:Skull Island takes place in the 1970s, as the U.S. begins to pull out of Vietnam. A tiny government agency (two guys, really) convinces a congressman to fund an expedition to a mysterious island in the South Pacific. The official Bill Randa (John Goodman) and the geologist Houston Brooks (Corey Brooks) believe that the unexplored island may contain bizarre lifeforms which the U.S. would do well to obtain before any of their Cold War enemies do. With funding, they round up a team including a tracker, several scientists and observers, and an Army platoon who has just been decommissioned from the Vietnam War. But when the crew arrive on the island, known as Skull Island, they very soon come across a massive, 100-foot ape which attacks them and wipes out several of their helicopters and soldiers. Now scattered, the team must try to regroup and find their way off of the treacherous Skull Island. As they wander, they discover more dangers and wonders about the home of Kong.

This movie is solid fun. Yes, it does attempt to get a tad serious in a few spots, but it never overdoes it. Mostly, it's a well-done action romp. The cast is great, with a ton of screen veterans like the aforementioned Goodman, and also Samuel L. Jackson as the warmonger platoon captain, Tom Hiddleston as the capable tracker, and slightly lesser characters played by vets like Brie Larsen and John C. Reilly. They don't always have super sharp dialogue to work with, but they almost always sell it well.

The action is mostly great. I'm not a particular fan of monster movies, but this one did a really nice job of keeping some surprises up its sleeve as the story went along. Mostly, the fun came when a seemingly serene part of Skull Island would suddenly turn into some sort of lethal monster. There is an entertainment in realizing that literally anything in the lush landscape could come to life and start killing the humans who have encroached here. Helping keep the vibe up-tempo and heart rates racing, this movie has one of the more kick-ass soundtracks I've heard in a while, with heavy metal and rock 'n roll greats from the early '70s like Black Sabbath, The Stooges, and Credence. Pretty hard to miss with such titans of great rock music enhancing the on-screen action.

So as of now, I'm on board with the Monsterverse. It's two-for-two in my book, which was much more than I could say for the big-budget DC Extended Universe after its first two movies, Man of Steel and Batman v. Superman. I may even go check out Godzilla: King of Monsters when it comes out in 2019, if I'm in the mood for a fun popcorn flick.

And then Valentine's Day came along, which swings me back in the complete opposite direction again with...

In Her Shoes (2005)

Director: Curtis Hanson

An enjoyable chick flick, even for a dude like me.

This is one of my wife's favorite movies, and Valentine's Day seemed like an appropriate time to watch it with her. It tells the story of two sisters, Maggie (Cameron Diaz) and Rose (Toni Collette), living in Manhattan. Maggie is a consummately irresponsible "party girl" and almost pathological liar, while here sister Rose is a highly responsible though rather uptight lawyer of no small means. The sisters have an established routine of Maggie getting herself into trouble, often through her drinking and/or lying, and running to seek shelter with Rose. This mildly codependent bond is shredded when Maggie is caught sleeping with Rose's current boyfriend and boss. Kicked out of Rose's apartment and with no other idea of where to go, Maggie hops a train down to Florida to find her and Rose's estranged grandmother, Ella (Shirley MacLaine). There, Maggie begins to learn more about their hidden family issues, while back up in Philadelphia, her sister deals with the fallout of her boyfriend having cheated on her.

It's easy to see why this movie is considered a pinnacle of "chick flick"-dom. It focuses on female characters, and it hits virtually every emotional mark that the genre is known for hitting; namely, relationships of several types. Relationships with one's sister. Relationships with potential boyfriends and husbands. Relationships with one's grandmother. Relationships with the family members who've gone missing. These are all handled very well in this movie, with a solid balance of humor and gravity that even a less sensitive fellow like myself can appreciate. The dynamics between the primary characters all feel quite genuine, and the parts are written and acted very well by the stars.

I also appreciate the tone of the movie. Many films in this genre are a bit too "light and fluffy" for me. I remember watching a chunk of My Best Friend's Wedding years ago, and being unable to stomach the contrivances and so-obviously cutesy nature of much of the story and gags. In Her Shoes keeps the stakes just high enough that there is some weight to the characters' thoughts and actions, while never getting too bogged down into any sort of darkness. This was not easy, as the movie does deal with learning disorder, mental instability in a parent, the need for Maggie to change her self-absorption, and similarly deeper topics. Screenwriter Susannah Grant did a really nice job adapting Jennifer Weiner's successful novel of the same name.

So I have to give this movie the highest compliment I possibly can for this type of movie: not only did I enjoy watching it, but I wouldn't mind watching it again should the wife suggest it. It's made the shortlist!

Before I Die #603: Napoleon (1927)

This is the 603rd movie I've now seen out of the 1,187 movies on the "Before You Die" list that I'm gradually working my way through.

Director: Abel Gance

Massive and quite captivating much of the time. This is saying something for a five-and-a-half hour movie.

I'll admit to "cheating" on this one a bit. I didn't watch the entire 320-minute film in one sitting. Rather, I watched it in roughly one-hour segments over six days. This was probably wise, as forcing myself to absorb the whole thing may have done it a great injustice. The movie's title gives you the subject - that titanic force of history, Napoleon Bonaparte. French director Abel Gance, who had created the epic drama La Roue a few years prior, took on arguably the most iconic figure of his country's illustrious history. The movie really covers key moments in the man's earlier life, between Napoleon's boyhood and the moment that he achieves his greatest victories in his Italian campaigns. The movie ends here, not getting into his actual rule of France or his eventual downfall and death in exile on the island of Saint Helena.

The movie is taxing in terms of length, but it is still impressive in many places and in many aspects. The most trying element for modern viewers is likely to be just how overly long some of the sequences extend. Storytelling in film would get far leaner and more efficient over the succeeding few decades, but back in 1927 it was still commonplace for action and battle sequences to go on for five, ten, or even twenty minutes longer than was necessary to make a point or tell a visual picture. Napoleon features many such sequences, which are not helped by the fact that the visuals are not always terribly crisp. Similar to what you find in other large-scale war movies of the time, such as Griffith's Birth of a Nation, certain scenes will be obscured by massive amounts of smoke billowing for long enough to simply frustrate rather than build a sense of place. Certain pursuit scenes also tend to drag in places, in particular a long chase scene in which Corsican government officials pursue a fugitive Bonaparte across the plains of the island. If one were to use modern editing to trim away the fat, this film could probably be a very tight 180 or 210 minutes, rather than the sometimes-bloated 320 in which it clocks.

Like the man he portrays in the film, actor Albert Dieudonne
(left) was small in stature, but could exude an imperious aura
through his posture and steely gaze.

Still, the length aside, I was impressed at many moments in the film. Most obvious was the performance of Albert Dieudonne as the diminutive general. Dieudonne was rather striking as the short but supremely intense, confident, and capable Napoleon, and he often did it with a subtlety rare for starring roles at that time. There are several scenes in which Napoleon shuts down detractors or insolent suboordinates by merely staring them down. This sounds trite, but the scenes actually work, even by today's standards. And while much of movie features Bonaparte carrying himself with the imperious carriage that we associate with the man, there are a handful of scenes and moments when his posture relaxes, typically around his lady love Josephine. The contrast in physical language was essential for the silent era, and Dieudonne did it expertly, without ever overselling it in the way that most of his contemporaries did.

I'm no expert on Napoleon, but I have seen a couple of solid documentaries on the man and read a little bit. This movie was obviously meant to be something of Gance's version of Braveheart for the French - a very rousing, nationalistic look at a powerful and, at certain points, unifying figure in France's history. As such, there are some rather obviously nationalistic elements to the story. Honestly though, now that we're over 200 years past Napoleon and nearly 100 years past this film's release, it is easy to take some simple pleasure out of such scenes. One in particular features Napoleon storming into a regional government office in the island of Corsica, taking the French flag, declaring that the selfish and bickering bureaucrats are not worthy of it, and then using the flag as a sail to flee them and return to the motherland. How do you not get some kind of enjoyment out of such bald-faced patriotism?

Apparently, this movie had languished and been considered somewhat "lost" for many decades, due to there being a lack of a high-quality print. That was recently rememdied when the British Film Institute released a very nice restoration of the entire thing. It is, however, still rather tough to find outside of the U.K. If one is so inclined, though, it is worth seeking out. Fans of film history are bound to appreciate more than a few things about this old epic. Just be ready for a bit of dead weight here and there.

That's 603 movies down. Only 584 to go before I can die. 

New(ish) Releases: Captain Fantastic (2016); Elle (2016)

Ben, leading his kids into a misguided adventure. As admirable
as much of Ben's philosophies and teachings are, the flaws
become more apparent as the movie progresses.

Captain Fantastic (2016)

Director: Matt Ross

Highly interesting and rather unique tale which allows the extremely versatile Viggo Mortensen to shine brightly.

Mortensen plays Ben, an ideologue of such extreme dedication that he has been raising his five children completely off the grid for nearly two decades. In the woods of the American Northwest, he leads his children go through regular training in order to sharpen their physical, mental, and spiritual health. They exercise vigorously, read classical and modern literature, engage in thoughtful and highly intellectual debates, and they exhibit the kind of empathy and concern that Ben sees ignored far too often by commercial America. At a glance, the family seems in many ways like a miniature example of the perfect commune. Much of this is thrown in disarray, however, when they learn that Ben's wife, the mother of the five children, has died. The circumstances around the death are not immediately clear, but it forces Ben and the kids to leave the forest and make a road trip back into the "real" world of modern conveniences and excess. As they re-enter this world, we start to see certain cracks in what at first seemed like a perfect little universe of Ben's and his wife's creation. This becomes especially apparent when Ben and the kids come into contact with Ben's in-laws, who have always found Ben to be a deranged and even abusive influence on their daughter and grandchildren.

Ben leads his kids during their rigorous, daily physical
training. In addition to working their bodies, he also works
their minds by having them read tons of high-end literature
and play instruments of their choosing.

This movie was surprisingly thoughtful and balanced, which is impressive given that it deals with a subject that can very easily get romanticized and be presented in extremely biased ways. The idea of raising one's children free of the avaricious nature of consumerism and any perceived problems of organized religion is noble, and one that more than a few people have attempted or fantasized over for decades. Could someone actually do such a thing, with the right attitude, work ethic, and genuine care for the children they are raising? Captain Fantastic initially paints an attractive portrait of someone's success in this arena. Simply seeing how it might be done is fairly compelling on its own, and the skills Ben's children exhibit are impressive, often because they raise very relevant questions about the current education system in the U.S. and people's attitudes towards what constitutes life's necessary lessons. How does one raise not just a knowledgeable person, but one who can think critically about how to be a "good" person?

While the educative themes explored in the movie are certainly thought-provoking, the dramatic element is also what provides us with the complexity that enhances the film. Once Ben and his children have to interact with mainstream society, we eventually see that his utopian vision for his children is in some ways unrealistic and in other ways downright negligent. Fortunately, by the end of the movie, we are not left with easy answers as to whether Ben's ways are completely correct or incorrect. Rather, we are left with a portrait of an extremely unique man and his children - one which can inspire in many ways but is clearly not meant as a manifesto for those tempted to run off and raise their kids away from the rest of humanity.

It's also worth mentioning just how excellent the acting is. There are many familiar faces in the film, but the primary actors - Viggo Mortensen and the five younger actors who play the children - are exceptional. Mortensen even got an Oscar nomination for Best Actor, which was completely deserved. He and the other performers did a great job in bringing this provocative, funny, and touching story to life. I highly recommend it.

Michele arms herself against future attacks. While she is clearly
a victim in several ways in this story, hers is a very complex
and often disturbing psychology. This despite her often calm
veneer as a successful, professional woman.

Elle (2016)

Director: Paul Verhoeven

Think of this as one of Pedro Almodovar's uncomfortable, controversial movies, but without the vibrant colors. Or much of the dark humor.

The story begins with a most awful act - a brutal rape of Michele LeBlanc (Isabelle Huppert) in the victim's home. Her assailant briskly leaves after this heinous violation, leaving Michele to pick up the pieces. Strangely, she does not call the police, but rather simply cleans up the broken glasses in the house, takes a shower, and goes to bed. She then continues the morning, going through her typical routine. Over the succeeding days, Michele's initial veneer of indifference shows signs of wearing down: she starts doing some simple detective work in order to try and learn the identity of her assailant. Along the way, we learn that Michele's father was a mass murderer who killed over 20 people when Michele was only 10 years old. He is also due for a parole hearing soon. All the while, lines between sex and violence become more and more blurred, especially once Michele discovers the true identity of her rapist.

Elle is a very well-done, calculating, and bold film very unlike any other movies I'd seen from director Paul Verhoeven, which include Robocop and Starship Troopers (he also directed Showgirls and few other glossy, campy good times). This film, though, is more akin to something I would expect from the aforementioned Almodovar, Stanley Kubrick, or perhaps even Lars Von Trier. Michele is, quite simply, not a terribly likable protagonist. For reasons that are not completely her fault, it is often painful to see her interact with her son, employees, mother, and even her lovers and closest friends. She is obviously smart and sophisticated, but she is also often distant, aloof, and calculating. While she is clearly the victim of the rape, her reaction to it is at first baffling. As the story progresses and we learn more about the horrors in Michele's background, her responses become a bit more understandable, but no less upsetting and disturbing. In short, she is complicated, which makes for an engaging tale.

The acting is incredible. Isabelle Huppert was rightly nominated for a Best Actress Oscar, as she displays the nuance that the character demands. She is clearly the show, and worth the price of admission. All of the other technical aspects of the movie are spot-on, with intense, almost crime-procedural segments broken up by slower, more thoughtful and sometimes more sinister scenes during which a viewer can find themselves getting pulled into the dark labyrinth of the mind of Elle and some of those around her.

As well-made as the film is, it is hardly one that I need to watch again. While it clearly tells the story it sets out to tell with excellence, it is a very disturbing one that I am not altogether comfortable subjecting myself to more than once. People who prefer more straightforward, black-and-white stories, where it is clear who the heroes and villains are will most likely not appreciate Elle. However, people who enjoy narrative and emotional complexity, and are not put off by highly uncomfortable situations, would do well to give this movie a shot. 

Before I Die #565: Pepe le Moko

This is the 565th of the 1,172 movies on the "Before You Die" list which I'm gradually working through.

Director: Julien Duvivier

To an average modern viewer, Pepe le Moko would be a good movie. When taken in the context of its release and the overall history of film, it's an incredible movie.

Taking place roughly around the time it was made in 1936, Pepe le Moko centers on the title character, a thief who is hiding out in the famous Casbah area of Algiers, Algeria. Pepe is, in many ways, the classic romantic rogue - handsome and charming, with just enough integrity to inspire devotion from many who meet him. However, he is also possessed of a deep sadness, and this is where the movie was well ahead of its time. While it is certainly engaging to learn about Pepe's skills as a thief and his powerful charisma, it is the deeper exploration of his psyche which made this movie so groundbreaking.

The film wears the veneer of a chase movie. The police force in Algiers have been unable to catch the elusive Pepe, and the government of France, the colonizers of Algeria, send in officials to oversee a more rigorous pursuit. Despite warnings from local officers familiar with the difficulties of the situation, the French attempt to bulldog their way into finding the notorious thief. Shifting between the center and the periphery of the investigation is Slimane, a seemingly-lazy local officer possessed of deceptive intellect, knowledge, and patience. It is the slow burn of watching Slimane work the problem of apprehending Pepe that makes this movie so far ahead of its time. Whereas nearly all films of that time (and the majority of films even today) rely on the drama of strong characters constantly duelling each other in dynamic and eye-catching ways, Pepe le Moko is more measured and assured. It is this slower pace which allows us to truly think about what motivates Pepe, and it becomes clear that it is more than simply money and women.

This still gives just a taste of how tricky the maze of the
Casbah can be, especially to those unfamiliar with its
twists, turns, and many, many dark shadows. 

Pepe le Moko is also a film about place. The locale of the Casbah is spectacular. Filmed on location, the movie depicts a neighborhood which is a fascinating labyrinth of multi-storied buildings, winding stairways, and bodies packed into the well-worn structures. It's a perfect setting for the tale of a thief who both uses the maze to retain his freedom and feels its constrictive nature. Casablanca, as great as it is, never comes close to creating the sense of locale as Pepe le Moko.

The resolution of the story is just as impressive as anything else about the movie. It avoids all of the tropes and typical cliches of weaker films. This was a great movie that I'm glad to have finally watched, after reading about it for so many years.

That's 565 films seen, only 607 more to go before I can die...

Gangster Flick 3-Pack: The Killing (1956); High Sierra (1941); Mesrine (2008)

The Killing (1956)

Director: Stanley Kubrick

An uneven but fairly compelling early work from a film master, and a rather uniquely dark caper movie.

The title of the movie refers to the slang term of making a large amount of money in a short time, as well as the more literal reference to murder. Both meanings are appropriate for this film. The Killing is a caper tale centered on a group who plan to rob a horse track of two million dollars. The head of the group, Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden), is the only professional thief in the group. The others are racetrack employees who, for various reasons, are looking to make a lot of money quickly. Clay plots out a very thorough and meticulous plan which requires expert timing. Once the plan starts to unfold, various hiccups begin to make things even harder than they already were, with Clay doing everything he can to execute his big score.

The movie takes a hard look at the brutal and dark consequences of crime, as do all of the very best noir  movies. All but one or two of the most minor members of the thieving crew are shown to be rather selfish, callous men whose greed or general weakness leads them into ever-more-foolish decisions. Unlike lesser crime films, The Killing does nothing to glamorize the thieves or their unsavory deeds. There is the compelling nature of the plan and its execution, as with all good caper movies, but this hardly overshadows the crew's dark motivations.

The primary distraction in this movie is the dialogue. Many of the characters are constantly spouting off tough guy lines in a rushed manner that spoke to some weak acting and uninspired scripting. This was especially disappointing considering that legendary crime fiction writer Jim Thompson wrote the script. Despite this, had I been watching this movie with someone else, we almost certainly would have been having plenty of good laughs at the abundance of silly, forced lines.

A lesser but rather obvious merit of the movie is the cinematography. This might not come as a major surprise, given that Stanley Kubrick directed this movie. Still, The Killing was his first major, full-length feature film. The then-only-28-year-old Kubrick was already showing his uncanny eye for striking camera angles, lighting, and using visual grammar to tell stories. This alone makes it worth seeing, as it is a very early but major step along a genius's path towards film mastery.

High Sierra (1941)

Director: Raoul Walsh

A compelling basic story buried within some painfully dated dialogue and acting.

I love Humphrey Bogart. While I haven't seen the majority of the many films he was in, I have seen around a half dozen of his best-known and best-loved movies. From these, it's easy to see why he became and still is a movie legend. With this in mind, I was excited to watch one of his relatively early starring roles in a crime movie. I have to admit some disappointment, however.

The story is actually the stuff of very strong noir. Bogart plays Roy Earle, a bank robber who has just been released from prison and is already setting up his next major score. The hard-boiled Earle came from a small town in Indiana, and he seems to have a tiny soft spot for small-town folks. This is clear when he comes across a farming family making its way out to California, whom he helps in several ways. Outside of his tender spot for such people, Earle is a rather severe man who does not suffer fools lightly, and will not hesitate to use violence if he feels the need.

One part of the story revolves around Earle's current big score - a jewelry heist arranged through an old associate of his. His partners in the caper are a couple of young, hot-blooded hoods who Earle dislikes but tolerates. The other part of the tale relates to Earle's relationships with two women; one is a young member of the farming family, and the other is a weary and jaded former dance girl. Seeing Earle try to juggle all of these aspects of his life is the real meat of the movie, and the story takes some turns which are intriguing in their unpredictability. I admire how the movie steered clear of a nice, pat, Hollywood ending.

Unfortunately, I had to work rather hard to maintain my appreciation. Even more than the above-reviewed The Killing, the dialogue and much of the acting in High Sierra have aged horribly. While there are some memorable lines, far too much comes right from the cheap, pulp "dime store hood" handbook. Bogart was a great enough actor that he could sell some of the dialogue better than his supporting cast, but even Bogie could only do so much. Also, the storyline involving the farming family is fraught with completely inorganic and illogical jumps. I feel that this movie served as an earlier, less balanced attempt at what director Raoul Walsh would do far better eight years later with the classic White Heat. I'll watch that latter picture again any time. High Sierra, however, is not one I'll ever return to.

Mesrine (2008)

Director: Jean-Francois Richet

Absolutely brilliant, if grim, biopic of a larger-than-life arch criminal.

Mesrine is the story of real-life French criminal Jacque Mesrine (pronounced "may-reen"), one of the most irrepressible, vicious, and public felons in the 20th century. Mesrine took to crime fairly early in the 1960s, after a stint in the French Army. He quickly became a noted burglar, bank robber, and violent thug with an appetite for women and high living. Though he made attempts at leading a "straight" life, they were few and relatively short-lived. For nearly all of his adult life, Mesrine was committing serious and violent crimes, eluding capture, being captured, or escaping from prison. A fair number of his exploits played out in the public eye, thanks to an image he created of himself which appealed to certain sects of the French masses.

Prior to watching this 2-film epic, I had no idea who Mesrine was, but I was fascinated. The movie urged me to look up some facts about the man, and it would seem that the film does not embellish his wild life. His story is told with a vibrance and energy found in some of the best gangster movies, such as Goodfellas or Bonnie and Clyde. The main difference with Mesrine, though, is that there is even less whitewashing of the man's most despicable actions. While it's made clear that Mesrine possessed good looks and charisma enough to seduce women, fellow criminals, and the French public at large, it doesn't balk at showing that he was also a brutal murderer who would torture or even kill anyone who offended his massive ego. The actions which play out on screen can be terrible, but I still found them compelling, given what an outsized persona Mesrine fashioned for himself.

A classic knee-capping, true to the violent nature of the title
character. It's so brutal that you might fail to notice just how
masterful the colors and  lighting of the scene are. This is
typical in these two movies.

The technical aspects of the movie are impressive. The set design and cinematography are first-rate, casting the ugly but oft-exciting world of Jacque Mesrine's life into a palatable light. The acting is also exceptional, with Vincent Cassel turning in a phenomenal performance in the title role. Some of the transitions between time periods can feel a bit rushed, which is surprising for a movie released in two parts and adding up to over four hours. This may just be a function of the sheer quantity of curious activities in which Mesrine invovled himself. The creators could probably have justified adding a tad more to it and making it a mini-series or a trilogy, if they thought anyone could stomach another hour or two of a rather detestable figure like Mesrine.

Mesrine is one of the darker, harder-hitting gangster movies one is likely to see. For those who enjoy well-executed dramatizations of very real and very frightening criminals, though, this movie is difficult to top. 

Before I Die #540: The Smiling Madame Beudet (1922)

This is the 540th I've now watched of the 1,162 films to see "Before You Die" list that I'm gradually working my way through.

Director: Germaine Dulac

It's a short, sharp little tale, and it's one that features a ton of early innovative film techniques.

The Beudets: one miserable wife and one oblivious husband.
If it weren't so short, this film would be a chore to watch for
most modern viewers. 

Clocking in at a very spare 26 minutes, The Smiling Madame Beudet tells the story of an intelligent middle-aged woman stuck in a loveless marriage. She escapes the drudgery of life with her boorish husband by daydreaming of a more glamorous life. Her husband is fond of playing a trite gag in which he will put an empty pistol to his head and pretend to be suicidal. One day, his wife puts a bullet in the gun, hoping for her husband to unwittingly kill himself. The story goes more from here, with a tragic twist.

The movie is far too short to become boring, and it is an interesting piece of early cinema. One reason is that it uses several early techniques such as overlap dissolve and other editing tricks to offer visuals which were rather novel for their day. A modern viewer will likely not be impressed, but it helps to keep in mind when the film was made.

Some research reveals that The Smiling Madame Beudet is also credited with being one of the earliest feminist films. Feminism in movies has evolved by leaps and bounds since 1922, especially within the last thirty to forty years, so this 93-year-old movie will not offer you anything new on that front. Still, this fact does cement its place in film history.

It's hardly a "must watch" movie, though real film history buffs will certainly appreciate much of it.

Thanks to the marvel of public domain, you can even watch it, legally, for free:

That's 540 films down. Only 622 to go before I can die...

Retro Trio: The Most Dangerous Man in America (2008); The Triplets of Belleville (2003); Cronos (1995)

The Most Dangerous Man in America: Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers (2009)

Director: Judith Ehrlich & Rick Goldsmith

I can't believe I had never heard of Daniel Ellsberg.

Maybe in the mid-1970s, his story was as huge as this film made it out to be. I'm not sure since I was hardly a twinkle in my pop's eye at the time. Whatever the case, this documentary lays out a fascinating tale of personal, internal conflict that has ramifications that reach the highest magnitude.

The original TIME magazine cover that
contained one of the biggest stories
of the 1970s.

The short version is this: Ellsberg was a brilliant strategist and former Vietnam vet who worked for the Pentagon for a number of years. He basically supported the presidential regimes under which he had worked, somewhat blindly faithful that he was doing the right thing. Then, he got the keys to the secret documents. Once he found out exactly what past and current presidents had known and still knew, he started to doubt everything he had previously believed.

Ellsberg's personal struggles are engaging enough on their own. When they are told within the context of a United States in some serious turmoil, they take on much grander significance. This documentary, though now six years old, has timeless themes. By looking at exactly when a person should start to take personal responsibility for wrongdoing, even if it may be a small part of a wrong, this documentary is just what the genre is all about.


The Triplets of Belleville (2003)

Original French Title: Les triplettes de Belleville

Director: Sylvain Chomait

It's weird and I loved it.

All you have to do is look a still frame from the movie to realize that this is not your typical animated film. The visual style is very quirky, and even jarring at times. Once you start watching, you realize that the film itself is just as idiosyncratic and skewed. The oddity that runs the course of the film is certainly amusing enough, but I'm not one who enjoys oddity for its own sake.

The grandmother and the dog, hot on the trail of their
beloved cyclist grandson. Two of the most endearing
characters you're likely to ever see in a film.

What I enjoyed so much about this movie is how the oddity adds an exotic spice to what is, at its most basic, a traditional tale of love, loss, and recapture. It's the details, though, that are hilariously strange. And there are countless little details to absorb. An old Portuguese woman living in France raises her grandson to be a competitive cyclist. He competes in the Tour de France, but when he falls far behind the leaders, some extremely strange things begin to take place. His supremely dedicated and stubborn grandmother winds up dragging their obese dog along on an odyssey to find the boy, running into no end of bizarre characters along the way.

The best thing? There is no real dialogue to speak of for the length of the 89-minute film. Sure, there are sound effects, music, and some grumbles and gutteral noises made by the characters. But mostly, it is all visual storytelling and humor, from start to finish. This is something that is difficult enough to do for five or ten minutes. To do it for a full, feature-length movie is the very reason the medium exists.

For an animated movie, I doubt that very young children would like all of it, though many would enjoy some of the sillier moments, especially with the dog. Anyone else who has an appreciation for the slightly peculiar and isn't too proud to watch a cartoon as an adult should give this one a watch. It's undoubtedly one of the most unique animated movies you will ever see.

Cronos (1993)

Director: Guillermo del Toro

I'm not exactly a del Toro "fan," but I've certainly enjoyed several of his movies. I really enjoyed the Hellboy films, and I thought Pan's Labyrinth was captivating. Pacific Rim was fun, even if I didn't geek out over it like many people did. I even thought that his earlier film, The Devil's Backbone, was a really novel story that showed some excellent technical skill and narrative creativity.

The kindly Jesus Gris inspects the cronos device, sending
him down a dark and tragic path along which his
granddaughter is courageous enough to follow him.

Going back and watching Cronos, del Toro's very first feature film, was mildly interesting. It's a vampire story unlike any that I've come across. An old antique dealer, Jesus Gris, comes across a statue that encases an intricately-decorated gold scarab. In examining it, the device activates several blade-like appendages which cut into and draw blood from Gris. Soon, Gris learns that the device, known as the "cronos device," was the work of an alchemist in the 16th century. The cronos contains some form of vampiric insect, which not only sustains itself with human blood, but conveys the same immortality upon its host. Thus, Gris begins to show symptoms of vampirism. This is ghastly enough, but also seeking the cronos are an uncle/nephew duo, the former of whom is seeking a cure from a terminal illness.

As with several of his films, del Toro inserts a young child into a place of prominence, which adds an atypical perspective on a horrific set of circumstances. In this case, it is Jesus Gris's granddaughter, whose love for her transforming grandfather becomes his only link to his mortal life. This is the real novelty of the film. Also impressive is the prowess of the cinematography, given that the budget of the film was clearly limited.

Cronos is not a great movie, but it's a decent enough one that gave several strong indications that its creator would be capable of far more when given more resources. 

A Prophet (2008)

Director: Jacque Audiard

Now this is a little more of what I was hoping for from Gomorrah a few weeks ago.

A Prophet tells the story of a young Arab, Tarik, who gets a 6-year prison sentence in France for refusing to rat out a few other criminals. During those six years, he goes from terrified and abused kid to savvy, educated master criminal.

A young Malik, preparing himself to take a life in order
to save his own. This is just the first of many steps he
takes along an ever-darker road towards first his survival,
and then his dominance.

The story of Malik is completely gripping and uniquely tragic. One could look at it as a much more masterful, thoughtful, realistic, and far less sensational version of Brain de Palma's Scarface. Malik goes into prison as a man on his own: no friends or family to speak of, and no connections to anyone in the criminal world. He is a quiet, reserved young man who merely wants to serve his time and avoid trouble. Of course, prison rarely affords people such luxury. Once the powerful Corsican mob see Malik as a pawn they can use to further their own ends, a cycle begins that completely transforms him in every way.

The movie offers all of the tension that you might expect or hope for from such a story. Malik fights for his life at several turns, avoiding death at the hands of the Muslim and Corsican inmates, none of whom ever fully accepts him into their tightly-cloistered groups. He has to rely on his own observations, cunning, and intellect. This in itself is engaging enough, given how precariously close to death he teeters at several junctures. Some of the life-or-death tension is built slowly and insidiously, as when Malik resignedly marches towards having to assassinate another inmate or be killed himself. Others stem from the constant derision poured on him by the Corsican mobsters who hold Malik's fate in their petty hands.

Malik, after several years in prison, talking with the
Corsican mobster who he initially must obey, but
gradually seeks to overcome. 

As severe as all of this sounds, the movie is not without humor. Granted, it's nothing quite so overt as the interactions you see in The Shawshank Redemption, with the ever-comforting Morgan Freeman there to lighten the mood when necessary, but A Prophet provides earthier, quieter moments of levity. Whether it's Malik getting a hold of porno movies, or his playful talks with the lone friend he makes in prison, there is just enough to lighten up an otherwise extremely intense story.

I can't recommend this movie highly enough to anyone who likes crime and/or prison movies. It may be a little grittier than the most popular examples of the genre, but it's a brilliant story told by expert filmmakers. 

FIlm #92: Leolo (1992)

Director: Jean-Claude Lauzon

Initial Release Country: Canada

Times Previously Seen: none

Rapid-Fire Summary

In a Montreal, Quebec slum, twelve-year old Leolo Lazone is steeped in misery. His family is impoverished, and all of his relatives suffer from some form of severe limitation. His brothers and sisters are all either mentally challenged or lapse into insanity on regular bases. His loving but completely uneducated parents obsess over their children’s bowel movements, and his grandfather not only tries to kill Leolo, but is also a sexual deviant.

While there is no true physical escape for Leolo from his warped environment, he is able to escape within his mind. Through a little bit of reading and a lot of his own writing, he concocts various tales about his own origins and the people around him. Envisioning himself as the son of an unknown Italian, he constantly dreams of being on the gorgeous Italian coast with his beautiful neighbor, Bianca. It is with similar imagination that he deals with the extremely strange behavior of his family and the ways that it affects him.

Leolo in two of his refuges - the bathroom and his writing. The noose around his neck can certainly be seen as a not-too subtle symbol of his life circumstance.

Eventually, the final straw is placed. After attempting to kill his perverted and unstable grandfather and bearing witness to one too many distorted sexual acts around him, Leolo finally snaps. He becomes catatonic and is placed in a mental institution, presumably for the rest of his days.

My Take on the Film

I’ll never watch this movie again.

Don’t take that completely the wrong way. Leolo is, indeed, unique and shows a wealth of skill on the part of writer/producer Jean-Claude Lauzon. In reading a brief summary like mine above, it will seem that the movie has little more than depravity and depression to offer a viewer. This is certainly not the case, but these dour themes are what I ultimately take away from the film.

For a good part of the movie, Leolo actually keeps just to the right side of the line between darkly humorous and simply dark. During the earliest scenes, depicting a very young Leolo being forced by his delusional parents to ingest laxatives and defecate on command, one is almost overwhelmed by how repulsive, desperate, and hopeless his situation is. Yet, once he begins to twist his surroundings into his own imaginative reality, some welcome levity is added. Seeing his pathetically dull older brother go from the classic “90 pound weakling” to a muscle-bound body builder is rather amusing. Also, his regular trips to the psychiatric ward to visit his other family members as they enter and exit various stages of psychosis provide some humorous moments.

One of the somewhat lighter moments in the film - Leolo (middle) about to be hurled into the sea by his brother (left) and an accomplice, so that he can retrieve fishing hooks to be resold.

Still, by the end of the film, there is nothing left at which to laugh. Once his siblings have all gone thoroughly insane and Leolo bears witness to a wretched act of bestiality by one of his peers, the little boy joins his brothers and sisters in their inescapable states of catatonia. For me, at this point, any of the lighter moments from earlier in the film had ceased to have much meaning. While Leolo’s fertile and active mind had given some entertaining and touching attempts at escape, they are all for naught in the end.

Another lesser problem I had with the film is that it is not exactly as original as one would believe, reading many of the critical reviews. One of the more notable scenes, in which the adolescent Leolo explores his sexuality with liver (no, that is not a typo – it is just the kind of thing that this film offers), is actually ripped off from Philip Roth’s novel Portnoy’s Complaint. More generally, the graphic nature of the sordid, impoverished sexuality is something that I have seen in other films such as Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in America. And so, there was not even some sense of “bravura” novelty to be taken in.

I must say that the visuals are stunning in the film. The technical merits are laudable, and there is a wealth of clever framing and shooting. The contrasts between Leolo’s stark reality and his vibrant imaginings are made very clear through the camera work and frame compositions. In many scenes, the film is pleasant to look at. However, once again, there are many scenes in which the actions taking place are repugnant enough to undermine an appreciation of the aesthetic skill.

Leolo finds warmth and refuge in this makeshift shelter with his sister. The soft glow of the candles is captured extremely well and conveys the sense of comfort.

On a final note, this film brought to mind a few other, more recent pictures – Terry Gilliam’s Tideland and Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth. Tideland tried to pull a very similar trick, telling the story of a young girl in absolutely miserable circumstances (drug addict parents who both die of overdoses) who copes by envisioning an entire fantasy world around her. Alas, like Leolo, Gilliam failed in my mind, and the story is just far too depressing to be overcome by some bright visuals. Pan’s Labyrinth, on the other hand, actually succeeded. The overall tale is arguably just as downbeat as Leolo or Tideland, but del Toro managed to find the right balance and leave the viewer with the right amount of sweetness to accompany the bitterness.

I would only recommend Leolo to those who are not put off by extremely depressing movies. If such themes do not bother you, you may very well find this movie one of the more creative and engaging of its type. To me, though, one viewing was plenty.

That's a wrap. 92 shows down. 13 to go.

Coming Soon: Farewell, My Concubine (1993):

Don't know much about this one, except that it has the look of a rather sad tale. This will make number 2 in the "depresso 1-2-3 punch" of current films for me, preceded by Leolo and succeeded by Schindler's List. I'll be mixing in some Farrelly brothers movies, just to maintain some kind of balance here. 

Film # 77: Mon oncle d'Amerique (1980)

Title for us English-speaking Types: My Uncle from America

Director: Alain Resnais

Initial Release Country: France

Times Previously Seen: none

Teaser Summary (No spoilers.)

In 1970s France, three people’s lives intertwine in ways that give each of them anger, joy, confusion, frustration, and depression. Not all in that order.

Extended Summary (Longer plot synopsis)

In 1977 France, Rene Ragueneau (Gerard Depardieu) is a manager of an agricultural company, which is a subsidiary of a larger corporation. He was raised on a farm, but studied hard and broke away from his conservative, close-minded family. He is married with two daughters. One day, his corporation informs him that he will be observed and assisted by someone from the corporate office. This new supervisor watches Rene like a hawk, criticizing the many outdated methods that his factory and warehouse use. The criticism leads to anxiety and ulcers for Rene. The main corporation decides to move Rene to a different branch of the company, one that will create ready-to-wear fashions and be far away from his family. With little choice, he must move away from them and pursue this field in which he has no experience.

Rene, frustrated by his family's conservative, narrow-mindedness, vents his frustration before he leaves them for good.

In Paris, Jean Le Gall (Roger Pierre) leads his life as the head of the news branch of the government. Raised by stern, educated and driven parents, Jean is quite successful and has plans to climb further up the political ladder and run for office. He is married to a passionate and devoted wife, though his own passion for her has waned. He coldly leaves his wife one day to begin an affair with Janine Garnier (Nicole Garcia).

Janine is somewhat younger than Jean, and she is from a very different background. Raised by parents with strong communist leanings, she eventually had yearnings for the stage. She got a break and performed the lead role in a hit play, which is how she met Jean. She and Jean continue their affair for a short time, though Jean has bouts of crippling kidney stones. Eventually, Jean’s wife shows up at Janine’s apartment and demands that she allow Jean to return home to his family. Janine relents and has Jean leave, though her complete reasons are not totally clear.

Two years pass. Jean takes a brief trip to a small island that his family owns, just off the French coast. He runs into none other than Janine. In catching up, we learn that Jean’s wife had told Janine that she was deathly ill, in order to get Janine to let Jean go. Janine embraces Jean, at first hoping to renew their passion, but leaves frustrated when Jean does not return the sentiment.

Jean and Janine, two years after their initial tryst. Janine attempts to rekindle the flame, but is snubbed.

Not far away, two years into his “new” position, Rene is once again in a bit of a bind. While he has had some success in the fashion branch of his corporation, he is flagging a bit. Two corporate executives come to see him, one of them being none other than Janine, who has found a steady job in fashion after leaving the stage. Rene is informed that his management has been lacking and that his responsibilities will be lessened. Taking this as a great insult, Rene storms off into his room and attempts suicide.

Just after Rene’s suicide attempt, Janine races off to confront Jean’s wife about her lie. In finding her, it doesn’t take long for Janine to realize that she has no great argument, as Jean’s wife did what was necessary to keep her family together. Still frustrated, she runs off and finds Jean. He, too, agrees that his wife did the right thing, which leads to more helpless agitation from Janine. Jean and Janine begin to grapple in a wrestling match of frustration.

Back in a hospital room, Rene recovers to find his wife and children there. His wife embraces him, merely glad that he is alive.

Spanning the entire course of the stories of Rene, Jean, and Janine, is the running commentary of real-life behavioral psychologist Professor Henri Laborit. Through exposition and interspersed visual experiments, he describes evolutionary psychology in ways that are exhibited by the three main characters’ stories.

Take 1: My Gut Reaction (Done before any further research on the movie)

I had to sleep on this one a bit.

After watching Mon oncle d’Amerique and then sleeping through the night, allowing the film and its many facets to sink in, I realize that I think it to be excellent. If you were to simply read the plot summary, it would probably seem rather boring. One could see the three interweaving stories of Rene, Janine, and Jean as such, but it is the telling of the tale through the cinematic medium that is the wonder of the film.

Firstly, the three stories of the main characters are actually plenty engaging. Rene’s struggles to maintain his family and self worth, Janine’s attempts at following her youthful passion and attempts at rebellion, and Jean’s quest for social renown and sexual satisfaction are all very real and human dramas. These dramas are portrayed brilliantly by the actors, so that every bit of their pain, happiness, and confusion comes through.

The dutiful and loving Rene, suffering from ulcers. His physical and emotional pains, along with those of the other two main characters, are cast into a scientific light within the context of the film.

However, this film’s revolutionary power comes from things far beyond the personal dramas and acting. The entire framework and telling of the tale gives this movie a highly intellectual quality that may turn off many viewers, but which others will find incredibly absorbing. The movie starts with short, still images of abstract shapes from nature, such as rocks, bricks, and water. A narrator introduces the three main characters, giving brief biographies of each of them, starting from the circumstances of their births while beginning to explain certain basic evolutionary principles of the natural world. These initial minutes seem like the absolute worst and most pretentious aspects of the type of snooty, pretentious European movie that many audiences love to ridicule and parody. But, if you hang in there, a brilliant structure beings to emerge.

Within about 20 minutes, we have a solid understanding of Rene’s, Jean’s, and Janine’s backgrounds and see some of the seminal moments in their lives. As this goes on, the narrator beings to add more general, modern discoveries about human psychology, citing experiments with lab mice and their reactions to pleasure and pain stimuli. When you start to pay close attention, the behaviors exhibited by the mice can be seen in the behaviors of Rene, Jean, and Janine during the two year period that consists of the bulk of the movie. And the similarities between the tiny rodents and the humans grow clearer.

Once the primary tale is in full swing, the psychologist/narrator steps back quite a bit, and we are allowed to immerse ourselves in the three protagonists’ lives. Their interactions further demonstrate that, as complex as the human mind is, there are still some very basic mechanisms at work. Now, some might write it all off as very reductionist, and this argument may have merit, but it doesn’t make the movie any less interesting to me.

Regularly throughout the movie, we see experiments with mice, looking upon how they react to pain stimuli. It's not hard to see the correlation with the reactions of Rene, Jean, and Janine.

In watching the movie, two films in particular came to mind. The first was a predecessor, the 1966 Ingmar Bergman film, Persona. In construction and themes, Mon oncle d’Amerique seems to borrow from Bergman’s very personal tale about people’s basic mental states feeding into and off of one another. Persona also opened and closed his movie with choppy, vague visuals that only make more sense once the entire film is viewed. The other film that came to mind is the much more modern Adaptation, written by Charlie Kaufmann and directed by Spike Jonze. This is another film that creatively and artistically draws connections between the fundamental rules of natural order and the most basic human physical and psychological needs and desires.

Comparing and contrasting these three similar films is an interesting exercise. The earliest, Persona, is dead serious in its presentation. It was an exorcism of pain and frustration by Ingmar Bergman, and it comes across as such. Adaptation, on the other hand, is as much comedy as human drama. Its message is still deep and heartfelt, but there are plenty of great laughs along the way. Mon oncle d’Amerique splits the difference a bit, leaning much more towards the serious end. There are, however, several great humorous moments and visuals, including scenes in which human-sized mice re-enact some of the actions of Rene, Janine and Jean, even wearing their clothes at times. These little moments do take the edge off a bit, and prevent the movie from becoming too overbearing.

One of several surreal and blessedly funny depictions of the human characters as their rodent counterparts in the lab experiment. The only thing is, the lab is actually their lives. 

I would recommend this movie to anyone who enjoys thoughtful, somewhat challenging films that can hold your attention and make you think deeply. If you go in realizing that you will see something akin to a documentary, you will be well-served. Mon oncle d’Amerique is fiction, but it does something that really cannot be done in reality – an observational study of the most key moments in the lives of a few people.

Take 2: Why Film Geeks Love This Movie (Done after some further research.)

Somewhat unsurprisingly, there’s not a ton of analysis to be found out there in the World Wide Web. Even though this film has been roundly praised by critics ever since its release (it won the Grand Prix at Cannes), we over here in U.S. tend not to embrace high-minded French movies that don’t follow standard film conventions. At least, most of us don’t. So, it’s not surprising to find that, not only is this movie not available on Netflix, but it is also out of DVD print and relatively difficult to get. For all of these reasons, very few people have even heard of it. It’s a shame, really.

Of course, we can rely on professional film critics to be up on any film of note. As I often do, I found a solid write-up done by Roger Ebert at his site here. He brings up some of the things that I noticed, and of course points out several things that I either missed or did not include in my review. The interesting thing is that, in the middle sections of his review, Ebert himself almost gets lost in the grander philosophies and ideas in the movie. This is a good thing. Ebert knows this is a good thing, and credits the film with inspiring such cogitations.

I have to say that, like very few movies in the world, Mon oncle d’Amerique is one whose merits are best observed and not merely read about. One can grasp the basic academic themes from reading reviews like this one, but until the movie is seen, it is all but impossible to see just how skillfully the different parts link together. Just heed this caveat: if you do not like high-minded films that force you to think far beyond the human drama tale that plays out on-screen, you probably won’t enjoy this one. If you’re into somewhat demanding films that will stay with you for days, months, and probably years afterwards, you will not be disappointed with this one.

That’s a wrap. 77 shows down. 28 to go.

Coming Soon: Berlin Alexanderplatz (1980)

This one will take a while. It was a made-for-TV adaptation of a rather large novel. The thing is over FIFTEEN HOURS LONG!! By the time I actually post this review, I hope to be a good ways into it, so come on back in a week or so to see what I make of it.

Please be sure to pick up all empties on the way out.

Film #71: La nui americaine (1973)

Title for us English-speaking types: Day for Night

Director: Francois Truffaut

Initial Release Country: France

Times Previously Seen: none

Teaser Summary (No spoilers)

A director deals with the endless technical and emotional chaos on the set of his current picture. 

Extended Summary (A more detailed plot synopsis, including spoilers. Fair warning.) 

France, 1973. Noted film director Ferraud (Francois Truffaut) is trying to get his current project up and running smoothly. Well, as smoothly as possible for a film. The financial backing is imposing stifling deadlines, the script is in constant flux, and the cast and crew have brought all of their emotional baggage with them. The film the Ferraud is attempting to make, May I Introduce Pamela, involves a young man bringing his new bride home to meet his parents, only to have her and his father fall in love and leave the rest of the family.

As emotional as this fictional tale might be, it pales in comparison to more immediate concerns of the cast and crew trying to bring the story to life. Ferraud must deal with almost no end of troubles. Each member of the cast either has gone through, is going through, or is trying to recover from some sort of depression or mental fatigue. The lead actress, Julie (Jacqueline Bisset) is returning from a hiatus to recover her mental health. The young actor Alexandre is an emotional juvenile whose neediness and jealousy knows almost no bounds. The elder supporting actress, Severine (Valentina Cortese), is in the full grip of alcoholism and struggles to so much as remember her lines. Add into this the little quirks and difficulties of the crew, from the script co-writer right down to the lowliest prop man, and Ferraud has his hands both full and tied.

It takes an army. Virtually everyone in this shot either loves, hates, has slept with, and/or will sleep with someone else in this shot. Maybe multiple someones. 

The greatest tests come near the end of filming. First, Alexandre’s girlfriend, the older and more worldly Liliane, leaves him for a British stuntman. This leads to Alexandre sleeping with his co-star Julie, much to the chagrin of Julie’s real husband. Just as all of this gets sorted out, one of the other key actors, Alphonse, dies in a car accident. Despite the insanity and tragedy, Ferraud manages to see the film through to its end. As shooting wraps up, the cast and crew part ways, though many of them clearly expect to see each other on projects. As strange and chaotic as it seems to most, this is the life they choose.

Take 1: My Gut Reaction (Done after this first viewing, before any further research.) 

Day for Night is an enjoyable, extremely well-constructed film that I probably don’t need to watch again. In a style similar to some of Robert Altman’s more renowned movies (M.A.S.H., Nashville, and especially The Player), Francois Truffaut decides to give us a panoramic view of the insanity surrounding a film set. I suppose some people see the subject matter as being self-important and self-aggrandizing, but Day for Night certainly doesn’t come off that way. The interactions between the characters is far often far too playful to be mistaken for pretension on Truffaut's part.

Director Ferraud instructing Julie on exactly how to hold her hands. Day for Night is full of such minutiae of film-making. It's actually fascinating. 

There is no way that I can avoid comparing this movie to its chief forebear: Federico Fellini’s 8 ½ . If looking at a brief treatment, it may seem as if Truffaut pirated Fellini. Both films are about making a film, and both convey the maelstrom surrounding the endeavor. Fellini, though, focused much more on the fantastic inner mental workings of the director-as-artist. Truffaut’s Day for Night takes in the entire scope of the project, not giving too much time to any one person, only delving slightly into a few characters’ minds. The only other clear similarity is that both films expertly achieve what they wish.

As mentioned, there are some graver moments and themes in the movie, such as Severine’s waning ability and waxing alcoholism. But this is tempered by her generally amiable demeanor. There are also Julie’s recovery from depression and her affair with Alexandre, as well as Alphonse’s sudden and tragic death. These, as upsetting as they may be, are quickly resolved and the film, just as the crew in the film, moves on. We viewers are given little more than a few brief moments to feel any lingering pain before being swept away by the inertia of the film-making process and lifestyle. Truly, the show must go on.

Technically, the film is brilliant. While there are no special effects to speak of, the cinematography pulls off plenty of great little maneuvers to draw the eye. To add a layer, you are often getting to look behind the curtain of filming, as we see plenty of the wild and contorted techniques that the May I Introduce Pamela cameramen have to employ to achieve the desired shots. At times, it’s like watching gymnasts do magic tricks in the middle of their routines.

One of the many shots that's not only eye-catching but also pulls back the movie magic curtain a bit. 

On par with the visuals is the acting. Every person plays their part perfectly, from the highly emotional and quixotic actors to the earthier and more practical crew members. Even Truffaut, playing himself in spirit, if not in name, does admirably. The key is that virtually all of the characters are either intriguing, funny, tragic, or a compelling combination of all three. In this, Day for Night taps into the voyeurism that is at the core of the appeal of cinema. We want to watch what all of these people do with and to each other.

All of this being said, I doubt that I will ever watch the movie again. As much as I enjoyed it and can see its strengths, I simply don’t know what I could get out of a second viewing. Hardcore film experts and budding film-makers could probably milk it for endless inspiration and knowledge, but I’m neither. I’d recommend it to anyone who enjoys learning about the filming process and enjoys a healthy dose of oft-light drama and humor. It’s also a great little follow-up to the aforementioned 8 ½ .

Take 2: Why This Movie’s Considered “Great” (Done after a wee bit o’ research.) 

A very wee bit.

It would seem that this movie has gained its praise for the sheer love of film that it conveys. Roger Ebert revisited it in this 1997 review, and he expresses a lot of the enjoyable elements of it well. He points out how the film shows how all of those involved in the film industry, creators, actors and crew alike, are often inebriated on the culture of the filming process. The quirky, high-drama relationships that develop and then dissipate over the course of a few weeks of filming seem as a drug. I suppose it should be no surprise that film critics, almost all of whom must truly love the medium of film, would love such a movie. It taps into their own passions, so a playful, thoughtful, and entertaining movie on the subject is bound to be adored by the professional critics. Day for Night fits the bill.

After this little bit of digging, I feel that Day for Night is a touch overhyped. Compared to nearly all of the other movies on this list, including Truffaut’s own 400 Blows, Day for Night I feel is considered great more because of its subject matter rather than any standout novelty. I do think that viewers who are looking for something a little different and humorous would enjoy it, but perhaps shouldn’t expect the mind-blowing movie that you may expect from an “All-TIME 100 Film”. 

That’s a wrap. 71 shows down. 34 to go.

Coming Soon: Chinatown (1974):

The classic film noir genre gets brought up to date in this slick 1970's Roman Polanski classic. This film kicks off a great streak of 1970s movies in the coming weeks that are some of my absolute favorites. Come on back for my take on it.

 Please be sure to pick up all empties on the way out.