Recently Watched Films 2020

[Dan Warburton]

James Benning, Stemple Pass, 2012

https://glasstire.com/2013/04/18/decodi ... s-benning/

Four shots, one for each season, each lasting 30 minutes, of Benning's plywood reconstruction of the cabin in the wilds of Montana where Ted Kaczynski aka the Unanbomber masterminded his sixteen-year campaign of postal bomb terrorism. Each segment begins with Benning reading from Kaczynski's notebooks (one of which he decoded himself) and infamous manifesto. The story is probably well known to you (if not https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ted_Kaczynski) and the film is stunning. Fine review too, but watch the film. Excellent in every way.

[henriq]

I'm with you on the above, though I still wince when I hear how "Gloomy Sunday" gets butchered. Seen this three times now, and it gets better every time. Walken's finest hour? Discuss.

Yes of course, Frank White! Awesome, not least for the fact that David Caruso gets all and only what he deserves:



And you can believe I ran straight out and got the Schoolly D record. Still have it. "They're for the bullet holes, puta!"

And yes, I think that these two are among Walken's absolutely finest moments. He really has a hard time finding directors who take him and his craft seriously. Ferrara probably comes closest, a Scorsese to his DeNiro.

Re The Funeral, it is funny and a little sad to think that only ten years prior, in Foley's At Close Range, Walken and Penn played father and son, and here, they work perfectly as brothers. Walken's androgyny plays a part - that blank visage - but Penn really let himself go, and died far too young.

[henriq]

Philip Kaufman - Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)

Yuck! What did I like about this? Oh, I remember: the seventies realism, the understated horror stylings in the design and cinematography. Denny Zeitlin’s electronics lending a curious pulse, metric and militance to the urban drift of the pod people on the move in San Francisco. But that’s it: reviewing it now, I’m only reminded how much I like Ferrara’s tighter, glossier nineties version. More and more, monsieur Warburton, do I understand your revulsion for Jeff Goldblum. He is insufferable here, riffing to his own melody and maudlin and felling sorry for himself the next minute. And Leonard Nimoy: unctuous prick, go find a portion of outer space to get lost in. And why would everyone flock to his psychiatrist as some sort of leader/savior? Not the only problem with the script, or the direction. The movie works fine in the realist/horror nexus, but then Kaufman seems to catch himself - Damn it, I have a story to tell as well: Cram The Clumsy Exposition Into Three Minutes Of Garbled Narrative So The Viewer Know What Is Going On. Consequently, too fucking long, too much Nimoy and Goldblum. Crap, don’t think I’ll return.

[Wombatz]

Anatole Litvak, Sorry, Wrong Number, 1948

Terrific, if a tad wordy, noir with a rather hysterical Barbara Stanwyck as a bedridden spoiled brat bitch married to Burt Lancaster, who, for reasons I won't divulge here, arranges for her to be bumped off by a hitman and then regrets it when it's all too late. It's a virtuoso exercise in flashbacks - and flashbacks within flashbacks - very well-filmed and with a fine cast. Lancaster, of course, is the greatest actor in human history (actually I don't believe this at all, I'm only trying to elicit an irate response from my pal Walto, who hasn't posted here since the end of March, happy, carefree pre-lockdown daze when our priapic Mr Blobby British PM was still merrily shaking hands and superspreading.. Yo Walt, prove you're still alive mate), but there are numerous fine smaller roles for Wendell Corey, Ed Begley and William Conrad (Cannon, anyone remember?). And a great finish, which I'd love to spoil for you but, well, can't.. Suffice it to say that they must have gone through numerous hoops to get it past the Code folks, who demanded happy endings. I suppose you could argue though that since nobody here could be described as a hero, it doesn't matter who dies in the end as long as the baddies get their comeuppance. They do.

i watched this and enjoyed it, it's such a wild mix of genres (gaslight, martha ivers, crime noir) held together by that flashback structure: passages that would be quite boring in themselves (like, psychology) are kind of thrilling in how they are stitched together. the two main actors are mostly awful (which reminds me that in my movie-watching childhood i had to fight for first halves of stanwyck films because my mother hated her and me thinking otherwise was down to unformed taste ... i won that one, in hindsight), possibly somewhat on purpose (on her part, being an involuntary fake, but also while kirk in martha ivers shows how to do something with a role like that, that much personality would have been intrusive here, where we're centered around stanwyck's sickbed) ... the film gets even better after watching, when one realizes that despite the hysterical vibe, it tastefully underplays several motives, most significantly her "choice" not to be able to skip character for the ending (i hope that's obscure enough not to count as a spoiler) ... very nice.

[Wombatz]

Philip Kaufman - Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) Yuck! What did I like about this?

it's probably still a great movie, but you have since become a cinéaste

(i'd rate them chronologically, the first a classic, the second mild fun (mostly because of ratturd sutherland, but nimoy was also good i thought (except his teeth are too big)), the ferrara unwatchable. but then i no longer am a cinéaste .)

[henriq]

it's probably still a great movie, but you have since become a cinéaste

(i'd rate them chronologically, the first a classic, the second mild fun (mostly because of ratturd sutherland, but nimoy was also good i thought (except his teeth are too big)), the ferrara unwatchable. but then i no longer am a cinéaste .)

Yeah, that, or the fact that I watched it late at night. Works magic sometimes, head and mind overloads with ideas and impressions, and other times everything tastes exceptionally bland. I probably will review at some point. I'd rate them the other way around: Ferrara great; Siegel a very competent and stylish thriller, but for some reason not blown away by it; and Kaufman a bit silly. Music is good though.

[Dan Warburton]

Philip Kaufman - Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) Yuck! What did I like about this?

it's probably still a great movie, but you have since become a cinéaste

(i'd rate them chronologically, the first a classic, the second mild fun (mostly because of ratturd sutherland, but nimoy was also good i thought (except his teeth are too big)), the ferrara unwatchable. but then i no longer am a cinéaste .)

Don't you mean cinéphile? To join in the Body Snatchers debate, I found much to enjoy in all three - the Siegel's a bit hysterical at the ending but the black and white makes it more ominous; the Kaufman was spoiled for me by Nimoy and Goldblum; the Ferrara was much better second time round. Odd, his movies seem to improve with repeated viewings - felt the same way about Ms 45, The Addiction and King of NY. And The Funeral of course. Anyway, delighted you enjoyed the Litvak.

[Dan Warburton]

Another week, another Benning..



James Benning, Sogobi, 2001

The title is the Shoshone Indian word for "Earth", and for the third part of his California Trilogy Benning, after exploring the Central Valley and Los Angeles, heads for the state's many wilderness areas and national parks. Same topo as the two earlier ones (see reviews above). The chappy from Time Out didn't like it as much, but I did. Nice article on all three here: https://www.artpractical.com/column/vis ... s-benning/

[Steve Minkin]

I've watched two more plays from the BBC boxes, both solid productions although not fabulous and exceptional as Helen Mirren's Cymbeline and As You Like It were.
Othello was . . . (Is enjoyable is ever the right word for Othello?) let's say engrossing, once I got over the shock of seeing Anthony Hopkins with Man Tan in the title role. He was understated in the opening, vulnerable in the middle scenes, and a little over the top at the end, but always commanded attention and acted masterfully. The surprising revelation in the film was Bob Hoskins as Iago, who was terrific in the role in a unique and totally successful interpretation. Hoskins was always the shortest person on the set and frequently spoke in a whisper, so he seemed to be flirting with invisibility; he was charming and engaging even as he figured out his villainies before us in the soliloquies. A solid production.

The Tempest was quite good, more like a stage play than any of the juiced up films of the play I've seen. It's not a knockout, like the Jarman film, but it's a solid reading of the complete text, well acted, and features some wonderful dancing by the spirits in the pageants. Definitely worth seeing.

[Piano Mouth]

Trying to watch Stemple Pass, definitely appreciate this style of film making from Benning, just had no idea that that was what I was getting into for the first time.

I saw We Are Little Zombies a campy cult musical video game movie classic! A story of four kids who are orphaned and their rise to fame as they form a rock group. A lot of back story about how each kid's parents died, which takes up about half the movie , and the other half is just a wild roller coaster ride of psychedelic visuals reminding one of Obayashi's Haus, but on steroids. The story itself and the way it was presented was akin to Wes Anderson's films, Moonlight Kingdom especially comes to mind. Anderson has been called a collector, where the missing pieces of his collection mattering too, this film relied less on props though, and more on the transgression of the kids' lives without heavily relying on the story itself. The only girl in the group is similar to Margot's character in The Royal Tennenbaums, as comparisons have been made about this I'm sure. Recommended good fun.

[Dan Warburton]

Woody Allen, Blue Jasmine, 2013

So I just read - no, actually, not true, listened to Woody read (Audiobook) - his whingeing autobiography, and, maybe feeling ever so slightly sorry for him after getting so thoroughly shafted by Farrow over that cooked-up child abuse rap (on second thoughts, not sorry - one does not feel sorry for anyone who lives in a Fifth Avenue penthouse overlooking Central Park) decided to snatch some of his recent movies. I've always joked with my Parisian Bobo Woody-loving students (for some reason they love Ken Loach too) that Allen films are like Beaujolais Nouveau: they appear towards the end of every year, are light, fruity, enjoyable and very soon forgotten. Yet, much as the man's self-pitying namedropping whine annoys intensely, I have to admit that his movies are, by and large, well-written, amusing, with a solid cast of good actors, well shot, lit and edited, and this one's no exception. https://www.theguardian.com/film/2013/s ... ine-review

[Dan Warburton]

Mitchell Leisen, No Man of Her Own, 1950

Remade by Robin Davis as J'ai épousé un ombre (see p.12 above - and I see I got the date wrong, that was released in 1983, not 2019!), this 1950 adaptation of the William Irish (Cornel Woolrich) novel is more complex, plotwise, but much more satisfying. Love the gleam in Stanwyck's eye during the wedding ceremony (no spoiling too much, I think), the shift from hunted to hunter. Good casting too, especially Lyle Bettger as the villain. Smart cinematography (DOP Dan Fapp later went to film West Side Story), nice combination of voiceover / flashback. Solid.

[Dan Warburton]

Guillaume Brac, Un monde sans femmes, 2012

Thanks again for hipping me to Guillaume Brac, all of whose films I've now grabbed and look forward to seeing - if they're all as good as this one I'm in for a real treat Anyone who openly acknowledges Kazan, Risi, Pialat and Rozier as influences (he doesn't mention Rohmer, but the connection's clear enough) obviously has his heart in the right place. This 54' short (medium, I'd say) is a real jewel, beautifully acted - in addition to Macaigne, Laure Calamy and Constance Rousseau are excellent - expertly filmed and edited (you don't notice how well until you stop and think - Pialat and Rohmer were both good at that), and filmed in the town of Ault, one of those wonderfully shabby pebble-beached seaside towns on the Picardy coast, the perfect setting for a drama like this. Very nice, recommended.

So we just got back from a weekend in said village and had to watch this little gem again. And this (which, unless I'm mistaken, I didn't mention last year):



Guillaume Brac, Le naufragé, 2009

Macaigne plays the same character, Sylvain. Same locations, same mastery of tiny detail. Splendid. Nice review here
https://svod.brefcinema.com/blog/cahier ... -brac.html

[Dan Warburton]

Jacques Doniol-Valcroze, Le coeur battant, 1960

It's always a thrill to discover a hitherto unknown gem. Slow learner, I had no idea who Jacques Rozier was until that Potemkine DVD box came out a few years ago, and now he's one of my favourites. I already knew Jacques Doniol-Valcroze as a critic and founder of the Cahiers du Cinéma but only came across the films he directed a few months ago (cf review earlier of L'eau à la bouche). Le coeur battant is one of those great la nouvelle vague part en vacances movies, when the Parisians head for the Côte d'Azur (think Rozier's Adieu Philippine, Rohmer's La Collectioneuse, Godard's Pierrot le fou..) whose Wiki plot summary (translated for you by DeepL) runs as follows: "A young painter, François, loves Dominique who prefers Juan, a Chilean diplomat with whom she had an affair the year before. She has to meet him on an island in the Mediterranean; she asks François to accompany her, who will try to seduce her while she waits for Juan's arrival." That makes it sound much more banal than it actually is (the same can be said of many nouvelle vague plot summaries), but there's an intricate chemistry between Jean-Louis Trintignant (usually a dour bugger but I've never seen him smile so much as he does here) and the wonderful Françoise Brion, who at the time was Mrs Doniol. There's that special look of love in the camera when it's on her, the same thrill when Godard shoots Karina. Running from bashfulness - the two end up having to share a double bed but manage to partition it using a long bolster - to slapstick (see the photo above, and yes there is a cream pie on the table). The hotel room next to theirs is taken by a couple of oriental (maybe Japanese?) men who pop up at odd moments, including as spectators at Dominique and François' catastrophically bad tennis match. The aforementioned Juan eventually arrives but leaves again without us even seeing his face, to the accompaniment of yet another one of those annoyingly cloying, cycling Michel Legrand melodies. You won't be able to get it out of your head. Would love to see a decently restored print: now that the early Robbe-Grillets (including L'Immortelle, also with Brion) have been dusted off, and Pollet seems to be making a comeback, fingers crossed for Doniol.

[Dan Warburton]

Claire Burger, C'est ça l'amour, 2018

While I wait with bated breath to see his performance as GOD in the forthcoming Delépine / Kerven, here's the best outing I've seen to date from Philippe "Bouli" Lanners. Don't know if family breakup dramas are your thing, but Burger really knows how to script, stage and film them. Impressive.
https://variety.com/2019/film/reviews/r ... 203287855/

[Dan Warburton]

Harun Farocki, A Day in the Life of a Consumer, 1993

To quote Andrei Ujica (via DeepL): "The title seems like a paraphrase of Marcuse on Solzhenitsyn. The film, composed exclusively of commercials, reflects the daily routine of the German consumerism. The author uses only the editing and does not add any commentary of his own. Several hundred spots were selected to document the archetypes of everyday life: from brushing one's teeth in the morning to the nightmare of not being sufficiently insured. The result is probably the most expensive documentary film of all time. The footage covers the entire existence of Germany, hence a certain nostalgic undertone. But it is all amusing and ironic. It starts with Guten Morgen Deutschland! in the style of the economic miracle, and ends with sandman-like high-tech lemons that tell us that the country will be occupied by UFOs at dawn. The old republic has ended, the GDR has landed within its borders. But the intention is not a sociology of advertising. At least not superficially. When, how, and what the spot achieved in spreading urban taste and manners in the post-war period is not the author's main concern. A day in the life of the consumer draws a line under the zeitgeist of the 80s, when capital was infiltrated by money." To give you a sample, here's five minutes on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=town3nv4_eA

[Dan Warburton]

Rob Johnstone, Kraftwerk and the Electronic Revolution, 2008

Nice to see my old Wire pals Edwin "Savage Pencil" Pouncey and David Stubbs among the commentators, not to mention the ageing, balding gentlemen (eh oui, no women musicians featured) who made the music to start with, with the notable exception (of course) of Messrs. Hütter & Schneider. Don't look for any grand History of Krautrock (the word doesn't appear) - Can and Faust are hardly mentioned - and don't expect any serious technical vocabulary. It rambles, rather aimlessly, but it's worth a look for some of the archive footage.

[Dan Warburton]

Julien Duvivier, Diaboliquement vôtre, 1967

IMDb: "A wealthy amnesiac begins to suspect that his devoted wife is not really his wife and that he is not the man people keep telling him he is." Our hero - Alain Delon, in bright and chirpy form throughout, evidently enjoying himself - wakes up in a hospital bad after a car crash to be taken home and sequestered in a château by his wife (Senta Berger, and we, like Delon, can't resist looking), her masochistic servant Kim and the mysterious doctor Freddie. Plot holes abound and the ending is rushed and not really convincing, but there's a cool opening sequence, a good François de Roubaix (Le samuraï) score and fine Henri Decaë photography (though I wonder whose idea it was to go for all those sudden zooms - the Italian producers'?). Sadly - ironically too - Duvivier didn't live to see it: he died in a car smash himself a couple of months before it came out.

[Dan Warburton]

Jean-Pierre Mocky, L'ombre d'une chance, 1973

Mocky plays Matthias, a middle-aged denim-sporting anarchist who scrapes together a life with his girlfriend Sandra a trio of fellow scrap dealers (the junk in his house has to be seen to be believed), throwing noisy parties to the annoyance of his neighbours, until a bailliff delivers an eviction notice - this being France, the sitting tenant has to be allowed right of first refusal and our hero has only a couple of days to raise the cash to buy the place. Meanwhile, his son - only 14 years his junior (Mocky himself had a son at 14) - shows up, with his girlfriend Odile, who catches Mathias banging Sandra on the kitchen table and decides she likes him too.. No apologies for the word banging, btw - the sex scenes are quite raw, and Mocky even slips in a half-second shot of - gulp - actual penetration. Quel scandale! Homage to Bergman for sneaking that erect penis into the opening sequence of Persona? I doubt it - more likely another example of the director giving the finger to authority (to everyone, in fact), Blier-like. It was enough to get the film banned from TV in France anyway, which the director presumably must have expected. For all its wildness its ending is rather melancholy, but I won't spoil that. Not that you're ever likely to see it, even less so with English subtitles.

[Dan Warburton]

Peter Handke, Die linkshändige Frau, 1978

According to Wiki, Handke still lives in Chaville, just SW of Paris and across the valley from where he used to live - and where this was shot - Clamart, and its neighbouring suburb Meudon, home to both Rodin and later Céline.. And Céline comes to mind of course recalling all the scandal of Handke's Nobel Prize: the former's virulent antisemitism just as objectionable as the latter's dumb pro-Serb airbrushing of the Balkan conflict. Still, never mind, both men could certainly write - and in Handke's case, direct too. Edith Clever plays the heroine (is she lefthanded? I didn't check), living alone with her son having given her husband Bruno (Ganz, great performance) notice to move out. We never really find out why - and it doesn't matter. Quite apart from the gorgeous Robby Müller photography, what's wondrously refreshing here is the editing, which breaks all those boring cardinal rules of film school, crosscutting odd angles, confusing sight lines, setting up visual rhymes - I'd say the same of Robbe-Grillet: must be what happens when writers become directors. Far from sending the audience to sleep (thanks to Leonard Maltin for that one: only thing I'd say to Leonard is what John Oliver said to Tucker: fuck you), it's so interesting I watched it twice in a row.