Week in Film #6: 2/1/16-2/7/16

Week in Film #6: 2/1/16-2/7/16

Film of the Week: The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp
   Year: 1943
   Director: Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger

       The movie starts with, after a chase, an old army man berating a young officer, and then beating him, for his insolence and impudence. The moment flash's back without a cut or dissolve, and we see the old man as the young man was: full of life and energy and a bit of naivety and the strengths and weaknesses of youth. The rest of the story is told linearly, but this is an important exception, one that tells the entire story, from a perspective, in it's first five minutes. The story of the clash of generations, and of the wisdom and anti-wisdom that one acquires. About the old way versus the new one, the past and the present, antiquity and modernism. Not a clash of ages, per say, but a clash of ideals, ones that may fluctuate over time. The proper way, as Colonel Candy sees it, and the easy way, probably the more productive, but maybe not the right.

       This is a take down of British Victorian ideals about gentleman-ship and respectful austerity and manners, but it is also clear that the pair of directors have a love for the very institutionalism that they proceed to, albeit very respectfully, tear down. It's not that they totally want to destroy this form of British values, but they want to point out its flaws and its ridiculousness, at the same time embracing it, in an arms length sort of way. Aside from all the political insinuations, the look and feel of the film is one so steeped in Englishness it makes you feel a nostalgia of sorts for it, a comfortability with itself. There is a great fondness for the outdated ways of old, one that looks back in admiration, but also caution and amusement.

       Roger Livesey is great, showing believable aging process both physically and characteristically, and doing so on par with Orson Welles in Citizen Kane. In his youth he brings a liveliness not without respect and dignity, and in his older days a regalness and still beating spirit. It's an outstanding and detailed performance, and one that should be acknowledged as a great one. The grandeur of production evokes David Lean at times, and the signature use of color and its sheer perfection of composition gives it a a grand and all around impressive feel. This is a movie of vastness, in its character, its imagery, its themes, its scope, and its production. One that says important things, while being about a single man, and saying it in personal and heart rendered ways.

   Rating: B+

The Rest:

The Bad Sleep Well

   Year: 1960

   Director: Akira Kurosawa

       It is commonly said that all serious actors at some point come to Hamlet. In Kurosawa's very loose adaptation of the bard's play, it is Toshiro Mifune who plays the avenging son. Mifune is straight and clean cut, all buried rage and passion. It may be very liberated from the source material, but the film captures the spirit of the play and applies it to the modern era of corporate greed and corruption; corruption so deep it even ensnares the stand in for the ghost of the princes father. It's an effective translation, but the movie itself suffers from tonal imbalances in places, odd moments of comedy or lightheartedness that simply do not fit in with the noir grit and dark overtones of the picture. However, this doesn't ruin Kurosawa's overall impeccable sense of style and composition, making it nearly as well crafted a piece of cinema as the others I've seen from the Japanese auteur.

   Rating: B-

All That Jazz
   Year: 1979
   Director: Bob Fosse

       Encompassing all the glitz and glam of showbiz, it garners that image and energy to lament the lifestyle its lead lives, and the destructive powers of artistic obsession and personal recklessness. I've seen a lot of movies lately that tackle the topic of the drive that comes with the want to create art and the issues that arrive and ensnare the artist on his quest for that creation, or performance. The others didn't get as meta about it as this one does. Stepping out of itself in more than one way, it also immerses itself in the world of performance art, and performance in it's own right, just as much. And it all does it with well crafted, electric editing and all out presentation, particularly in its ostentatiously outstanding finale. 

   Rating: B+

Mouchette
   Year: 1967
   Director: Robert Bresson

       When Mouchettes world is finally her own, there seems to be the sound of guns to break the silence. You get knocked down until you can't get back up again, no matter how many times you've picked yourself up before. Like all Bresson I've seen thus far, the themes and approach is handled with forwardness and muted emotion. Things are simply presented to you, not necessarily advising you or even manipulating you into feeling a certain way about them. You would think that this gives off cold and distant vibes, but it somehow actually makes the opposite occur. It is more emotional and powerful because instead of letting feelings explode, the silently seep out, and it makes for the kind of longing painful sorrow that can't be achieved through the flash and dance another filmmaker might have brought to the film.

   Rating: B

Hail, Caesar!
   Year: 2016
   Director: Joel and Ethan Coen

       Hail, Caesar! in it's structure is much like that of the the world of Eddie Mannix: disjointed, hectic, and constantly interesting. This approach on the one hand lends itself well to the Coen's vision of various vignettes of the Hollywood studio system of yonder tied together by an overarching communist threat, which is very appropriate to the time period. On the other hand, it feels a little broken up and sometimes meandering and without a flow. That is somewhat beside the point when the rest of what goes on is so hilariously spot on Coen Brothers style and wit. A combination of their signature mix of surreal comedy and surprising moments of slapstick make this incredibly funny at times, often in the most amazing and unexpected ways, as you learn to expect with their movies. Overall worthwhile, but not their best effort.

   Rating: B-

Charulata
   Year: 1964
   Director: Satyajit Ray

       This is something that lulls you, into a trance state of sorts, and fully envelops around you. One of those movies that takes you in, and brings you right into the lives of the characters. Beautiful on more than an aesthetic level, as Rays films tend to be, showing the very essence of life, the rhythm and flow of the world. Take the absolutely stunning sequence on the swing, where the camera follows Madhabi Mukherjees face as she glides back and forth, upwards and back down on the seat. It's somewhat simple, but incredibly effective, and not like anything I'd seen before on film. Enchanting, as is our lead actress, the sensitive humanity of the story, and the movie itself.

   Rating: A-

Grand Canyon
   Year: 1991
   Director: Lawrence Kasdan

       It's fine. Decent performances, moral messages, standard contrivances somewhat balanced by moments of truth, however small. It's commentary on race isn't explored the way it could have been, and its perspective is more or less safe and traditional. The whole thing is rather traditional, which wouldn't bother me I suppose if I hadn't been exposed to so much inventive, impressive, original, and great cinema as of late.

   Rating: C+