Archive for March, 2011

THE ELUSIVE CORPORAL (Jean Renoir, 1962)

March 29, 2011

By common critical procedure, Jean Renoir’s late-career Le caporal épinglé, because it is about two French soldiers who keep trying to escape a wartime German prison-camp, is complacently clubbed by comparison with Renoir’s La grande illusion a quarter-century earlier. In a sense, Renoir is inviting—daring—the comparison. From Jacques Perret’s 1947 autobiographical novel, Le caporal épinglé is set during the Second World War, while La grande illusion is set during the First. Parallel incidents further link the two films.
     Le caporal épinglé is marvelous. Jean-Pierre Cassel, exquisitely shading the breeziness of his personality, claims the role of a lifetime as The Corporal, becoming the film’s throbbingly human and yet delicately ambiguous center. The Corporal is “elusive” not only because the Germans cannot ultimately hold him, confiscating his self-determination, but also because he withholds an interior life even from his fellow prisoners. What he refrains from disclosing presumably helps him to survive and prevail. He is a Parisian, after all, and “Papa,” at the last his fellow escapee, may be too blunt to perceive his comrade’s subtlety.
     The fate of another French prisoner stings: bespectacled Ballochet (Claude Rich, excellent), whose opportunism offends but who, reclaiming his soul, attempts escape as a search for dignity. One of a number of superlative passages, this one is suspensefully reflected, inside the quarters of prisoners, in a comrade’s face: a devastating gauging of time amidst the sounds we hear from outside. Indeed, Renoir’s film generates immense concern for its heroic soldiers.
     One of the legs of The Corporal’s escape is a train ride. In the compartment are an obnoxious little boy, whom his mother tries reining in, and an obnoxious German drunk. This darkly funny passage proves the need for serendipity.
     Georges Leclerc contributes dreamy gray black-and-white cinematography.

B(U)Y THE BOOK

MY BOOK, A Short Chronology of World Cinema, IS CURRENTLY AVAILABLE FROM THE SANDS FILMS CINEMA CLUB IN LONDON. USING EITHER OF THE LINKS BELOW, ACCESS THE ADVERTISEMENT FOR THIS BOOK, FROM WHICH YOU CAN ORDER ONE OR MORE COPIES OF IT. THANKS.

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=16

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=19

LA MARSEILLAISE (Jean Renoir, 1937)

March 28, 2011

Martin Scorsese deems Jean Renoir’s La Marseillaise, about the French Revolution in its early phase, “one of the finest and richest historical films ever made.” It provides views of the unfolding events by both common folk and royals; the system in place thinks so little of an ordinary man’s life that if he should kill a pigeon, to protect his farm’s harvest, he should be executed to set an example. Only the titled possess hunting rights, and class boundaries must be observed. The farmer in question, known as Mountain Goat, though, escapes “justice.”
     With this epic, Renoir aims for timeliness, given the threat that Hitler poses to Europe, including to the spirit and liberty of France. He is keeping alive the historical memory of momentous struggles, with the Prussian army, which invades France, predicting the impending invasion in Renoir’s own time.
     We only hear about the 1789 storming of the Bastille, along with King Louis XVI, who is eating in bed, exhausted after a royal hunt; but we see the culmination of the people’s march to Paris, the thunderous taking of the Tuileries Palace, in 1792. Here is a profoundly moving passage—one into which the episodic film in toto pours. Contributing significantly to the passage’s impact is the completion of Edmond Ardisson’s fine performance as Bomier.
     Although Renoir’s film is temperamentally very different, the extent to which it achieves a present tense with the past anticipates Roberto Rossellini’s histories beginning with The Rise to Power of Louis XIV (1966). Of course, Renoir gives us a rousing, robust people’s story, with all the variety and patriotic fervor that this implies. In its infancy, the song that will become France’s national anthem, “La Marseillaise,” correlates musically to the film’s stirring portrait of the people of France.

B(U)Y THE BOOK

MY BOOK, A Short Chronology of World Cinema, IS CURRENTLY AVAILABLE FROM THE SANDS FILMS CINEMA CLUB IN LONDON. USING EITHER OF THE LINKS BELOW, ACCESS THE ADVERTISEMENT FOR THIS BOOK, FROM WHICH YOU CAN ORDER ONE OR MORE COPIES OF IT. THANKS.

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=16

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=19

WE’RE NOT MARRIED! (Edmund Goulding, 1952)

March 26, 2011

Because Melvin Bush mistakenly believed his appointment as justice of the peace began immediately, a few years later six wedded couples—this includes one that’s entirely offscreen—learn that their marriages, illegal, are instantly annulled. Consequences abound. For instance, Willie Reynolds (Eddie Bracken, at his best), a draftee, goes AWOL before shipping overseas so he can remarry his wife, who is pregnant. This is one of the anthology film’s sharpest episodes because it points up obsessive fifties moralism. Ironically, Willie’s anxiety that his future son should be “legitimate” predicts how lame a parent Willie, should he live and return home, will be. He will teach his son, above all, social conformity.
     Although Victor Moore and Jane Darwell are lovely as Mr. and Mrs. Bush, the best performance comes from Louis Calhern as a businessman whose actual marital status enables him to turn the legal tables on his thinks-she-is-his-wife (Zsa Zsa Gabor, inept), who is divorcing him and taking advantage of California’s “community property” laws. Calhern, avoiding the trap of smugness, keeps his acting light and bemused.
     Unfortunately, most of the film doesn’t live up to its crafty premise. Dwight Taylor adapted the original story by Gina Kaus and Jay Dratler, with Nunnally Johnson, no less, converting Taylor’s treatment into a script.
     The most disappointing material involves “the glad Gladwyns,” who married to secure a joint morning radio show—a takeoff on Breakfast with Dorothy [Kilgallen] and Dick [Kollmar]. Lovey-dovey on the air, the Gladwyns turn into the Bickering Bickersons when they aren’t on the air. Lacking all specific gravity, Fred Allen is a cipher as Steve Gladwyn; and, surprisingly, Ginger Rogers is lackluster as Ramona, Steve’s wife. Perhaps Rogers felt that their combative union was no match for Allen’s long-running mock-feud with Jack Benny.

B(U)Y THE BOOK

MY BOOK, A Short Chronology of World Cinema, IS CURRENTLY AVAILABLE FROM THE SANDS FILMS CINEMA CLUB IN LONDON. USING EITHER OF THE LINKS BELOW, ACCESS THE ADVERTISEMENT FOR THIS BOOK, FROM WHICH YOU CAN ORDER ONE OR MORE COPIES OF IT. THANKS.

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=16

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=19

LISBON STORY (Wim Wenders, 1994)

March 26, 2011

Surely I do not need to prove to anyone my love for the cinema of German writer-director Wim Wenders; thrice I have named Wenders the year’s best—twice for his contribution to scripts and once for the year’s best film. In the Course of Time (1976) is indeed one of the greatest films on Earth and amidst the stars in the heavens.
     But oh my God, Lisbon Story, from Germany and Portugal, is boring. While it might have worked as a brave non-narrative piece, Wenders adopts a drifty non-narrative air which he spoils by cramming in one narrative suggestion after another, each of which (except at the very end) he stymies, frustrates or otherwise thwarts. Upshot: the 100-minute film feels like 200 minutes. Watching Lisbon Story is a punishing experience.
     Even all the Hitchcock references, under the circumstances, annoy. And that damn buzzing fly that sound engineer Winter keeps trying to kill so he can get some sleep doesn’t delight once Wenders repeats the “gag” over and over and over again.
     With one leg in a cast, Winter hobbles around Lisbon collecting sounds to suit the images of friend Friedrich’s latest film, a monochromatic silent. Winter stays at Friedrich’s place, expecting to meet up with him, but Friedrich, having abandoned the project (“Images are no longer to be trusted”), never shows up. Winter eventually finds him hiding out in the city. Together, they complete the film-within-the-film. By this time, Winter’s leg has shed its cast.
     Somehow, Wenders makes insufficient use of a beautiful woman and singer for whom Winter’s interest grows.

B(U)Y THE BOOK

MY BOOK, A Short Chronology of World Cinema, IS CURRENTLY AVAILABLE FROM THE SANDS FILMS CINEMA CLUB IN LONDON. USING EITHER OF THE LINKS BELOW, ACCESS THE ADVERTISEMENT FOR THIS BOOK, FROM WHICH YOU CAN ORDER ONE OR MORE COPIES OF IT. THANKS.

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=16

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=19

THE WAY I SPENT THE END OF THE WORLD (Cătălin Mitulescu, 2006)

March 25, 2011

Orson Welles, referring to Shoeshine (1946), expressed great admiration: “the camera disappeared, the screen disappeared; it was just life.” Few of us today would describe the effect of watching Vittorio De Sica’s film in quite this way, but Welles’s words might better suit Cătălin Mitulescu’s first feature, Cum mi-am petrecut sfârsitul lumii, from Romania and France. This extraordinarily beautiful film, set in the rural outskirts of Bucharest in 1989, captures the rich texture and breathing fabric of communal working-class lives as Communist dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu’s rule inches toward its revolutionary end.
     The focus is the Matei family, especially Grigore and Maria’s two schoolchildren, 17-year-old Eva (Dorotheea Petre, excellent) and 7-year-old “Lali” (Lalalilu). Although she isn’t the offending party, Eva is transferred to a trade school after the toppling and shattering of her original school’s plaster bust of Ceaușescu; she dreams of fleeing Romania. Ceaușescu is scheduled to appear at Lali’s school. Representing Romania’s children, Lali therefore prepares a formal greeting for the opportunity to assassinate Ceaușescu.
     Black-and-white television coverage of Ceaușescu’s fall, with everyone watching, is incorporated in the color film. Stunning image: Uncle Florică’s car, which Florică has set on fire to celebrate the occasion, burning. Mitulescu’s film here and elsewhere urges Romania to look and press ahead rather than rake the coals of the past. In this way the present and the future can redeem the past.
     Mitulescu’s direction achieves a compelling naturalism, but a few passages, such as the symbolical one involving the fate of Ceaușescu’s bust, pass into surreal territory. A communal dream of escape (by coach) from Ceaușescu’s Romania resolves itself in Eva’s sparkling ocean liner voyage at night following the liberation of Romania. It is a touch of poetry, magic, mystery, eternity.

B(U)Y THE BOOK

MY BOOK, A Short Chronology of World Cinema, IS CURRENTLY AVAILABLE FROM THE SANDS FILMS CINEMA CLUB IN LONDON. USING EITHER OF THE LINKS BELOW, ACCESS THE ADVERTISEMENT FOR THIS BOOK, FROM WHICH YOU CAN ORDER ONE OR MORE COPIES OF IT. THANKS.

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=16

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Dennis+Grunes&x=14&y=19


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 61 other followers