In the Mood for Love (2000)

Posted on August 10, 2016 by 4 Star Films

“Feelings can creep up just like that” – Mr. Chow

Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love is a visual exhibition in style. It has a smooth elegance that extends across its entire length. Colors mixed with 1960s nostalgia. Decadence mixed with urban depression. The perfect blending of the cinematography of Christopher Doyle and Mark Lee Ping Bin. There are brief fades between many sequences and more often than not a shot has a focal point while the fringes are out of focus, but it’s all strangely beautiful. We’re often viewing characters from behind or from the side — seeing how they interact with their environments that keep them confined in a certain space. The numerous hallways, doorways, and rooms that cohesively make up their existence.

But enough talk about aesthetics at least for the present. The film opens in 1962 with two couples moving into an apartment complex simultaneously. There are four individuals involved obviously, but we only ever see two of them. Mr. Chow is a journalist and his wife is often away for business leaving him alone. The stunning Mrs. Chan works as a secretary and she too feels lonely due to her husband’s many trips abroad. There’s the constant passing in the hallways at times and in truth, it can be laborious at times. After all, they are both perfectly civil and respectable people, although one night they finally have a tete a tete at a cafe. It’s there where they come to understanding about their significant others. Coincidences are not so coincidental. They are both cheating with the other’s spouse.

And of course, Mr. Chow and Mrs. Chan do not want to stoop to that level so they keep their relationship platonic worrying about what the neighbors will say, but also taking great comfort in the other’s company. Even together there is a distance, a restraint, that I suppose reflects the times — reflects the cultural expectations of that time. But the isolation and the loneliness is far too great and Mr. Chow enlists his new companion’s help in crafting a martial arts serial for the local newspaper. For once in their lives, they have the kind of interpersonal relationships they crave, and in this way In the Mood for Love shares some of the same sentiments as David Lean’s Brief Encounter.

Although Mr. Chow shows perhaps even greater restraint finally moving away from his love and relocating because he knows she will never leave her husband. Thus, it’s not worth the risk for them to stay together unless she were to come with him. But as often happens in such situations stars are not meant to cross and they constantly miss each other between Hong Kong, then Singapore, and finally Chow goes to Cambodia. And that’s where his story ends.With a detached denouement that is cryptic and in the same instance deeply melancholy.

An important distinction to makes is that In the Mood for Love could have been a lurid drama, but with only two of the characters shown it becomes a more intimate even sorrowful portrait of forbidden love. In truth, it’s a portrait accented with spiraling wisps of cigarette smoke and the rhythmic water droplets of falling rain. The always fashionable Mrs. Chan is dressed impeccably in wonderful juxtaposition to the atmosphere behind her. “Yumeji’s Theme” is constantly pirouetting and sashaying around the images on screen combined with the sultry notes of “Quizas, Quizas, Quizas” courtesy of Nat King Cole.

It’s a mesmerizing recipe that tells of the complexities and intricacies that run through interpersonal relationships. What crosses the line? What is moral? What is fair in love and Wong Kar-wai’s universe? That’s just it. This is one of those films that has grace enough not to give us all the answers but instead, leaves us captivated by its vision. The rest is left up to us to judge as we see fit. It maintains an air of mystery, because, after all, love is far from a two-dimensional phenomenon.

4.5/5 Stars

Love in the Afternoon (1972)

Posted on August 8, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Is it possible to love two women at once? In essence, that’s one of the main conceits of this moral tale from director Eric Rohmer’s series. Sometimes Rohmer feels like the Woody Allen of France although Allen’s films are slightly more geared towards comedy and the former’s films have an inclination towards love stories. But both fill their storylines with characters engrossed in thought — men and women who are well versed in the ideas of the ages they come out of. They are well off, well-educated, and have problems relevant to the bourgeoisie. At times it can get a bit stuffy and yet in this case Rohmer examines the issues of one man’s lifestyle with immense clarity. Although it should be noted that this a very patriarchal world and the ideas brought to the forefront emerge from that perspective.

Our main character Frederic has a degree of autonomy working at his own law firm. He has a beautiful and intelligent wife who is a professor of literature. Together they have one cute little girl and another on the way soon enough. His office is full of pretty Parisian girls and he often finds himself swimming in a sea of attractive women, But he can return home to his wife, read, think, and sit in the relative lap of luxury. Except there is something else inside him. Some desire that leads him in a small way to lust after other women. He tries to categorize and passively analyze all the women around him. His dream life is comprised of first loves and lasting loves — nothing that will dissipate with age. But he is addicted to a city where people come and go — vanishing never to be seen again. There is the innumerable but fleeting presence of women. He lives in a daydream, an innocent enough fantasy (so it seems), watching girls from a cafe and imagining chance encounters with them. A lot of the faces look strangely familiar if you know a bit about the Moral Tales.

Then all of a sudden Chloe comes back into his life quite by accident. She used to be his former flame and now he’s happily married and she recently broke up with her boyfriend and picked up some dead-end job. But being a good husband and a respectable citizen Frederic never seems to cross the line, although he seems to spend more and more time with Chloe. In this way, Rohmer’s characters never seem inherently corrupt and they fit nicely into the mold of bourgeois sensibilities. But that does not mean they don’t dance around some rather sensuous lines. Even when thoughts do not give way to physical or even animalistic desires there is still a volatility in dwelling there. When reality gives way to any sort of fantasy things can get dicey because expectations are distorted — even our perspective on the opposite sex begins to teeter dangerously.

And it’s not simply that this is set in the sultry city of Paris. There is an obvious desire of Frederic to be with this woman and they spend afternoons together. She becomes his confidante as he is so often reserved and taciturn in his marriage. But the complexities get even greater as Chloe says she wants a child by Frederic, but not marriage. He still goes home to his wife and seems to deeply care about her.

It’s the dichotomy that so easily could tear his life apart or make his resolve even stronger. In this case, it’s the latter. He acknowledges his aloofness to his wife, his communication skills or lack thereof. And it is in this moment that husband and wife truly show their vulnerability. It’s in this instance of intimacy that they once more discover love in the afternoon. This film can easily be called Chloe in the Afternoon and it was called that in the U.S. to avoid confusion with Billy Wilder’s romantic comedy, but Love in the Afternoon is more universal. Furthermore, it becomes more fitting as Frederic takes one last crucial turn in his love life.

4/5 Stars

Review: High and Low (1963)

Posted on August 6, 2016 by 4 Star Films

highandlow1 High and Low (or Heaven and Hell in the original Japanese) is a yin and yang film about the polarity of man in many ways. Gondo (Toshiro Mifune) is an affluent executive in the National Shoe Company. He worked his way up the corporate ladder from the age 16, because of his determination and commitment to a quality product. Now his colleagues want his help in forcing the company’s czar out. They come to his modernistic hilltop abode to get his support. Instead, they receive his ire, splitting in a huff. What follows is a risky plan of action from Gondo that is both fearless and shrewd. He takes all his capital to buy stock in the company so he can take over, but his whole financial stability hangs in the balance. He knows exactly what it means, but he wasn’t suspecting certain unforeseen developments.

Then in a matter of moments, everything changes. Gondo gets a menacing phone call claiming that his young boy is kidnapped and an astronomical sum of money is expected in return. Gondo and then his wife are instantly horrified by the news only to be relieved when their boy winds up unharmed. The same’s not true for his chauffeur’s boy Shinichi. The mistake in identity is obvious, but it makes no difference to the perpetrator because he still has leverage. He wants to make Gondo sweat since this is more than an isolated incident. He wants to make the man suffer – bringing him down to the level of all the unfortunate souls who live in the wasteland down below.

highandlow2 At this point, the police are called and they arrive incognito, ready to stake out the joint and do the best they can to get the boy back safe and sound. This section of the film almost in its entirety takes place within the confines of Gondo’s house and namely the front room overlooking the city. It’s the perfect set up for Akira Kurosawa to situate his actors. He uses full use of the widescreen and his fluid camera movements keep them perfectly arranged within the frame.

Although the number of bodies also increases the anxiety in the space with Gondo at the center of it all trying to figure out what to do. Moral issues begin bubbling up that no man would have to deal with and yet they end up right in his lap. His whole business empire that he’s given his heart and soul to hangs in the balance of this decision, but he must make it nonetheless. Make the difficult choice to pay the ransom and do what’s moral, or not pay it and maintain his financial stability. For once in his life, their’s a hesitancy.

It’s as if he’s getting pulled back and forth with his wife chiding him, “Success isn’t worth losing your humanity,” while his opportunistic right-hand man is chomping at the bit to get a move on. He’s not going to allow his superior to sink all their prospects at financial gain.

As things progress, we finally move from the living room to the train where Gondo prepares to make the drop, but his adversary has planned out everything and has a clean getaway. The money is gone and now the police double their efforts. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, his backers are prepared to push Gondo out, because of his inability to pay them. Public opinion soars for the selfless act, and we finally meet our protagonist’s unknown adversary.

Really this second leg of the film is mostly about the procedural aspect as they begin hitting the pavement canvassing and trying to close in on the culprit. This section intercuts the reports going on at headquarters with actual police work on the streets and it’s strangely engaging.

highandlow3 Finally, with the help of Shinichi, they make a startling discovery that ties back to the kidnapper. And the boy’s drawings along with a colorful stream of smoke help them move in ever closer. What follows is an elaborate web of trails through the streets as they work to catch the culprit in his crime, to put him away for good. And it works.

highandlow5 But High and Low cannot end there without a consideration of the consequences. Gondo has been brought low. He’s losing his mansion and must start a new job on the bottom of the food chain once more. His enemy requests a final meeting as he prepares for his imminent fate, and this is perhaps the most grippingly painful scene. Gondo’s face-to-face with the man who made him suffer so much. Toshiro Mifune’s violent acting style serves him well as he wrestles so intensely with his own conscience. And yet at this junction, he is past that. What is he to do but listen? In this way, it’s difficult to know who to feel sorrier for — the man who is resigned to a certain fate passively or the one who goes out proud and arrogantly against death. Both have entered some dark territory and it’s no longer about high or low or even heaven and hell. They’re stuck in some middle ground. An equally frightening purgatory.

Yes, this works as an indictment of the justice system and even the capitalistic framework of an industrialist post-war Japan, but it’s even more so an acknowledgment of man’s own morality and mortality. We are far from indestructible, unfaltering beings.

4.5/5 Stars

The Mark of Zorro (1940)

Posted on August 4, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Madrid–when the Spanish Empire encompassed the globe and young blades were taught the fine and fashionable art of killing…

The mythology of Zorro most certainly starts with the swashbuckling silents of Douglas Fairbanks, but the character’s legacy would be carried forward into the 1940s. So much so that it even gave some inspiration to a young Bruce Wayne, along with numerous boys picking up comic books in his generation.

In all fairness, I don’t know a whole lot about director Rouben Mamoulian. I assumed his forte was costume dramas and stage production as he did do a lot on Broadway. And if that is true, The Mark of Zorro, while not seemingly the work of some creative mastermind, is invariably enjoyable. That is also to the credit of 1940s matinee idol and dashing leading man Tyrone Power. Although over his career and even in this film, he proves to be more than a handsome face. He seemed to hold his own up against Basil Rathbone when it came to swordplay and he danced between the superficial and heroic personas with relative ease. It brings to mind other such roles as Christopher Reeves in Superman (1978) for instance. That of course, brings up the need for an origin story.

In many ways, it feels anachronistic that Don Diego Vega makes the long voyage from Spain to Los Angeles California, but then in the 1800s Spain still had some presence on the West Coast. It’s there were Vega gives up his sword, rendezvous with his father and mother, while slowly taking on a second life. Zorro certainly has a wonderful double life going. By day a stuffy, foppish playboy fascinated with magic tricks and given to fatigue. Then, by night he dons the black mask and saber as “the fox” wholly prepared to rob from the oppressors and bring hope to the common man. He’s the Robin Hood of the Spanish settlements marking his territory with his iconic “Z” and simultaneously getting a bounty stuck on his head.

The corrupt tub of lard Luis Quintero pushed Vega’s father out of office with the help of his menacing right-hand man Captain Pasquale (Basil Rathbone). On the surface, Don Diego plays into the older man’s hand, while at night he fools everyone including the local priest (Eugene Palette) with his masquerade.

Perhaps most importantly of all Zorro is able to romance the young ingenue Lolita Quintero by eventually letting her in on his little secret and taking down her nefarious uncle. But of course, everything must come down to some epic swordplay and heroics. Zorro and Pasquale eventually face on in an office sword fight that made me absolutely giddy with excitement. As he leads the revolt against the powers that be there is an obvious energy pulsing through the storyline. This is a pure cinematic action-adventure that glories in the age of swashbucklers.

True, we have a pair of tragic stars in Tyrone Power and Linda Darnell. He died of a heart attack at the age of 44 and she died only a few years later at 41 years of age after a house fire. But, for the time being, they are young, vibrant, and full of life. Perfect protagonists in a film where love and justice reign supreme and heroes always conquer evil.

4/5 Stars

Sing Street (2016)

Posted on August 3, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Sing_Street_poster A famed philosopher of the MTV age once sang “video killed the radio star,” and John Carney’s Sing Street is a tribute to that unequivocal truth. Certainly, it’s what some might call a return to form for the director, landing closer to his previous work in Once, and staging the way for some wonderfully organic musical numbers set against the backdrop of Dublin circa 1985. In this respect, it’s another highly personal entry, and Carney does well to grab hold of the coming-of-age narrative.

Our main point of interest is Conor, a lad thrown into a new school of hellish proportions and of course, there’s a girl, and he wants to get to know said girl. What follows soon thereafter is the inception of an entire band, the eponymous Sing Street. So in essence, the band forms so he can get the girl. It’s that simple and it works…sort of.

By all accounts, she’s an untouchable goddess, a year older than him, with a mature boyfriend and aspirations of modeling in England. And yet Raphina deigns to stoop to their level and take part in their first foray into music video-making. It’s in such moments that the film unabashedly hoists up its 80s sensibilities, suggesting Carney’s own personal affection for that day and age. Because amidst all the god-awful make-up, outrageous costumes and mimicry of the new wave scene, there’s a sense of amusement. Since every boy, at one time or another, has gone through these different phases and stages, like a sponge soaking up all conceivable inspirations. In this case, Conor’s older brother Brendan becomes his pontificating Buddha of rock n’ roll. His influences run the gamut from Duran Duran to the Cure and most definitely a little David Bowie.

But his band also develops into a wonderfully liberating beast to combat the furies of the world. Conor is consumed by grand dreams of Back to the Future themed prom nights at an American-style high school. Meanwhile, his parents are continually squabbling at home and his dream girl leaves for London without a word of goodbye. But he uses his newfound outlet paired with the guidance of his brother to turn his stray thoughts and accumulating angst into something of true substance. Namely, Conor and the versatile Eamon, have a bit of a Lennon-McCartney partnership going, as far as creative genius goes, proceeding to run with each spark of an idea that strikes. In fact, with all the boys, there’s a matter-of-fact gravity to it all, because forming a band is a serious business — it’s a concerted effort not to succumb to the grisly fate of yet another gutted cover band.

Like any formative tale about young men and women, Sing Street suggests the vital importance of personal identity and chasing after dreams in particular. You see it with Conor as he constantly dons new facades, not simply in a search for greater artistic expression, but personal freedom.

But where he breaks with his big brother, is what he actually does with the inspiration that has been passed down to him from the rock gods. He uses its whole potential as a gateway to the way of life that he desires — making the most of the opportunities that are afforded him — even if they are a long shot. As the movie progresses Raphina looks younger and younger, and it hardly seems by accident. Over time, she sheds layer after layer of makeup and manicuring to reveal a bit more of herself, until the tipping point where all her dreams come cascading down, and she has nowhere to hide. In fact, in these more fragile moments, Lucy Boynton is reminiscent of a young Felicity Jones.

Admittedly “Sing Street” has a ludicrous ending and there are moments that it tilts towards the plastic production values of “Begin Again” rather than the sincerity of Once, but that’s a lot of what the 80s feels like. It’s fake. It’s this construction projected up on a screen. And that’s precisely what this film is saluting and celebrating, but that’s only the half of it. Raphina rightfully points out you can never do art half way. That’s what rock n’ roll is in a sense. It’s audacious exploration, risk-taking and a bit of foolishness in the name of chasing your dreams, usually involving a girl. Thus, the film is not wholly original, even for Carney, who has drawn from the same well three times over, but like any artist, he’s able to discover fresh inspiration from old cisterns. After all, every member of humanity is in one way another a broken work of art, beautifully complicated, and that’s worth returning to again and again.

4/5 Stars

The Three Musketeers (1973)

Posted on August 2, 2016 by 4 Star Films

In the beginning, this Dumas adaptation was to be the next zany live-action vehicle for the Beatles following the success of A Hard Day’s Night and Help. In fact, they even were ready to work with the same director. Well, Richard Lester stayed and the Beatles were disbanded for several years before this film even got going. In this incarnation, it was set to be a three-hour star-studded epic. Instead, it was thought better of, and this became the first installment with a second film coming out a year later.

Thus, The Three Musketeers has impressive star power, but the direction of Lester also supplies action with a constant barrage of gags for good measure. To top it off the film actually does follow the general story arc of the novel, but invigorates it was bits and pieces of humor that lighten up the tone. So perhaps it’s a light and fluffy piece of entertainment, but it’s still easy to enjoy what Lester’s been able to do here. It’s a great deal of fun.

Our audacious d’Artagnon is a strapping Michael York, who has picked up plenty of swashbuckling skills from his father. So he heads out on his own to seek out adventure and uphold his family honor. In a matter of minutes he already a succession of duels lined up, and of course who are they with? The Three Musketeers: Athos (Oliver Reed), Porthos (Frank Finlay), and Aramis (Richard Chamberlain). He sides with his new comrades against the corrupt Cardinal Richelieu (Charlton Heston), and attempt to help the Queen (Geraldine Chaplin) get out of a tight jam.

What follows is a rambunctious array of treachery, romance, and royalty that involves Anne’s lover the Duke of Buckingham, a sly chambermaid (Faye Dunaway), the King, and of course the Cardinal. Peace stands in the balance not to mention the Queen’s self-respect, and so d’Artagnon and the boys do the honorable thing and bail her out. I said before that this film has it’s fair share of sword fights which are fun in themselves, but the laughs really accent the story nicely.

The plot is there and we can appreciate the work of Alexandre Dumas, but it is not necessarily the focal point. Charlton Heston gives a seemingly uncharacteristic turn as Cardinal Richelieu, the corrupted man of the cloth, who cares more about politics and social unrest than he does about his faith. He’s no Moses or Ben-Hur for that matter. Furthermore, we are treated to a little tooth and nail type action courtesy of Raquel Welch and Faye Dunaway. It turns out to be yet another rewarding scene because these two ladies were two of the defining icons of the 1970s, and here we get to see them face off.

I’m already revving up for part two because I wouldn’t mind returning to these characters. There’s a lot of good old-fashioned fun to be had here.

3.5/5 Stars

R.I.P. Gloria DeHaven (1925-2016)

Posted on July 31, 2016 by 4 Star Films

I did a double take when I saw an article indicating the passings of the Classic Hollywood musical starlet Gloria DeHaven. She was 91. I could have sworn I just was thinking about her recently and I was. Just last week I came across her in a publicity still with two other young stars who I’ve since forgotten. The three of them were sitting at a table at some gala and they were unfamiliar but in that image DeHaven left an impression on me.

So being the good historian that I am, I quickly scrolled to her filmography and Summer Stock (1950) was the film that stuck out to me. I’ve seen bits and pieces of the Kelly/Garland musical but DeHaven is in that film too. Without giving it much thought, I pushed the musical up higher in my mental queue so I would eventually get a chance to see this actress who was still with us. After all, the stars are getting fewer and fewer as reflected by Wikipedia’s handy page. It’s sad really.

And this brings me to the realization once more that although it may be sad when we lose another star, in this case, I felt like I had just met Gloria DeHaven, it is rather extraordinary that with stars past and present we have film rolls that will keep their personas alive for years to come. Time is a curious thing. Because as it marches on people are forgotten and history is lost. But that makes the transcendence of film pretty remarkable.

I look forward to hopefully getting to know you better Ms. DeHaven. My watchlist now includes Thousands Cheer, Summer Stock and yet another viewing of Modern Times (apparently she plays the Gamine’s sister). I already have a deeper appreciation for her.

R.I.P. Gloria DeHaven.

Elevator to the Gallows (1958)

Posted on July 31, 2016 by 4 Star Films

“This affair like a Racine tragedy will be over in 24 hours”

Elevator to the Gallows was the debut of Louis Malle, a man who found success in both his native France and the United States. In truth, it’s an easy bit of delectable icy noir to enjoy, because it goes down quite effortlessly. From the cold open this film remains ridiculously cool, boasting a score from jazz visionary Miles Davis that dances and sways in sensual rhythm with the images onscreen. Recently I’ve gone through somewhat of a minor Jazz epiphany and Davis was a major instigator of that.

For all intent and purposes, this is the film that made Jeanne Moreau into an icon to be noticed. She’s not the same type of beauty as Brigitte Bardot or Catherine Deneuve, but this film shed some light on why she stands out among the best of France’s leading ladies. Really she’s the only character who we get inside the head of — we hear her thoughts as they drift in and out of her mind. Also, out of everyone, Malle allows his camera to dwell the longest on the face of Moreau with few distractions. We see her wander the streets listlessly, checking her complexion in windows, and somberly gliding upstream as cars speed past on all sides. It’s as if she’s constantly living in a dreamy alternate reality that is only broken when she must actually interact with the humans that inhabit the space that exists around her. But how did she get here?

Back to that cold open. Florence is communicating with her lover Julien, as they put their plan into action. It all happens so fast as the credits flash on the screen, but soon enough we gather that he plans to kill her husband, so the two of them can finally be together. So, in other words, it feels like some kind of love triangle with Florence Carala. As a former paratrooper deployed in Indo-China and then Algeria, Julien is more than capable of carrying out the task. It requires scaling a building on a rope, taking the shot to finish off the condescending war profiteer Mr. Carala, framing it as a suicide, and then making a getaway without anyone being wise.

All the pieces fall together, but Julien forgot one thing. The rope is still hanging there! He rushes up to fix his mistake, but on the way down another employee unwittingly shuts down the lift, and now Julien is stuck in the elevator with no easy way to get out of his jam. He is sure to be caught. It’s a tense spot he’s in, but really that’s not where the heart of the story lies because Julien remains where he is for much of the film.

The other arc feels closely tied to The French New Wave Movement as an angsty young man decides to take Julien’s sweet ride for a spin and his reluctant girlfriend takes part in their little escapade. Their final destination is a hotel where they decide to register as Mr. and Mrs. Julien Taverner because it’s bound to be a good bit of fun. They even get chummy with a pair of German tourists and the champagne flows freely.

Meanwhile, elevatorto1 an anxious Mrs. Carala begins to listlessly comb the streets trying to gather what happened to her lover. Where did he go? Julien
still sits in the elevator trying to rig a way out as the cigarette stubs pile around him. The good times of young lovers Louis and Veronique soon turn sour when the boy loses his temper and with that, all rationality goes out the window. As Godard once quipped all you need for a film is a girl and a gun, and in this case, it rings true.

Now Julien is wanted for a murder he did not commit and is still the unknown perpetrator of yet another murder that has yet to be uncovered. When he finally breaks out of his prison the following morning, he inadvertently walks into a big heap of trouble. But it is Louis and Florence, who end up back at the scene of the crime where a dark room becomes their downfall.

4.5/5 Stars

Late Autumn (1960)

Posted on July 28, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Yasujiro Ozu has the esteem of being christened “The Most Japanese Filmmaker.” It’s certainly a high honor, but at first, it can feel rather counter-intuitive because after all, such a great master of cinema cannot be considered average or a composite in the scheme of Japanese film history. And I don’t think that is what this title is trying to get at. The fact is that Ozu, over time, really experimented with the conventions written by classical western filmmakers and he built his own unique aesthetic that is quite evident later in his career. That being said, his film’s are very Japanese in the way they interact with and dissect the culture that he comes out of, and I think that is paramount to understanding and ultimately appreciating his work.

It’s no different with Late Autumn, Ozu’s penultimate film, a social-familial drama that shares a great deal of similarity to some of his earlier work. The fact is, he’s constantly returning to these ideas of marriage, family, generational differences, and the underlying etiquette that is so prevalent in Japan and Asian cultures in general. But of course, much of what he examines is universal and that’s what allows his films to remain timeless.

With Late Autumn, in particular, it’s easy to marvel at how the director frames his space because he seems to have tremendous spatial recognition. He’s confident in his aesthetics which he highlights with colors and axis lines, which are then further embellished with human subjects. Not many directors are brazen enough to show us an empty room, a hallway, or the mundane facade of a building, but Ozu is so self-assured in his composition. They are too long and occur too often to be establishing shots. He wants to continually convey to us the space that his characters inhabit and he’s meticulous. Everything is placed with pinpoint precision just the way he wants. And it shows.

On a basic level, Late Autumn can meld nicely with many of the director’s other works also based around the seasons. In this color installment, three adult men gather for the funeral of one of their mutual childhood friends. It’s a sad occasion as they wistfully remember the good old days when they were young and in love. But as a service to their deceased friend, they agree to find a husband for his sweet sunshine-faced daughter Ayako (Yoko Tsukasa). However, they also worry for his widower Akiko (Setsuko Hara), who is equally beautiful, since the years have been very good to her. What follows is the typical fumbling attempts at matchmaking, trading manners, and so on. When Mr. Mamiya inquires if he should ask for a young man’s picture and resume, we assume it’s a joke, but he’s quite serious.

What makes Autumn different than earlier classics like Late Spring or even Tokyo Story, is that it shows the next generation of young people. The kids embrace the rockability of Elvis while reading Mickey Mouse cartoons. The young adults are folks who have grown up in the specter of WWII. They want to leave behind the world of useless honor and restraint.They speak their minds and show their discontent.

I enjoy the light touches of humor injected into this film because the three chums sit around the bar making observations with a bouncy score that seems more at home in a Tati comedy. Sometimes they’re genuinely trying to be funny, but more often it’s hilarious because they’re actually so dysfunctional. They take on this task of watching over their friend’s family with all seriousness, but they get sidetracked by their own desires and personal concerns. They stir up rumors, make waves, and ultimately cause a lot of trouble. Everything gets muddled and it’s the blunt and frank assertions of young Yuriko (Mariko Okada) that points out their failures. She sees how they have made a mess of things and calls them out for it. Perhaps it feels abrasive, but I think they like her for it and the audience does as well. She’s a reflection of this new generation that’s not looking to mince words or hide behind social etiquette. They’re fed up with that type of lifestyle. In fact, Yuriko is the one who says marriage is the worst. The ideal would be if love and marriage always went together, but they don’t.

Thus, although the relationship between Ayako and her mother takes center stage as the film progresses, Yuriko is extremely pivotal. It’s the lives of the first two women that are affected by the unintentional bungling of these men, but it is Yuriko, who signifies change for the better. In many ways, this story feels very similar to Late Spring in particular, but the interest is not so much in original ideas as it is in re-imagining ideas. It’s a film for the 1960s where men are slowly losing their vice-like grip and societal norms are changing as women move to the forefront. But what remains are the suggestion that it’s alright to push back against societal pressures, and interpersonal relationships are delicate flowers that must be cultivated with care. So easily they can be trampled and destroyed. It takes a certain type of person to acknowledge their own faults while persistently loving those around them.

This is the utmost compliment, but in many ways, Setsuko Hara reminds me a great deal of my own grandmother, a woman who radiated a genuine kindness that was apparent to everyone who walked through life alongside her. Bless their souls. Both of them.

4.5/5 Stars

Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)

Posted on July 26, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Recently I was thinking about who I would characterize as favorite directors versus directors that I simply respect. In the latter category, I would stick the likes of Quentin Tarantino, The Coen Brothers, and Wes Anderson. Because truth be told, I do not always like or even enjoy all their films, but I can still appreciate them. They have their own unique artistic visions when it comes to making movies and that comes out of the fact that they know the lineage that they are derivative of. That’s something that cannot be taken lightly.

I think I would same the same of the work of Woody Allen, and he truly is a special icon of film. There’s no saying that his work is not original because each film bears his mark, but it also takes cues from the past.The utmost compliment I can give Hannah and Her Sisters is the fact that it might be one of my favorite Allen films thus far, behind Annie Hall. It does noticeably take cues from the likes of Bergman and Bunuel however, but that does not detract from its own charms.

It begins and continues throughout with rather arbitrary inter-titles written in white letters over a black background. But it’s the perfect embodiment of Allen’s style of writing to go along with his typically anachronistic scores that nevertheless elevate the charm of his films. What follows is an engaging storytelling set piece extended over three Thanksgiving dinners with Hannah (Mia Farrow) and her two sisters. Holly (Diane Wiest) is the aspiring actress, who has run a catering service on the side while fighting a drug problem and trying to figure out her love life. Lee (Barbara Hershey) is a natural beauty, who lives with an older intellectual named Frederick (Max Von Sydow). She has also unwittingly made a conquest of her sister’s respectable husband Elliot (Michael Caine), who nevertheless gets quite nervous in her presence.

This is a film about their families — their interconnected lives that constantly fluctuate and change dynamically with every passing month and holiday. Their lives go from the invariably awkward, to the tragic, and finally, find their perfect equilibrium. The voices inside their heads are constantly active with fears, thoughts, and desires.

What’s perhaps most striking about this film is the great depth of the cast. Maureen O’Sullivan stars next to her real-life daughter. Carrie Fisher makes an appearance as Holly’s friend and rival. Even Daniel Stern, Julie Louis Dreyfuss, and Allen regular Tony Roberts pop up in various moments. Perhaps most spectacularly of all, Allen himself commands the spotlight as anxious hypochondriac Mickey Sacks. Essentially it’s the character that Allen always takes on, but in this case, he stuck himself in almost a B-plot. He gets his chance to swim in his fatalism, pessimism, and philosophical dialogues about God and religion. In fact, it is quite reminiscent of Bergman in this respect, but from a uniquely Allenesque perspective. His awkward jokes (eg. I had a great time tonight it was like the Nuremberg trials) make me crack a smile or let out a genuine chuckle in spite of myself. Bergman would never do that to me, but Allen enters that territory while going so far as casting von Sydow in a slight nod to his Swedish hero.

But really all of this is set to the greater backdrop of the familial drama. That’s where the meat and potatoes of this story lie and in this dynamic, there is a lot of genuinely great moments. One of the most memorable is also one of the most difficult when the three sisters gather together over lunch and their relationships seem to be falling apart in front of our eyes. As it goes with the passage of time, things eventually turn out okay and another holiday gathering comes. Each sister is content with where they’re at and so are their spouses. It’s probably one of the most upbeat Allen movies I can think of, if only it were not besmirched by his own personal life. But that’s a dialogue for a different time. After all, this film is really about Hannah and Her Sisters.

4.5/5 Stars