Review: Rear Window (1954)

Hitchcock_stills_0006_rear-windowWho in their right mind would make a film that takes place in a courtyard? Rear Window has always been fascinating from a technical standpoint, and Alfred Hitchcock is certainly not “The Master of Suspense” for nothing. He uses the confined space of a single Greenwich Village courtyard with an incapacitated individual to truly build the tension to immeasurable heights. The events within the film are often highly bemusing as Hitchcock has a wicked sense of humor, whether Jefferies is trying desperately to scratch that itch or the conversation turns morbid as he tries to eat breakfast.

The script has so many great little moments of back in forth repartee; some supplied by the always dynamic Thelma Ritter who plays the nurse with a lot of advice and opinions about rear window ethics: “We’ve become a race of peeping toms. What people ought to do is get outside their own house and look in for a change. Yes, sir. How’s that for a bit of home-spun philosophy.

James Stewart is always a pleasure, but this time around he is perhaps at his most constrained as famed photographer L.B. Jefferies, who is laid up in his apartment for weeks on end with a leg in a cast. He got the injury thanks in part to his last big photo shoot where he ran in front of an oncoming race car. With nothing better to do, he spends his idle moments people watching and getting to know his neighbors. That’s one way to put it at least. As an actor, Stewart is stuck and relegated to conveying his whole performance through his gaze and the dialogue he speaks to those few who come in and out to see him. Most of what he’s doing is simply looking across the way and yet it works.

His neighbors are as follows:

There’s Ms. Torso who is an aspiring dancer and always the target of many men. There’s Ms. Lonelyheart who never can find the love she so desires. A washed-up composer spends the entire film trying to figure out his newest project (even getting a visit from Hitchcock himself). There are the newlyweds who hardly ever leave their bedroom because they’re doing something… Then, comes the older couple on the second floor with a cute little dog and the sculptor who lives below.

Most interesting of all is the couple directly across the way from Jefferies’ because that’s where a long-suffering husband and his wife live. All seems normal, to begin with, however, Jefferies begins to have his suspicions thanks to circumstantial evidence and no sign of Mrs. Thorwald. His first thoughts immediately shoot to murder, but it seems highly unlikely. Day and night he continues to watch seeming to get more evidence, only to have his theories crushed, and then gain new hope through more evidence.

James_Stewart_in_Rear_Window_trailerThe interesting part is that as an audience we are fully involved in this story. We see much of the picture from Jefferies’ apartment, because there is no place to go, and so we stay inside the confines of the complex. In this way, Hitchcock creates a lot of Rear Window‘s  plot out of actions occurring and then the reactions that follow. We are constantly being fed a scene and then immediately being shown the gaze of Jefferies. It effectively pulls us into this position of a peeping tom too. Danger keeps on creeping closer and closer as he discovers more and more. The narrative continues to progress methodically from day to night to the next day and the next evening.

In the climactic moments, he finally faces the man who he always looked in at from the outside and yet by the end the roles are reversed with Jefferies space being fully invaded, and yet he can do little to flee, because of his cast. Hitchcock cuts it in such a choppy and chaotic way which breaks with the smooth continuity of the rest of the film, but it works so wonderfully in stark juxtaposition.

This is one of the main appeals of Rear Window because it has this Hitchcockian story of murder, mystery, and suspense. However, I am constantly eager to revisit this story, since there are so many other intricacies that are of interest.

Although the film uses a score by Franz Waxman, the majority of the sounds heard are diegetic and they either are street noises or music wafting around the courtyard from one of the apartments.  Also, there is only one small outlet to the outside world. At times, it becomes fun to survey what is going on whether it is kids playing on the street corner or cars passing back and forth. It builds this sense of realism suggesting that this world that has been created is larger than this one set full of apartment buildings.

Another important element is themes of romance and love. Jefferies comes into the film with issues in his own love life. His girl is the elegant and refined Lisa Fremont (Grace Kelly), who seems perfect, too perfect in his estimation. In his mind, they just don’t seem compatible enough, and he cannot see marrying her. It’s something they have to work through because she truly loves him.

Really every character essentially has a different outlook on love and different struggles, because romance is never an easy thing. Like the lyricist’s song, it is so often fragmented, but in their case, Jefferies and Lisa seem to figure things out just as the song finally gets finished. The moment where you can see it in Jefferies’ face that he is both impressed and worried for Lisa’s safety seems to be the time when things change. He realizes his love for her since she is very dear. He quits his thinking and his analyzing of their relationship, as gut-wrenching emotions take over when she is caught. In a sense, he listens to Stella’s earlier advice: “Look, Mr. Jefferies, I’m not an educated woman, but I can tell you one thing. When a man and a woman see each other and like each other they ought to come together – wham! Like a couple of taxis on Broadway, not sit around analyzing each other like two specimens in a bottle.”

Wendell Corey, in his supporting role as Jefferies’ friend and the police detective, is a man who can be a skeptic and still prove his loyalty as a friend. They can be at odds and still poke fun at each other with mutual affection. It feels real. Raymond Burr as the villainous Lars Thorwald works well too because he is certainly an angry, unfriendly grouch, but he does not seem altogether evil. It shows how easy it is for the lines to be blurred.

rear-window-first-shot-of-gkAbove all, Grace Kelly shines opposite Jimmy Stewart. There’s no one quite like her, so elegant, eloquent, with a touch of playfulness and adventure. She is willing to fight for her man and even go out on a limb for him (ie. breaking into Thorwalds’ apartment). One of the film’s most extraordinary images, out of many, has to be when a shadow covers the face of Stewart as he rests. Then there is a close-up of Kelly, her face slowly descending towards him. It’s hard to forget and for the rest of the film, she attempts to not let him forget her.

It’s not often easy for me to make statements like this, but Rear Window has to be close to my favorite film of all time. Yes, I said it. It never gets old for me, and I pick out new things every time. It’s more than just a mystery thriller. Hitchcock made it a technical marvel that is also steeped in themes of love and ethical questions. The players are the best of the best from James Stewart, to Grace Kelly, to Thelma Ritter, all down the line. It’s at times deliberate, but never boring, completely immersing the viewer into this drama as a firsthand witness. It’s the type of cinema we just don’t get every day because it has everything and it cuts to the core — to the most visceral level. That is the sign of cinematic greatness.

5/5 Stars

Lost In Translation (2003)

Lost_in_Translation_posterStarring Bill Murray and Scarlett Johannson with direction by Sofia Coppola, this film is set in the fast-paced, technological, and modern world of Tokyo, Japan. That is where Bob and Charlotte find themselves and they both are lost, simply going through the motions of life. He is a middle-aged, former movie star filming a whiskey commercial. She is a newly-married wife of a fashion photographer. Despite their age differences, they find out that they have a lot in common. Over the week they spend time together in Tokyo and become friends. When the time comes for Bob to leave neither one wants their time to end. They say goodbye but do not forget each other. This film was enjoyable because it portrayed two people who could be good friends without getting romantically attached, at least in the conventional sense.

I must say that this type of friendship intrigues me. It is understandable that if you go to a foreign country alone it would be nice to have someone you could at least converse with, without any barrier getting in the way. It might be at Narita airport for a moment, at a Hotel, or walking the streets of Shinjuku.  It would act as a comfort in a world like Tokyo that is so fast paced and high stress. These unusual circumstances could throw together two very different people, with little in common except the language they speak. That is something that does not happen every day.

Needless to say, after gaining the opportunity to visit Tokyo two years in a row it has given me some new insight. I can now wholly empathize with Bob and Charlotte because although I knew a few people, Tokyo is such a highly populated, fast-paced world that seems so easy to get lost and overwhelmed in. There is so much to see, so many lights, so many hurrying folks, so many subway lines, so many surgical masks, so much etiquette, and so much technology. True, some of my ancestors were Japanese but the language still baffles me, making it very easy to get “Lost in Translation.” Being in Tokyo it also helped me realize that it is not only tourists who get lost. It has been over 10 years since this film came out and a lot can happen in that time like more Starbucks and McDonalds on every corner.

Despite the westernization and technological advancement, Tokyo also has a time-worn aspect, and its people are often worn as well. They might not be lost because of a literal language barrier. However, they, like Bob and Charlotte, are often lost because they have difficulty getting close to their peers. Often they, like the two protagonists, seem to be searching for someone to talk to, but in their case manners keep others at arm’s length. Coppola’s film gained an even more personal note now that I have walked in these places and interacted with or at least walked alongside the Japanese people. They like anyone else can be “Lost in Translation,” it just might be a different type of “language” than what we struggle with. They too are humans who have their share of struggles, worries, joys, hopes, and dreams. Hopefully, this type of understanding will help us transcend any barriers so we no longer find ourselves “Lost in Translation.”

4.5/5 Stars

Review: The Odd Couple (1968)

8ca16-oddcouple1By now The Odd Couple is rather like returning to an old group of friends. Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau never had a better pairing than their turns as Felix Ungar and Oscar Madison. The roles seem to fit each man to the tee or at least they make them their own. Lemmon is as hilarious as ever playing the neat freak, hypochondriac who was recently divorced. He drove his wife crazy because he cooked better than her, cleaned more, and was allergic to her perfume. She had to put on his aftershave instead. Then, there’s Matthau reprising his stage role of Oscar the slob of a sportswriter with an affinity for messiness. Droopy jowls courtesy of Matthau. Put them together and you have some of the greatest comedic fireworks ever, and it’s so simple. You see, all the poker playing gang is nervous that Felix will commit suicide, which he attempts during the film’s opening sequence, but he cannot get the window open. Thus, Oscar obliges to take in his buddy with the rest of the buddies keeping a wary eye on Felix. It’s hilarious to watch them because they really care about Felix, but they have no idea how to act around him. They think every move will be his last.

Oscar does not know what he’s gotten into since Felix cleans up after him, follows him with an ashtray when he smokes, does the dishes, vacuums, sprays air freshener incessantly, and even distracts Oscar from a triple pay while telling him the evening’s dinner plans. Then there’s Felix allergies, his high maintenance, and yes, his pouting. He even ruins weekly poker night with cigar smoke replaced by fresh air and disinfected playing cards.

Bring in the twittering Pigeon Sisters Gwendolyn and Cecily and you’re bound to have more laughs, until Felix the killjoy hurts the mood. Now we truly begin to see Oscar’s sour side which was mostly saved for his former wife Blanche. Now it is specially reserved for Felix and his maddening cleanliness that’s gone too far. Oscar has a nervous breakdown and blows his top chasing Felix out. But Oscar is not a bad guy, Felix is his friend after all, and so enter the poker buddies once more to go searching for Felix. He has been taken in by the Pigeons and the two friends make up. As it turns out, the two men rubbed off on each other, but there’ no chance of completely changing them. They will always be The Odd Couple, just separate now.

The Odd Couple has such a wonderful mythology surrounding it thanks to Neil Simon’s play, the film adaption, and then the television show. Furthermore, it is one of those very special cases that was great on both the big and small screen, since Jack Klugman and Tony Randall were wonderful in their own right. Focusing on this film, the dialogue is not forcing the humor, and it ultimately leads to genuinely funny lines coming out of the circumstances. The poker playing buddies are a riot from Florida-bound Vinnie (John Fielder) to nervous cop Murray (Herb Edelman). The opening of the film is made by Neal Hefti’s theme, and I’ve got to say, the sequence where Felix has his sinus attack is priceless. Without fail it puts me in stitches everytime as the weirded out Oscar looks on along with everyone else. I cannot help but love The Odd Couple. By now it’s too ingrained in me and that’s fine by me.

4.5/5 Stars

A Letter to Three Wives (1949)

A_letter_to_three_wives_movie_posterHere is a story about three wives, the three husbands that go with them, and the one woman who got in the middle of them all. The main plot device is simply this: This woman named Addie Grace, who we never see but who is always being referred to, has left town and she also left a letter addressed to the three wives. The women get it as they board a boat for an afternoon out at sea with some underprivileged children. When they read what it says their afternoon takes a major turn. The one and only Addie Ross has run off with one of their husbands and yet she does not say who it is.

The rest of their time is spent thinking back on their marriages and each recollection is framed as a long flashback. First, comes Deborah Bishop (Jeanne Crain), a farm girl who met her husband during the war. Now with his friends back home she wishes to make a good impression, but she feels like she can never measure up with such elite society. To make matters worse, she learns that before the war it was thought that Brad would marry Addie Grace because they grew up together.

Next, comes Rita Phipps (Ann Sothern), who puts on an extra special dinner for her bosses from the radio station she writes for. The night includes a forgotten birthday, sappy radio programs, and all the while Rita is constantly trying to please and appease her bosses. They enjoy the evening but her husband George is upset that she constantly caves to them. To make matters worse, as a school teacher, it is difficult for him, as the man of the house, to have her bring in a great deal of their income.

Last but not least is Lora Mae Hollingsway (Linda Darnell) who grew up in a poor household near the train tracks with her mother and younger sister. She focuses her attention on Porter Hollingsway (her future husband), an older divorced man who also happens to own a chain of department stores. After a great deal of back and forth, they get married but underlying their marriage is this assumption that she only went after him for his money. Their relationship hardly seems to involve true love.

All three women return to their lives. Rita is grateful to find George sitting in the living room. Porter, who Lora Mae half expected to be gone, has come into the house exhausted after a long day of work. Deborah is seemingly not so lucky. All of them get ready for the dance that evening with their spirits all at different levels. However, after Porter shares a revelation the evening gets a whole lot better.

This Joseph L. Mankiewicz precursor to All About Eve is a remarkable drama in its own right thanks to its primary narrative device and fine performances from the cast. Thelma Ritter was as entertaining as ever and Celeste Holme was tantalizing as the unseen voice of Addie. It is interesting how all the stories of the film interconnect characters, making us come to understand each and every one of them a little better. The ending was slightly abrupt but still clever. All in all, A Letter to Three Wives was an interesting concept that paid off beautifully.

4.5/5 Stars

Selma (2014)

Selma_posterMartin Luther King’s legacy will always be the “I Have a Dream” Speech. It’s a crowning moment in history with iconic images and soaring rhetoric. But Doctor King was far more than that. He was a minister, a social activist, and a champion of equality, justice, and peace. Selma is the film his story deserves, taking a magnifying glass to the events surrounding the 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama which led President Lyndon B. Johnson to pass the Voting Rights Act of 1965.

So much had already happened. We had Rosa Parks, Sit-ins, Freedom Riders, Malcolm X, the march on Washington, the assassination of President Kennedy and of course the Civil Rights Act of 1964. In the upcoming years, there would be the further escalation of the war in Vietnam, riots in Watts, The Black Panther Party and the assassinations of both Robert Kennedy and Dr. King in 1968. The social unrest was far from over, just like it is not over now. That’s part of what makes Selma so poignant because it is certainly a necessary historical reminder and its relevance remains evident today.

Honestly, the film at times felt rough around the edges and not always the most aesthetically pleasing. For lack of a better word, it felt choppy. That was only a personal observation and not something to get too hung up on though. After all, at its core, Selma is about the characters and the moment of history they were living in. There were some spectacular performances starting with Englishman David Oyelowo as Doctor King himself. He exudes the quiet strength and displays the deliberate but powerful voice that made King the champion of all that was good and right. He is not a perfect man or perfect husband, but he was a man of God who remained true to his convictions and his friends and family.

Ever since I did some reading up on him, LBJ has always been a fascinating character to me, because he was the ultimate politician who was able to accomplish so much and yet he will always have a tarnished legacy due to Vietnam. He is played impeccably by Tom Wilkinson with the imposing figure, southern drawl, and strong will all there. LBJ is at odds with King on occasion and in him you can see a man with a job that no person would desire, trying to make political decisions that no one would want to. Somehow, through it all, the Voting Rights Act was still passed. Then, of course, you have other players like the living legend and present congressman John Lewis as well as Southern Governor and primary villain George Wallace, who seemingly turned his life around in his later years.

Even down to the smallest roles, Selma has power. We begin to see depictions of real-life individuals who lived in a world of fear and disempowerment. Where southern whites ruled with their racist ways and blacks looked for a much-needed answer to the death and suffering. Doctor King was able to lead the movement and yet he had help from friends and the common man as well — black and white. It is interesting how many of the figures who ultimately answered King’s stirring call to action were often pastors, priests, and other clergymen. It’s as if they realized that this was not just a race issue, it was a moral issue, an issue of justice, and ultimately a personal conviction. How could they live hypocritical lives of the status quo while so much was left to be healed in the South? We could ask the same questions of our society now.

The film interestingly enough led many songs to float through my head. There’s Sam Cooke’s “A Change is Gonna Come.” Bob Dylan’s “Only a Pawn in Their Game.” Dion’s “Abraham, Martin, John” and Barry Maguire’s “Eve of Destruction” to name a few fitting tunes.  For that matter, even the award winning anthem “Glory” could have been played during the film and that would have made sense. And yet Selma finds its sound in more traditional tunes that lend a true authenticity to the story that is surprisingly effective.

To say that Selma really resonated is a given. The images of force and brutality, bitter prejudice, billy clubs, and tear gas are still disturbing. They should be and they should never fail to outrage us. But I think there were several times where I was really struck with the weight of all of this. The first being when King kneeled down to pray and all the masses joined him. Such a display was so visceral and moving. Also, the archive footage showing the final march was a cheering reminder that equality and change by peaceful means are possible. Dr. Martin Luther King sadly did not make it to the Promise Land, but he led the United States and his people ever closer. For that, we all owe him an incredible debt of gratitude and for that very reason, we must never forget Selma.

4.5/5 Stars

Birdman (2014)

Birdman_posterIn the opening shot, a man is in his tidy-whities levitating in midair. This is one of those films that can never be figured out completely or never fully dissected in its entirety. It’s a meta film on a whole lot of levels. You could say that Michael Keaton is playing a version of himself named Riggan Thomson. He used to be a superstar in the popular superhero series Birdman. That ended back in 1992. Now he’s old and washed up attempting to revive himself in an adaptation of a Raymond Carver play. Robert Downey Jr. is the guy with the type of box office draw that he used to have.  He is constantly fighting his own inner demons that play like the voice of the Birdman in his head. The character he used to be is so closely tied to his identity that Riggan has trouble getting away from it.

The film follows the loss of one of their lead actors to an accident, and there is a rush to find someone else before their first preview showing. They want Michael Fassbender or Jeremy Renner and yet they do get lucky in Mike Shiner (Edward Shiner). However, much like Norton in real life, Shiner proves to be a handful, but also a star performer who the public love. Riggan needs him and his best friend and lawyer Jake (Zach Galifianakis) pleads with him to say with Shiner. All the previews are a disaster: Mike breaks character over some gin and he tries to have sex with actress and former lover Lesley (Naomi Watts) on stage. To add insult to injury, Riggans locks himself out of the theater and thus begins his frantic pilgrimage through Time Square in only his underwear.

birdman1Riggans wrote, directed, and acts in this play to overcompensate for all his failures. He even refinances his house to cover the cost. He’s spent. His daughter and former drug addict Sam (Emma Stone) is his assistant, and although they don’t see eye to eye, they try to be real with each other. She too is a screw-up, but she sees in him someone who confuses love for adoration. He worries about relevancy, fading away, and he is scared to death that he might not matter. In as many words, she tells him to join the club because every member of humanity has these same fears nearly every day of their existence. He is no different.

Following the final preview, critic Tabitha Dickinson says she will tear his play apart because he is one of those Hollywood celebrities masquerading as an actor. After a rough evening, the Birdman comes back to haunt him before the big opening.

Then, opening night comes and Riggan seems strangely aloof on a night with so much riding on it. He does the unthinkable when in his final scene he uses a real gun and points and fires it at himself. The crowds are as surprised as the viewer before bursting into thunderous applause. Riggan has unwittingly become a sensation on Twitter and on the theater circuit.

The story ends in the hospital with Riggan reconciling himself with his daughter Sam. It looks like it could take a fatal turn because the specter of Birdman still remains, and yet along with Sam we get to see something extraordinary, and at the same time ridiculous, happen. They don’t call him Birdman for nothing.

Birdman has received a great deal of notice for its cinematography that was spliced together to look like one continuous shot. At first, it feels a bit gimmicky watching the camera self-consciously spiral around the actors, but it slowly becomes the routine. It feels like a Goodfellas tracking shot on steroids, and it certainly hearkens back to Hitchcock’s Rope as we often find ourselves following characters from behind down hallways or going from interiors to exteriors. It’s certainly a different perspective of the world.birdman3There are moments that it looked like Edward Norton or Emma Stone might steal the show, but by the end, it is still evident that this is Michael Keaton’s film. This is a story about his struggle. This is his version of Sunset Boulevard that he must overcome. It also has an overarching blend of magic and realism that makes it hard to parse through what the true reality is. But by the end that is far from necessary, because this is a meta experience that is layered and inverted in such a way that makes it fascinating. We think we have our feet on the ground, firmly planted, but we never do, and we are never allowed to.

At times it feels rather like we are in Manet’s painting Bar at the Folies Bergere. It becomes difficult to tell if we are in the audience are simply part of the film. We lose ourselves in the metaness that acts as the thin dividing line between what is real and what is fictitious. There is a cinematic magic in that just as there is a kind of supernatural energy in Riggan Thomson himself.

However, he does not get wholly lost in that, because he is a messed-up human being like the rest of us. No matter how mystical he is, there still is an unmistakable resonance to his story. Thomson would be happy to know that he is relevant just like we are all relevant in some way, shape, or form. It’s all subjective. It just depends on who you ask or what critic says what. In reality, it doesn’t really matter a whole lot.

Honestly, it failed to hit me until afterward,  Birdman is a humorous film where the humor often gets forgotten behind the more philosophical and human aspects. There’s nothing quite like it. It takes its cues from Sunset Boulevard, Jean-Luc Godard, Dr. Strangelove, Batman and undoubtedly so much more, but it is distinctively the creation of Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu.

4.5/5 Stars

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964)

umbrellas1 It is hard to remember a time when I was so devastatingly sad due to a film, and it does not leave a deep hurt but a more wistful despondency that is far more real. However, that’s enough misery for the time being. Directed by Jacques Demy and starring an exquisitely young Catherine Deneuve, this cinematic opera is a moving musical piece that looks to be conventional and turns out to be quite the opposite. 

The story begins in November of 1957 with a young mechanic named Guy (Nino Castelnuovo) who is deeply in love with the beautiful 16-year-old Genevieve (Deneuve). Guy cares a great deal for his godmother Elise who has a caregiver to look after her. Genevieve helps out her mother in running a small umbrellas shop in Cherbourg which allows them to scrape by. They must sell some family heirlooms to a kindly jeweler who is smitten with Genevieve. However, Genevieve and Guy have plans of marriage until Guy learns suddenly that he has been drafted for the war in Algeria. They spend their last hours together, and she vows to wait for his return. 

umbrellas7In the following months, it becomes evident that Genevieve is pregnant, but her mother tells her that Guy has probably forgotten her already. The jeweler, Roland Cassard (Marc Michel), professes his love for Genevieve and agrees to adopt her unborn child. Thus, partially on the urging of her mother Genevieve accepts his proposal and they are soon married leaving Cherbourg for good. 

Finally, Guy returns from the war and things have changed. He now has a limp and is fed up with his old work at the garage. Furthermore, the Umbrellas shop is sold and Genevieve is wed and gone. Adding insult to injury his godmother soon passes away. With no one else to turn to, he looks to the caretaker Madeleine, and he realizes her love for him. They get married and he turns his life around with her help. 

The years pass, and now during Christmas of 1963, a car pulls into Guy’s new gas station. After many years, the two former lovers come face to face once more. Now they have marriages and children, and their interactions are painfully aloof. They have moved on with their lives and they have moved on from their passionate romance. 

umbrellas13True, their lives have become sensible, but in this opera that Demy has constructed, this conclusion is sad and bittersweet. And yet if this were the only painful moment that would be one thing, but there are so many that touch the heart and move the viewer. When Guy goes off to the army and takes off on the train we can feel the great weight of anguish. More often than not, you can read the sadness on the face of these characters which complement the beautiful ballads they utter. In other words, it’s one thing to recount the plot and quite another to watch the events unfold.

I have to say that I had never seen a film that played out entirely through song, and even in the opening sequence, Demy consciously melds the diverse forms of film and opera. Umbrellas has the vibrancy and color of movies and takes the dramatic story line and songs of opera, to create a unique piece of musical artistry complete with acts and all. Its colors are bright and vibrant–utterly distinct in their composition. Everything from the bikes to the umbrellas and even back alleyways are beautiful. Although there are many magnificent melodies, rather surprisingly there is not one specific song that stands out (Well, maybe the theme), but instead, it plays rather like one continuous song with different sections and overtures that complement while not overshadowing each other.

umbrellas4Demy’s earlier film Lola also gives an interesting insight into the character of Roland Cassard who once again becomes acquainted with a mother and her daughter in a shop. This time around he has accomplished his dream of traveling the world as a diamond merchant, however, Lola is still heavy on his heart. Another thing that is remarkable about the film is the weather which in many ways plays as another character. The varying degrees of rain and snow dictate the mood and shift with the changing seasons. There’s no doubt that Jacques Demy and his collaborator Michel Legrand created something special here that elevates the musical to a heartfelt tragedy of romance. That’s something many men would not be brave enough to do. 

4.5/5 Stars

Review: Playtime (1967)

playtime1Playtime is a film that really can be broken into a number of set pieces elaborately constructed by director Jacques Tati. The vignettes begin, surprisingly enough, in an airport terminal, and a group of excited Americans are getting ready for a Parisian vacation. Mr. Hulot (Tati himself) is waiting to have a meeting in a glass office building, however, he soon gets lost in a maze of cubicles, playing cat and mouse with his contact.

Quite by accident, he wanders into an international trade exhibition and the tourists just happen to be there too. While there they are introduced to the latest gizmos, gadgets, and inventions to move society forward. They include silently slamming doors and retractable glasses. In typical Tati fashion, he gives us a glimpse of the old world from Mon Oncle. All that is left is one meager flower stand and a brief reflection of the Eiffel Tower.

Bumping into an old war buddy, M. Hulot is invited over and thus begins a long sequence in an apartment building. What makes it unusual is that the audience is left out on the street, but we can see multiple interiors through the glass. Thus, the conversation becomes unimportant, and the charades inside paired with the street noise is all we notice.

One of the most substantial sequences takes place in a place called The Golden Corkscrew. It is a packed house and the nightclub barely seems prepared for such an evening. Tiles are loose, food runs out, a band member comes late, the chairs leave marks on the backs of patrons, and much much more. Hulot stumbles in and comes in contact with several previous acquaintances. He also makes a few new friends including a boisterous American and a friendly female tourist.

After the crazy night, the morning comes and Hulot says goodbye to his new American friend but not before leaving her with a parting gift to remember her memorable time in Paris. It may not be the Paris of old, but it is still a cheery place made by its people who still remain the same even when the times change.

Jacques Tati’s Playtime took numerous years to complete and it was the most expensive French production at the time. It makes sense though because it truly is a magnificent piece of cinema. It is full of beautifully choreographed sequences and elaborate sets. Mr. Hulot often finds himself wandering through this labyrinth of modern Parisian humanity. Tati teases us, however, filling his world with Hulot doppelgangers.

Even when the gangly protagonist is on screen, he often pops off and on for minutes on end. He is no longer the primary focus of the film. Tati also takes great interest in the sterile modern society of glass, steel, and technology. The screen is filled with a wide array of individuals, which makes it fascinating to simply people watch. Furthermore, Tati almost refuses to use closeups, thus allowing the camera to capture more.

Playtime is slightly slower, to begin with than I remember, but it has wonderfully subdued humor paired with social commentary. Tati’s film may not have a lot of decipherable dialogue, but there sure is a great deal of noise. His sound effects seem to rival The Three Stooges in comical impact, often filling the void usually devoted to talking. It is moments like these where you see similarities to the old silent comics like Chaplin and Keaton.

Playtime is all about the minutiae and these moments are probably exhibited best at the nightclub. So much happens and much of it goes unnoticed, but oftentimes when you pick up on something the payoff is great because you slowly begin to notice more and more. Tati does not have to announce it, but he puts it there to be seen. For instance, there is the fish that is never served but is constantly being seasoned. Then, the doorman who opens the door without any glass. Finally, there is the waiter who gets all the ripped, torn and otherwise ruined articles of clothing. Together all these moments create some immensely funny sequences.

Another thing about Tati’s film. There is really no conflict. He is addressing the changing times, but at its heart, Playtime is just that. Light-hearted recreation.

5/5 Stars

Review: Double Indemnity (1944)

Double_indemnity_screenshot_8It was a hot afternoon, and I can still remember the smell of honeysuckle all along that street. How could I have known murder can sometimes smell like honeysuckle?” – Walter Neff

I can’t say this enough. Double Indemnity is so deliciously enticing each and every time I see it. Maybe it’s the A-grade script from Billy Wilder and crime novelist Raymond Chandler with its noir cynicism and memorable phraseology. Maybe it’s the shadowy, low-key interiors or L.A. exteriors. The monotonous beating score of Miklos Rozsa, mourning impending doom. Maybe it’s the plain, laconic way of Walter Neff or his bloodhound buddy Keyes. Is it the innocent Lola who gives the film morality? Or the artificial wig and the silky smooth purring of Phyllis Dietrichson?

In fact, I named many, if not all, of the many facets of this film, because I want to attempt to acknowledge all of them before I forget. But the reality is I love Double Indemnity at its most basic level as a piece of prime American cinema. Yes, it is film-noir and yes, it came from a European director, but it is very much a product of 1940s sentiment as the war years waned.

The story is pulled right from some pulp fiction sleaze by James M. Cain and cemented itself as a noir classic in its own right with all the trappings that are called for.

It opens with the beginnings of Rozsa’s score reverberating in our ears and it very rarely lets up. A car blazes wildly down the street and winds up in front of an insurance agency. Out stumbles our protagonist Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) and for the rest of the film, he relates the recent happenings over the Dictaphone of his colleague Barton Keyes (Edward G. Robinson). It goes something like this:

During his first visit to the home of a Mr. Dietrichson, he instead has his first encounter with the man’s sensual wife, and his heart goes pitter-patter from then on. His motivation is no longer insurance. Now he just wants the chance to see her more. He gets his chance to advise her on a plan, and it all seems playful enough until she insinuates that she wants to knock off her ol’ hubby. At least that’s how Neff reads it. However, he cannot get her out of his head as he has fallen into her web. There’s no turning back.

They think of everything and Neff has everything figured out to a tee. As he suggests, it’s like having the perfect odds on the roulette wheel, you just need an accomplice to spin and Phyllis is just that person. From then it’s just straight down the line. They corroborate on all the details at local Jerry’s Market, Walter sets up his alibi, and he does the devilish deed as Phyllis stares with cool satisfaction at the road ahead.

They set it all up like an accident as the last touch, because as Neff knows all too well if it looks like Mr. Dietrichson was killed from riding a train the Double Indemnity clause of the insurance will mean double the payoff due to how unlikely the occurrence is.

 Double Indemnity (1944) - UpdatedHis only fear is the inquisitive nose of Keyes and the “little man” inside the claims investigator’s stomach, who warns him of the first sign of anything fishy. He gets close to the truth but not quite there. Neff is too close for him to see it. However, as things begin to heat up Phyllis and Neff must separate.

As Neff tries to console Lola Dietrichson over the death of her father, he quickly finds out what the naive girl has to say about her step-mother. It puts a little light on the subject, and Neff realizes what he’s been taken for. He wants to remedy things while he can, patching Lola up with her boyfriend, and going to confront Phyllis one last time.

It’s the perfect set-up. Darkened rooms with curtains drawn. Phyllis reclined in an armchair with evil intentions on her mind. In walks Walter and they have it out. Shots are fired, literally. Phyllis will never let up with her ploys until Walter gives her a little help for the final time. I’m sure the Hays Codes loved this one. I certainly did.

Back in the office Keyes finally overhears the end of Walter’s “confession” as his friend bleeds to death. In one last touching moment, Keyes returns the favor and lights the cigarette like Walter has been obliging to do the entire film.

Walter: “Know why you couldn’t figure this one, Keyes? I’ll tell ya. ‘Cause the guy you were looking for was too close. Right across the desk from ya.”
Keyes: “Closer than that, Walter.”
Walter: “I love you too”

Billy Wilder traded longtime partner Charles Brackett for Raymond Chandler, and despite a rocky partnership, they ended up with one of the greatest scripts, chock full of memorable bits of dialogue. You know you have an impressive cast when Edward G. Robinson is your third lead and each character is playing against type. It’s great casting, in a quintessential American drama solidified by great cinematography and storytelling.

It doesn’t get much better than this and it certainly does not need to. You know Double Indemnity is good when I’ve seen it multiple times and each time the bullets still keep me on the edge of my seat. Thank you, Billy Wilder, for teaching us murder sometimes smells like honeysuckle. That’s absolutely beautiful.

Phyllis: “No, I never loved you, Walter, not you or anybody else. I’m rotten to the heart. I used you just as you said. That’s all you ever meant to me. Until a minute ago, when I couldn’t fire that second shot. I never thought that could happen to me.”
Walter: “Sorry, baby, I’m not buying”
Phyllis: “I’m not asking you to buy. Just hold me close.
Walter: “Good-bye baby.”

5/5 Stars

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (2007)

ca161-divingbellbutterflympIt’s beyond me how a film about a man who is all but paralyzed, except for his left eye, could be interesting. The main plot point follows his struggle to write a memoir using a tedious system where he blinks his eye for an assistant to transcribe. Maybe this does not sound all that engaging, but it most definitely is. No question. It has to do with how the film narrative is developed.

Bauby’s struggle is experienced first hand by the audience as we are stuck inside his head for the first portion of the film. It is a disconcerting perspective as we begin the film as helpless and confused as he is. We are there for every painfully difficult piece of progress, every one-sided conversation that Bauby (Mathieu Amalric) is unable to respond to, and every moment when he is powerless to act out. It is absolutely eye-opening. No pun intended. It’s simply the truth.

His progression is absolutely extraordinary. Beginning as a supposed “vegetable” who wished to die, to a man with an imagination that he was able to share with the world. He still had the ability and the passion for sharing his thoughts, memories, and desires with the world. He was physically so powerless and yet mentally so empowered.

Fragments of his story are given to us in pieces, although we still continue to return to the limited perspective he himself experiences. It is not easy to be sure. He must have others bathe him. The television channel is out of his control. There are doctors, therapists, friends, and family coming to see them, and he has no ability to physically interact. He still has feelings for his mistress, but the mother of his children still cares deeply for him. Sundays are hell with no one around.

Despite all that seems to drag him down, Bauby still is able to flutter above it all like a butterfly. With the help of his assistant and a strong will, he completed his memoir. 10 days later he would die, but his mission was accomplished. Maybe it seems like a rather unfortunate ending, but even if the lack of closure is unsatisfying, how it ended is the truth. Bauby was undoubtedly content because, despite the seemingly surmountable obstacles, he never lost his humanity. Being Locked-in could never take his mind from him. Ultimately, he was a winner and so his story ends on a somber yet powerful note.

It has been a while since I have been so affected by a film. I hope I will see another one like it very, very soon.

4.5/5 Stars