Stage Door Canteen (1943)

Posted on May 14, 2016 by 4 Star Films

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Director Frank Borzage’s Stage Door Canteen is a gentle-handed piece of propaganda. It plays out rather like a scripted 1940s wartime reality. It’s less a film and more of a historical relic commemorating the eponymous Stage Door Canteen in New York City. Thus, any effort to give it some sort of rating almost seems beside the point, because it was meant to be a rallying cry of comfort, entertainment, and escape from the war right outside. It met the general public right where they were and inundated them with mega star power. This wasn’t the only nightclub or film to do this either. The Stage Door’s west coast counterpart was the Hollywood Canteen, and it received a film treatment of its own in 1944.

In truth, the real nightclub was still in full use every day so the next best alternative was the RKO Lot in Culver City. That’s where it all happens like a day in the life. We follow three soldiers: the perfect cross-section of white red-blooded American G.I.s. Each one gets to dance and talk their last days away with a pretty girl serving as a hostess at the canteen. Each one of them will never forget it.

The entertainment is full of partial cameos, pop-ups, and performances from a plethora of stars. For even the most well-acquainted modern viewer, it’s hard to recognize all the faces and names that show up. Katherine Cornell, Count Basie, and Yehudi Menuhin are a few such figures who come to mind.

stagedoorcan1 There are also strategic vignettes sprinkled throughout to boost morale and the camaraderie between allies. A few Brits can be heard taking part in the gaiety and making friends with our protagonists. A table of Hispanic soldiers takes in a floor show. One of our hostesses gets a moving letter from her older brother in the marines who is bent on returning to his family and proving that his training can outlast any “Jap” out there. There’s a last-minute marriage ceremony that we are privy to. Sam Jaffe introduces the audience to a few Russian allies, an Australian soldier has just returned from the front, and several Chinese air cadets get a rousing appreciation. Merle Oberon (the only actress close to being Asian in the film) gives them a stirring sendoff. Finally, Katharine Hepburn drops in for the premier cameo, to tie together all the loose ends and rally her fellow men and women to keep on keeping on for the sake of the country, so that the Allies might win the war.

From our modern day perspective, this might all come off like saccharine hogwash, but that’s not giving the material its due sensitivity. For that point in history, it was exactly what the American public was looking for. Today it’s a fascinating piece of remembrance. Then, it was still a story with a “to be continued” ending.

3.5/5 Stars

Ali: Fear Eats the Soul (1974)

Posted on May 12, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Werner Rainer Fassbinder is one of those artists known for his tumultuous personal and political life, and yet with all the dialogue swirling around his backstory and untimely death, there is no doubt that he sent a charge through the film community that is still being acknowledged today. The New German Cinema of the 1970s breathed new life into an industry and created a massive impact. Part of the fact is that Fassbinder’s work hearkens back to his forefathers while constructing a space within the medium that was all his own. That’s what the great filmmakers do. They take what has already been done, grab hold of some inspiration, and run with it into some new uncharted territory.

In the case of Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, he takes the work of 1950s melodrama master Douglas Sirk and transposes it to his contemporary Germany. His particular inspiration is All That Heaven Allows, which revolves around the shocking romance between a respectable woman and her younger suitor. That in itself makes for a juicy piece of drama, but Fassbinder expands on that by adding a racial component. Always fascinated by topics of race, Fassbinder looks at an elderly German lady (Brigitte Mire), who begins to form a bond with a much younger Moroccan laborer named Ali (El Hedi ben Salem).

What begins as a small gesture, soon enough actually develops into something more, because once they sit down to coffee, they realize they actually appreciate each other’s company. Although I don’t understand German, the subtitles make it clear that Ali’s German is rather rudimentary, and yet that matters little to Emmi. She just enjoys having someone to talk to.

Emmi works as a maid and her husband is deceased and her children are grown up. She’s lonely. Ali has a group of friends from his homeland, but he feels like he’s treated less than human in Germany. Emmi’s different than your average German, but then again, her first husband was a Pole during the Nazi regime, so she’s no stranger to going against the grain. To her, it’s not a big deal. It’s just gets blown up by family and the tenants around her. Her nosy neighbors are quick to gossip and they all have a heavy case of discrimination. In fact, the unlikely couple is surrounded by narrow-minds sitting atop old bodies. A prime example is the local grocer, who ignores Ali, before changing his tune since he wants Emmi’s business. But even Emmi’s children are not pleased. You can understand being surprised and a bit dismayed, but once a television set is kicked in, there’s automatically more to it. It’s not simply anger in it being such a rash decision, but the fact that Ali is a foreigner (and much younger). And yet all these separate issues are so closely intertwined it becomes an interesting situation. More often than not it’s the pervading bigotry that is the most noticeable.

Although the issue of age plays a role too, because at times Emmi looks out of place with Ali’s friends, and the same goes for Ali among her friends. It even leads him to a one night stand with the sultry bar owner (Barbara Valentin). But Emmi is a very forgiving soul and in her, Ali finds grace. I’m not sure if I concur with all the conclusions that Fassbinder draws, but I can respect his stands on race. In fact, when Ali alludes to the catastrophe in Munich during the Olympics in ’72, such a current events make this prejudice toward Arabs all too real. It was a real pertinent issue and it still is to this day.

As for Fassbinder, he certainly knows how to work around his sets. The composition of his scenes is simple, but vibrant in mise-en-scene. He certainly has a touch of Sirk, being a little less luxurious, but still as bright. The closest modern example I think of is Wes Anderson as far as utilizing interesting color schemes and symmetry to frame shots. Also, there are quite a few times where Fassbinder maintains a shot for seconds on end. In such moments, it feels like we’re looking at a painting in a Fassbinder gallery. And it is exactly that. Art with an emotional depth from one of the foremost German masters.

4.5/5 Stars

Shaun of the Dead (2004)

Posted on May 9, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Imagine that, it took me until after I finished the film to realize that its title was an obvious homage to Dawn of the Dead. And why not, because this comedy-zombie film celebrates the genre and George Romero’s lineage, while also carving out its own little niche. Really, this first installment from Simon Pegg and director Edgar Wright is brilliantly clever in its own right.

What I’ve come to recognize from their partnership is that they are all for the gags, the gore, and excitement, but they also have a handle on emotional impact. The worlds they build through script and character are certainly fun and engaging. I’m not even a big fan of zombie films, but this is probably one of my favorites and that’s because it’s more than just a superficial apocalyptic romp. Heaven forbid I actually care for these characters, but I do. Even Nick Frost, who is oftentimes a real idiot, but even he still finds ways to endear himself.

Simon Pegg goes through your typical hero’s journey, it’s just that it involves a lot of zombies. He begins as a washed-up assistant manager in a dead end job, with a romantic relationship that he’s really messing up. His girlfriend isn’t too happy with him as of late, and after 17 years he’s still at odds with his step-father (Bill Nighy). Meanwhile, his best friend Ed (Nick Frost) is making a nuisance of himself, playing video games and doing little else. It’s a real humdrum life that Shaun’s partaking of. You can see it in his demeanor, even his posture. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s a zombie or something. It’s true that Pegg and Wright have fun with a few gags like this, and even when the zombies take over the streets, Shaun hardly seems to notice. He’s so far gone in his own personal funk.

But in his case, a zombie apocalypse is just what he needs to kick-start his life again. He gains new meaning, asserts himself, and acknowledges how much he cares about those around him. He also gets to bash rows of zombies with a cricket bat and blow them up with a Winchester rifle for good measure, while saving his girlfriend Liz (Kate Ashfield), so that’s a major bonus.

Edgar Wright’s style is very dynamic and in your face, but within all the hubbub there are real moments of sincerity that elevate Shaun of the Dead not just above a lot of other zombie movies, but a lot of movies in general. Forget simply a zombie flick. This is a romance, a buddy film, and a redemption story all wrapped up into one. Simon Pegg proves himself as a leading man, who we would willingly follow during an apocalypse, especially given the other choices at hand.

4/5 Stars

My Night at Maud’s (1969)

Posted on May 7, 2016 by 4 Star Films

I love the forum that is created in international cinema where all things can be debated and discussed without fear of what the audience will say. Hollywood caters to the audience and that more often than not means that thrills are given greater weight than substance. Eric Rohmer worked at Cahiers du Cinema alongside French New Wave visionaries like Jean-Luc Godard and Francois Truffaut, but he joined the game a little later than his colleagues with a different style. Rohmer took his pseudonym from director Erich von Stroheim and British novelist Sax Rohmer. He was a highly educated man and that comes out in his films.

My Night at Maud’s comes from the perspective of a man, who we have a sneaking suspicion might be a lot like Rohmer. Jean-Louis (Jean-Louis Trintignant) is a reserved, highly religious, intelligent man. He attends mass on Sunday, bumps into an old school chum on the street, and willfully enters a discussion on all sorts of philosophical topics.

Whereas Godard interest himself in the lowly gangsters, the streetwalkers, or the lovers on the run, Rohmer’s character are in a completely different stratosphere. They are a higher slice of society, and it shows in what they spend there time philosophizing about. In fact, there’s a lot of discussion stemming from Pascal’s wager on whether or not it is beneficial to believe in God. Although he can be a bit of a clown, Vidal is also a philosophy professor and ready and willing to delve into such topics. He holds hypotheses on the meaning of life, and he’s considered where hope comes from. These are intelligent beings and deep thinkers, and by transference, they lead us to think. They drop by on Vidal’s friend Maud (Francoise Fabian), who is a divorcee, irreligious, and most certainly a free thinker. She’s also beautiful, and she likens there little late night convo to the salons of old as they gather around her bed to raise their conjectures.

I feel like I have known people like Jean-Louis, and I cannot help but like them. He’s a fairly resilient Christian, but not a perfect example mind you, and yet he feels far from a hypocrite. With his new dialogue partners, he speaks of his past love affairs and how they can exist with his religious convictions. Maud rather matter-of-factly labels him a “shame-faced Christian” and a “shame-faced Don Juan,” because he’s not fully committed or acknowledging of either. And yet she generally likes him a lot. He likes her company too and so they can continue talking in a genial manner. She pokes fun and ribs but never attacks. And she openly brings up numerous different ideas about Christianity. There are things that feel very human, but not very Christian to her. Maud asks if Christians are judged by their deeds? She assumes there is a bookkeeping aspect of Christianity where good deeds are weighted versus sin. Several times the rather obscure term of Jansenism is thrown around a bit in reference to the theology of Dutchman Cornelius Jansen. It surely is difficult to keep up we these folks at times, but it’s well worth it.

Maud has her own preconceived notions about religion, while Jean-Louis has some delusions about romance. He thinks he’ll meet a pretty blonde Catholic gal and fall in love. It sounds utterly preposterous and yet then he meets Francoise (Marie-Christine Barrault) after his night at Maud’s. She’s the perfect embodiment of everything he’s ever dreamed of in a romantic partner. They seem like a good pair, although she is still in school, they are intellectual equals with similar personal convictions.

Sure enough, 5 years down the line they are married with a young son. Jean-Louis has not seen Maud for many years now, but quite by chance they bump into each other on the beach. Both pick up where they left off as if no time has passed because it’s so easy for them to converse. Francoise is noticeably uncomfortable around Maud, but nothing more is said about it. Jean-Louis moves on and plays contentedly with his family on the beach. Maud heads back up the hill as cordial as ever. This is an ending that is made powerful in its subtleties above all else because Jean-Louis and the audience realize something about Francoise. Yet there is no need to voice those conclusions because all that matters to him is that he is happy. It toes a soft line between romance and drama, instead resorting to a beautiful exchange of ideas. Noticeably, in Rohmer’s film, there is no score so the dialogue is elevated to the level of music. It fills the void using deep, introspective and personal forms of verbal expression.

4/5 Stars

Captain America: Civil War (2016)

Posted on May 7, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Captain_America_Civil_War_poster In spite of being a jaded viewer at this point, the Russo Brothers (Arrested Development and Community) and the screenwriting duo of Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely (The Narnia Franchise) proved still capable when it comes to keeping the Marvel Franchise afloat and, nay, helping it to flourish like few franchises ever have. The pair of directing and writing duos who brought us Captain America: Winter Solider were able to add another link in the armor, and Marvel has remained stalwart. There are moments of misguided drama, times when the fight sequences become monotonous rather than momentous, but Marvel always does well to keep their funny bone intact.

As with any superhero movie Civil War calls for a suspension of disbelief, but it also becomes a balancing act, because for any movie to truly resonate with a mass audience its characters must feel human in some way shape or form. Where their powers and superhuman abilities must be on display for all those awaiting a popcorn thriller, but still restrained enough to keep them relatable.

In this case, Captain America (Chris Evans) is swayed by the love of a friend he’s known for over 70 years. Bucky Barnes is once more in the middle of a manhunt, and yet Cap has faith in his old friend. But it’s exactly that kind of loyalty that lands him on the wrong side of the law. Meanwhile, our other force of nature Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) rehashes the tragic death of his parents and tough times with Pepper Potts leave him conflicted. He’s ready to concede to the United Nation’s demands to put the Avengers in check and that’s where he breaks with his former ally. When the two undisputed leaders of the Avengers become polarized that forms the dividing line between factions and the whole film becomes fascinating as the sides are slowly drawn up. As an audience, we are forced to make a choice. It’s either the true blue Steve Rogers or the wonderfully snarky Tony Stark or perhaps we watch as an impartial observer. But, nevertheless, a mental decision must be made.

And it’s not only a balancing act of super versus human qualities, but the sheer size and scope of the cast could easily be a hindrance. Equality of screen time or at least moments in the spotlight for everyone are key, and the film generally does that capably enough. Marvel revels in the callbacks and Civil War is no different. In this installment alone we have the pleasure of seeing numerous returning players sans Hulk. In fact, the most entertaining fight sequence involves everyone duking it out, and the fact that it feels almost like play fighting rather than full-fledged combat is of little consequence.

But the new additions are also noteworthy including the likes of Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman) and yet another Spiderman. Credit due to Tom Holland for in some ways making Peter Parker into an invariably entertaining persona, who feels different than his predecessors. There are a few others in smaller roles of note including the likes of William Hurt, Martin Freeman, and even Jim Rash.

By this point, we have long grown tired of villains rising up from outer space harnessing some unfathomable amount of power. The antagonists that are truly compelling are those who are closer to home, more realistic, and sometimes even within our own ranks. Built into this film’s title is that type of conflict, between former friends, between people who used to be close or would be on the same side given any other circumstances. But Civil War ups the ante not by getting bigger and grander necessarily. It’s the fact that it gets more personal that makes it work surprisingly well.

Daniel Bruhl is a delightful actor, and he does well to play what some might call a villain and others might simply label a pained, vengeful man. That’s oftentimes far more interesting.

It’s overstuffed with players, many who are admittedly wonderful acting talents. Its editing and cinematography is at times overly frenetic and mind-numbing. While Civil War is the expected superhero extravaganza, there are dour, more mature interludes that are difficult not to appreciate. If Marvel has not completely kept me enraptured, due to so many subsequent films, they still have me coming back and if I’m any indication, there will be many far more ardent fans than me who will truly enjoy what this film has to offer.

4/5 Stars

The Exterminating Angel (1962)

Posted on May 6, 2016 by 4 Star Films

In a sense, I’m scared to be confronted with Bunuel’s films more often than not, because even to this day they are surprisingly subversive. But with The Exterminating Angel, there is a different sort of apprehension to be faced altogether. It is a fascinating film because it shows the descent of humanistic man into the depths of his primordial nature. However, it builds off the cruelest and most interesting practical joke ever conceived. It’s played on a group of people within the confines of the frame and the audience watching in equal measures.

Of all places, it starts at a dinner party where good etiquette, manners, the upper class, and culture all collide. Luis Bunuel seems to have a preoccupation in placing his subjects around a table because really there is nothing more human than sharing a meal together. Although, he finds ways to make it interesting and in this case wickedly absurd. The table becomes an arena for gossip, loaded barbs, harbored feelings, and ruffled feathers.

It’s quick to enter an almost surreal state as all the guests are unable to leave the confines of the room. We take things for granted so easily, but in their world leaving the room is not a given, even if it seems so straightforward to us. Some force is keeping them where they are, although we never see it or hear any mention of it. Our only inference is that there is some outside force holding them there. They are literally haunted by specters with a shroud hanging over them — an Angel of Death if you will.

This prolonged period of isolation lends itself to the degradation of all pretenses. The animalistic tendencies replace all shreds of decency. All the dirty little secrets that lurk under the surface then begin to rear their ugly heads. Honestly, it’s hard to keep them at bay in such close proximity, for prolonged periods of time, because people see the real you. It becomes hard to hold your tongue, to keep those biting words from slipping out, especially when fatigue and hunger sets in. As many of the men and women begin to falter, the good doctor represents all things rational and seemingly honorable. But when he is cast aside it reflects an end of human dignity. These individuals who were once so high, have fallen such great heights. Lambs get taken to slaughter and pipes are busted just for even the smallest taste of water.

It strikes me that this film is literally a picture of hell. No, it’s not the fire and brimstone picture we are accustomed to, but instead, it is a hell created by the individuals themselves, feeding off their own evil and pride, and accentuated by their prolonged purposelessness. Just think, it takes a woman named Leticia (Silvia Pinal), to break all her companions out of this cycle they have become stuck in. She realizes the utterly pointless loop they are caught in and breaks them out of it with a few powerful pieces of induction. Also, could there be some symbolism in her nickname “Valkyrie” (The chooser of the living and the slain)? I think so.

They leave the room just as easily as they entered it. It happens so unremarkably in fact that some might feel duped, and I would not blame them. Why did we watch this group of socialites remain in a room for an hour and a half if they could have gotten out this easily? But if you ask this question you miss out on the whole mind-bending aspect of Bunuel’s main conceit. We cannot fully understand; we can only marvel at the fact that something that we take for granted like leaving a room, doesn’t work so simply. Do I understand it, certainly not, but it makes for an amazingly powerful and frightening study of human nature. This is also a film that does not let off. In fact, although we finish one cycle, it looks like another one is about to begin with a few clergy trapped for another inexplicable reason in their cathedral with many parishioners. Outside a riot forms as another herd of lambs makes its way to the chapel. It’s as depressing as it is funny in some unnerving sort of way. Not only has Bunuel played a joke on his characters, but his audience as well. This time I didn’t mind all that much.

4.5/5 Stars

Sabrina (1954) – A Lovely Fairy Tale

Posted on May 4, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Sabrina, Sabrina where have you been all my life? ~ William Holden as David Larabee

I never understood that incessantly observable trope that permeates all forms of media where the blonde is far superior to the brunette. Aside from being highly superficial, it’s simply not the case. If anything, Audrey Hepburn is the blatant exception to that rule. She turns any such presumption on its head because simply put, she is absolutely stunning. There’s a reason why she is one of the most photographed and iconic figures of all time. Her style is different than a Marilyn Monroe, a Sophia Loren or an Elizabeth Taylor because it exudes a certain demure quality. She’s glamorous in spite of a certain unassuming humility. And she’s what makes Sabrina work because she embodies Sabrina Fairchild.

The film begins with a bit of narration that feels like it’s setting up a modern fairy tale, and it really is. Sabrina recounts the life of a young girl who lives above the garages where her father is a chauffeur. He faithfully serves the well-to-do Larabee family, and he’s content in his life. But his daughter is hardly so lucky. From an early age, she has carried a girlish crush on the younger Larabee brother David (William Holden), a womanizing, ogling playboy who seems like the unattainable dream for young Sabrina. He sees her as a child, and she worships the ground he treads on. Nor can she stand any of his female companions. Ironically, none of his conquests are good enough for him, in her estimation. But unrequited love, even young love, is a bitter pill to swallow and Sabrina hardly takes it well. The ode to Maurice Chevalier’s “Isn’t It Romantic” is the ultimate irony at this point in our storyline.

Then comes the fateful day that her father sends her off to learn the skills to become a world-class French chef like her late mother. Sabrina is unhappy in her work, cracking eggs, making souffles, and so on. But over time, David is less of a weight on her heart. She still thinks of him, but she also begins to grow into her life and truly flourish.

She left a girl and she comes back as Audrey Hepburn, immaculately radiant in a wardrobe crafted by her lifelong designer Hubert de Givenchy. David and the audience cannot help but marvel at this vision standing at the train station with her prized pooch, who by no small coincidence is also named David.

When all the pieces fall into place, the love-struck man is bowled away to find out that this is young Sabrina, the girl he never gave a second thought to. He’s ready to wine and dine her, to present her with the fantasy romance that she has always wanted and only he can offer. The dreams she always wished for in her youth are coming true before her very eyes.

But it’s David’s stuffy brother Linus (Humphrey Bogart) who steps in at this point, stage right. He’s the respectable and pragmatic one. He runs the family company and oversees their business. His latest project is a merger which will prove mutually beneficial but to help proceedings along he’s looking to marry off David to the daughter of his prospective business partner.

Sabrina stands in the way of his plans and as a proper businessman, he deals accordingly. David is holed up with injuries sustained sitting on champagne glasses, so Linus swoops in. He doesn’t seem like the wining and dining type, but he does it all in the name of sending Sabrina off to Paris again. He wants to get rid of her to salvage his merger, but he too falls under her spell. That sweetly serene personality matched with those pair of doe eyes melt any man’s heart. Still, duty calls and he admits to Ms. Fairchild just how much of a cad he has been. But now he’s a cad who truly has feelings for her. There’s no denying it. David sees it. The audience sees it. Now only Linus must acknowledge it himself. However, now we have a love triangle with time running out, and that’s when drastic action is necessary. After all, you cannot let a girl like Sabrina Fairchild, aka Audrey Hepburn, slip through your fingers.

In truth, Sabrina is easily overshadowed by Hepburn’s shining entrance in Roman Holiday and not as well remembered as her iconic personas in Breakfast at Tiffany’s or say My Fair Lady, but it is hardly a lesser film. It brings together some of the best talents you could hope for from one of the most preeminent of Hollywood directors.

Certainly, you can make a very strong case that the casting of the male leads was questionable. Bill Holden fits the playboy role well enough, but Bogart was perhaps not quite stuffy enough and far too old to be playing Hepburn’s love interest. In fact, the part was initially to go to Cary Grant. However, we got Bogey, and he’s worth a watch whatever the film and so it is with Sabrina, allowing him to reveal a little bit of his softer side. Furthermore, Billy Wilder will always and forever be the master of weaving stories together. His skill as a scriptwriter extends perfectly into his self-assured direction that gives us a thoroughly delightful comedy. Romance wins out over any dose of cynicism, and it all fits together nicely–a lovely fairy tale.

4/5 Stars

Journey to Italy (1954)

Posted on May 3, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Journey to Italy is the splintering of a relationship where the slivers of bitterness begin to wedge themselves under the skin. It’s like slow, painful, nagging torture. Roberto Rossellini’s noted romance film feels like the antithesis of Roman Holiday. It avoids the other film’s bustling streets for more secluded getaways. It leaves behind fairytale romance and fun, for the bitter onset of marriage and middle-age. It seems hardly exciting, mostly driving and sitting, drinking and eating. Rather droll to say the least. And yet this in itself is juxtaposed with lively impassioned tunes and historic pieces of architecture and sculpture snuggled up against the Italian countryside. Because it is a goldmine of culture whether you look at Pompey or the remnants of the Greeks and Romans. There is a glorious history here and yet it makes for a rather meandering backdrop for our two stars Ingrid Bergman and George Sanders. Again, Bergman especially was a big name (and at the time Rosselini’s lover) and though usually a supporting player Sanders was usually held in high regard. They feel like the exact inverses of Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn, in a way that’s rather intriguing.

Yet again, as an audience, we do feel like tourists taking in the sights, but this time we’re riding along with a couple who don’t know what to do when they’re alone together. They don’t know what one is to say or how one is to act, because, in all honesty, they haven’t tried too hard. We don’t get much of their backstory, but they are certainly well-off because he takes his work seriously and it shows. But he hasn’t taken his marriage all that seriously and that shows too. His wife is more like his partner in this business endeavor they have going. She keeps up appearances, and he can offer her a lot in return, but hardly love.

It struck me that is a film about a faltering relationship and here is a couple that seems to be apart as much as they are together.They think that the best thing they can do is stay away from each other because no damage can be done that way. There’s jealousy, pettiness, biting sarcasm, all ready and waiting to be unleashed. Alex fosters a liking for a young Italian girl, and although Katherine doesn’t know all the details, she suspects as much from him. To combat Sander’s snide tone that can cut to the quick, Bergman counters with a thick layer of sulking.

Thus, I’m not sure about the denouement of this film. Will they stay together or get the divorce that they both seem to have come to terms with? It seems like they might possibly make things work, or is that just the work of the romantic Italian countryside around them? Because no passionate embrace can alleviate and completely overshadow their myriad of problems. They are unable to communicate on a meaningful level, and they treat each other rather poorly more often than not.

In fact, this film is an interesting study, but there is a lack of investment in these characters. After all, it’s only a quick snapshot that gives us a feel for a relationship. I’m probably partial to the similar feeling Before Midnight (2013) because we are already given two films beforehand to truly grow invested in the characters and their story. But there’s no doubt that Rosselini’s film with Bergman and Sanders is well worth the journey.

4/5 Stars

The Silence (1963)

Posted on April 29, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Mention of God and spirituality, faith and healing, feel completely unrelated to a film that’s seemingly devoid of all of those things. And yet if we place this Ingmar Bergman film alongside his two previous efforts Through a Glass Darkly and Winter Light, The Silence has just as much to say about such topics. The irony of this film is that it says a lot by saying the inverse–nothing. As the title implies, the two sisters who are the focal point of this film speak nothing of God or any kind of faith. God too is silent. No miraculous sign takes place to salvage this storyline. It is what it is, and yet Bergman again works so powerfully once more– even if it’s not quite his intention.

Ester (Ingrid Thulin) is the practical, rational sister, who is also very sick. In fact, it is her health that interrupts their vacation so that they wind up in a hotel in a foreign land. Anna (Gunnel Lindblom) is her sister, the sensuous one who is not afraid to flaunt her body. There’s also a boy, the 10-year-old Johan, who is along for this adventure as well. At first, I assumed that Ester was his mother, but it turns out he’s Anna’s son. It makes for another interesting dynamic because although she can be very touchy-feely with her boy to the point it almost feels uncomfortable, she does not show him a lot of affection. More often she’s aloof or tells him to go off and play somewhere alone.

Things are even worse with Ester because for some reason we don’t really know, they have a strained relationship. You get the sense that they both disapprove of each other for different reasons. Ester’s too restrained. Anna’s too provocative. Their vices come in different forms as well. As Johan entertains himself throughout the hotel, shooting his pop gun, meeting some little people and a friendly old porter, his mother and aunt try and medicate themselves.

Ester combats her illness and bedridden state with cigarettes and alcohol, which probably only help in numbing her senses and blackening her lungs. Anna puts on her most tantalizing outfit and goes out on the town, ready for some quick and easy sex to gratify herself. Again, both sisters dwell on completely different ends of the spectrum, but they really seem to end up in the same place. There is no space or need for a God or spirituality in their lives because they’ve filled the void with other things.

Meanwhile, Johan seems like a normal little boy, who is looking for affection and yet he doesn’t seem to get it, at least not typically. His mother and aunt might truly desire to connect with him at least sometimes, but more often than not it feels like he’s just left to fall through the cracks. He’s easily forgotten.

The sisters part ways after a confrontation where Ester comes in on Anna with her lover. They lay it all out with brutal honesty and the next morning Anna takes Johan with her on the train. Ester cannot bear to be left this way, and as spasms begin to overtake her, she acknowledges a great many of her fears. She’s not ready for death. Anna rides off with little interest in her sister and no doubt, little interest in thoughts of death.

When The Silence came out, it was, no doubt, risque for its frank depiction of sexuality and yet the way Bergman looks at such a topic, suggests that it is not a superficial perspective. What any type of behavior does, really, is to provide a fuller, broader picture of the human who acts it out. Anna and Ester undoubtedly have their insecurities, fears, and desires. We see them acting out on those desires often, and we see their insecurities come out when they fight with each other. It’s yet another fascinating dissection of life, although it looks vastly different than its two predecessors. Bergman’s Persona a few years down the line also seemingly builds on the study of this film, even utilizing a similar dynamic. That’s not to say that The Silence is not worth a look in its own right. It takes on the subject of “faith,” ironically enough, by showing a complete absence of it.

4/5 Stars

Winter Light (1963)

Posted on April 28, 2016 by 4 Star Films

In the second leg of Ingmar Bergman’s Faith Trilogy, he gets right to the core of all matters of faith. He takes an up close and personal look at a man of the cloth named Tomas (Gunnar Bjorstrand), who shepherds a small congregation in a rural Swedish town. Such is the life of a clergyman, as with any life, where there are rough patches and emotional highs that rejuvenate you, but mostly rough patches. In fact, he is going through such a spell when the film begins. We survey his humble little chapel, and there are only a few scattered members of the community present. Half seem disinterested and Tomas himself speaks words of spiritual truth and yet it seems like he is only going through the motions. Does he actually believe these benedictions and words that he is proclaiming? I’m not sure he even knows for sure.

He’s been withstanding a winter period of his life personified by the icy weather engulfing his humble city on a hill. It reflects his own heart and mind which are going through a season of extraordinary indifference. On top of that, he’s fighting a bad case of the flu, and he is discontent in God’s silence. Where is God? Why is He not more present in his life? Why does he not more clearly reveal himself? Is there any power left in prayer? They are honest questions from a man struggling with faith, and it’s the epitome of an existential crisis. Bergman seems to be churning up all the thoughts creeping up in his own mind, and it’s very human — extremely honest.

Tomas has little in the realm of advice or comfort to offer his parishioners. For instance, when the depressed fishermen Jonas (Max Von Sydow) comes to the pastor after contemplating suicide, given the state of the world in the nuclear age, Tomas has little to say, because in order to encourage others you have to be encouraged. There’s nothing that can be done if the well you’re running on goes dry. You cannot sustain yourself that way. About all he is able to offer are a few downward glances because there’s no conviction left in him.

On a personal note, Tomas lost his beloved wife and now he deflects the affections of local teacher Marta, who herself does not believe in God, but still, she loves Tomas dearly. In a deeply heartfelt letter, she confesses her true feelings for him, and he responds with very little acknowledgment. He cannot bear the townsfolk talking about them, and he still misses his wife dearly. It doesn’t help when he gets tragic news about Jonas.

Winter Light never reaches a clear conclusion, because life is hardly ever like that. In fact, there is an underlying irony that becomes apparent in this story. After Tomas lashes out against Marta and tells her to let him be, it becomes all too clear that Marta, though she does not believe in God, is in a sense, living a better life. They are both lost in the throes of winter still, but she at least has the capacity for love and vulnerability. Tomas’s apathy seems to be a far greater plight since he feels trapped in a labyrinth of idiotic trivialities, as he puts it.

The sexton Algot brings up an interesting point about the suffering of Christ. His physical suffering must have been immense, but how much greater must he have suffered when everyone deserted him. The disciples didn’t understand a thing he said, Peter denied him, everyone else deserted him, and he was even forsaken by God. It suggests the importance of our interactions with one another. In the days of our lives, it becomes so easy to continue constantly in the endless cycle of life. Never getting outside of it and relating to our fellow man. Falling into apathy and indifference, which is especially easy when tough times hit.

Bergman does it again, delivering a film full of philosophical depth and questions that force the viewer to ruminate over their own condition, whatever their background or beliefs might be. Sven Nykvist’s photography is beautifully austere once more, and it adds a certain visual depth to the director’s trilogy. It’s stark, pure, and piercing with gorgeous shades of black and white.

4.5/5 Stars