El Dorado (1966)

Posted on October 27, 2014 by 4 Star Films

El Dorado is less of a remaking of Howard Hawk’s previous western production Rio Bravo and more of a reworking of it. This time the town drunk is sheriff J.P. Harrah (Robert Mitchum), who got his heart broke by a girl. The kid is Alan Bourdillion Traherne (James Caan) also known as Mississippi. He can be found with a shot up old hat on his head and a sawed off blunderbuss for a gun. It’s not his weapon of choice anyway. Then, there’s old reliable Bull Harris (Arthur Hunnicut), who holds down the fort and looks after the sheriff when he’s laid up. As the main love interest, there’s Maudie (Charlene Holt), a resident of El Dorado since her childhood days.

As always the man who calls the shots is Cole Thorton (John Wayne), an old war buddy of J.P.s. He has one of the fastest draws around but also has a surprisingly soft spot for doing good. He befriends the younger Mississippi and comes to the aid of J.P when he could have joined the other side.

Thorton rejects the offer of local villain Bart Jason (Ed Asner), but a threatened local ranch family wishes to take no chances. When it is all said and done Thorton receives a bullet in the back that causes him problems afterward.

Now lethal hired gun Nelson McLeod (Christopher George) has taken up Jason’s offer, and they ride into the town. One of their first meetings takes place in the old church and it ends in the arrest of Jason for his part in the whole affair. Another shootout takes place that night and now the formerly drunk sheriff also gets nicked in the leg.

Maudie is fearful of the thugs milling around her place and when Thorton and Mississippi go over to investigate they get ambushed because Cole has physical ailments of his own. They get Cole back but not without giving up their own prisoner. With one of the McDonald’s kidnapped a quick plan is devised and the final showdown begins. Our ragtag crew gets the job done, but J.P. and Cole make quite the pair. They look more like crippled old men than hardened gunfighters, both hobbling down the street with a crutch.

I must admit I am partial to Hawk’s original Rio Bravo and I have yet to see Rio Lobo, but I did really enjoy these characters. Wayne and Mitchum seem to play against type because at times they are quite comical. Mitchum is not a tough P.I. or ruthless villain, but a town drunk! Wayne can hardly shoot a gun at times and he even gets taken. That’s unheard of. It’s as if they softened with old age, but I don’t mind, because the interactions between those two, Mississippi, Bull, and Maudie are a lot of fun. Even the antagonist McCleod is a man with a sense of honor and good fun. Some great moments include Mississippi’s miracle concoction and numerous bars of soap being brought to the dirty sheriff when he finally takes a bath! The initial introduction of the two leads is priceless too. They both were smitten with the same girl.

Howard Hawks really knew how to make westerns not simply about guns and shootouts, but colorful characters who oftentimes seem more content kicking it back in the jail than in smelling out trouble. He proved it again with El Dorado.

4/5 Stars

A gallant knight,

In sunshine and in shadow,

Had journeyed long

Singing a song,

In search of El Dorado

Le Silence de la mer (1949)

Posted on October 25, 2014 by 4 Star Films

Out of the many titans of French film, I found a personal favorite in Jean-Pierre Melville. Aside from changing his name in honor of the American author who wrote about the great white whale, Melville was also a member of the French Resistance during WWII. Thus, he seems to be the perfect man to helm a film based on a novel that was secretly published during the Nazi occupation. You would think that it would be brimming with political agenda and underhanded controversy.

Instead, Melville gifts us a nuanced and sympathetic film about a German Lieutenant who is quartered in the home of a French gentleman and his young niece. In many ways, much of the story plays out as an extended monologue rattled off by Werner von Ebrennac, and it becomes the perfect narrative device for an intimate character study. He is met by silence and passive aggression from his hosts, who hate his guts and the situation they have been placed in. He represents everything they despise, and his mere presence also reminds them of the shameful fact that France has fallen.

And yet he is far from the stereotype, and Melville never allows this German Lieutenant to succumb to our preconceptions. This has to be one of the most sympathetic depictions of a German soldier ever seen captured on film. It turns out that Ebrennac is a perfect gentleman, cultured in literature (Moliere, Rascine, Cervantes, Dante, Shakespeare, and Goethe), and a seasoned musician. His head is full of romantic ideals about the reviving of France as it is taken under the wing of its new conqueror.

His words are always met with a quiet contempt as uncle and niece continually sit reading and knitting. It never seems to change or stop. There is never a change in temperate or a word spoken. Just the words of Ebrennac every evening after he gets back and the voice-over of the older gentlemen constantly illuminates us about the unspoken workings of his mind.

Soon, however, the Lieutenant learns the reality of the war from Treblinka to the Nazi ideology pervading the psyche of all the German military. Friends have been brainwashed, and his view of the German war is completely dashed. There is nothing left to do but apply for a transfer and resign himself to the hell that has been created. Uncle and niece reluctantly bid farewell to a man who was the exception.

This was Jean-Pierre Melville’s first feature, but I really enjoyed it as simple as it is. He seems to understand the ambiguities of war. It often is difficult to decipher who is in the right or the wrong. Germany was the odious villain and France the obvious victim. However, in this domestic drama the tables are seemingly switched in stark contrast.

4/5 Stars

Review: Star Wars (1977)

Posted on October 24, 2014 by 4 Star Films

Star Wars has such a giant mythology and full-blown culture surrounding it that it becomes nearly impossible to separate the entire galaxy from the film franchise. It is so much more than just a movie with a plot and some characters going on an adventure. Sure, George Lucas let his boyhood imagination run wild taking pages out of numerous playbooks from John Ford’s westerns, Kurosawa’s samurai, and the serialized sci-fi adventures of Buck Rogers.

However, when I look at this classic that I grew up with for so many years now, it is nearly impossible to shed the role of a pure fan and take on the role of a film critic. One prime example would be Sir Alec Guinness. All my knowledge of film history tells me he is one of the greatest English actors of all time and for good reason. However, there is also this innate conflict that says he’s Obi Wan Kenobi since that’s what I knew him for originally. That’s what I identify him with, and I probably always will. Because, as I said before, Star Wars: A New Hope (As it was later titled) means so much to so many people like me on a personal level.

But let me hold off on that for a moment and focus on Star Wars the film. First and foremost, you would be hard-pressed to find a more colorful array of characters. C3PO and R2D2 are the films jesters and the story is told from point of view, to begin with. You have the hapless farmboy, the wise old man, a spunky princess, a dashing tough guy, and his ever faithful fuzzy sidekick. Not to mention the greatest, most imposing villain every developed for the silver screen. It took some developing with three different actors, a mask, a cape, and SCUBA sounds all joined to create his persona.

That aside, the world Lucas created is so astounding and inventive that it has become second nature to true Star War fans. Jawas on Tatooine, the Cantina in Mos Eisley, and Storm Troopers on the Death Star are simply a no brainer. They are part of our lexicon just as many of these quotes easily roll off our tongue. “May the force be with you,” “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” “Help me Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.” You get the idea.

Then, it goes without saying that John Williams propelled this film from being good to great. Because without his iconic scoring, Star Wars is just not the same. It lacks the same energy and epic vibrancy that pulses through every scene. One prime example is the final scene in the Throne Room on Yavin IV. That could have been the longest most awkward award ceremony in history. When you think about it, no one is talking, they just stare at each other as the medals get bestowed. But with Williams score, it develops a grand crescendo that caps the film on the highest notes as the credits role.

I am also convinced that Ben Burtt is a genius because he breathed still more life into the Star Wars world through his sound design. He gave us blaster noises, RD-D2’s “voice,” Chewie’s distinctive growls, and of course the hum of lightsabers and Darth Vader’s iconic breathing. A personal favorite of mine is the ever present Wilhelm Scream, but I digress.

Thus, what we witnessed the first time we saw Star Wars (followed by countless more times) was not just a film, but a revolution, and I’m not just talking about the rebel alliance blowing up the Death Star.

As I suggested before, Star Wars is so affecting because it is not simply a movie we watch. In many respects, it brings up flashbulb memories in our lives. I remember birthday parties, childhood afternoons playing Legos, or being a Jedi with my very own lightsaber. Star Wars infected my entire adolescence and so when I watch this film it causes all the many great memories to flood back.

It is a joy to watch it again because I almost feel like a kid once more, experiencing the same excitement all over again as if it’s the first time around. My taste in films may continue to mature and evolve, but I dearly hope I never lose my affinity for Star Wars. In many, it would be like losing some of my memories and even a little bit of my humanity.

Not to worry, though, because based on this most recent viewing I will not be dismissing Star Wars any time soon. As some wise man once said, “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” I forgot how much I missed “a long time ago in a galaxy far far away.” It was great seeing an old friend.

5/5 Stars

Shadowlands (1993)

Posted on October 22, 2014 by 4 Star Films

Starring Anthony Hopkins and Debra Winger with direction by Richard Attenborough, this film chronicles the romance of famed Christian professor and author, C.S. “Jack” Lewis with the American poet Joy Gresham. Jack is by now a respected professor at Oxford and a widely acclaimed lecturer who often speaks on the issue of human suffering. In his personal life, he is rather reserved. He lives with his older brother Warnie and spends times with his colleagues discussing topics of all sorts at the local pub in the evenings.

It is not until he receives a letter from an American admirer named Joy Gresham that his life seemingly begins to change. He first accepts to meet her only to be gracious, but soon their relationship develops into a close bond. Jack meets Joy’s son Douglas who is enthralled by Narnia. He even offers them a place to stay during the Christmas season, since they have nowhere else to go. Lewis and Gresham are very different people, to say the least. He is a quiet intellectual with the sensibilities of an Englishman, while she is a plain -speaking American who does not mince words. However, these differences bring them closer together because they help each other to view the world in a radically new light. Jack learns how Gresham’s marriage is going badly and he settles to marry her in a practical union so she and Douglas can stay in England. They do not speak of it much and it hardly seems real. Joy calls him on it realizing for herself that he allows no one to challenge him. There is no vulnerability to him whatsoever.

However, then Joy is diagnosed with bone cancer and slowly but surely she begins to deteriorate. For the second time in his lif,e Lewis understands the anguish that comes when a loved one is suffering. Because, the fact is, he most definitely loves Joy, and it simply took a tragedy to make him realize it. As with any inexplicable suffering, Lewis is tested in his faith, and the reality human suffering has new meaning to him. It is no longer just lecture material, becoming a far more personal process.

Although this film is not so much focused on C.S. Lewis as a Christian theologian or apologist, I think Anthony Hopkins does a wonderful job of portraying him as a kindly and gentle man of faith. He struggles with doubts and fears like every human, but he found something wonderful in his love for Joy which ultimately changed him.

Debra Winger must also be commended because she played well off of Hopkins and even though I have no picture of the real Gresham, Winger seemed to embody her. In some ways, I found her most beautiful when she was bedridden, absent of all makeup and seemingly so pure. It positively tears your heart out watching her son say a tearful goodnight or to look on as Jack stays up with her. This is a better picture of real, unadulterated love than most films can hope to manage because it very rarely becomes a sappy melodrama instead resorting to more deliberate means. As Jack says we live in the “Shadowlands,” but amidst the pain and suffering, love seems to shine through even brighter.

This was such an enlightening film for me because I always envision C.S. Lewis as a scholar and rational thinker, which he was. But he also had a vulnerable human side and this film, as well as A Grief Observed (written after Joy’s death), prove that point. It’s hard not to feel for him and that’s part of the beauty of this story.

4.5/5 Stars

The Conversation (1974)

Posted on October 17, 2014 by 4 Star Films

Directed by Francis Ford Coppola and starring Gene Hackman, this film begins with a commonplace conversation between a young man and woman in the relatively busy Union Square in San Francisco. As they make their way around their words seem of little importance and yet unbeknownst to them they are being followed and recorded.

The mastermind behind it all is the surveillance expert Harry Caul who uses his know-how and a small team to track their words from a van. As a professional and a highly respected member of his field, Caul is guarded and he tries not to concern himself with the reasons behind his surveillance. However, as he works his magic in his private lab space, Caul finally does become affected when he picks up on bits and pieces of the conversation. It deeply troubles him and he continually plays the tapes back.

Because of his concern, Caul holds out on giving the tapes to the assistant of the Director, the man who commissioned the job. The aide pressures him more and more and then finally Caul finds the tapes are stolen. Fearing that the couple is in grave danger, Caul takes the room right next to theirs, but unfortunately despite his best efforts, his fears seem to be confirmed. After searching the empty room Caul goes to confront the Director only to find that things are not as they seem and Caul is the only one who realizes it. The disillusioned man is then threatened over the phone and informed that now the shoe is on the other foot and he is under constant surveillance. Little did he know the implications of the conversation…

Gene Hackman may have played more memorable characters like Popeye Doyle, Lex Luthor, or even Norman Dale in the Hoosiers, however, I am not sure if he played a more complex character than Harry Caul. He is a detached man who has no telephone, tells white lies about his birthday, has multiple locks on his door, keeps his equipment caged and he has no significant relationships. The other side of him loves the saxophone and is a devout Catholic. He is no hero and not what we would normally call a villain. He is Harry Caul a lonely, confused human who has tendencies for good but still constantly struggles to reconcile that with his career. Above all, The Conversation is a thought-provoking psychological thriller which gives the audience lots to mull over.

4.5/5 Stars

Persona (1966)

Posted on October 16, 2014 by 4 Star Films

“Persona: The image or personality that a person presents to other people” ~ Merriam-Webster Dictionary

Ingmar Bergman’s Persona got me thinking. About what I’m not quite sure, but it did leave me confused and utterly perplexed which I suppose is a good thing. Since I am a fan of comparisons, I will go out on a limb and say I felt like I was watching the cross between L’Avventura and Repulsion. Persona is certainly befuddling psychologically and it has the crispest, most pristine black and white cinematography I have seen in a long time, courtesy of Sven Nykvist.

The opening sequences in the hospital are noticeably minimalist with an accentuated sterile environment. The close-ups feel reminiscent of The Passion of Joan of Arc and the highly dramatic and unnerving score sends twinges down our spine. To top it off, the takes can be excruciatingly long, focusing on an inert face or a solemn figure crouching in a doorway. Silence is just as prevalent as dialogue.

At its core, Bergman’s film is an examination of individual characters in space. Alma (Bibbi Andersson) is the young sprightly nurse who is called in to take care of catatonic actress Elisabet Vogler (Liv Ullmann). Their interactions quickly move from the plain hospital room to the seaside cottage loaned out to Mrs. Vogler for her recovery.

What begins as attendant watching over patient soon evolves into a vulnerable woman finding a silent foil to confide in. The Persona is changing.

All of a sudden roles are reversed and when Alma discovers a letter Elisabet sent away to the administrator, things are never the same. She feels betrayed learning that the actress has been analyzing her in silence. All that’s left is bitterness and anger towards her mute companion. No words come out of her mouth. Only blank stairs and more silence. She remains strangely calm in juxtaposition with the agitated Alma who becomes more and more tormented. But it is at this point we have lost much of our grip on reality. The lines, as well as the images, are often blurred and warped.

Persona takes on some brazenly edgy topics with frankness that is often abrasive. A repeated monologue by Alma follows the discovery of a recovered photo of Elisabet’s little boy. In the sequence, Alma speaks the words on Vogler’s mind and we are forced to labor painfully over her words yet another time. In many ways, Alma becomes the stand in or understudy for the actress and the role is far from elegant.

By the time the film came to its conclusion I hardly knew what to think. It elicited powerful feelings and reactions of aching and apprehension. If nothing else Bergman certainly makes you think and his Persona is unquestionably a striking piece of cinematic art. He has the skill of riddling our minds like a Bunuel or even Godard. It’s powerful if not completely satisfying because we can never hope to fully understand it.

4.5/5 Stars

Gone Girl (2014)

Posted on October 14, 2014 by 4 Star Films

My only advice for Gone Girl is to leave all your preconceived notions at the theater entrance because you are about to be blown out of the water. This is not the movie you were expecting–probably very few people were.

The story is based on the source novel of Gillian Flynn who also happened to be the film’s screenwriter. Behind the camera is mystery-thriller phenom David Fincher (Se7en, Zodiac) directing his two stars Ben Affleck (Argo) and Rosamund Pike (Pride and Prejudice).

From the beginning, we get a personal view into the married life of Nick and Amy Dunne. Back in 2005, the romance was just beginning to bud. Now on their 5th wedding anniversary, Amy is gone. Nick is the obvious culprit and we suspect him from the outset of the film, but why would he call in the police to search for his wife? He seems genuinely worried and befuddled by it all.

Soon the police are being taken on a treasure hunt while the whole town becomes frenzied behind the giant media carnival which is having open season on the find Amy campaign. The underlying tension of every present day sequence makes for a nerve-wracking procedural juxtaposed with the romantic journal entries of the gone girl. The race to find Amy is on with the days counting down and Nick collaborating with Detective Boney (Kim Dickens).

By this point, it is insanely difficult to catch up with the narrative because just when a conclusion seems certain a new wrinkle is inserted. There are no givens. Is Nick good? Who is Amy really? Who Knows?

Fincher’s film has one last grand ploy. It shows its hand earlier rather than later, feeding its audience one juicy twist. Far from being done, it continues to follow the fate of poor Nick and Amazing Amy. Gone Girl grows more and more uncomfortable as the days pass and not for the reason you would suspect. On the surface, life seems perfectly normal once more to the still clamoring media, but it’s not the first time that the cameras and reporters fail to see what is really going on.

This is one of the most intense dramas that has come out in years and it in many ways functions as a thriller, a black comedy, and even a satire of the media. The often grisly depictions of violence make the proceeding moments of laughter all that more uncomfortable. Fincher made thrillers before, but nothing quite like this. It’s fidget-inducing, spine-tingling, and utterly perplexing.

4/5 Stars

Wages of Fear (1953)

Posted on October 13, 2014 by 4 Star Films

Directed by Henri-Georges Clouzot, this international thriller stars a cast headed by Yves Montand. The film opens in a hell-hole of a town in South America where many jobless drifters spend their days. The joke is that it is really easy to get there, you just can never get out again.

A Frenchman named Mario (Montand) is one of these vagabonds who has little to do except make eyes at a pretty girl (Vera Clouzot), and sit around the local hangout. Then a massive fire breaks out at a nearby oil field of the corrupt, American Southern Oil Company (SOC). In order to stop the devastation, the solution is to use explosions triggered by nitroglycerin. But the journey to the fields is extremely dangerous so there is the brilliant idea of finding four eager vagrants to transport two trucks of nitro on this 300-mile suicide mission. In need of a break, most of the town jumps at the opportunity. However, only four men actually get this “privilege.”

One is Mario, another his jovial roommate Luigi, and then the closed off and menacing Bimba. The fourth man who eventually joins this trio is Jo who is an older French fellow who befriended Mario. Then, Mario and Jo leave in one vehicle followed by Bimba and Luigi with the fun just beginning. They must navigate the treacherous roads full of not only bumps but barricades and giant boulders. All the while they are worn thin physically and psychologically.

Soon the confident Jo turns into a sickly coward, but the other three must keep on going if they want their payoff. In the end, this mission turns out to be too much for some. Eventually, Mario gets ready to return to his girl with $4,000 in toe, a deliriously happy man.

First off, when it is said that this film is a “thriller,” we are not talking about a Hollywood thriller here, with overwhelming action followed by twist after turn. What makes the Wages of Fear so powerful is the sustained intensity because every moment that the nitroglycerin is in the picture you half expect something to go wrong. As such a thriller, I almost came to expect the ending because I really do not think it could have ended any other way. In many ways, it is not simply a critique of the American oil industry, but also the American film industry, and it confidently defies both.

4.5/5 Stars

Three Colors: Red (1994)

Posted on October 8, 2014 by 4 Star Films

Kieslowski’s films are mostly character driven and yet he often uses high drama to create a far more complex lens to observe his subjects. In Blue, the inciting incident was a deadly car accident. It seems only fitting that he would end this story with the catastrophic sinking of a ferry. He takes the same bleak, no-nonsense approach with little fanfare that he used before. It’s his way.

In fact Three Colors: Red as a whole is another simplistic film in plot, and yet the irony is that the film is chock full of complexity because its major point of interest is interpersonal relationships (as suggested by the intertwining phone lines shown early on). There is nothing more tangled and intricate about humanity than our relationships.

As such, this final installment is in many ways a story about love, romance, and friendship, and yet Kieslowski does not find it necessary to preach to us. He is better and more thoughtful than that, laying out the story for us to ponder and mull over. This is the story or better yet the parable he created.

Valentine (Irene Jacob) is a young student and model who is constantly an innocent and sympathetic figure with a pair of doe eyes. She is often shown in profile which continually reveals her youthful and even sullen beauty. She is even the somber poster girl of a gum campaign plastered around town. There’s a boyfriend in her life who she desires the affection of, and then there’s a brother who is hooked on drugs. In other words, life is far from rosy and secure.

One day she accidentally runs over a dog that she takes to the owner (Jean-Louis Trintignant,) who seems surprisingly unconcerned by the event. She does the only thing she can do with a clear conscious which is taking the dog to the vet and then taking care of it herself. Soon after, Valentine finds herself walking the dog by the old man’s house once more and she discovers what he does all day. It turns out he is a retired judge, and he spends his solitary existence eavesdropping on the conversations of others (including Valentine’s neighbor Auguste).

Later, through the grapevine, she finds out that a retired judge had a suit filed against him, and she rushes to his house to assure him she had no part. He already knows because he was the one who turned himself in.

Over the next days, Valentine begins to empathize more and more with Mr. Kern’s existence. As a former judge, he was forced to make decisions far more difficult than most. In fact, why do people follow laws? Is it out of goodness or purely self-serving? Is morality all relative? What really is good and bad, because how would we act in the other man’s shoes? By this point, we see Kern’s struggle a little better.

Finally, Valentine invites her new found friend to her last fashion show before she heads to England for a few weeks. It’s a touching moment when he pays her a visit after the show, but it also reveals the pain in the old man’s past. It may be a lucky guess but all we know is that Valentine figures him out. It just shows that you cannot judge others by first impressions.

So as it goes, Auguste’s life practically mirrors that of a younger Kern, and thus, so many parallels become evident. Aside from the obvious, I only figured it out after the film was done, but they are both judges, struggle in love and the like. At the end of the film when Kern sees the news about the ferry with Valentine and Auguste aboard, the only thing we know for sure is that there were seven survivors (guess who!). In a somewhat subtle way, the trilogy is connected and Kieslowski ends his tale on a fitting note. It freezes and just like that the career of one man was done for good. A couple years later he would already be gone. But he went out on top and Three Colors cemented his legacy. I always loved the color red the best. Here’s yet another reason why.

4.5/5 Stars

Three Colors: Blue (1993)

Posted on September 28, 2014 by 4 Star Films

“Now I only have one thing left to do: Nothing. I don’t want any belongings, any memories. No friends, no love. Those are all traps.”

I once thought that Before Sunrise was the type of movie that I would want to make. Three Colors: Blue is another concept that I have often envisioned without even knowing it. In fact, I had seen The Descendants, a film with a somewhat similar story arc told from a different perspective. Except whereas Clooney’s film is full of blatant drama and intense familial moments in Hawaii, Blue is far more nuanced.

The Descendants might be a more gripping drama, but Blue has the sort of complex depiction that seems to more closely mirror reality. The grieving process involves isolation, solemness, and at times few words. The easiest way to grieve is not to feel, not to fully embrace the pain. Sometimes that is the simplest if not the healthiest way to deal with it for Julie. It’s a real world approach to the scenario, and it’s no less painful to watch — perhaps even more so.

Julie’s husband Patrice de Courcy was a famous composer who was commissioned to arrange a grand piece to be performed at concerts for the Unification of Europe. It is a great honor and we quickly learn that Patrice is quite a big deal. However, after a car accident, Patrice and his 5-year-old daughter perish in the crash and only Julie gets away alive. It is a stark, unsentimental picture, and it succeeds in changing Julie’s life forever.

After being released from the hospital she soon sells all her possessions and moves out of her family apartment to take up residence somewhere far removed from any acquaintances, including a man named Olivier who is in love with her. She has a new home and begins to sever ties to her old life. The unfinished work of her husband (and her) is trashed and that’s the end of that. In her new Parisian home, she has a rodent problem and becomes the hesitant confidant of a local exotic dancer. Furthermore, she rejects the necklace that a young man pulled out of the wreckage. Her times of solitude are spent swimming laps alone in the local pool, submerged and half-covered in shadow. Grandiose symphonies reverberate through her mind haunting her. In such moments, Kieslowski will often black out the screen in the middle of the scene, effectively interrupting the action for a few seconds before bringing us back.

Words are few and far between for Julie and when she does speak it is often brief and reserved. We are, therefore, forced to observe her without the aid of dialogue. She is certainly detached but there is a provocative side to her. Something is mystifying about her soft features, dark eyes, and short hair. She is a wonderful woman of mystery and beauty because the reality of it is, we do not know a whole lot about her. We must discover more bit by bit and she does not readily disclose information.

It is when pictures of her life literally flash before her eyes on a TV screen that the story takes its next turn. Julie learns soon enough that her husband had a mistress that he was with for a few years. In the hands of Hollywood, this would be high drama. In the hands of Kieslowski, it is far from it. Julie is still the same aloof individual she always was and even a confrontation with the mistress does not change that. She is civil and generous through it all.

Finally, she returns to her husband’s composition which she learns Olivier has started to rewrite. They agree that he will make his own work and Julie must accept it for what it is. Faces from the film float across the screen and a still solemn Julie lets out a few silent tears. The anti-tragedy is complete, a subdued, intriguing piece of cinema. Not for those with short attention spans but, I am interested to see Red and White. Kieslowski intrigues me with his thought provoking films somehow reminiscent of the likes of Bergman or Bunuel.

4.5/5 Stars