Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari (Robert Wiene, 1920)

This film I’ve wanted to see for years. I just haven’t taken the time to acquire it, least of all actually sit down and watch it. Now that I started looking into more German silent films, it seemed like a good time to watch it, and add to my growing knowledge of this area of cinema. Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari is extremely famous and hailed as being one of the first films that spawned the horror genre.

One of the most interesting things about the film, and which has obviously been written the most about, is the highly impressionistic set design. Shadows are painted on the walls and floor, there are detached and eschewed angles, and overall the film looks very otherworldly. I am usually very suspicious of a film that tries to be “realistic”, and is therefore very excited about this film, which goes against realism. The effect at times is remarkable, and ominous. This works very well with the horror theme, and one can see why American films such as horror or noir films are influenced by the style of Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari. The style is highly aesthetic, and very interesting and pleasing to look at. It is impressive that the film was shot in studio this way, and the film goes to show that realism isn’t always the way to go. The sets show the characters state of mind and the camera angles work well to establish the madness of it all. Indeed, anyone could go mad living in a place like the one portrayed in this film. Even with the great set design, the film wouldn’t be as good without the intricate cinematography and directing, which equally complements the set design. The style of the film is very coherent and it all goes towards a single goal. I believe this is very important to any film, and this film doesn’t just use style arbitrarily, but for a goal and specific purpose.

The plot is fairly simple, but it is enhanced with being of the mysterious nature. The mystery, the unknown, form the basis for the horror, and the audience will be at times asking many questions about the narrative and how it is going to unfold. There are some questions about the ending of the film, and apparently, the film company of the time tacked it on to please the audience, much to the avail of the writers of the film. I’m not sure exactly how accurate this is, but regardless, I find that the film works, both in narrative and thematically, better with the ending rather than without. The mysticism around Dr. Caligari is what I found the most fascinating about the film, and the horror that he creates around the city and some of his scenes are the best. Strictly speaking, the narrative is fairly simple, but for its time, I assume, it was something of a milestone. I’m not really for all that “appreciating something of its time”, even if a film might have been good 80 years ago, it doesn’t mean it is good today. Or perhaps, it wasn’t good in the first place, but people back then were idiots. Regardless, I can greatly appreciate silent films, if they are well crafted. Murnau for example, his films are better crafted than most films of today, so his films haven’t aged a bit. In narrative terms, I feel that this film is slightly dated, but in the end, it doesn’t hinder the great set design and chilling atmosphere from still being powerful to this day.

I like Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari a lot. I had some issues with the narrative and some of the structure of the film, but overall the main points that makes this film so famous, the great set design and cinematography, as well as the mysticism and cult of the film makes it worthwhile to watch to this day. Films don’t really age, if they are bad today; they were bad when they were made. Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari was good when it was made, and is still equally good today.

Tartuffe (F.W. Murnau, 1926)

This film is based on a play by Molière, a French playwright. He is known to be one of the greatest comedy playwrights of all time. I read Tartuffe some years ago, and couldn’t remember much of the plot, but the play has always stayed with me. It is an indictment of hypocrisy, particularly religious and Christian hypocrisy. I recently saw Pabst adaptation of Brecht’s play The Threepenny Opera, and had some critical points on it. I was concerned whether or not Murnau would fall into some of the same traps as Pabst.

Seeing this just some hours after seeing the phenomenal Der Letzte Mann (F.W. Murnau, 1924) is probably not such a good idea. It is a bit of a disappointment compared, although it does have its strengths. One of the crucial points is that Molière’s play was a comedy, and this should be too. Due to the play being a comedy, much of it was based on dialogue, rather than physicality, like say Chaplin. Dialogue driven comedy wasn’t really the strength of silent cinema, and it does show to some extent here. The film isn’t that funny, although it does get the themes and irony across. Due to the film not being very funny, it felt a bit flat, and the plot didn’t quite complement the mood. Although the atmosphere is great, like any Murnau film, it worked much better in Nosferatu (F.W. Murnau, 1922) than here. Emil Jannings returns for Murnau here, playing Tartuffe, and the contrast is big. He looks like pure evil in this film, while in Der Letzte Mann he was a very sympathetic character. Good trademark of an actor I guess. The film also felt more stilted than Murnau’s other efforts, the technique he has otherwise showed is not here, and as a consequence it felt less interesting. I know it is not all about technique, but Murnau’s use of it was so good that I really missed it. I felt that the adaptation of Brecht’s play was stronger than this, but that might have something to do with that film being a sound film with monologue. Tartuffe is silent, and with only writing on the screen to substitute, a lot of what was good about the play is gone, or harder to get across.

The film is not quite that close to Tartuffe in many ways. In a way it is a film within a film. There is a plot, set in modern times, which is a parallel to Tartuffe. An old woman who takes care of an old man manages to convince him that his grandson is no good, as he is an actor (oh the horror!). He is convinced, and signs over his will to this woman who cleans his house. To get to his grandfather, the young man dresses up as a man going around town and with a projector showing films. The film he shows is, of course, Tartuffe. With this wraparound plot and the very short running time of the film, just over an hour, the film has omitted much of the narrative from the play. The film does feel quite unsatisfactory with its short playing time, and I believe that with a longer running time and more story the film could have been significantly improved, adding more meat to the plot. While I have criticized this film quite a bit, I did like it, but it doesn’t stand out as a classic, and is indeed the weakest I’ve seen by Murnau. I think there are some silent films that were successful adaptations of literature and theatre, but in many ways this format is perhaps not the best platform. Sound films have a better potential, considering that play and literature are mediums which rely very much on the written word, while silent film, to a much greater extent than sound film, is a visual medium. Perhaps it is better that films don’t adopt so much from other arts, but then again, there have been some fantastic films based on great works from other mediums. This is not one of them though.

An interesting watch, if nothing else, I remember liking Tartuffe, the play, quite a lot, and was sadly disappointed with this. Still, I am even more excited about watching more silent films from Germany, and while this may be one of Murnau’s weaker films, there is still a lot of good craft shown here, but the painfully short playing time, the lack of a structured narrative and the lack of true comedy makes this come short compared to the original play.

Der Letzte Mann (F.W. Murnau, 1924)

I am really starting to get more into silent films. I’ve watched some of the classics and obvious ones, but I have never really taken the time to really explore this area of cinema history in any sort of depth. I have therefore decided to attempt to watch more silent films, and I’ve got quite a bunch of German silent films waiting for me. The obvious start is Murnau, arguably one of the masters of the silent era.

I hadn’t heard much about Der Letzte Mann, compared to probably Murnau’s other two most famous films, Nosferatu (1922) and Sunrise (1927). I’ve seen both of those, and to my surprise, I liked Der Letzte Mann much more than both of those. To me, the film had an incredible staying power. Additionally, the film doesn’t use any dialogue. Of course, in terms of silent cinema, that means no title screens. This makes the film flow really nicely, because “dialogue” in silent films can sometimes be a distraction. Here, though, the film relies solely on visual storytelling, and becomes much more powerful because of it. It is also helped with an inspired performance by Emil Jannings, who plays the character with great sympathy. At the core of the film is a theme about the nasty evil within humans, and the film is at times very sad. It’s not just a critique of the upper-class, which it also is, but a critique of people of all stations, poor or rich. It also takes a stab at how people perceive each other on the basis of status in society. All this is developed quite nicely, but one of the things that make the films so worthwhile is the performance Emil Jannings. Without the benefit of dialogue Jannings still manages to capture the protagonist in a wonderful way, in his happiest moments and in his saddest moments. There is both naivety and desperation in his character, and his presence on screen is always wonderful.

With this film I finally, really, get why Murnau is cited as one of the greatest filmmakers of the silent era. The film uses an impressive array of techniques that I have never seen in such early films, and I am sure that Murnau pioneered many of these, including a wonderful dream sequence that is very Freudian. But its not just about the techniques, Murnau’s shot composition is at times fantastic, creating some really emotional strong shots. He is also great at using tracking shots and at times handheld camera. All the array of little tricks that Murnau has makes his film very memorable, and some scenes are truly inventive in their structure. But there is also a very important point in that the film manages to have drama that isn’t flat, but interesting and changes pace throughout. The film also has quite an ominous message, it is quite dark. At the end, there is tacked on a “happy ending”. Now before this “happy ending” comes, the film announces that, unfortunately, these “happy endings” do not occur in real life. This is quite a brave move, and absolutely justifies the very deus ex machina ending. Without it, the film would have been much weaker than it is, and despite having a happy ending, being quite dark in its message. Der Letzte Mann is probably one of the best silent films I’ve seen, and truly shows Murnau at the top of his power as an inventive director.

I wasn’t quite sure what I would thing of this, but it turned out to be a right out masterpiece. The scene structure, the shot composition, the wonderful performance, and the very simple but effective plot all go towards creating a unique and wonderful cinematic experience which makes me really want to watch more of these German silent film classics. All the Murnau DVD’s I own are Masters of Cinema releases, and they are very good, I definitely advice anyone interested to get these great DVDs. Masters of Cinema rule.

City Lights (Charles Chaplin, 1931)

The famous tramp, Charlie Chaplin, is such an icon that I’ve seen references to him almost everywhere. The charm and comedy of Chaplin is undeniable, but what is more interesting is his skill as a filmmaker, as an artist. Indeed, Tarkovsky who I recently reviewed saw Chaplin as one of the greatest and most poetic filmmakers of all time, and this came from a man who generally hated Hollywood and the studio system. One of my favourite films of all time is the hilarious and poignant The Gold Rush (Charles Chaplin, 1925). Indeed, Chaplin has all the elements that makes one an auteur; he writes and directs all his films, star in them and created the iconic character of the little tramp. I was quite looking forward to seeing City Lights.

City Lights is seen as one of Chaplin’s greatest masterpieces. And indeed, the film consists of all the elements that make a great Chaplin film. It is very funny, but still has place for heartfelt emotions. His films also have a slightly dark undercurrent, and are sometimes quite depressing, albeit making fun of this depression, which is one of the main things that makes his films so poignant. One thing about City Lights that is notable is that, while most of Hollywood was turning towards talkies, Chaplin continued to make his films silent. I think that such an iconic character, which made his name on his physicality, this was a good call on Chaplin’s side, although The Great Dictator (Charles Chaplin, 1940) was an astounding achievement even though it was a talkie. The physical humour is fantastic in this, from the first scene where the tramp causes havoc at a gathering, going out to drink and eat with a wealthy drunk, or in the famous boxing sequence. Much of the best comedy, though, works by juxtaposition of sentimental moments with silly gags at the expense of the tramp. For example when he is deeply in love and a cat knocks over a flowerpot that hits his head. These kinds of gags make the film stronger, as it manages to create an assortment of emotions while yet keeping the humour up throughout the whole film and creating a strong bond between the audience and the protagonist. Most comedies, not just today, but ever, have always had a hard time doing this. The tramp character is silly, but ever resourceful, set on his tasks and never gives up. Chaplin early on clearly sets out the characters goal, and he sticks to this throughout the whole film. This kind of persistence is what makes him so lovable for audiences, even today.

The film is sweet at heart, but there is also some darkness in there. This was made during the depression, and this fits well with the tramp. A great scene, which symbolises this in a great way, is where the tramp has acquired fine clothing and an expensive car, yet he has no money. He sees a rich man on the street throw a cigar on the street. Chaplin charges for this and takes it, beating another tramp to it, goes back into his car, exchange looks with the other tramp and drives off. It is a hilarious moment, but also has some true resonance for the time. The film is a love story, and a sweet one at that. The tramp falls in love with a blind flower girl, a very interesting choice for a love interest. This creates further resonance and bonding with the audience, as they identify with the tramp trying to help someone fairly helpless. Another highlight of the film is the tramps friendship with the rich man. Although it is a fairly unstable friendship, as the rich man only recognises the tramp when he is drunk. When he wakes up sober, he becomes a mean man who usually throws the tramp out of his house. The tramps confusion over this is hilarious. Audiences love to know more than the characters, and Chaplin has often recognised this to create some very funny situations. Chaplin’s timing is also for most of the time impeccable. Particularly when the tramp is walking back and forth on a sidewalk, and right behind there is a trap door in the pavement that opens and closes. This creates great expectation with the audience, then retracts it, and gives it again. Chaplin is also a master of sustaining a laugh, repeating gags with subtle differences and makes them seem fresh every time. But at the heart of his films, what is important with Chaplin is the poignant moments, and while the comedy is great, it is these poignant moments which elevates his films above the rest, and become more than mere comedies for a laugh.

City Lights is a great film, a masterpiece in fact. It has the perfect blend of humour and subtlety, with the charm and naivety of the tramp as a way of driving the film forward. These are some of the reasons why Chaplin is still so well remembered today, because he can create great emotional resonance in his audience, unlike almost all other comedians and comedy films. They are more than comedy films, and I hope to see more of these great films.

Nostalghia (Andrey Tarkovsky, 1983)

I’ve been quite fascinated with the idea of being in a foreign country and strongly missing your home country. There is something peaceful about that idea, and could lead to many interesting themes. In Nostalghia, a Russian is staying in Italia while missing his home back in Russia. Of course, this is the kind of thing that Tarkovsky does very well, he has similar ideas in many of his other films, such as Solaris (1972) where the protagonist misses his home, or Stalker (1979) where the Stalker misses something else than the dreary urban landscape he lives in, and yearns for something better. And indeed, Nostalghia doesn’t miss its mark.

As always, the cinematography in Tarkovsky’s films is fascinating, to say the least, and this might yet be the most beautifully shot film I’ve seen by him. The colour, the black and white, the monochrome, it is all very beautiful, and his shots evoke so much emotion and ideas that it is astounding. There are several visual elements that echo Stalker; one of the most profound is an image of a dog, which reminds me of a similar shot from Stalker. Much like Tarkovsky’s other films, but even more here, the film is drenched in water. The walls and ground is soaked, mist hangs in the air and there are plenty of water pools. As well, it rains inside, something we also saw in Stalker and Solaris. But the films highlight is its pacing. This is probably the best pacing Tarkovsky has managed to create in any of his films, and it is quite hypnotic. The long takes, the slow pans and tracks, it all evokes a feeling of timelessness, like being lost in a dream. The film is shot in both colour and black & white, however, the colours are toned down to such an extent that it is at times close to looking like black & white. This further works to create the hypnotic effect. Like much of Tarkovsky, the film walks the line between real and dream. The shots of homeland Russia are noteworthy impressive, most of them shot in slow motion, but less than normal slow motion, meaning that it takes some time before the viewer realizes it is slow motion, but can still sense something else, something intangible, about the images. In many ways, Tarkovsky’s films are intangible, but that is one of the undeniable charms of his films, and makes them unique pieces of cinema and confirms him as one of the masters of the craft.

There are a lot of images and physical objects that makes appearances in almost all of Tarkovsky’s films. Like the bed the protagonist sleeps on in Nostalghia, an almost identical bed is seen in both Stalker and Zerkalo (1975). Or milk, which is a prominent image in the aforementioned films and Andrei Rublev (1966). These images creates an interesting continuity in all of Tarkovsky’s films, which makes them interesting to see as experienced audiences can recognise these recurring images. These images also have certain meaning to them, but as Tarkovsky pointed out himself, these meanings are individual to each audience who sees his films and evokes something different in everyone. His images aren’t symbols, because he didn’t create them with a specific meaning, or, they did mean something specific to him, but he created them on screen in such a way that everyone can respond to these images on their own, instead of interpreting what the director is “trying to say”. For me, this gives Tarkovsky’s films a special reverberation with me, because I as an audience can take what I interpret from the images. One does not need to create an elaborate meaning of what each image “means”. This is very open ended directing, and within the film allows the audience to have a conversation with Tarkovsky, although he is usually hard to get at some points. Still, the film is simple and beautiful in its images and themes, and the hypnotic pacing allows much room for reflection. Indeed, this isn’t one of Tarkovsky’s best, but I still haven’t seen a film by him that wasn’t really good, so it doesn’t say much. The film borders on being a masterpiece, and I think it will reward being watched again.

A wonderful exercise in filmmaking power from Tarkovsky. The films pace and cinematography remain the most crucial aspects to the films success, and the images are able to evoke strong emotions and reflection. Pure cinema, in many ways. Tarkovsky continues to impress, and this film stands as the most reflective and “pure” that I have seen by him.

Le Boucher (Claude Chabrol, 1970)

Claude Chabrol is known as the French Hitchcock. In Le Boucher this is probably more apparent than ever. There are many elements at use here that are similar to Hitchcock, but at the same time, Chabrol manages to make the film and style his own, transcending what Hitchcock did. It is difficult to say whether Chabrol is better than Hitchcock or not, I would say that they are both very interesting, and have their different strengths. It is a bit unfair to compare Chabrol to Hitchcock so much, because it never seems like he is plagiarising Hitchcock in any way, and his films are quite unique to him.

The setting is a small town out in the country, a fitting scene for these kinds of film, and indeed, Hitchcock used this himself on occasions. One thing I can now say, after having watched this film, is that Chabrol is a clever director. In good films, it is like having a conversation with the director, discussing, arguing, and so forth. I also felt this in Le Boucher, and my conversation with Chabrol was interesting indeed. Chabrol was good at subverting my expectations, and then making me happy afterwards with some reveal. Actually, this is a film that will make you ask questions in your head, but most importantly, it allows you to delve deeper into the characters, and analyse and question their actions and motives. The atmosphere in this film is probably the most unnerving that I have seen in a Chabrol film. While much of this is due to the great camerawork, I should also mention the absolutely fantastic and chilling score that accompanies the film. The sound design is also impeccable, creating an eerie mood throughout the film. The film also has one of the greatest reveals of a dead body, a moment that truly stands out in all of the great scenes from the film. Something else that Chabrol also does very well is changing the perspectives of the audience. We are never left alone, and the film perks at our suspicions and beliefs. This makes the film far more interesting than most other similar films, but then again, this isn’t like any murder film you’ll usually watch.

At the heart of the film, though, is the relationship developing between the two lead characters. Chabrol uses the same actors as before, but I don’t mind really, and they usually do such a good job that it doesn’t matter anyway. The crime going on in the small town is a good backdrop for the relationship, and it exposes the characters to some degree. Bergman tried something similar with using war and animal slaughter in Skammen and In Passion respectively, and for him it worked better in the later than the former. It works quite well for Chabrol here, and it is a technique that can be effective and hasn’t been utilized by filmmakers enough in modern times. The characters are deep enough to keep one interested, and even in its quiet moments, the film feels very intense, much due to the great sound design. There is always something unnerving about this film, and this is one of its greatest strengths. The plot itself isn’t that interesting, but it’s not supposed to be. Some modern day viewers, who are used to the plot being the most important thing in film, will probably be put back by this, but it is by no means unusual for European films, particularly during this era. I like it when plot becomes just a backdrop, because it is so simple to make up plot. The hard thing for filmmakers is to make their films something beyond plot, and I feel that Chabrol is quite successful in his attempt here.

An excellent film by Chabrol, it is unnerving, has great sub-text and develops its characters well throughout the film. The atmosphere and music is impeccable, and goes a long way to making the film even more interesting. The audience almost feels that it is at no time safe, and credit to Chabrol; he does a good job at achieving this. Chabrol is a very interesting director indeed.

Die 3 Groschen-Oper (Georg Wilhelm Pabst, 1931)

I watched this curiosity due to my fascination with the German playwright Bertolt Brecht. This is a filmed version of his play The 3-penny Opera, a musical. It is not the kind of musical one is used to, such as Hollywood musicals. Regardless, the film and play are an indictment of bourgeoisie society. It uses irony and satire to creating its scathing criticism of society and individuals. The Brechtian technique is not too apparent here, but that is reflected in that Brecht subsequently sued the company and the filmmakers for ruining his work. Still, I found there was more than enough interesting stuff in the film to keep me from turning off.

The film presents an almost apocalyptic view of society, penetrating through all the filth and hypocrisy. For a film made in the 30’s, this film is quite remarkable. The filmmaking craft is impeccable; the shots are extremely well created. Then again, Germany at the time was one of the cinema powerhouses of the old days, so it is not too surprising. For a film based on a play, it is quite far removed from theatre. This is a musical, so there are a few musical numbers, but very different from what one would expect, being mostly used to Hollywood musicals. But the songs themselves are really good, the score is good, and the lyrics are great. Somewhat, though, they don’t seem to fill the gap enough, there could surely have been more songs. Still, what goes on screen is enough to create the drama, although this could hardly be categorized as a drama film. The sometimes quiet moments are contrasted with scenes of high intensity. The film is also very funny, in its own way. The hypocrisy and evil is so wonderfully portrayed, the characters are for the most part a blast, particularly the main character, who is a schemer and ladies man. The characters antics are quite amusing, and this is one of the main attractions of the film. Brecht has always been great at using stereotypes in a very unique way, and this shows clearly here. Another amusing character is the beggar’s king. He basically runs a business where he makes poor people dress up as dreadfully as possible to make people have pity and give money, then take in some of the profit. A wonderful character, in a quite unusual business, and it summarizes much of what the film is about.

Brecht hated this film, and to some degree I can see why. Yeah, it is true that Brecht didn’t quite appreciate the full extent of the artistic value of cinema. The film doesn’t quite utilize the techniques of Brecht’s Epic Theatre, and it doesn’t try to alienate or create the effect that theatre was supposed to, according to Brecht. Other than the musical numbers, the film doesn’t use any techniques such as Brecht used. In this respect, the film is fairly classical and uses techniques already fairly established in cinema. And actually, the film could have been stronger if it used the techniques of Brecht, to create some fluency between the source material and the film. The film doesn’t quite work according to the ideas and theories of Brecht. Although I am usually adamant that films should be liberal when adapting source material, such as literature or theatre, in this instance it could have helped. I still like the film, but one feels if it should ever have been made in the first place, it is a bit unnecessary. Still, some of the greatest directors of all time, in particular Mizoguchi and Kurosawa, made their best film based on literary source material. The problem here though is that while the film doesn’t adhere to the rules of Brecht, and don’t enlarge his themes, the film in itself doesn’t really say that much otherwise, which is its biggest flaw. Although I do think that Brecht did go a bit out of his way in suing the filmmakers, as they in many ways did do quite a good job, and in the end, so what, they created a film out of his play, but it doesn’t really hurt his original material, and in the end, it seems like he is nitpicking a bit.

There are lots of merits to this film, but overall it wasn’t the greatest film experience I’ve had. There is a lot of wonderful stuff here, but mostly as a result of the great source material the film adapted. I feel the filmmaker wasn’t quite able to make it his own, and neither was he able to make it very Brechtian. It is an interesting little curiosity, and Criterion actually released it, in a quite outstanding edition, with lots of neat extras. If you love Brecht, then this is worth checking out, but otherwise, the average film buff won’t find that much interesting material in here.

Effi Briest (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1974)

Fassbinder, the ever so reclusive German and fellow Brecht admirer, is a director that I’ve been looking forward to explore for quite some time now. I’ve only seen one of his films before, Angst essen Seele auf (1974), and it is a masterpiece, so Effi Briest looked like a decent view. The title is actually much longer, but I can’t be bothered to list the whole long one up here, check it on IMDb. Regardless, Effi Briest turned out to be quite an interesting and unique watch.

We are brought back to the late 19th century. A young girl is married to an elder man of some prestige and wealth. Now, what was most interesting about this film was its style and structure. For certain, if you don’t understand or appreciate Fassbinder’s techniques, then you might not like his films. The film is very detached from the events that take place on the screen. For example, if something very emotional has happened to a character, instead of showing that scene, Fassbinder will just shot a tracking shot of that character walking, and a narrator will in an impassioned voice talk about the incident. He also uses a lot of text, to illustrate to the audience what is going on in the characters mind. Fassbinder does go through a bit of pain to elaborate what he is trying, but I think, to quite some extent, he succeeds here, although not on such a grand scale as Angst essen Seele auf. But it is definitely a progression of Fassbinder’s style, and I find it endlessly fascinating. It is sort of his own brand of Epic Cinema, and I think it will be enjoyable to explore more of these methods. Fassbinder doesn’t allow much for psychological interpretation, like say Bergman. His alienation techniques work well though, and the idea about the film not being a character drama but about something larger, is quite good. The film uses the characters for its own purpose to create meaning and themes about society and, in particular, criticize the bourgeoisie.

I wouldn’t find it too unreasonable that someone might not like Fassbinder’s style. It is at times quite imprudent and difficult. But, if you go into his films with a certain mindset and are aware of his style and the theory behind it, one might find a lot of worth in these films. There is an idea in drama about “pressure and release”. Take any scene from most films. It starts out calm, and then becomes very intense, and at the end, it is calm again. This effect is utilized a bit differently here, sort of. Basically the pressure is held for most the film, but when it is finally is released, the moment is absolutely fantastic and powerful. It quite reminded me of the book The Stranger by Albert Camus, if you’ve read that. The effect is similarly stirring. The film is an excellent exercise in technique, but it is also a strong piece of cinema in its own right. The black and white cinematography is quite captivating, and Fassbinder’s fascination with using mirrors in many of his shots is interesting, as well as aesthetically beautiful. It is also one of the films, theoretically and aesthetically that is, that I have found the most interesting in quite a while. Fassbinder made an impressive amount of films in his relative short lifetime, and he brilliantly exhibits his talent here. In some ways I found it an artist trying to reach for too much, but then I remind myself how successful he is at all of it in this film, although his techniques still could use a bit more polishing. It is always fascinating to watch a director trying to develop his style across several films.

A brilliant film in many ways, an infantile film in others, much like Fassbinder himself seemed to be. Regardless, Fassbinder is a fascinating filmmaker, and he takes his cue from Brecht brilliantly here, while at the same time creating an idiosyncratic and personal style of his own. If you though I am Legend was the best film of 2007, don’t watch this, but if you thought it was utter shit, then this might be something for you. Also strongly recommended for any admirers of Bertolt Brecht.

En Passion (Ingmar Bergman, 1969)

Finally were getting back into what it’s all about; careful, intense, small character studies. This is what Bergman masters best and he can repeat it many times without going over the same kind of thing twice. One thing that surprised me was that the film was in colour. It was made just a year after Skammen (Ingmar Bergman, 1968), which was in black and white. But it’s okay though, because the cinematography is beautiful throughout. It still doesn’t hold up to Bergman’s best colour film Viskningar och Rop (1972), but it has many admirable strengths. Hey, and I’d like to complain again. This film was released by the same company that released the Skammen DVD, and what is up with the DVD menu? It looks like something cheaply made in some bad program. Ah, it’s just annoying.

Max von Sydow and Liv Ullmann return again, featuring their tortured faces. Bibi Andersson is also cast, and thank God because she does add her usual spark and liveliness to the film. Sydow and Ullmann’s performances are even stronger here than in Skammen, and they truly encapsulates the dreary and dark universe that Bergman creates. Sydow looks like a tortured soul, and Liv Ullmann has rarely looked sadder. What I complained about in my Skammen review is all gone like a bad dream, and here we are given the pure core of the material, rather all that other bullshit to fill the gaps. This is a character drama, and a pretty damn strong one at that. There are hints and clues at the cracks in the characters psyche, and we are given an open-ended look at their character traits. There is a lot of room for interpretation, and yet the characters still remain quite ambiguous to the end. Bergman is also one of the greatest at exposing the weakness and hypocrisy in human relationships. The gaze of the camera is penetrating in this film, and again Bergman uses his great skills with the camera to create some great shots. Actually, there are less of those kind of shots that I love than in Skammen, but here they are used to greater effect and the film overall is better structurally, so it doesn’t matter much. Also, I am a sucker for black and white cinematography. Sure, the film does look great, but I will still any day take black and white over colour. Incidentally, on IMDb, at the moment, Skammen got an average rating of 8.1, while En Passion “only” got 7.8. It just goes to show how superficial the average Bergman viewer is.

Probably one of the most powerful moments of the film is when we see several slaughtered and mauled sheep lying dead on the ground. Some jackass is running around the island the film takes place and is killing and torturing animals. While Bergman makes the audience try to figure out who did it, I don’t believe Bergman would care much to provide a clear answer to the question, but only make us pry into it. It is never clear, and it was never supposed to be. This is one thing I often hate, people asking “who done it?” Does it really matter? No it doesn’t, especially in films such as this. There is something more important about this being done, it is creating associations in our heads, further reasons to look into the characters psychology and works well with the rest of the narrative. It is done for something bigger; Bergman doesn’t have time to provide answers for such meaningless small narrative queries. The characters are fascinating, dark and there is enough sub-text for the whole family. Actually, I would recommend watching this with your family; maybe you’ll learn something about each other. The film is, quite surprisingly, fast paced. Obviously, the average audience will feel that this is slower than taking British Rail, but in many ways, compared to other Bergman films, it is quite fast. It may have something to do with the intensity of the script and narrative, as well as the performances, but I did like the pacing of the film. It still is able to take the odd moment to reflect on the world, but never more than necessary. Bergman is as usual great at creating fantastic and powerful endings, hopefully without that sentence sounding too much like an overused cliché, this is no exception.

Great to be back in familiar Bergman territory. The two last ones were alright, but this is the real good stuff of his work. Dramatic character studies will always survive, because they are so universal and powerful. Sydow and Ullmann are both great, and it is always a joy to see Bibi Andersson’s presence on the screen. It is dark, bleak, and dreary, exactly as vintage Bergman should be. Watch it at the expense of your own optimism.

Skammen (Ingmar Bergman, 1968)

Skammen, another Ingmar Bergman film that isn’t among his most famous, but I’ve heard enough praise to want to see it. Apparently, the film I watched, the DVD version, is in wrong aspect ratio. But then again, I didn’t notice, and the amount of DVD releases for this film aren’t exactly plentiful, and regardless, it cost me 4£. Besides, I didn’t quite notice this while watching it, so how bad could the transfer have been. Still, I will use this opportunity to complain about this issue. Why can’t these people release the films in their original aspect ratio, what is so hard about that?

Anyway, in Sweden, for some reason, war is raging and a married couple, played by Max von Sydow and Liv Ullmann, two people quite regularly cast in Bergman’s films. Everything starts out nice and idyllic; although the married couple has personal problems, like any other. But oh damn! War hits and the people suffer psychologically and are torn apart by the atrocities of war. The film is quite bleak, but not bleaker than many other Bergman films. The film does contain some fantastic moments, and some of Bergman’s camera setups are absolutely fantastic. But the film does suffer a bit. Fine, it’s about war, but I’m not sure if this is the area that Bergman tackles the best. In fact, I was bored during the “war” scenes. The style adopted for these doesn’t suit the rest of the film, and as a consequence, it seems to vary a bit between the phenomenal and the dull. The films highpoints, regardless, are still great, but they polarize the film too much. The cinematography is though some of the best I’ve seen by Bergman, but best at its most simple moments. The close ups, and wide shots, equally, are great, and throughout we are given moments of extreme intensity and emotional impact. I think the film might have been better if it limited itself, at times it seem too big, too big for itself. Bergman’s best films have always been small quiet dramas, and while Skammen has these moments, it is obscured too much with the overload and pompous war scenes.

Another area that isn’t as strong here as his other films is the psychological development of the characters. Sure, it is better than most other films, however, we are talking about Ingmar Bergman here, one of the greatest directors of psychological cinema, so our standards should be quite high. It is adequate. Sure, we get it; they suffer mentally because of the war. It can all become a bit overbearing. However, some of the early marriage stuff is great, and the opening has the best moments, although the end is fantastic and very strong. The film starts off fantastically, takes a dip through the middle, and grabs itself up by the end. For all its faults, the film is still very powerful and the moments as such aren’t spoiled by the less interesting moments. Max von Sydow and Liv Ullmann also do great jobs at their respective parts, although it is always quite amusing to listen to Liv Ullmann attempt at speaking Swedish. One of the points of the film is how innocent people suffer in the brink of war, and to this the film does quite well. However, the overall theme of war and the psychological development of the characters is not explored well or thoroughly enough. Ultimately the film suffers from being made by Bergman. I have grown accustomed to expect a lot from Bergman films, and this one falls a bit short of the mark. I guess I have come to the level where I have, like with Fellini, Kurosawa and Hitchcock, seen the most of his greatest films, and all that is left are the curiosities in between. It is a bit sad, but also slightly exiting, as I know there are probably some hidden masterworks somewhere that I still haven’t seen by Bergman, but still, my extensive exploring of his work is probably over. For now anyway.

The film is very good. However, it is average Bergman. That doesn’t say a whole lot, and the film is filled with some of his best moments of extreme emotional impact. The cinematography is at times wonderful, stark and beautiful. The ending is also fantastic and very Bergmanesuqe. Recommended for experienced Bergman viewers, but for people just starting out, start somewhere else.

Laura (Otto Preminger, 1944)

I have to say, the noir genre is starting to really appeal to me. I like the settings, the main characters, the film craft and cinematography, as well as the plot twists. I don’t know exactly what it is specifically, but it is a genre I will like to explore much more. Laura is a noir film from the classic period, and one can see all the elements that made the noir genre in this film. This is probably also one of the most well cast noir films I’ve seen, with great performances across the board.

Laura is murdered in her apartment, and there are several suspects. It is up to Lieutenant McPherson to solve the murder, and go through all the suspects. There are two men that were intimate with Laura, that are suspects. One is Shelby, played by the creepy Vincent Price. The other is Waldo, and intellectual journalist, played by probably the best actor in the film, Clifton Webb. He is wonderful as the sharp-witted journalist with a poisonous tongue. The film is full of twists and turns, but surprisingly it never gets too complicated. The film is at such straightforward, but it is always focused and has a specific path it goes. Some noir films seem to move about quite randomly, but not this one, which was nice. The directing is top notch from Otto Preminger, the way he moves his camera is at time amazing, not because it is extremely technically complicated, but because he makes the movement so beautiful. There are also small clues laid out throughout the film, so audiences who keep focused can to some degree see what is going to happen and what will have importance later on, which does feel quite rewarding. It isn’t that often that noir films do this, but I was happy that it was done here, because it gives a bit of re-watch value, as well as makes the film a richer experience.

The score for this film is beautiful, and goes a long way to add to the atmosphere of the film. The cinematography is moody and also helps create the pressing atmosphere. The film uses some flashback techniques that I wasn’t too happy about, but then again, this is Hollywood, and I guess they are part of it. They could have been used a little more cleverly though, there are many different examples of different clever ways to use flashbacks, such as Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941) and It’s A Wonderful Life (Frank Capra, 1946). It is bit disappointing, but anyway, the film otherwise, and the flashbacks themselves, are good. The film is quite short, just over 80 minutes, but it works quite well, and makes the films structure more tight. This is also the kind of film that doesn’t hold up well if it is too long, due to losing the suspense when dragging on. For the most part it all works. The thing about Laura, though, is that it lacks that little extra something to make it a great film. It is good, very good in fact, but overall it doesn’t seem that impressive compared to all the other great classics of the era. But the film is unique in its own way, the cast is great, and it does offer something new to an audience who are already familiar with the noir genre.

I enjoyed watching Laura. Not the best of the classic Hollywood era I’ve seen, but also far from the worst. It was bit sad that I couldn’t get more out of it, but the film does deliver, and one can’t really want much more from this type of film. If you like noir, definitely check this one out. And get the excellent Cinema Reserve version.

The Man Who Fell to Earth (Nicholas Roeg, 1976)

Alright, I am going to be completely honest here. This is going to be a biased review. The reason is that this film star David Bowie and one simply cannot criticise anything that Bowie participates in. It’s simply not heard of. Listen, this guy owned the 70’s. Ziggy Stardust? Station to Station, Low, Heroes, Scary Monsters and many more. And in his coke-fuelled madness of creating music Bowie also found time to star in Nicholas Roeg’s The Man Who Fell to Earth, playing the alien. Fittingly, actually, as aliens and outer space are often subjects of Bowie’s music. And indeed, Bowie is quite freaked out as the man from outer space in this.

So this man from outer space lands on earth, in search of water for his family back on his home planet. The plot maybe doesn’t seem too intriguing, but the execution, and perhaps more importantly, the development of Bowie’s character is what is important in the film. Along the way he is sidetracked by all the wonderful attractions that earth has to offer. Or wait, actually they aren’t that wonderful. The alien is caught up in an endless spiral of sex, alcohol and materialism, and loses track of his ultimate goal. Like most of these types of films, it is rather a scathing criticism of human nature and society rather than a simple story of an alien coming to visit (E.T. anyone? Or Close Encounters of the Second Kind? In fact, everything Spielberg ever made. Except for Jaws, of course, Jaws was awesome). There is one thing about Roeg’s directing that ticks me off, and that is his insistent use of the zoom button on his camera. It is at most times annoying. However, it is not overused otherwise. Which is great, because every other single element of Roeg’s directing is brilliant and flawless. The cinematography is unique and beautiful in its own gritty way, his editing flows like no other film, and his sense of pacing and atmosphere reaches new heights in this. So except for the use of the zoom, the film, aesthetically speaking, is perfect and beautiful in every way.

Actually, I can’t understand why this film isn’t as iconic as it should be. It features one of the most iconic artists of the 70s, the style is perfect for the era but still completely unique to Roeg. I also don’t understand people who say they can’t “get” the film. What is there to get? Alien comes, looks for water, stays. It couldn’t be simpler. But then again, the average audience will let an aesthetic style that is slightly different from the Hollywood standard obscure an otherwise simple narrative (Mirror by Tarkovsky is a good example of this). Bowie is perfect in this. There is, even outside this film, something strange and otherworldly about him, which makes him so perfect. Also, at the time his nose was for the most time buried in cocaine, which might contribute to his “strangeness”. But there are also some emotional moments that seem very true, and his performance is very versatile. There are other actors, and they do good work, particularly the lead lady, but don’t forget, this is Bowie’s film. His presence on screen gives the whole feel a strange atmosphere, and coupled by the brilliant and unique directing from Roeg this is indeed a wonderful mix. They are both equally important to the film, and it couldn’t have been as good without either of them. The themes developed are also very interesting, and the film is quite intense at times.

Brilliant aesthetically, a brilliant Bowie with his head in coke, a Roeg on the top of his game and we have probably one of the best films of the 70s. And that’s not an overstatement, because I really believe this. The hypnotic feel of the film makes this stick to my mind, and a re-watch seems imminent. Watch it, you may not like it, but you will never see a film like it. Unless, of course, you watch another film by Roeg. But then again, his other films don’t feature Bowie. “There’s a starman waiting in the sky. He’d like to come and meet us. But he thinks he’d blow our minds.”

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (Frank Capra, 1939)

Okay, sorry, I haven’t reviewed here in a long while now, but I’ve had much work to do lately; essays, scripts, journalistic work and getting drunk with my friends. Hopefully, after Thursday most of the heavy work should be done and I’ll be back on track. Regardless, the last film I saw was another Frank Capra film, and it was quite damn good, to keep it short. I’m starting to get more and more impressed with this director, and I have acquired more of his films to watch.

Mr. Smith is a naïve young man who gets through some incompetent and corrupt politicians gets to go to Washington and become a senator. We are given imagery of sickening patriotism, pompous shots of the American flag in all its eternal glory, and discomforting angles of the statue of Lincoln. But all is not well in Washington, and Smith (so extremely well played by the fantastic Jimmy Stewart) soon realizes he is nothing but a puppet, and his illusions of the greatness of democracy are shattered. It is the struggle of one individual man against a system, but not without its fair share of optimism. This is one of my favourite elements of Capra’s cinema, how he juxtaposes the individual to the collective, and optimism in the face of hopelessness. James Stewart does a great job portraying the young naïve senator who has to face up to reality and realize something about himself and the system that he thought he knew. The supporting cast is equally excellent, with the great Claude Rains as the great support to Stewart, but also holds up well by himself. This film also features some very dark moments, but they are throughout illuminated with light of a positive message.

This is also probably, of the Capra films I’ve seen, Capra’s most impressively shot film. The angles are great, every shot has significance, and the cinematography is at times stunning. Particularly the dark moments are properly and well lit, and do give the audience a feeling of desperation. While some viewers have distaste for Capra’s sometimes very positive message, I would just like to say: grow up. While I guess this is a bit of personal taste and subjective opinion, I will still stand by that Capra’s films are incredibly well crafted. While I do enjoy the message of the film, what stands out for me, and is ultimately most important, is the filmmaking craft. Capra has showed through his films that he is a great storyteller, but also a great artist and poet of the filmmaking craft, and his films are beautiful examples of filmmaking, surely some of the highlights of the Hollywood golden era. If you look beyond all the other Hollywood bullshit, you will see in some of the greatest films of the era that there lies a true brilliance in the crafting of these wonderful films, and they are in fact pure cinema, pure filmmaking, with all the other stuff that has to be thrown in there for the audience of the time just being filler. You remove all that, and the films show their wonderful structures, the elegant storytelling and auteur views of the world.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is a great example of the height of the Hollywood golden era, and is a very impressive film by Capra. The beauty lies in the simple shot structures and the emotional drama that is achieved. The later part of the film is pure brilliance, but the beginning of the film is also great. James Stewart never fails, and he delivers everything that is great about him here, and does perhaps one of his greatest roles. What an actor…

It’s a Wonderful Life (Frank Capra, 1946)

I usually try to know as little as possible about films I am going to see, so I see them without any particular expectations or knowledge. With some films though, this is impossible, because they are so much part of pop culture, that you know them almost beat by beat. It’s a Wonderful Life is a victim of this, and because of that I basically knew most of the story of the film. One wonderful surprise that I didn’t know was that the film starred one of my favourite actors, James Stewart. I’ve only seen one film by Frank Capra, It Happened One Night (1934), so I was looking forward to watching this. It’s also one of those classics that everyone should have watched, so it felt necessary to watch it.

The story is very well told and has a very positive message. Some don’t like Capra’s films because they are too positive and upbeat, however, I resent this. It doesn’t in no way hinder the craft of the filmmaking, and people who don’t like films that are upbeat should stop watching films. But I digress, on this film itself, it is a wonderful piece of filmmaking, and James Stewart’s character is so well defined. The structure of the film is that it is a flashback sort of film, where we see the life of the character. It is really nice to see the whole story of the character, how his life turns out and how he develops. This is where Jimmy Stewart shines, his assuredness and honest character has always been one of the great aspects of his acting. He is also great when the character starts to delve into despair. Stewart is accompanied by lots of great supporting actors, particularly Donna Reed as Stewart’s love interest, and Thomas Mitchell as his uncle. As far as I’m aware, the casting in Capra films is always superb, and this shows here. It is very important to have good lead actors; however, having interesting and good supporting actors, even for small parts, can be vital, especially for this kind of film. The cast does a great and variable job, and throughout the film we are given performances that are as good as Jimmy Stewart’s performance. It is also nice to see a younger Stewart, as most films I’ve seen with him were made after he turned 40, and thus featured a fairly old, but still great, James Stewart.

Other aspects of the film are well done, the cinematography looks really nice, and does remind me of It Happened One Night, as well as the editing and story structure is almost perfect. The film also kind of reminds me of Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941), studying in flashbacks the life and development of a man, but of course, there are many differences, but it is still interesting to see the parallels between the films. We are brought to relate to the main character and hope he has a happy ending. While I usually don’t agree to such one-sided characters, Capra handles this really well, and this is supported by the building up of the story. This is seen widely as a Christmas film, however most of the film doesn’t take place during Christmas, but I understand why it is seen as such. Particularly because of the message of helping others and all that jazz, but this sort of thing doesn’t detract from the films quality. The film does move into darker territory later on, and these parts are really good and uncomfortable. This is really where Jimmy Stewart shines, managing to balance the emotions of the character in a really impressive way. This part also contains one of the best close-ups I’ve ever seen in cinema history, with James Stewart turning towards the camera and the background being skewed. The structure of the film does build up expectation of ruin, and this is one of the things that make the film seem interesting throughout. The conclusion is also one of the most wonderful I’ve seen, and gives the audience a feeling of satisfaction.

It’s a Wonderful Life has become one of my favourite films, and is deservedly so a classic. James Stewart gives a fantastic and sympathetic performance, and the supporting cast likewise gives the story depth. There is quite a bit of sub-text running throughout the film, and this gives audiences a reason to re-watch the film over and over again. I actually wasn’t that looking forward to this, but saw it as a film I just had to watch due to it being a classic. But it turned out to be fantastic. I’m definitely going to watch more Frank Capra films.

Forbidden Planet (Fred M. Wilcox,1956)

I am willing to watch out most films, age, country, genre and movement. When I saw the cover for Forbidden Planet, I had to watch it. I am surprised that I haven’t heard much about Forbidden Planet, for to me it seems like a classic. It has many great elements, and I’m not too familiar with 50’s science-fiction films. There are quite a lot of allegories for the cold war, which today seems a bit trite; however, it never becomes an over-burden. This is the kind of film one would thing of as trashy, but the film is well produced and looks very good.

Actually, this is quite a crazy film. One of the highlights, and probably what the film is remembered the most for, is the robot, Robby. Every single line uttered by the robot is pure gold, and very humorous. The film has a very interesting aesthetic; it is very cold and distanced, with a psyched out electronic music track. This gives the film a very unique feel, and this style is kept throughout the film. There isn’t often one sees this kind of aesthetic in Hollywood films of the 50’s, so it was quite an interesting view. A lot of classic Hollywood elements, such as close ups and dramatic music in romantic scenes are omitted. Further, the film takes its time to discuss contemporary issues, such as humans (mis)use of technology, and also dwells into the human psyche. The films dwells into psychoanalysis, which usually isn’t very good for films, as such complicated issues are usually ham-fisted when dealt with, a good example of this is Spellbound (Alfred Hitchcock, 1945). But it doesn’t rely too much on this issue, and the stuff it deals with in psychoanalysis isn’t too deep, so it is fair, however my brain always turns on an alarm when films do this, as it is usually not a good sign.

Many complain about the outdated special effects, however, I feel we shouldn’t be so jaded that we can let outdated special effects get in the way of our appreciation of some wonderful art design. Robby the robot looks absolutely hilarious, but in a very good way, and not in an “Ed Wood” kind of way. The scenery paintings of the planet look great, so does the look of some of the architecture in the film. It’s kind of like 2001: A Space Odyssey (Stanley Kubrick, 1968), which has some of the most beautiful special effects ever made. They may be outdated compared to today’s standards, but the art direction is still wonderful, fantastically unique and beautiful. Besides, why get so carried away about special effects today when we know our kids will be laughing at how horrible today’s films look anyway. So the film, adopting a unique aesthetic is also very visually pleasing, and it never seems as if it is doing it just for the sake of the special effects, unlike so many films made today. The films structure is also good, if adequate; however, the middle part is stretched out a bit too much, while the later part is done to quickly. The film could easily have solved this by being something like 15 minutes longer; however, my guess is that production costs got in the way. It’s not a big draw though.

Forbidden Planet is a wonderful film, in so many ways. The inspired art direction, the wonderful scripts, the unique aesthetic style, and of course the quirky electronic soundtrack. It all fits neatly together, and is overall one of the more enjoyable science-fiction films I’ve seen from this period of cinema. Some may criticize the acting; however, I wouldn’t dwell on it. It works sufficiently, and is proper to the style the film has. I haven’t heard much about this film, but it is a great watch and recommended for all film buffs.

Burn After Reading (Joel & Ethan Coen, 2008)

The Coen brothers turned out one of the best films from American cinema this decade last year, and possibly their best film, No Contry for Old Men of course. So now, just a meagre year later, they have another film ready for the cinema. Throughout their career they have had a tendency to make a slightly more silly film after their serious film. This is apparent here as well, as No Country for Old Men was quite a thoughtful and serious film, with the slight cameo of the Coen’s own brand of dark humour.

In Burn After Reading this dark humour is the core part of the film, and for what it is worth, it is probably the Coen’s best straight comedy in quite a while. The film is filled with dark and almost nihilistic. The characters are simply all idiots, not likable, and generally self-centred. But this works quite nicely, because it creates a nice little unique Coen world, where the rules are somewhat bended compared to the “real world”. The cast is also fairly vast, featuring George Clooney, John Malkovich, Brad Pitt, Richard Jenkins, and of course the wonderful Frances McDormand, who was great in Fargo (Joel Coen, 1996). They all do an adequate job, but I thought George Clooney was one of the better ones, creating a very strange character, but the team of McDormand and Pitt was also very funny, and an inspired pairing. The main point of the film is that all the characters are after something, however no one has any idea of what the hell is going on. Characters are misled, they believe things that aren’t true, usually because of their own idiocy or misjudgement, and in the end nothing really resolves. It is a film that was made just for good fun, and I thought it worked quite well at that, the humour is at time sublime, however, as a piece of filmmaking one cannot deny that it comes well short of No Country for Old Men. The story is interesting though, the characters are quirky and fun, and the structure of the film keeps one interested throughout.

I’m looking forward to seeing what more the Coen’s can come up with. They had quite a spell where most their films were quite sub-par, but with these recent two they seem to be back on track. Well see what kind of film their next will be, but I sort of doubt that they will in the foreseeable future make a film that tops No Country for Old Men. Back to the film itself, it will never become a true Coen classic, it doesn’t have quite the darkness and cleverness of Fargo, nor is it as funny as The Big Lebowski (Joel Coen, 1998). It is a nice and quirky little piece of comedy that probably will stay as one of those Coen films like The Hudsucker Proxy (Joel Coen, 1994). The Coen’s are in this way similar to Woody Allen, coming up with new films almost every year and have had quite a quality curve. One thing I like about Burn After Reading which I usually wouldn’t like in films is that the characters have minimal development, and don’t really learn anything. This is due to their exceeding stupidity. A lot of people hated Burn After Reading, calling it perhaps the worst Coen film. I don’t agree with this though, the dark humour works well, several times I laughed, several times I laughed a lot. The ending was also fantastic, and punctuated the film in a great way. I thing the reason why someone might not enjoy the film is because they will be quite detached from the characters. But I like the detachment, because it works well with the dark humour and ridiculing of the characters.

All in all, I enjoyed Burn After Reading. It is an enjoyable comedy, but not a great piece of filmmaking. It’s a good outing from the Coen’s, but I think we will see better films than this to come from them in the years.

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (John Ford, 1962)

Westerns often discuss the same thing. They look at the relationship between the Wild West and the approaching civilization of law and order. The Searchers (John Ford, 1956) did something similar to this, and it featured western legend John Wayne. The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance also has John Wayne, although in not such a big part. The main protagonist is played by maybe one of my favourite actors of all time, James Stewart, who to me became a legend in the Hitchcock films he did. Some claim that he was miscast as the character is supposed to be a young lawyer right out of university, while Stewart at the time was over 50 years old. However, he fills the role with such grace and his undeniable strength of character that I can’t imagine anyone doing it better. I’m not quite on the level with the morals and what the film is trying to say, however, unlike before, I won’t let this influence my perception of the films quality.

Again, I’m looking into these old Hollywood films, and this is one of the late classics of the golden years of Hollywood. While some of the films made previously by John Ford were in colour, this is in black and white. The cinematography was very nice, creating the strong and tense atmosphere in the small city. Much like Howard Hawks who I previously talked about, John Ford’s directing here is very tight and slightly distanced from the events on the screen. Ford has also put some limits on the use of music of the film, avoiding the very heavy scores Hollywood films used to use, although I at times usually loves them. The most spectacular aspects of John Ford’s films are his wonderful wide shots of the wilderness of the west, and there are several of these shots in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, although not as many as one would like, or as there were in The Searchers. But, it’s adequate, and leaves room for more interpretive drama, which is one of the strongest points about this film. Another strong point about the film, which is supported by the first point, is the interesting conflict between James Stewart’s character and John Wayne’s character. While they are not direct enemies, they both have different philosophical points of views and looks on the world. This philosophical debate between the two characters creates much of the drama in the film, and builds up the challenges that James Stewart’s character has to face. While westerns often discuss this issue, the Wild West versus law and order, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is probably the best example and execution of this debate, and creates serious questions about how to act in society, which doesn’t reveal what is right or wrong, but asks the audience to question these issues themselves.

Moral dramas are interesting, but often become tenuous because too much stuff is gutted down the audiences throats. This is not done to too much of a degree in this film, and there is a good degree of personal interior drama, and mixes this with the philosophical drama of the two main characters. I love James Stewart, and he is great in this. But a lot of credit should also be given to John Wayne, who does the best role I’ve seen by him. Stewart is great at bringing naivety and a strong belief to the film, while Wayne brings his assuredness and physical presence. When the two characters clash, it works out as a great combination, and John Wayne creates a great cockiness towards Stewart’s character. But, John Wayne probably brings us the best scene in the film, alone, late in the film when he has an outburst. This is one of the best moments of a interior outburst that has ever been brought to the screen, and John Wayne brings so much emotion to it, showing a man who once was very self confident loosing his head and feeling lost. Of course, this is assisted by John Ford’s great directing, which escalates the scene. I’ve not seen many of John Ford’s films, and I’m not a great fan of westerns, but this is the best film I’ve seen by John Ford and the best western I’ve seen. As said, I was also very much impressed by John Wayne, who I’ve never given much credit, you can always see in stores cheap DVD boxes with 4 or many more John Wayne westerns, and I’m sure that for the very low prices they go for, they are quiet crummy. But while John Wayne was way too typecast throughout his career, his performance in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance really shows what a great presence he could be to a film and what kind of interesting and multileveled characters he could create.

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance is continuing to make me more and more excited about old Hollywood films. I’ve said it before, I have been sceptical of these kinds of films, but lately I’ve really began to discover some of the greats of classical Hollywood, and this film fills the rooster. It is a great film and remarkable piece of cinema. I am going to continue exploring more and more of these wonderful films, and I am continuously being fascinated by them. All hail the golden era of Hollywood!

Scarface (Howard Hawks, 1932)

Howard Hawks is a director I’m starting to find more and more fascinating. Compared to many other Hollywood directors or films from the times, Hawks seem almost like a minimalist. He doesn’t use too much music, uses a lot of long and wide shots, and few cuts, especially avoiding close-ups and shot-reverse-shots. I watched the remake of Scarface featuring Al Pacino, and liked it at the time, but in retro perspective hasn’t remained much with me. So I was quite excited about watching this one.

Also compared to most Hollywood films I’ve seen from this period, Scarface is quite brutal and violent. The film throughout escalates into violence, shooting and killing. It is refreshing to see this kind of film from the early days of cinema. It is also quite astounding that the film had such great quality in cinematography and sound despite the fact that it was made all the way back in 1932. After silent movies disappeared in Hollywood, the quality of the films dropped, due to the limits of the sound recording equipment at the time. Scarface though shows that the technology has started to manage to improve the quality to allow good filmmaking not worrying about the sound recording. Hawks manages to create a strange relationship between the audience and the main character, while he is a murderer, beats his sister and is generally a bastard; one still is swayed to empathise with him, and his struggle to rise above his superiors. The ending is also quite astounding, mixing many different emotions, and the lead character’s insanity rose to a manic height.

But, Hawk’s great directing also distances the audience from the action on screen. The long takes, the wide shots and few close-ups leaves us at a distance, not allowing the audience to become too close to the characters. But there is still a feeling of sadness throughout the film, and coldness to the business of the gangsters. In the beginning of the film there is a title card which is talking about how horrible the gangsters are and that it is up the people and the government to clean the streets of criminals. This gives the film a bit of a political context, which is something I usually don’t enjoy; however, this doesn’t become too apparent throughout the rest of the film. Also there should be given some credit to the star of the film Paul Muni, who plays the lead character, Tony. He portrays the coldness of the gangster, never flinching nor being scared of the thought of killing, did often almost seeming excited about it. This adds greatly upon Hawks cold and detached directing.

I really liked Scarface; it’s a great exploration of the gangster environment, as well as Hawks great directing and the performance of Paul Muni. I think this is the best film I’ve seen by Howard Hawk, and I am really enjoying exploring these old black & white Hollywood films, and Hawks is a director I am certainly going to explore further. I still prefer John Huston slightly, but Hawks is impressing me more and more through the films I see by him.