Weekly Top Ten: Ingmar Bergman

I don’t want to get into the habit of just doing directors top ten lists, but for now let’s just keep it simple. Ingmar Bergman is probably one of the most iconic film directors who appeared during the rise of European art cinema in the 1950s. Although he had been working quite a lot before that, this was truly the period where he emerged as one of the forces of deeply personal and profound films. For me, personally, he was one of the first European filmmakers I started to explore, and therefore has quite a bit of significance on me and my sensibility when watching films.

10. Tystnaden (1963)
Controversial at its release, Tystnaden was the last of Bergman’s informal faith trilogy. Somehow, I always felt that the film lacked some of the crucial elements that are usually part of Bergman’s cinema. Still, the way he builds up the tension and the strict camera discipline is at times harrowing. It doesn’t evoke some of the issues one is used to in Bergman, but it has a quintessential European “feel”, much like L’Avventura and La Dolce Vita.

9. Fanny och Alexander (1982) Well, I had to add the movie that introduced me to Bergman in the first place. While Bergman always has been a deeply personal filmmaker, I feel this is his most personal film. It has a strong nostalgic feel to it, and much of the events are taken right out of his childhood. The cinematography is as beautiful as colour cinematography gets, and some of the sequences are wonderfully hypnotic.

8. Det Syvende Inseglet (1957)
While at the time of making Det Syvende Inseglet Bergman was already quite famous in Sweden and had made some films that were hailed in Europe, this is without doubt the film that threw him into the international scene, and made him one of the most important contemporary filmmakers in Europe. The medieval setting is properly apocalyptic, and with a great group performance from the cast of Bergman regulars, the film stands as one of the greatest classics of European cinema.

7. Nattvardsgästerna (1962)
This is a quiet little film, at least on the outside. But the internal hell and struggle that the protagonist goes through is at times overwhelming. Gunnar Björnstrand is fantastic as the priest who has lost faith in a higher being, and is well supported by the actors around him, as well as a great little part from Max von Sydow. But what makes this film truly great is the focused cinematography which with its minimalistic style manages to create as much emotion as possible, through some very subtle camerawork.

6. Vargtimmen (1968)
Probably Bergman’s most isolated and paranoid film, Vargtimmen is a visual nightmare like few other films can achieve. The claustrophobic setting and cinematography builds up the internal terror that the characters experience. It is both a strange and scary experience to watch. While I feel it lacks some of the usual subtlety and themes that Bergman explores, the film stands high for its extremely effective use of its visual medium as a nightmare.

5. Såsom i en spegel (1961)
The use of barque music in this chamber film is excellent, and adds to the isolation and mental turmoil that the characters go through. The most interesting aspect of the film is the sexual tension between the brother and sister characters, which towards the end of the film increase into unbearable heights.

4. Sommarnattens leende (1953)
A much underrated gem by Bergman, Sommarnattens leende was his first success abroad, although it didn’t bring him into the spotlight like Det Syvende Inseglet did. The film is a subtle comedy piece with some wonderful acting and delightfully witty script. So it is a much more enjoyable film in the classic sense when considering Bergman films, and that is why I love this film, the pure joy of it. The ending is fantastic.

3. Persona (1966)
Perhaps Bergman’s most difficult film, Persona is one of the finest masterpieces within abstract cinema. Calling Persona abstract is perhaps wrong, in a sense, but it is without doubt the film he made with the most radical and innovative narrative form. The intense emotions which so often are the greatest element in Bergman’s films is at times destructive in this film and the play between the two actresses are absolutely fantastic, walking a fine line between fascination and repulsion.

2. Viskningar och Rop (1972)
Destruction in the eye of the beholder. Blood and disturbing sexual desire. Few words can describe the emotional breakdown and writhing pain one has to suffer when watching this film. Brilliant cinematography in every sense of the word and a hypnotic and tense atmosphere. Enough said.


1. Smultronstället (1957)
I love Smutronstället, it is one of my favourite films of all time. Despite its relative short running time, the film contains everything that cinema could encompass. A road trip movie, the film allows itself a lot of time and space to explore different areas of the protagonist’s life and the unfolding of his previous deeds builds up our understanding of the character wonderfully. There are also some great moments with hitchhikers which further allow the film to unfold unto different themes and ideas. The ending is very uplifting, and brings both the character and narrative to a brilliant conclusion. This film enters into the exclusive group of a few films which I have seen three times in a row, without any break.

All I Desire (Douglas Sirk, 1953)

This was a weird one, neat though, but I felt that some of the narrative structure was confused, and the film meandered between the poignant and the weak story-plot. Actually, this film doesn’t have any specific outstanding qualities, but still, it isn’t too bad, it’s just good, but not particularly so. It is actually a bit hard to explain, there are a lot of shifting emotions in this film, but it never really worked, truly.

Usually, I bash colour and praise black and white cinematography. But when it comes to Douglas Sirk, I prefer his colour films, because they usually are aesthetically beautiful and the cinematography has some real depth. This film is in black and white, and while the cinematography looks quite good, I do wish this was in colour rather than in black and white, because I know it would have added some great quality to the film. On the story itself, it has a lot of quality and possible depth, but I felt a lot of it was too unexplored. A middle-aged burlesque dance returns to her home town, a little village in the outskirts of America, where she has left her children and husband. Of course, this brings a lot of emotions and her past back to her, and she has to face up to what she escaped from. I was disappointed, because the message of the film seems to be that the small town life is better than the life of the city, which I am a bit opposed to, although the film has its share of criticism on the hypocrisy of these small towns. Of course, it can be read that the film rather says that the most important thing is unity and family, but then again, it is overshadowed and left somewhat open, which I don’t think is the best thing for this film.

The film escapes complexity, which is quite disappointing, but it does remain poignant and is a good case of an early Sirk melodrama. Within this context there is a lot that works in the film, and Sirk manages to get quite a bit of emotions out of the narrative, particularly towards the end of the movie. What I guess I am missing is a bit of that cutting edge such as in All That Heaven Allows, as well as the awesome use of colour that he now is famous for. In many ways, Sirk is very easy to compare to Max Ophüls, much because of their similar background and reasoning for coming to Hollywood. But while Ophüls was a maestro of the moving camera, Douglas Sirk was the master of the colour. Both have wonderful cinematography with depth almost untouchable, but while Ophüls films are absolutely stunning in black and white, this works somewhat against Sirk, and especially in this. You can still tell he is an excellent storyteller from the camerawork that he utilizes here, but it is quite limited and I wish I was rather watching a Sirk film in colour. Still, though, it all works well, and while there seems to be some lacking narrative, the emotions of the characters are well developed and manage to convey exactly what is going on within the characters.

Perhaps not the extravaganza that other Sirk melodrama’s are, this film still works on an emotional level, and one wouldn’t be ill-advised to watch it. However, maybe not the essential Sirk film, and while it was more serious in tone and had more developed themes, I still enjoyed Has Anyone Seen My Gal? quite a bit more.

Has Anybody Seen My Gal? (Douglas Sirk, 1952)

Now I’m going to start a run of reviews, six to be exact, on films by Douglas Sirk. I have a box with seven of his films; the only one I had seen was All That Heaven Allows. Recently, I watched all remaining six films within a single day, to say the least, I was hooked. I watched them chronologically; the first one in line was Has Anybody Seen My Gal?

This film is a bit different from the normal films that Sirk made. It is not a melodrama, but rather a light screwball comedy. The usual extravagant cinematography that we usually find in his film is neither present, so a lot of what has made Sirk famous is not featured in this film. So, it isn’t the treat that Sirk usually serves us, but, actually, it is still quite worthwhile watching. It is a very charming little story and enjoyable to watch. What is more, I could sense the early development of Sirk’s own use of self-referential subtext and subtle sarcasm, which is also one of his trademarks. An old man who is rich and bitter and dying, decides to go visit the family of his old flame, who chose to marry someone else over him. Since he has no family, he is contemplating giving them his money when he dies, but he first has to check them out to see if they are worthy, and he does so in secret, saying he is a lodger and living with them. He then sends them a check worth quite a lot of money, but not close to the amount they might receive in inheritance, but substantial enough so he can observe how they react and how they spend the money. And so the narrative goes on from this point.

Essentially, this is a comedy, but it does carry a subtext and message. There are also, actually, some musical numbers, although the film cannot be called a musical. These musical numbers are quite interesting and funny as well. In the first one, teenagers are dancing and singing, as if in a musical. The grumpy old man comes to the scene, and starts complaining about the singing. Although not as strong as in later films, this film does have a specific self-awareness, which is one of the things I like most about the directors Douglas Sirk and Max Ophüls Hollywood output. It does add another level of meaning and deeper context to the films, and they also manage to stay startlingly fresh compared to many other genre films of the times. Still, this film doesn’t emulate that same sense of depth, although it does point towards such moments at various times. There is also the anti-materialistic attitude there that Sirk would come back to later, as well as exploring the life and morals of the upper-class. In of itself, the film is quite enjoyable, the humour is funny and broad, the actors are wonderful, particularly the lead, played very well by Charles Coburn as the aging millionaire. The film doesn’t dwell deeply on its issues, but it does touch upon them, and therefore manages to remain somewhat more interesting than it contemporaries.

A funny and enjoyable film in its own right, this is perhaps not exactly the height of Douglas Sirk, but it did lure me softly into watching the rest of his films, although it didn’t prepare me for the rest. It is perhaps a bit mean to say that this is the worst film I’ve seen by Douglas Sirk, and it is, but it is still very enjoyable and I would say worth a watch. Douglas Sirk shows early signal of some quite interesting subversive directing that few in Hollywood could match, or indeed understand.

Weekly Top Ten: Hitchcock

Ok, so I’m trying out something new here to mix up the usual reviews I usually write, I am also going to try to write more general articles as well. Anyway, for now, I’m starting the Weekly Top Ten, every week on Wednesdays. For kick off I’ll start today, on a Tuesday, but otherwise I’ll try to make it on Wednesday. The top ten will relate to a ranking of anything having to do with film, and to start off, I’ll do my top ten favourite Hitchcock films. Yeah, I know lists don’t mean anything, but they are fun to write, and I find that reading other people’s top something or other lists have led me to discover interesting films and directors, so hopefully I can do the same to others. Anyway, the top ten Hitchcock films:


10. The Lady Vanishes (1938)
Okay, so I just reviewed this one, but it was pretty damn good and a genuine surprise. Good performances, particularly from the comedic British duo obsessed about cricket, a suspenseful plot, some truly uncanny moments and loads of light humour to make the film all the more enjoyable. Lacks a bit of the depth of Hitchcock, but otherwise a perfect film of this type.

9. Strangers on a Train (1951)
Actually a truly disturbing story with some superb performances, particularly from the “stranger”, but overall very well cast. The pacing and building up of the story is the highlight for me, as well as the brilliantly edited climax, and otherwise the establishment of the relationship between the two characters.

8. The Wrong Man (1956)
A somewhat unusual, and absurdly underrated, Hitchcock film. The cinematography is gritty and feels realistic, and the story is, apparently, based on reality. Still, the theme of a man wrongly accused or falling into a scheme he had nothing to do with is as ever present here as in many other Hitchcock films. Also great performance by Henry Fonda.

7. Psycho (1960)
This classic has been parodied so many times, that many modern viewers can watch it for the first time and still find it familiar. This only shows the everlasting effect of the horror masterpiece that can arguably be called Hitchcock’s last great classic, although I do like some of his later films. Still, going back to black and white and basically re-energizing the horror genre is a great feat from the master of suspense, and this is probably the closest he got to “pure horror”.

6. Rear Window (1954)
Jimmy Stewart and Grace Kelly just look great together on screen, and this is a fine example of cinema studying the act of looking, or basically itself. The obsessive voyeurism of the main character is fascinating, and for a film that takes place simply in an apartment block again shows how well Hitchcock slowly and steadily can build up the narrative and pacing of the film. Only grudge is that I was a bit disappointed by the ending, but otherwise this is spot on.

5. Shadow of a Doubt (1943)
Bad things don’t happen in small town, do they? Well, according to Hitchcock they definitely do, and this is allegedly his favourite film of the ones he made. The dark rising atmosphere of the city is built up to superb effect, as is the somewhat disturbing oedipal relationship between the two main characters. For the first time, truly, did Hitchcock get into the gritty stuff.

4. North by Northwest (1959)
This is perhaps a guilty pleasure, but damn it, this is perhaps Hitchcock’s most enjoyable film in terms of entertainment. Everything is perfect in this sense, the pacing, the narrative, and the fantastic exiting score, and some wonderful set-pieces, such as the scene out at the crops. Great performance from Cary Grant as the unlucky guy who gets caught up in a scheme he never had anything to do with and some of Hitchcock’s most suspenseful moments.

3. Rebecca (1940)
I don’t know, somehow I feel this one is underrated, but I sure do love it. This gothic “woman’s film” has great and sinister set design and cinematography, and characters are very memorable, although, ironically, the most memorable character was Rebecca, even though she never appears physically. Hitchcock’s first American film, it was an immediate success.

2. Notorious (1946)
I just love this film: Cary Grant as the secret agent, Ingrid Bergman as the beautiful love interest, Claude Rains as the bad guy, and Brazil as the setting. Nothing could wrong with this film, really. Though all these great elements, what is most memorable for me in this one is the brilliant use of the camera, the wonderful building of tension, and the almost violent and repulsive relationship between Bergman and Grant.

1. Vertigo (1958)
It was hard for me, really, to pick the #1 spot on this list, but in the end, it had to be Vertigo. Perhaps James Stewart’s best and most disturbing performance, as well as some beautiful colour cinematography and a haunting score this film surfaces, for me anyway, as Hitchcock’s most profound and disturbing film. Some of the stuff he does is brilliant, and Jimmy Stewart’s character’s obsession with the figure Madeleine is uniquely explored here. The camera work is at its best, particularly the early and later stages of the film are riveting.

To Catch a Thief (Alfred Hitchcock, 1955)

This one I hadn’t heard much about, which was strange because it is from the period when Hitchcock was at his very best and it stars two of the most famous actors of the time, Grace Kelly and Cary Grant. Then I watched, and I was still confused, because it actually wasn’t that bad, indeed, it was quite good, and I’m surprised this doesn’t get mentioned more often.

Cary Grant is a retired jewel thief, but when someone starts stealing jewels in the same manner as he used to, and the police suspect him, he has to take action and catch the thief. So it’s the standard wrong man accused story, which, I guess, is nothing special by now, and Hitchcock certainly did it better in North by Northwest. What is a bit unfortunate, though, is that what I remember best about this film is its setting, which isn’t always a good thing. It is set in the South of France during summer, and it does look beautiful indeed. The film is an extravaganza in set and costume design, and I felt that these elements took a bit too much of the spotlight for the film to work strongly as a narrative. It is a fun film to watch though, and while not as clever as most Hitchcock films, it certainly is entertaining. The colour cinematography is beautiful, and the setting puts us right in the mood of the moment, although I did wish I was actually there, rather than watching the film. I did think Cary Grant was a bit unconvincing as the retired jewel thief, I always thought that when he acted in serious films that he was better as a slick guy like in Notorious, rather than some roof climbing burglar. Grace Kelly is at her most beautiful best, and really illuminates the film with her presence. Sadly, it would be her last with Hitchcock.

The film, despite its obvious lack of subtlety or depth, is still a lot of fun, much owing to the humorous tone it keeps throughout the narrative, with a particularly deflating and funny ending line. While Cary Grant isn’t convincing in the role itself, he does have the natural charisma and acting skills to be enjoyable to watch, although it really isn’t a performance to be remembered as his best. Grace Kelly is better, then, putting a lot of energy into her role and generally adding a bit of spice to the film. There are some great cinematic moments, particularly the ecstatic kissing scene between Grace Kelly and Cary Grant during the fireworks. The film is more slick than clever, and it was a big hit in its time, which makes sense to me. It also has a lot of the usual Hitchcock moments and quirks, so it avoids being just another Hollywood film and a quintessential Hitchcock film, although not a particularly strong one. The flair is there, it just isn’t as deep or profound as Hitchcock usually does it. What is good, though, is that the film emulates a sense of enjoyment. While it probably wasn’t his most committed effort, I am pretty damn sure he had a fun time making this film, and I did have a fun time watching it. I am still surprised that it hasn’t received that much recognition amongst the fans, even though it isn’t as good as his best efforts; it is still a good and enjoyable film. Maybe it was just quietly forgotten, I don’t know really.

Not fantastic, but not bad at all. Very enjoyable to watch, and while it might not give me the same amount of excitation as I usually get from watching Hitchcock films, it still managed to keep me interested, and the beautiful setting, as well as Grace Kelly, kept me interested and intrigued throughout the course of the narrative.

The Lady Vanishes (Alfred Hitchcock, 1938)

I guess I’ve seen about 20 or more Hitchcock films now, but still there is something to get from this guy, although I might be scraping the bottom of the barrel. The Lady Vanishes was one of his British films, before he decided to go to America. The film therefore has a different feel to it than his Hollywood productions, particularly those of the 50’s. What is interesting, though, is that we can already see in this early film, elements which would become very prominent later in his career, and hailed as hallmarks of his cinema.

The film has a very “British” sense of humour, my two favourite characters in the film are two Englishmen who constantly talk about cricket and how they have to get in time home for the big cricket tournament. Most of the film takes place on a train, and Hitchcock does well to keep the film interesting despite the limited space he can tell his story in. The narrative is about a woman who vanishes, as the title says. It is actually quite disturbing when she does disappear, and a strange sense of the uncanny and questioning one’s self mind come to the fore. It is a thriller, though, in typical Hitchcock style, with all the recognizable narrative ploys he usually uses, for example having a conversation while eating, or the classic romance. What made this one stand out a bit more than the rest of his films that I have seen is the focus on the comedy, which there is a lot more of here than usual. All of Hitchcock’s films have quite a bit of humour, but it is usually subtle or just for short moments. Here, though, it takes centre stage and is a big part of what the film is. I also found the interplay between the two romantic leads very good and playful, although the acting is never anything spectacular in itself, at least not on the level such as It Happened One Night.

I did think though that the film lacked a bit of the depth that Hitchcock’s films usually have. Not to say that the film isn’t subtle, because it is quite subtle at times, and explores some interesting themes on denial psychology. What the film misses, most crucially, is the cutting edge in narrative that some of Hitchcock’s later films such as Vertigo, Rebecca, Notorious, Rear Window, and to a lesser extent, North by Northwest had. Still, the film works wonderfully in its own way, and is still high above the average of similar films from that time period. The 1930’s are a difficult era in film to analyse, because the move from silent to sound put the films technologically back a couple of years, and one can see the raw crudities in some of the early 30’s films. In The Lady Vanishes, however, there is little sign to this, and the sound design is also quite impressive for its time. Watching this makes me a bit nostalgic; as I feel I am starting to draw dry the amount of good films that Hitchcock still has to offer. That I have seen well over 20 of his films, though, and still being able to look for more material he directed, only stands as a testament to his immense quality and consistency as a director. Sure, there were a couple of stinkers, but overall the amount of quality films he has put out is nothing short of impressive.

There are always re-evaluations of directors. Recently I have felt that many have started to vindicate Hitchcock to be not all he was made out to be, much like Citizen Kane. Of course, though, Hitchcock is one of the finest directors of all time, he made some fantastic, deep and entertaining classics, and some of the best camerawork and sound design you will ever see or hear. This one was good, and while a classic, not quite up to speed with his very best. Not as if that says much.

Stalag 17 (Billy Wilder, 1953)

Stalag 17 is another film by Billy Wilder which was made just two years after Ace in the Hole. Strangely, though, the film has a vastly different feel and atmosphere to it than Ace in the Hole. It is on a much lighter note, and can be billed almost as a comedy. This actually is quite perplexing, as this film is set in a Nazi POW camp during the Second World War. But hey, this is another genius stroke from Wilder, as the film mixes dark drama with light humour to great effect, and creates a film that is visually intriguing and always keeps the audience interested in the story.

The film follows a group of sergeants who live together in a barracks in the POW camp. They always attempt to scheme their way out of the camp, but whatever they try, the German guards are always a step ahead, thwarting all of their attempts. So, of course, they realize that someone amidst their group has to be selling the information to the Germans. The man everyone suspects is the cynical loner J.J. Sefton, played by William Holden with gusto. While the narrative then unfolds with this as its pretext, there is a lot more to this film than just the narrative. It is also a slice of life of the prisoners, and this area of the film is the comedy part. The interaction between the prisoners and the Germans are priceless, especially the way they know each other exactly. The Germans know that the Americans are trying to escape, and the Americans openly admit so, and in a way it becomes a compromise between the two factions. One of the best things about Billy Wilder films is how they blend humour and drama. I thought this worked at its very best in The Apartment, but it works very well here also. The comedy is a bit broader, and the contrast is a bit stronger, but it still works wonders, my favourite parts where the Sergeant nicknamed Animal’s obsession with Betty Grable throughout the film.

I thing the humour has a very important role in this film. The prisoners are constantly depressed about their situation and the meagre living conditions, but the humour keeps the spirit up, otherwise the film might have been too dark. So, in many ways, the film offers some of the best from two different worlds: wonderful broad humour and some wonderful visual storytelling when the William Holden character tries to find out who the traitor is. The films’ ending is also properly thrilling and satisfying. William Holden is great as the cynical outsider, trying to do the best with the situation he is stuck in. Like the films tone, the cinematography drifts between the light and the gritty, and some of the shots of William Holden contemplating look great, capturing his isolated nature perfectly and creating a sense of paranoia around him. Some might suggest that the mixture of World War Two and broad humour might be a tad bit tacky, but I don’t think so. It is simply a working-through, a way to handle the situation they are in psychologically. The film also handles it subject with a sense of grace and the respect it deserves, so it avoids just being stupid, a trap too many films fall into, especially today (e.g. Saving Private Ryan). But what this film has, which is featured in the best of Wilder’s films, is a penetrating gaze at the human subject and condition, vindicating our very nature and yet having a laugh at it.

Great film, again, from Billy Wilder. Not his best, but that is quite hard to achieve, and this stands as a wonderful classic of that great age of cinema. The casting is almost always perfect in Wilder films, and this is no different, with special remarks to William Holden’s performance, as well as the visual narrative parts and the slapstick parts. Wonderful experience.

Ace in the Hole (Billy Wilder, 1951)

Billy Wilder is perhaps one of the very best classic Hollywood directors, known for his stylistic dialogue and clever plots. His films are also darker than the usual thing you’ll find in Hollywood, particularly his film Sunset Blvd. I discovered this film when I found out that it was available as a criterion release, and even though I didn’t know much about it, I had to have it. It also stars one of my favourite actors of the era, Kirk Douglas, who I recently saw in Out of the Past and he was brilliant in Paths of Glory.

In this film, Kirk Douglas plays a reporter who is on the low point of his career, and seeks a job as a writer for a small newspaper in a town in the outskirts. Hoping to get his breaking story, he idly waits for it at his new job. A whole year goes by, with nothing spectacular happening and nothing relevant to report, he starts to grow frustrated. One day, on a mission for the newspaper, he comes by an old mine where a man is trapped deep down. He sees an opportunity for a human interests scoop, and quickly starts capitalizing on the emotions of the reader, and starts the rescue of the man. The rest of the film details how the protagonist, Tatum, covers the story and his control of all the events surrounding it. I think this film is perhaps Kirk Douglas’ best performance, even better than in Paths of Glory. He is a cynical business man type, who knows everything about the workings of news and how to utilize the media to its fullest. This is also, actually, one of Billy Wilder’s best efforts, the black and white cinematography of the barren desert is fantastic, and the way he continues to drive the narrative forward is excellent. But also, the film is very different from anything I have seen from Hollywood, it stands as a strong contrast to the classic story, and takes its own unique path, something that makes it one of the films of the time that stands out.

The film is a scathing indictment of the media and its potential to trick people and capitalize on their emotions. For its time, it is truly innovative, and it is kind of scary to see that it actually is worse today than before. The place where the man gets trapped becomes a tourist attraction, and Tatum’s handling of the situation is as brilliant as it is frightening. As the tourist attraction grows, the circus also comes, and it creates a great symbol for the media and the press. This is probably Billy Wilder’s darkest and most negative film, showing the greed of Tatum manifest itself in the community and people that he influences. Particularly the wife of the guy stuck in the mine is a very negative character, and unlike most Hollywood films of the time, here there is no redemption. There is a bit of subtle humour in there as well, and the film does work as a comedy in much the same manner as say Dr. Strangelove, but this is actually darker and more sinister. It is a film that is angry, and it sneers at humanity, as well as aptly point out our mistakes and foils. That is why, for me, the film left a strong emotional impact, and stands above most of Hollywood of the time. Its intelligence, the wry and sharp script, and the great performance by Kirk Douglas makes this film stand a whole bunch above the rest of the crop.

One of the finest by Billy Wilder, this might though not be for everyone’s tastes as it is a much more dark and sarcastic film than most from the time, and people who just want to be nostalgic or have a good laugh with a Hollywood classic might not like this film for its grittiness. However, I can do nothing but heap praise on this film, as it stands out as one of the finest of its time period, and in fact, it hasn’t aged in the slightest.

Out of the Past (Jacques Tourneur, 1947)

This is it, the classic of classics, one of the defining films of the noir genre, Out of the Past brought Robert Mitchum to fame and brought about the noir genre, dark thrillers where people smoked ridiculous amounts of cigarettes and the femme fatale characters started to come to fruition. Out of the Past doesn’t disappoint as a classic, and reeks wonderfully of dark atmosphere, complicated plot and cynicism.

The film has the archetypal protagonist, a tough talking who is in trouble of some sorts, as well as the two love interests, the nice blonde girl and the femme fatale. Although I haven’t seen any films with Robert Mitchum before, his fame preceded him and I knew quite a bit about him before I saw this. He is, of course, perfect for the role, and helps create the atmosphere of the film. But my favourite character, though, is the villain, played by Kirk Douglas. He is perfect as the sly gentleman like villain who seems as if he will stop at nothing, and while he doesn’t really do much himself, one can always feel his pressing invisible presence, and creates a great role of paranoia and fear. The gritty cinematography is iconic, and it creates a very dense atmosphere that shows the viewer the situation that the character is in. While the protagonist is no saint, he is still very much a character one can identify with, or rather, warm to. This is one of my favourite aspects of the noir genre, because the heroes are usually anti-heroes, and therefore creates an interesting conflict into the persona of the character, very different from the normal Hollywood film of the time. These films explore more deeply the darker side of human nature, and in many ways are more interesting for their somewhat different character development, which rockets their characters through some though struggles.

The ending of the film is also great, and the whole film truly spends a lot of time exploring Mitchum’s character. The ending brings it all together and consolidates his character within a frame, giving us the whole picture of what he and the film were about. I usually find noir films very satisfying to watch, and this was no different. I do love the noir genre, and it therefore becomes quite hard to criticize it. Because Out of the Past is the archetype for noir film, it is really hard to criticize it without criticizing the noir genre. In this way, one could say that Out of the Past is the perfect noir, for better or worse. I might be quite biased here, because of my interest in the noir genre; I also love the look 40’s, which creates a certain nostalgic feeling in me. Not that I ever lived in the 40’s, but I still yearn to, everything about that era is amazing. Well, except the war an all that... Anyway, I’ve seen quite a few noir films, but I think this might be the most impressive of them all, because of the great atmosphere, the plot, and of course the great performances from Robert Mitchum and Kirk Douglas. The mix of the innocent town setting and the dark cityscape is also very intriguing, and creates some very nice contrasts, which has big significance on the characters psyche.

If you want to get into noir, this is perhaps the essential place to start. Everything about this film screams style and class, and it is an archetype for what the noir genre would become known for, particularly the femme fatale character is great, and adds a lot of conflicting emotions in the protagonist. Also see it for Kirk Douglas’ performance.

Arsenic and Old Lace (Frank Capra, 1944)

So, after two fairly disappointing outputs by Capra, I watched this comedy classic, and what a laugh it turned out to be. It is based on a famous play by the same name, but I wasn’t familiar with the story, so I didn’t know what I was in for. Safe to say, this was probably one of the sharpest and funniest comedies I have seen from Capra or classic Hollywood even.

So, I’m not going to bother with spoiling too much of the story, as it is quite a joy to watch unfold and therefore I could ruin anyone’s potential viewing of the film. The protagonist is Cary Grant, and he is hilarious in this. The film uses a lot of physical and slapstick humour, and this works well with Cary Grant’s range, which allows him to go to ridiculous lengths to be funny, but never enough over the top to make it idiotic, and that’s quite a skill. The whole cast is great, though, and especially Peter Lorre is fantastically funny in this, with his thin creepy voice. Now, I’ve talked a lot about the depth in Capra films, and well, this film doesn’t really have much of that. But it makes up for it with the superb wit and sharpness in humour. It’s just a very enjoyable film, and takes full advantage of the script to superb effect. Incidentally, because the film is based on a play, there is only one location, really, and despite this, the film never really gets boring, but constantly keeps itself fresh with the development of the narrative. The film takes most use of cinematography as possible, and the black and white is crisp and beautiful, so the film is also a visual treat, which is important considering much of the visual humour. Don’t get me wrong, though, there isn’t just visual humour, the script and dialogue is great and hilarious as well.

From a pure directing point of view, this is perhaps Capra’s most impressive output, his directing is so consistent and spot-on it at times feels as if he was born to make this film. There is particularly one scene which lasts for quite a long while on just a wide shot, and this was one of the most memorable moments in the films, and that requires quite a bit of skill, as if there was any doubt that Capra lacked this. He captures the frantic moments with gusto, and the silent moments are filled with extreme tension. What I loved most about this film, though, was the absolutely unique sardonic black humour, of which I don’t think I have seen the likes of in Hollywood films, and the closest example is probably Dr. Strangelove. Obviously, this is much due to the original material, but it is excellently translated to the screen here. It is really not that easy to successfully adapt plays to cinema, and I have seen many bad examples, but this is probably the single best example of a completely successful translation of the original material into another medium. Really, everything works very well in this film, and it is a joy from start to finish. Yeah, it doesn’t have the depth or subtlety of some of the other Capra films, but it is his most enjoyable film that I’ve seen, and it is a great example of his great directing.

While not a film I would consider among Capra’s best, it is still a pretty damn good film, and the humour is great, supported by the funny interpretation of the roles and actions by the cast. A wonder to behold, Capra’s sense of direction is fantastic, and a great exercise in how to successfully direct a pure comedy.

Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (Frank Capra, 1936)

Another film by Frank Capra, and this, just like its title, reminded me a lot of his other film Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. It has much of the same elements; a young naive man acquires a new post of status and has to adjust himself to the new environment and expectation, but in the end learns that he was better of as he was before the film started. Oh yes, there is also the obligatory love interest.

But Mr. Deeds Goes to Town lacks one major thing that Mr. Smith Goes to Washington had, and that is: Jimmy Stewart. Gary Cooper takes the role as the naive protagonist here, and to say the least, he lacks barrels of charisma. It is so natural with Jimmy Stewart that one almost doesn’t think about it when he acts, but I came tumbling right down to reality when I was watching Gary Cooper, and at times wished I was rather watching a Capra film featuring Stewart. Generally, I don’t rate acting that highly, but in Hollywood films, this is often a very essential part, and that is why I felt the story suffered a lot. But, while the film might have been much better with Jimmy Stewart in the main role rather than Gary Cooper, it still wouldn’t have been as good as Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Generally, it lacks the usual flair Capra’s films have, and his directing seems somewhat conservative, and not as spectacular nor as interesting as his films seem, especially his best. So, even though I still enjoyed the previous film I reviewed by Capra, it was still fairly weak for a Capra film. This, though, was quite weak overall, and didn’t have the overall Capra joy or enjoyment that we are usually treated to.

The ending of this film, particularly, is quite weak compared to the fantastic and epic ending of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. It all feels fairly contrived, and again, the script seems to be the weak link here. But, the film suffers further from the lack of inventive or interesting directing from Capra’s part. The black and white cinematography is quite nice, but the film doesn’t have that great nostalgic feel that I love so much about classic Hollywood films. The only fairly interesting part of this film is, strangely, the love interest of Gary Cooper. She kind of reminds me of the guy in It Happened One Night. She is a reporter, and tricks her way into his way to get an exclusive on his story to the big times. She is probably the most developed element in the film, but of course, she takes the usual route these characters take, she starts out as a cynical reporter who just cares about the story, but then subsequently falls in love with the protagonist and repents her ways. Of course, here we just see it from her point-of-view, while in It Happened One Night we saw it as a development between both of the two characters, and it was thus even better developed and believable. Well, so what I mean is that, while she is the only interesting character in the film, the relationship itself is not very interesting.

I didn’t really enjoy this film, and it was really a weak film from Capra. Again, it lacked the usual depth his films have, but here, it also missed the charm and joy that he manages to capture, and it thus lost most of my interest throughout. It seems to have a high score on IMDb, so I guess somebody seems to see something in this. Not me though.

You can’t take it With You (Frank Capra, 1938)

Frank Capra is probably one of the finest and one of my personal favourite directors of the classic Hollywood era. Then there is You can’t take it With You, a film I was left fairly unimpressed with, which is quite a disappointment, because it is the first time I’ve ever been unimpressed by a Capra film. Well, not quite, though, but it wasn’t right up there with his best, and, indeed, there were a lot of issues, particularly with the narrative, that irritated me. It is in many ways good fun, but lacks in some of the elements that makes Capra so great.

So this film deals with a family which is quite out of the ordinary. They believe in doing whatever they want, and have fun. This film also features Jimmy Stewart in his probably least inspired role, as the son of a rich guy who is mean and cynical, I liked him a lot. Yeah, you can already see where this review is going. Anyway, the family house is quite crazy; they even manufacture fireworks down in the cellar. Although they aren’t wealthy, they are very happy. One of the girls in the house is in love with the James Stewart character. You can easily see what way the film will go from here. Two people in love, one of a fun loving family without many riches, and the other of a family of cynical rich snobs. Will the crazy family learn complacency in the end, or will the cynical learn some compassion? Well, take your guess. Anyway, while I always like the themes and ideals Capra tries to express in his films, this film left me confused, as it actually seems to blatantly promote anarchy. The narrative contains some annoying plot-holes and at times doesn’t make much sense, particularly psychologically. The characters, though, are pretty colourful and likable, and the casting, as always with Capra films, is spot on.

Capra does, however, manage to evoke the feeling of joy, which is one of his greatest strengths, and there are many such moments in this film, which gives it an overall likability and makes it really watchable. What it does lack, though, is the wonderful subtlety and depth that Capra’s films usually contain, beneath the layer of the narrative. This might be more to the somewhat blatant screenplay, and less to Capra’s sensibility as a director, because the film, in pure technical terms, is pretty much on the same level as Capra’s other films, or indeed Hollywood in general. So it’s not really a bad film, it’s just quite shallow. There is indeed a message beneath the film, but it is not very subtle, nor is it very interesting. It is life affirming and the kind of “do what you can with your life” philosophy. And while most will probably agree with this nice assessment, the film doesn’t treat its subject with the seriousness it deserves. Well, don’t misunderstand, the film isn’t very serious, and is quite silly, but this shouldn’t stand in the way of a serious message, and this is the other main problem with the film. It knows what it wants to say, but doesn’t really have the means to explore this to its true depths, and thus remains fairly uninteresting in this right.

Still, though, it is an enjoyable film, and a fine entry into the work of Capra. I just wish more could have been done with the screenplay, which I thought was quite lacking. The film is based on a play, so I guess it is there where the problems are coming from. Essentially, it is a mainstream comedy, with little to no greater ambition, but for what it is, it’s still worth watching, and the comedy in itself is quite good.

Oliver Twist (David Lean, 1948)

Based on the classic novel by Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist is another classic British film by the director David Lean. Of course, this is a very well known book, and there are actually several film adaptations. I am familiar with the adaptation Oliver!, which was a musical, and one of my fondest childhood film memories. So, obviously, this film had to live up to the expectations of the musical. And, actually, it did, to some extent.

This film is much darker than the musical-colour-extravaganza version. The setting, the characters, and the story are pretty much the same, but the tone and atmosphere of the gritty cinematography creates the much more depressing tone of the film. The opening scenes exemplify this strongly, and I was not too surprises when I read that this film, at its screening, caused quite an upset. One thing that upset me, quite a bit, was the character Fagin. In the musical he is such a lovable person, in a very strange way, but here he is much darker, menacing and generally a bastard. I guess this goes for a lot of the characters in this film. Fagin, though, is played extremely well by one of my favourite British actors, Alec Guinness, and this was his first breakthrough performance. Fagin is quite a larger than life character, but Alec Guinness plays him with enough subtlety to give the character some more depth. He does it perfectly, and Fagin is a typical you love to hate him and hate to love him character. Of course, the real bastard in this film is Bill Sikes, and he is much darker than I remember him, but there you go. Mostly, the casting in this film is perfect, except, I think, the role of Oliver. He is a tad bit boring, and doesn’t really do much, and lacks some natural charisma to make him likable. But he is just a kid, though, and the adult actors support him well.

The book, which I haven’t read by the way, I assume is quite long. Because it feels like the film doesn’t leave out too much, but at its relative short running-time, the film seems to zoom by at lightning speed. Everything seems somewhat rushed, as we are just going through the motions to get to the next part of the narrative. This is the thing I remain most critical to, as the film never really slows down and takes its time properly developing the story, but moves too fast from one point to the next. Oliver is also adopted by some rich family, but compared to the musical, this relationship I felt was never properly explored, and I wanted more time spent in such scenes. Comparing this and the musical is obviously quite hard, because of their very different styles, but I must say that, even though I thought this was great, I think I still prefer the musical. It has charm, beautiful cinematography, great acting and a very well developed story which, even with the excess of the songs, doesn’t seem to be rushed. 10-20 odd minutes more could have added a lot of pace and depth to this black and white version. Still, it has all the trademarks of a classic, and deserves its place within British cinema. It has a very dark atmosphere, which is interesting for the time it was made, and has that undeniable British charm that I quite love.

The film is very enjoyable in many ways, but at the end of the day, it suffers from the rushed storyline. Anyway, the casting is mostly great and the cinematography is great, what’s not to like?

Brief Encounters (David Lean, 1945)

I don’t know much about David Lean, despite having watched several of his films before. I knew him mainly as a director of wide-shot epics, and some of them were my favourite films, particularly The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), which was fantastic. But, David Lean also made some smaller films before that, in black and white. Brief Encounters is quite famous, but it was only recently that I discovered that it was David Lean who directed it.

So this is a shorter, less spectacular film than I have previously associated with David Lean. The black and white cinematography isn’t as sweeping as those other later colour films, but it creates a nice and tight atmosphere, particularly at night. This film is your basic love story, and has been copied and parodied countless times. Luckily, though, the film avoids being a cliché of itself by creating a wonderful melancholic mood and nostalgic feeling to it. There is also laid down a lot of groundwork to get us, the audience, to sympathise and feel the protagonist’s point of view and submit us to the somewhat dreary life that she leads. Although she is not really unhappy, she doesn’t have much passion in her life, and this meeting with a strange man quickly leads to a romance which introduces her to passion again. Of course, both of them are married, and therefore the romance is doomed, particularly in this old day England. Actually, I really enjoyed the setting, and the thick accents of some of the characters are wonderful. The main setting is a small bar at the train station; both of the main characters live far apart, but meet on this station when they are to go home. Interestingly though; many of the supporting characters almost never have anything to do with the actual story, they are just people bantering at the bar. While the danger here is to take away from the main story, it actually enhances it, as it gives the film, which is already quite gloomy, a more lighter mood, and also provides some fun comedy.

One of the things that I particularly liked was the age of the two characters. They aren’t young, but more middle aged. Today, of course, romance is usually only between two young people, but I feel this works better, because young romance is so easy to write anyway. The romance between the two main characters is based on the fact that they both lack something in their lives, and this is important to adding to the particular mood of the film, which is overall, the best element. Despite the sometimes euphoric romance, there is always a sense of doom and inevitability, and it makes every single minute feel like it counts. Actually, the film felt much longer than it actually was, but this wasn’t really a bad thing. Some of the best moments are when the two go for walks in the country, and this really resonates a romantic tone which feels all the more sad when knowing how hopeless the courting is. The film isn’t really that broad, but it excels at what it is trying to achieve, and is a great exploration of romance. The protagonist is continually well developed throughout the film, and this helps create the strong resonance in the film. However, I sometimes felt that the male interest was a bit too hollow, and one really doesn’t get to close a look at his character, and the interest in the romance from this part suffers as a result. But it doesn’t really detract that much from the film overall.

Pretty damn good romance film, as good as these get, I would say. It doesn’t really go many places nor have any broad themes or interests, but for what it is it is exceptional. Not really the kind of film that will become my favourite, but the film is carefully directed and shows great touches of atmosphere and the emotions a film can create. Neat.

Repulsion (Roman Polanski, 1965)

Roman Polanski is one of the finest directors out there, is sense of space and creating a dark and claustrophobic atmosphere is brilliant, and he showcases this in such films as Rosemary’s Baby and The Tenant, and his Chinatown is just brilliantly directed. Repulsion was his first film outside Poland, I believe, and it is interesting to see what further steps he took his directing to. This was made in the UK, during that infamous flower power era, and this film does reflect that, to some extent.

What is crucial for the film is its quite daring exploration of a woman’s sexuality, more specifically that of Catherine Deneuve, who lives in London with her sister, who have come to work from Belgium, the French part of Belgium obviously. Of all the Polanski films I have seen, this probably has the most sharp directing, which is quite a feat, considering his previous films. There isn’t a lot of dialogue in this film; rather, we see the inner world of the protagonist, as she becomes more and more paranoid about the surroundings around her, and when she is all alone in the apartment. The most memorable image in the film is the rotting carcass of a rabbit in the kitchen. The film slowly progresses and reveals more about the character, and the tension builds effectively. Polanski takes some unexpected routes to get to where he wants, but always to great effect. The film is shot in grim black and white, and properly suits the mood of the film. Deneuve is perfect in her ice cold manner, and although she doesn’t emote much, this works well with the isolated character that she plays. Great example of good casting. Polanski, though, doesn’t mind throwing the audience about a bit, and our senses are distorted at times, which is quite effective. Much of the films strengths is its development and unfolding, so I won’t go too much into it.

Polanski is a master of the exploration of space and claustrophobia, and this is fairly similar to Rosemary’s Baby although, I believe, Repulsion is superior to that film. The intense feeling of claustrophobia, together with sexual angst, grows throughout the film, and builds towards a great climax. This is where Polanski’s sense of directing really comes to its best, his angles, the framing, it’s all great, and helps create the underlying fear of the film. This is a great example of truly telling the story through visual means, the lack of much dialogue helps create the sense of isolation, but also allows Polanski to experiment with the camera, everything is told through the lens, most of the dialogue is superfluous and is just there to add some background information. Isolation and paranoia was what Polanski was best at, and it shows gloriously in this film. In fact, I think this is the best film I’ve seen by Polanski, and I love Polanski. He is without doubt one of the best directors to appear during the early to mid 60’s, and this film is the point where the young director really reached his heights.

Brilliant film, brilliant framing and cinematography. The way tension and paranoia is built is superb, and it is a deep and disturbing exploration of repressed sexuality, not to get too Freudian. Not very accessible, the pacing is quite slow, but properly slow. Indeed, I prefer slow pacing compared to fast pacing. But that’s just me.

Orphée (Jean Cocteau, 1950)

Well, I might not have been too positive about the last Jean Cocteau film I reviewed, but this was a whole bunch better. Much of the visual fiesta has been preserved, with some interesting and fascinating special effects, a narrative I actually cared about and some more freaky stuff that is quite cool. So, Orphée...

Actually, I don’t have much to say about this film, I liked it, it was okay. Not brilliant, but good. One thing that got to me was why the hell does Cocteau like obnoxious characters? So the sisters were quite annoying, but here the main protagonist is a jerk, he is just insufferable. Anyway, the best part of this is the set designs, the mystery, and the awesome special effects, which are quite inventive. They work well towards the narrative, and help build the uncanny feeling this film possesses. Actually, with both Cocteau films, what he excels is the atmosphere and mystery. What is the story about? Well, I won’t bother elaborating too much about it, because it is a bit complex and I don’t think I could do justice to it. Anyway, it is a love story, of sorts, between this guy and his wife, and it gets solved because death is in love with the guy and... wait no, I’m not going to go further into it. This is going to be a short review.

You might sense that I am fairly apathetic in this review. Well, yeah, while I enjoyed this film, it wasn’t all that, and after all the stuff in the narrative, the only thing that had me really fascinated were the special effects, which were great. I don’t know, I just don’t really care too much for these films, I don’t love them, but I don’t particularly hate them either. They are just uninteresting to me, and at times it even feels as if the films aren’t even interested in themselves. So yeah, I’ve heard quite a bit of hype about Cocteau from the elite, but I just don’t buy it, there isn’t enough there for me to pick from, there aren’t any thought provoking moments, even when the film tries its best to be.

So, two Cocteau films seen, not really impressed, okay I guess, in their own ways. The cinematography and set design is great in both, and the special effects in Orphée are fantastic, and so that at least is something positive. Don’t think I’ll return to this guy in a while.

La belle et la bête (Jean Cocteau, 1946)

So, like everyone else and their mothers I saw Beauty and the Beast when I was a kid. I watched anew with more mature eyes about a year ago and, yeah, it was pretty good, although I probably need to watch it again now after having seen Jean Cocteau’s French version, which preceded the Disney one, which is cool. Cocteau does add his own style to the myth, and the mystery in the film is quite good, let’s see.

For one, I was actually more scared by the Disney version of the Beast than in this film. Well, it’s really a no-brainer, in the Disney film he moves and roars like a lion, and is seriously threatening. In this, it’s some guy in a suit speaking not so threatening polite French. Ok, so that element was gone, but what was cool was the absurdity of his castle, with live hands holding the candles in the corridors and faces in the walls, but they never speak, they are just silent and watch, which is quite freaky. The atmospheric cinematography is great, and creates the perfect mood for this film, and again, black and white rules. The story is very much the same that as the Disney version, except of course that it doesn’t have a happy ending. Sorry to spoil that for you, but hey, this is a French film, what else do you expect? The ending is quite neat; I am going to have to watch that again soon. Anyway, there are some new characters; Beauty (yes, that’s her name, what pretentious father would call his daughter this?) has some truly obnoxious and annoying sisters, which I suppose are supposed to be funny, but never in such a way as Max Ophüls could pull this sort of stuff off. They are a weak spot of the film, but even more annoyingly so, they are important to the narrative, so one couldn’t have cut them out, damn! Anyway, the film is pretty short so there wouldn’t have been much leeway for cutting it down anyway.

Jean Cocteau said that he never considered himself a filmmaker, and I believe him, because this film has many narrative flaws, most prominently; why the hell does Beauty end up loving the Beast. It is never properly explored, I guess it is because at some point he proves he loves her, but is that really enough? Okay, I admit that I am the sort of guy who never puts too much importance on narrative, but what the hell, this is a pretty damn well known story, and the way the film presents itself here, you would think there was more room for the exploration of the relationship between the Beauty and the Beast. Hell, they should just have cut out those obnoxious sisters and focused on that. Anyway, what is interesting is that the character that is the most similar, strikingly so, to the same character in the Disney film is the human guy who loves Beauty. In the Disney film he was pretty cartoonish, but too my astonishment, he is exactly the same in this French black and white art film as he was in the Disney version. Well, art never grows old, or so it is to be believed, so whatever, let’s just ignore the Disney version for now, and focus on the Jean Cocteau version in its own right. Wait, this review is over. Oh Well.

Sure, the cinematography, atmosphere and set design was both beautiful and inspired, but overall, the visual strengths of this film did not convince me that much. Actually, the Disney version was better, in just so many ways. I particularly despised those sisters, who made the stepsisters from Cinderella seem respectable. Check it out for something freaky, or if you are already into Jean Cocteau, I certainly didn’t get it.

Madame de... (Max Ophüls, 1953)

Okay, what the hell? Is this some sort of tease, does Max Ophüls want me to give up all hope for contemporary cinema? Why doesn’t filmmakers make films like this anymore, this is as close you can get to pure cinema and still have a strong narrative intact. This is epic, visionary, beautiful, poignant, and all other words that mean some sort of euphoria. This film sums up everything Max Ophül’s cinema is about, and at the same time avoids any form of pretentiousness.

This is a story about some earrings, belonging to Madame de, given to her by her husband as a wedding present, but she doesn’t care too much for them, and decide to pawn them off. Then all goes to hell. That is as much as I am about to say about the story, but, what is important here is the brilliant progression of the story, which at the end concludes everything perfectly. This film captures life, in so many ways, that one is inclined to feel that there couldn’t be anything more beyond the film. Peoples relationship with each other, the world around them and objects is studied carefully, and the setting is perfect for this, the typical turn of the century upper-class setting that Ophüls loved so much. Lavish sets and costumes are part of this film, and they have never looked better in the beautiful black and white cinematography, damn colour! But, I’ve already talked too much about the cinematography of Ophüls, already in two reviews, so why continue the same discussion? Well, here he actually takes it to another level! The opening take is a gorgeous tracking shot, and this style continues throughout the whole film, it is so damn impressive, I have a loss of words for the excitement I feel when watching an Ophüls film.

The cast is great, particularly the actress playing Madame de and her husband are very enjoyable to watch. The relationship between the two characters is built up throughout the whole film, and setting them in the upper-class environment is at times hilarious, for example when the wife pretends she has lost her earrings, and the husband, in all his military clothing, goes around an opera looking for them, creating mass confusion. The same sardonic humour and cynicism from La Ronde returns gloriously in this film, and at times the parody and hypocrisy of the upper-class is hilarious. This criticism, though, isn’t overbearing but sharp and witty. Criticism of the upper-class too often becomes bitter and boring, while this film just has a good laugh at the lot of them. Comedy done well, something we don’t see too often. Anyway, this is Max Ophül’s best film, without a doubt. It has all the subtle gestures and visionary camerawork that has become so normal in his films, but while La Ronde was damn impressive in itself, Ophüls actually had the guts to take that further and improve his style, and it is gloriously realised in this film.

Yeah, I know I am hyping this film a lot, but it is THAT good, and deserves all the praise it can get. It is the height of Ophüls power, and one of his last films. I think he made two more films, but a large part of his work hasn’t been released on DVD, so damn if I know how good they actually are. If they are released, though, on DVD, I will definitely get them, because this director demands you explore his work. Fantastic!

Le plaisir (Max Ophüls, 1952)

So, the second of Ophüls French escapades, Le plaisir was made two years after La Ronde, and is in many ways in the same spirit, dealing with many of the same themes, although, I felt, it didn’t quite try to reach as far as La Ronde. But it is pretty much as delightful as La Ronde, and the same style works fine for a second time, hell, I could watch a hundred of these films and not get bored, Ophül’s style is impeccable.

Le plaisir follows in many ways in the footsteps of La Ronde. It has that fragmented storytelling and also the same stylistics as La Ronde. Le plaisir, though, is not connected in such a way as La Ronde, but is rather three different short films connected together. Well, the first and third are fairly short, the middle one is almost as long as a feature, so it is more like a sandwich, in a weird way. These stories are slightly less cynical than the ones from La Ronde, and are much more heartfelt, being uplifting instead of dark and sardonic. But much of the humour has been kept, and the distanced camera is still apparent. The first is about an old man who puts on a mask so he can go out to dance and party with the beautiful and sophisticated, the second is about a group of prostitutes who take a trip out to the country, and the third is about a painter. Particularly enjoyable in the second is the scenes where the brothel has been closed without warning, and all the men walk around at night without knowing what to do, now that the local “entertainment” is gone, for the night anyway, and the streets almost burst out into fighting. This story is the strongest, although the other two are really enjoyable, they are short, the first being the best of the shorter ones, and is one of the finest short films I’ve seen.

Ophüls stretches his imagination and vision even further here, and some of the camerawork is simply astonishing, particularly in the first act. The black and white, again, looks gorgeous, and the country side part of the second act are particularly beautiful, filled with peace and serenity, in contrast to the dark tones of the city. The Brechtian overtones are here again, but hey, what else do you expect from a filmmaker who worked as a director in theatre in Germany during the 1920’s? It is not as apparent here as in La Ronde, but the traces are still there, particularly the style and setting which mirrors much of the one in Brecht’s plays. Overall though, I didn’t find this as interesting or coherent as La Ronde. It was still very enjoyable, and shared many of the same strengths as La Ronde, but the fractured style didn’t work as well for me as in the previously mentioned film. Then again, you can’t really go wrong with Ophüls, and this is another testament to his incredible visual talent. The long takes are, perhaps, even more impressive here than in La Ronde, and more visionary and epic. The first act is just brilliant cinema.

Check it out, but La Ronde is better, in my opinion, and a better starting point. Well, Letter from an Unknown Woman is probably the best starting point if you want to check out Ophüls, but hell, all his films are great!

La Ronde (Max Opüls, 1950)

I’ve been very curious about the French work of Max Ophüls, after he left Hollywood. He did make some fine films in the states, particularly Letter from an Unknown Woman, but I imagined, and I was right, that he would have even more liberties with the films he made in France, outside the constraints of the censor. Criterion released three of the films Ophüls made in France, and this was the first one of those releases. And, yeah, it’s great.

The film opens with a scene that is absurdly Brechtian, narrated by the wonderful Anton Walbrook as he walks through different sets, very cinematically, and talking about the story that is about to unfold. Brechtian cinema can be both great and horrible, depending on how it is handled, and here it is extraordinary. Ophül’s use of Brechtian techniques in his American films was already apparent, but quite a bit more subtle. These techniques are clearer in La Ronde, but the way they from the start take centre-stage is great, and it doesn’t become an overburden, as it so often is inclined to. Anyway, the film doesn’t have a story of sorts, rather, let me explain this, it follows people as they sleep with each other. The film starts out with a prostitute, who sleeps with a soldier, we then follow him, he sleeps with some girl, we then follow her and so on it goes, until the last person sleeps with the prostitute from the beginning of the film. It is a nice tool the film uses to cover a lot of ground, about several different people and levels of society. Ophüls, of course, loves to explore the upper class and all its facets, and while he is quite critical of these people, he also manages to remain coldly distanced. My favourite part is some rich brat teenager who sleeps with the maid, it is actually a hilarious and sardonic scene when he tries to court her.

The more I watch these kinds of films, the more I course the fact that they invented colour film, because the crisp black and white in this looks absolutely gorgeous. Ophül’s sense of pacing and framing is spot on here, and his long takes, well, the opening scene I earlier described was just one long take, are fantastic, and he was an important inspiration for Stanley Kubrick, and it shows. But this is more than technical showings, because every shot in Ophül’s films are very significant, Letter from and Unknown Woman has so many layers, subtexts and clever camerawork it is insanely complex. I didn’t get as much time to look deeply into La Ronde, but believe me, this is even more complex, and believe me when I say that I was able to write a 2,500 word essay one just one 10-minute scene from Letter From an Unknown Woman, and with ease. So yeah, there is a lot to pick up in his films. Ophüls was one of those great German Hollywood directors who perfected his craft in Hollywood after escaping from Nazi Germany. But I believe, though all the frustration he had with the Hollywood system, that he gained a lot from it. I allowed him, or rather forced him, to make his works more subtle, apply crafty subtext, and such. As a director it brought him to maturity in many ways, although the road might have been arduous.

Great film, fantastic, I love the style, the setting, the narrative, the Brechtian techniques, and the wonderful cinematography. It is really a step further stylistically, but Ophüls avoids the traps of style, and creates a deeply profound film about life in so many ways. Style can be so many things, and is usually overexposed and overused by directors, particularly today, but Ophüls doesn’t miss his mark, and this is a masterpiece.

Faust (F.W. Murnau, 1926)

Now we’re talking! Murnau was the greatest master of the silent drama, and this is perhaps one of the finest of his films, Faust, a film that envelops so many themes, ideas, beautiful shots and actions that I am astounded he managed to stuff it all within one single film! It is like several films into one, yet the story is so idiotically simple. Along with the discovery of Pandora’s Box, I think that exploring the works of Murnau has been the most worthwhile while watching all these silent films recently.

As said, the story is simple: The devil makes a bet with an angel, or God, I’m not sure, maybe the angel was a representative of God, whatever. The bet is that he can turn Faust, a devoted Christian, into the way of the devil, kind of a version of the Book of Job. So the devil, in some absolutely awesome special effects that are way more effective than anything made today, spreads the plague in the town that Faust lives. Faust, being a doctor, is unable to help anyone from the rampant plague, until Mephisto, brilliantly played by, again, Emil Jannings, offers him the opportunity to have all the powers of the devil, and thus save the people of the city. Eventually, he agrees, and many events unfold later which I will not reveal here. The only thing I will say, and complain about, is the somewhat disappointing ending, but that is the only bad thing about the film, the rest would be useless nitpicking.

What is the most astounding about this film is its technology. The special effects are great, and aren’t there just for show, like most today, but have great emotional effects, drive the narrative forward or otherwise making the film more epic, making us realize that it is more about the big picture than just the man Faust, although it also is that. There is the inevitable thing that people will ALWAYS complain about, and that is that they believe silent films are DATED. At times I might, and have indeed, be called a film snob, but I actually, to some extent, agree with the sentiment. Some silent films just are dated, but still, the best of the pack, are not, such as Faust, or the Pabst films, or many of the comedies such as Chaplin and Keaton. The great films never date, particularly such a brilliant film as Faust, where the sheer fantasy of the special effects transcend time. What I am saying is that, many silent films are dated, but if you believe that films such as Faust is dated, excuse me for being a film snob, you are ignorant and cannot see beyond the screen. Fact.

So, there my recent stint into silent films ends, and on a high note as well. I will come back in some time, but as always, when I have seen many films of the same type, I grow tired of them, and for now I am tired of silent films. The best ones were Der Letzte Mann, Faust, and Pandora’s Box. Great films all of them, and I actually didn’t see any stinkers, so well done.

Michael (Carl Theodor Dreyer, 1924)

More silent films to watch, then, and the next on my list was the German-produced Michael by the Danish director Dreyer. I had never heard of this film before, but apparently it had been “rediscovered” by the Masters of Cinema collection and was one of their earliest releases. So of course, I was interested in watching this. I wasn’t too fascinated with Dreyer’s Le passion de Jeanne d’Arc (1928), excuse me, but I loved Ordet (1955) and Vampyr (1932). Incidentally, Vampyr was the first film I reviewed on this site, so good to come back to Dreyer after all this time. Anyway, Michael...

The story is about a famous and prestigious painter. One day, a young aspiring painter comes to meet him and get some sort of advice. Instead, the older painter wants to use this young man, Michael, as his new model, and he becomes a whole new inspiration. What is most interesting about this film is how, the old man is completely isolated in his world of art, except of course for Michael, who becomes his closest friend and companion. As we would expect, things don’t always stay perfect, and eventually Michael and the old artist start to fall apart, especially when the old artist starts to paint a young woman instead of Michael, who falls in love with this young woman. The core of the story is the isolation and tragedy of the aging artist, who only lives for his art. However, there is a strong sense of the aging artist having a homoerotic relationship with Michael, and all the conflicts are concerned between these two men. Much like Pabst’s films, it is a bit astounding that they explored such issues in the “old days”, but then again this wasn’t Hollywood, and it is probably more that we are not so used to such themes in old films, at least far from as much as they do today.

One of the main selling points of the film is its great cinematography, which really captures the space of where the artist lives and creates a very dark mood. The accompanying music was also helpful, although the Masters of Cinema DVD provided me with the option of two different tracks, and I only listened to one, so I can’t comment any further than that. This being said, this is not my favourite Dreyer film, hell, it’s not even my favourite silent film, by far. It is a pretty damn film in its own right and an interesting addition to the films I’ve seen by Dreyer, but, somewhere I felt it lost the plot. The theme about isolation and loneliness are interesting, but are rather thin, and I definitely felt that the film could have been shorter and more focused, a problem I often find with films. Less is more, that insipid cliché, is even truer for cinema. I am happy that I saw this, though, and for anyone interested in the works of Dreyer, definitely check this out, it is better than that OTHER overrated film of his. I you are not that interested in Dreyer, though, I would recommend any of the silent films by Murnau over this, they are mostly all fantastic films.

Pretty good silent film by the master Dreyer, but I felt somewhat cheated; there could have been more in certain areas, and less in others. Otherwise, a very enjoyable film in its own right, and worth checking out for Dreyer enthusiasts.

Tagebuch einer Verlorenen (Georg Wilhelm Pabst, 1929)

So, after the absolute delightful experience that was Pandora’s Box, I was quite excited to watch the other pairing up of Louise Brooks and Pabst. This was indeed quite a different movie from Pandora’s Box, and not as good either. Still, it had its strength and well worth checking out, but unlike Pandora’s Box it didn’t feel like it had the same impact as the former. It suffered somewhat from structure, and the impact wasn’t as strong, as well as the themes weren’t as interesting. Still, lets take a closer look.

The character Louise Brooks plays here is quite different from Pandora’s Box. While she there was able to seduce men, and did so with gusto, here she seduces men, but rather against her own will and wit. She is a victim of men’s lust, and in a strange way the themes from the first film are the same here, but warped somewhat. A man forces himself on her, and she becomes pregnant. Now, when the child is born, her parents want to force her to marry this guy, who is by the way an absolute bastard. Of course she refuses and is sent to some prison of sorts with other “deviant” women, her child taken away from her. Here she is monitored by some sick nun and her large bald friend who ensures peace is kept. This part was for me the most interesting part of the film, as the audience are showed some interesting actions and the nun is a great character, who tortures the women at the prison for her own warped sexual pleasure. It is fairly disturbing, and I’m surprised they got away with this in the old days. The implications are great though.

The film lacks a certain drive that Pandora’s Box certainly had. There is a lot of emotional stuff in there, but it just doesn’t tie together as well as the previous film. That said, there are some great scenes, and the film relies on these exceptional sole moments to create its power and meaning. The major problem, compared to Pandora’s Box, is the climax. The climax isn’t that strong, and falls short off the mark, much due to the structure of the film. I know I compare the film too much to Pandora’s Box, but considering the absolute perfection of that film, I feel it is reasonable. Louise Brooks, though, is still great, and the portrayal of the simple naive girl is wonderful, and she truly keeps our interest and concern. Unlike Pandora’s Box, where she was a great asset, here she is basically the saving spirit, although the film craft itself is fine, she does heighten the film to another level. That is not to say that the film is average, it isn’t. But one feels that it could have achieved more, and could have been better. It is still a damn good movie; it just doesn’t reach the cathartic heights that Pandora’s Box did.

Watch Pandora’s Box first, it is a superior movie. However, if you like it, there is not real reason why you shouldn’t watch this film. It still has a lot to offer, and stands fine on its own, and featuring Louise Brooks it is a definite sale. Still good, but falls off the mark compared to the fantastic Pandora’s Box.

Die Büsche der Pandora (Georg Wilhelm Pabst, 1929)

So I’ve been gone for a long while, I’ve been incredibly busy and have had too much to do, so had to push this page out of the list. I have now, though, handed in all my work for university, and have about a month with nothing to do, yay! I’ve seen quite a few films though, and I’m going to start right where I stopped, in the midst of the German silent era. The film is Pandora’s Box, directed by Pabst who had also done the Three Penny Opera, which I reviewed earlier. I was quite interested in these silent films, as they had been recommended to me by one of my professors. To say the least, I was not disappointed.

The film is staged around its illustrious star, Louise Brooks, who made her career in Hollywood, but left for Germany because of the advances of sound. She gives perhaps one of the finest female performances I’ve ever seen and in a silent film as well! This is a natural, her face looks absolutely perfect on the screen, her facial expressions are always meaningful and simple, conveying the mood and thoughts of the character in a way dialogue never can achieve. As I noted in my last review of a Pabst film, I was impressed with his style, but here it is at a pitch perfect. There is a scene, I won’t spoil it here, which is one of the most effectual I’ve ever seen in cinema. Incidentally, Louise Brooks does not feature in this scene, which makes it even more astounding how effective that scene is. Throughout the film, though, what the film relies most on is the sexual presence of Louise Brooks, who is effective at using her natural charm, and the film portrays this fantastically. Both the audience and the male characters in the film are drawn to her, as she takes centre stage. A lot of the cinematography is crafted around her, and in the process creating some of the most beautiful and alluring shots in cinema. The close ups of Louise Brooks are, as much as the narrative and beautiful story structure, the biggest selling point of the film. But it isn’t cheap, like so much of Hollywood, but rather heightens the film, most importantly because of the story and the subject matter.

Louise Brooks plays a prostitute, who can easily get whatever she wants because of her natural “talents”. But the film doesn’t portray her as a deviant; rather, she is portrayed as an innocent and somewhat naive character. The events that occur are because of her, but less because of what she specifically does and more because of the obsession the men have with her. Of course, this all leads to both horrible and hilarious incidents, and at times the Louise Brooks character is nothing more but a mere spectator. The power of the movie comes from the tragedy, of course. But the film never uses cheap tricks, and one feels that all the elements of the narrative bond together very well. This comes from the exceptional episodic structure of the film, which shows how important editing, in terms of the overall narrative, is. The progression constantly and effectively builds up the tension and themes, and when the last couple of striking scenes come up, one cannot help but be astounded by the completeness of the film and the impact is made strong by this. Indeed, the playing time of the film feels perfect, as it is not too long nor too short, which is something films frequently suffer from. Great stuff!

This is, perhaps, one of the best silent films I’ve ever seen. Everything in the craft is damn perfect, and the presence of Louise Brooks comes as a great addition to all that. The film would still have been great, but she adds so much that it is impossible to imagine the film without her. She is a natural, and she was in another German silent film directed by Pabst, great!