The Great Moment (Preston Sturges, 1944)

The Great Moment was the last of the Preston Sturges Universal run, and it was the film that managed to sink his career when he was on a high. There were fights with the studio, the film was shelved for quite a while, and it ruined Sturges reputation. It’s very sad, but also easy to see why, as the film is really poor, especially compared to his previous outings. It has much of the cast that Sturges used, but the film itself is structured very poorly and the story is mediocre, despite having some potential. The acting is from ok to just bad, and the characterization is poor.

The story is based on the real story of a dentist who discovers and invents anesthesia, but suffers because of it. It’s an interesting premise, where the dentist, Morton, is in some quarters lauded and praised for his discovery, while others criticize and ridicule him, either because they are jealous or because they somehow took part in the discovery and want to be part of the claim. In the end it ends very badly for Morton, as he loses everything. I shouldn’t say “by the end”, because this is how the film starts, showing us the fall from grace that he suffered, before flashing back in time to show how this came to be in the first place. The problem is that the story is told in a very tedious way, it’s actually very boring. A lot of the drama falls flat because of Joel McCrea, who while suited for Sturges comedy, doesn’t really work here. Sturges doesn’t handle the dramatics as well as one would think he could, and the structure of the film seems very muddled. Actually it’s almost ironic considering the premonition Sturges himself made in Sullivan’s Travels. Apparently this film was going to be his greatest, but it turned out so badly. One could say that the studio destroyed something as well, but there are little signs in this film of any real potential. As I said, the story has some potential but the execution is very bad.

Another problem with this “drama” is that there are indeed some comedic moments, but they really and truly fall flat and are unfunny. Because of the tone and the style of the film, the comedic just seems silly, particularly one painful slap-stick moment which is completely out of sync with the rest of the film. It seems that Sturges could make comedies with drama, but not dramas with comedy. The character progression is very sub-par compared to how Sturges works his characters in his other films, and overall I felt the film lacked the Sturges “touch”. The film is one very few would watch if it wasn’t for the fact that it was made by Sturges. The only real significance the film has is as some sort of historic document. Anyone interested in Sturges from a historical studies viewpoint should watch the film, as it is quite an astounding fall from grace. Other than being of historic interest, any regular viewer should avoid this film, and rather watch Sturges’ excellent comedy run for Universal, as these films offer so much more than The Great Moment.

The Great Moment isn’t completely BAD, it just is very mediocre. It has very little to offer in terms of comedy, drama, satire or entertainment. It’s sad that Sturges ended his Universal career like this, and while he made a few films afterwards, he never quite recovered from this bomb. Strange how a career can so quickly loop downwards.

Hail the Conquering Hero (Preston Sturges, 1944)

I think that perhaps Hail the Conquering Hero is Sturges’ funniest movie, at least of the ones that I’ve seen. It’s a brilliant exercise of panicky slap-stick comedy and stinging satire. Like all his films, it’s satirical about America, but this time it focuses on hero worshiping and the illusion of heroism, as a small town is caught in the rage of celebrating their local hero. It’s about being caught in madness and hype, something that is still relevant in today’s world.

Woodrow is our protagonist and he is depressed. He’s hanging out at bars and drinking because he can’t go back home. The reason for this is that a year ago he signed up to join the Marines, only to be rejected because he has hay fewer. His father was a Marine and killed in the war when Woodrow was just an infant, and he doesn’t dare return to the shame of not having lived up to his father’s memory, so he pretends that he did join the Marines and sends his mother letters where he lies about it. One night he meets up with a group of real Marines who have leave. However, they are all broke and don’t quite know what to do with their time. However one of them is fixated on mothers because he never had one, and is infuriated at Woodrow for not having gone back to his yet. So the Marines get an idea; how about lending Woodrow one of their uniforms and going back with him pretending he was in the war, but released because of an injury. Perfect! So they all take him back to his small hometown. This is of course against his own will, as Woodrow sees the many faults that this plan could have, but they drag him along anyway. This is one of the comedic highlights of the films, and Eddie Bracken is perfect as the mumbling and unwilling Woodrow, who is extremely upset about the situation and fears being found out. However they assure him that they will be as discreet as possible, and only visit his mother for a few days, then leave.

Of course, it doesn’t quite work out like that. One of the funniest scenes is when the train Woodrow and his Marine pals are approaching the station, and the whole town has turned up, with banners and four different bands nonetheless. Mass hysteria hits the town as they want to greet their homecoming hero, including the mayor being ready with a speech and the key to the city. Woodrow’s old flame is also there, although she is engaged to another man, as Woodrow in one of his letters lied about being in love with someone else, and urging her to move on. What makes this film so funny is the juxtaposition of Woodrow’s reluctance and fear with the hysteria of the townspeople, creating many great situations. It doesn’t get any better, as soon some serious political figures in the town start thinking that Woodrow with his “charisma” and “heroism” would make a great new major, as the election is just a few days away. And Woodrow just gets dragged in deeper and deeper. Having been made during the Second World War, Sturges is quite brave to hit this particular nerve for satire. It’s a testament to how independent and sharp Sturges had become, and the film captures the American idyllic hero worshiping at its worst, clearly unraveling how ridiculous this had become by that time. It poked fun at something very central, and I would imagine hadn’t it been for the excellent humor this film would have been seen in a much more critical and controversial light. But what’s great about Sturges’ comedy is that it doesn’t take away from the satire, but strongly adds to it.

Hail the Conquering Hero is a very, very funny film. It hits all the right notes and also works extremely well as a satire of Americana, which becomes even funnier and clearer today. It’s a testament to the strength of Sturges’ filmmaking that his films manage to stay so fresh and the issues they deal with are still relevant, even more so, today. But he captured a particular spirit of the time, and for that, we should hail him.

The Palm Beach Story (Preston Sturges, 1942)

Now here’s an interesting little film that Preston Sturges made. It’s a romantic comedy/screwball comedy, but in a very impressive way, as it almost works as a commentary on the genre, and it certainly shows the depth and talent of Sturges. In many ways I find it the most fascinating of Sturges’ films, although it’s not among his best, certainly not The Lady Eve and Sullivan’s Travels. Still, it’s an essential part of the Sturges canon, and a fascinating little film that should be studied.

The story is fairly simple: Gerry and Tom are married, but poor. Tom has a brilliant idea that could make him rich, but he needs a load of cash to get the project underway. So Gerry decides to divorce Tom so that she can marry a rich man and get him the money. It’s a fascinating idea where two people are getting divorced, not out of hate, but out of love. Of course Tom isn’t too thrilled about the idea and tries to stop her. Gerry figures out that she has to go to Palm Beach to get the divorce, so a sort of a chase is on. He says she can never get there without any money, but she thinks she can. There’s a great scene where she wants to get on a train to Palm Beach, and does so by flirting with the gatekeeper and some of the passengers, and gets her own room for the trip, while Tom gets chased out of the train station by the guards as she says he “wants to molest me”. Hilarious. While overall not Sturges’ funniest film, it does have one of the funniest moments in any Sturges film, although it is somewhat controversial, at least it seems so from the comments on IMDb. Gerry gets lodging with a bunch of rich gun & hunting enthusiasts, and during the evening when they are getting quite drunk, things get out of hand and they grab their guns and start shooting wildly; inside the carriage! Besides being truly funny, it’s also an interesting early criticism of the liberal gun laws in the US.

On the way to Palm Beach Gerry meets a shy millionaire, who of course falls in love with her. She takes advantage and accepts his proposal to stay with him for a while at his house in Palm Beach. But when they arrive there Tom has gotten ahead of her and is waiting, where she presents him as her brother. Another character who joins the fold is the “loose” Princess Centimillia, who immediately falls for Tom. She is played by Mary Astor, who is without a doubt the funniest person in the film, she is simply wonderful. It all opens up for a funny and interesting final act. One thing I should mention is that this film has one of the truly most bizarre endings I’ve ever seen. I won’t spoil the ending, but I will say that it’s connected to the equally bizarre opening, which at first seems to have little connection to the film itself. It’s one of the things that make the film really interesting. There are a lot of set pieces and characters that are hilarious in this movie that I haven’t mentioned yet, but it all goes to show how much Preston Sturges’ films have to offer. What he does so wonderfully with his central cast of characters that he uses over and over again is that he adds a lot of flavor to his films, every minor character has something funny to say or has some small quirk, and this is one of the things that make his films remarkable and funny. I will say that Joel McCrea is really underrated in Sturges’ films. He may not have the greatest dramatic range, but his dead pan seriousness is perfect for the kind of comedy that Sturges works with, and the two are a perfect match.

The Palm Beach Story is fascinating in its own rights, and truly an interesting and unique film in the works of Preston Sturges. I feel that even though all of Preston Sturges’ films have something in common, they all also have their own unique identities and themes that separate them. That’s what’s impressive about Sturges, is that although he has his own unique style, he also managed to make several interesting films without repeating the trick, and instead incorporated his style into several very different films, as well as use the cast over and over again without anyone seeming tired or boring.

Sullivan’s Travels (Preston Sturges, 1941)

Sullivan’s Travels is perhaps Sturges most accomplished film, it’s a meta-film like Sunset Boulevard but more like 8 ½. It’s also one of Sturges’ most engaging and funny films, with an excellent script and the wonderful cast that he used several times and of course the wonderful Veronica Lake. It is in a way strangely structured but it works really well for the overall theme and story of the film.

The story mirrors Preston Sturges own life. The story follows a very successful director who is tired of making comedy hits, and instead wants to make a film that is more important, that makes a grand statement about the human condition, and that can educated the public. His producers aren’t too happy about this and try to persuade him it’s a bad idea. They tell him that he can’t make such a film, because he doesn’t know what it’s like to be part of the downtrodden and poor, and he only knows his own life. The director, Sullivan, agrees with this and thus decides to go out and live like a hobo for as long as necessary, again infuriating his producers, but Sullivan now has his mind set on going. So begins Sullivan’s travels, where he dresses up like a hobo (or what he perceives to be a hobo) and tries to live with the poor. However it turns out to be more difficult than he imagined, as he always ends up back in Hollywood and back at his huge mansion. Early on he meets a failed actress at a diner, the character played by Veronica Lake, and his directorial senses kick in, as he sees something in her, while she just assumes he’s a hobo. However he can’t really hide who he is, and she soon finds out who he really is and decides to go on his little adventure along with him.

What follows is a series of events where the two set out, but eventually end up back in comfort each time, failing to in any significant way to learn to live like the poor. But Sullivan is set on his goal, and the two keep on trying. I won’t reveal anymore of the story, as there are some excellent twists and turns to come later. The film is hilarious, working with slap-stick, brilliant dialogue and situations. There’s particularly an early sequence where Sullivan tries to evade a trailer that is following him everywhere (on the studio’s orders), and what follows is a riotous chase scene, where the trailer takes some significant damage. The dialogue is extremely sharp and witty, perhaps not to the same level as The Lady Eve, but it’s still excellent, and very funny. Even the opening scene where Sullivan discusses his art with the two buffoon producers is an early indication of what we’re about to get. As a reflection on Sturges and Hollywood itself, the film works as a really neat look into Hollywood of the time, and also what Sturges felt Hollywood was all about and why he did what he did. More so than any of Sturges’ film, Sullivan’s Travels really showcased why Sturges was such a unique filmmaker of his time.

Sullivan’s Travels, along with The Lady Eve, is the very best of what Sturges oeuvre had to offer. In terms of structure and creating a Meta universe Sullivan’s Travels is easily Sturges most impressive and interesting. The character arc particularly is very fascinating and shows how the director comes to realize what his craft and art is all about, and I wonder if Sturges used this film himself as therapy to his own art.

Christmas in July (Preston Sturges, 1940)

Christmas in July is another Preston Sturges comedy which also at times poses as a drama. It’s again a simple but heart-warming story, filled with wit and satire. It’s probably one of Sturges’ simplest films, and thus probably one of his least impressive. Still, it’s a neat little film which is really worth watching.

Jimmy MacDonald is a simple worker, who has a wonderful girlfriend, but he doesn’t have too much money and he dreams of bigger things. There is a competition from a coffee corporation where the person who comes up with the best commercial slogan wins a cash price of $50 000. So of course he wants it badly. However, the jury is stuck on their decision, and the announcement of the winner is postponed. Meanwhile, some of his working chumps decide to play a trick on him. They write a letter saying he is the winner of the big cash price, and he is easily fooled by this. What ensues is a chaos of misunderstandings and dramatic irony. The comedy works superbly on many levels. Few people in the film except the audience know what is really going on, making most of the cast look quite foolish. But we also worry about the protagonist, seeing the inevitable crushing disappointment when he eventually finds out it was all a big joke. We feel bad for the protagonist when he thinks he has won a huge cash price and goes nuts, but at the same time we can’t help but laugh at the predicament.

The film is also satirical, poking fun at American hysteria of the time and the search for wealth that is so predominant in the American psyche. But there is also a strong ring of truth in the film, and all the characters seem like real people with real goals, and not just caricatures. In the film’s most hilarious moments they might seem like such, but in the end these are deeply true issues, at least for the times. There are fun moments such as when the protagonist and his girlfriend goes on a shopping spree with his new earned money, or the quarrels between the upper stairs coffee corporation bureaucrats. The film ends on a somewhat ambiguous note, where the film shows us that we shouldn’t get our hopes up too much, but at the same time there is hope. I guess the theme of the film is that you shouldn’t put your hopes too much on a lottery, but trust your own skills and instincts to make something of yourself. It’s not bleak, but more of a cautionary tale.

I enjoyed Christmas in July, it’s a funny film that can bring your spirit up without being a complete feel good happy sell out. At its core it’s a frightening realistic film with some harsh truths about the world, but most importantly, it’s a very funny comedy with some great performances.

The Great McGinty (Preston Sturges, 1940)

The Great McGinty was the first of a series of films written and directed by Preston Sturges for Universal. After having written several successful films, Sturges managed to convince the studio to let him be Writer/Director on his next picture, something almost unheard of during that time in Hollywood. Sturges great run of films for Universal only ran for about four year, but in that time he carved an excellent body of work for which he is still fondly remembered today. Sturges had a lot of control over his own projects, and was able to create his own storytelling technique and personal stamp. The Great McGinty was the first in these series of films.

The story concerns Dan McGinty, a tough bum who lives on the streets, with only his name and no money. The film covers an impressive amount of time, where McGinty rises from bum to the Governor of the state, grabbing opportunities that comes him by. The film is essentially a political satire and comedy, showing how much of the inner workings of politics work. McGinty is played by Brian Donlevy, who does an excellent job. At first he seems like a fairly one-sided character, but as the film progresses so does the protagonist, and by the end he is almost unrecognizable from the person he was in the beginning, it’s a great character arc. What the film and its director do very well is creating a very engaging story that develops efficiently, and a main character through his brutal honesty is very easy to root for. There’s also a love interest, of course, but it doesn’t start quite like that. Initially the two are married in a scam marriage so McGinty can portray himself as a family man to the public, but as the story progresses they both start to fall in love with each other, although McGinty struggles at first to realize this, as he has to soften his tough exterior.

While McGinty grabs every opportunity he gets, he is not in control. He answers to the local mob boss, simply referred to as The Boss. They’re relationship is interesting, as they both hate each other from start to finish, yet both need each other to succeed. It’s both a humorous and volatile relationship. McGinty doesn’t have any moral compass or fears doing anything that might be considered wrong, but throughout the film he starts to build up a conscience, with no little influence from his wife. As a politician he is very much a man who impresses with big projects, but doesn’t really care for “the little guy”. However he soon starts to see the errors of his ways. For a film that is less than 80 minutes, the film really has an epic time span and character arc that really convincingly transforms the character. It’s really fascinating to see the journey that McGinty goes through, and the film arrives at a satisfactory, although not particularly happy, ending. Sturges visual style is simple but effective, and it is impressive how quickly and effectively he manages to tell the story.

The Great McGinty is an excellent first effort from Sturges as a writer/director. The story is simple yet epic. The characters are interesting and the humor is spot on. It’s a great political satire akin to Mr. Smith goes to Washington, but with less sentimentality and more sting. It also boasts some of the ensemble cast that would become a standard fare in all of Preston Sturges films.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

To Have and Have Not (Howard Hawks, 1944)

My Bogart ranting will go on. As I mentioned earlier, the combination of Howard Hawks and Humphrey Bogart is a great mix indeed. I loved The Big Sleep, and was equally looking forward to seeing this, which was the first to feature the legendary relationship of Bogart and Bacall. I’m now not sure which I like better, this or The Big Sleep, because they are both great, but have very different qualities that makes them classics.

To Have and Have Not in many ways remind me of Casablanca. It’s a love story in a foreign country. But while I still think Casablanca is a better film, the romance itself is better here. The chemistry between Bogart and Bacall sparks, and they have a wonderful, teasing and a little hostile relationship. Bacall was at the time of filming 19 years old, which is almost unbelievable. She is truly a natural, and seemed bound for the screen. Particularly the gaze she gives Bogart, with her head tilted and staring at him, is literally imprinted in my head. Across the film there is also a good cast of characters that give the two stars something to bounce off, and it works. Still, while The Treasure of the Sierra Madre was very different from most Hollywood, this was more formulaic. This is saved however by Hawks’ compelling and unique directing, which IS different from most other film directors at the time. He has a fairly detached style, using little overdramatic music, refraining from using too much editing and close-ups. Coupled with wonderful lighting this creates some scenes that individually are some of the best of the director’s work, and it stands quite close to his other great work The Big Sleep.

Some of the parts of the film that works less well are the suspense parts. This is in part due to the fact that the romance itself takes a front seat, with a lot of the main story just working as a backdrop for the scenes between Bogart and Bacall. That is in a way fine, but I wished the film didn’t contain this and just focused on creating a drama between Bogart and Bacall, which could have been fantastic. The story elements aren’t really that interesting compared to this, and as such the film feels a bit unnecessarily fractured. We don’t really care if someone else survives, as long as the romance does. But this is compelling enough to keep the rest of the film going, and the fracture never ruins the film. In fact, as a whole the film is still very good, but doesn’t hold up to its similar Casablanca. Actually I should re-watch Casablanca soon. Anyway, the film as a whole was very pleasing, and in many ways I’m just nit-picking. But there is a fairly good reason why this didn’t receive the same legendary status as many of the other Bogart films, because it lacks that little extra quality, but it still stands as a classic from the Hollywood golden age.

I was maybe a tad disappointed with this, but then again, the more you dig through films the lower the quality is going to get, although the pay-off is that once in a while you’ll stumble across something unique and fantastic. To Have and Have Not is not this, however, it does stand on its own, firstly because it is a genuinely interesting love story, second because of Hawks’ wonderful directing, and thirdly as it was the first film that introduced the Bogart – Bacall dynamic.

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (John Huston, 1948)

John Huston and Humphrey Bogart seem to be a good team, just as well as Howard Hawks and Humphrey Bogart was. I liked The Maltese Falcon a lot, and was one of my first experiences with the golden age of Hollywood. However, all the good things I was expecting from The Treasure of the Sierra Madre couldn’t prepare me for the experience I was in for. Because this film is probably the best of the old Hollywood, and stands as Bogart’s best performance together with In a Lonely Place, and is probably Huston’s best directing and writing job.

The story is simple, three men out of luck far away from home pool their money together and decide to dig for gold and make their fortune. But soon the paranoia and treachery kicks in. This is expanded by Huston’s tight directing, building up the tension throughout the great dialogue scenes. It is also helped by the great performance by Bogart. Bogey won the Oscar for The African Queen, but I cannot understand how he wasn’t even nominated for this role, as it is one of his seminal best. The theme of greed is studied mostly throughout the film, but it also explores how people can turn at and to each other as the situation defines the relationship. The wilderness seem to create both tranquillity and madness, all depending on ones character, although the film empathises that no one is truly evil, but anyone can fall. The films main strength is the building of tension, social tension and thrilling tension, such as the shootout scenes. This is not a western though, although it shares some of its traits. The film works more as a social drama though, and in this part it is riveting. The film was also shot on locations, and although some scenes are obviously shot in a studio, this gives the film some charm and builds the atmosphere of the wild quite well.

Of the early Hollywood films, this one is quite bleak, and hasn’t got all of the established norms of a typical Hollywood film. There is no love interest, the characters aren’t necessarily relatable and we aren’t given access to their thoughts as much as we usually are privileged. This again helps to build the tension, as one can never be quite sure who to trust. The ending is also fairly dark, and very uncharacteristic for most of these types of film. Bogart’s role is also unusual for him. Although he had become the star anti-hero, his character here is more ambiguous than before, and is not the smooth talking detective many had loved him for being. But what makes the film so great is the simplicity of it all, and it is extremely watch able, while still retaining depth and subtlety. Bogart also has throughout the years since his golden days become somewhat typecast in the heads of modern audiences, but here he proves really what sort of an icon he was. He’s unafraid of the challenges the film gives his character, unafraid of doing something quite different from what made him famous, and needs credit for this. He is quickly becoming my favourite actor. But while I do love Bogart for his body of work, the success of this film should be unanimously credited to writer and director John Huston. I liked some of his films I’ve seen, but never grew to love him before now, he truly transcends time and filmmaking with this wonderfully crafted film.

One of my new favourite films, what else can be said, it is wonderful in every way. The acting, the writing, the cinematography and directing meld together into an intriguing, simple, yet subtle film which shows how great filmmaking will always shine through, and never grow old. This film certainly never will.

The Red Shoes (Powell and Pressburger, 1948)

Seeing a lot of great films is nothing new to me. I attempt to watch as many good films as possible, which tends to make my choices about what films to see quite picky. I don’t mind spending time watching an average film, but I always prefer to watch something good that will give me more knowledge of cinema. But every once in a while, I see a film that is beyond great, a film that truly captures my senses and creates vivid images that convey meaning in a simple yet intricate way. The more you see film the less impressed you will get by watching new films, because you will come to a point where most films you see you can say “I’ve seen this before”, even though the film might be quite good. This is one of the things that make watching cinema worthwhile, discovering films that blow you away, that stand as a fantastic piece of art on the screen.

So is the case with The Red Shoes, the second film I’ve seen by Powell and Pressburger. I was quite impressed with the imaginative A Matter of Life and Death (Powell and Pressburger, 1946), but this film just takes their craft to a whole other level. The story is that of a ballet company, most importantly the director of that company, Boris Lermontov, excellently played by Anton Walbrook. Usually it isn’t such a good idea for a film to lean too much on a character, but here it works wonders. In fact, it is even hard to call Lermontov the protagonist of the film, it is more of an ensemble piece, but his character is so vital to the film and puts it in a certain direction that you cannot underestimate the importance of this character. That’s one of the things I loved the most, Walbrook’s character. He believes in suffering and sacrificing oneself to ones art, and obviously he comes into conflict with the other characters. But it is the devotion and crushing belief he puts into his faith that makes it all the more powerful, and avoids making him an antagonist, which could easily have happened. There is almost a paradox in the film, you will be brought almost to despise the character for his coldness towards others, at the same time you cannot stop admiring him. I think that most artists would like to be just like him, but few are wilful or strong enough. He is probably one of the most fascinating characters I’ve ever seen on the screen, and makes the film extremely memorable for me. I know it is subjective, and a lot of audiences will feel that he is nothing but a cold hearted brute, but for me he remains one of the most interesting and melancholic characters of cinema.

Now, the film would have been great with just this character, but there is so much more. What I cannot forget to mention is the fantastic 15 minutes long ballet sequence, which is also some of the most impressive I’ve seen in cinema, and reminds me quite a bit of A Matter of Life and Death. It starts off as a straight theatre scene shot with a camera, but slowly starts to become much more cinematic and stunning. This sequence captures some of the most indefinable and beautiful moments in cinema, and works extremely well in the context of the themes. The rest of the film is also very well shot, particularly when it moves around in different locations. This DVD is from the same Powell & Pressburger collection from which I saw A Matter of Life and Death, and in contrast to that version, this looks quite good, fairly sharp images, and the sound is good, which it better be considering how important music is to the film. Indeed, the music is another critical point which makes this film so good. It is relevant to the narrative, and has several thematic ideas. Most films just use it for simple emotional purposes, but here it is put to use the right way, much like La Pianiste (Michael Haneke, 2001). While the film aesthetically centres on ballet, the film is in its core about all art. What does it mean to be an artist and what one has to sacrifice? The film is not afraid to ask any of these questions, but keeps the answer ambiguous to the end credits, and leaves the audience to contemplate what they have just seen.

There are so many memorable scenes, so many great aspects about this film, but in the end what I will remember it the most for is the character Lermontov and the fantastic performance by Anton Walbrook. I have never heard of him or seen him in anything else, but through this film he will probably haunt my thoughts as one of the most problematic and fascinating characters in cinema history. The rest of the film? Just fantastic.

Ossessione (Luchino Visconti, 1943)

Ossessione was given this release by the BFI (British Film Institute). I live right outside London, and I would like to go in there, visit the BFI and slap someone to stop them releasing DVDs. On the back of every BFI DVD there says: “The British Film Institute offers you the opportunities to experience, enjoy and discover more about the world of film and television.” Now alright, that’s great. However, every BFI release I own is very bad. Including Ossessione I also own La Terra Trema (Luchino Visconti, 1948) and La Règle du jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939). La Règle du Jeu had a lot of the same problems as Ossessione, very bad picture transfer, and maybe more importantly, horrible sound transfer. The sound isn’t given any depth or clarity, and often comes across as dull, when it shouldn’t be. Seriously, BFI, it’s great that you want people to discover unknown cinema, but unless you start making some decent releases please leave it to the professionals such as Masters of Cinema.

Now, despite its horrible release, Ossessione stands as one of the most impressive pieces of cinema that I have ever seen. It is made even more impressive by the fact that this was Visconti’s first feature film. I have always been partial to the whole notion of the Italian neo-realism, but more than any Italian director than I can think of Visconti encapsulates these ideals to their fullest. Visconti manages to give even the simplest of shots several layers of meanings, he captures here better than few places I’ve seen the intangible sadness of human existence. I will say now, Ossessione is a masterpiece, and stands as one of the finest examples of Italian neo-realism. His acute sense of directing and pacing, the wonderful framing and composing of his images, it all works extremely well here, and if I were to show aspiring filmmakers a debut film by a famous director to show how it’s done, I would show Ossessione. I did like the films of De Sica a lot, but Ossessione goes beyond them. I am wondering exactly why De Sica is more famous than Visconti. He is a fine director and made his own masterpieces, and true, I haven’t seen many of Visconti’s films, but this really stands the test of time. It shows how excellent directing can transcend its time and become immortal, this film puts most contemporary films to shame. One of the things that impressed me was how much information Visconti could place within a shot, how he could foreshadow and give us vital information about the characters in just a simple shot or a sequence of shots. This is the kind of filmmaking I am always looking for in films, managing to convey themes and information in simple shots. To illustrate a bad example, let’s take the film I last watched, Sabrina (Billy Wilder, 1954). There is a shot of Sabrina in a tree, watching a wonderful party in the house, where the love of her life is dancing with another woman. We then see that she is upset. Now this is fine, and conveys all the information we need to know in a sequence of simple shots. Good directing. However, soon her dad comes along, tells her to get down from the tree, and tells her to forget all about that guy. Now this is bad, because it simplifies too much. He didn’t need to say this to give us information, and the film lowers the standard of the audience. Ossessione avoids these things by leaving what needs to be said to the camera, and not the dialogue.

Not since watching the Apu trilogy by Satyajit Ray have I been so excited over the idea of neo-realism. Visconti captures the ordinary in a fundamental way, and creates meaning through his images. He keeps the aspect of the real alive, while yet utilizing the craft of the camera, a thing a lot of directors, Italian then and contemporary now, needs to learn. The film is based on the book The Postman only Rings Twice, but I am not familiar with this story, although I know it was also made into an American film. Anyway, the story is fairly simple and straightforward, but Visconti manages to evoke some powerful ideas and themes through his directing. A lonely woman lives with her unattractive and old husband, and one day a vagabond comes along who she is immediately attracted to, and he to her. The film from here on is about their relationship, which is far from perfect and takes many twists and turns. It’s the core of the film, and the characters state of mind is constantly under pressure and they have to contemplate guilt and how they relate to each other. There is a marvellous shot in the beginning of the film where the protagonist enters the kitchen where the lonely wife is. He is framed by the doorway, but is blocking most of what we see of the wife. The only part of her we see is her legs (she is sitting on a table). This very simple shot conveys so much about the current situation, what is going to happen, and the immediate relationship between the characters. It is an impressive shot, not because of its technicality, but how it simply conveys so much in just a few seconds. This is the brilliance of Visconti, and one of the key things that makes Ossessione such a great film. I really wish I had a better version of this, maybe Criterion or Masters of Cinema will do Visconti’s early films at one point. It’s something to hope for anyway, I’ve got the Criterion version of Le Notti Bianche (Luchino Visconti, 1957), and that is very good. Masters of Cinema also released Rocco e i suoi fratelli (Luchino Visconti, 1960), and I am looking forward to seeing that. Despite all the problems though, Visconti’s direction managed to shine through, which further impresses me.

Ossessione is a masterpiece, simple as that. It is probably one of the best films I’ve seen of the Italian neo-realism movement. The shots that build the film up are fantastic, the drama feels true and resonates, the actors manage to convey with simple acting methods. Early Visconti is not that famous, but I hope more and more will see this early film, because it is simply just as good as or better than Ladri di biciclette (Vittorio De Sica, 1948). People talk a lot about Visconti, but I’ve heard few references to this film, with De Sica a lot of people talk about him and at the same time there is a lot of reference to his most famous films. But I like De Sica a lot as well, though, but Visconti seems to be pushing the envelope even more.

The Big Sleep (Howard Hawks, 1946)

Though talking gangsters, beautiful women, a lot of cigarettes and alcohol, twists and turns. The noir genre of the classical Hollywood period created some of the best films around. While noir has many common denominators, there is a surprising amount of variety in the genre. It is hard to specifically pin down what makes a noir film, but when you see one, you know it is a noir. There hasn’t been many good noirs since the fall of the Golden era of Hollywood, but a couple, such as Chinatown (Roman Polanski, 1974) and the interesting mix of noir and sci-fi Blade Runner (Ridley Scott, 1982). One of the things that signified the noir genre for me was the moody and atmospheric black and white cinematography. I love black and white cinematography, and much of this in Hollywood reached its peak in the noir genre.

When watching these old Humphrey Bogart films I get more and more sympathetic to the character in A Bout de Souffle (Jean-Luc Godard, 1959). He mimics and idealizes the old screen legend, but ends up very differently to his hero. There is always a great presence when Bogart is on screen. He was fantastic in In a Lonely Place (Nicholas Ray, 1950), where he manages to create some indefinable menace behind his eyes. While many today think that Bogart for the most part was typecast and didn’t have much width in his work, they are wrong. But it is easy to see why he often was cast as a tough talking detective, because he does it so incredibly well. At the same time, he captures something truthful and weaker behind his character, which almost always gives the films he play in extra depth. Before I got to know Bogart’s acting well, when I had just seen Casablanca, he was this sort of caricature character who was somehow not relatable and unreachable. However, with the years and the more films I’ve seen with him, it becomes more apparent why he holds the status as one of the greatest actors in Hollywood. But again, In a Lonely Place was the film that made me realize what a great actor he was. It is actually quite an underrated and fairly unknown film, but it is fantastic, and I absolutely recommend it to anyone who likes Bogart or classic Hollywood films.

The Big Sleep plays on mood, like a lot of other noir films. It is quite gritty, often shot at night. The cinematography isn’t conventionally beautiful, but works superbly, enhancing the feeling of decadence in the society that it portrays. Bogart is a private detective who gets a job to find out a blackmailer. However, from the first 10 minutes of the film the plot becomes almost hazardously complicated. It is okay though, because if you can to some moderate degree follow the plot then you will probably enjoy it. The power of the film is rather in the craft, the wonderful dialogue, and great chemistry between Bogart and Bacall. Much to my own surprise, I’ve never seen a Howard Hawks film before, but this was a great introduction. I was sure that I had seen a film by him, but as it turned out I haven’t. The film is properly dark and contains a lot of sexual sub-text, which make it all the more interesting. I do believe also that this probably was quite racy for its time, although by today’s standards it is not. But the darkness and grittiness still remains. Bogart is also not some superman, and does get beaten up quite a lot. But he uses mostly his intelligence instead of a gun. The dialogue is one of the best elements of the film though. It is witty but manages to put a lot of sub-text in there. It is proper stylized Hollywood type of dialogue, but I love it. It is much better crafted than screenplays which pretend to emulate “reality”. What’s the point of replicating reality when it is right out your window?

I loved The Big Sleep. It’s well executed on many different levels, Bogart is fantastic, the plot is way too crazy but it all fits in, and although you at the end might have some unanswered questions, you won’t really care anyway, because it doesn’t matter. Howard Hawk’s directing is precise and to the point. He doesn’t dwell and leaves little to be desired. I think I’ll watch the original Scarface sometime.

A Matter of Life and Death (Powell and Pressburger, 1946)

It’s funny how when you delve into cinema there are some areas that you miss, and I’m not talking about some obscure Russian film from the 1930’s, but obvious classics and filmmakers that just go right above your head. The longer you go into the water, the deeper it gets and there is never enough time to see it all. I am sometimes ashamed at how few films I’ve actually seen and the lack of depth in my knowledge on cinema. The Powell and Pressburger duo is very famous and legendary, but it wasn’t until fairly recently that I for the first time heard of them, and decided to the get the Powell & Pressburger box set that contained 11 of their films. The first in line was A Matter of Life and Death, and when I saw the poster for it I immediately remembered it from the 1001 Films You Must See Before You Die book. I was anxious to see what sort of cinema this British duo might have to offer.

Technically speaking, this is one of the films I’ve been the most impressed with. Not in the way, oh say, Star Wars was impressive for its use of special effects, but how inventive and well implemented. The opening scene is fantastic, and the set-pieces are wonderfully created. It just shows you that truly creative and ambitious people are behind the process. But I’ve always stressed narrative over technical stuff, so lets just get down to it. A Matter of Life and Death is a fairly standard boy meets girl story, but has a compelling twist that makes the film truly original and imaginative. The protagonist played by David Niven has barely escaped a flight crash during WW2, and meets an American woman played by Kim Hunter. They fall in love at an instant, fairly classical way. However, shortly into the film it turns out that the protagonist was supposed to die, but because of the heavy fog that day the person from “up there” who was going to get him missed him. Now he has come to reclaim the protagonist, but he refuses, claiming that the time he was given made him fall in love, and now it is unreasonable to take him back. This opens for a very interesting and different story, which constantly raises questions in the audiences head, whether this messenger from “up there” is just a part of the protagonist’s imagination, or if he is real. There is no quite correct answer, and I believe many audiences will be split in two.

A Matter of Life and Death is a good example of how you take a trite old cliché and turn it around and make it wonderful and imaginative. The twist in the plot makes the film all the more memorable for the audience, and seals its place as a classic. But it’s not just the film being original, but the solid script and directing which makes the film very enjoyable to watch. There is quite a bit of hidden and non-hidden humour in there, one of my favourite characters was the French person ordered to bring the protagonist back “up there”. The film is shot in both colour and black & white; earth in colour and “up there” in black and white. This contrast is nice, and it opens up for a bit of interpretation. This is similar to Wim Wender’s Der Himmel Über Berlin (1987), where from the point of view of the angels the world is black and white, but when the angel comes to the world of the living it is in colour. What I felt was important about this was the certain coldness there was to “up there”, almost sterile. “Up there” is also only filmed on a set, so there is a purposeful hard architecture to the place, which makes earth seem all the livelier.

Seeing as I bought a box containing 11 films, I shouldn’t expect too much from the quality of the picture. However, I was a bit let down. For example, in one of the earliest scenes there are to images juxtaposed, one of David Niven and one of Kim Hunter. While the shot of Niven is fine and sharp, the shot of Hunter is quite blurry and unfocused, which I am sure was not the intention of the filmmakers. There is also a scene where the French person who is coming to get the protagonist is arriving on earth. He looks around him on the beautiful colours which are otherwise absent where he lives. This scene should have been beautiful, but the colours on the transfer are all horrible, there is a lot of wrong mixing of colours and the edges of the screen are very burnt out with some ugly orange colour. While the box set was cheap and I probably shouldn’t complain about such an extensive collection, I do feel a bit annoyed when great films don’t get the transfer they deserve. Graininess and not to sharp picture quality are not too bad, which is why black and white films usually get the best transfers, but in my book bad transfer of colour is unforgivable. Just look at the horrible quality of Dersu Uzala (Akira Kurosawa, 1975), the colours should have been so sharp and radiant, but instead they are blurred together and don’t spark that much. In contrast, a great transfer can make brilliant results, like the Cinema Reserve version of The Fly (David Cronenberg, 1986), where the colours are absolutely beautiful and crystal clear.

If you are going to check this out, I would recommend you to get a better version than I did. Still, I only spent something above £10 and still have 10 films left to see, so it isn’t too bad. Lately I’ve seen a couple of marvellous films, and this goes right into that category. The narrative is wonderful and imaginative, the cinematography is good (although it could have been better in a better DVD release), and the acting is good, although some of the lesser characters steal the show. The sets and some of the special effects are amazing, not just in a technological sense, but in the artfulness and wonderful execution and implementation of them. Very memorable, one of the best British films I’ve seen.

Ladri di biciclette (Vittorio De Sica, 1948)

Sometimes late last year I watched Rome, Open City (Roberto Rossellini, 1945) and was quite disappointed, seeing as it was such a classic. The emotion and story just felt hollow, and it made me feel ambivalent towards Italian neo-realist films. One of the major problems was the lack of subtlety and documentary touch that instead of making it feel real made it fake. I'm not very familiar with these kind of films, although I did love Umberto D. (Vittorio De Sica, 1952). So, I decided to get The Bicycle Thieves by the same director, to see if this could sway my opinion again about these neo-realist films, and it certainly did. While leaning towards social-realism, the film is still cinematic and manages to convey emotions and subtle psychological drama. I don't really enjoy the idealistic aspects of neo-realism, preferring the more distanced and stylized approach of directors like Godard, although he admittedly was very influenced by neo-realism. I guess I just didn't like the approach of Rossellini, at least compared to De Sica, although I should probably continue to explore these directors and this tradition, to get a clearer view.


The story is a simple one, and since I like going to a film not knowing anything about the general story-line, I will not spoil it for the reader who hasn't seen Bicycle Thieves yet. Suffice to say, the film is great at conveying emotion and a slight touch of melodrama, portraying the difficult life of working class families in post-war Rome. One difference that I liked about De Sica's films is that they seem to focus on the individual's struggle, while Rome, Open City had a much more collective view, giving us a look at several different characters. De Sica gives us the story and troubles of one man and his family, and the film I feel is much more concise, and also an interesting psychological portrayal of the character, through some wonderful cinematic sequences. The film uses fairly usual cinematic techniques, but merges them with the down-to-earth everyday life of Rome, and while never becoming melodramatic, does have a fair bit of drama. The realism is gritty while at the same time the film has a fairly clean look to it, more than you would expect from a neo-realistic film. The craft is good, and I really feel De Sica already is an experienced filmmaker and storyteller.




You can also sense a bit of criticism and ideas on cinema in this film, as the poor main character hangs up posters of the latest Rita Hayworth film (Gilda I believe, quite a good film in it's own right), clearly condemning Hollywood, the film juxtapositions the impoverished Rome and the glamor of Hollywood. De Sica also seems to target the government and cynicism of Italy at the time, showing the suffering of normal people. What I liked about Bicycle Thieves though was that, unlike Rome, Open City, does not hammer us with it's moral, but rather leaves it in the background, there's no clear statement of intent, but rather a sigh at the state of Italy. The film has some wonderful ups and downs, but remains fairly bleak, leaving a big question mark at how the main characters are going to survive.


With the experience of Rome, Open City, I actually didn't expect this to be great, but it was. A wonderful film full of life, a compromise compared to Rome, Open City, but is genuinely downbeat and sad, while still retaining moments of happiness and hope. Wonderful.