Diner (Barry Levinson, 1982)

There are some films you just love to watch because they are so pleasurable in a way only you can relate to. This is what I felt about Diner, anyway. It’s a film that takes us back to those much simpler times of America, the late 50s, where everyone has a groovy car, the youth culture of the 60s still seem millions of years away, and the sweet tunes of Frank Sinatra filled the airwaves. I love this time period on film, and it was particularly well portrayed in American Graffiti. Diner also has this, although somewhat more tunes down. But what else does it have, besides a bit of classic Americana? There are actually quite interesting characters in this film, and it is a wonderful collaboration of some talented actors and fine directing.

This is the kind of films that Hollywood should make, although sadly they don’t anymore. It is a fairly low-key piece, but with some wonderful characterizations and performances, as well as entertaining scenes of the guys just hanging out. Most of the cast weren’t that famous when this film was made, but have gone on to become big names, such as Steve Guttenberg, Daniel Stern, Mikey Rourke (Jesus Christ, he looks absolutely nothing like he does in The Wrestler, talk about aging badly) and Kevin Bacon. The cast does a wonderful job as the film jumps between their different stories and problems. In a way it’s a coming of age story, or a “get off your ass and come of age” story. All the characters are on the edge of being youngsters and adulthood, one is married and one is getting married. They all love to relax at the local diner, where they more often than not spend their time, just chatting and wasting their time. Despite its set up, the film manages really well to avoid melodramatics and emotionalism. One good example is the Eddie character who is getting married. Although he likes his fiancé, he will only marry her on the condition that she passes a quiz on sports that he has devised, and it’s quite a grueling one as well. The characters are trapper between the infantile and adulthood, and the film captures this quite wonderfully. Another example is the character Shrevie, who goes mental when he finds out his wife has somewhat mixed up his tightly organized collection of records, to the point that she starts crying and contemplates cheating on him. At the end the character’s don’t really achieve any sort of conclusion, so the film is more like a slice of life film, but wonderfully convoluted in its own right.

The film does really well in dramatizing and characterizing the characters, so by the end you truly feel like you know these people. The most interesting character for me was Bacon’s character, Fenwick, who is quite possibly mad, but also some sort of quiz genius. He is the most “lost” of all the characters, and his story arc is left the most open, there doesn’t really seem to be much to hope for in his character. Yet all these characters live through their life with the support of each other, but as I said, the film wonderfully avoids sentimentalism. There isn’t any hugging or “I love ya man”, but a strong fundamental male bond between these characters, and it’s one of the things that really gives the film its quality. The film is also really well paced, exploring each of the characters stories in its own time, dwelling on their problems and issues. It takes a sit back, and just explores the lives of the characters. In this fast paced modern world of hyper block buster films, I found it incredibly refreshing. But all the emotional scenes are handled extremely classy, and the observations are captured with a sense of joy and discovery, and it really does make the films world come alive vividly. The time period is captured really well, although I would say that American Graffiti captured it even better. But Diner is an important film, it’s a film where you can kick back and enjoy, but it’s just not a popcorn film, but has more depth to it. The end, while not overall positive, leaves you with a warm feeling. There might be uncertainty in the future, but there’s always the brightness of friendship and closeness.

I thoroughly enjoyed Diner. It’s a fine film and a character piece, exploring the lives of five young men in crisis. It has great moments and dialogue, and most importantly, when it is over you will truly know its characters, and feel like you’ve been close to them. It’s a positive film, overall, but the ending and message is more complex than that. It could be compared to American Graffiti, but I would characterize Diner as American Graffiti’s older and somewhat more sophisticated cousin. However, both are great movies.

My Dinner with Andre (Louis Malle, 1981)

My Dinner with Andre is famous for being a film just about two guys sitting and talking in a restaurant. And this is true, for about 100 minutes it’s just conversation at the table, nothing else. It’s an interesting concept, and of course Louis Malle is an excellent director, but does it work? Does the film manage to create a meaning and story even though it has such limited range? Or is it just a pretentious experiment that doesn’t really hold any value in cinema?

The set up is simple enough; a failing playwright is invited to dinner by his estranged friend Andre, who used to be a very successful theatre director. The two primary cast members are Wallace Shawn and Andre Gregory, both playing fictionalized versions of themselves. At first it’s a though movie to take, the camera is fixed on Andre as he talks about his recent exploits. However, after 20 or 30 minutes it really starts to drag you in, almost in a hypnotic way. In the beginning I was watching the timer, but at the end it felt as if it was over in no time. The audience becomes very much a part of the conversation; we share the perspective of Wallace, who does most of the listening, although towards the end he has a couple of things to say for himself. The film touches upon issues of how society works and the masks we wear. Do we really live our lives in a real way? The film forces the audience to confront these issues, although Andre can sound a bit high and mighty at times. Wallace very much grounds us down, emphasizing the little things in life that have value.

Both cast members do a good job, although there isn’t really that much dramatic material to deal with. The conflict works on a very intellectual level, but there’s definitely some conflict there between the two, although it’s all quite polite. Louis Malle was the director and I can see the challenge in the project that might have drawn him to it. However, he does a fine job, keeping it simple and slick. The atmosphere in the restaurant, although subdued in the background, adds a decent layer to the film and the issues that are being talked about. By the end it feels like time has stopped and is suddenly started again, when the characters realize that the once full restaurant is now empty. The film leaves you with a taste, a pondering. This is where I find the major strength of the film lies. You leave the film feeling richer or perhaps poorer and despairing, depending on your point of view. It’s an intimate conversation about deep human emotions, and we’re allowed to see it all. It’s not just a question of audiences listening, but we also have to participate, giving our own mental notes and discerning what really is behind the character of Andre. It might drag in the beginning, but at the end it works marvelously well.

Whether or not someone likes My Dinner with Andre is purely a matter of taste. There is certainly something to be had here, and many will find it a wonderful movie, but if you decide to turn it off in the first 20 minutes and never pay the film any mind ever again, I would certainly not hold it against you.

Re-Animator (Stuart Gordon, 1985)

Well, what a treat this film was. It’s classic body horror of the 80s to the fullest, with bodily transgression, cheap sexual thrills and lots and lots of gore. It’s the classic tale of a mad scientist who takes his research too far, and jeopardizes the lives of those around him. In many ways it is the modern (or modern in the 80s, anyway) Frankenstein story. However, when it comes to gore, there are few films of the time which were more excessive than this, but the film revels in its gore, and manages to not take itself too seriously. It’s a visceral journey that is meant to be enjoyed, whether you scream or laugh.

One of the good things about the film is that it centers itself on two scientists, instead of one. There’s the mad, socially inept genius Herbert West, then there is the more reasonable but also curious Dan. Both are students, but both, West in particular, are starting to grow past their teachers. It works well because West is so alienating that the audience would have had a hard time sticking up for him. He’s rude, has little conscience, and basically doesn’t care for other people. However, he needs the help of Dan, who is a much more likeable and normal character. Although their very different, they both see the use in West’s study and research. West has designed a formula that can re-animate dead tissue or beings. However, of course it comes with the nasty side effect that anything re-animated goes mad due to the pain of coming back to life, although both characters seem fairly unconcerned about this throughout the film, which I found strange. After all, what’s the purpose of a serum that can bring people back to life if it makes them crazy? Anyway, shit hits the fan before any of the characters can study further into this. One of the professors turns out to be quite an evil and sadistic bastard, and he will do anything to take credit for the serum himself. The Herbert West character becomes more and more fascinating as the film goes on. For a long time the audience cannot be sure of whether or not he is evil or good. Is he really such a jerk, or just a decent guy who is really obsessed about his work and research? Jeffrey Combs who plays West does a good job at playing with these ambiguities, and until the very end of the film we can’t quite be sure where he stands.

The film is famous for its many set-pieces. The film is incredibly playful and creative, creating crazy situations and visuals that are sure to stick in the audiences minds for a long time. The gore is unprecedented, but never really mean or callous in the same way as the recent Saw films. The film just wants to have a good time, and it brings us along. There are many cathartic moments of transgression that are truly joyful, but also moments that makes you want to cringe because they are so uncomfortable. The film is relatively short, and doesn’t have a moment that isn’t interesting, whether it is playing with the ambiguity of West’s character, creating suspense or just creating havoc on the screen with gore. So it’s a very dense film, and it goes a long way to making it re-watchable. That said, the film is not for the weak spirited. Although the film revels in the gore with an almost childlike fascination, if the audience doesn’t like gore then this film won’t change their opinion, actually more likely it would change it for the worse. Safe to say, if you don’t like gory horror films from the 80s, then there is very little on offer from Re-Animator. That being said, Re-Animator is one of the best films of its kind, and I found it immensely enjoyable. It doesn’t have the darkness of The Thing or the sophistication of Alien, but it takes all the great elements from classic gore films and puts it into one film, creating a wonderful mix of a special effects extravaganza and the all out fun of the 80s horror genre.

If you like the classic horror films of the 80s and haven’t seen this, then you need to see it. It’s one of the best of its kind and offers great re-watch value. It also a great film to watch with a bunch of like-minded friends if you want to have a night of laughs, and would work perfectly as a double bill with Evil Dead 2, or indeed the whole trilogy. I’ll definitely check out the sequels to Re-Animator, so maybe I’ll talk about those later.

Sadgati (Satyajit Ray, 1981)

Well, it’s been quite some time since the last post. This is also the 100th post on this blog! Wee! Alright, let’s get on with it.

Sadgati, or Deliverance, is a fairly short film by Satyajit Ray, running at only 45 minutes. However, it is a great example of some of Ray’s best touches and skills, as well as a fine short film in its own right. The story is straight forward, and even though I didn’t understand all the Indian customs and what they implied, the character motivation and desire is very clear.

The story follows Dukhi, a tanner who wants help from a local Brahmin, or holy man, to set a date for his daughter’s wedding. However, it turns out that this “holy man” is somewhat of a lazy bastard, and only through doing some meaningless chores around the house can Brahmin get him to come to his house. Meanwhile, the film cuts back to the home where his wife and daughter are carefully preparing for the Brahmin who they believe will soon turn up. Dukhi does all the chores the Brahmin ask of him, but one is too hard to complete: he has to cut up a log outside the house. However, the log is huge and he only has a small axe. The majority of the film is Dukhi trying to cut up this log, as well as some more scenes with the daughter and wife, as well as a look into the Brahmin’s inner life.

What the film does well, and Ray usually does exceptionally well, is to create such strong drama to small events. It is a simple story and the progression is fairly conservative, but Ray manages to create genuine emotions and a comment on the human condition through this little fable. It’s what really makes Ray such a unique filmmaker. Although this film, much because of its limited playing time, is not quite up to par with his other major films, it has all the touches and elements that makes Ray great, but is worth seeing in its own right, not just because it is a Ray film. It takes a simple set up and runs with it. The emotional impact of the end, and some of Ray’s camerawork, is truly excellent. There are also great moments of subtle comedy, like the first time Dukhi sees the log, walks around it mystified, and you know he’s thinking “what the fuck do I do with this?” Or when he goes into the house of the Brahmin to ask for light for his smoke, and the Brahmin’s wife becomes furious “how dare a commoner ask such things!?” Another great moment is where a young man who is mourning over his dead wife comes to the Brahmin for advice. The Brahmin says it’s okay, he can always get a new wife. He himself is already on his third!

The DVD version I have came with The Satyajit Ray Collection Volume 3 box set. I have yet to see the other two, but I will soon though. I would like to recommend the volume 1 & 2 box sets, as well as the Apu Trilogy box set, they all have fantastic value, and Ray is truly one of the greats of world cinema. Like Kurosawa said, not to have seen the cinema of Ray is like never having seen the sun or the moon. Go check him out.

Nostalghia (Andrey Tarkovsky, 1983)

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

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

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

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

Dead Ringers (David Cronenberg, 1988)

Following my new dive into Cronenberg’s films, I watched Dead Ringers, a title I have no idea what is supposed to mean, and after watching it still have no idea. But it doesn’t matter, for this was quite a good one, not the best, but very good, and it felt quite different from Cronenberg’s other films. I’m done now with watching Cronenberg films for a while, but I will surely come back for more.

While I complained about the acting in Scanners, that complain is overcompensated for here, and then some. Jeremy Irons does a fantastic job, and it is a pretty unusual role for him here. He plays both of two twins who work together as gynaecologists. At first, it seemed fake, both seemed like the same person. But as the film progressed, it dawned upon me that this was Cronenberg’s intention. As the plot develops, the two brothers grow more and more from each other, but in the beginning they are almost like one person. And as the film goes on, you start to see the difference between the two. It’s quite an astounding job by Irons, just in the poses and expressions he manages to completely separate the two characters, to the point where you don’t notice the fact that they are played by the same man, quite immaculate. It’s a hard film to pigeonhole, but I would say it is a disturbing dark comedy. Some scenes are very funny, particularly the opening scene. But it’s also very tragic. The two brothers, who most people can’t tell the difference, like to share the same women. When one of them falls in love with a particular woman, they start to drift apart, and having been so close for so many years, neither of them manages to handle this. It fascinating to see the development of the two characters, which in personality are quite different, but they seem to require being on the same wavelength mentally, and when one starts falling into depression, the other can’t handle it.

The film is chilling, and is shot unlike any other Cronenberg film I’ve ever seen. Particularly one scene in an operating theatre where the one brother brings along some disturbing instruments, but I don’t want to say anymore. Regardless, the film feels much more distanced than most Cronenberg films, perhaps not more than Naked Lunch, but still. The music though, I would say is just okay. The opening theme is quite good, but at times it feels somewhat overblown, and I wish Cronenberg would have let more room for silence, which I feel would have accompanied the directing very well. The ending sequence though is very good, some of the best cinema I’ve seen. Overall though, the film does suffer a bit from pacing, a couple of scenes here and there that could have been cut, it takes a while before you manage to see some of the better parts of the film. It starts really well, but then somewhere through the middle dabs off a bit, and gets really good at the end. It feels unsatisfying, and makes the really good stuff feel less impressive. Still, in many ways Jeremy Irons carries the film through its weaker parts.

Again, I want to commend Jeremy Irons for his impressive acting job, at times it truly seems like there are two separate actors. The film is very good, but as said, lacks in some departments. It is still one of the most interesting Cronenberg films I’ve seen, and is really a unique film with a style you don’t see too often. Well recommended, but might be disturbing at times.

Scanners (David Cronenberg, 1981)

I’m not quite sure what to say about this film. Really, I have no idea, after the really good film The Fly, this one felt much hollower, like I was missing something. It’s hard to describe, but everything that happened in this felt like it had no purpose. I was quite looking forward to this next Cronenberg film after watching The Fly, but was left quite disappointed.

Let me tell you the plot. A bunch of people are born with fearsome mental abilities, called “Scanners”, they can “scan” other people’s thoughts, and can also blow up their heads. A government body has been surveying these people for some time, but when they get too close to one of them, they die, because apparently there’s some mastermind scanner forming a sort of cult group. But then, from nowhere, a young scanner turns up who has powers beyond any other scanner, for some reason. This chap, by the way, is played by a guy called Stephen Lack, and I’m sure a piece of cardboard would have done an adequately good acting job compared to him. Cronenberg usually have really interesting and quirky actors in his films, note Jeff Goldblum in The Fly, or James Woods in Videodrome. I don’t necessarily believe that films need good acting, or any sort of conventional acting (see Jean-Luc Godard films), but in this type of films it usually help, and Stephen Lack is truly uninspired in this, and has about the same charisma as a burnt piece of toast. There are a couple of highlights in the film, but no saving graces. But I guess I might have lost whatever point Cronenberg tried to make, maybe there was some sort of sub-text I didn’t get. There’s a great scene in the beginning of the film where the protagonist, who is a bum, goes and eats discarded food at tables in a shopping mall, and the reactions of two elderly women who look disgusted at him. He sees them, hears their thoughts, and get one of the women to have a seizure. It’s actually a quite chilling sequence, and done right, but similar scenes where the scanners use their abilities mostly turns silly.

The cinematography is interesting though, slightly offbeat but really uses colours and shapes well. The synthetic soundtrack is also good, albeit slightly cheesy at times. The thing about Scanners is that I really can’t see the bigger picture in it, in many ways it’s similar to The Fly, but at the same time The Fly felt like it had a new way of presenting something, an interesting sub-plot in a ridiculous main-plot. My experience with science is rather limited, only three years of high school, but I can still point out tons of flaws and plot-holes in The Fly, but I didn’t let it detract from the story. In Scanners however, the plot and scientific explanations are so ridiculous and silly I just couldn’t let it go. Wait, he can hack computers using his scanner abilities? Come on!

To me, The Fly was a wonderful surprise, Scanners a sad disappointment. I might re-watch it someday, but for now, I’ll let it rot in my “forgotten” pile.

The Fly (David Cronenberg, 1986)

So this was an interesting pick, I’ve seen a couple of David Cronenberg films, two of which I consider masterpieces, namely Videodrome (1983) and Naked Lunch (1991), so I was interested in watching more of his films. This one I wasn’t to certain about, but I remember seeing an episode of The Simpsons which parodied this film, or rather, parodied the original The Fly (Kurt Neumann, 1958). I’ve not seen the original, but due to that episode I kind of knew the premise. But I was surprised, and I believe people who have seen the original will also be surprised, for this is a very unique film and David Cronenberg makes it his very own.

A slightly eccentric scientist invites a woman home to show her a project he has been working on for quite some time; a machine that will transport things from one chamber to another. She’s a journalist and decides to cover his research. Then they fall in love. One of the great things about The Fly is that it leads you to think it adheres to a lot of the 80’s clichés, but as the film unravels itself it also starts to shed the clichés, and I believe they were carefully planted by Cronenberg, because this is something beyond all those other 80’s films that we are way too familiar with. In speaking of genres, this is a horror film, but it does go beyond the genre, and is much harder to place. In many ways it’s also a tragic love story, as the protagonist starts morphing into something alien. It has some intense psychological moments, and the characters have to deal with what happens to the protagonist. Actually, there are only three characters in the film, two men and a woman, creating a sort of love triangle. By far, the two men are more interesting characters, especially the antagonist, who somehow during the film morphs out of his cliché role and turns into a much more rounded and sympathetic character. The acting on the part of the actors is all good, but Jeff Goldblum is really great in this, adding so much texture and character to his role. John Getz and Geena Davis are good, but it’s Jeff Goldblum who steals the show here. As his character go through the different stages of metamorphosis, so does his acting change, and it is great to see how he keeps up with the changes in his characters, and makes the protagonist almost seem like a new person.

The film is very tragic at times, portraying the desperation of the protagonist in a very sympathetic way. While staying true to many of the rules of the horror genre, the film is still very much leaning towards its own thing rather than being an exercise in genre. At its core it is a film about the love between the two characters, and how the woman reacts when the protagonist starts his disturbing transformation. The art design is great, particularly the single last stage of the metamorphosis is fantastic, and manages to look truly sad and scary at the same time. But all the stages are good, and the crew really went into detail to make the transformation seem organic. The cinematography lends a very dark and creepy style to the film, it always seems like some danger is lurking, but this is something that is often prevalent in Cronenberg films. The music should be mentioned, adding a great soundtrack to the film and giving the emotional climaxes some more weight. The pace of the film is perhaps a bit slower than most horror films, but does well to build tension, which all the aforementioned elements also add to.

So in many ways I was surprised by this film. I thought it might be a slightly interesting standard horror film, but it goes beyond the definition of the genre. The films striking feature is the sub-text of the love story and the themes of disintegration and loss of a loved one. The whole concept comes together very well. It is not as majestic as Videodrome or Naked Lunch, the film doesn’t have the scope I believe, it still is a fairly basic picture. But at that it is a very good and unique one.

Au Revoir les Enfants (Louis Malle, 1987)

Louis Malle made a bunch of films in the 50’s and 60’s that I liked, so this was my first venture into the later stages of his career, and this is probably the film I’ve heard the most about without knowing who Louis Malle was, so I had a certain anticipation to watching this. But I don’t really know what to expect from a Malle film, like when I watched Zazie dans le metro (1960) and was blown away by how different it was to any previous film I had seen by him. In fact, it had more in common with those Warner Brothers cartoons than any of his films. Anyway, so Au Revoir les Enfants is probably his most famous film from what I gather, and it depicts what certain filmmakers really love to depict, the Second World War. However, this time around, the story is quite autobiographical, from Louis Malle’s childhood. It’s about his growing friendship with a Jewish boy who is hidden at his Catholic boarding school, and the ongoing presence and threat of the Germans.

And its good, it actually is. It isn’t as much about the Second World War as about growing up to adulthood and friendship. The film strengthens this by putting these familiar themes into an extreme situation. But most of the stuff that happens is like things we ourselves remember, like kids sneaking off to smoke, increasing interest in the opposite gender, hate-love relationships and so on. But the film depicts its so well, and we see easily that Malle is a really experienced director by now, his subtle touches with the camera are at times fantastic, the setting is well defined and we quickly grow familiar with it. The film does get a bit frustrating at times, as it stigmatises the characters and situations a bit. However, it doesn’t get too bad, and it’s still miles away from that atrocity Schindlre’s List. But it does seem as its impossible for filmmakers to make such films without doing this, the closest to avoid it I feel were The Thin Red Line (Terrence Malick, 1998) and The Pianist (Roman Polanski, 2002). I really tend to find Second World War films a bit tiresome and trite, but this is one of the better ones, for the obvious reason that the war for the most part only remains in the background. Obviously, at the “heart” of the story is the friendship, but it also works well as a coming of age story, using the war as an excuse for the lead character to grow up.

For me though, the strongest aspect of this film was it dealing with the reasons for cultural barriers. The kids seem to refer to Jews as something merely abstract, simply because they don’t know them upfront, and in this case the film is actually still pretty relevant, as this is still going on. Their not anti-Semitic, but at the same time they don’t disapprove with the Germans treatment of Jews. Most of their comments on Jews seem right out of a textbook, which I would find fairly accurate to how kids without any critical knowledge would know these other religious people. It’s a really great observation, when the Jewish kid first arrives, they treat him like an outsider. Not because he’s Jewish, they don’t know yet, but simply because he’s new and they don’t know him. When they start to discover that he is a Jew, they don’t treat him any differently because he’s by then come into the fold. I find this is a good statement about how our religious backgrounds are just bullocks. Its also nice to see Catholics for once given dignity, and I do think the priests at the school should be honoured for taking in Jewish kids at the risk of their own personal safety, even though they are from different religions, again discussing this idea of religious background, we are still in the same shit. Sure, they are given their bit of ridicule through some slight humour, but it’s never truly mean spirited. Oh and by the way, the film didn’t manage to avoid the Nazi character that seems right out of a Superman cartoon, but it almost seems unavoidable in any Second World War film.

This is a very good film, with some really fantastic moments and genuine emotions. It has some elements that are true splendour, and some that are slightly weaker. It doesn’t come together as well as one would wish, but its individual pros make it more than worthwhile. I don’t really know why this is Malle’s most famous film, maybe because of the approachable themes and setting and being relatively “new”, but still, I preferred Le Feu Follet (Louis Malle, 1963)