Sommarlek (Ingmar Bergman, 1951)

Ah, Ingmar Bergman, one of the greatest filmmakers, his films can be so simple, yet so sublime, particularly in the case of Sommarnattens leende (1955) and Smultronstället (1957). I do also love his films that are a bit heavier handed, but most of the films across his canon that I’ve seen are great. That being said, I haven’t seen any film by him in quite some time, a couple of years actually. The reason for this is that I had a period when I watched many of his films across two years, and after that felt fairly satisfied with the range in which I had explored his filmmaking, and went on to explore other directors. Lately though I’ve wanted to come back to Bergman and check out more of his films, particularly some of his lesser known films. The first in line was Sommarlek, a film made some years before Bergman became internationally famous.

I like it when Bergman doesn’t overcomplicate things and make it simple. Not because I can’t handle complex films, but it seems to me that a film will have more resonance and can create just as much meaning in simple terms. Also, Bergman is excessively good at this. Sommarlek is a fairly simple film, but contains a lot of the issues Bergman would later handle, although it does seem to brush over them quite quickly. Love, death, psychological angst and nostalgia all feature in here, although I feel some of the themes could have been fleshed out a bit more. Some of these themes are brushed over or touched upon at the very end, with no real fore building. However, the themes that are focused upon are developed quite nicely. The two most important aspects of the film I guess are nostalgia and love, specifically young love. A girl meets boy story, but with flashbacks and quite a bit of bitterness. In terms of depth the film is a bit shallower than Bergman’s usual output, but then again, this is an early work by him and he is still developing himself as a filmmaker. I know I’ve not been too positive towards the film, however, I did like the film, but it is sub-par to most of Bergman’s later films. The best aspect of the film is how Bergman captures the landscape with the camera; he creates a real sense of summer vacation, which is a central idea to the film. The film also deals with having to accept bad things happening in ones life, and try to go on no matter what. In this way it has a more positive note than some of his other films, particularly his later ones, and this I quite like.

From a historical point of view it is interesting to watch the film, because while not being stunning, it does point towards Bergman’s future filmmaking, and you can tell several aspects of the filmmaking style that will flourish in just a few years. It’s always interesting to watch how a filmmaker has progressed throughout his or hers output. Bergman surely walked a fine line throughout his career and every film progresses to some degree or in some way from the last. While there are several central ideas in his filmmaking, he also varied the style in many of his films, particularly Persona (1966). I always knew of Sommarlek, but few had talked about it, and I can kind of see why. The film is nice, has some interesting stuff in it and some good actors, but overall it lacks that certain depth that later Bergman films had. It’s still better than the average film you’ll see, but for a Bergman film one cannot avoid being slightly disappointed. However, the most enjoyable part of the film for me was seeing how the past affected the character in the present through flashbacks, and at this the film was quite good, giving us what we needed but not hitting us over the head with a hammer.

I would recommend Sommarlek to some degree; however it shouldn’t be the first Bergman film you watch. If your intent is to watch loads of Bergman films then this should definitely be on your list, because it is quite good. Not brilliant, but an enjoyable little film made by the Swedish master.

Stroszek (Werner Herzog, 1977)

America is one of the strangest countries I’ve been to. There is so much going on there, but at the same time everything has a plastic feel to it and everywhere smells of greasy fast food. I’ve rarely seen a film that have conveyed a similar visual of America as I experienced it, but then again American filmmakers probably don’t sense these similar things that a foreigner would. That is why I was so pleased with Werner Herzog’s depiction of America, because it came quite damn close to what I experienced. When you visit a foreign country you are usually quite alienated towards it, and that sense is perfectly captured in Stroszek.

Stroszek is tired of Berlin and decides to immigrate to America with his old friend and his girlfriend. However as it turns out, the American dream is not exactly what myth says it is. What makes this film is the character Stroszek, or rather, Bruno S who portrayed him. Although many celebrate the relationship between Herzog and Kinski, Bruno S is a real find by Herzog. Throughout his whole life, Bruno S did two feature films, this and Jeder für sich und Gott gegen alle (Werner Herzog, 1974), and he deliver himself completely in both. There is something strange, almost naïve and childlike about his person and I don’t believe he actually ever performs, he is just being himself. He helps create a feeling of “otherness” in those two Herzog films. While Kinski was a professional actor and had worked before he started making films with Herzog, Bruno S was without doubt a discovery made by Herzog, and this is one of the examples that shows how great Herzog was at spotting the right talent or person to create his films. Everything about Bruno S is perfect for the two movies he did, his facial expression, the strange ways he structures his sentences verbally, it all makes for quite a fascinating character. There is something very real about the character, and much of the screenplay is based on Bruno S himself. Indeed, the characters name is Bruno Stroszek, he plays his own instruments in the film and some of it was filmed on his own flat. Herzog was always concerned with the “real”, and we see clearly this in the character of Stroszek, which is in many ways trying to be based on Bruno S himself.

But this is in many other ways also a very interesting film. The wonderfully sarcastic portrait of the USA is very funny while also being very true. In many ways Stroszek is a dark comedy, and very dark at that. The character Stroszek is a fighter who tries to survive and make it despite his own inadequacies and quirks. But from the beginning we know that poor Bruno is doomed. His monologue about his feelings on America later in the film is great, and captures the feeling of the film. The film is very concerned with small physical object, and manages to create resonance of meaning through them. Some of these aspects aren’t in any way important to the narrative, but gives the film strength as a whole and establishes a very peculiar mood. But I guess these sorts of things have always been true for Herzog’s film. In fact, Herzog is a director that at the same time as impressing also confuses one; his films have a truly strange sense of mood to them, bordering on the insane at times. There is a good reason why Herzog remains one of the most bewildering and fascinating characters in the world of cinema, and while he has his eccentric qualities, this never overshadows the genuine originality and quality of his films

Stroszek was quite a good film, with a lot of quirky moments and objects, not to mention the characters and settings. The way Herzog captures America is very true to my own observations and experiences, and for me that made the film even more interesting. The core of the film though is the tragic figure of Bruno S, who truly manages to convey some of the really dark moments of our existence.

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.

Sabrina (Billy Wilder, 1954)

Billy Wilder is one of my favorite directors of the classic Hollywood era, and Humphrey Bogart is one of my favorite actors. I thought; how can a film featuring Humphrey Bogart, Audrey Hepburn, William Holden and Billy Wilder as the director not be anything else but great. Well, you might be surprised that it wasn’t that great, or maybe you are not surprised at all. Maybe when a film fills itself up too much with star power it is crushed under its own weight, or maybe the many egos just became too much for the production. Who knows?

The plot sort of relates to the Cinderella tale. The young Sabrina played by Hepburn lives in a huge mansion with her father who is the chauffer. She is in love with one of the family members who live there, the playboy type played by William Holden. His older brother, played by Bogart, is a cynical businessman. However, Sabrina cannot get the attention of the young playboy and is sent away by her father to become a Jedi knight, no wait; she is sent away by her father to become a cook in Paris. Two years go by at an alarming rate and she returns, now a proper gentleman of stature, sorry again; a proper lady. But all the narrative is for naught because I could tell how the film would end already in the first five minutes. This is one of the faults of watching too many movies, they can quickly become predictable, and this was indeed. Now that doesn’t mean all the while it wasn’t enjoying, because it quite was. There is a lot of humour in here, and that is quite good. I love Roman Holliday (William Wyler, 1953) and it was similar to this in many ways, however Sabrina falls a bit short. The chemistry between the three leads is also not too perfect; it works at times, but falls a bit flat. While Hepburn was great, the best actor was indeed John Williams, who played Sabrina’s father. He had an own sense of humour, and played greatly upon that. Bogey is also good, and takes a very different type of role than he usually does. Here he is not tough talking, but is quite weak, and not to good with the ladies, which lead to some funny scenes. William Holden, who I haven’t seen in too much, felt like he was a bit gone, and didn’t make a noticeable appearance.

What this film lacks compared to Roman Holiday or Billy Wilder’s other comedy masterpieces such as Some Like it Hot (1959) and The Apartment (1960) is that it isn’t particularly inventive. The jokes are good, some of the interaction between the actors is good, but on the whole the film feels slightly flat, particularly towards the end. Roman Holiday revoked much more in me and at the same time was funnier and sharper. Sabrina lacks an overall goal; it fumbles quite a bit at times. The film feels like it was hurried, not just in production but within itself as well. In my last review I complained about the film but still though Huston’s directing was great. Here though, I cannot say much about Billy Wilder’s directing. It’s okay, but lacks a bit subtlety that I usually find in his films. He also doesn’t feel as comfortable directing comedy here as he does later, and the film is far from as cynical as say Sunset Blvd. Although not being cynical is not a bad thing, it might have made this film more interesting, but as it stands it is a fairly straight forward comedy from classic Hollywood. The film lacks depth is what I feel is the main problem, and remains quite superficial.

I can understand why this was a hit in its day. It works on several levels, but looses its sight and falls flat a couple of times. I did enjoy it a bit, but the film didn’t leave me anything significant, and in the end I felt a bit down. A mediocre effort from Wilder, but Bogart and Hepburn do a good job.

The African Queen (John Huston, 1951)

I’ve always been fascinated with Africa and travelling into unknown wilderness. Films such as Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979) and Aguirre, der Zorn Gottes (Werner Herzog, 1972) really gave me this great feeling of being lost in nowhere. The unknown is indeed fascinating; this is one of the reasons why psychological horror can work so well. So when a film decides to take its characters to the edge of civilization you might expect it to push through these elements of the unknown. Well, not always.

The African Queen takes Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn through the dense African jungle on a river. The African Queen is the boat, and Bogart is the alcoholic captain. There is a plot that creates the circumstances in which the two travel together, but I won’t bother with that here. Suffice to say, they have to get through some tough areas on the river to reach their goal, and this is what creates the core of the film. Now most of the film takes place on the little boat, and for that the film is to be commended. John Huston’s simple but yet elaborate style really works here, and the script makes sure that there is always something interesting going on screen. However, one of the issues I have with this film is that it never really reaches any high marks. It all works very well, and has a lot of subtle touches, but overall the film really never gives me anything significant back. It’s a fun adventure with humour, romance and thriller moments, all in a neat little package. But as a movie viewer who usually looks for something more, be it themes, atmosphere or something intangible the film never delivers. There is a lot of potential in this piece of work, but I felt it somehow slipped away. Although I often talk about how I don’t care about a film being dark and depressing, I feel in this case it could have worked quite to its advantage. Indeed, several moments are quite dark, and these are the best. However, there is too much fooling around and the film looses a bit of its aim. A more serious tone and claustrophobia the film might have evoked much more emotions and ideas. Instead it stands as a solid but fairly uninteresting adventure film.

Bogart is great in this however, and encapsulates everything about his character. It is always fun to see Bogey in a different type of role, and here he does it marvellously. The chemistry between him and Hepburn is very good, which is essential considering they are the only two characters for the majority of the film. The location shooting is nice and gives it that extra touch of atmosphere, and the cinematography captures the landscape quite beautifully. The two lead characters have quite contrasting personalities which creates a lot of conflict, and continues to drive the film forward. One thing that struck me was how much comedy there is in this. A lot of the dialogue and situations are comical, and this adds to the variation of the film. However, there is a bit too much of everything. One could say this is a film that has everything, but sadly it is master of none. I don’t blame Huston’s directing, because for what it is it is impeccable for most of the time. However the script is too ambitious, and stretches in all directions at once. I don’t really like it when movies try to reach too far and miss the point in stead. A film can be better if it is concise and focused, although this is in no way a criterion. There are good films that have stretched far, but here it just isn’t executed as well as it might have been. It is different from many of the classic Hollywood films I’ve seen, but not always for the better.

An okay film that will entertain most. However I found there was too little to pick up here, the film remained too anonymous and hid behind a constant façade. It does a lot of things right, Bogey is good, Huston as always directs well, but the overall scope of the film looses sight and capsizes.

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.