Movies: The Official "Movie of the Week" Club Thread II

[Jevo]

Ed Wood (1994) dir. Tim Burton

Ed Wood is an ambitious young director to be, just looking for his big break in Hollywood. When Ed sees a studio have bought the rights for a cross-dressing movie, but are without a director, Ed tries his best to get the job. But with nothing on his resume and no stars, it's a hard sell. After the meeting Ed has a chance meeting Mr. Dracula himself, Bela Lugosi. Ed being a big fan of horror movies immediately starts a friendly relationship with the ageing star, and Lugosi is Ed's ticket into a directing job on the cross-dressing movie. With a movie industry hungry for content, no matter the quality, anyone with a star name attached could get money enough for a cheap B-movie thrown his way, no questions asked. The movie follows Ed Wood from the start of his career until the finalisation of his magnum opus, Plan 9 From Outer Space.

Setting the tone for a film like this is always going to be hard. Because how do you properly present a movie about Ed Wood, a man dubbed the worst filmmaker in the world. You can't really out and out make fun of the guy, even though that's what people do every time they watch his films. What Tim Burton seems to have done is make a movie, where he doesn't outright make fun of Ed Wood, but he doesn't explore any dark sides of the character either. Ed is optimistic from the first to the last minute of the film. He honestly seems to believe he is Gods gift to filmmaking, and he is too delusioned to realise how bad his movies are. In fact the movie doesn't appear to have a single moment of reflection from Ed about his movies. Not a single moment of doubt about his movies are his abilities. I think Tim Burton wants to be kind to Ed Wood, he wants to present him as the eccentric filmmaker that people expect to see, and doesn't really want to explore any other sides of Ed Wood. The problem I have with that, is that to me, Ed Wood comes across as simple, in the worst possible meaning of the word. You can do a lot of things with a character like this, but presenting him as outright stupid just seems low to me. I don't think it was even on purpose, I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing.

It took me a long time to realise what it was that felt off about Ed Wood to me, because I couldn't put my finger on it. In general I actually think the movie is well made, it's entertaining, Burton hits the 50s visual style spot on, and Martin Landau is amazing as Bela Lugosi. But the way that Ed Wood is presented in this film just doesn't sit well with me. It doesn't help that I seem to sour more and more to Johnny Depp with every new role I see him in.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

My takeaway from Vive Le Tour as a cycling know-nothing is how much the Tour de France is a cultural event as well as a sporting event. Much like the Super Bowl, an excuse for people to get together and have a good time, a celebration of nothing in particular but as good a reason as any to have a party. There's a hard core of fans who follow the sport and appreciate the athleticism involved surrounded by most who don't know or really care about the score...just pass the dip, and who needs a refill? The Tour is like that...come on down by the roadside and join the crowd, there will be a festive, carnival-like atmosphere. The Tour unites all the regions of France and to witness a few riders zipping by--the same riders who were in Normandy last week will be in the Alps next week and heading for Paris at the end--is to feel connected to the nation as a whole. It's part of the French experience that unites the nation.

The real drama of the event is often found far behind the leading pack with the laggards struggling to keep up, sometimes counting on spectators to push them along, physically spent but digging deep to find the extra strength to persevere. As a spectator I don't think standing at the finish line at the Champs-Elysees could really offer the same excitement or drama--especially when the winner might be somebody cruising through to the finish in the middle of the pack--as standing at the side of a country road and witnessing some poor soul collapse in the ditch from utter exhaustion. Or sitting in a village cafe and witnessing a drink raid--please tell me modern riders don't rehydrate with beer and champagne!

 

[Jevo]

Cameraperson (2016) dir. Kirsten Johnson

Cameraperson is a memoir from Kathrin Johnson, a documentary cinematographer who tells her life story through the films she has made, as well as with some private footage of her Alzheimers striken mother. Johnson doesn't tell a coherent story, but rather tells it in an essay like fashion, where she uses footage she has captured during her working life as a way to tell her story. Johnson doesn't use any kind of narration or explanation for the footage, or in anyway tell the viewer how they are supposed to feel about the footage. The only thing the viewer gets is context for the footage via a short text stating the time and place of the footage, nothing else. The footage and the editing gets to speak for itself, and it does that very well. Kathrin Johnson has filmed movies in many different hotspots around the globe. From refugees in Darfur, over filming in Yemen in secret because filming documentaries is illegal, to exploring the aftereffects of the Yugoslavian civil war. Clips from the filming of these films and many others spanning many different subjects, create the wonderful collage that is Cameraperson. Much of the footage give the indication that it is outtakes, or rather unused footage that gives a more behind the scenes look at the making of documentaries. This is where things are more personal and we get to see the relationship between the cameraperson and the subject. They are not just talking heads or objects to filmed, they are people that the cameraperson is trying to establish a real personal connection with, in order to get the best result out of the interview. The movie also seems like an opportunity for Kathrin Johnson to look back and process some of the feelings that were suppressed in the moment, in order to capture the footage. I feel this in particular in regards to the footage from the Nigerian birthing clinic. Something that appeared to have a big effect on her, but she also had to remain professional and capture the footage. As a viewer we get to experience these things with her as we watch the movie.

I find it hard to talk about Cameraperson as I would any other film, because it is quite unlike anything else I have ever watched. It is an amazing exercise in editing, and for realising that she had a huge backlog of footage, that was just waiting for being put together in the correct order. I think it would be incorrect to say that no story is being told here, but the story being told is being told in a very unconventional manor, which gives the viewer an opportunity to put themselves into an otherwise very personal story. At the end of the day, one of the only things I can say about Cameraperson is that it is one of the best and most interesting documentaries I have seen in a long time, and I'm quite sure I'll never see another one like it. It wasn't any worse on a second viewing either.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

The opening scene of Ed Wood, Tim Burton's affectionate biopic of Hollywood's worst director, is a kind of "Ed Wood moment" in itself. It's a dark and stormy night, the camera approaches a house that would look creepy if it wasn't so obviously fake. We move into the front parlour and see a coffin at the far end, its lid slowly opens and a caped figure rises to introduce the film. This is clearly a role for Bela Lugosi, whose claim to fame was playing Dracula. But wait, Lugosi can't introduce the film, he's dead before the picture ends. What would Ed Wood do? Throw The Amazing Criswell into the coffin. But Criswell's gig is playing a psychic, not a vampire. So let him lead off with a psychic observation. Yeah, that's the ticket. Still doesn't explain the coffin, but hey--nobody's going to notice. We've heard of suspension of disbelief, right?

"You are here because you're interested in the unknown." The Ed Wood story is a mystery alright…like was this guy for real? If his dream was simply to work in the movie business then he had it made from the start. He's right where he ought to be, working as a studio go-fer shuttling props from set to set. But what he really wants to do is direct. And write, act and produce. How does he make up the gap between his talent and ambition? That gap is the grey area between fantasy and reality, and in Ed's case it's a large grey area. He realizes his ambitions thanks to the faith and goodwill of the people he surrounds himself with, people equally deluded in their own ways.

Befitting a story of a director whose principal cinematographer was colour blind, Ed Wood is shot in glorious black and white. This isn't the sleazy Hollywood of L.A. Confidential--though the real Ed Wood story probably would be closer to that scene--and so we don't see the high contrast noir style which would have been the style of the time. The cinematography is lush--if that word can be used to describe b&w--using the entire grayscale, like an old b&w cartoon.

The supporting cast is also a highlight. Martin Landau justly received accolades for his portrayal of Bela but all of the characters are endearing in their own oddball way. I'm a big Vampira fan, interesting how when we first see her she's a rising star, the toast of the party with an entourage in tow, but by the end she's just another part of the misfit gang. It's like her bubble burst when she met Ed.

Is Ed Wood really the worst director of all time? He certainly had more respect for a shooting schedule than many more celebrated directors. And his work was inspiring. After all, Glen or Glenda inspired Bunny, a man 50 years ahead of his time, to go for that Mexican operation. It didn't work out as he'd hoped, with the doctor turning out to be a fraud (but who isn't in this world) and him depending on the kindness of a mariachi band to get out of a jam.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

Did you ever see Possession? Isabel Adjani is bonkers. I prefer it to Devil.

Possession? Yeah...now there's a monster movie! It's what made me interested to check out Devil.

(btw...what's your next pick Kal?)

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Oh yeah, the pesky matter of picking a movie. I am going with the Paul Thomas Anderson oddity Punch Drunk Love.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Cameraperson
Johnson (2016)
“These are images that have marked me and leave me wondering still.”

War-torn Bosnia. A thunderstorm in rural Missouri. Boxing in Brooklyn ... Guantanamo Bay, Yemen, Uganda, State College, Pa., etc. Johnson is primarily a documentary cinematographer having lensed the for the likes of Laura Poitras, Michael Moore and Kirby Dick on all manner or topical films. Cameraperson is her venture into the director’s chair, pulling images she’s shot from throughout her decades long professional life and mixed with footage from her own life including her Alzheimer’s-afflicted mother and her twin children doing cute baby things. It’s equal parts personal collage and travelogue. Once I adjusted to its rhythm, I got sucked in. Questions about how it would sustain itself or whether or not it would cohere into something larger passed and I just kinda rode the flow. She’s witness to the aftermath of a lot of crime and tragedy here. There’s one chilling montage which is nothing but scenes that are peaceful now but once were sites of death and destruction with those relevant statistics superimposed over the shots. There is a lot of life and death and memory. Tension is thick as a midwife in Africa saves a child that appeared to be still born. I’m still struck by the scenes of people happily playing ping pong in a building in Bosnia that was the site of innumerable rapes and murder’s during the ethnic cleansing that occurred there. It’s a really fascinating journey. Not sure what it says or if it is supposed to say anything. Left me with more of a felling. A striking work.

 

[kihei]

Ed Wood (1994) Directed by Tim Burton

When I first saw this film upon its release. it didn't leave much of an impression. I thought it was well done but a minor work. The thing I liked most about it was the distinctive lighting which I thought captured the one effect that sometimes worst-director-ever Ed Wood occasionally got right. Otherwise Ed Wood seemed like an overly respectful homage to a bad director with an eccentric performance by its lead actor, Johnny Depp. This time around, having fairly recently seen The Disaster Artist, there suddenly seemed like more to sink my teeth into when re-watching Ed Wood. In part, both movies use terrible directors to demonstrate the gripping mystique that movie making can have on some people. Wood's willingness to suffer humiliation after humiliation and keep on smiling all because he wanted to continue making movies seemed more Quixotic in retrospect. In a weird way, both Franco's and Burton's movies become a celebration of the power of movies to work as a siren call even to the least competent of artists. There is something strangely charming and almost poignant in how movies can become that important to some people. Burton's Ed Wood is almost a fantasy character, though. Ever optimistic and hopeful in the movie, with few fits of pique, in reality Wood was something of a tortured soul. He fought with depression and alcoholism, eventually becoming destitute and, along with his wife, dependent on the kindness of friends for shelter. Maybe Wood was an optimistic man, but, for whatever reason, Burton is providing us with a character closer to fiction than reality. Obviously Burton wanted to tell a fanciful story rather than a realistic one. Or maybe he wanted Wood to be remembered for his zeal and dedication, not his human failings. I still think that Ed Wood is a minor work but it carries more weight than I initially gave it credit for having.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Welcome back to cold temperatures @kihei

 

[kihei]

Cameraperson (2016) Directed by Kirsten Johnson

Cameraperson was among my favourite movies of 2016, easily making my top twenty for the year. Kirsten Johnson is a cinematographer who has devoted her life to documentaries that explore injustice, violence against women, social dysfunction, and abuses of human rights. In Cameraperson, with the use of outtakes from her various projects, she has created a personal memoir that while lacking a narrative nonetheless communicates a great deal about herself and how she feels about the world that she lives in. While the documentary contains some touching personal footage of her slowly-drifting-into-shadows mother who suffers from Alzheimer's disease, the focus is primarily on some of the great evils that she has witnessed around the world as well as on a few good people who struggle to make a difference. She poses a question in one of the snippets that I had considered before she brought it up: how can a person witness this much evil, this much suffering, and not be warped by it? I would guess that this question has vexed Johnson and been part of her personal struggle. While atrocities are mixed with some scenes of hope, it is clear that the world has a lot to answer for. Hers is the kind of committed feminism that seeks necessary change by exposing humankind's worst disgraces. Cameraperson is also a legacy that she will leave behind for her two twins, who, I suspect, have not always been the dominant concern in her life. But even just saying that makes me cringe a little as I have never had a similar thought about, say, John Huston or Alfred Hitchcock or Steven Spielberg. Sexism is often a subtle thing as some of her work demonstrates.

On an aesthetic level, Cameraperson opens up some big questions. What kind of responsibility does the observer have? How does her camera alter the behaviour that she is recording? How does one choose one image over another and how big a role does personal bias play in doing so? Do documentaries create new fictions? And as mentioned above, how does an artist look directly into the eyes of evil and lead a normal life? What is the personal cost of bearing witness to so much tragedy and human suffering? I think whatever the answer to those questions might be, it is safe to say that bearing witness comes at a high personal price. This is a documentary that I haven't stopped thinking about, on so many different levels, since I first saw it. If there is an image that I can't get out of my head, it is a powerful scene where Johnson focuses on the hands of a girl who has been raped and now must make a decision she should never have had to consider. The image of her hands squeezed tightly between the legs of her jeans reveals the hurt and turmoil inside her. One suspects that in this documentary, Johnson wanted to leave her audience with a myriad of feelings to think about and sort out; certainly, she has been wildly successful in that regard. I have great respect for this work and for the woman who lived this life.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

In Cameraperson director Kirsten Johnson assembles snippets of leftover film culled from various projects she's worked on over her career as a documentary cinematographer, presented as a string of pearls which may be subtitled 40 Short Films About the Wonders of Existence. Each segment illustrates some philosophical query on human nature or mother nature, some stand alone while others revisit scenes of earlier segments to expand or counterpoint those segments.

If there's a theme here I'd say it is about life's dichotomies, taking the good with the bad, the joy and pain, exposing the injustice of the world as well as its beauty. There are beautiful, provoking images…she's a cameraperson after all, who needs a script?...as well as drama in some of the segments, real tension for example when trying to surreptiously film the gates of a Yemeni prison. But what stands out most are the apparent contradictions which she captures. One of the most memorable scenes for me is where a court clek carries a heavy box containing evidence from a hate crime into a courtroom where the prosecutor is being interviewed about the case. The clerk comes in mocking the perpetrators…"these guys weren't very smart, haw haw..." then looks into the box and in a nanosecond his smile disappears and things aren't funny anymore. He stares into the box for a bit, then slinks away without a word like he wants to find a corner somewhere where he can cry. We don't know what's inside the box--eventually we will see--but his reaction and instant mood change say a lot.

Very abstract for a documentary, a genre where a strong point of view is usually expected, but I think that's the point,
Cameraperson is wide open for interpretation. Let's begin with the title. Is it meant to be a gender-neutral updating of the Soviet classic Man With A Movie Camera? Or a more universal and media-neutral alternative to Cinematographer? Perhaps the title is meant to be auter-neutral, reminding us that the films Johnson worked on were directed by others and she was basically a hired hand. On many of these projects she was not even the principal cinematographer but received credit for "additional photography by..." My gut feeling is she shares the passion for social justice that seemed to be the theme of many of her employers over the years, but I really don't know. Investigating the atrocities of ethnic cleansing in Bosnia she finds herself struck most of all by the beauty of the wildflowers, when an interview with an elderly Muslim women hits an impasse she changes the subject to fashion. She may not always be on the same page as her directors and this movie collects those pages that are hers.

Cameraperson gives us lots to think about, but I wouldn't recommend it. Thinking, that is. So easy to overthink things, you know? Is the shot of the lightning bolt supposed to say something about luck, being in the right place at the right time? Or does it draw attention to the combination of sound and image, the sonic boom coming a few seconds after the strike? I don't know, maybe thinking is overrated...just wondering about these things is enough.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Re: Cameraperson

It jumps out to me that we all singled out a different moment from that movie. Granted it's a movie of moments so it lends itself well to such thinking. Just interesting to me that we all pulled something different as an example.

 

[kihei]

Re: Cameraperson

It jumps out to me that we all singled out a different moment from that movie. Granted it's a movie of moments so it lends itself well to such thinking. Just interesting to me that we all pulled something different as an example.

Thing is, I'm not sure I would pick out that scene the next time I saw it, as I didn't notice it as much the first time. The first time the sequence with the little boy and the axe stood out. The next time I see it, it will likely be something else. That variability is one of the things that I really like about the documentary and its approach. To make an awkward analogy, with Cameraperson one never steps into the same river twice.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

Reminds me of when This Is Spinal tap was the MOTW and we each referenced different mockumentaries: What We Do In The Shadows/Best In Show/All You Need Is Cash/Anvil! The Story of Anvil.

My next pick by the way will be Peter Bogdanovich's The Last Picture Show.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

Picking up where Psycho left off --or at least where Janet Leigh left off, with an extreme closeup shot of an eyeball --Repulsion goes even deeper and creepier into a disturbed homicidal mind. This time the perpetrator is an all-time hottie who gets more dangerous with the less clothes she wears. And this time there's no scene with a psychologist to explain everything (which I think was misdirection on Hitchcock's part anyway) which thus ends the movie on a more unsettling note.

The sweet young thing with the straight razor behind her back is a victim too though, a victim of her own psychosis. Repulsion is a kind of "haunted house" movie in which Carole's apartment is haunted by her own fears. From the moment she first enters her apartment things begin to seem unbalanced, the camera drops from eye level to floor level and things get more off-kilter from there. The eerie atmosphere, with clocks ticking, taps dripping and bells ringing unexpectedly, would drive anyone mad. By the end, rooms and hallways become twice as long with dark corners that seem like abysses. An imaginary sexual predator hunts her. The walls grope her. She's literally cracking up.

What's she afraid of? Sex, specifically the opposite sex. And the fact that she has off-the-chart sex appeal--Catherine Deneuve spends most of the time in a negligee--doesn't help at all. It attracts a force she doesn't understand and can't control. Good guy Colin might be a soul mate--he reacts with violence when teased by his mates in the pub about being in love, though not with a blunt instrument of course--but, to make his fate even sadder, she sees no difference between him and the heavy breather on the phone. Bloody men!

Enough of my rambling, I'll let Repulsion speak for itself:

 

[kihei]

Repulsion (1965) Directed by Roman Polanski

I haven’t seen Repulsion in over half a century (!) and I gotta say it holds up very well. Carole (Catherine Deneuve) is a lovely young French woman working in a beauty parlour in London. By the time we meet her there is already something vaguely off about her. We never are told exactly what it is (Polanski throws us a bone in the end of the film in the form of an old photograph of a disturbed looking child), but whatever has caused her emotional condition is getting steadily worse. She seems to suffer from extreme sexual repression—everything about physical contact with men disgusts her. Polanski leaves us alone with her for long stretches, and we watch her drift into paranoia and madness. Isolated and alone, she begins to inhabit a nightmare world brought on by her own fragile mind. Her acts of extreme violence in her sister’s empty apartment are a measure of the force of her insanity.

Obviously, Psycho is a reference point for this movie though Polanski’s approach is more clinical than Hitchcock’s, ultimately more convincing, and the Polish director gets an amazing performance from Deneuve who perfectly captures Carole’s emotional and psychological fragility. Polanski in effect creates a nightmare world belonging to one person. We share that world with her, and although there are no shortage of shocks and jolts, there is also a feeling of empathy generated for Carole, as well, if only because her personal hell seems scarily real. Psycho ultimately was fun; Repulsion is fun of a kind, too, but for me it cuts a little deeper.

Suffice it to say that in 1965 Repulsion blew audiences the f*** away. It was Polanski’s first English language film, and along with his debut feature-length film, Knife in the Water, it solidified his arrival as a brilliant new European director. The movie now seems like the perfect storm for him---a work that represented the flowering of his own Grand Guignol sensibility under the auspices of his massive technical gifts. Like Hitchcock, Polanski always liked to give himself challenges and shooting in confined spaces was not infrequently a matter of choice. But he was never just about technique. Like Hitchcock again, he seems to have an intuitive sense of how far he can push his audience before they look away.

A word about Catherine Deneuve. At this time, Catharine Deneuve was often panned as an actress in North America, the reason being all too often a variation of a familiar refrain at the time: anyone that beautiful shouldn't be taken too seriously. Repulsion was her first movie in English, and her line readings can be awkward, as they are initially in Repulsion, but every other move she makes is convincing to the core in a film that she must carry as it is almost a one-woman show. Most critics will admit that she became an excellent actress as her career progressed—I would argue she had been an excellent actress all along.

 

[kihei]

My next pick is Anthony Minghella's 1990 film Truly, Madly, Deeply.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Repulsion
Polanski (1965)
“She’s a bit strung up isn’t she?”

Carol (Catherine Deneuve) is a bit ... tight. She lives with her sister who is more of a free spirit, maybe just a bit more normal. The sister has a boyfriend. Carol does not approve. Though one suspects she doesn’t approve of much. She’s bothered by the loud lovemaking in the other room. It’s clear she’s bothered by even the thought of sex. She’s a bit repressed and more than repulsed at the concept. She’s a little child-like. Wide-eyed, but vacant. That tub of water just aimlessly overflows. Men are attracted to her. She’s still beautiful after all. But a would-be suitor gets no where. Her life is an internal one, not external, and when her sister leaves her alone for a long stretch the cracks really start to show (har, har, har). Her nightmares of rape and monstrous hands reaching for her from the walls give way to full blown madness and murder to say nothing of the waste of a good piece of rabbit.

The question of why is what dogs me every time I watch this. I’m a big believer in not wanting or needing things explained to me. And I feel that’s often the truth for me as a viewer but for some reason, this is a movie where the lack of story or context around Carol is an irritant. Lacking much if any of that, the proceedings feel a bit cruel and she feels like nothing more than a beautiful, murderous simpleton. Why is she the way she is? Polanski doesn’t seem interested in that. He only wants to put her through the ringer. I mean, I don’t want the doctor at the end of Psycho, but I always feel like I want something more. Maybe I’m reading too much on this? Maybe I’m projecting Polanski’s shit onto this? With this, Chinatown and Rosemary’s Baby there is a bit of a rape and abuse of women thread here. Carol’s struggled called to mind Jacques Tourneur’s Cat People where it’s protagonist is literally afraid sex will turn her into a monster. It lacks Repulsion’s bombast, but as metaphor, I think I prefer it. Simone Simon’s Irena at least feels like a person and not just a thing. Wait, is THAT Polanski’s point?

All of this said, from a technical standpoint Repulsion has plenty to praise. It’s a tense affair. The opening 30 minutes are a tad languid, but it gradually escalates and ratchets up with every drumbeat and ticking clock and note from that wandering busker band. (Though the Mod-inspired score grated on me, era-appropriate though it may be). The cinematography is great and Polanski is a natural with a scare like a crack suddenly shooting across a wall. Repulsion is a movie that generates a physical reaction out of me. Every time I watch it I find myself repelled at certain scenes. I can stomach a fair amount of violence and have seen some abhorrent things in movies, but nothing gets to me quite like the simple horror of a straight razor or needles. This has plenty of straight razor. Oh god and the nail scene too. CRINGE.

Denueve is amazing.

Polanski was a born master. But the more I see Repulsion, the more I wonder -- to what end?

 

[Jevo]

Repulsion (1965) dir. Roman Polanski

Carol (Catherine Deneuve) is a young manicurist living in London with her sister Helen. Helen has a new boyfriend, Michael, that Carol appears to disprove of, but doesn't directly confront about it. Generally Carol doesn't confront anyone. She seems to go through her day in a sleep like fashion, trying to talk to and interact with as few people as possible. Carol has a suitor, Colin, who tries to get her attention, but she only ignores him, and tries to escape every time they are together. As Helen and Michael leave for a vacation in Italy, Carol is left alone in the apartment, and she shuts herself in even more, and even stays away from her work for extended periods of time. Alone in the apartment, Carol experiences severe nightmares of her getting abused and raped.

Without being particularly gory, Repulsion is one of the most disturbing horror movies I can recall watching. The nightmare scenes with Carol being raped in a sort of dreamlike world, are truly disturbing, and perhaps one of the best depictions of sexual assault on film. Or perhaps rather the best at depicting the horrors of sexual assault. Somewhat ironic that such a movie was made by Polanski. Polanski shows the long lasting psychological effects, which will stay with a person long after the physical strains have passed. One thing that really stands out in this movie, and also other Polanski horrors I have seen, is how great he is at using the camera to set the mood and build up tension. At the start we don't know what is wrong with Carol, but we certainly feel something is wrong. I think the way that he frames Carol, especially in regards to the male characters in the film, the often seem to loom over her, in a way that gives some unease. I also really liked the scene where Carol first finds Michael's razor in the bathroom. She's disgusted by his things being there, but she's strangely drawn to the razor. And the way she seems to explore the razor, almost seems like the most sexual thing she herself initiates in the whole film. You know that razor is going to be used for something bad later, but you don't know what.

I've watched Repulsion a couple of times, and every time I've had to spot and check where I've seen John Fraser before, who plays Colin. But I've never seen him anywhere else than in Repulsion. He just looks so much like a Danish actor from the same time period, Finn Storgaard, that it's just uncanny.

 

[Jevo]

Holy Motors (2012) dir. Leos Carax

A day in the life of Mr. Oscar (Denis Lavant). He is a sort of a performer, who is being driven around in a limousine by Celine. He is given a set of jobs that he has to do that day. In the limousine he prepares elaborate costumes and make-up, before engaging in a public performance art, where seemingly unaware public are being involved in the act. First he acts as an old female beggar on a Parisian bridge. Later he goes onto a motion capture facility and acts out an action sequence. And such goes the day through eight different jobs, with varying degrees of eccentricity and general weirdness.

What Holy Motors is really about, is hard to say. I don't think I know, or even have a good answer. Is about cinema, art in general, a commentary on society, or maybe a mix of all three and even more. I'm not sure I really want to know for sure. I'm sure any answer would feel truly satisfactory to me. But I love to go along for the wild ride. It's wild, fun, imaginative and enthralling. I try not to think too much about the whole thing. Otherwise things might start to fall apart at the seems. Like how Mr. Oscar can get fatally stabbed in the neck, and not die. Or how he can get shot in the face, and not die. Or how Kylie Minogue can jump of a building, and die, despite apparently being in the same line of business as Mr. Oscar. If I think too much about that, it might ruin my otherwise great enjoyment of the film. I don't really have a desire to figure out exactly what it is about, and what is going on in the film. Because it makes me think plenty without answering those questions. As much credit as Leos Carax deserves for creating this, both from a writing and directing point of view, and he deserves a lot. Denis Lavant deserves just as much for this portrayal of Mr. Oscar and his various characters. The role he is given is no easy task. One of the stranger actors in French cinema, he isn't fit for most roles. But perhaps the only actor I can see pulling off this particular role, and it seems to be like that with many of his great roles.

Before watching this again, I was somewhat afraid it wouldn't hold up here some 5-ish years after my first viewing. Was it just something that seemed great at the time, and now later and with a subsequent viewing, would look like a dud. Luckily I think it holds up greatly. I got just as much wonder and bewilderment as I remember from my first viewing.

 

[Jevo]

My next pick is Chaplin's Limelight.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Holy Motors
Carax (2012)
“Trois! Douze! Merde!”

I have to start with the dislike (maybe indifference is a better word?). I saw Holy Motors at the height of critical praise and discussion back in 2012 and left the experience with more of a shoulder shrug than anything else. I try not to let hype influence me, but I am human and I have just enough of a contrarian streak in me that’ll sometimes construct a wall against something. Sometimes I am right, but sometimes I am wrong. This is a case where I feel I was clearly wrong. I just needed time to figure that out for myself. From this hyper-personal standpoint, it reminded me a lot of Mulholland Drive in that sense. Other than “general weirdness” there isn’t a connection between this and Lynch’s bizzaro noir, other than I was a bit resistant to both on initial viewing, but completely receptive upon rewatching.

So, Holy Motors. It feels a little lazy to eschew a summation of the movie, but what is there to say? Oscar has a unique job. His chauffeur Celine drives him around Paris, appointment to appointment, taking on a new persona at every stop -- old woman, angry father, bizarre creature, assassin, dying man. He dies in some scenes, so it seems, but comes back. There isn’t much explanation as to why he’s doing these little mini-scenes. Later in the movie we find out the person he is acting with also is on an appointment. So what is the point of this two-hander? Who is the act for? I couldn’t begin to tell you (though this would be a fun one to discuss over a few strong drinks), but even if it boils down to something as simple as writer-director Leos Carax wanting to dabble in vignettes in a variety of styles (thriller, drama, musical, weird animated sex scene, etc.), I am at peace with that.

I had way more fun watching Holy Motors this time. I just wonder what my headspace was like years ago when I first watched it. Denis Lavant is fantastic, bounding from scene to scene and character to character, his rubbery face and lithe body seems a perfect match for the multitudinous role. Kylie Minogue(!) is a surprise in her brief appearance, which doesn’t come in a scene where one of her more popular songs plays at a party. Her mysterious passing and Lavant’s reaction is a surprising little emotional stinger despite Holy Motors being a movie where rules and stakes don’t really apply. I forgot about the reveal of Oscar’s family. I LOL’d, as the kids would say (they do still say that, right?). The discussion at the end between the sentient limos got another guffaw out of me. The lively according jam interlude is great. I was taken with that even the first time I watched the film and have actually revisited that few minutes several times in the past few years.

There’s a nice callback to Edith Scob’s role in Eyes Without A Face.

 

[kihei]

Holy Motors (2012) Directed by Leos Carax

Mr. Oscar (Denis Lavant) is picked up by a blonde middle-aged woman driving a super-stretch limousine. She chauffeurs him around town as he takes care of his nine duties for the day, all of which involve mammoth changes in personality and style, after which the limousines themselves have a conversation in their garage before tucking in for the night. There doesn't seem any rhyme or reason to what we are seeing. It's a movie that begs for interpretation but provides no clues as to what its purpose or larger point might be. I usually find such works exercises in self-indulgence, but with Holy Motors, I had fun going along for the ride. Though it may not have been intended as such, the movie is a great showcase for the talents of Denis Levant, an actor who was born to play Victor Hugo's Quasimodo, but seemingly not much else. As he has to play everything from a concerned father to a hitman to a bag lady in this film, I was surprised by his range. He pulled each identity off in turn and assumed a fresh one with grace and skill. I previously had thought of him as more of a mime or a performance artist rather than as an actor. If nothing else, the movie stands as testimony to his ability, a nice inclusion on the old CV.

Director Leos Carax is himself an interesting character. Notoriously a wary interview, he seldom has much to say about his movies. He always seems like he would rather talk about anything at all other than his work. This is one of those movies that quite deliberately leaves the spectator to his or her own devices. I was entertained enough by the progression of character changes that I just sat back and let the movie wash over me. I found the shenanigans entertaining in the moment. Indeed, I was somewhat surprised to find the movie held up on a second viewing as well as it did. I guess that it's kind of anal to think that a work always has to be about something. Art for art's sake is fun precisely because, awful though most of it is, not following the rules of narrative can take a viewer to some momentarily interesting places. Holy Motors "utility" is in its ability to engage its audience in a series of riffs that pass quickly from one to another (some of which, the "virtual reality" sequence, for instance, I loved). There isn't much point to watching clouds roll by in the sky either, but it can be pleasurable. Or another way of looking at it, maybe this is what Godard meant by "disposable cinema." It's there, you take a peak at it, and then you move on to the next thing. An awfully hit-or-miss enterprise, though, but it worked this time around, and for the second time.

subtitles

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

So it looks like we're all riding with M. Oscar for a second time. Interesting to see how impressions can change. Or not. My original review for Holy Motors was going to be a Spinal Tap/Shark Sandwich job with just two words: Holy shit. But that would be mean and not too original. But I stand by the negative reaction I expressed upthread.

So here's Denis Lavant, recently seen in this thread as the disgraced legionnaire in Beau Travail. Last we saw he was ripping up the dancefloor in a white disco suit. For absolutely no apparent reason whatsoever, like he'd been transformed into an entirely different character. Holy Motors takes the enigmatic quality of that closing shot from Beau Travail and stretches it out into a film of its own.

There's enough mystery in life. Holy Motors adds to it but does it reveal any insight? If so it was lost on me. It just felt like homework.

I don't know what my dreams mean either, but the search for meaning was never the preoccupation with me. What moves me most is the power of their images, the sense of atmosphere they convey, the feelings they stir. It's more than a bunch of weird stuff happening. This is what I feel Holy Motors lacks; as a puzzle it may engage the intellect but, save for a couple of scenes (such as the encounter between the supermodel and M. Merde, or the accordian break) it doesn't engage the senses or emotions. That's the difference between "wow!" and "wtf?" It shares with surrealism the inclination for ambiguity but without any exploration of the psyche or oblique social satire, save perhaps for a commentary on the banality of modern entertainment. As a result it all seems silly but uninspired.

I'm a big Monty Python fan and I know people who see them only as lunatics dressed up in women's clothes. They don't get it, and I must be one of those people when it comes to Holy Motors. Sure will take that drink though!

 

[kihei]

Punch-Drunk Love (1998) Directed by Carl Robert Mexican

I regret that there is only one of me and that I am basically unilingual. I wish there were at least four of me and that each one spoke seven different languages because one person writing in one language is grossly insufficient to condemn this awful, terrible, misguided movie. Let’s divide this review into what I like and what I hate about this movie.

HATE

This utterly charmless doofus of a central character
Sandler’s one and a sixteenth (the anger bits) note performance
Adam Sandler’s mother and father for having him
The physician and nurses who assisted at his birth
The teachers and doctors who taught the physicians and nurses how to deliver babies
The blank wall, dreary cinematography
The morose mise en scene
Paul Thomas Anderson for being Paul Thomas Anderson (Phantom Thread excepted)
Everyone who encouraged PTA not to become an accountant
The thought that a seemingly intelligent, normal woman could have been attracted to this imbecile
The stupid sub-plot about the sex worker
The fact that his business partner doesn’t seem to know him
The seven asshole sisters
Especially the lead sister who overacts so badly it made my brain implode
The often manipulative camera work
The pathetic background music
The witless, pointless nature of the whole enterprise.

In addition, I hated the popcorn that I had at the movie. I hated the flimsy paper bag that it came in. I hated the watered-down coke I continuously gagged on while trying to prevent myself from ripping down the movie screen with my bare hands.

I could go on, but you catch the drift…..

Like

The one shot of dumb ass walking through the open air Honolulu airport (all Hawaiian airports, that I know of anyway, are open air). Why? Because it reminded me how good that air feels, man. Hawaiian air on your skin is like Lafite Rothschild of your tongue, only it’s free.

Totally unnecessary and possibly impolite aside: Every one of you Americans out there who don’t live in Hawaii is certifiably bat-shit crazy. What is the matter with you?

…..but I digress.

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If there is a Hell, Punch-Drunk Love would be playing there on a continuous basis.