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

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Come and See
Klimov (1985)

A Belarusian village in the midst of WW2. A brief peace is shattered by the arrival of the Germans, sending a young boy off on an Odyssey-like excursion of horror through the war-torn countryside. He endures a deafening shelling in the woods. In the meantime his family is taken away. He traverses a bog that seems almost out of a dark fairy tale. He meets new people. A girl. A group of rebels searching for supplies. An argument ends when one participant steps on a landmine. A nighttime shooting across an open field seems almost sci-fi with laser-like tracers and sounds that claim not just more men, but a poor cow with the bad luck of merely existing. I suppose that applies to most here. In a film loaded with horrifying sequences, the worst might be the prolonged taking of the village as people are herded into a wooden barn. We know why. They don’t seem to. It takes an excruciating amount of time for the Germans to enact their endgame of locking them in and burning it to the ground. The tables will turn a little time and a few miles down the road later and the people will get their revenge, small comfort it is. As the narrative wraps, the movie moves into a mad fantasy of real newsreels running backwards in time, as if it can undo what has been done. The epilogue notes that 628 Belarusian villages were burned to the ground during the war.

Francois Truffaut famously opined that you can’t make an anti-war movie because all movies ultimately end up glorifying war. I’ve seen and heard this sentiment applied multiple times lately — reviews of 1917, a podcast series I’ve been listening to that discussed this issue regarding Platoon, The Deer Hunter, Saving Private Ryan and Apocalypse Now. I wonder what he’d think about Come and See. Though I think there’s some truth in his idea, this feels like it would be one of the exceptions. It’s hard to sit through any minute of this or to recall it afterward and think there is a moment that even unintentionally glorifies such destruction. (Full disclosure, I was thinking about this on my own, but in doing some supplemental reading after writing most of my review, I came across Roger Ebert who opened with the same pondering. I suppose asking this question about war movies itself at this point is now a cliche).

Klimov’s approach is episodic and at times surreal. As mentioned above, the bog, the dense fog, the laser-like bullets. There’s a monkey. There are all too brief respites of good too. The forest rainbow and soothing drops of rain. It feels more like a nightmarish fairy tale at parts. And that’s fitting. I think of other war movies and I think of the cliches like the kindly village woman usually with a kid (hello 1917!) or the few moments of detente between a pair of combatants on opposing sides. This doesn’t have any of that. The weird touches, oddly, make it feel more real to me than the tropes we’re used to seeing. There’s lots of POV in this. Not only does the camera often act as the eyes, but characters often stare right back into it, right down the pipe, typically a no-no in movies, but it creates an unsettling effect here. That made me want to turn away as often as the depicted horrors did.

The visuals are plenty striking, but you can’t ignore the sound either. Raindrops, post-explosion ear ringing, forest creatures and bugs, screams, crackling flames. It's a sensory horror show.

 

[Jevo]

Come and See (1985) dir. Elem Klimov

Flyora is a teenage boy in a small Belarussian village during WWII. One day he finds the riffle he needs to join the resistance movement. His mother objects but he goes anyway. One day while the rest of the group goes out for an attack, he gets ordered to stay behind. With him is a teenage girl Glasha. For them this isn't much different than the games Flyora used to play with his younger brother. While standing in a clearing they look in awe at a German plane circling above. It's not until bombs starts dropping around them that they realise the reality of the situation. They escape physically unharmed. But shell shocked Flyora runs back to his village with Glasha in tow. They find the village abandoned after a German raid on it. Flyora continues leading them through a dangerous bog. On the other side they find the villagers hiding, and get told that Flyora's family has been killed. The villagers are creating a booby trapped mocking Hitler statue, which Flyora and some other resistance members goes out to set up. War is not a game, and Flyora is forever scarred, but this is just the beginning of the terrors he'll see in this war.

There is no movie that quite shows the terrors of war quite like this movie does. Maybe in part because there's no characters that we have to sympathise and root for in this film. Flyora spends most of the movie in various degrees of shell shock, and Aleksey Kravchenko rarely have to do much more than stare wide eyed into space or the camera. Flyora is often not much more than a blank slate for the viewers emotions to latch onto. Throughout the movie Flyora watches and experiences horrible things beyond belief, and by the end he rejoins the resistance. War has become normalised to him. But for the viewer not so much.

The first time I watched Come and See I had a really hard time with it. Because it does things quite differently than many other movies. I particularly had a hard time with Kravchenko's acting. I'm not even sure how to describe it. But he seems to only act one emotion at a time, and then he acts the hell out of that emotion. I'm still not sure I'd consider it particularly good acting. But Flyora isn't a typical main character. He is in no way a sort of emotional beacon of the movie. I think I wanted to experience the movie through Flyora instead of for myself. But if I let Flyora be Flyora and feel the movie for myself, whatever it is Kravchenko is doing isn't a big problem for my any more. The movie also has a sort of surreal sound design. I dont' think dialogue was recorded on set, and the dubbing sounds super weird to me. It's like none of the voices seem to really match the actors, and I'm not sure if that's intentional, but it makes the movie feel very eerie. The score also doesn't really fit a war movie if you can even say that. It often doesn't even really feel like music. It's very distorted and unmelodic. The music during the bog scene feels more like something that should be in 2001: A Space Odyssey. It gives the movie a jarring juxtaposition because much of what we see is sorta hyper-realism, while audio wise the movie is quite surreal. The movie also jumps frequently back and forth between 3rd person POV and 1st person POV. Which I can't recall other movies doing to the same extent. But it something that gives the movie its distinct visual style.

Come and See is quite unique film, which probably means it can be hard to fully grasp it on one viewing. But as an anti-war film, I think it has few equals. Rarely has the horrors of war been presented as bluntly as they are here. I'm not sure I'll ever like Kravchenko's acting in this film. But watching it for a 2nd time, I've started to see why it might serve a purpose in the film, and I'm better able to look beyond and see the power of the movie properly.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Next pick: Eric Rhomer's My Night at Maud's

 

[Newsworthy]

Call of The Wild is an 8/10. Really great movie.
Fantasy Island is awful. 2/10 and walk out worthy.

 

[nameless1]

Next pick: Eric Rhomer's My Night at Maud's

Nice, a Rohmer. I cannot say it is my favourite from the Six Moral Tales Series, but to this day, I cannot find another film that represents bourgeois intellectuals better than this one.

 

[kihei]

Come and See (1985) Directed by Elem Klimov

The invasion of Belarus (I think) by Nazi troops during World War II as seen through the eyes of Floria, a young adolescent boy, is about as devastating as a movie can get. This was the second time that I have seen Come and See, and I thought it was even more powerful this time around. Knowing what's coming allowed me to concentrate on how the movie achieves its effects, something that I was virtually oblivious to on first viewing. I mean, I got the impact, all right, but this time around I was amazed how cinematic this film was. how gorgeously shot it was, especially when taking into account the ends that it achieves. There seems to me a big irony in there somewhere--such a beautifully composed and directed movie designed to deliver such a powerful statement about what a malignant species we are at our worst. While Nazis are an easy target, especially when they are involved in burning down 626 villages and their inhabitants like it was some kind of wonderful sport, the movie seems to go deeper, suggesting something depressingly appalling about the human condition and our potentiality for evil in general. The movie is a sort of malign picaresque tale that follows a young lad ever deeper into the circles of hell constructed by the marauding German army. Whether crawling through a lake of thick, viscuous mud (with the two young actors seemingly risking their lives in the process) or surveying the almost carnival atmosphere of a group of German troops happily waiting to burn defenseless villagers alive or the eerie beauty of a close-to-the-ground artillery attack, bullets whizzing through the wheat fields like laser beams, each incident carries with it its own set of horrors and consequences. At one point we watch a cow's frenzied eye movement as it nears an unnatural death. I mean, there are so many scenes that could land in one's nightmares it's hard to count them all. But the purpose of the movie is never prurient, though it sometimes feels that the director really wants us to redefine our notion of cruelty with help from his camera. Ultimately, the flaw is not war itself so much but how it provides an excuse for people to forget every principle they once may have possessed and every moment of fellow-feeling that they once may have held dear. War is Hell. This movie proves it.

Russian war movies can be very different from their North American counterparts. Hollywood usually focuses on victories, hills to be taken, battles to be won, odds to be overcome or on heroes to be celebrated. There are some notable exceptions, such as Paths of Glory and Apocalypse Now, but the emphasis is usually on action and bravery and victory. As for the soldiers who fight in these wars if patriotism is compromised, and it surely has been by now for most people with half a brain, why, then, do your part for your buddies because you are all on the same team. Russian war movies like The Cranes Are Flying, Ivan's Childhood, In the Fog, and Come and See focus on totally different things: on the destructive nature of war and the personal devastation that comes with it. I think that there is a big difference in the way that war is perceived at the movies by countries who have suffered the direct consequences of war on their own land and those countries who have never been afflicted by modern war, or remember war only in the distant past. Most European countries have experienced war firsthand, and thus have a less escapist notion of the immense destructive force that it can unleash to both body and soul. In this as in many other regards, Come and See is among the best war movies that I have ever seen.

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[kihei]

Flame and Citron (2008) Directed by Ole Christian Madsen

Flammen (Thure Lindhardt) and Citronen (Mads Mikkelsen) are Resistance hit men whose job it is to assassinate Danish Nazis. But when their mission is altered to include killing German Nazis, the pair initially balks at this decision, fearing German retaliation on the Danish people. They eventually come around to accept their new responsibilities, but begin to suspect that their superiors are intentionally feeding them the wrong people to assassinate. From that point onward, things get ever more complicated and morally complex. Based on actual events that occurred in Copenhagen during World War II, the movie manages to be successful almost in spite of itself. For director Ole Christian Madsen, this project was one he fought for over a period of years to make. He is keenly aware of the historical significance of what these two men did, and he believed that their story should be more familiar to a Danish audience than it was in the past. The question, a difficult one, is should he, Madsen, have been the one to direct this film. I think not.

One of the cardinal rules of film criticism is that a writer review the film in front of him or her, not the film that he or she thinks should have been made. I find it hard to not break the rule in this instance. The movie has much going for it. The premise---Resistance assassins being deliberately assigned the wrong people to knock off--is an absolutely brilliant one. However, I can't help but wonder what a better director, one perhaps not so personally involved in the story's history, would have done with this premise. There is a first-rate Hitchcockian thriller hiding in there somewhere, complete with one of the best femme fatales in 21st century movies. What would, say, a Michael Haneke or even a Denis Villeneuve have done with this material? As it stands, the movie is a bit of a muddle of style and themes. There are the events, the messages, the moral ambiguities, and the differing genre approaches, a lot of noir mixed in with serious bits and conventional bits, the action sometimes helping the movie along, sometimes seeming like a digression from more important matters. However, the story is so strong and the premise so compelling that Flame and Citron overcomes most of its shortcomings. Another factor that helps it do so is the acting or Lindhardt and Mikkelsen as the two principle figures in the enterprise. Lindhardt plays Flammen like a modified version of a young gun in the Old West. He's baby-faced but sure of himself, taking immense risks in the damndest places even though his red hair might give him away. Mikkelsen as Citronen is even better. It takes the audience awhile to realize that by the time we first meet him, he is already a burned-out case, breaking out in cold sweat and close to an emotional reckoning that he can't afford--Flame, with the certainty of youth, never quite realizes that this troubled soul could be him in fifteen years. Mikkelsen suggests a dimension to this occupation drama that Madsen really has no time to develop, nor seemingly much of a feel for--the complex personal repercussions of killing people for a moral cause. There is an awful lot here to really like about this movie. But, oh, what a movie it might have been.

subtitiles

 

[kihei]

My next pick is Andrey Zvyagintsev 2017 film Loveless.

 

[Jevo]

Flame and Citron (2008) dir. Ole Christian Madsen

Flammen (Thure Lindhardt) and Citronen (Mads Mikkelsen) are members of the Danish resistance movement during WWII. Flammen is the executioner, and Citronen assists and serves as his driver. Together they are one of the most effective pair of resistance fighters in the country. Their targets are Danish collaborators, editors of nazi newspapers, and others who assist the occupation. They only target Danes to lessen retaliation by Gestapo. But their superior in the resistance movement Aksel Winther, gives them three German targets in the Abwehr. Flame and Citron object, but Winther claims orders come directly from the Danish government in exile in London. Reluctantly they go and do the job. But their reluctance means only 1 out of 3 is killed. The noose starts to tighten around the resistance group as several members have been picked up and killed after the failed assasinations, and there's talk of an informer in the group, perhaps a woman which Flammen has been involved with.

"Did you go out and watch? What did you think?"

That's the final quote of the voice over by Flammen where he sets the scene of the German occupation of Denmark. It's a bit on the nose. But I think it works well here, as it gets the viewer to put themselves in the shoes of Danes during that time. And breaks the disassociation that viewers might have towards the film. It says this isn't just a good story conceived to entertain you for two hours, it really happened. The use of archive footage is a part of this approach as well. I like how it's done, and how it's slightly provocative and forces the viewer to contemplate whether they would do the same as these men. But others might find it too much on the nose.

The resistance movement has been a popular subject matter for Danish films over the years. Some have been good, some have been bad, some have been offensively terrible. One of the best is The Red Meadows released just a few months after the war ended in 1945, but unsurprisingly it's not particularly nuanced in it's portrayal of the resistance members. The best of the bunch is probably Flame and Citron though. Not least because it's perhaps the only fiction film to have a nuanced view on resistance members. They are fighting for the country, but they can also be self serving and abusing their positions for their own gain. They can let their emotions cloud their judgement of people around them and their motives. Citronen is not a devout father and husband. He is in fact a terrible father and husband. He loves his family, but he has made a decision that the resistance is more important. There's sacrifices to be made, and he's making a big one. Flammen and Citronen are undoubtedly heroes in this story. They are doing the right things for the right reasons. But they are also human and flawed. They make mistakes, and they let their emotions cloud their judgement at times. But this only makes them more interesting.

Mads Mikkelsen is by far the most well known Danish actor at the moment, and for good reason. He rarely if ever puts on a bad performance. And his performanec here is very good as well, even if he isn't the lead. Citronen gets a few scenes for his personal story, and despite them being few he makes them count, and Citronen's story is one of the most well defined parts of the movie for me. But Thure Lindhardt as Flammen is more than holding his own. Together they form a great duo on screen.

I really like Flame and Citron, over the last couple decades it's among the very best Danish movies which have come out. It has a really great balance between personal stories of the main characters, and the overarching story. You could have made a much longer movies with many more characters from the resistance group if you wanted to. But I think it's a great decision to focus only on these two men, and the people that you otherwise need in order to tell their story. It makes for a much better movie.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Flame & Citron
Madsen (2008)
“I don’t think there’s an after. Not here. Not for us.”

Flame/Bent and Citron/Jorgen are part of the Danish resistance in WWII. They’re on a team of spies and assassins, hunting down traitors in the police, politics and journalism. They’re the last of their kind as others have all been killed, emprisoned or fled to safety in another country. Their tenuous existence is made all the more difficult by the arrival of a woman whom Flame takes a liking to and a series of assignments that have them questioning their orders and goals. Are they actually killing those who deserve to die? Evidence mounts that they aren’t. Amid this backdrop of violence and paranoia, the duo has to navigate not just their personal feelings but the increasingly muddied political landscape. In the end, they’re only two men in a game stacked against them. Tragedies mount. They’re sold out (by the woman). Flame kills himself. Citron goes out in a hail of bullets. They’d later be recognized as national heroes.

This was not unlike Come & See in the sense that it’s a perspective, a time and place that I haven’t seen from a war that’s been pretty well covered on film. Other than that, wildly different, of course. This is a fairly cracking thriller. Serious (and real) material, but it recalled the crackling novels of Alan Furst or David Downing to me, where men who once were ordinary citizens have been forced into an entirely new secretive and violent life. The outside interests aren’t a simple matter of Nazi vs. non-Nazis. It’s a complexity our heroes cannot see and ultimately will cost them.

Thure Lindhardt and Mads Mikkelsen make for a well-matched pair. Early in the story, Flame is the cold hard-ass with Citron as the more stoic one. Citron, in fact, had not yet killed a person, a bad timing revelation that earns a bullet for Flame. It’s a tough lesson for the partner who gradually becomes the more violent of the two. Lindhardt softens Flame, to the detriment of the team. This isn’t a time for feelings or sentimentality. Such complications create danger.

It's passably directed but the story and acting really do the heavy lifting.

It’s a stylish film too. Our duo and those around them often seem more like dapper, nattily dressed gangsters than spies or assassins. I’d be remiss if I didn’t note a bit of a The Wild Bunch vibe as well. Proud men, last of their breed, walking into almost certain death because it’s both the only thing they know and the right thing to do. It’s a damn stubborn but understandable honor.

 

[kihei]

Off to Barbados for a week on Wednesday, so will be late with the next review. Hopefully all goes as well as it can here and there. Keep safe.

 

[Jevo]

No (2012) dir. Pablo Larrain

In 1988 the Chilean military dictatorship is facing increasing pressure from the outside world to implement democratic measures. As a response they stage a referendum asking the public whether they want to give Pinochet another 8 years as president. Leading up the election each side gets 15 minutes on TV every night to present their case. The No side late at night, the Yes side in prime time. Many opposition parties don't believe the election is legitimate, and would rather spend their 15 minutes showing dark documentaries about the atrocities of the regime than trying to appeal to voters. However successful marketing director Rene Saavedra (Gael Garcia Bernal) is hired to lead the No campaign. He's not an ideologue, and goes to case as if he tries to sell a product, and presents a happy, upbeat campaign with as little mention of atrocities as possible. He faces criticism from different sides, but when his campaign starts attracting more and more people, even those who disagree with his methods starts to support his campaign. But the government starts trying to put road blocks in the way of the No campaign.

One of the most distinctive things about No is that it was filmed in a way so that it looks like it was filmed in 1988, rather than 2012. At first you might wonder if you have gotten hold of a really bad bootlegged DVD, but it is actually entirely on purpose. For one thing it allows the film to blend archive footage with new footage much more seamlessly than if it had been filmed in the best possible quality. it also gives the movie a sense of authenticity, like it was filmed back then. The use of hand held camera, which often films from angles that you would if you were an amateur just filming what was happening, with the bad lighting and everything that follows with that, gives another sense of this being filmed then, by those who were there. But the camera filming two people talking with the sun being directly behind them shining into the camera, isn't due to carelessness or incompetence by those who made the film. It's entirely on purpose. And there cases throughout the film where the home video/documentary style of filming subsides, and we get more regular cinema camera work, and even with a few stylised shots here and there as well. Personally I quite like how the movie looks, and I think they make it work really well.

No is in many ways a celebration of the will of the people which overcame obvious attempts to disrupt it, but which ultimately forced itself to be heard through peaceful means. Of course the people didn't do it alone. A certain mistrust in Pinochet's ability to keep the country stable from the generals was a factor, as was their fear of the response from international companies if they repressed the results. But a victory few thought possible, and even fewer thought would be allowed, is worth celebrating. The movie only focuses on one part of the whole campaign, the TV campaign, which of course didn't win the election on it's own, but was an integral part of it. But maybe you have to ask yourself whether it's the part worth celebrating. No doubt the people involved had their hearts in the right place. But should we celebrate an election won by marketing people rather by discussion of policies? With Michael Bloomberg in mind, it's certainly something worth thinking about. Ultimately he wasn't successful, but at one point he had amassed quite the support in a very short amount of time through an aggressive marketing campaign. The ending of the movie seems to address this as well somewhat. When the results are announced the No campaign are of course delighted. But Rene seems unable to find the same sort of delight as those around him. For them it is a huge turning point for their country and the possibility of having their voices heard in a democracy. But Rene seems to realise that for him it was just another marketing campaign. Afterwards we see him with his boss, the same boss who had been leading the Yes campaign, pitching another marketing campaign. Using the exact same words we've heard Rene use for every pitch in the whole movie. Not much has changed for Rene. A great ending for Chile, but a somber ending for Rene.

 

[Jevo]

My next pick is Anna Biller's The Love Witch.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

No
Larrain (2012)
“I think that this ... doesn’t sell.”

Chile, 1988. Longtime dictator Augusto Pinochet is up for, uh, “election.” Opposition has been invited to mount a campaign against him. It’s a simple yes or no issue. Yes for Pinochet. No for against. 15 minutes of TV time each for a month leading up to the election. Rene is a respected ad executive. He’s recruited to the opposition. There’s an opportunity. But how to seize it? Pinochet is a monster. A dictator who has ruled for 15 years by fear, violence and intimidation. The No campaign wants to lead with that message, but Rene, who is more attuned to selling soda than politics, sees a better way. Optimism. Positivity. Aspiration. He has to fight his own team, but once the message starts to get out, it begins to take hold. Team Yes (which includes his boss) notices. The watching and intimidation begins. Censorship of the commercials. As does the aping of Team No’s technique. If you can’t beat ‘em, copy ‘em. In the end, it isn’t enough. Rene’s strategy is a winning one and the monster is voted out.

Based on a true story, No is a compelling look at the power of messaging in the face of even the staunchest challenges. It isn’t a fairy tale. This one worked. Larrain takes a documentary-like approach, shooting on video, capturing strategy meetings as if there in actuality. It’s a version of a political thriller but not quite. Maybe more of a philosophical thriller?

No is great on its own merits, but it’s almost impossible not to watch it and put its story in a bigger context. It’s hard to watch this in this moment in time as an American and not think of current or recent history. I thought of Michelle Obama’s proclamation that “When they go low, we go high.” And I certainly thought about Donald Trump, the fears that got him elected and the fears that might get him reelected. I see the Yes campaign’s steamroller telling viewers that all their hard work and possessions will be destroyed by the socialism that the opposition wants. Such messages, of course, are older than that and beyond borders. But those are two obvious ones that I think of in my life.

It’s a testament to the movie that though the times and places and severity of details change, there is an identifiable and universal conflict at heart.

 

[kihei]

No (2002) Directed by Pablo Larrain

Here is the review that I wrote for this movie back in 2012, slightly smoothed over and edited for the book:

No (2012) Directed by Pablo Larrain 8A

Fifteen years after the CIA-financed assassination of democratically elected Communist leader Salvador Allende, the brutal Pinochet dictatorship in Chile is forced by international pressure to hold an election to establish its right to stay in power. Rene (Gael Garcia Bernal), a very successful advertising executive whose star is on the rise, is asked by the “No” side, the coalition opposed to Pinochet, to run its advertising campaign. Rene demurs. He thinks the deck is stacked as whoever heard of a dictatorship losing an election. However, he reluctantly agrees to serve as a consultant. Once on board, he instigates a “feel good” campaign which is scoffed at by his colleagues, that is, until the “No” side starts creeping upward in the polls. How long will it take the dictatorship and its supporters on the "Yes" side to realize that Rene is a threat to their power? Not long. Bernal provides a terrific performance, practically allowing the audience to read his thoughts. In support, director Pablo Larrain furnishes exactly the right mixture of humor, fear and defiance. No may be the best political thriller since All the President’s Men in 1976.

That review seems laughably superficial to me now. For what it is worth, despite the fact that I gave the film an 8A at the time, I think I may have underrated it. Watching it again for the first time since 2012, a couple of things stand out that I didn't take into account when I first saw it--like how much of a cautionary tale it is, for one. I should start by making mention of the style with which it is shot. I read later that Larrain deliberately shot the film to make it look more like archival footage from that time, to the extent that he sought out the cameras, lighting equipment and film stock from the Pinochet period. What I think this has accomplished is nothing especially flashy, but something which makes a clear distinction between this political thriller and others that are more conventionally photographed. In other words, a seemingly little thing in relation to the technique of story telling has nonetheless a direct impact on the feel of the movie--it has a look and an immediacy that sets it apart. The second thing that I noticed more closely this time in Gael Garcia Bernal's performance. He remains throughout the movie much more the dedicated advertising exec than he does any sort of political activist. While Rene is no fan of Pinochet, Bermal's performance deliberately (and I stress "deliberately"} lacks the passion one observes, say, in Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman's performances in All the President's Men, in Jean Louis Trintignant in Z, and in Jack Lemmon in Missing. It's a fascinating choice for him especially considering boyish enthusiasm that can positively radiate off the screen is one of Bernal's strongest suits. I tried to think why he and Larrain made this choice and the only thing that I could come up with was that Larrain was focusing on ideas much more than the personal charisma of his lead actor. Part of the "ideas" have to do with Pinochet and how casually the fascism of his regime is accepted by the elites of Chile, but there are other ideas that focus on advertising and its methods. Rene's approach is both astute and brilliant, but should a cleverly constructed ad campaign practically indistinguishable from a successful campaign for dish soap or a cola drink be the platform that the "No" campaign relies on. Well, yes and no. Yes, in the sense that it helped the good guys win the election over the really, really bad guys; no, in the sense that if the bad guys had gotten the idea first, the approach would have likely worked just as well for them. The right side won, but it sure doesn't say much about the electorate, and maybe that's the real point.

As in most of Larrain's films (Post Mortem; The Club; Neruda; Ema), there are an awful lot of ideas swirling around and he just leaves them out there, not really trying to force an answer. The other thing I noticed is how easily the upper-middle class can perceive fascism as not such a bad thing as long as it keeps the economy running smoothly. Rene's boss, Lucho, is a case in point. Not happy that Rene is leading the "No" add campaign, Lucho first tries to bribe him and then to outwit him. His scruples are not the least bothered by the Pinochet regime and its murderous methods, rather he seems to see the regime as a guarantor of his way of life. Rene comes to realize that he and the people he loves are directly threatened. Yet, after the election is over, it is back to business as usual, almost like nothing momentous has happened. This could be read two ways--one, that ultimately there is not a whole lot of difference between the two men--their differences are no more than merely an interlude in their otherwise lucrative professional relationship. But I don't think that is the point. I think the point is while Rene and Lucho may largely be cut from the same cloth, it is the Luchos of the world who can somewhat more easily float with the tide. They will support whoever is in power without feeling any great concern for democratic ideals and values. As long as their preferred standard of life is assured, they really doesn't care whether a fascist dictator or a democratically elected leader is in power. One thing for sure I can say about No today that I couldn't say when it was first released. It seems to hit much closer to home now than it did then.

 

[kihei]

Jevo, I should have just cut and pasted your review with a thumb's up.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

My Night at Maud’s
Rohmer (1969)
“I’m not trying to meet new people.”

Our protagonist lives a disciplined life. He’s religious and dedicate to church. He’s mathematically inclined. An engineer. It’s Christmas time. With a mere glance, he grows attached to a fetching blonde he sees at church. In the meantime he runs into an old acquaintance whom he hasn’t seen in 15 years. He and Vidal enjoy a meal and a concert and soon the company of the woman Vidal himself is attached to, Maud. They go to her apartment for a prolonged sequence that takes up much of the movie. The trio discuss love, religion and philosophy. None are on the same page. Our protagonist, in particular is a serous man, dedicated to the structure of his beliefs. Maud is looser, both in morals and attitude. Her husband cheated on her. She’s a challenge, a temptation and, quite possibly, a good match for our protagonist. She calls him on his bullshit, his self-confessed past as a Don Juan and his staunch present self. There’s a game going on here. He’s forced to stay the night and (bless him) manages to do so chastely. There’s a hint that something might come of this ... alas, he meets the blonde again. Their first real encounter also is a chaste one. Turns out she’s been seeing a married man. But this is who our protagonist tells himself who he is. This is where he feels he needs to be. In an epilogue, they’re married five years later. He meets Maud again. After a pleasant encounter, it dawns on him that her husband’s lover was his current wife. Rather than confront her, he opts to remain quiet, content to enjoy the life they have.
Did he choose this life on his own or did fate mandate it? Depends on who you believe.

My Night at Maud’s is austere and modest, quite like its main character. It’s intellectual, but I didn’t find it dry. That’s due a lot to the performances, Francoise Fabian in particular as Maud is a lively delight. That centerpiece section is practically a play with the limited characters and confined space. Long speeches and long takes. Little movements. Rohmer gave his actors room to work. Now while I think there’s a good performance here by Jean-Louis Trintigant in the lead role, I DO wonder why any woman would find him that appealing. Decent looking, presumably successsful but a bit of an over-inflated drip as well.

As a philosophical discussion, it was pretty engaging and as a film, well, the black-and-white snowfall was a beauty to behold.
My first Rohmer experience. Looking forward to more — though I suspect I need to be in the right, focused mindset.

Hell of a 1969 for Trintignant who was also in Costa-Gavras’ Z that year.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Hope everyone is happy and healthy amid the COVID19 concerns.

My local library system is closed for the next month, which knocked out a few of my choices. (Well, at least for FREE, I’m sure streaming has many). I actually planned to stock up prior to the shutdown but no luck.

And I’m house-bound due to some work restrictions, which means I have a little more time than normal so selfishly I’m picking a lengthier movie. I hope you enjoy it.

Michael Mann’s Heat

 

[Jevo]

My Night at Maud's (1969) dir. Eric Rohmer

Jean-Louis (Jean-Louis Trintignant) is a solitary engineer who recently returned to France after several years abroad in Vancouver and Valparaiso. He regularly attends Catholic mass, and one day spots a beautiful young blonde, and gets convinced she will become his wife. Later he runs into an old Marxist school mate, Vidal, they rekindle and Vidal invites Jean-Louis to come with an visit a friend of his. They arrive at the flat of Maud (Francoise Fabian), a recent divorcee who has an affair with Vidal, which on her part is nothing serious, while Vidal is in love, something they are both quite aware of. Vidal and Maud who are both atheists discuss the philosophy of Blaise Pascal with Jean-Louis, who himself admits he's a flawed Catholic. After Vidal leaves, Maud convinces Jean-Louis to spend the night so he won't have to drive in the snow to the mountain village where he lives. Jean-Louis rejects her physical advances however. The night gives Jean-Louis the drive to contact the blonde from the church when he sees her the next day.

Pascal's Wager, at least in it's original form, seems flawed to me. It states that you should always live life as if God exists. Because if he does, you get a life of eternal happyness in the afterlife, and if he doesn't you've lost nothing. But it seems flawed to me, because there's a lot of dieties out there to choose from, so you are hedging your bets for a small chance of success. Jean-Louis nevertheless seem to be taking this approach to his religion, even if he knows he's not a textbook Catholic, he tries his best. But when there's only two choices like presented originally by Pascal, the wager does make sense. And we see Jean-Louis employ it several times in the movie after his night at Maud's. When he sees Francoise the next day, he runs after her and asks her out. Approaching her and stating his intentions carries little to no ill result if unsuccesful, but carries a great reward if succesful, while remaining idle has no possible gain. Later Jean-Louis is again confronted with chances to employ the wager. When Francoise confesses that she has been having an affair just before the two met, Jean-Louis, fearing it's with Vidal, has the chance to not press the issues and let it slide, or ask her who, with the possible consequence that either she or he will end the relationship as a result, with the only gain being satisfying his own curiosity. Five years down the road, Jean-Louis and Francoise on a holiday by the sea meets Maud again. Without it being said, it becomes clear to Jean-Louis that Francoise was the lover of Maud's ex husband leading to the divorce, and Francoise realises that Jean-Louis must know. Both choose to remain silent and continue their holiday like nothing has happened, realising that nothing good can possibly come from bringing it up. I think this movie shows really well how the underlying math behind Pascal's Wager is applicable often in every day life, and how employing the wager, either conciously or unconciously can lead to making choices in life that will make you happier. Many movies, often bad ones, have characters make the wrong choice in Pascal's Wager, as a way of making drama, which can easily feel cheap. Here it's used as a sort of anti-drama device. Which is an interesting way of using it.

Jean-Louis Trintignant has had a career spanning 65 years, and just last year starred in a sequel to A Man and A Woman from 1966, a movie which previously was featured here, despite turning 90 this year. With 146 credits on IMDB he probably has his fair share of bad movies and middling performances. But he's among my favourites, because I can't recall ever seeing any of those middling performances. He always impresses me. He brings a lot of humanity to all of his characters, whether they are a lonely man stuck in a rut looking for love, a magistrate uncovering the murder of a left wing deputy in a right wind dictatorship, or he's a loving husband taking care of his wife while her health slowly declines. Jean Louis in this movie, could easily have been as dry and boring to the viewer, as he is as a person in the beginning of the movie. But Trintignant bring out a lot more of him. Francoise Fabian perhaps has an easier task with Maud, who is a strong outwardly confident character, who is just generally more expressive than Jean-Louis. But she does a great job of grounding her and humanising her. The two also play really well against each other, and the scenes at Maud's are the best in the film, very much due to their performances.

 

[kihei]

My Night at Maud's (1969} Directed by Eric Rohmer

There is probably no more intellectual a cinema than France's. Bresson, Rohmer, Goddard, Varda, Resnais, even on occasion Truffaut (The Wild Child), French directors are comfortable with issues of philosophy, morality and ethics in a way that most of their fellow compatriots are not. These topics are not usually wedged into to the background of their films, functioning more like subtext; no, intellectual and philosphical concerns are front and center. My Night at Maud's, the study of a rather aloof engineer who perceives his life as a series of moral choices and lives up to his beliefs diligently, is the third of Eric Rohmer's six "moral tales." These movies are relationship movies that all focus on a similar premise--with male figures, trying to live authentically, who are tempted indirectly or directly by female characters whose behaviours present a challenge to their moral and ethical stances. Lest this sounds dry as dust, it is worth noting that several of these films were major hits on the art house circuit in the late '60s and '70s. In fact, My Night at Maud's was so popular, it eventually received wider distribution into more commercial theatres.

Rohmer's film always remind me of the late night discussions around wine and other substances that I used to have in university. Just a bunch of kids playing with ideas and "what ifs" and what's the right thing to do in this situation and so on. Except rather than just sit around and bullshit for hours, Rohmer actually took some of the same notions and made movies about them, movies that didn't compromise on what their focus was. My favourite among these in Claire's Knee, a whole movie devoted to whether a male character will touch the knee of a young girl or not. These movies rely heavily on dialogue, highly skilled acting, precise editing, and subtle cinematography. but can be devilishly engaging if you have the turn of mind to enjoy these discussions. My Night at Maud's is a playing out of the implications and conundrums presented by Pascal Wager (it is better to bet on God's existence because there is greater potential benefit to be had that way than by not believing in God--if God exist, believers win the bet; if God does not exist, non-believers win the bet, but what does it gain them}. The movie takes this notion and examines its practical consequences for Jean Louis (Jean Louis Trintignant). Good Catholic that he is, his choices are informed by his belief that his behaviour must be consistent with his moral and religious principles. Why have them if you are not going to act on them? So he resists the fascinating and seductive Maud, although he is clearly attracted to her, in favour of the less exciting, but far more conventional Francoise, someone more in keeping with his expectations of himself. Consistently he chooses the bet that offers the greater potential rewards or, putting it more conservatively, the fewer potential pitfalls.

All of this is communicated in dialogue that moves from wit to seriousness easily. Most characters in most movies would be incapable of explaining themselves the way Rohmer's talky characters do in his films. The dialogue, and the task of following its subtleties and nuances, provides a real challenge. I kept pausing the DVD to think over what people had just said and how that fits into what they had said before, something that I couldn't do the first couple of times I saw this movie in a theatre. Among other things, such dialogue really separates the bad actors from the good ones, and Trintignant is a great one. As far as I'm concerned he makes transitions better than anyone in the history of movies, though the recently deceased Max Van Sydov is right up there as well. Trintignant can go from passive to aggressive in the blink of the eye, but you never see the change until it's there. Likewise he is a master of vocal shading and body language, both of which contribute more meaning that that which might have existed on the printed page. He lets his eyes do a lot of the inner reveals, but again with great subtlety. He never seems to be acting and yet he creates in his namesake a character full of complexity, feeling and intelligence--not the easiest thing to do when you are initially presented as a relatively aloof stranger. Francois Fabian as Maud certainly holds her own in his company but Marie-Christene Barrault is about as subtle as a sledgehammer, telegraphing her emotions before she feels them. Still it is Rohmer, Trintignant and Fabian's movie, and their art is as obvious now as it was then, maybe more so.

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[kihei]

Loveless (2016) Directed by Andrey Zvyagintsev

A couple in the midst of an extremely acrimonious break-up are so self-absorbed in their own troubles and extramarital affairs that they take two full days to notice that their 12-year-old son has gone missing. With Zhenya, the mother, claiming that she never wanted him in the first place and Boris, the father, a morose sea-slug of a man with a pregnant lover to distract him, it is no wonder that Alyosha feels absolutely devastated by the conversations he overhears from his bedroom. With good reason to do so but with little resources to call upon (his grandmother is a worse harridan than his mother and doesn't care a whit for the boy either), he takes off on his own and ventures into the perilous unknown. He seems like a sweet, likable kid, one of the few characters in the movie that is wholly sympathetic. He disappears from the film but not before leaving his indelible mark. But, though he is off-screen, we know he is in the kind of trouble that becomes ever more fraught with danger as time passes.

The first 50 minutes or so of the movie establishes what losers Boris and Zhenya are, self-absorbed in their own affairs. Boris' mistress is a pretty blond who is pregnant by him and it does not take too long for director Andrey Zvyagintsev to establish that he is well on his way to repeating the same mistake he made with Zhenya. He really should be forbidden from fatherhood, but he hasn't the smarts to figure that out. Zhenya's affair has slightly better prospects, for one thing her lover is a man who actually has a good relationship with his adult daughter. Nonetheless, Zhenya's life is a litany of woe and self-pity. Yes, she is hard done by; yes, her mother is a monster. Trouble is, she can't quite grasp that the acorn has not fallen far from the tree. If Alyosha is mentioned at all in this first section it is only in a derogatory way, and even then he is something of an afterthought. By the time this long opening section is over, the audience can easily understand how these two people could have a child that they have completely failed to notice over the past two days.

When they do finally notice, though viciously bickering still, it is up to Zhenya to call the police and to contact a group of volunteers who look for lost children. The authorities kick in with an efficiency that seems nonchalant but it is really quite proactive once it gets going. The scenes with the cops and the social worker underlines the couple's distance from their son; both these outsiders don't hide their estimation that Zhenya and Boris don't seem to know their son very well at all. Some slight vestige of paternal instinct begins to slowly awaken in both partners, not enough to budge Boris out of his lethargy, but enough so that Zhenya begins to show some feeling about the situation, likely guilt more than anything else. After the authorities become involved, the movie then focuses on the search for Alyosha. This part of the movie Zvyagintsev handles in an almost matter of fact way.The volunteers helpers do the best they can do; the cops stay on the case rather than ignoring it. But no Alyosha is to be found anywhere. Zhenya grows ever more strident and distraught and Boris manages to amp up his concern to a flicker. These two desperately unhappy and unhappy-making people have found a new circle of hell beyond what they already know. Eventually the end comes, and with it, initially, denial. Both parents weep but there is nothing they can do but deny the obvious reality--their son has come to a brutal and cold end. Do they feel responsibility? Sometime a little later, we see them with their new lovers. Boris is already bored with his bratty baby son though Zhenya seems to have made a better life for herself with her lover. They watch as the television blares one disaster after another, hard evidence of a society falling apart from within. Later Zhenya puts on her Russia track suit and runs in place for awhile--A picture that is truly worth a thousand words.

Loveless is a great movie in my book, top five for the century easily for me. Watching it again last night, I was impressed by how the movie is organized into perfect units that fit together impeccably, one following from the other as naturally as can be imagined. It is a linear progress--first there are the wintry establishing shots, than we meet Alyosha, than Zhenya and Boris, than the crisis, than the search, then the discovery, then the aftermath, an aftermath that introduces broader social implications, but subtly, to the human misery that we have seen unfold. Each of these sections is handled like a separate chapter in a novel, each provides us elegantly with all we need to know as we move into the next section. The final linkage of this personal story to Mother Russia seems like a stroke of genius when it arrives. In the end, I was left to think how do people come to this end. It is certainly nothing anyone would desire, but the fate of the characters underscores how personal unhappiness and a sense of failure and futility can metastasize and infect the lives of the people in our care whom we are supposed to love. It is not just a damning character study, it is an indictment of Russian society that too often accepts the unthinkable and looks the other way. The larger implications, however, travel far beyond Russia--it is not as though such social malaise and indifference hasn't traveled like a virus.

On one level, Loveless presents a depressing subject but the movie is not depressing to watch. Feelings of depression may comes later, though. As I said above, the movie is so elegantly constructed that we are engaged in the characters's fates pretty much thanks to the skill of the director, his actors, editor and cinematographer. With artistry of this caliber the movie can't help but be gripping, and thus entertaining. It is a damning tale but never less than a compelling one. We get just enough brief glimmers of the couple's humanity to not abandon their plight completely. Every single minor character with at least two speaking lines is perfect--whether it is the cop or the social worker or the grandmother or the respective lovers or even more minor characters, each seems fully human and whole, some well balanced, some conniving, some professional in their demeanor, some destructive. It is not a movie that seems like a cautionary tale--it's beyond that, more of a post-mortem of a people and a society than a warning to change our ways. Zvyagintsev isn't wagging fingers--he is simply taking a situation and digging deep to examine the rot within. If there is such a thing as a quiet tour de force of filmmaking, Loveless is it.

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[kihei]

My next pick with be The Phantom Carriage (1921). Available on youtube/

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Despite being effectively locked-in, I have fallen behind due to work, but should be able to watch this this week finally ...

 

[kihei]

Despite being effectively locked-in, I have fallen behind due to work, but should be able to watch this this week finally ...

Hey, there is no rush. Ain't none of us turkeys goin' anywhere soon.

 

[Jevo]

Loveless (2017) dir. Andrey Zvyagintsev

Zhenya and Boris are going through a divorce, together they have a 12 year old boy Alyosha. Both are already in new relationships, and only the technicalities remain before their divorce is finalised, such as getting their apartment sold, and figuring out custody of Alyosha. However it's the usual custody battle going on in this relationship. They are fighting to not get custody, because none of them cares about Alyosha, and considers him a nuisance. Boris is more focused on being able to marry his young pregnant girlfriend quickly, so that he doesn't risk losing his job. Where his traditional and religious boss is said to fire people who are not married. Alyosha doesn't really fit into Zhenya's new life either, where she is having a relationship with an older rich man. Alyosha overhears his parents fighting about who has to end up with him, and he breaks down crying and decides to run away. Neither parent realises he's gone until more than a day later. They get the police involved, who aren't much and says he'll probably turn up on his own in a day or two. They get a volounteer search team involved who are willing to help them look. But question is how much they are willing to help themselves in this search.

Loveless is heartwrenching, is there anything more sad than a kid with parents who doesn't love him, they don't even like him nor care about him and his interests. The movie leaves a big pit in your stomach, and doesn't let it leave. Zvyagintsev's style is cold and distanced from the subject. He doesn't emotionally engage with the subject if it makes sense to say that in a movie. He also leaves out what could be quintesssential emotional scenes for the main characters, and at best lightly references what might have transpired after the movie jumps forward days or weeks in time. We only get a small glimpse into the inner lives on the two main characters, who have to be one the least likeable sets of main characters I can recall in a movie. But it doesn't actually hurt the movie at all that they are completely unlikeable. The movie is an indictment of these two people. But also an indictment of the modern Russia that breeds those people. There are many small jabs at modern Russia in the movie. With the police who are utterly uninterested in the helping the citizens in matters where the police should help. The "love-gap" between generations. I don't think the movie presents any relationship where there's mutual love between parent and child. Alyosha's parents doesn't love him, but the probably has been foolish enough to love them despite that. Zhenya and her mother has mutual hate for each other. Zhenya's new boyfriend loves his daughter, but she has run away all the to Portugal, and doesn't want to come home and see him. Zvyagintsev's Russia is Loveless, there's no empathy, no inherent love for the people around you, it's Me First. There are still good people, as exemplified by the volunteer search team, who helps their community for no pay. But even their efforts are in vain here, and they can't stem the tide. Despite the cold and distanced approach that Zvyagintsev has in many of his movies, I think he's a big humanist, and the way he criticises modern Russian society in this film shows that.

I'm quite a fan of Zvyagintsev (less so of his name which is hard to spell, and pronounce), his films are always beautifully filmed, like his stories there's no flash, just great craftmanship and an eye for beautifully composed shots by his cinematographer Mikhail Krichman. He doesn't leave more than just enough for his viewers to understand it, while leaving a lot buried in between the lines or in between scenes.