seenery

Movies/TV I saw last month...

Another Woman (1988)—Woody Allen comfort classic I must visit periodically. I swear that it is underrated.
Autumn Sonata (1978)—Minor late Bergman. Liv Ullmann is amazing as per the usual. Ingrid Bergman effective enough, but I was often distracted attempting to recognize her.
Beyond a Reasonable Doubt (1956)—Elaborate Fritz Lang thought experiment that wears the garb of noir with flair, and typically drives to a dismal but satisfying end. Players and story not that impressive, but the doomy mood makes it.
The Big Sleep (1946)—It used to bug me the way the plot doesn't add up here. I resented the work it made me do for nothing, but I'm mostly past that now. It's vintage Howard Hawks, with a heavy, classic noir vibe thrumming all through, and if that's not enough, there's the chemistry between Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart, which is palpable. And if that's not enough, well, what are you, dead?
Black Sunday (1960)—First time seeing this classic Italian gothic, the first film Mario Bava directed and the vehicle (if "vehicle" is the right word) that launched Barbara Steele. I love the grainy black and white and it's packed with great moments and images, veering between creative, energetic, often chilling, and sometimes high camp.
The Crowd (1928)—King Vidor silent picture with a few very famous images, such as a crane shot into a skyscraper office with endless rows and columns of desks and workers, which Billy Wilder later borrowed for The Apartment. The Crowd is mostly preoccupied with a theme of its time, the transition and tension between urban and rural living. Many dead spots, but goes interesting places, and then there are those amazing shots.


The Darjeeling Limited (2007)—I did enjoy this again. Jason Schwartz particularly good, I thought, and what do you know, Adrien Brody fits right in too. In this universe Owen Wilson, of course, is a rock.
The Eagleman Stag (2010)—An interesting animated short that I learned about from reading the blog Antagony & Ecstasy.
Fanny and Alexander (1982)
The Fisher King (1991)—I think I would have to call this my favorite Terry Gilliam, if only because it's the one I actually like. Oh I appreciate his dogged dystopian constructions and bizarre retro nostalgia riffing, certainly in isolated moments and sequences. But I am also frequently repelled too. I'm still figuring it out. This makes me more open to him. The fantasies, the disgusting underworlds, all feel more appropriate here somehow. The great shock jock comeuppance is so deftly wielded in the early minutes, Jeff Bridges so good all the way (as usual), Robin Williams pretty well used for once, Mercedes Ruehl somehow just right with the Jersey note. It all works for me.
The Gingerbread Man (1998)—Think this could have been better with a different handling of the resolution, but I like it a lot as it is. It's very much a commercial thriller, from a John Grisham screenplay, buoyed by stars! stars! but has director Robert Altman's fingerprints all over it. The detail for Savannah, Georgia, is loving and feels precise, and it climaxes on a great natural disaster, a hurricane this time (compare tornados, earthquakes, political assassination). It's a little silly in places but perfectly entertaining and I think it holds up fine.
The Idiot (1951)—Kurosawa's adaptation of the Dostoevsky novel came out the year after Rashomon and single-handedly cements his reputation for preoccupation with Western culture. It's actually a pretty good treatment of a strange novel, but what it's doing in postwar Japan is anyone's guess.
Ikiru (1952)—One of the best known Kurosawas and deservedly so, one of my favorites by him, a beautiful portrait of a postwar bureaucrat who learns he doesn't have long to live and attempts to find meaning. It actually ranges far and wide across Tokyo with an eccentric structure, odd tones, and redemption on its mind. Not sure Takashi Shimura has ever been better, and he's always good. Definitely recommended.
In a Year With 13 Moons (1978)—From the period when Fassbinder was fully engaged and incredibly prolific. This seems dated now in terms of the outré transvestism in the narrative, but anyway refreshingly clear-eyed for its times about the issues it engages. More important, it is the usual sumptuous visual feast.
In the Land of Women (2007)—An amiable enough mess but surely a mess, from Lawrence Kasdan's nephew Jon. Kristen Stewart nails the agonies of the high school cool chick, which alone almost makes it worthwhile. Proceed with caution.
Iraq for Sale: The War Profiteers (2006)—Yes, this is still me going through Bush era documentaries I piled into my Netflix queue some years ago. Produced by Robert Greenwald. Flashbacks. Pain. Sadness. On the other hand, Boston reminded me that it's no longer the Bush/Cheney cartel running things. So there's that.
The Last of the Mohicans (1992)—Still fooling around with Mann. Must say this did not get better the second time I saw it, but all the usual levels of visual power are there. Just that it's altogether a little corny, and that could well be a James Fenimore Cooper problem. But it's definitely a problem.
The Lives of Others (2006)—Actually needed to see this a couple of times to make up my mind, and now can say I like it quite a bit. Understated story and performance, a fascinating window into that now departed second world of the mid-'80s, East Germany specifically, and a consideration of the surveillance state that puts it among the best of them, such as The Conversation, in certain ways.
Los Angeles Plays Itself (2003)—A very interesting (and very illegal) meditation on the use of Los Angeles the city in movies, composed almost entirely of VHS clips from those movies and filmmaker Thom Andersen's brooding, acerbic voiceover. When people talk about essay-films I think Andersen already may be among the best. Admittedly, it's a form I am both intrigued by and may have some problems with (thinking how poorly I took to the Chris Markers I've seen). But I like this a lot. Masterful and idiosyncratic.
Man With a Movie Camera (1929)
Melancholia (2008)—This is seven and a half hours long. It is black and white. And it is in Filipino, a living, breathing mix of English and Tagalog, which often requires subtitles. So there's some aspect to it of endurance test, I can't deny—it's very slow, but it can be almost meditative, reminiscent of Bela Tarr in the length of single shots. It's often weird and freaky and beautiful and even funny too, and always sharply sad, with multiple tones. I like the one-sentence description at IMDb: "Three people engage in a strange therapy to get away from their agonies." That about sums it up but does little to explain what makes it so hypnotic, so easy to go get lost in. I swallowed it up in a day recently, which was a much better experience than breaking it into four consecutive nights as I did the first time. This is not even the longest movie that director, screenwriter, and cinematographer Lav Diaz has made, but it's certainly a very good one.
The Mother and the Whore (1973)—Masterpiece.
Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979)—Werner Herzog's reimagining of the 1922 Murnau treatment of Bram Stoker's vampire novel is maybe a little slow, and could not possibly be as groundbreaking as Murnau's original, but holds its own. Klaus Kinski has a lot to do with that.
Private Hell 36 (1954)—Ida Lupino stars and co-wrote the screenplay, so she has nearly as much stake in this noir as director Don Siegel. An over-fevered plot (signaled in the first place by the title) resolves in suitably dark terms. Pretty good overall.
Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)—At this point I don't even find this very interesting. Probably would like it more in "right" circumstances, whatever that might be.
Red River (1948)—Howard Hawks Western with John Wayne, Montgomery Clift, and Walter Brennan that I liked more the first time I saw it, but basically solid.
Rock 'n' Roll High School (1979)—Loved this. It's got just the right amount of swagger and a big goofy fun-loving nature but pulls no punches on the punk-rock pedigree. An absolutely perfect vehicle for the Ramones.
Seeking a Friend for the End of the World (2012)—A romantic comedy walks into a bar where it's the apocalypse. Director and writer Lorene Scafaria's first feature actually worked for me more often than I thought it had any right to. It plays its cards shrewdly and gets the job done, and it helps that the principals (Steve Carell and Keira Knightley) have some chemistry.
Seinfeld (s8, 1996-1997)—Funny! Classic! Though slightly off of the Larry David highs and starting to settle into shtick, admittedly.
Shadow of a Doubt (1943)—Currently my favorite Hitchcock. Love the Thornton Wilder elements.
Someone to Watch Over Me (1987)—Another Ridley Scott exercise in the textures of clinical sumptuosity, never quite convincing, but with effective moments in spite of everything (ludicrous story, etc.). I found out via social media that Mimi Rogers is a star with some dedicated followers, though I understand the movie to see with her is Full Body Massage, which I have not (yet). My favorite part was the way this one wove the great Gershwin title theme all through in many unusual and interesting ways. A beautiful song, that one.
The Squid and the Whale (2005)—This is without question my favorite by Noah Baumbach, and seems to get better every time I see. A lot of narrative stitchwork goes into it, such as the Pink Floyd thread, which is worked in skillfully the whole way. And Jesse Eisenberg, Jeff Daniels, Laura Linney—the performances are so good.
The Tree of Wooden Clogs (1978)—Hits all the proper neorealist notes, incidentally suffering from the impulse to use amateur performers. Not many could manage it—Robert Bresson, Jack Webb, Vittorio de Sica occasionally. But there's no denying director and writer Ermanno Olmi knows how to put together a movie.
Uncovered: The War on Iraq (2004)—Another one from Robert Greenwald. Starting to wonder why I do this to myself.
What Dreams Will Come (1998)—Robin Williams vehicle that seriously plays like a parody of Robin Williams vehicles, but it's not. Some calculatedly gorgeous scenery and special effects and a not half bad story about the afterlife. Still, there are many ways to go wrong with such a project, and this wanders into several of them.
Wonders of Life (2013)—The latest BBC science series from physics professor Brian Cox is shorter than his previous "Wonders" looks at the universe and solar system. Here the focus is biology, a different beast, though he keeps attempting to drag it back to physics. But he, or someone, still has an eye for what is amazing and mind-boggling. Some fascinating business in every episode.