Ah, what a week we had here. Not one, not two, but five movies to add to the list. And even better, only one real stinker (and, admittedly, one medium bad one). Better still, this week served (effectively) as my introduction to the luminous
Anna Karina, which whom I am now totally in love (although if you're paying attention, you'll notice that I have seen her once before). Plus, my faith in
Cary Grant and
Myrna Loy was restored. There may not have been anything quite as good as
Ace in the Hole, but overall, this is definitely the best week I've had so far.
Ladri di Biciclette (Bicycle Thieves)
Vittorio De Sica, 1949
Considered to be one of the seminal films in the
Italian neo-realist movement, Vittorio De Sica’s Bicycle Thieves demonstrates very clearly that neo-realism seems to be, at its heart, no different from film noir. Our hero, Antonio, is cast adrift in a world that doesn’t even begin to care about him, where larger, sinister forces lurk about the edges. He struggles in vain against these forces and is ultimately defeated by his own weakness. I suppose it is a sad commentary on the state of Italy in the 40’s that the term "realism" could be applied to a genre that is, in the most important ways, nigh indistinguishable from the most nightmarish of genres.
In keeping with the formal trappings of neo-realism, the film is shot entirely on location, with no (okay, few) major visual flourishes. The actors are amateurs, even our very solid lead,
Lamberto Maggiorani (who appears to be a likeably doofy cross between
Charlton Heston and
Richard Conte). It all comes together to form a surprisingly effective piece. Really, the only complaint I have is that it seems to drag around the middle, despite the relatively trim 89 minute running time. I suspect this is one that will grow on me over time, although I quite liked it as is. I also think that another viewing, this time of the new
Criterion DVD, might help. The print used for the transfer on the Image disc that I watched was beat to hell and back, and they didn’t bother to translate about 20% of the dialogue.
8.5/10
Une Femme est une Femme (A Woman is a Woman)
Jean-Luc Godard, 1961
I almost can’t believe it, but I think I finally get Godard. I’ve seen two of his movies before,
Alphaville and
Breathless. I hated Alphaville and I thought Breathless was okay, but despite the typical Godardian style, not because of it. This time, though, all of the pieces fell into place. The jarring music and editing, the improvised dialogue, the continued assault on the fourth wall. . .it all contributed to a sense of vitality that was very infectious. I loved it.
Interestingly enough, this is said to be Godard’s tribute to the classical Hollywood musical, which is a genre toward which I am not shy about showing my disdain. I can certainly see the connection – the plot is silly enough for a musical, the colors are vibrant enough. . . . more importantly, though, the staging and editing of many sequences turns them into something that parallels a series of songs without actually being songs. Sometimes it’s the use of score to punctuate breaks in the dialogue, which gives the conversation a musical tone, other times it’s the staging and the content, as is the case with the fantastic silent book argument. And of course, sometimes (infrequently), people actually do sing. What Godard does, essentially, is takes the strengths of the classic musical and strip away the weaknesses.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention
Anna Karina as well. She has such a strong and appealing presence on screen, as well as a spectacularly expressive face,
that even if the rest of the movie had been a complete disaster, she probably could have dragged it into watchability single-handedly. She manages to stay sympathetic and likable even while acting completely insane (and given the levels of crazy on display, that’s no small feat). Her co-stars are solid too, but when she’s on screen (which is nearly the entire movie), it doesn’t really matter. It’s no wonder Godard cast her in seven more of his movies. Not to mention married her.
9/10
The Woman in Green (Sherlock Holmes)
Roy William Neill, 1945
Between 1939 and 1946, Universal and Fox made fourteen
Sherlock Holmes movies featuring
Basil Rathbone and
Nigel Bruce as Holmes and Watson, respectively (yes, that averages out to almost two per year). This is the first of them that I’ve seen, and unfortunately, it didn’t make a particularly good first impression. Part of that may have been the rather poor transfer, which looked like it came from a 16mm source and had a ridiculous level of hiss in the soundtrack. It made the movie look fifteen years older than it is. I know I’ve been complaining a lot about that sort of thing lately, but it makes a difference.
Looking beyond that, though, it’s still no great shakes. The plotting is pedestrian, the camera work perfunctory, and the climax silly. On the other hand, though, Rathbone and Bruce are terrific, and the all-too-brief confrontation between Holmes and Moriarty in Holmes’ flat is magnificent. Those two points bought the movie a lot of leeway with me. I will certainly be giving this series another shot down the line, but next time I’ll rent a DVD instead of streaming it so that I can be sure I get the newer MPI restoration.
3.5/10
Miracle MileSteve De Jarnatt, 1989
Four words that should never be seen on a movie screen: Music by
Tangerine Dream.
I kid, I kid. The score was pretty bad (especially at the beginning), but it didn’t sink the movie. The movie did that all by itself. It begins atrociously, with a truncated courtship (was it all one day? I think so, but it’s hard to tell) between the bland
Anthony Edwards and the curiously unappealing
Mare Winningham, all set to the sounds of some horrible TD synths. This is followed by a ridiculously overplotted excuse to have Edwards miss an appointment. Micro-scale overplotting seems to be a recurring problem in this movie, with the gas station confrontation standing as the worst offender. It’s probably a result of allowing a novelist to not only write his own screenplay, but direct it as well. These sequences probably worked on the page, but they’re laughable on screen.
Once the phone call that incites the rest of the plot comes in, and our hero learns that he has an hour until the nukes hit LA, the movie becomes – well, not terrible. Still not good, though. Edwards spends the rest of the movie running around trying to find his new girlfriend, who we don’t know well enough to care about, having not-quite zany misadventures along the way. He also spends a lot of his time randomly running into awesome D-list stars (
Denise Crosby!
Earl Boen!
Robert DoQui!
Brian Thompson!
Kurt Fuller!), which I did appreciate. Unfortunately, any good will the casting managed to build up is lost over the course of the two climactic scenes in which our two leads sit around in enclosed spaces and discuss the themes of the movie in portentous tones and declare their love for one another over and over again..
2.5/10
The Bachelor and the Bobby-SoxerIrving Reis, 1947
Cary Grant is never better than when he’s playing his signature role, the likeably cocky asshole. While that description may be a bit strong in this case, it’s close enough to work.
Myrna Loy is never better than when she gets to use her trademark technique of being extremely flustered and superhumanly composed all at the same time, which she has plenty of opportunities to do here. Perhaps that’s why The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer is a fantastic comedy while the last collaboration between the two (at least, the last one I saw) kind of collapsed on itself (That would be
Mr. Blandings Builds his Dream House, by the way). To be fair, though, I have to give plenty of credit to
Sidney Sheldon’s academy award-winning screenplay, which provides a smorgasbord of crackling dialogue for the actors to pick from. Director Reis should also be applauded for not overselling the comedy, allowing some marvelous setpieces (i.e., the dinner/dance date) to build in an organic fashion, which makes them all the funnier.
All of the mayhem banter almost keeps one from noticing that the central romance is pretty poorly developed and that some of the character contrasts and verbal observations are a bit too cute and on the nose. Not excessively so, though – just typically so. If you’ve ever seen an old romantic and/or screwball comedy, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. Definitely one of the better examples of the genre.
8.5/10
Progress: 35 (Par +3. 3! 3, I say!)
Boxcar Bertha doesn’t start off well – when an 88 minute movie has time to list the cast twice during the opening credits, it’s a good sign that things are going to be stretched to the breaking point. The awkward plane crash that was clearly well beyond the budget of the movie is a bad sign as well. Things eventually do look up, though, and some of Scorsese’s future promise shows through at times, particularly in the surprisingly mobile and dynamic camera. The chemistry between the four members of the gang is comfortable and enjoyable, and is probably the primary strength of the movie – which unfortunately means that the last third, during which Bertha is separated from the others, kind of drags. The final shot is a killer, though – far more poetic and cruel than anything else on display. Not a bad movie, but certainly far from Scorsese’s best.
Les Diaboliques is really two movies in one. The first movie is the passable tale of Christina and Nicole, the wife and mistress of an abusive headmaster at a boarding school, who plot to (and ultimately do) murder him. It’s a little slow, and the characters are drawn pretty broadly, but the murder sequence itself is quite impressive.
