Cinema is my Life

Creme de la Creme 2011: Best Actors

2012-01-24T10:44:00.000-08:00

Brad Pitt

Moneyball

Jean Dujardin

The Artist

Michael Shannon

Michael Shannon

Christopher Waltz

Carnage

John C. Reilly

Carnage

Creme de la Creme 2011: Best Directors

2012-01-22T18:39:00.000-08:00

Michel Hazanavicius

The Artist

Tomas Alfredson

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy

Terrence Malick

The Tree of Life

Woody Allen

Midnight in Paris

Nicolas Winding Refn

Drive

Creme de la Creme 2011: Best Pictures of the Year

2012-01-21T12:08:00.000-08:00

1. The Artist

The Artist summarizes what movies are all about and in its own idyllic word creates one of the greatest tributes to cinema ever put on screen. Sure, the influences are many, too many too count but the greatest value I can see in Hazanavicius’ picture is its ability to be worldwide understood and appreciated by absolutely every one, with or without film knowledge. After reliving Midnight in Paris three times in a row I thought that my number one movie of the year wouldn't change. Hazanavicius proved me wrong.

2. Midnight in Paris

The ultimate utopia. Woody Allen gives one of his most subtle and yet most intelligent pieces to date. Not only the levels of story construction reach levels of simplicity truly outstanding but also there's a constant underlying intellectualism that so often characterizes the New Yorker. It has been almost a year since I last watched it and the feeling is exactly the same, one of pure cinematic magic. It's not only one of the most consistent movies made this last year but it also is the best written. A gem that gives exactly what the audiences want: to dream...

3. Drive

4. Carnage

Polanski grows older and we grow with him. The only constant: the quality he can assure to each new movie he puts out there. Carnage is the ultimate sociological analysis to the modern couple, a kind of screwball comedy for adults who want to behave like children. Based on a powerful yet simple premiss, Carnage develops into a dramatic depiction of real life comedy towered by astounding performances that throughout 80 minutes makes it a memorable cinematic/theatrical experience. Being a sucker for dialogue driven narratives and word power plays, Carnage couldn't have satisfied me more than it did.

5. Mistérios de Lisboa

Highly overlooked in its own country, this portuguese four hour and half epic is a beautifully made account of the intrigue and scheming that lives within the forbidden walls of high society. This period piece could very well be a contemporary one for its underlying subtext speaks louder than time and space. Raoul Ruiz's superb direction gives Mistérios de Lisboa a sense of scope and dimension that perfectly match the wonderfully written source novel by Camilo Castelo Branco and justifies the extremely positive reviews by some of america's most respected film critics.

6. 13 Assassins

For those who thought that good samurai movies was a thing of the past, think again. 13 Assassins is such a carefully crafted movie that one immediately might recall the genius of Akira Kurosawa in the process of embracing the art of filmmaking. Takeshi Miike plans, constructs and finishes a deliberately slow paced action movie with incredible panache that culminates in an impressive 30 minutes battle sequence that will hardly be forgotten. The set pieces are as amazing as the performances and as vivacious as the soundtrack. The final result is an explosive and rewarding experience and, therefore, one of 2011's best.

7. The Tree of Life

To say that the The Tree of Life isn't as amazing and groundbreaking as fans and critics insist on stating, isn't doubting it's quality. Terrence Malick's project, once known as Q, is, in fact, a fantastic piece of work, thought-provoking and highly stimulating at a intellectual and visual level. It's sense of scope and period is well defined and the sometimes psychedelic experience is well enhanced by amazing photographic. This bold work deserves our attention and requires a degree of focus higher than other movies so that one can fully be immersed in the cinematic experience. Been there, done that. The result: one of 2011's best.

8. The Descendants

Alexander Payne's best movie to date. That should be enough to make it to any list that collects the best pictures of a certain year. It's heart and soul are in the right place and considering that the narrative deals with a massive common place, it is, indeed amazing how Payne, Clooney and the rest of the team managed to transform this soul searching trip in something so emotionally heavy and rewarding. The Descendants transforms the idea of 'realistic feelings' and of what is to love and hate in equal measure. In its last instance, and the biggest compliment I can ever make to Payne's work, The Descendants is a true slice of life picture made by and for adults. A true cinematic gem.

9. Take Shelter

The second feature by Jeff Nichols features a story of paranoia like never seen before. It's simply written and told and yet, extremely effective. The movie had good critics but the awards season came and everybody forgot this small but gripping achievement in filmmaking. There's this subtle way in which the story evolves, building and building to an incredibly powerful and ambiguous finale. Take Shelter is no ordinary psychological thriller. Instead, we are given a journey to a man's head, a journey to be safe and to protect the ones he loves. And, in the end, it is a beautiful love story, the love for a woman and a child. And when the more basic needs are fulfilled, there's a sense of completion that fills the screen in a very, very dark manner.

10. Beginners

Another utopia features in my top 10 of 2011. This time, one at a smaller scale but equally important and infinitely more realistic. Mike Mills, Ewan McGregor and Melanie Laurent come together to provide a nostalgic trip into one's sense of love and forever. A film about lonely people who come together made with such beauty and simplicity seems almost a fairytale. And in a way, it is a fairytale, a great one... one that audiences can actually believe in. And that's why it closes my top 10... with a sentiment of hope to a great 2012.

Honorable mentions (in no specific order)

* La Piel que Habito
* Moneyball
* My Week with Marilyn
* The Ides of March
* A Dangerous Method
* Tropa de Elite 2
* 50 / 50
* Page One: One Year Inside the New York Times
* Beautiful Boy
* Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy

Creme de la Creme 2011: 5 Underrated Movies

2011-12-20T10:23:00.000-08:00

Take Shelter

Michael Shannon. The unsung hero of this generation is yet again forgotten. The second feature by Jeff Nichols features a story of paranoia like never seen before. It's simply written and told and yet, extremely effective. The movie had good critics but the awards season came and everybody forgot this small but gripping achievement in filmmaking. There's this subtle way in which the story evolves, building and building to an incredibly powerful and ambiguous finale. Take Shelter is no ordinary psychological thriller. Instead, we are given a journey to a man's head, a journey to be safe and to protect the ones he loves. And, in the end, it is a beautiful love story, the love for a woman and a child. And when the more basic needs are fulfilled, there's a sense of completion that fills the screen in a very, very dark manner.

Beautiful Boy

It's unbelievable how everyone seemed to forget that this film exists. Crowned by two landmark performances by Maria Bello and Michael Sheen, Beautiful Boy examines the overwhelming sensation of having to deal with life under constant psychological torture and self-blame. Those heavy feeling are brilliantly depicted in a painfully 'real' script, conveying no-bullshit states of mind and paying attention to the slightest of wrinkles. It's the anti-Hollywood version of suffering if you will. The drama and the conflict comes from the inside, from the proximity to which we see the characters and the clearness of their feelings and not from the would be drama queen approach. Beautiful Boy is, without a doubt, the most painful movie of the year.

My Week With Marilyn

This is a tricky one. Michelle Williams' performance is so outstanding that she tends to throw the entire picture out of focus in her behalf. Even Kenneth Branagh, a delightful Lawrence Olivier seems to be forgotten but the truth is that Simon Curtis' debut is a really nice piece of storytelling. The main criticism has been its plainness and the lack of an emotional core that struggles to get us. I feel that audiences are forgetting that just because the movie isn't as dark as Monroe's soul, one should discard it. In fact, it's not Monroe's story. It's Colin Clark's. And it makes perfect sense that we follow the dream instead of the psychological decaying condition of the movie star. It isn't a perfect picture (far from it) but one's gaze shouldn't be overthrown by what I see as mere inconsequent errors.

A Dangerous Method

It's not your typical Cronenberg movie but the violence is all there -- psychologically. For the fans it wasn't enough. For me this is quite possibly the most underrated movie of the year considering the enormous amount of negative critics. Not only we have brilliant performances by Viggo Mortensen and Keira Knightly but also there's this constant underlying tension that explodes at such a soft level that becomes unbearably light and classic, much as the period we were in, much as what Freud's theories are all about. More than a shocking movie - what you'd expect from Cronenberg - this is a refined and extremely intelligent piece of work that builds its puzzle slowly and carefully not to damage the pieces and to make sure that the final picture is as pristine and as perfect as it can be. And that's what A Dangerous Method is all about -- repressing, repressing, repressing!

Mistérios de Lisboa

This portuguese epic based on Eça de Queirós' masterpiece was highly praised by the international critics but it was sumptuously beaten up at his own house due to the apparently 'soap opera' style. I have very strong feelings towards this opinion. In fact, if all soap operas were as beautifully shot and told as Raul Ruiz' picture, the television world would be much more cinematic and thus, much more appealing and rewarding. Mistérios de Lisboa is a towering achievement of epic proportions, an amazing example of what storytelling should be and how to create a sense of scope at the very core of what life is all about.

Creme de la Creme 2011: Posters

2011-12-18T16:23:00.000-08:00

2011 has been a great cinematic year. I believe, in fact, that it was one of the best and most rewarding movie-going experiences of the last 4-5 years and movies like The Tree of Life, Midnight in Paris, The Artist, Carnage, Drive, The Descendants prove that there was a very interesting balance between the commercial and the art-house. Nonetheless, and ultimately, there were several tributes to the joys of movie making and the joys of being part of the audience. It was a year that entertained, challenged, opened smiles and dropped tears. Ultimately, I'm happy to have been a part of it -- in the big screen.

The following list represents my personal favorite movie posters of 2011. What makes a good movie poster? The answer might be obvious to most but to me, much like cinema, it has to do with the emotional core of a movie. That said, I can only judge the quality of a movie poster (besides the occasional 'wow, that is a cool-looking poster') after seeing the picture in question. Then I can finally appreciate all the little hints of brilliance in design, use of color and, ultimately, what is saying to us, the viewers, the art lovers, the critics, the lovers. A lot of posters are made to be cool and they look cool but are they really? No. It seems like a redundancy but in today's world it becomes very easy to conceive a poster and, at the same time, a very hard to create something meaningful. With that in mind, I chose 10 posters that somehow said something to me and that I'd be more than happy to hang in my wall.

The Tree of Life

The poster that resumes the most complex picture in the last two decades. It's a brutal accomplishment in economy, sensibility and scope. As good and rewarding as Mallick's vision.

Midnight in Paris

A line from a Bergman movie comes to mind and that line resumes one of Woody Allen's most brilliant accomplishments that, incidentally, also resumes the movie poster: 'I could always live in my art, but never in my life'.

Carnage

As wild and irreverent as the movie. Look at these colors. It's just a wonderful triumph in design as it is in resuming the entire narrative line of Polanski's latest.

The Artist

Much like the movie, timeless: simple, classic and nostalgic. The black and white never looked so good.

La Piel que Habito

A thesis in bravura. Ironic and iconic, this poster draws inspiration from what is to see an Almodovar movie: seeing everything paradoxically clear and foggy, watching the naked being teasingly covered.

Hobo with a Shotgun

Now, this is what I call a retro poster. A lot of movies try to come with something like this every year and every year they fail. Well, not this one. It establishes mood, tone and story. Everything that you want from poster is right here.

Tyrannosaur

The metaphorical poster of the year. So complex and so deliciously simple.

We Bought a Zoo

The official posters for Cameron Crowe's last picture are probably the worse of the year. But not this one (which is also featured in Jonsi's soundtrack). This mixture of natural life and nature life is just breathtaking.

Tinker, Taylor, Soldier, Spy

Information and how to interpret it. Amidst millions and millions of small digits containing data, someone is lying. Where does the game begin and where does it end? Brilliant use of glasses, chess pieces, numbers and, ultimately, Gary Oldman.

Shame

The king of minimalism. Never so little said so much. These sheets are absolutely haunting.

The Artist

2011-11-28T08:57:00.000-08:00

The first thing that generated curiosity towards this apparently innovative (in a very retro kind of way) movie, besides its surprisingly positive reviews at Cannes, was its trailer. As every filmgoer is aware of, trailer is cut to deceive and elude so it is perfectly normal that one doesn’t create more than simple curiosity for a certain film. As I’ll describe later on, The Artist is unique in several aspects and this one is included for the trailer cut to present it doesn’t do justice to the final product. Michel Hazanavicius, a sheer supporter of an old school of filmmaking (just pay close attention to his OSS 117 series) makes, at his third attempt on it, a masterpiece. For some time now, I’ve been looking for the contemporary filmmaker that understands the mechanics of a long gone era, someone that truly grasps the concept of what was to make a movie in (and before) the Golden Age. Hazanavicius proved with this film that he has the right piece of skill and talent to become the next great foreign director in Hollywood. Not only he gave a lesson in filmmaking to most directors out there (I have emphasize on the way he shot every scene as if he had the Hays code watching his every move), but also proved that the silent, the black and white and the 4:3 aspect ratio aren’t necessarily dead. And I observe his bold choices coming to life in such a brilliant fashion with particular joy in an era where 3D, IMAX and so many other modern techniques enhance the visual impact but fail to hide poor stories and poor storytelling. In a sense (and as ironic as it might seem given the movie’s context) The Artist brings Charlie Chaplin to memory and his masterpiece City Lights and its significance. When the world of moviemaking takes a step forward, Chaplin and Hazanavicius take a step back and prove the world that all you need is creativity, talent and a good story and the public will respond – no matter the way the picture is presented.

The Artist tells a familiar story in an unconventional fashion. It builds on archetypes and cinematic influences of the ‘20s and ‘30s but when it really matters, the differences are there and they are, to simply put it, heaven-sent. Jean Dujardin is a clear Oscar runner-up with his larger than life performance, an extremely expressive one, one might add. He manages to condense and carry laughter, sadness, success, disappointment, tenderness, attraction, love… in 100 minutes of footage. And he does it as perfectly as one could imagine. His inspirations are obvious (Errol Flynn comes to mind) but he makes the most of the parody and turns it into something sincerely absorbing and ultimately touching. Bérénice Bejo proves to be a match at his genius interpretation and the truth is that both create scenes that couldn’t be better in the wildest of imaginations. John Goodman and James Cromwell also give powerhouse performances in their supporting roles.

The degree of perfection in The Artist reaches levels of insane absurdity but one should just glance at a camera movement, at a Dujardin look, a Bejo smile, a Goodman reaction, a carefully placed shadow, or an acute listening of Louduvic Bource’s score to find it deliciously natural. This picture is a work of unbelievable creativity, properly paced, directed, scored lit and performed. But at its core, The Artist is a bold movie, a hard movie to pitch and finance and even harder to make it come to life. Fortunately there are still people who believe in talent and the result is evident: a collection of memorable scenes that will surely be reminded when, years from now, one’s discussing about cinematic masterpieces of the past.

The Artist is by far the best movie of the year and one of the most important of the last two decades. My only concern about it centers on the fact that in 100 or 1000 years for now people will watch it and unless they studied the circumstances under which the movie was made they’ll never be able to understand its importance, not the way we can do today.

Either way, it is a relief to see artists out there who still do something for the sheer concept of cinema. And that’s the greatest gift a movie lover could ever ask for.

Coincidences (?)

2011-11-21T21:42:00.000-08:00

James Stewart, Rear Window

Craig Wesson, Body Double

Alfred Hitchcock // Brian DePalma

2011-11-21T21:10:00.000-08:00

Alfred Hitchcock told François Truffaut on one of most famous books about cinema that he perceived silent movies as the best kind of movie-making. The master of suspense reflected upon its demands: it involved skill, creativity and talent to tell a story with no words, just images that suggest mood, tone, state of mind and, ultimately, actions. Hitchock thrived on this mantra and if he is considered one of the greatest filmmakers in the vast history of film directors, it's because he possessed those qualities. It is not by chance that so many of his scenes are legendary, so many of his images landmarks to identify cinema itself. Psycho, Rear Window, Vertigo (...) all provided audiences with scares and moments of suspense never to be forgotten. And that's because Hitchcock was a master manipulator, a man who understood how to play mind-games, how to affect people at an emotional level. And thus he gave us some of the best moments since the Lumière Brothers idealized film as a mass media event.

Brian DePalma is, quite possibly, his biggest admirer and his cinema reflects the Master through several set-ups, camera movements, shot sizes, montage style and other homages. To even be able to state something like it is to say that DePalma masters the craft of suspense and like its 'mentor' understands the power an image can have on the eye. The American filmmaker always drew attention to his job but one would be glad he did if it is to marvel before such eloquence and grace. But DePalma, an eternal self-conscious, always managed to make his cinema his own and created a very clear visual style that one could immediately recognize. Plus, he inteligently takes advanatge of what Hitchcock couldn't for a majority of his career: the power of shock through strong images. Straped to the implicit by the Hays code, the British had to be more resorceful. And he was. And one might just take a look at the infamous shower scene to understand it. The American can count on the help of a 'little' blood but not without doing it smartly. He suggests instead of showing (like the power drill scene; see video below) but he does it with a bit more intensity. And there's just nothing aboslutely wrong with it.

Even after the popularization of film school in the past decade and with the cheapest means to get a movie done attarcting more people into the business, Body Double and Dressed to Kill still don't get enough credit as modern American masterpieces. But the fact is they are and Hitchcock would be very proud to embrace them as a product that exists because he decided he liked movies once. Two men, very different and yet brought very close by cinema and the art of filmmaking. Or, to put it bluntly, two genius.

The following scenes represent perfect examples of the essence of both silent movies an suspense and what I view as being two of the great scenes that the American cinema produced in the last 30 years.

Cruising

2011-11-19T13:42:00.000-08:00

Highly controversial on the time of its release, Cruising is one of the cinematic landmarks of a no less controversial filmmaker. William Friedkin, eight years after his golden age with The French Connection and The Exorcist gives a provocative look at the S&M scenario in the beginning of the early '80s set to the backdrop of a series of killings inspired by what happened in Greenwich Village between '62 and '79. It is said that the original cut that Friedkin presented to Warner Bros. ran for over 140 minutes and that featured heavy sexual content that would give him an X-rated mark as well as some plot twists that fail to be in the final version (if one looks at the picture closely can easily understand that there are gaps that need some filling). Nonetheless, what is given the audience is a powerfully directed and acted thriller that epitomizes the independent burst of American Independent cinema during the '70s. This film catches a moment of transition, a transition that signals the trespassing of all previous barriers in terms of content to a toning down of what is said and shown. To put it in other words, Cruising is a movie that would hardly be released by a major studio nowadays or a movie that would hardly be made at all. This bold piece of filmmaking is both artistic and entertaining but always supporting its style in that heavy, almost documental, look of the New York City streets popularized by several movies from the '70s like Serpico, Prince of the City or the aforementioned The French Connection.

First-timer James A. Contner (who was given the DP role after Friedkin being impressed with his camera operator skills) wanted to shoot in black and white due to the nature of the topic but Friedkin thought that Gerard Walker's source material was strong enough to make a statement without any other artificial devices. And it is. This often disturbing tale of profligacy creates a strong emotional impact on the viewer that is brought to this mysterious world by a charismatic, nervous and, always, electrifying Pacino. Powered by an amazing selection of music, Cruising cruises in rough, unsteady waters that go from the giallo musical vibe to the Hitchcockian suspense but never losing its unique identity. After all, this raw study in the homosexual underground community continues as strong as it could ever be. Often criticized for being 'anti-gay' (something that I fail to understand), the movie was heavily sabotaged by some opposition groups who played loud music to ruin the sound and flashed little mirror in the camera direction to ruin the image. Fortunately, the exterior scenes managed to be shot and remain pristine (within the films context) and beautifully effective.

But what really stands out is Friedkin's effective filmmaking, his understanding of how to shock and amaze, how to use images and simple camera movements to create an itching feeling that grows into something bigger, something uncomfortable even. And I believe that to be Friedkin's purpose. From its opening shot to the very ambiguous and mind-bending last (Martin Scorsese's The Big Shave kept popping up in my head), the director cruelly states a reality that both bothers and creates revolt. More than 30 years have passed since the time of its release and some call it out-dated, others, a time-capsule. I call it 'great filmmaking', I call it one of the reason why cinema is an all-seeing eye, the ultimate big brother or, if you will, the eye of the century.

Post-scriptum note

*contains spoilers*

It's very interesting how the movie seems geniously book-ended. Cruising starts with a scene that never gets resolution and we proceed to one that explores the nature of abuse of power within the police force, even in the homosexual underworld. One of the following scenes takes place in Police HQ and depicts a very important-to-be scenario: the clarification that not every man that wears a uniform and a badge is, in fact, a police officer.

That takes me to the very last two scenes of the movie, one in Karen Allen's apartment where Pacino shaves while the actress tries on the very same outfit used by the serial killer, and the other in the river, with a boat passing by the city and not stopping for body parts.

Is it Friedkin's interpretation that Pacino was never a cop? Was in fact Pacino the killer or did the killer got away just like that passing boat? Or was Pacino a cop that lost track of reality?

2011-11-14T17:00:00.000-08:00

'It's okay with me!'

Film Noir: a compendium - Part I

2011-10-05T18:47:00.000-07:00

As a true lover of film noir and after having seen hundreds of the genre (or sub-genre as Scorsese so eloquently puts it in his A Personal Journey Through American Movies) I realized something very important that I always knew at a subconscious level but only started to put out to the Universe once my own project began to gain shape. As a result of the emotional and psychological complexity derived form World War II (when the scars of the WWI were just about to begin its healing process) noir emerged in a very cynical fashion. A lot has been written about how and what it started, which are the films that are unanimously considered to be the first and why, but often there's one fundamental aspect missing: self-discovery. Film noir is, in its deepest core, a journey to self-discovery, whether if it's a path taken by the writer, the director or the actor. I am a true believer that this is the most personal style of filmmaking from the wide variety of styles and the history of over 100 years. It is crude, raw, deceitful, complex, inhumane, cynical, sarcastic and, among others, deeply psychological. In other words, it is everything that the human mind thinks and rationalizes every day, sometimes showing it, sometimes not, but always, always connected to the essence of being human: jealousy, selfishness, self-righteousness, arrogance, impetuousness, animalistic desires, darkness. Now, this is quite a pessimistic view about what is living and being human, but what really matters here is the process. And it is a terribly damaging one to all the parts involved. A writer has to connect to his deepest impulses to write such pieces putting him in such an emotionally vulnerable place becoming, at times, hard to wisely manage the flux of information that pours out of the pen. The filmmaker carries the vision and I can only suppose the burden it is to carry such weight, the weight of time, the weight of thousands of years of history. Now, the actor has to show it and he'll show it to millions of people whose eyes are constantly judging the actions. It's nerve-racking. We then have a trio (possibly more) of people opening their true nature to us, showing us what we are, what we were and what we will always be to provide sheer cinematic pleasure to the viewers. Now, that, I call it courage.

This post intends to be a compendium of the pictures I personally consider to be a must see in the universe of shadows and darkness and that somehow portray what I preached above in the most various shapes and forms. I'll restrict the period from 1941 to 1957, from John Huston to Orson Welles.

The Maltese Falcon (1941)

Synopsis: Spade and Archer is the name of a San Francisco detective agency. That's for Sam Spade and Miles Archer. The two men are partners, but Sam doesn't like Miles much. A knockout, who goes by the name of Miss Wanderly, walks into their office; and by that night everything's changed. Miles is dead. And so is a man named Floyd Thursby. It seems Miss Wanderly is surrounded by dangerous men. There's Joel Cairo, who uses gardenia-scented calling cards. There's Kasper Gutman, with his enormous girth and feigned civility. Her only hope of protection comes from Sam, who is suspected by the police of one or the other murder. More murders are yet to come, and it will all be because of these dangerous men -- and their lust for a statuette of a bird: the Maltese Falcon. (IMDb)

'Among the movies we not only love but treasure, The Maltese Falcon stands as a great divide.' - Roger Ebert

I Wake Up Screaming (1941)

Synopsis: Promoter Frankie Christopher, being grilled by police in the murder of model Vicky Lynn, recalls in flashback: First meeting her as a waitress, Frankie decides to parlay her beauty into social acceptance and a lucrative career. He succeeds only too well: she's on the eve of deserting him for Hollywood...when someone kills her. Now Frankie gets the feeling that Inspector Ed Cornell is determined to pin the killing on him and only him. He's right. And the only one he can turn to for help is Jill, the victim's sister, who's been cool toward him. (IMDb)

'Superior thriller from an underrated director.' - Ken Hanke

High Sierra (1941)

Synopsis: After being released from prison, notorious thief Roy Earle is hired by his old boss to help a group of inexperienced criminals plan and carry out the robbery of a California resort. (IMDb)

'Remarkably, Walsh handles this potentially deadly material as if it were the most crackerjack of action pictures.' - Jeffrey Anderson

Suspicion (1941)

Synopsis: A shy young English woman marries a charming gentleman, then begins to suspect him of trying to kill her.(IMDb)

'The disappointingly neat coda has led to the dismissal of the film as second-tier Hitchcock, but up to that ending, the critique of marriage is so provocative, the imagery so powerful, and the acting so good that it's extremely enjoyable to watch.' - Emanuel Levy

The Glass Key (1942)

Synopsis: During the campaign for reelection, the crooked politician Paul Madvig decides to clean up his past, refusing the support of the gangster Nick Varna and associating to the respectable reformist politician Ralph Henry. When Ralph's son, Taylor Henry, a gambler and the lover of Paul's sister Opal, is murdered, Paul's right arm, Ed Beaumont, finds his body on the street. Nick uses the financial situation of The Observer to force the publisher Clyde Matthews to use the newspaper to raise the suspicion that Paul Madvig might have killed Taylor. (IMDb)

'First-rate noir thriller.' - Ken Hanke

This Gun For Hire (1942)

Synopsis: When hired killer Philip Raven shoots a blackmailer and his beautiful female companion dead, he's is paid off in marked bills by his treasonous employer who is working with foreign spies.(IMDb)

'The film's thrilling bullet-laden finale, fast pace and lovely black-and-white photography more than makes up for some of the overt misogyny that was common in this genre and era.' - Erik McCarthy

Phantom Lady (1944)

Synopsis: Unhappily married Scott Henderson spends the evening on a no-name basis with a hat-wearing woman he picked up in a bar. Returning home, he finds his wife strangled and becomes the prime suspect in her murder. Every effort to establish his alibi fails; oddly no one seems to remember seeing the phantom lady (or her hat). In prison, Scott gives up hope but his faithful secretary, "Kansas," doggedly follows evanescent clues through shadowy nocturnal streets. Can she save Scott in time? (IMDb)

'Channeling the spirit of the Russians (Eisenstein, Dovshenko, Vertov), the director uses grotesque angles, close-ups, and rhythms to suggest a powerful sense of seduction and torture.' - Ed Gonzalez

Murder, My Sweet (1944)

Synopsis: This adaptation of the Raymond Chandler novel 'Farewell, My Lovely', renamed for the American market to prevent filmgoers mistaking it for a musical (for which Powell was already famous) has private eye Philip Marlowe hired by Moose Malloy, a petty crook just out of prison after a seven year stretch, to look for his former girlfriend, Velma, who has not been seen for the last six years. The case is tougher than Marlowe expected as his initially promising enquiries lead to a complex web of deceit involving bribery, perjury and theft, and where no one's motivation is obvious, least of all Marlowe's.(IMDb)

'Possibly the best attempt at bring Raymond Chandler to the screen.' - Ken Hanke

The Woman in the Window (1944)

Synopsis: When a conservative middle-aged professor engages in a minor dalliance with a femme fatale, he is plunged into a nightmarish quicksand of blackmail and murder.(IMDb)

'For much of its brisk running time, The Woman in the Window plays like another balls-to-the-wall gem from the rarely-less-than-masterful Fritz Lang.' - Gabe Leibovitz

Laura (1944)

Synopsis: Detective Mark McPherson investigates the killing of Laura, found dead on her apartment floor before the movie starts. McPherson builds a mental picture of the dead girl from the suspects whom he interviews. He is helped by the striking painting of the late lamented Laura hanging on her apartment wall. But who would have wanted to kill a girl with whom every man she met seemed to fall in love? To make matters worse, McPherson finds himself falling under her spell too. Then one night, halfway through his investigations, something seriously bizarre happens to make him re-think the whole case. (IMDb)

'Less a crime film than a study in levels of obsession, Laura is one of those classic works that leave their subject matter behind and live on the strength of their seductive style.' - Dave Kehr

Double Indemnity (1944)

Synopsis: An insurance rep lets himself be talked into a murder/insurance fraud scheme that arouses an insurance investigator's suspicions.(IMDb)

'The film is a brilliant collision of evil and the mundane, and one of the reasons viewers respond to it so well is that it makes the mundane seem a little sexier in the resulting debris.' - Douglas Pratt

Fallen Angel (1945)

Synopsis: Eric Stanton (Dana Andrews), thrown off a bus for not having the fare, begins to frequent a diner called "Pop's Eats" , whose main attraction is a beautiful waitress by the name of Stella seems disinterested in Eric, he decides if he had money she would pay attention to his advances. He marries June Mills ( Alice Faye ) for her money, and stella is mysteriously murdered. Even though June Learns of Eric's dishonest plans, she still loves him. It is with her support that he investigates the killing on his own, eventually discovering the shocking identity of the real killer.(IMDb)

'Its subtle analysis of shadowy tropes proves both a continuation and a deepening of Preminger's use of moral ambiguity as a tool of human insight.' - Fernando Croce

The Spiral Staircase (1945)

Synopsis: Beautiful young mute Helen is a domestic worker for old ailing Mrs. Warren. Mrs. Warren's two sons, Albert (a professor) and womanizing impudent Steven, also live in the Warren mansion. Mrs. Warren becomes concerned for Helen's safety when a rash of murders involving 'women with afflictions' hits the neighborhood. She implores her physician, Dr. Parry, to take Helen away for her own safety. When another murder occurs inside the Warren mansion, it becomes obvious that Helen is in danger.(IMDb)

'The radiant heroine performance by Dorothy McGuire as a terrified mute, who conveys her inner thoughts without dialogue, was priceless.' - Dennis Schwartz

Scarlet Street (1945)

Synopsis: When a man in mid-life crisis befriends a young woman, her venal fiancé persuades her to con him out of some of the fortune she thinks he has.(IMDb)

'They seldom get any darker than this.' - Michael Phillips

Detour (1945)

Synopsis: In flashback, New York nightclub pianist Al Roberts hitchhikes to Hollywood to join his girl Sue. On a rainy night, the sleazy gambler he's riding with mysteriously dies; afraid of the police, Roberts takes the man's identity. But thanks to a blackmailing dame, Roberts' every move plunges him deeper into trouble.

'One of the most daring and thoroughly perverse works of art ever to come out of Hollywood.' -Dave Kehr

Cornered (1945)

Synopsis: On being demobbed at the end of the war, Canadian flyer Laurence Gerard returns to France to discover who ordered the killing of a group of Resistence fighters including his new bride. He identifies Vichy collaborator Marcel Jarnac, who is reported as dead himself. Not believing this, Gerard follows the trail to Argentina where it is apparent that Nazism is also far from dead.

'The movie has all the earmarks of good film noir, with plenty of dark streets and alleyways, and sinister characters and femme fatales lurking around every corner.' - John Puccio

Conflict (1945)

Synopsis: Richard Mason is slightly injured in a car accident but pretends greater hurt so that he cannot accompany his wife Kathryn on a trip to the mountains. He does, however, kill her on a lonely mountain road. Or did he? He smells her perfume, finds her jewelry, sees an envelope addressed with her handwriting. He must go back to the scene of the crime to find ... what?

'... earnest performances of Bogie as the tortured killer and the supporting cast of Warner Brothers regulars.' - Dennis Schwartz

Mildred Pierce (1945)

Synopsis: After her cheating husband leaves her, Mildred Pierce proves she can become independent and successful, but can't win the approval of her spoiled daughter.

'The film is a chilling demonstration of the fact that, in a patriarchal society, when a woman steps outside the home the end result may be disastrous.' - Time Out

Spellbound (1945)

Synopsis: Dr. Anthony Edwardes, sent to replace Dr. Murchison as head of Green Manors mental hospital, is an impostor. When Murchinson calls the police, Edwardes leaves, followed by Dr. Constance Peterson, who has fallen in love with him and wants to treat his amnesia. She believes he is a medical doctor whose name is John. Skiing down a long slope, accompanied by Constance, John relives the memory of his brother being impaled on an iron fence with parallel bars, an accident for which he feels responsible. Police find the real Dr. Edwardes' dead body and John is accused of his murder. (IMDb)

'One of Hollywood's most explicit films about psychoanalysis, Spellbound takes a dubious and contrived approach to the subject, but the stars (Ingrid Bergman and Gregory Peck)shine and their love story is enjoyable.' - Emanuel Levy

The Lost Weekend (1945)

Synopsis: Don Birnam, long-time alcoholic, has been "on the wagon" for ten days and seems to be over the worst; but his craving has just become more insidious. Evading a country weekend planned by his brother Wick and girlfriend Helen, he begins a four-day bender. In flashbacks we see past events, all gone wrong because of the bottle. But this bout looks like being his last...one way or the other. (IMDb)

'It is intense, morbid -- and thrilling. Here is an intelligent dissection of one of society's most rampant evils.' - Variety

Black Mask - Trailer 1

2011-09-19T09:42:00.001-07:00

password: black_mask

Drive, the operatic noir!

2011-09-18T22:29:00.000-07:00

Noir is, by definition, a tragedy. It's hard to orchestrate a tale about fate and doomed and trapped people and not give it the proper dignified operatic ending. Drive is a prime example of what filmmaking is and how to extract the full potential of the visual elements. The biggest tour de force in this cryptic piece comes, precisely, from Danish director Nicolas Winding Refn. The colorblind filmmaker gives Drive a very peculiar pace, one that manipulates the audience with such irony and contempt, emulating, in that sense, his overall vision of disenchantment with life's sarcasm. From the magnificently silent opening sequence the audience immediately knows that the main character is trapped, doomed in his past, his present and, inevitably (like any noir), his future. And from then on Winding Refn builds, shot after shot, the tension to uncontrollable dimensions. And when the crisp, pristine and sustained imagery and storytelling explodes, it's brutal... diabolically painful. The bright mundane becomes the surreal darkness of a filthy Los Angeles paradoxically trapped in its own wideness. There's no escape, no turning back but Refn goes even further and makes the experience more painful, more real by giving Gosling opportunities. It's definitely not by chance that the filmmaker so often framed 'EXIT' signs towards Gosling's back and far, far away from his rational thought. And a part from some more contemporary choices, Drive is shot like a classic film noir that further enhances Gosling's entrapment and all the suspenseful and gritty storytelling that follows: low angles to close ceilings, diagonal lines, triangular shapes, use of shadows, inventive camera angles, experimental shots, fluid storytelling, use of eye-line and small body movements to enhance suspense (among several other elements).

Nonetheless, what really impresses is Refn's sensibility in telling the story. Not only it is incredibly shot and skillfully put on screen by Newton Thomas Siegel (astounding cinematography), but when it comes to the bare essentials, it's impossible to conclude that the filmmaker didn't make every single possible right decision, both during shooting but also in the editing room. Those long dissolves and cross-cuttings tell more about the story that the already inexistent dialog ever would. I particularly would like to highlight a phone 'conversation' between Gosling and Carey Muligan that starts with the 'Driver' and his first few words on the left of the frame and then slowly dissolves to Mulligan on camera right attentively listening and emotionally affected while Gosling's face slowly disappears on camera left. In a very simple process, Refn puts us in touch with two people, a part from each other, people that both know their fates and there, in that moment, accept it. A particularly fantastic example of the second technic would be the final confrontation which boosts every aspect of the classic approach to storytelling in noir making it all the more effective. There are no dull or careless shots. Every piece of film fills a purpose and it's amazing to see such bravery in directing the actors by pushing them to retain their words and emotions until they reach a total state of rawness that pops from the screen as an uncomfortable glance of brilliance. In that aspect, two things can be said form Gosling's performance: 1) his eyes tell the entire story. We don't need to know his past because we can already feel it. 2) it s the characters around him that make the audience connect with his personality and therefore a change from the usual formula of having actions that make us entwined with his life. If on the one hand this is risky since it can very well steer some viewers away and affect the credibility of his actions, it is also true that it is a bold effort explored to the perfection. Gosling becomes this mystery man as human as he could ever be, a psychopath with a heart and a sense of justice. Hardly he could have done a better job living the character he was given. The remaining cast, is given quite peculiar personas and if in the beginning they might be hard to reach, they slowly start to grow to become solid representations of the mundane. An excellent bunch of actors solidify these characters. And also in this choice (among so many others), Drive is reminiscent of Before the Devil Knows You're Dead.

Still regarding Refn's over-talked stylized violence I'd like to point out the intelligence in which he uses it and how poetic and operatic it becomes towards the end. Yes, it is incredibly damaging to the eyesight but also impossible to not look at. It establishes mood and intention and once it starts (quite softly) we can only expect the continuation increasing in occasions and in intensity. Nonetheless, it doesn't become a roaring rampage of mindless revenger. Refn never loses control and maintains the pace established, storytelling-wise. But the violence grows, reaches its peak and then, all of a sudden, when you'd expect a burst of blood, it carefully decreases in intensity to the point of sheer portraits of what the violence might be (i.e. final confrontation), paying, right there and then, the ultimate respect to the classic film noir (Fritz Lang comes to mind).

A big appraisal should also be given to Cliff Martinez's composition and the soundtrack that ultimately serve two main purposes: underscoring the tension from minute one and helping to create a stimulating and somewhat revolutionary and antithetic sound style. Both composition and soundtrack represent a powerful ingredient that potentiates the balance between the elements.

However, Drive's greatness has a flaw: the underdeveloped script. In the hands of a director with another vision, Drive might have very well been a failure. Refn makes the screenplay fly but the truth is that we are introduced to script elements that don't really pay off. We are first put in a world that quickly dissipates in its fakeness pushing to the boundaries the point of connection between audiences and its characters. Also, the introduction of certain subplots generate expectations that are never met. And if it's perfectly understandable that, in a sense, that was the purpose, it can't be denied that one might want to see and know more. That's well rooted into human curiosity. I wouldn't say that this aspect defines what Drive is and what it means but, as I see it, and as a ultimate believer in storytelling starting in the script, this fact doesn't allow Drive to reach total harmony.

Drive is, in it's final instance, a strike of hope in current Hollywood: a reasonably mainstream movie that actually excels (cum laude intended) the regular standards. And in a sense of personal expectations, this may very well be a reminiscence of when Fritz Lang, Billy Wilder and so many others first came to America in the late '20s, early '30s and changed the industry with their 'mad', pessimistic and ironic european vision. And most of them embraced the truest genre (or sub-genre as Martin Scorsese, Paul Schrader and others put it) in the several branches of filmmaking: noir, the only genre that actually understands the human being, the human mind and the human deepest and rooted desires and motivations. Refn's picture becomes a contemporary interpretation of a classical concept and it is my belief that other filmmakers will understand this point and rise to the occasion in a currently hurt society that every day crumbles a little bit more towards the fate we all know that will eventually come. More than a Refnesque stylized violence, Drive is representative of a very sane realism by an intelligent director that knows how to tell a story and shock its audiences.

Drive feels like the start to something else, something yet undefined but something promising.

Contagion

2011-09-11T23:06:00.000-07:00

In 1989, Steven Soderbergh did the unthinkable in Cannes. At the age of 26, he became the first the director to win the Palm D'Or with his picture-debut Sex, Lies and Videotape. As the years passed by and he managed to direct movie after movie, his name started to gain a consistency in the panorama of independent filmmaking. In 1998 Soderbergh would release Out of Sight and with this new recent and massive hit, his career path changed and, as I see it, in a brilliant manner. In rudimentary terms I would say he started making one movie for the general public and another for 'his' public.

(NOTE: Before we go any further I'd just like to clarify that, obviously enough, there is no written distinction about what is commercial and what is not. One can only give an approximate estimation of what the reality looks like considering years of box office statistics. After all, when we boil it down to the bare essential, being commercial means being financially successful. And this idea of Soderbergh's career choice is exclusively mine after careful analysis of primary intentions.)

But if we dig in deeper we easily understand that his more commercial films (i.e. the Oceans trilogy) always carried a specific trademark, a kind of auteurship that is easily recognizable. And truth be told, Soderbergh's movies aren't your usual feature film experiences, even if they have other intents than merely feeding the independent community. There are specific traits to the cinematography (which he usually adds to his directing job) and to the tempo of his projects that make it more than your common blockbuster/feel-good/entertainment experience. His latest released film, Contagion, falls somewhere in between the two worlds. It clearly has commercial ambitions but there is a rawness in the way Soderbergh photographs the events that turn this piece into an entire different beast. And that is the reason behind the most successful aspects of the film but also the worst.

On the one hand Contagion is uneven in the narrative structure, unbalanced in the storytelling and sometimes superfluous. The film approaches a very familiar theme that is, inevitably, in the recent memory of the worldwide population. And if it's particular effective in its first 15 minutes, it starts losing its power with the multitude of subplots, some of them even completely expendable (no matter how good Jude Law was in his character, the truth is that his storyline didn't particularly contributed to the overall theme of the movie). Therefore, when Contagion reaches what I see being its climax, that is, the sequence where anarchy takes place in a very dark, claustrophobic and essentially scary manner, there is no real connection to the prior events, making it weaker and less effective than what probably is on paper. If it is a fact that this prequel to a post-apocalyptic movie isn't trying to imitate, it's not entirely successful in creating its own style. However, when it hits the right note, the impact is strong. And it's scary. It's a much scarier movie than the so-called 'horror pictures' that are released week after week. This statement rides along the concept of 'humanity' that, as cinema's history tends to show us, has lost its faith in social order a long time ago (or never actually had it). People are scary organisms by their nature. When they become irrational beings with nothing to lose, the dimension of fear reaches new heights. And for the brief half an hour that Contagion shows us that, there is this hanging sense of claustrophobia that works is a very deep way. Also, its stellar cast invariably gives dynamism to the sequences that actually take the method serious. With the exception of a weak and uninspired Marion Cotillard, all performers give rock-solid interpretations that further enhance the audience's connection to the already dramatic story.

Contagion isn't as good as it should be but it transmits its message in a very effective manner. After all, we are dealing with a director that is more than capable in manipulating emotions and telling a good story. It is specifically worth it by the 'public service announcement' and by the way Soderbergh shoots it.

Just like in Don Siegel's Invasion of the Body Snatchers: 'They're here already. You're next'. And as a human, that's what scares me the most.

Our Idiot Brother

2011-09-07T22:59:00.000-07:00

Our Idiot Brother is exactly everything that the trailer posted above says it is. This results in of two possible outcomes for the viewer: either you go with Paul Rudd's flow and your experience is as pleasant as a relaxed day over barbecue in the countryside with your friends and family, or, it will quickly become an unbearable sequence of images that promote the stupidity of the lead character. Jesse Peretz's picture possesses a singularity rarely seen in the spectrum of american independent comedies: a story. While trying to be corky it doesn't come out as fake and a great deal of it's lies on the particular route the screenplay takes. In every genre, but specially in drama, the filmmaker's success in the manipulation of the audience's emotions is greatly related to the degree of change that the lead character goes through. An experienced director will be able to show rather than tell and, if we are dealing with a well written persona, chances are that the viewer is going to accompany the emotional development closely. In Our Idiot Brother, the character basically remains the same and any attempt to try to convince us otherwise (which there are) is just shrewd by the basic traits of Ned's personality (Paul Rudd). And that actually makes the character a living and breathing organism. However, everyone around Ned changes and, truth be told, considering the amount of characters the film has, this is one hell of a screenplay. In 95 minutes we are perfectly capable of understanding their motivations, what is going on on their lives and where they are headed. Now, this last statement isn't necessarily a bad thing. As Sidney Lumet once put it: 'knowing where the story is headed doesn't mean it's predictable'. But once we are confronted with that peculiar family lunch we can guess what is going to happen to each family member. Nonetheless, Ned pulls us in for the ride and in this case he his the guy that, without knowing, is thinking outside the box.

For those that happen to tend to the second possible experience, it's perfectly understandable why you may not stand this movie. The lead character is inevitably dumb but comes across as the most intelligent of all characters. Well, that's just not believable considering all the circumstances that are given to us. Also, Our Idiot Brother swims in a very particular type of humor that isn't sophisticated nor raunchy which can throw off a lot of viewers uneasy of where to stand. I felt that the essence of the comedy was pretty well captured and, above all, made this film down to earth and essentially honest. Our Idiot Brother isn't supposed to be an overall movie for the ages, but is a well made slice-of-life-independent-comedy that delivers absolutely everything that promises. Besides, it contains a great performance by Paul Rudd and is well supported by an experienced cast that not only gives name to the picture but also talent. Take for what it is and you might very well board Ned's journey.

NYPD Festival at Film Forum in New York City

2011-09-05T23:02:00.000-07:00

NYPD Festival at Film Forum in New York City

A debt, guilt and a great actress

2011-08-31T15:55:00.000-07:00

The world of cinema often draws inspiration from the tragedies of World War II. Literally almost every angle has been covered but there still are many stories to tell. The Debt is one of them. Nonetheless, what makes John Madden's picture such a breeze of fresh air is its approach to character development. While most WWII and POW stories sting their audiences and inject them with the national drama, The Debt is far less emotional and much more realistic in the depiction of people real people, what, paradoxically enough, turns it in a whirlpool of emotions. But one can talk about heavy drama and personal tragedy that begs for sympathy. The Debt deals with raw emotions and, intelligently enough, uses two different time frames to cement their strength. The agile mixture of a morally risky mission with the nervousness and tension that characters go through followed by the cloud of uncertainty and doubt, explodes in an extremely efficient, yet minimalistic bowl of suppressed feelings. And that is exactly what gives Madden's film a sense of depth and texture to a story that may well have become, in other people's hands, a flop.

The movie follows two former Israeli Mossad agents on the dawn of terrible news: their late partner has committed suicide. As the film moves back and forth between a ill fated mission in 19666 Berlin and the present day, suspense builds towards an unexpected turn of events.

Focus Feaures took a chance distributing this richly crafted drama that finds it place between the classic thriller and the contemporary melodrama. And credit is due to the cast and the choices they made throughout the several mind-bending situations. Aside from the usually intense portraits of such mature actors like Tom Wilkinson and Helen Mirren, John Madden could count with the talent of Jessica Chastain. Make no mistake for she is the next great actress of our time. The Tree of Life had shown a woman with such fearless capabilities with a depth hard to find (and understand to an extent) coming from a woman of such a tender age, but The Debt further enhances her powerful and emotionally disturbing gaze. And such a weight poses over it: love, fear, motherly instincts, disappointment, intelligence and, more important than all of them, there's something that tells us that those eyes have seen plenty and they have so much to tell us. While doing so, audiences can't help being reeled to this mysterious world. Her gaze strikes me in a very primitive nature and it has been a while since an actor affected me at a personal level. Obviously enough, she could never gain screen power if it wasn't for her fellow performers whose interpretations of such interesting personalities rise on sight. Even Sam Worthington, getting away from unidimensional characters (Avatar comes to mind) manages to prove that he has, in fact, something to offer in the years to come. A quick note goes as well for the haunting Jesper Christensen that incarnates pure evil with, at the same time, such grace and a monster-like calmness.

If the web of emotions works in The Debt, there are three fundamental players that should be thanked: Alexander Berner (editor) and Alastair Sirkett and Peter Lindsay (sound department) who clean up Madden's vision to perfection. Often, these people are not acknowledged but the fact is without their expertise, The Debt would hardly have the impact that is has.

For some reason the movie was hiding from audiences for a couple of months and a nod to the next year's Academy Awards seems improbable but Matthew Vaughn, Jane Goldman and Peter Straugahn's pen as well as some of the cast's tour de forces deserve some distinction in a cinematic year that had very few good pieces to offer.

In the end, and to its core, The Debt is about primitive feelings: fear, love, guilt and the never-ending search for truth and peace of mind. How does one write that? One doesn't. One sees it!

Sometimes is good to let go off some steam

2011-08-29T08:31:00.001-07:00

Bogie's last...

2011-08-28T19:40:00.000-07:00

... is also one of Bogie's best. But that's not all that makes The Harder They Fall a phenomenal cinematic achievement. Not only was one of the movies that inspired the nouvelle vague (a very good tribute is paid in the opening sequence of Godard's A Bout the Souffle) but also represents one of the most touching, tense and melodramatic portraits of the boxing world.

In fact, Mark Robson's Palm D'Or nominee may very well be the most outrageous depiction of the ins and outs of boxing corruption as seen through an outside view. In this, shall we call it, film noir (all the classic elements are there but there is a sense of avant garde filmmaking that inevitably places it ahead of its time) there aren't, arguably, many good guys. Only some whose conscious sometimes strikes harder than it should. The paradoxical feelings of some of the characters (mainly Bogie's) are the only constant in this gritty and edgy tale of morality who stands unique in its raw painting.

My all time favorite boxing movie (and all time favorite in general) will always be Raging Bull. Nonetheless, it's hard to compare two completely different styles in the fighting world. The first takes its basis from the real life, the notable Jake LaMotta, while the latter ignores the sport to a certain extent to focus on people, personalities and actions. Technical aspects aside, it's impossible not to admire both in equal measure. The only problem in The Harder They Fall is not getting the recognition that it deserves for there is a sense of timelessness in the story, the characters and the moral values that defends to the core.

Another interesting topic of discussion comes from the quality of the performances. Humphrey Bogart or Rod Steiger? Both provide amazing tours de force, for their characters have dimension and texture, they live by their own with no need for artificial plot devices to enhance their emotions, no matter how disguised they are by the stainless iron faces. There is a power surrounding both actors, one that we rarely see today and their more 'teathrical' performances (at least to today's unfortunate standards) emphasize the ongoing short fused relationship that might blow at any time or place. It takes talent, good direction and creativity to achieve this constant mood. Steiger was fresh from On the Waterfront's staggering success, Bogey had a lifetime of hits backing him and Robson, although not having a star-struck career as the others, had directed Kirk Douglas in 1949 in a thematically similar movie (The Champion). The result of this creative environment is not also an overall collection of great performances, but also of extremely efficient and ambitious directing. The bold handheld, the building the tension, the shot choices and the marvelous blocking make this one of the director's better directorial achievements.

The Harder They Fall won an Oscar for Best Cinematography. It could have one many more in a year whose competition were films like Around the World in Eighty Days, Giant or The Ten Commandments, all brilliant epic features, but nonetheless worthy of Robson's competition. And the movie is, indeed, filled with prolific beauty as photographing the ugliness of the world the characters live in. Inspired by the real life case of boxer Primo Carnera the movie contemplates a very peculiar moment when former heavyweight champion Max Baer, playing Buddy Brannen, ends Toro Moreno's career (the fighter that Rod Steiger's character brings from Argentina to create a champion by bribing the opponents). In fact, Baer also ended Primo Carnera's career by knocking him down 11 times in 10 rounds, therefore Baer playing himself to achieve the same purpose.

The Harder They Fall is a cynic, dark movie. Hope is scarce and useless. Fighting for what's morally right can be ambiguous. Good versus Evil seems to have the opposites mixed up. It's a tough world, a inhumane one. Also sad and dark. The light comes from the few personalities that are put to test, in spite of their weaknesses becoming a pitfall of suppressing passions. But amidst the greed and the outrage, a very important question rises: what would I do in their place?

The answer isn't very clear...

Gangster movies: then and now

2011-08-26T16:10:00.000-07:00

The gangster movie saw it's brightest days, curiously enough, during the 1930s. The curiosity refers to the timeframe, since its popularity maintained (and in some ways, rose) after the Hays code was implemented what forced the movies to tone down its violence considerably. Well, when we think of gangsters, we think of murder, robbery, blackmail and other rather unpleasant activities. Fortunately, Hollywood managed to be creative and the result were pictures like The Roaring Twenties, White Heat, G-Men, Angels With Dirty Faces, and others that are, arguably, in the same league of such masterpieces as The Public Enemy, Little Caesar or Scarface.

However, what I really admire in some of these movie, Pre or Post Code Era is their ability to tell, satisfyingly, an epic crime story in under two hours (in some cases, under ninety minutes). The rise and fall of characters like Tony Camonte or Tom Powers have, nonetheless, texture and depth, the storyline is carefully developed and there's a sense of scope and a sense of completion of a long, roller-coaster-like ride and ultimately rewarding journey. Movies like The Godfather or Once Upon a Time in America need three + hours to achieve the same effect. You might be thinking that this is a stupid argument and even I concede that it isn't fair to compare times and stories. And in fact, both movies increase the sense of timelessness. But, on the other hand, the rare quality of the '30s classics proves something else, not only regarding the gangster world, but the world of filmmaking in general: a good story can be told in a short period of time. What makes it god is how efficient one can be telling it? By efficiency I mean having a clear understanding of the dramatic construction, characters that stand on their own without plot devices to enhance or diminish their personalities and the previously written sense of completion (and this is an analysis that strips the essentials to the core, and not a profound one).

Again, I insist on the idea that times are different and even in the '30s, after movies like Intolerance, the average length would be 90 to 100 minutes, factor that restricts the writer's liberty to indulge in some pleasures in the construction of the story. The advantage was having to be able to understand the strengths of the story and use only those points to enhance the narrative.

Independently of the considerations one might have on the subject, facts remain facts and, therefore, irrefutable, and the facts are that the movies mentioned above remain prime examples on how to tell a good story. And that's what cinema boils down to: telling good stories!

Prince of the City

2011-08-24T21:01:00.000-07:00

In a Sidney Lumet's retrospective made by the Film Society at the Lincoln Center entitled 'Prince of the City' the movie starring Treat Williams was reserved for a very special night with a Q&A with the actor and the real life detective, Robert Leuci, his character is based on. The movie celebrated it's 30th anniversary and, surprisingly enough, there is only one - i repeat, one - known copy of the movie that was generously borrowed from Harvard so that the tribute to one of the greatest directors in cinema's history could be completed. Upon his first words, Treat Williams enhanced, with no problem what-so-ever, Lumet's ability to direct. Here's Treat Williams speech before the film:

After the screening Treat Williams returned (it had been the first he saw the movie in 30 years) accompanied by the real life detective for a Q&A. This is a short clip about the casting process.

"This performance seems to have been quite complex at an emotional level due to the constant shifts in moods and the progressive psychological breakdown. How did Sidney Lumet worked with you in order to achieve this performance and was it emotionally complex for you?" was my question to Treat Williams. His answer was long but in a nutshell it can be said that Lumet broke down the script, scene by scene and rehearsed it as a play what made everything easier, for both director and actor.

Starting without the due diligences I would go straight to what it really boils down to: Prince of the City is a masterpiece. It is a film made by a director with brass balls and a sensitivity that reaches the realm of human emotions. Its complexity can only be rivaled by its historical accuracy (duly proven with a mesmerizing passion by the real detective that lends his history to create the character of Daniel Ciello).

Prince of the City is a gut wrenching, emotionally devastating piece about morality and moral ambiguity, about how to deal with the choices made at a very peculiar period in time. It is about not becoming a reflexion of everything one preaches against in order to avoid living with the burden of every day having to wake up and face the truth, the bare, naked facts that corrupt one from the inside. Lumet's thesis involves the psychological effect of a known fact: the past echoes through eternity, no matter at what scale.

Lumet was always known as one of the greatest when it comes to directing actors and the results are easily shown in this picture: containing 126 speaking roles, there isn't one single bad or misplaced performance in a feature that runs for almost three hours. Not only is Treat Williams' tour de force, his best and most complex performance of his career, but also gave voice to several unsung heroes of the decade like Jerry Orbach, James Tolkan, Richard Foronjy or Don Billet. Due to the realism of the story and the performances, this one hurts where it hurts the most: inside. The filme is ferociously crushing, a weight over the audience's shoulders, a epic that cements the burden of repressed feelings. The crudeness and rawness of Andrzej Bartkowiak's photography adds to that weight as it captures a side of New York City that very few want to see, let along live.

Prince of the City is true filmmaking, a kind of filmmaking lost in the '70s that Lumet still brought to the early years of the '80s but that soon vanished in time. Its vicious, bold, realistic, no-nonsense and always, always, on the edge. This is filmmaking. This is storytelling. This is Sidney Lumet!

Dream Project coming true

2011-08-13T13:07:00.000-07:00

Old School Noir will be back in October.

Conspiracy - do you matter?

2011-07-04T23:22:00.000-07:00

Much more than a conspiracy theory, Oliver Stone's JFK is a valuable and timeless lesson on what filmmaking is all about. Technically, JFK is one of the most brilliant pieces coming out of the American industry for the last thirty years. The movie clips shown above are just three of the countless examples of the artistry provided by the filmmaker in the field of manipulation, in using cinema, as I always thought it was and should be, the ultimate propaganda vehicle. Recurring to Eisentein's basic formulas for editing via the manipulation of the emotional intelligence and by doing what both the nazis and the americans did so well during the early '40s, Stone uses his spellbinding venomous talents to induce a high degree of veracity to what most people consider to be a ludacris presentation of the most tragic events in America's history. Whether you believe in what is being presented becomes, to a certain extent, irrelevant, for the real treat comes with the production values of this feature. And if the conspiracy facts do in fact bother you, I can only encourage to regard JFK as a mere piece of fiction, much like any other movie that deals with this kind of scope and dimension (The Parallax View comes to mind). By doing so, you are enjoying three hours and twenty one minutes (director's cut is highly recommended) of truly astonishing photography, superbly sharp direction, realistically recreated set pieces, top notch performances and a envious capability in storytelling. In fact the last half an hour of the movie can be more gripping and compelling than most action films nowadays. And please do notice that we speak "only" of a heart-warming, gut-wrenching, nervous and frustrated monologue by Jim Garrison (interpreted to perfection by Kevin Costner) about everything that is (arguably) wrong with justice.

Stone used the Zapruder film, 8mm, 16mm, 35mm, widescreen, 4:3: a multitude of formats to emphasize different moments in the timeline and by doing so, not only he allowed the viewer to place himself in time and space, but decreased the gap between what is real and what is fiction. Reality blends perfectly into the narrative structure at the same time that one can easily mistake archive footage for fictionalized events. Shot in only 72 days, I'd say that JFK is exactly what it sought to be: a controversial success. Carried by a powerful soundtrack by the mythical John Williams, the movie sets up the tone from the beginning and from there on we begin a thrill ride that is carefully split in three parts: the presentation of the 'facts', the personal drama and the final attempt to tell the 'truth'. Much like a play, the three acts are clearly distinctive but unlike a play, very different in duration. However, they hardly seem forced or unnecessary and the truth is that, above all, every single moment feels right. JFK is, for the lack of better words, one hell of a movie.

Wings of Desire

2011-06-06T09:29:00.000-07:00

Wim Wenders, still enjoying his Palm D'Or for the extremely successful Paris, Texas, returned to Cannes to win Best Director and, yet again, getting a nomination for the Palm D'Or. Shot without a proper formated script and doubts towards the direction the movie would take, Wings of Desire proved to be a spellbinding success in the european art cinema circle. Unfortunately, the biggest reason why most audiences know Wings of Desire is through its american remake with Nicolas Cage, City of Angels, which, truth be told, is just another mindless Hollywood invention.

In Wings of Desire angels navigate through Berlin finding what is out of the ordinary, noticing little changes in behavior, desiring for peace and promises of a better life. These are Berlin's guardian angels, emotionless creatures with a heart of gold that exist to protect their citizens, to keep them from taking a wrong turn. But one day, everything changes. And it changes with a speech. A speech that might recall Woody Allen's Manhattan on why life is worth living. To the angel, the one that changes [Bruno Ganz in an unforgettable performance] everything seems more real. It is not about the music, the poems, cinema or philosophy. It's about lying, feeding the cat, having blackened fingers from folding the newspaper. Reality is gained from this outside look, a desire to be human, something that most humans themselves often forget. As if this desire [because that is all it matters here, the desire] wasn't a strong enough reason to embrace the mortality, love comes to the picture. The angel finds a woman, a face, a look, a reason to move on from his sepia world. There's color, a multitude of patterns that compose a beautiful image seen through the eyes that shouldn't be seeing. It's these eyes who see similar eyes, misplaced ones, ones that share a feeling of uneasiness, a desire to find themselves. And like with all emotions comes the pain of the thought. It kills him not being able to think, to process the information that the complexity of the human brain provides. And considering that Wings of Desire is all about, putting it in a very redundant form, 'people's thoughts', Bruno Ganz's suffering becomes almost unbearable. It is slow, vicious, painstaking, overwhelming. Impotence comes over him, even as an angel, a demi-god if you will, and that is when he starts thinking, that is when he starts living, that is when he realizes the timeless beauty of the ephemeral life.

Sarcastically enough, Wings of Desire also follows the life of three different people: a writer, a trapeze artist and an actor. It's not by chance that the job of all of the above include the myth of safety and fake happiness. It is all about creating an illusion, the illusion the angel lives in. And this illusion pulls him to an attempt in rationality, it makes him want to understand the meaning of life and it's only when he stops the search and starts embracing it that he begins to understand.

In a sense, Wings of Desire represents the Wild Strawberries for a newer and more complex generation. It represents a reflective study of the self-consciousness through a beat-up Berlin where death hangs over the people who live in a scared city. Life, death, love, introspection, anything is believable in this surreal reality. It's about the philosophy, the literature and the cinema, the music and the history -- life. But ultimately, it's about the desire.

There is something about humanity, something about the pureness of children and at what moment they lost their innocence and embraced the essence of evil. Not only angels have wings, says Wenders. We all have them. We just need to remember how to use them.

The plastic and the craftsman

2011-06-04T09:46:00.000-07:00

Warhol openly proclaimed that he was nervous upon meeting the legendary director, and posed with Hitchcock by kneeling at his feet.

Andy Warhol: Since you know all these cases, did you ever figure out why people really murder? It’s always bothered me. Why?

Alfred Hitchcock: Well I’ll tell you. Years ago, it was economic, really. Especially in England. First of all, divorce was very hard to get, and it cost a lot of money.

Andy Warhol: But what kind of person really murders? I mean, why.

Alfred Hitchcock: In desperation. They do it in desperation.

Andy Warhol: Really?….

Alfred Hitchcock: Absolute desperation. They have nowhere to go, there were no motels in those days, and they’d have to go behind the bushes in the park. And in desperation they would murder.

Andy Warhol: But what about a mass murderer.

Alfred Hitchcock: Well, they are psychotics, you see. They’re absolutely psychotic. They’re very often impotent. As I showed in “Frenzy.” The man was completely impotent until he murdered and that’s how he got his kicks. But today of course, with the Age of the Revolver, as one might call it, I think there is more use of guns in the home than there is in the streets. You know? And men lose their heads?

Andy Warhol: Well I was shot by a gun, and it just seems like a movie. I can’t see it as being anything real. The whole thing is still like a movie to me. It happened to me, but it’s like watching TV. If you’re watching TV, it’s the same thing as having it done to yourself.

Alfred Hitchcock: Yes. Yes.

Andy Warhol: So I always think that people who do it must feel the same way.

Alfred Hitchcock: Well a lot of it’s done on the spur of the moment. You know.

Andy Warhol: Well if you do it once, then you can do it again, and if you keep doing it, I guess it’s just something to do.

Alfred Hitchcock: Well it depends whether you’ve disposed of the first body. That is a slight problem. After you’ve committed your first murder.

Andy Warhol: Yes, so if you do that well, then you’re on your way. See, I always thought that butchers could do it very easily. I always thought that butchers could be the best murderers.