As a huge fan of the Coen Brothers, I am hugely excited about their adaptation of the Charles Portis novel True Grit. Being a Western and an adaptation of a book, 'True Grit' could be a good fit for Joel and Ethan, who have already remarked that the film will be a more faithful and (appropriately) grittier version than Henry Hathaway's 1969 film.
The picture above shows Jeff Bridges dressed up as anti-hero Rooster Cogburn, a pot-bellied, one-eyed US Marshall - a role which won John Wayne an Academy Award. Hailee Steinfeld is also pictured, in the role of Mattie Ross (originally played by Kim Darby). Josh Brolin, Barry Pepper and Matt Damon are also in the film which is due out on December 25th (in time for award season). Roger Deakins is the cinematographer and Carter Burwell is scoring the film, as per usual. Scott Rudin and Steven Speilberg are on board as producers.
There are more on-set pictures from the film here and even a pointless and rather hazy piece of amateur video here, if you're thirsty for more.
Thanks go to Aaron Massie who told me about this stuff via his twitter.
I recently watched the 1969 film to get myself in the mood for the new one and was pleasantly surprised by how much fun it was. There are some cracking one-liners, which I assume are taken directly from the source novel (and therefore may also be in the Coen film), and the performances of Wayne and Darby are really good fun too. It's definite Sunday afternoon stuff, but well worth a look when it's on TV (apparently it is showing on More4 later this month).
'Heartbreaker' doesn't seen to offer a lot at a first glance. Watching the trailer you see what looks like a by-the-numbers romantic comedy, with broad jokes and a sumptuous, Glamour Magazine friendly mise en scène. Added to that is the fact that its director, Pascal Chaumeil, has previously only worked on French television. And whilst its male lead, Romain Duris, is known for Jacques Audiard's acclaimed 'The Beat That My Heart Skipped', his female co-star Vanessa Paradis is more famous as a pop star than an actress.
The set-up is high concept stuff: Alex (Duris) is a man with a gift for seduction so great that he works professionally as a seducer of unhappy women. Friends and family of women in bad relationships call upon Alex to show the women that she is not with the right guy and that she deserves more. He has ground rules, chief among them is that he will not knowingly separate a happy couple. However, this is tested when a wealthy father offers Alex $50,000 to break-up his daughter Juliette's (Paradis) impending engagement, with ten days before the wedding. Alex refuses, as she seems happy, but crippling debts owed to threatening mobsters soon forces his hand and he poses as Juliette's bodyguard. Hilarity ensues.
On the surface it looks like a light and frothy, low-carb, calorie-free piece of cinema and the film's 105 minutes certainly do nothing to challenge this preconception. But it would take a hard hearted and cynical individual not to admit that there are a few genuine laughs to be had it what is probably the most fun, least cliché-ridden romantic comedy I was seen in a couple of years.
One of the main factors in my enjoyment was Romain Duris who is an extremely gifted and charismatic comic actor. I found myself laughing at his every movement and facial expression. There is a scene where he nervously and half-heartedly sings along to the Wham! song 'Wake Me Up Before you Go-Go' whilst driving. He mumbles his way through it, missing out lyrics and emphasising the odd line. Embarrassing, out-of-tune singing is not new to film comedy, but here Duris takes quite an ordinary bit of comic business and runs with it in a way that is genuinely amusing. Like the Mexican actor Gael García Bernal, Duris is able to be genuinely charming and attractive, yet he isn't afraid to be self-deprecating either and that combination is winsome. He is also (as he proves in the third act) a damn fine dancer!
Paradis is less interesting a presence, not helped by the fact her character spends a fair portion of the film being a bit unlikeable, giving our hero a hard time. But she isn't bad by any stretch of the imagination. There are also nice performances from Julie Ferrier ('Micmacs') and Belgian actor François Damiens ('JCVD'), who play a husband and wife duo working for Alex. The couple do the surveillance and research work for Alex, pinning down the strength and weaknesses, the likes and dislikes, of his targets. Ferrier in particular is quite funny, as her character constantly adopts new disguises wherever the group go.
It is also to the film's great credit that the inevitable scene of realisation (where Paradis learns Duris' identity) is not followed by a scene of conflict or misunderstanding as is so often the case in lazier films of this kind. It is for reasons such as this that 'Heartbreaker' stands out amongst its similarly glossy peers.
With its classy, chic Monaco setting and high-fashion characters, 'Heartbreaker' also offers a less tacky, genuinely classy alternative to the horrifying likes of 'Sex & the City 2'. There is really nothing to strongly object to here. Perhaps the scenes involving a silent Algerian strongman are ill-conceived and could easily be excised without doing the plot any harm, along with the entire "owing the gangsters money" sub-plot. But the film is fun enough and is knowing enough (subverting genre clichés more often that it conforms to them) that its flaws are easy to forgive and its joys easy to appreciate.
By no means a candidate for 'Film of the Year', like I said from the start this is throwaway, disposable stuff. It's the sort of film you'll forget you ever saw a week after you saw it. But for the time you are in the cinema it is more fun, more charming and more entertaining than it seemed to have any right to be. Rumoured to be subject of an American remake in the near future, it is doubtful whether the film will work without Romain Duris.
'Heartbreaker' is rated '15' by the BBFC and can be seen all week at Brighton's Duke of York's cinema.
There are two reasons why I didn't update yesterday. The first was rather unorthodox: I was out in the sun playing tennis for a large part of the day. The second was rather more typical.
On Wednesday I went up to London and saw a press screening of Christopher Nolan's 'Inception' - probably the film I have been most excited about all year. After the screening, which took place at Warner Brother's London base, I rushed over to the super lavish Mayfair hotel, The Dorchester, for a press conference with six of the film's stars. In attendance were Leonardo DiCaprio, Ellen Page, Ken Watanabe, Cillian Murphy, Tom Hardy and Joseph Gordon-Levitt, as well as Nolan and his producer/wife Emma Thomas (seen below in a crappy mobile phone picture).
As cool as this was, my favourite aspect was probably the sandwiches laid on for the press by the hotel, which were out of this world - appropriately (given the nature of the film) the stuff of dreams.
Anyway, I was sent up to attend these two events by Obsessed with Film and as such the review and the press conference are up there now for your reading pleasure.
'Inception' is rated '12A' by the BBFC (isn't everything these days?) and is released on the 16th of July (next Friday).
Admittedly I haven’t seen Rian Johnson’s 2005 directorial debut ‘Brick’, but from the trailer it looks dark, intense and original. In fact, at Sundance that year it won a “Special Jury Prize for Originality of Vision”. It comes as a surprise then to find that his second feature, ‘The Brother’s Bloom’, is a totally derivative work – most obviously inspired by the films of Wes Anderson and Bogdanovich’s ‘Paper Moon’. Being a fan of Wes Anderson myself, this does not necessarily make for unpleasant viewing, however it is all carried off to such an inferior standard (visually and in terms of writing) that audience goodwill quickly dissipates and you soon see why the film has taken the best part of two years to find distribution in the UK after playing Toronto in 2008.
About two big time con men - one looking for “something real” and the other for the perfect con - there is some fun to be had here with some amiable performers in the starring roles. Adrian Brody (himself an Anderson veteran), Mark Ruffalo and Rachel Weisz do their best with the material they are given. Brody, who plays the younger brother Bloom, has an improbably sad face which can’t help but register, whilst Ruffalo is good fun as the elder brother and expert con man, Stephen. However, the star of the show and certainly the most compelling reason to watch the film is Weisz, who really gets under the skin of her character and to her credit seems to have approached the whole project with the a charming conviction. Most of the (few) genuine laughs belong to her and her character is a sweet creation.
Unfortunately the Academy Award nominated Rinko Kikuchi is allowed to flounder in a self-consciously quirky, off-beat role as a Japanese accomplice of the con men. Johnson gives her precious little dialogue and she is relegated to a role as a modern day Burt Kwouk figure and junior partner in proceedings.
The irritating thing about ‘The Brothers Bloom’ is that it has some moments of promise and contains some very good ideas. The end twist is not unexpected but is signalled in a terrifically inventive fashion. However, the thirty-plus minutes prior to that are so full of unnecessary twists and turns, with Brody asking aloud “I don’t know what is a con and what is not!”, that you long since lose interest in the conclusion. There are also a great many terrible lines which often fall to Weisz, such as “a photograph is a secret about a secret” or “there is no such thing as an unwritten life, only a badly written one” which scream at you with self-congratulating smugness and mean nothing.
The opening ten minutes, which tell the tale of the boys in childhood performing their first con, are really quite fun - featuring the superb Max Records as the young Stephen. Mostly ‘The Brothers Bloom’ is hoping to be breezy and fun. The fact that it fails to achieve this goal means that it is certainly not a good film. But it is ultimately hard to really dislike a film as good-natured and kind-hearted as this. Which is not to say that I liked ‘The Brothers Bloom’ much at all.
'The Brothers Bloom' can still be seen at selected cinemas in the UK and is rated '12A' by the BBFC.
Set in 2006 'Sons of Cuba' sets the lives of three "Under-12" athletes at Havana's Boxing Academy against a backdrop of political uncertainty and change in Cuba, as an unwell Castro allows his younger brother Raúl to take over power. There is genuine concern and sadness on the faces of the youngsters as they gather around a television to hear the special news bulletin explaining events. With genuine affection the children refer to him as the "Comandante" and they read stories about his past exploits in colourful picture books as part of school.
There is a refreshing lack of cynicism amongst the young boxers as they refer to each other as "comrade athlete" and hug after bouts. When three champion boxers defect for the United States (where they stand to make more money by going professional) there is very real sadness and betrayal on the faces of every Cuban interviewed. A father tells us that one of the men lived on his street and was a role-model for his son, speaking of him in a tone and manner usually reserved for sex offenders or child murderers. When Castro fails to make a public appearance due to his poor health, the concerned children declare that they will fight the US if they dare attack now.
But if the US are for many Cubans something of a pantomime villain there are small signs that the island has not entirely escape cultural imperialism. One of the boxers wears a Nike jacket, whilst other T-shirts carry familiar slogans and images like "NYC". When the children exercise by pretending to row a boat, one of them shouts "lets row all the way to Florida!" British film-maker Andrew Lang's documentary may be understandably light on actual overt political dissent, but there is something bubbling under the surface.
Not least of all when we meet one junior athlete's father, a former Olympic and World Champion boxer who now lives in a run-down, one-room shack in quiet anonymity. He speaks well of Castro and fondly remembers the time the leader gave him a medal to honour his achievements. But there is more than a twinge of regret in his eyes. "They gave me a car and a house, but the car stopped working long ago and now I live here", he says before thinking and asking "it's not right me living like this is it?" Who is to say what is right and wrong here. How should a retired athlete live? But we imagine that he would be living more comfortably in the US and we are left to wonder if this is the fate that awaits the next generation of champions. At any rate, it contextualises the actions of those who defect.
Cuba has supplied more Olympic champion boxers than any other country and, beyond all the politics, this is chiefly what the documentary explores. How has this relatively small, poor and isolated nation bested the biggest and the wealthiest time and time again? 'Sons of Cuba' does a great job of explaining this. We see the children's daily routine as they get up at 4am to begin training. We see how, even at such a young age, they have their diets strictly monitored and controlled. We are shown the national championships they compete in with students from boxing academies throughout Cuba, which are hugely competitive. And whilst boxing is an individualistic sport, we see how the Cubans are encouraged to see it as a team game, playing in groups for their school. They are instilled with a fiery will to win, but also a huge amount of respect for their fellow fighters.
I am not a fan of boxing and know almost nothing about it, but this human drama, so full of poignant moments and extraordinary characters. The young boxers are so wise beyond their years that you forget they are the "under-12s". There are many scenes of tears, but these are shared with the mothers, the fathers and the coach. They are all on an emotional roller-coaster, hopeful that these young children will someday be able to compete at the Olympics. But, as the former champion tells us in his shack, "sport is a flickering moment". What the future holds for these young stars we do not yet know. But whatever happens, 'Sons of Cuba' is a moving and beautiful documentary that works on many levels. Equally good as a sporting story or as a socio-political document from an interesting time in Cuban history.
Claire Denis’ ‘White Material’ comes with many a high recommendation. It placed (joint) 6th in Sight and Sound magazine’s 2009 poll of critics and it was not the only Denis directed film on the list as ‘35 Shots of Rum’ (also released in France last year) was joint 2nd. Jonathan Romney wrote that having two films in the list served to “reassert her position as one of the most avidly followed auteurs in art cinema” and, in the pages of the same publication, Nick James has reserved even higher praise for Denis writing that “there’s no better film-maker working in the world right now.” Given all this praise it is hardly surprising that ‘White Material’ was heralded as the July issue’s Film of the Month. Elsewhere, Peter Bradshaw’s four star review of the film in The Guardian saw him label it her best since ‘Beau Travail’ and called Denis “a poet of mood and moment”.
This puts me in an awkward position as a reviewer - one I found myself in earlier this year with ‘A Prophet’ – in that I am left wondering whether I have the courage to be like the little boy in the story of the Emperor’s new clothes and declare publicly that I can’t see what they are talking about. ‘White Material’ (and to a lesser extent ’35 Shots of Rum’) is a movie I almost hesitate to criticise as I start to doubt whether I understood it at all. “What did I miss?” I ask. I’m sure it’s in there and I scratch my head whilst fighting against my heart in a vain attempt to locate what I am missing.
I start to try I identify what other critics may be seeing: Claire Denis makes films of undeniable beauty and yet they are also always gritty enough so as to escape being called glossy or shallow. They take no particular viewpoint or political stance (at least none that I can identify) and so they can be lauded as non-judgemental and held up as a sort of objective “truth”. They are slow and subtle works, at their finest capable of evoking great joy and sorrow and of being tense and even frightening whilst still being poignant and tender. But time and time again they leave me cold, unengaged and even a little bored.
Why should I be bored? ‘White Material’ is set in post-colonial Africa in the midst of a civil war. There is barbarity and intimidation throughout. There are scenes of graphic violence, which should be all the more shocking by their close resemblance to reality: Isabelle Huppert portrays a woman whose family coffee plantation is under threat in a changing political climate – one which will see her become the victim of a racially motivated attack not too dissimilar from the kind seen in Zimbabwe in recent years (as shown in the documentary ‘Mugabe and the White African’). There are also child soldiers, reminiscent of those in another recent feature: ‘Johnny Mad Dog’. The political relevance of this story and the potential for something more polemical about racism, colonialism and modern Africa are at the route of my frustration with ‘White Material’. It could say so much and yet seems proud to say nothing at all.
Making overtly political films is very much against current critical favour. To confirm this you only need to watch a few interviews with Kathryn Bigelow as she marched towards her 'Best Director' Oscar earlier this year for ‘The Hurt Locker’. In almost every one she declared proudly that the film was A-political and in no way a comment on rights and wrongs of the Iraq war itself. Ever since Michael Moore popularised left-wing political activism in the early part of the last decade (to some making it seem crass), it has been accepted that the best films are not ideological but simply observe an event impartially.
But one of the best articles from the Cahiers Du Cinema that I ever read at university (and to my shame I can not remember its author) discussed how film is always ideological and can not help but be so. In fact when a filmmaker claims that their work is not ideological, instead suggesting that it is a reflection of how the world actually is, what we see is “truth” as they see it: the “real” world artificially constructed by them and shown through their lens. This sort of filmmaking is somehow more insidious and, even, more dangerous. The people who admit they are making a point are at least flagging up that their film is an idea, whereas when Michael Bay makes a sexist, racist, neo-conservative 'Transformers' movie he can call it entertainment and dismiss any political readings of the movie altogether.
I am not for a moment suggesting every filmmaker needs to be Jean-Luc Godard. In fact on this very blog I have lauded several films in the past for their honesty or objectivity ('The Hurt Locker' among them). But to set a film in post-colonial Africa and say nothing about race or politics whilst you are there is not, for me at least, a fulfilling exercise. Perhaps this could be forgiven if Isabelle Huppert did not cut such an unsympathetic and slightly annoying figure as the protagonist. Nicolas Duvauchelle ('The Girl on the Train')is slightly better as her son who, after one encounter with child soldiers, shaves his head begins carrying a gun, clearly now insane. His unsettling presence suggests a threat which never materializes and he is decidedly underused, his motivations never investigated. Christophe ('Highlander') Lambert is the husband and father and is a solid if unspectacular performer, but again has little to do in a film which is content to follow Huppert around as she consistently ignores warnings from workers, family members and the army about the inevitable violence and disaster to come.
The full extent of her ignorance of the situation is apparent when she visits a pharmacy and comments that they have perhaps gone over the top with security, having an armed guard outside. They respond by saying that they fear it is not enough and later we see that they have been murdered in their shop. If the film creates anxiety it is at the realisation that you are following the only character who has no idea what is taking place, or at least a character who is deluding themselves in an attempt to cling to the past. Unlike the real-life Mike Campbell in 'Mugabe and the White African', Huppert does not come across as strong or brave: just stupid.
Her stupidity is not a compelling enough reason to watch what is happening or to care much about it. I can't help but feel that someone like Werner Herzog would have gotten more out of the extremes of this situation and the insanity of these characters and in doing so he would have said something about human absurdity. In Denis' hands I was left to appreciate the stunning photography and feel nothing, emotionally or intellectually. We are not shown the causes of the trouble which is taking place, instead we are just left to watch a piece of apathetic "oh dearism". And that is a tragedy. I am yet to be convinced that Denis is wearing any clothes.
'White Material' is out now in the UK and is showing at the Duke of York's Picturehouse until Thursday the 8th of July. It is rated '15' by the BBFC.
Update: This podcast is up now on the Picturehouse website and should be on iTunes shortly.
Last month Jon and I recorded our first episode in our long-planned "Pantheon Series" of Splendor Podcasts. The last one was about the life and work of Akira Kurosawa, a filmmaker we are both big fans of. However the upcoming show (being recorded tomorrow) is about Michael Mann, Jon's favourite living filmmaker and one I have always been (at best) indifferent towards.
In an effort to educate me and to prepare me for this upcoming episode of the podcast, Jon lent me a stack of Mann DVDs and, over the last few weeks, I have watched every one of his films (most of them for the first time). Now, to get myself in the right headspace for the show, here is a brief summary of my thoughts on the Chicago born director.
From 'Manhunter' in 1986 to 'Public Enemies' last year, Michael Mann has famously focused on male professionals. Men who are the best at what they do and who are committed to their chosen field, usually at the expense of personal relationships. His films are technically cutting edge and meticulously researched. His films, with the exception of 'The Last of the Mohicans' and 'The Keep', always take place in cities which he shoots and lights beautifully. He is "romantic about urban landscapes" (to quote Mann in the splendid Tachen book on his work), often shooting magnificent aerial views and staging many intense scenes on rooftops.
The skyscraper is to Michael Mann what Western landscapes were to John Ford and both men share another trait: a preoccupation with the American experience (on making a living, controlling your own destiny in the face of intimidation and corruption). Like Ford, Mann is a self-described humanist, his work often looking at people from the bottom of society citing their lack of privilege and opportunity in American capitalism for their criminality (see James Caan's character in 'Thief' or Tom Cruise's villain in 'Collateral').
'Heat', 'Manhunter', 'Collateral' and 'Public Enemies' (and perhaps to some extent 'The Insider' and 'Ali') also deal with the idea of opposites. The criminal and the cop, the serial killer and the FBI agent, the proactive assassin and the cabbie reluctant to leave his comfort zone, even Malcom X and Martin Luther King. These men are often working in direct opposition to each other, but are also usually mirror images. Another unifying theme is the Mann canon (Mannon?) is that female characters are often happy to live in lavish houses paid for by their partners (often morally grey) work, yet they are generally unsupportive of their men when they encounter their inevitable moment of crisis. This ambivalence towards female characters is not too dissimilar to the work of Kurosawa, Ford or Kubrick (who Mann greatly admires and cites as an influence).
Perhaps because of the uber-masculine vibe and this lack of focus on good female characters (Marion Cotillard in 'Public Enemies' is an exception) I find that Mann is totally ineffective at directing love scenes. The mood lighting and the cheesy soft-rock music combine with my total lack of interest in what is taking place during such scenes. Whereas Mann is second to none when scenes concern gun play (stressing realism) or a meeting between two central characters (often sitting in a restaurant). Often the sound effects are louder than the dialogue and I know I am not alone in finding films like 'Miami Vice' and 'Public Enemies' hard to follow for this reason. This could support claims that Mann is primarily a visual stylist. Claims he himself rejects insisting that his visual choices are made to support the story and the characters.
'The Insider' (probably my favourite Mann film) is interesting in that it is the only one of his films in which the characters are non-violent. Al Pacino is a tv news journalist and Russell Crowe (in a much better performance than in 'Robin Hood') is a tobacco industry insider and a scientist. Yet the film opens with Pacino's character blindfolded and at gunpoint, Christopher Plummer's interviewer is later shown angrily threatening a man with a sub-machine gun, whilst Crowe's scientist responds to a potential home invasion by reaching for one of his (many) firearms (later he will subtly threaten to murder the tobacco company lawyers). This interests me because, even in a non-violent film about essentially non-violent men, Mann associates the capacity for violence with masculinity and self-worth. Jaimie Foxx's character is similarly non-violent (a cab driver) at the start of 'Collateral', yet the narrative forces him into violence through which he is able to "grow a pair" (in the American vernacular). Ultimately this side of Michael Mann makes me uneasy.
I could not say that I like Michael Mann's films. At least not all of them and none of them unequivocally. My favourites? Probably 'Heat', (as mentioned) 'The Insider' and 'Thief'. 'Collateral' is flawed in the writing but maybe his most purely fun feature. I only dislike 'Ali' and 'Public Enemies'. Both make great use of period detail and contain good performances (from Will Smith and Marion Cotillard respectively), but neither have depth, simply telling the story as we know it and adding nothing in terms of insight. But even then I would never call them bad films. I have certainly (thanks to Jon's insistence and enthusiasm) come to appreciate and respect the films of Michael Mann far more over the past few weeks and would never question his status as an auteur.
Larry David and Woody Allen have a lot in common. Both born in Brooklyn, both Jewish, both influenced by Groucho Marx. Both worked in stand-up comedy (though Allen with far greater success) and though both men have acted they are probably most celebrated for their writing. It makes sense then that Larry David (the co-creator of 'Seinfeld' and genius behind 'Curb Your Enthusiasm') and Woody Allen should end up working together, with David starring in Allen's latest comedy 'Whatever Works' (which also marks the filmmaker's return to his native New York after four films away in Europe). David had small parts in 'Radio Days' and Allen's segment of 'New York Stories', but this is his first substantial work with the director. Like 'Tetro' (also out now in the UK), 'Whatever Works' was released over a year ago in the US, but even then it is supposedly thirty years late, apparently having been conceived in the late 70s as a vehicle for Zero Mostel (who died in 1977).
It is oddly fitting that Larry David should be picked to play a role written for Zero Mostel, David having performed the role of Max Bialystock in season four of 'Curb', that series seeing him join the cast of 'The Producers' on Broadway. And whilst slighter in build, David is every bit as large a personality as Mostel. Perhaps not as loud or licentious as he could be, but every bit as direct and (most importantly) funny. Here he is funny as the misanthropic, embittered and pessimistic physicist Boris, particularly when directly addressing the audience ("I was considered for a Nobel prize in physics... I didn't get it!"). He is joined by Evan Rachel Wood's Melody, an upbeat and impressionable young Southerner who he allows to stay in his home and with whom he strikes up an unlikely friendship. As with all Allen film's an impressive cast of actors occupy the various supporting roles (including Michael McKean, Patricia Clarkson and Ed Begley Jr.) and all perform well.
The problem with the film is two fold. Firstly the Southern characters played by Clarkson and Wood are too broadly drawn and cliché, with many of the gags revolving around supposed dumbness. The targets of the jokes are familiar and well worn (not least in Allen's films) and include religion, Republican politics and gun ownership. Evan Rachel Wood in particular is charming and winsome, but she seems more like a live-action Penelope Pitstop than a real human being. This may be the style of the piece rather than a flaw in the writing, which is perhaps less 'Manhattan' and more 'Small Time Crooks' in tone and style (certainly visually), but it is a less satisfying movie as a result. The second problem is that the film is only interesting or funny when Larry David is on screen and for long stretches he is not.
When Larry is on screen the film is funny, but usually because of his posture, his mannerisms and speech pattern rather than what he is saying. There are some genuinely funny lines, notably in scenes which see him castigating young children for failing to beat him at chess, but too many of the gags are obvious, such as the recurring joke that sees the dumb Southerners mistake Boris' sarcasm for a statement of fact (consequently believing that he plays baseball for the Yankees). However, it is amusing to hear Boris' ongoing rant about how everybody is less smart than him as it almost serves as a parody of the Allen character from many of his greatest films like 'Annie Hall' or 'Manhattan'.
In many ways 'Whatever Works' is reminiscent of 'Manhattan' in that the central character is romantically involved with a younger woman who he tries to educate and improve. He is patronising towards her, calling her a "sweet kid" and questions her emotional development. Both go on the same journey, becoming more accepting of those they consider beneath them. Borris is eventually able to contemplate a relationship with the most irrational and non-scientific of people: a psychic.
It is hard to find fault with the film's philosophy, that (to quote the closing monologue) "whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can filch or provide, every temporary measure of grace, whatever works." Woody's heart is in the right place and his suggestion that we should embrace love wherever we find it (possibly a point he is compelled to make as a means of self-defense against outside judgements of his own personal life) is a wise one. But from an intellectual standpoint 'Whatever Works' is certainly Allen-lite.
It is hard to imagine that 'Whatever Works' will be an enduring classic of the Woody Allen canon. It is pleasant enough to watch. There are some funny moments and it's always nice to see Woody shoot his Autumnal romanticised view of New York and to hear his familiar musical choices (the highlight being Groucho Marx singing "Hello, I Must Be Going" from 'Animal Crackers' over the opening credits). But there is nothing fresh here, nothing to make the film stand out. In the end it is less than the sum of its parts, the dream pairing of Larry David and Woody Allen less satisfying than watching an episode of 'Curb Your Enthusiasm' or a vintage Woody Allen movie. I suspect 'Whatever Works' was not simply a screenplay put on hiatus due to the death of Zero Mostel, but rather because its writer used to have better ideas and make better films.
'Whatever Works' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is still on general release in cinemas across the UK. It is playing at the Duke of York's Picturehouse in Brighton until next Thursday.
'The Godfather'. 'The Conversation'. 'Apocalypse Now'. With these three films Francis Ford Coppola had, by 1979, boldly and permanently engraved his name into cinema history. So universally admired and influential are those three films that his years spent as a hired gun in order to pay off debts (making such films as 'Jack' and the second 'Godfather' sequel) have done little to damage his reputation or to tarnish his legacy. With his place in history assured, the elder statesman of cinema is now able to make films (more or less) for his own sake and whenever he sees fit. His output has sharply declined over the last decade, but his recent movies are smaller and much more personal. None more so then 'Tetro', the film released in the US over a year ago (on June 11th 2009 to be precise) and the first to carry a solo writing credit for Coppola since 'The Conversation' in 1974.
'Tetro' stars enfant terrible Vincent Gallo in the title role as a man who has forsaken his past and, to some extent, his future in order to live a life of quiet anonymity. Maribel Verdú plays his supportive and kind-hearted girlfriend Miranda, whilst obscure television bit-part actor Alden Ehrenreich is his brother Bennie. Gallo, in spite of his reputation as a combative and sometimes spiteful man off camera, imbues Tetro with a warmth and vulnerability which is sometimes quite moving. He convinces completely as the suffering artist type and performs with an undeniable intensity.
Equally good is Verdú, who almost stole the show from Bernal and Luna in 2001's 'Y tu mamá también' and is just as brilliant a performer here. It is unthinkable that aside from roles in 'Pan's Labyrinth' and the 2004 flop 'The Alamo' Verdú has not been a regular sight on international movie screens. But happily Coppola has taken notice and in 'Tetro' she is able to showcase her talent: giving Miranda strength and intelligence, but also compassion and genuine sex appeal. Despite these winning performances, Alden Ehrenreich gives the star turn here, being reminiscent of a young Leonardo DiCaprio (with maybe a hint of Brando) in his facial expressions, mannerisms and delivery. Already tipped by some as the next Spiderman actor, Ehrenreich could definitely be a major star in the near future. There is also a small but welcome role for Rodrigo de la Serna (whose most famous role was in Walter Salles' 'The Motorcycle Diaries' in 2004) who is a cheerful screen presence as Tetro's friend Jose.
Mihai Malaimare Jr. (who also worked on Coppola's 2007 film 'Youth Without Youth') is responsible for the film's remarkable black and white photography, mostly shot in Spain and Argentina (where the film is set). You will not see a more beautifully composed and (dare I say) stylishly shot film this year. I was concerned before seeing it that 'Tetro' could turn out to be nothing more than art for arts sake: a pretentious and self-indulgent work and an exercise in style over substance. Yet 'Tetro' is in fact mainly driven by its story and the relationships between its central characters.
The narrative is admittedly slight and could probably be summarised in a few sentences, but the film's form helps to convey the emotional journey undertaken by Tetro and Bennie in coming to terms with the family's past. I don't know enough about Coppola's background to be certain, but this story of the rivalry between a fathers and sons feels as though it is of personal significance to the director. Tetro's flashbacks, which (in an amusing reversal of cinematic convention) take place in colour and a different aspect ratio to the rest of the film, are pretty successful at establishing a very real cause for the character's hurt. They are also somehow among the most convincing "memories" ever committed to film, feeling like incomplete sketches of moments in time. Not so much what happened, but what Tetro feels about what happened from his viewpoint.
Sometimes the film is self-consciously flashy, perhaps to its detriment as it distracts from the action at hand (such as when Tetro is seen speaking to Bennie in silhouette - cool as the image is). There are also colourful, CGI-infused scenes of dance in homage to the great ballet films of old (such as 'The Red Shoes' or 'The Tales of Hoffmann') which, for me at least, fell flat and seemed a little self-indulgent. But for every frame of misplaced virtuosity there is a genuine moment of genius. For example, there is a brilliant and jarring reverse angle involving a motorcycle accident which is powerful and magnificently executed.
Perhaps the film is too serious, too humourless for too much of its running time (which is overlong at just over two hours). It is intensely dramatic, and it is not an exaggeration to say it is almost operatic - not unlike Coppola's 'Godfather' films. This is clearly the desired effect but it leaves me feeling a little cold and disconnected. There are also some interesting themes which are not explored to a satisfactory degree. For instance, Tetro challenges Bennie to murder him in order to make the ending of his play more truthful. This idea about the relationship between art and "truth" and the supposed virtue in linking one to the other might have been better developed.
Despite these flaws there is almost no sensible argument for denying that 'Tetro' is Francis Ford Coppola's most interesting film since 1983's 'Rumble Fish' (with which the film bears more than a passing resemblance). That is not to say it is the most enjoyable or fun since that date, but it is certainly his most complete movie in a long while. It is written, directed and produced by Coppola with clear engagement and real love. In 'Tetro' we may have evidence that one of the medium's most celebrated artists has rediscovered his muse. A fact which we can only hope will lead to more interesting films in the future. If it doesn't turn out that way, then it is at least a respectable closing chapter to an interesting career.
'Tetro' is rated '15' by the BBFC and can still be seen at selected cinemas in the UK. The Duke of York's have two shows left at the time of writing: 13.30 and 18.15 on Thursday the 1st of July.
Today marks the 90th birthday of Mr. Ray Harryhausen, the legendary stop-motion animator beloved for his groundbreaking effects work in a number of Hollywood movies from the 1940s up until the 1981 film 'Clash of the Titans' (arguably his most famous work). To celebrate this almighty birthday, here are clips of some of his most admired work:
Willis O'Brien won an Academy Award for Best Special Effects in 1949, thanks in no small part to Harryhausen's work as the animator of the titular ape in 'Mighty Joe Young' (appropriate as Harryhausen fell in love with cinema and animation watching another ape, King Kong, in 1933).
'The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms' (1954) was a real landmark movie, directly inspiring Eiji Tsuburaya's work on the first Japanese 'Godzilla' movie later that same year (and by virtue of that, all of the big monster movies of the 50s and 60s).
Harryhausen provided effects for many more monster movies (such as 'It Came from Beneath the Sea' in 1955) but in the 1956 film 'Earth Versus the Flying Saucers' Harryhausen turned to animating alien invaders. As you can see from watching this clip, the animation in this film was a big influence on Tim Burton's 1996 'Mars Attacks!'.
His first work on colour, 'The 7th Voyage of Sinbad' (1958) started perhaps Harryhausen's most famous work on swashbuckling sword and sandal adventure stories which really allowed him the scope to develop lots of different creatures and action sequences. Harryhausen would work on two further Sinbad films in the 1970s: 'The Golden Voyage of Sinbad' in 1974 and 'Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger' in 1977.
The 1963 'Jason and the Argonauts' contains probably the most haunting and famous Harryhausen sequence of all: the battle with the skeleton warriors. The jerky nature of the animation gives it a visceral quality unmatched in the cleanness of modern CGI. Watch it in full below:
One that always stuck in my mind (probably because of my dinosaur fixation) was the 1966 film 'One Million Years B.C'. I have always remembered the bit where a lava flow falls on top of a woman who is running away. The film is pretty dire, but there are some great effects to be seen, including the historically impossible sight of cave men fighting an Allosaurus with their spears. But you don't go to see a Harryhausen movie for a history lesson!
As mentioned above, the most well-loved of them all is probably the original 1981 movie, 'Clash of the Titans' (like 'Mighty Joe Young', the victim of a shoddy remake). Watch the trailer below, if only to laugh when a man shouts "destroy Argos!".
Anyway, happy birthday Ray and may we be wishing you a happy century in ten years time! Thanks goes to Sam Clements of the Ritzy Picturehouse in Brixton for tweeting Ray the first birthday message and starting this whole thing off. If you're on twitter, follow Simon Pegg's example and join Sam in wishing: #HappyBirthdayRay
If you want to watch some Harryhausen films in full, the BFI Southbank had some signed DVD boxsets for sale last time I was there (last week). So snap one of those up if you are a fan of the great man!
Out today is my very first episode presenting the Picturehouse film preview show 'Flick's Flicks'. In it I preview 'Leaving', 'Heartbreaker', 'White Material' and 'Inception' and I also talk to Jon (my co-host on the Splendor Podcast) about the Duke of York's fundraising efforts to save a small Nicaraguan cinema. The Cini Esteli is in danger of closure and a special screening of 'Walker' with a video introduction specially recorded by director (and charity patron) Alex Cox is taking place on Sunday the 18th of July.
Although most of my time in Devon has been spent being driven down identical narrow roads or sitting on beaches (or waiting for my nan outside the Newquay branch of Peacocks), I have managed to see two films on DVD. The first was 'The Men Who Stare at Goats' on Friday night, which I judged to be passable if ultimately disposable fare. However, less amusing (and also featuring George Clooney) was last nights viewing: 'Welcome to Collinwood'. A film not even saved by the presence of Sam Rockwell.
In many ways 'Collinwood' is almost a remake of Woody Allen's 'Small Time Crooks' from two years prior (apparently itself a loose remake of the 1958 film 'Big Deal on Madonna Street'). As in 'Small Time Crooks' a group of ineffectual would-be criminals gather for one big heist that involves using one vacant property to break into another. They share gags too: in both films breaking through the wall leads to accidentally hitting a water pipe. As if to acknowledge these apparent similarities the film's end credits are in the Allen style (you'd know it if you saw it) and the incidental music (by Mark Mothersbaugh) is also a familiar easy going jazz.
This is all well and good. After all, if you're going to steal etc. The problem is not that it's shamelessly derivative, but that most of the humour involves pratfalls and physical business. The thing with that sort of humour is that no everyone can pull it off. You have to a skilled physical comedian to really make falling over funny. Tragically none of the actors here (in an ensemble cast that also includes William H. Macy, Luis Guzman and Michael Jeter) have it in them and the various scenes of peoples pants falling down do not register as much as a smile. I speak, of course, for myself. My nan was in fits of laughter every time somebody fell off a ladder or fell into some water, so what do I know?
Often the film changes gear and strains for poignancy which it characteristically fails at badly. It also tries to develop its own lingo ('mullinsky' and 'bellini' for example) which never takes off and halfway through the film seems to have been abandoned altogether. Writer/directors the Russo brothers (who also directed the 2006 comedy 'You, Me and Dupree') try for something timeless and distinctive here and have good intentions. The film is never nasty, always good-natured and events take place in a spirit of fun. However, no amount of wanting to enjoy this film is enough to actually make you actually enjoy it. Alongside this 'The Men Who Stare at Goats' looks less average (at least there you have the cinematography of Robert Elswit to keep you watching that film). Anyway, there is my two cents. Back into the sun.
Yesterday I mentioned I was off to Devon and posed the question "which film should I see down here?" Well, in a bit of an anti-climax I didn't go to the cinema, instead spending time on a beach (I know... what a let down). I did watch a film yesterday however, as my nan put on a DVD copy of 'The Men Who Stare at Goats'. It was a passable movie. Some funny moments and it's always nice seeing Jeff Bridges. It was bewildering casting to have Ewan McGregor playing an American (aside from the constant in-jokes about him playing a jedi in Star Wars, it was pointless) as there are plenty of good, young American actors.
Anyway, it's a self-described "quirky" comedy and is inoffensive with some good moments. There is the mild hint of some political commentary as the opening credits contains real news footage of the current Iraq war and the story (supposedly based on true events) is about military stupidity. But ultimately this amounts to nothing of substance. So, if it's on and you've got nothing better to do, then you could do worse than watch 'The Men Who Stare at Goats' (that recommendation wasn't even HALF-hearted).
Other than that I have been reading that book on the cinema Ishiro Honda in my down time. It's been really facinating, but I'll save my thoughts on it for the upcoming review. I'll just say that I have read that he directed two of the best segments of the 1990 Kurosawa movie, 'Dreams'. 'The Tunnel' and 'Mount Fuji in Red' were written and directed by Honda and they are perhaps two of the visually stand-out sequences. Good on you Honda-san!
Just writing to say I'm on a bit of a last minute trip to Devon this weekend and have just noticed that Picturehouse have a cinema down there in Exeter. I am thinking I may pay them a visit on Saturday but if I do, what should I see? I can choose from the following options:
'Please Give', (which I have already seen and revieved here). Woody Allen's Larry David comedy 'Whatever Works' (which also starts its run in Brighton tomorrow and which I promised I'd see with my girlfriend). Or 'Shrek Forever After 3D' (which I never planned on seeing ever in my life). What will it be? Alternatively, I may see Martin Freeman in 'Wild Target', a remake of a French film from 1993. But that is playing in Barnstaple at the Central Cinema (at some sort of local upstart chain).
What on earth should I do?! Cast your vote. You may just sway me.
Here is a follow-up to yesterday's post regarding my trip to see a very rare early Kurosawa film at the BFI Southbank. I didn't know quite what to expect from the 1945 film 'They Who Step on the Tiger's Tail' but I was really pleasantly surprised by what I saw tonight. One of the few things I knew about the film before going in was that it based on an old 12th Century Japanese tale and uses aspects of Nah and Kabuki theatre adaptations in its telling. I worried slightly that this may be alienating or (frankly) boring to watch, but actually the film was really well paced and consistently entertaining. Of course, it helped that it ran at a brisk 58 minutes in length.
'They Who Step on the Tiger's Tail' really feels like the simple, effective telling of an age-old tale. What surprised me the most was that, despite the fact the film pre-dates his "golden period", many of Kurosawa's trademark shots and techniques are visible here. There are screenwipes, quick cuts between multiple protagonists and even many of his consistent themes are invoked (humanist values, criticism of traditional values and the emphasis on male characters). Furthermore, the film features a number of actors he would later rely on such as Masayuki Mori ('Rashomon', 'The Idiot', 'The Bad Sleep Well'), Susumu Fujita ('Yojimbo', 'The Hidden Fortress') and the great Takashi Shimura (too many to mention, most famously 'Ikiru' and 'Seven Samurai').
As I wrote yesterday, I couldn't pass up the chance to see this rarely screened film which is unavailable on DVD (at least in the UK). I wondered what the quality of the print would be like for this movie and when it started it was plain to see not only that this piece of film had been around since the film's US release in 1952, but that it was an American version. For one thing the subtitles looked like they had been scratched directly onto the film and, more obviously, the opening credits and titles were all in English. There was also a three page forward giving the context of the story and telling us that "this is a story which is loved by the Japanese". Sometimes the sound went and even the picture cut out at other times, but I found that strangely charming. After seeing the remastered splendour of 'Rashomon' the week before, it was sort of nice to see what a used and abused print looked like. It was a great advert for the likes of Martin Scorsese, who tell us frequently about the need to restore and maintain older films. Hopefully somebody will do the same for this movie before it is worn out of existence!
This is not to criticise the BFI at all. They deserve kudos for finding and screening such an unsung and obscure film as this as part of their Kurosawa season. The screening (admittedly in one of the smaller screens) was pleasingly quite well attended too and the movie played to a good atmosphere, with the comedy of contemporary comedian Kenichi "Enoken" Enomoto going down a storm. Enoken is really exaggerated and campy throughout but his porter character (introduced to the tale by Kurosawa) is what makes the film satirical, as he undermines the heroism and traditional values of the party of soldiers he is in service of. Displaying all the cowardice and opportunism of the lowly pair later seen in 'The Hidden Fortress', the porter delightfully contradicts the earnest Bushido of the rest of the film.
I don't usually go in for plot synopsis here, but seeing as this film is so hard to come by it might be a good idea. Basically, a group of warriors are disguised as travelling monks in order to escort their lord safely into another territory as he is on the run after a dispute with the ruling clan (in another plot element reminiscent of 'The Hidden Fortress'). However, they are expected at the checkpoint barrier and the film mainly involves a stand-off between the head warrior (Captain Beneki, played by the wonderful Denjiro Okochi) and the barrier guard (Togashi, played by Fujita) as he attempts to convince him that the group are the monks they claim to be. It is sometimes funny, sometimes actually very tense and always gripping stuff.
When the barrier guards recognise one of the porters as the wanted lord, Beneki trashes his master with a stick, supposedly to discipline him for being slow. Convinced that a warrior would never beat his master the barrier guard agree to let the men pass. Apparently the debate among Japanese fans of the old tale is whether Togashi knows that Beneki is lying or not, perhaps deciding to let him pass regardless. However here, in this telling, I believe Kurosawa has Togashi convinced by the beating, so stuck is he in an old code of honour now obsolete. Or at least, if not wholly convinced, Beneki breaks all the rules and Togashi is socially unable to accuse another man of his class of that dishonesty and ultimate shame. To deal with his shame at beating his master (in order to save his life) Beneki is shown to drink a barrel full of sake, much like Toshiro Mifune's Kikuchiyo does in 'Seven Samurai' after his own shameful episode.
Despite its brevity there is a lot to take in after watching 'They Who Step on the Tiger's Tail', a complex and thoroughly entertaining film. I had expected to find myself appreciating it more than liking it and had hoped to see the genesis of some of Kurosawa's later work represented in this early film. Instead what I was treated to was a film full of such moments, but which also worked completely in its own right. It was made quite cheaply and is entirely set-bound (with painted exterior backdrops), but it is quite atmospheric all the same thanks to Kurosawa's direction and the photography of Takeo Itô (who later worked on 'Drunken Angel'). Enoken's rampant over-acting may grate with some, so (intentionally) at odds is it with the rest of the piece, but if you get the chance to see it some time in the future then I would recommend you spend 58 minutes watching 'They Who Step on the Tiger's Tail'. Especially if you appreciate Kurosawa's later work. 'They Who Step on the Tiger's Tail' is currently exempt from classification by the BBFC. However, with the complete absence of shown violence or any bad language it would comfortably receive a 'U' in my opinion.
On Monday I said that my recent flurry of celebratory posts about the films of Akira Kurosawa would com to an end with that review of the incredible reissued print of 'Rashonmon'. Well, predictably I am banging on about Kurosawa again. This time to say that I am going back to the BFI Southbank tomorrow to see a rare wartime film of his which I know precious little about: 'They Who Step on the Tiger's Tail'. The earliest of Kurosawa's films I have seen to date is 1948's 'Drunken Angel' (his first film starring Toshiro Mifune and the film on which he felt he'd discovered himself as a filmmaker). Most of the films which came out after 'Drunken Angel' are readily available to buy on DVD in the UK and so out of his 30 films I have been lucky enough to see 20 to date. However 'They Who Step on the Tiger's Tail' will be the first of his 6 "early period" films which I will have seen. I'm really excited by this rare chance to see a film which is completely unavailable to buy in this country.
Amazingly, although the film was shot in 1945, it wasn't released until 1952 as it was banned by the American occupation (a fact Kurosawa attributed to a "mean-spirited" censor rather than the content of his film). I can't wait to see what all the fuss was about.
On a separate note (but still on the subject of Japanese cinema) I received a book in the post today by an American writer called Peter H. Brothers. He has written a comprehensive book in celebration of the overlooked godfather of the monster movie, Ishiro Honda (best known for the original 1954 'Godzilla'). The book is called 'Mushroom Clouds and Mushroom Men: The Fantastic Cinema of Ishiro Honda' and I can't wait to read it and review it here. Incidently, Honda was a good friend (and one-time assistant director) of a certain Kurosawa. In fact he is known to have directed huge parts of Kurosawa's 1990 film 'Dreams' and was ever-present on the set during his final films.
Here is the trailer to the fantastic 'Godzilla' which stars the great Takashi Shimura and is a much better film than the campy series that followed would lead you to think:
There is a new Splendor Podcast up now (on iTunes and the Picturehouse website). Episode 18 sees Jon and I discussing the Spanish thriller ‘Hierro’, before taking a look at two quirky American indie films: ‘Greenberg’ and ‘Please Give’. At the time of recording I hadn’t seen ‘Please Give’, but after Jon’s recommendation (given as far back as February after a screening at Berlinale) I had to go and see the film for myself.
Watching the trailer for Nicole Holofcener's 'Please Give' I got the impression I would be going to see a comedy about the affectations of upper-middle class New Yorkers in the vein of Woody Allen. In fact Catherine Keener's Kate, full of well-meaning liberal guilt, recalls Goldie Hawn's Steffi in Allen's 1996's musical comedy 'Everyone Says I Love You'. Add to that the presence of Rebecca Hall whose most famous role up to now was in another Woody Allen film: ‘Vicky Christina Barcelona’. However, upon seeing the film I found something far less comic and far less full of snappy one-liners than the trailer seemed to suggest.
Aside from the lack of jokes, ‘Please Give’ is also markedly different from most Allen films in that the characters are not judged. Usually the Woody Allen character (often, in recent times, played by a surrogate Woody) critiques the other characters, informing the audience what to make of their pretensions and affectations. In ‘Please Give’ people are hyper-critical of themselves, but infidelity and callousness are not punished in Holofcener’s script. Instead they are presented with touching humanity.
‘Please Give’ is occasionally amusing (as when Kate mistakes a restaurant patron for a homeless man and offers him leftovers), but it is often more sad then it is funny. There is a lot of weeping and many pained expressions here. What humour there is is subtle and occasionally quite dark. Happily, the likes of Keener and Hall are joined by Oliver Platt and Amanda Peet in a cast that really understand this material. Keener is perhaps best known for her bitchy, alpha-female Maxine in Spike Jonze’s ‘Being John Malkovich’, but her character here is much gentler but no less convincing. Keener really is a fantastic actress. An assessment obviously shared by Holofcener as this is her fourth film working with Keener. It is also nice to see the likes of Platt and Peet given good roles here as both are often seen in rubbish or playing bit parts.
For me, the real star of the show is Rebecca Hall. Her character (also called Rebecca) is, in many ways, the emotional centre of the film and easily provides the most poignant moments. Hall plays an American here and does so effortlessly. In fact, I completely forgot she was English until after the movie. The film is also really accurate in its portrayal of the elderly. Ann Guilbert plays a brilliantly direct (“you’ve put on weight”) and stubborn 91 year-old lady who rings very true.
The film works best as an allegory for the role of charity in capitalist society. Keener’s Kate makes her money from buying furniture from the bereaved at a low price and selling it on for thousands of dollars. Out of guilt for her lifestyle, Kate gives to every homeless person she sees, neglecting her own family’s needs: especially those of her insecure daughter (played by Sarah Steele, a more convincing teenager than most in the movies). Kate’s guilt leads her volunteer helping the elderly and children with Down syndrome. However, she is quickly dismissed in both instances, as she is incapable of actually helping these people as she bursts into tears at their (imagined) plight. Like most affluent, middle-class people, Kate feels guilt for her lifestyle which she tries to address with the quick and easy giving of money, but not with actually addressing the root cause of problems. Kate will not give up her lifestyle because somebody else would just take her place ripping people off.
There is a lot going on in ‘Please Give’, which is easily one of this year’s most intelligent screenplays. Each character is multi-layered and has an interesting story. I won’t go into each one here. Overall, I found the film could have done with a little more humour. Personally, I always find that the films of people Wes Anderson and Noah Baumbach are more emotionally affecting because there is light and shade at all times. Moments of sadness often sit alongside moments of humour. In ‘Please Give’ there is a film which (despite nice moments of comedy) is predominantly focussed on being sad and dramatic. This is fine and the film is very good (well deserving of a second viewing), however it did not hit me on a really emotional level or have me laughing out loud.
'Please Give' is out now on a shockingly wide release for a film without big-name stars. It is rated '15' by the BBFC.
I have recently written a fair bit on this blog about the work of Akira Kurosawa. Jon and I recently recorded a special Kurosawa-themed Splendor Cinema podcast, whilst I have also written here about my favourite of his films and about some of the re-makes he inspired. On Friday I visited the BFI Southbank in London where I took advantage of their awesome world cinema shop to purchase a copy of his splendid autobiography and also fill some the gaps in my DVD collection: I found copies of ‘The Idiot’, ‘The Bad Sleep Well’, ‘Drunken Angel’ and ‘High and Low’. Most importantly, I took the opportunity to watch his international breakthrough, the Golden Lion winning 1950 film ‘Rashomon’, now in a glorious restored print which has been re-issued at selected cinemas nationwide.
‘Rashomon’ had previously been a film I admired more than enjoyed. I appreciated how significant it was in opening the eyes of western critics to Japanese cinema and I also understood its influence, the narrative structure (focussing on four subjective accounts of a rape and murder) has been copied by a countless number of films and has also been adapted by science and philosophy – the so-called “Rashomon effect”. But when I saw it on Friday it marked the first time I had seen the film on the big screen and its impact on me was much greater.
Partly this was down to paying the film greater attention than I had possibly done in the past. In a cinema it is just you and the film. You can’t pause it. You can’t look at your phone. You can’t go and get a drink and you hesitate to leave for the toilet. It holds your complete, undivided attention.
This time I noticed the virtuosity of Kurosawa’s camera work, often panning and swooping in elaborate long takes. Just as often it is still and patient with the director allowing the action to move in and out of the frame. It is in many ways a masterclass in how to shoot a film, especially action sequences. Like his hero John Ford, Kurosawa is able to make everything look deceptively simple and made his films with great economy. The film feels tight, disciplined and is basically as close to perfect as any movie could hope to be.
The performances are also fantastic. Toshiro Mifune is at his most cat-like as a snarling bandit accused of murder, whilst Takashi Shimura gives a great turn as a woodcutter who reports the crime, with some scenes of emotional poignancy to rival his more celebrated role in ‘Ikiru’. There are also roles for lesser known Kurosawa regulars such as Minoru Chiaki (who plays a troubled priest) and Masayuki Mori (above) as the murdered samurai. There is also Machiko Kyō, who almost steals the show as the samurai’s wife. Kyō cries and screams with an intensity which renders her performance unforgettable. Like almost every female in a Kurosawa movie, she is also called upon to be somewhat conniving and manipulative which she does with some gusto (representations of women are not Kurosawa’s strongest suit, for that see Mizoguchi, Ozu or Naruse) .
But more impressive than its stars and the great craft of its master director is its typically humanist portrayal of the characters. During the varying accounts of the central murder, what struck me was that the emphasis is not on the practical differences between the accounts, but on something subtler. It is the difference in tone, the different emotional reactions to the event and the changes in meaning which shape this tale and give ‘Rashomon’ its depth. During the trial scenes, in which the characters gather to give their testimonies, the judges are unseen. We are only shown the storytellers themselves talking to camera. Therefore when they lie the implication is that they are only lying to themselves (and perhaps to us).
The bandit wants us to believe he is a hard man, a skilful swashbuckler and a user of women. Watching him speak you feel he has succeeded in convincing himself. The samurai (whose testimony comes via a medium) gives an account in which he dies an honourable death by suicide to compensate for the shame he feels at seeing his wife raped. However the woodcutter’s story (in all details but one final twist taken to be the “true” account) reveals that both men were cowardly: that they fought but that it involved a lot of falling over and scrambling in the dirt. During the encounter Mifune pants loudly: out of breath and full of fear.
They never really cross swords (as in the bandit's version above); instead they swing wildly and run away from each other. The samurai’s final words are “I don’t want to die”. The truth is pathetic, not heroic or romantic. The truth is human. Kurosawa’s point is not that all people are bad or that all people are cowards, but that people are flawed. That we should be suspicious of those who portray themselves as honourable, just as we should of those who promote the idea that they are the opposite. That people are not caricatures: they are complicated.
Happily, for Kurosawa and ‘Rashomon’, there is just as much good as bad in the world. The priest’s faith in humanity is restored by the woodcutter’s decision to adopt an abandoned baby and defend it against a man who seeks to rob it of its few possessions. The woodcutter is told by the man that all people are selfish and that being selfish is necessary to survive (a popular view among capitalists). But the woodcutter rejects this assessment of humanity and, although he already has six children, he takes on the responsibility of another. This final moment sees Kurosawa at his most sentimental, but it is the necessary conclusion to the story and one which gives us hope.
It is hope which is an important final message for Kurosawa and Japan in ‘Rashomon’. Made in the aftermath of the Second World War in a battered and defeated nation, the film is in part allegorical. It opens on a broken gate, a relic from a period of prosperity and cultural richness. The woodcutter and the priest find shelter under this ruin as a heavy rainfall lashes down throughout the film. When the woodcutter adopts the infant the rainfall stops and the duo are able to leave the broken past behind and walk into a more hopeful future, for Japan and for the world. Fitting for a film which heralded a similarly bright future for Japanese cinema.
I, obviously, highly recommend seeking out ‘Rashomon’ in a cinema near you. It is playing at the BFI Southbank until the 8th of July on an extended run and is rated ‘12A’ by the BBFC.
A former freelance film journalist based in Brighton, I have written contributions to The Daily Telegraph and several websites, provided occasional analysis for BBC Radio Sussex and Radio Reverb, and recently I've been involved with several volumes published by Intellect Books.
I've also written about video games for GamesIndustry.biz.
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