Mildred Pierce

Mildrid Pierce (1945) dir. Michael Curtiz
Starring: Joan Crawford, Ann Blyth, Jack Carlson, Zachary Scott, Eve Arden

****

By Alan Bacchus

This is a depressing story of monumental proportions but not less involving and exciting, an ambitious and epic story really of a woman fighting to find dignity and independence and to protect her family from the ravages of life, yet is undone and thwarted by that very thing she’s tried so hard to protect.

The opening is wonderfully noirish, hardboiled as it comes. The first shot features Pierce’s husband being shot and killed in violent hail of bullets. Then a taut chase sequence around the house wherein Mildred Pierce is aprehended by the police for murder. During the nightlong interrogation, the film flashes back to chart the course of events which would lead to this fateful night.

Back in the past we see Pierce first as a devoted wife, doing her expected duty, always in the kitchen and being a mother to her kids. Her husband, Bert, though is a lazy layabout, jobless and who takes advantage of Mildred’s fierceness. She can’t take it anymore though and they split up, with her taking custody of their two children Veda and Kay. Pierce enters survival mode and uses her determination and persevance to work her way up from a lowly dishwasher and waitress eventually to owning a chain of restaurants. Three men continually revolve around her life, her ex-husband, her real estate manager and her new playboy beau. While her career is on track, dutifully working to provide for her kids, Veda over time develops a taste for money and class. Unfortunately Veda continually puts down her mother for stooping to working in the classless restaurant business as opposed to gold digging for a rich husband – a conflict which dissolves Pierce’s lifetime of hardwork and resulting in tragic consequences.

Though it can feel slightly hackneyed, looking back on the history of Hollywood, Mildred Pierce is a socio-cultural time capsule, and a forerunner to the popular and influential ‘women’s pictures of the 50’s, and perhaps even feminism of the 60’s and 70’s. Remember it was 1945, the second World War just finished, families had barely started to move out to the suburbs and women had barely begun to seek out their independence. And so Mildred Pierce should be as a heroic figure, which makes her fate at the end of the picture so devastating.

Historical context aside it’s also a crackerjack piece of cinema, typically crisp and punchy direction from Michael Curtiz, my favourite of all the old studio directors. Curtiz was a master of pacing. Watch the restaurant scene which establishes the fast-paced hustle of Pierce’s stint as a waitress and thus the urgency of her goals. Curtiz was also a master of montage scenes which compresses time so perfectly. Curtiz opens his scenes with close-ups, often pulling his camera back to reveal the establishing shot - a dynamic and modern technique which feels thoroughly modern.

And then there’s his camera movement. Few directors ever used a dolly or crane better than Curtiz. In a biography of Curtiz, Bette Davis, a frequent actress of his, once complained that Curtiz would watch his dolly during the shots more than the actors. But Curtiz never had an unmotivated camera move, and everything in Mildred Pierce is motivated by the actors, and by Joan Crawford in particular. Her performance is so commanding and powerful she deserved won her only Oscar as Best Actress.

Harvard Beats Yale 29-29

Harvard Beats Yale 29-29 (2008) dir. Kevin Rafferty
Documentary

**1/2

By Alan Bacchus

“Harvard Beats Yale 29-29” is a difficult film to review. We get to see a play by play recollection of a great nail-biting game of football. But while the game is great and had me on the edge of my seat, the film is rudimentary and barely anything better than what we see on “NFL Films”, which, ironically, is more cinematic than Rafferty’s.

Kevin Rafferty recounts for us one of the great U.S. College football matches – a regular season game between Ivy Leaguers Harvard and Yale in 1968. In traditional documentary fashion Rafferty intercuts the chronological order of the game with the interviews of the participants. A familiar face is Tommy Lee Jones, who actually played on the Harvard team. The others are average Joes who grew up and became regular anonymous people, but still retained the minute details of every aspect of this memorable game.

In the first half Rafferty devotes much time examining the historical context of the time. It was 1968 during Vietnam, the many campus protests going on, birth control and so on. Yale, ultraconservative, contrasts against the rebellious liberals of Harvard. And it so happens that George W Bush was in Yale at the time and Al Gore was in Harvard at the time. In fact, Mr. Jones roomed with Gore. But apart from one funny anecdote from Jones about Gore, the President and former Vice-President are just minor footnotes to the main action. The second of the film concentrates solely on the game. Via the play by play TV coverage we get to relive the intense drama of the sport rise to awesome heights.

An interesting note is that Rafferty was Michael Moore’s cameraman on “Roger and Me” and ironically a cousin of George W. Bush. But for a cinematographer Rafferty’s videography is barely a notch above a student film. And his chosen interview locations don’t do anything to idolize these once great players. Take a note from Errol Morris, the master of sit down interviews. The background of one’s subject is an important visual tool. And since Rafferty’s film is over 50% talking heads, the blandness of the various kitchens, home offices, libraries and suburban backyards weighs down the cinematic aspects of the film.

And Mr. Rafferty, you even have Tommy Lee Jones in your film – you should be able to afford a better cinematographer at least. But Rafferty stubbornly does everything himself – write, shoot, edit, sound.

To the film’s credit, the Yale and Harvard teams do have some fun personalities. Tommy Lee Jones is a star, and it’s fun to watch his drole sense of humour frustrate the interviewer. Mike Bouscaren is the highlight. A key Yale player who becomes the film’s ‘villain’. Rafferty is clever to bring out his enormous ego from beneath his soft spoken and quiet interior.

“Harvard Beats Yale 29-29” is a great game but adequate filmmaking.

Chungking Express

Chungking Express (1994) dir, Wong Kar Wai
Starring: Brigitte Lin, Takeshi Kaneshiro, Faye Wong, Tony Leung Chiu Wai

****

By Alan Bacchus

The opening credit in this film belongs to Quentin Tarantino's distribution arm Rolling Thunder Pictures, in his usual font, Though it's thematically and aesthetically different than his work, it's easy to see why this piqued Tarantino's interest. Both females leads are elusive hip chicks, not unlike Uma Thurman in both Pulp Fiction and Kill Bill, Pam Grier and Melanie Laurent and others. Ultimately we could derive this type of character from Jean-Luc Godard in Vivre Sa Vie, Anna Karina, the waify bohemian prostitute who was so darn sexy in that demure sweater.

In Chungking Express Brigitte Lin and Faye Wong exhibit the same desirable qualities as Anna Karina and those Tarantino characters. They are so elusive Kar-Wai doesn't even give them names. Lin is unidentified but unmistakeable as the mysterious woman with the blonde wig who always wears sunglasses even at night. Faye Wong plays the niece of a convenience store clerk with a 'je ne sais quoi' carefree flightiness. Both gals have enough  spunk to attract the attentions of two lonely heartbroken cops.

But this is a Wong Kar-Wai film which means lovers getting together is not so easy. Like many of his works, in particular In the Mood For Love, Wai tells a story of the barriers to love, instead of the emotional bond which should bring them together,

It's mid-90's Hong Kong, a rain-drenched city bristling with colourful neon, inhabited by night owls, an amalgam of cultures, Chinese, British, American, South Asian. Think Blade Runner in the present. Wai divides his 90mins into two distinct narratives set around the aforementioned convenience store deep in the heart of this electric city.

Takeshi Kaneshiro plays cop 223, whose just broke up with his girlfriend and finds himself ogling a mysterious, cloaked, wigged and sunglasses wearing drug dealer (Brigitte Lin). In the second half of the picture we see Tony Leung as cop 663 who has also broken up with his GF but drawn to Faye Wong's sprite and young convenience store clerk.

Leung's staid expressions fit his formal police attire. For Takeshi K he’s more outwardly love sick and thus wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s more susceptible to getting drunk and confessing his inner torment. The two contrasting personalities, both with the same conflicts and goals, work like a classic ying and yang.We never see these stories intertwined, yet we feel as they are both happening simultaneous or in some kind of Inception-like dreamworld.

Chungking has an honest and rare cinematic purity to it. It's wholly stylish, but not in an obtrusive way. The streetwise motion and colours organically weaves itself into the dreamlike narrative. A scattershot story really barely held together by plotting. Instead Wai tells a dual story which works better as one.

The universal love story and mix of cultures infused with the pitch perfect mix use Western pop songs, ‘What a Difference a Day Makes”, “California Dreaming”, also the Cranberries' 'Dreams' in Chinese, adds to the accessibility of this story.

Much has been written about Wai's impressionistic style. Indeed it's a visual and aural masterpiece. Not a set piece driven film, but a mix of elegance and edgy art house sensabilities. It’s both formal and controlled and wild and meandering. Watch the dialogue scenes often filmed with long lenses with the camera locked down, throwing the background out of focus and beautifying the subjects. The rest of the camera is constantly in motion, whipping, panning and moving about, not haphazardly always following the subject either the physical motion or the emotional state of the characters. Slo-motion, reflective surfaces all add to his hip-romantic aesthetic.

Get Him to the Greek

Get Him to the Greek (2010) dir. Nicolas Stoller
Starring: Jonah Hill, Russell Brand, P Diddy, Elizabeth Moss, Rose Byrne

***

By Alan Bacchus

Forgetting Sarah Marshall was a good film, but Get Him to the Greek is even better, taking the supporting plotline of the audacious British rocker Aldous Snow and his shameless boycrush stalker Aaron (Jonah Hill) on it’s own in this rambunctious politically incorrect comic roadtrip.

Mondo drug use, alcohol abuse, inappropriate sexual fornication contributes to the strong carefree and anarachic quality of this film. Ten years ago they used to call this type of picture, ‘a gross out comedy’. But there’s more than just gross bodily fluids spewed about there’s something truly irresponsible and naughty about Get Him To The Greek.

P Diddy playing a record label executive assigns Aaron Green (Jonah Hill) from the first film, now an artist manager, to pick up Snow from the UK and, hence the title, bring him to the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles to perform at his comeback concert.

Brand, who in real life seems to consciously embody the chaaracter of Snow as his stage act, is a spaced out druggie, who’s so far removed from conventional social reality. He is the rock star poster child. He’s the same aloof yet charming guy from Sarah Marshall, but Stoller fleshes out his backstory by inventing an ex-wife whom he has a young child with, in addition to his more developed drug addiction to everything under the sun. For Aaron, he has a humdrum relationship to his girlfriend, who is a doctor with absolutely no time for anything but sleep when she’s at home.

The journey from London to LA features a number of raucous set pieces, which are leaps and bounds more audacious than most of the The Hangover. Aldous Snow’s visit to The Today Show for instance produced riotous laughter, same with surreal Vegas sequence where Aaron finds himself high as a kite on a hardcore amalgam drug called ‘The Jeffrey’.

We take the good with the bad with these types of films. There’s a set piece or two too many, including the threesome scene in the third act with Aaron’s wife, where the film should have moved straight to the concert finale. But we'd still rather see the filmmakers swing for the fences than strike out looking.

To make this film passable by moral and ethical standards of conduct there’s some closure to Snow’s drug habit. But we can almost see Brand winking to the camera. We know Brand, nor Stoller mean it. Stoller and his character revel in this behaviour and the film is better for it.

Blue Valentine

Blue Valentine (2010) dir. Derek Cianfrance
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Michelle Williams, Faith Wladyka, Ben Schenkman

**1/2

By Alan Bacchus

Derek Cianfrance would appear to have assembled the two best people for the job of bringing to life his loose and seemingly semi- improvisational neo-realist anti-love story. Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams both veterans of naturalistic indie darlings Wendy and Lucy and Half Nelson feel like Ben Gazzara and Gena Rowlands in this one, a John Cassevetes couple who are at the end of their marriage, two people going different directions in their lives, but with the complication of having a young daughter.

It’s a particularly ambitious effort to show us a tender and hopelessly romantic courtship intercut with the said romance’s demise. We’re constantly shifting between two extremes - heartfelt expressions of love, which borders on preciousness and scenes of simmering hatred and anger which spills off into inarticulate bickering and conflict.

Despite Gosling’s high regard in these types of indie pictures, he’s the weak link in the duo. His character Dean is seen in the romance stages as an impossibly charming working class poet who, as a moving man, decorates the room of one of his elderly clients, a man who at once lifts heavy mattresses for a living but also plays sweet lullabies on the guitar and piano. In the present, he’s just a blue collar joe with failed potential. And there’s little subtlety in this transition with his balding hair, unironic moustache and Brando-esque carefree mannerisms, not to mention the annoying cigarette perpetually hanging from his mouth.

Michelle Williams as Cindy, on the other hand, is a marvel, and seems more suited to this working methodology. Even when Cindy's a complete shit to Dean, unreasonable and cold as ice, Williams riveting to watch, genuine and believable.

At 120 mins, it’s ridiculously long for such subject matter, but then again Cassevetes made near 3 hour films about the same stuff. Then again, I can barely sit through the overindulgences of Cassevetes which many people praise.

As such ‘Blue Valentine’ is a hit and miss affair. The two parallel stories of romance and tragedy works well in tandem with each other but standing alone suffers from the filmmaker’s over enthusiasm for his own work. But Cianfrance admirably wears his heart on his sleeve and goes for broke emotionally. He cannot be faulted for that.

This type of film is the toughest nut to crack, and contrary to what some might think, doesn’t entirely rest with the actors, instead the ability of the director and editor to shape the loose realism into something more formal and engaging. While not everything works, this could become quite a hit for those bohemian/New Wave romantics.

White Material

White Material (2009) dir. Claire Denis
Starring: Isabelle Huppert, Isaach De Bankole, Christopher Lambert

***

By Blair Stewart

A bitter, brittle remark on colonial Africa just before the whites all fled, Claire Denis revisits her childhood days in the great Continent. Isabelle Huppert is Maria, a prime mover, the workhorse behind a desperate coffee plantation on its last legs in a barely-democratic nation on its last legs.

As Maria busts ass to replace fleeing workers and plug holes before the harvest the radio crackles with death against the land's old masters there and abroad. Her motives to stay are perplexing with the anarchy her own family faces if caught between piecemeal child soldiers and the local militia. Initially Maria's son Manuel (Nicholas Duvachelle) chooses to fade away over burning out while her hustler ex (Christopher Lambert) cuts deals for a lifeboat out of the civil war. Emerging from the wild onto the family's coffee fields an enigmatic warrior (Isaach de Bankole) appears. We follow the eerie sight of the sharp, pale figure of Huppert as she crosses a landscape of sanguinary earth and lewd jungle overgrowth, her surroundings shouting blood against her European roots.

An accomplished follow-up to the highly praised "35 Shots of Rum","White Material" is mostly successful in part to the obvious casting of Huppert as a morally specious colonialist with her head just above water. She has a tense intelligence that makes it believable Maria could have long survived in the 3rd world.

As her partner Christopher Lambert returns from the dead in an excellent casting choice as he's always possessed the smile of a Master Bullshitter. Lamentably the charismatic Bankole from Jim Jarmusch's recent work is given scraps for his role while the metamorphosis that Duvachelle's character experiences becomes a stretch on credibility.

While the imagery Denis conceives is effective, and the collaboration with cinematographer Yves Cape bears fruit from a setting of ghostly rescue choppers and the dead below, to open the film with its climax is a regrettable one. What could be accomplished by revealing the fortunes of your players before they have a chance to engage the audience in their fate?

Regardless of the choice in prologue "White Material" is worth seeing for its unsettling 2nd act alone. A worthy addition to Old World griefs in the New World, but not a flawless one.

Unboxing 'The Social Network' Blu-Ray

The Social Network (2010) dir. David Fincher
Starring: Jesse Eisenberg, Andrew Garfield, Justin Timberlake, Armie Hammer, Rooney Mara

****

By Alan Bacchus

Second time round on Blu-Ray, The Social Network holds up just as a well as the first, a remarkably well-told story of Facebook and the quick and mighty rise of the site and it’s founder, Mark Zuckerberg.

Sony Pictures will release the Blu-Ray/DVD on Tuesday Jan 11, but I only received the press release a few weeks ago (Dec 23rd to be exact). It’s a mighty fast release considering the film was only released Oct 1st, and the film was still in 250 theatres in North America. The film has been winning virtually every major critics awards, in addition to its numerous GG Nominations. So I guess there were two choices 1) re-expand the film into theatres again, once the Oscar nominations come out (Jan 25, 2011) and thus capitalize on the usual box office spike which comes with ‘Oscar Season’, or 2) Release the Blu-Ray/DVD version and have this spike applied to Home Entertainment sales.

Sony obviously chose #2, and it seemed to be a last minute decision, considering the short time between when the press release went out and the street date, next Tuesday.

Thankfully, Sony has spared us a no-frills version of the film, unlike the shameful initial Paramount release of Zodiac, which didn’t feature any supplements, only to be trumped by a full double-disc director’s cut version of the film a year later. Sony gets it right the first time round.

This decision and the unique packaging of the product is congruous with the general themes and content of the film. The physical packaging is barely recognizable as a movie, let alone The Social Network. It’s a dark navy blue cardboard slipout box, with the poster tagline enbossed on the front. The credits on the back but also in navy and barely visible. And the only place we can find the title of the film is the side, which is also in the same colour scheme. Sony, of course, has included a slip cover which has the poster and technical details so it stands out on the shelves, but when it goes on your shelf at home, it’ll be the non-descript innocuous version I just described.

Inside, the simplistic theme continues. Rewatching the film again, it fits in with one of the major sources of conflict for the main characters, the monitization and exploitation of the site for money. When the Zuckerberg character shows Eduardo the first mock-up of the site, his first comment is about the simplicity of design and function. Such is the case here. After popping in the Blu-Ray it takes little time to load the content, little time before we get picture on the screen, and there’s absolutely no trailers, previews or anti-copyright ads prior to the feature. Immediately we get the menu screen, and it’s ready to play.

The feature of course looks freakishly awesome, crisp and perfect like all of David Fincher’s films. Trent Rezner’s score whollops the speakers and especially the subwoofer.

The special features, as expected, completely bypasses the usually featurette hyperbole. The main documentary, entitled ‘How Did We Ever Make a Movie About Facebook’, features interviews with the participants involved against a white background looking right into camera (perhaps using Errol Morris’ interrotron interview device) and breaking down the process of making the film. We’re dropped right into pre-production with a verite-style camera, a fly on the wall, watching the process of David Fincher. In particular the story sessions with Aaron Sorkin and the actors breaking down the subtext of the dialogue is awesome.

No press junket footage here, no canned answers, raw, substantial, but also controlled and expertly edited sneak peak behind the scenes.

I think Mark Zuckerberg would be approve. I certainly do. Pick this one up, ASAP. And if you don’t have a Blu-Ray player, pick that up too, along with a 42” HDTV and a HD Sound System.

The Social Network is available on Blu-Ray from Sony Pictures Home Entertainment

Only When I Dance

Only When I Dance (2010) dir. Beadie Finzi
Documentary

***

By Alan Bacchus

Beadie Finzi's inspiring documentary charts the journeys of two ballet dancers, both from 'slums' of Rio de Janeiro, where their supreme artistic talents has allowed them to rise up out of poverty and into the competitive world of dance.

Irlan is a teenaged boy who is characterized as the most promising young ballet dancer in the country. Isabella is a spry young girl with immense talent but unfortunately doesn't have the exact type of body world class ballerina posses. Both come from the notorious favelas of Brazil, the same violent place where City of God is set in. Both are also black, which, unfortunately like in many places in the world, means they have to work even harder than everyone else to be noticed.

Finzi takes us on a year long journey where we see Irlan and Isabella receive scholarships to the renowned Centro de Dance Rio, one of the most rigorous and prestigious ballet schools in Brazil, a stepping stone which will take them to New York City where the world's best dance companies recruit their new talent.

It’s heartbreaking to see the anguish on Isabella’s face when she tells us of the pressure to keep her wight down. The poor girl, barely 15 and with a beautiful slim body, but not slim enough for international competition. The emotion is up front and raw and uninhibited. For Irlan, he is a near flawless dancer, and the suspense comes from his parents' struggle to pay for the necessary travel arrangements where his opportunities lay.

The competition is fierce and Beadie rings out as much suspense as she can from the judge's deliberation and eventually dramatic decision announcements. The dancing is superb. I don’t know ballet from Adam but Irlan’s final dance routine in Switzerland, channelling the soul of Nijinsky, the edgy torture Russian dancer controversial for his new style of dance, is truly awesome.

Watching Irlan and Isabella travel the world is also a thrill. Like Irlan trying to catch snow on his tongue in Switzerland, or Isabella mesmerized by the Times Square light show. Seeing the world for the first time through their eyes is as triumphant as their work on the stage. If anything I only wish we saw more of the kids, both on stage and experiencing these new vibrant worlds. At 79mins, there's much room to flesh out some of these tender and intimate moments.

Otherwise, Only When I Dance, should serve as a credible rousing and real world alternative to the manufactured American Idol or other similar TV reality song and dance shows. This is the real deal.

Only When I Dance is available on DVD from Film Movement, the December DVD of the Month Selection. Click HERE for more info.

Mon Oncle Antoine

Mon Oncle Antoine (1971) dir. Claude Jutra
Starring: Jacques Gagnon, Lyne Champagne, Jean Duceppe, Claude Jutra

****

By Alan Bacchus

Mon Oncle Antoine is like Citizen Kane of Canada. In numerous polls conducted over the years in this country, this film each and every time ranks as the greatest Canadian film ever made. The story of a rural and wintery Quebec mining town as seen through eyes of a young teenage boy, Antoine is deservedly revered internationally for it's poetic depiction of an aging and soon to be outmoded way of life, a timeless classic, John Ford-worthy elegance transplanted to a French-Canadian winter.

We’re told it’s a long time ago but never exactly how long ago (it's actually the 1940's). Jutra dramatizes Benoit's journey like a grandfather telling a bed time story, recounting his youth through the filtered lens of nostalgia. Young Benoit (Jacques Gagnon), 15, lives with his drunk and surly Uncle Antoine and his Aunt. He works at the general store owned by Aunt and Uncle helping to serve the miners who work extracting asbestos from the nearby quarry. Antoine also is the town undertaker, a job which has him moving bodies around by horse-powered sled. For most of the film we're observing the relationships of the townsfolk through the eyes of Benoit. The romance of these working class folks is surpringly sweet and tender and humour, their  healthy libidos often cause them to find trysts in barns and attics on a whim.

Benoit is thoroughly fascinating offering us the point of view of this bygone era. The young actor Jacques Gagnon has a remarkable face like Jean-Pierre Leaud in 400 Blows. He barely speaks instead we find emotion through his silent and stoic reactions to the events around him. The moment Benoit sees the corpse of the young Poulin child who has died is heartbreaking, and even more so as seen through the innocent eyes of Benoit.

This terrific scene leads to the stunning and poignant third act journey home where we see the dramatic confession of Antoine and the completion of Benoit's rite of passage and ascendancy into adulthood. The final supremely emotional image of the boy watching the grieving family is as powerful as it gets in cinema.

The asbestos mine looms over the town and thus the historical context of the movie. Health concerns are not mentioned, but knowing the dangers involved and likely the exploitation of the miners adds another level of sadness and melancholy. In fact, though it's not mentioned we can't help but wonder if the young boy's death was not influenced by the asbestos we see billowing into the sky from the quarry.

Those who know their Canadian history will find links to the landmark labour strikes which would occur shortly after this time and the beginning of the 'Quiet Revolution' which provided the seeds for French separatist movement in the 60's. These levels are never referenced overtly, yet so profoundly affect us subliminally.

The poetic and melancholy tone is remarkably affecting. The relationship of the characters to their environment, the omnipresent snow and wind which the characters seem to be guided by reminds us of Terrence Malick’s characters drifting through the wheat fields in Days of Heaven. Perhaps the best comparison would be another film from 1971, Peter Bogdanovich’s Last Picture Show, another Ford-influenced coming-of age-story from another era. Mon Oncle Antoine is as good as all of the above.

Mon Oncle Antoine is available as one of the recent titles from the Criterion Collection, the ideal showcase for one of the greatest films ever made.

Paths of Glory

Paths of Glory (1957) dir. Stanley Kubrick
Starring: Kirk Douglas, George Macready, Joseph Turkel, Adolph Menjou, Ralph Meeker

****

By Alan Bacchus

The Criterion Blu-Ray of Stanley's Kubrick's classic war film looks absolutely fantastic. The 16x9 TV enhancement, though it actually crops a portion of it's 1.66:1 frame, adds a wonderful new full screen look of spectacle missing in previous DVD versions of the film.

It's one of Kubrick's most important films, with the exception of Spartacus, it's his most sentimental, a film with a clear humane message, that said, it’s still laced with Kubrick’s cynicism and indictment of human frailties.

It also features the same kind of truncated narrative structure he would employ in 2001: A Space Odyssey and Full Metal Jacket. The first half occurs almost exclusively on the front, either in battle or preparing for battle. The second half plays out either in the immaculately decorated aristocratic palaces of the haughty French generals, or in the halls of the kangaroo court where the fates of the three poor souls chosen to represent the cowardice of the regiment are determined.

Kubrick’s command of both the huge spectacle of action in the celebrated Ant Hill attack scene and the intimate and intellectually stimulating dialogue scenes between the characters showcase everything of what the great filmmaker will accomplish in his career.

Texture in the battle scenes is astonishing. Those lengthy tracking shots of Dax confidently walking to the demarcation point before the battle is mesmerizing to watch. As well look around at the detail in the background and the atmosphere of smoke, debris and the booming sounds of the artillery fire which blanket the soundtrack.

Paths of Glory also lays the foundation of Kubrick’s visual aesthetic, or his stylistic language which he would hone, reuse and arguably steal from himself numerous times throughout his career. For the first time we can see how Stanley Kubrick’s sees the world, through wide angle lenses, following his characters on his dolly through the trenches of the Western front. Same with the classically designed interiors of the Chateau where the trial takes place and where in safety the smug General Broulard conducts his war.

When we watch the scene where Dax approaches Broulard about Mireau’s heinous actions in the battle, the Johann Strauss waltz which plays in the background brings to mind the dance of the space station in 2001: A Space Odyssey a decade later.

Kirk Douglas provides a typically heroic and righteous performance as Dax. But arguably the best performance is George Macready as the stubborn and opportunistic General Mireau who is supremely villainous.

Mireau bridges two levels of conflict - General to General, as in the opening scene with the passive aggressive General Broulard; General to Colonel as in Mireau vs. Dax. The third level of conflict exists from Lieutenant to Corporal, represented by the complex relationship between Lt. Roget and Cpl Paris.

The opening scene is especially important. When approached by Broulard about attacking the Ant Hill, we actually see Mireau heroically champion his men saying, ‘I’m responsible for these men…etc’, and even when offered the promotion he’s hesitant and aware of the optics of such a post at the expense of the confidence of his men. And then he instantly switches to an unconscionable tyrant for the rest of the film. Curiously we never get to see that warm character from the opening scene.

This contradiction in character is at the core of Kubrick’s argument. The fact is, no one is fully to blame for the atrocities of war. In war sacrifices must be made. We never know who had given General Broulard the order to attack the anthill and thus pass the order to Mireau and thus pass the orders to Dax. The chain of command is infinite up to the top, through Kubrick is sure to show us where the buck stops, at the bottom with the fate of the three executed soldiers.

Best of 2010 - Part III

Chico and Rita

The Unforgettably Forgotten Great and Good Films of 2010

By Blair Stewart

Editor's note: Here's an alternate Best of List from UK-Based DFD contributor Blair Stewart

Happy New Year and all that jazz folks, here's a rundown of 2010's finest slept-on films that unfortunately were wedged between the bluster of "Inception" and the perpetual infernal mechanized horsepoop contraption that is "Twilight: Eclipse". No "Shutter Island" or "Winter's Bone" to be seen here, but plenty of head-scratching and highfalutin cultural snobbery to be had. No "I Am Love" included either, the ending was an embarrassment.


"Machete" dir. by Robert Rodriguez and Ethan Maniquis
Starring Danny Trejo, Jessica Alba, Jeff Fahey and Jeff Fahey's sweet-ass mullet

I've despised 90% of Robert Rodriguez's efforts, and after the letdown of "Predators" (great concept dulled by tacky execution), would have happily skipped "Machete" for a long night of sweet F.A. despite Danny Trejo's leathery mug. Thankfully Rodriguez and his editor/co-director Maniquis have taken a highlight of 2007's "Grindhouse" experiment, the 2-minute fake trash trailer of which this film is born, and expanded it into a piss-taking scattershot lampoon of Rodriguez's own body of work. Sometime around a climax of Robert DeNiro channelling Foghorn Leghorn as a US Senator caught on the warpath of Lindsay Lohan in a nun's habit I fell in love with the tastelessness of "Machete", John Waters would have made a logical pick for story consultant if asked. The blowhards involved in the US-Mexico border controversy deserved this lovingly bloody satire, and with his part as DeNiro's greasy hatchet man, I now demand more Jeff Fahey roles in my American mainstream movies. Hell, Fahey in Mexican ones, too.


"Cane Toads: The Conquest" dir. by Mark Lewis
Featuring Cane Toads, Rural Australians

A sequel to the 1988 documentary "Cane Toads: An Unnatural History", the disastrous introduction of the American reptile to Northern Australia becomes a cautionary lesson in man's ecological blunders and decoration for the interviewed weirdos of Oz's hinterlands. As humorous, terrifying, frustrating and educational as losing one's virginity, "Cane Toads" was a Sundance festival hit that at best may yet see a limited release, otherwise Netflix beckons. The 3-D format was used effectively in raising my blood pressure as a solitary toad hopped into the foreground space amongst Queensland's beauty on the cusp of conquer. Then another toad arrived. Then another. And two more. And another one. And three more. And another......


Exit Through the Gift Shop dir. by Banksy
Featuring Banksy and Thierry Guetta

Joining "Catfish" as the other documentary this year to give me pause in questioning its truth, "Exit Through the Gift Shop" was a series of happy accidents (graffiti art fan Thierry Guetta with A.D.D. and O.C.D. records Banksy, the hyped zeitgeist of illegal street art, before gaining more financial success than his mentor, and despite the fact that his art sucks, only for Banksy to become a fine director of Guetta's footage, uh-huh) that resulted in a wildly entertaining film. Whatever the processes required, 2010 was a year in which the non-fiction material ("Collapse", "Restrepo", most of "I'm Still Here") exceeded the fictional work in my admiration. As additional viewing incentive Banksy is a caustic narrating genius and the eye-popping sight of an elephant spray painted burgundy simply must be seen.


"Enter the Void" dir. by Gaspar Noe
Starring Nathaniel Brown and Paz de la Huerta

The acting is mostly atrocious, the story a haberdashery of "The Tibetan Book of the Dead" and DMT-laced spliffs, and despite the immense audiovisual acumen of "I Stand Alone" and "Irreversible" notoriety Gaspar Noe isn't the brightest of filmmakers, just the flashiest. Yet "Enter the Void" was an overwhelming experience; a CGI-fireworks merging of Tokyo's electric hum, the free-floating camera crane movement of Kalatozov's "I Am Cuba" with trust-fund carnality that briefly overruled Mckee's screenplay formulas and mixed-marketing tie-in tentpole franchises. Perhaps Paz de la Huerta won over my better judgement, but I'm alright with that. It was a heady trip at the cinema in an otherwise stuffily unmemorable year.


"Chico and Rita" dir. by Javier Mariscal and Fernando Trueba
Featuring the music of Bebo Valdés, Tito Puente and Charlie Parker

Oh to be young, carefree and lustful in pre-Castro Havana around 1948. Rich Yankee dolts from the brownstone smokestacks are pouring into town for a weekend fling; Cuban superpowers of bebop and mambo are following them out. A roughly animated lark on the high times of Cuban beat in the way-back-when, "Chico and Rita" was predictable and saccharine but it had good tunes and hot sex going on, therefore making it the best date movie possible for anyone anywhere anytime. I have never found turquoise blue as fine a colour as I have while watching this.


"Trash Humpers" dir. by Harmony Korine
Starring Harmony Korine and Rachel Korine

Like a lost VHS tape that escaped from Gary Busey's private snuff collection "Trash Humpers" is off-limits for those of us with decency and good taste. Squalid freaks in old folks masks destroy property and, you know, hump trash, where the overwhelming mood of chaos in 78 minutes created a feeling of dread in me greater than all the cannibal extras in "The Road" could muster. Art gallery owners in Soho and Williamsburg wept.


"Four Lions" dir. by Christopher Morris
Starring Riz Ahmed, Kayvan Novak and Nigel Lindsay

A ballsy flogging of radical fundamentalist hive-thinking and the sorry state of the U.K. in general, "Four Lions" was blessed with superbly funny dialogue when I could understand whatever the hell the Jihadists were saying. A plotline about an incompetent sleeper-cell in the Yorkshires had too much baggage for major North American distributors, despite qualities including Riz Ahmed's excellent lead performance alongside Chris Morris gold-standard in British comedy direction. The idea of a modern farce's last reel concerning the gang's attempt to bomb the London Marathon would be depraved if not for the example set by "Dr. Strangelove" during the Cold War's depths. Some jackasses might be less inclined to publicly blow themselves up under the wilting onslaught of such well-conceived mockery.


"The Illusionist" dir. by Sylvain Chomet
Starring the animated ghost of Jacques Tati

Trading in Gallic whimsy for Gallic melancholy, Sylvain Chomet of "The Triplets of Belleville" adapts an unfinished Jacques Tati script into a hand-drawn torch song for Tati's cinema/vaudeville legacy and the worn cobblestones of Edinburgh. When I have kids I intend to screen this for them as I want them to get a head start on disappointment, heartache and quality foreign films.

The Town

The Town (2010) dir, Ben Affleck
Starring: Ben Affleck, Jon Hamm, Rebecca Hall, Jeremy Renner

**

By Alan Bacchus

On the recently released Blu-Ray/DVD of the The Town, Ben Affleck's second film as director, there's both the original 125 mins version and a heavily expanded 153mins. Unfortunately both versions produce the same reaction, slight admiration for being slightly better than Gone Baby Gone but mostly frustration for being aesthetically tepid, uninspired and simply adequate.

This is Ben's Michael Mann movie, an ambitious aspiration, an action film with ‘character’. Ben Affleck plays Doug MacRay a lifetime criminal who plies his trade in the bank robbery capital of the United States - Charlestown Mass. While he's characterized as a professional thief with ethics and honour, his right hand man Jem Coghlin (Jeremy Renner) is a loose cannon who continually disrupts MacRay's plans, specifically in their latest job where we see Jem take hostage an innocent but gorgeous bank clerk Claire Keesey (Rebecca Hall). Since they were masked, after the job, Doug tracks Claire down and covertly starts a relationship in order garner information about the police investigation.

But Doug falls in love with her, which of course runs counter to effectiveness of the crew. Jem in particular takes offence, causing a rift in their lifelong friendship. Meanwhile the FBI headed by Jon Hamm is hot on their tail, climaxing in a series of taut action sequences.

The Town packs in a lot of plot, character and backstory, unfortunately it’s one of those movies where characters tell lengthy heartfelt stories of their past in order to get the necessary information across to the audience. This is passed off as 'character depth', but it usually comes off as a dull and lazy style of storytelling.

Jon Hamm also serves to explain the exposition. During his investigation he discovers the long history of the bank robbers, specifically for Doug whose family past influences his actions in the present. Other wise Hamm has no other significant narrative purpose than as the ticking clock for Affleck and his crew.

The most interesting relationship in the film is between Jem and Doug, who are characterized like the Harvey Keitel/Robert De Niro relationship in Mean Streets, with Renner as Jonny Boy/De Niro and Affleck as the Charlie/Keitel character. Unfortunately Ben Affleck is so overly righteous and sincere to be a credible gangster. At every turn Doug seems reluctant to commit to his chosen trade. Yet, we never really see any internal conflict or regret for his life of crime. In the extended version there’s a montage scene early wherein we see the gangster crew living it up with strippers, drugs and gambling. Affleck even films himself looking surly while getting a lap dance from a red hot stripper. Even the sentimental ending, wherein Doug gets to atone for his sins, feels tacked on and false.

I think what Affleck needs to do is get out of Boston, lighten up and stop taking his work so seriously. Between the preachiness of this film and the contrived melodrama of Gone Baby Gone, to use some Boston Red Sox baseball references his throwing smoke, but is too wild and off the mark, so far.

Admittedly Affleck shows some muscular panache with the action. As such The Town seems to be the ideal stepping stone film for Affleck to find a franchise gig, like Jon Favreau’s attachment to Iron Man. So despite my indifference to this, I actually look forward to his third film.

The Town is available on Blu-Ray and DVD from Warner Home Entertainment

Hearts of Darkness

Hearts of Darkness (1991) dir. Fax Bahr, George Hickenlooper
Documentary

****

By Alan Bacchus

There is no better documentary about the pain and sacrifice of making a film than “Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse”, which is now available on DVD for the first time. The documentary which chronicles the sordid history of the making of “Apocalypse Now” is a film worthy of the greatness of its subject. A remarkable amount of on-location footage, candid audio recordings and modern reflections of the time from the participants make for an all-access pass into the hellish process of making a masterpiece.

At the top we’re privileged with an interesting tidbit of info that the film was first proposed as an American Zoetrope feature for George Lucas to direct. A script had already been written by Zoetrope pal John Milius, and was to be filmed in 16mm during the Vietnam War. That suggestion didn’t fly with the studios, and so Coppola had to wait until he had the clout from “The Godfather” films before taking another shot at it. After the backstory of the development of the project, the documentary is taken over by the footage shot by Coppola’s wife Eleanor who traveled with the crew to the Phillipines location. "Apocalypse Now" turned out to be a cursed production which lasted over a year, survived a hurricane, a near-death heart attack from Martin Sheen, the firing of its lead actor, and the numerous contemptuous antics of Marlon Brando.

Directors Bahr and Hickenlooper effectively use a clever voiceover track from Orson Welles - a similar maverick independent who also tried to film Joseph Conrad’s novel in 1940, before “Citizen Kane”. That project was too daunting for Welles but we have the narration from his Mercury radio program which acts like an ominous ghost haunting Coppola’s film.

Though Eleanor Coppola doesn’t get directorial credit, she should. Her candid audio recordings which were made without Coppola’s knowledge offers us true fly-on-the-wall access to a great artist at work. We get to hear the indecisive ramblings of Coppola near the brink of insanity. He honestly confesses his film will be no good and questions the risk he’s taking in making a ‘pretentious’ film.

There are many profound themes that emerge from the material without manipulation from the filmmakers. The notion of war and filmmaking being linked metaphorically comes true when the Philippine Army takes away Coppola’s helicopters in the middle of shot to fight off some Communist insurgents. The film is also about ego and excess. His description of how he wants the set designer and casting director to fill out the French Plantation scene is grossly egotistical. And look at the opening shot of an unflattering Coppola, shirtless, so heavily bearded you can’t see his face, and frantically twitching. He resembles the character of Kurtz himself - out of control, out of touch with reality and without an end-goal vision.

Sometimes great art comes from the insane mind. Coppola was never committed, but he certainly lost years of his life making the film. Indeed “Apocalypse Now” became an unrivaled masterpiece. One thing missing is Coppola’s opinion on the finished film. I suspect he hates it, probably because it brings up these tragic memories which are nightmarish to him but fascinating to us. Enjoy.

Hearts of Darkness is available on Blu-Ray included on the mondo-packed 'Apocalypse Now - Full Disclosure' edition from Maple Pictures in Canada

Apocalypse Now

Apocalypse Now (1979) dir. Francis Coppola
Starring: Martin Sheen, Marlon Brando, Frederick Forrest, Dennis Hopper, Robert Duvall, Albert Hall Jr.

****

By Alan Bacchus

Gut, determination and a whole lot of ego from Francis Coppola was the engine which not just got Apocalypse Now made but made it great. Coming off the Godfather films, Francis Coppola was at the height of his creativity, the height of his influence and undoubtedly his confidence. When filmmakers find themselves in this type of position it's wonderful to see filmmakers push themselves creatively.

And he couldn't have set goals any higher than Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. One of those legendary Hollywood properties deemed unfilmable. It's one of cinema's great page to screen translations, injecting the chaotic American involvement in the Vietnam into Conrad's material. The combination the machoness of John Milius's original script, the dense poetry of Michael Herr's voiceover and Coppola's hallucinogenic vision, it's a miraculous combination of the written word and the visual medium.

Coppola famously filmed a million and half feet of film, for months, often straying from the script and re-writing as he went along. Looking at both the Redux and the original theatrical versions, it's interesting to see the creative choices Coppola made in terms of narrative plotting. In the original version continuity is purposely eschewed in favour of a hallucinatory series of set pieces. The USO playmate show is just such a scene. It’s a lengthy sequence, which doesn’t serve the narrative but the absurd and strange nature of the war. In the Redux version, an additional scene with the bunnies meeting Willard is reinstated, but by removing this scene and never referencing the bunnies again, the scene is compartmentalized, complimenting progressive journey, or odyssey undertaken by Willard and his crew.

Same with the character of Kilgore as played by Robert Duvall, who disappears from the story after he says his famous line, 'Some day this war's gonna end'. It's a perfect line to close his character off with. But in the Redux version continuity is reinstated with a couple of additional scenes with Kilgore, showing his discombobulation after having surfboard stolen. It's an interesting scene to watch but takes the macho lustre off his character and for the worse smooths over the punchy editing of the narrative.

As a stand alone sequence the lengthy French plantation scene is terrific. It deserves to be in the Redux version, but admittedly is too long for the theatrical version, in particular it's placement at the end of the second act. It's a shame it found no place in the original version, it's one of the best scenes in the entire film.

The opening dialogue scene, after trippy helicopter ghost/hotel sequence, is still a classic. So perfectly written, performed and directed. I think my favourite part is the silent civilian character played by Jerry Zeismer, who we see reacting to the questioning with a stoic professionalism. His only line in the scene comes at the end, when he dramatic utters Milius’s best line, ‘terminate with extreme prejudice. How awesome is that.

Arguably the most incongruent aspect of the film is Coppola’s kooky electronic score, co-written by Francis and his father Carmine. When we first hear the music it comes after Zeismer's dramatic line, ‘terminate with extreme prejudice’ which sends Willard on his mnission. We then hear the drone of synthesizers which is always jarring to me. It feels out of place and arguably tempers the punch line of that scene. Yet as the film moves along and Coppola delves further into the psychology of war, the score successfully merges with the all other sights and sounds of the picture.

The Blu-Ray special edition, entitled ‘Full Disclosure” features both the theatrical and Redux cuts in addition to Hearts of Darkness and newly produced special feature interviews. The picture quality is stunning, the most eye popping is Vittorio Storaro’s colours which never looked so vibrant and bold. It's also presented in the original uncropped 2:35:1 aspect ratio for the first time.