Teyss Reviews

Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975)

0% joy, 100% intellect

[8/10 · 30 March 2023]

"Jeanne Dielman" was voted in 2022 the greatest film of all times by the notable Sight & Sound decennial poll. Let's be more specific since this survey is divided into two parts: in the professionals' poll (more than 1,600 critics, academics, writers, etc.), it ranks first ahead of no less than Vertigo (1958) and Citizen Kane (1941); in the filmmakers' poll (480 directors worldwide), it ranks fourth behind 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), Citizen Kane (1941) and The Godfather (1972). With originally mixed reviews, it has now gathered almost universal acclaim and cult status. Gus Van Sant and Todd Haynes said their work is inspired by that specific movie. What can explain such an appraisal?

VOID CONTENT, RADICAL FORM

To better understand, let's meditate Chantal Akerman's words: "There is a hierarchy of images in cinema that places an accident or a kiss higher than washing up. And it's not coincidental but relates to the place of woman in social hierarchy." Regarding the first sentence, "Jeanne Dielman" is challenging because it completely alters our usual viewer paradigm: one has to make the effort of watching 3h20 of so-called "triviality" as an art form. It's not the first instance of slow cinema, yet it's one of the longest: the viewer follows the character for two days and a half (from the end of afternoon on day 1 to the evening of day 3), focusing on details such as movements, objects, noises and photography. Most films come to us; here we have to actively go towards it. Hence it should definitely be seen in a theatre and not at home.

Regarding the second sentence: it's not a feelgood movie. It doesn't only depict women's condition in the 1970s but women's condition in general and even human condition, exposing the void of existence; rarely has a film done it so extensively. We never know what Jeanne thinks: even in the final sex scene we don't understand if she experiences pain, pleasure, or both; then we can only speculate about the motive of her final act. Culture (Beethoven on the radio, Baudelaire for school) is superficial. The few interesting dialogs are brushed off by the main character:

• Jeanne reads her sister's letter with a fast pace and monotonous tone.-
• Sylvain twice voices intimate feelings when lying in bed; Jeanne twice tells him to sleep and turns off the light.-
• Her neighbour who comes to pick up the infant tells her personal details; Jeanne barely answers. The following day, the neighbour doesn't say anything.

In line with Jeanne's orderly behaviour, direction is so methodical it becomes abstract. Photography, enhanced by a superbly restored image, is systematised: all shots are static; most are long; inside the apartment, the camera is always placed in the same locations; there are exactly three of these per room (except at the end: see below); when the action reverts to a previous room, the camera is in the same place as before: it is only after staying there for a while that it can change position. For memo here are the camera placements:

• Hallway: entrance door to the left; facing the curtain; in the axis of the corridor.-
• Living-room: windows to the left; windows to the right (when Sylvain is in bed); across the table, windows in the back.-
• Kitchen: in the entrance; facing the sink; across the table, window to the right.-
• Bathroom: from the corridor; sink to the left; facing the bathtub.-
• Bedroom: facing the window; facing the closet; in front of the chair, mirror to the right.

Some noises are accentuated, for instance water flowing or switches turned on and off. There never is off-screen music: we only hear the radio twice. Side note: Jeanne listens to a song on the radio, turns it off and opens the front door; we then hear the same song in the distance, indicating a neighbour is listening to the same channel and implying that Jeanne's life is not unique. Hence on the one hand the movie seems realistic, as hinted by the full title: "23 quai du Commerce" does exist in Brussels. On the other, there is a radical concept that is stretched to the limits.

FLAT THEN DOWNHILL

This stretch allows the movie to play with its own minimalist codes. Many events are repeated from one day to the other: same breakfast, chores, sandwich for lunch, dialogs ("Don't read while eating"), evening walk around the block, etc. However, while in the first half of the film all goes well (if we may say so), in the second half something goes wrong: Jeanne's tidy routine crumbles after she pensively peels the potatoes on the afternoon of day 2. The numbers below refer to the day of the action:

• 1: potatoes are baking while Jeanne is having sex with a client, a perfectly timed pattern -> 2: she overcooks potatoes and has to throw them away.-
• 2: she shines her son's shoes -> 3: she drops the brush.-
• 2: she washes the dishes -> 3: she doesn't do it properly and has to wash the plates again.-
• 2: she dries the cutlery -> 3: she drops a spoon and has to wash it again.-
• 2: she drinks coffee from the thermos during the day -> 3: she doesn't like the coffee and throws it away.-
• 2: she looks after a baby while her neighbour goes on errands; the baby is quiet -> 3: she takes the baby three times in her arms and each time the baby cries loudly.-
• 2: she puts money in a porcelain and closes the lid -> 3: she forgets to close it.-
• 2: she always turns off the lights when she leaves a room -> 3: she forgets to turn them off and has to come back to do it.-
• 2: she goes to the post office -> 3: it is closed because she's too early. The machine outside delivering stamps is empty.-
• 2: she goes to the cobbler -> 3: she shop is not open yet and she has to wait.-
• 2: she rapidly finds the same type of wool for her son's sweater she is knitting -> 3: despite going to different shops, she cannot find a button that is missing on a coat.-
• 2: she goes to a café and a waitress automatically brings her coffee because she is a regular customer -> 3: her usual seat is taken, she has to sit somewhere else. The waitress she knows is not here so Jeanne needs to order the coffee. Eventually she doesn't even drink it.-
• 1, 2: she always keeps herself busy -> 3: after coming back home, she doesn't have anything to do.

Additionally, photography always displays decency: we don't see the first two sex scenes, just the closed bedroom door with an ellipse; we never see Jeanne going to the toilets; we actually don't even know where they are in an apartment we explore inside out. However, the third sex scene at the end is shown: it disrupts the overall scheme and tragedy unravels.

Also towards the end, the systematic placement of the camera is altered, announcing Jeanne's psychological breakdown. It is located in different spots than before and then just once, a remarkable change of pattern:

• Back to the patio door in the kitchen, showing Jeanne throwing away the overbaked potatoes;
• On the low table in the living-room, showing a frontal shot of an idle Jeanne in the armchair;
• Above the bed while she is having sex, as if the camera was crushing her together with her client;
• On the bed afterwards, showing the third client reflected in the bedroom mirror.

IS IT WORTH THE HYPE?

What are the limits of the movie? First, it does feel long. Granted, we are supposed to empathise with Jeanne, yet some shots are too lengthy, for instance when she is doing chores in the kitchen or the final shot where she just sits in the dark, lasting more than 5 minutes. A little extra editing would have been welcome since the beginning of some scenes is cut anyhow, for example when Jeanne is washing dishes or preparing the meat on day 3.

One reason might be that the director was fascinated by the actress and didn't want to lose a second of her presence on screen. Akerman was only 25 years old when shooting and it was just her second full feature (she also previously directed four short features and two documentaries). By contrast Delphine Seyrig was a renowned actress who had already played for Marguerite Duras, Luis Buñuel, Joseph Losey, Alain Resnais and François Truffaut; she was a feminist and pro-choice icon, two prominent topics in the 1970s. For info there are as well short performances of eminent professionals: Henri Storck playing the first client was a documentary director; Jacques Doniol-Valcroze playing the second one was a director and the cofounder of the influential magazine "Les Cahiers du cinéma".

Second, with such a methodical direction and minimalist environment, it is unfortunate some elements are not fully controlled. Notably, exterior scenes are not as systematised as interior ones. Also, each of the two mornings the first shot of the kitchen shows only one chair, on the left, whilst there always are two across the table. Last, the long-awaited parcel sent by Jeanne's sister from Canada only reveals a nightgown: something more meaningful would have added a final twist, for example a cooking utensil or a book.

Third, the movie's reputation is probably not exempt from ideological background: it is a feminist work because of the focus on a female character, the events depicted, the all-female crew and Seyrig's status. Paul Schrader said "Akerman's film is a favorite of mine" yet will after the S&S poll "be remembered not only as an important film in cinema history but also as a landmark of distorted woke reappraisal." Fair point, however shouldn't we appreciate art based on ethical standards as well as aesthetical ones, both evolving with time? Art cannot just be considered as pure form or assessed with immutable point of views.

Last, we cannot exclude some snobbery whereby connoisseurs feel they can appreciate an exigent movie while crowds watch blockbusters. It is a vast debate since social postures have always been intertwined with culture. Regardless, "Jeanne Dielman" is and will remain a milestone of Cinema: ground-breaking, thought-provoking, seminal. Is it a timeless masterpiece? Arguably.

Dangerous Liaisons (1988)

Decent summary of the novel

[8/10 · 22 January 2023]

It takes a lot of nerve, or imprudence, to convert such a novel into an English-speaking picture: it is a monument of World literature, epistolary which is always tricky to adapt on screen, rather long, written in French in magnificent style. We cannot overvalue its qualities and reputation: the novel was praised by famous authors such as Baudelaire, Stendhal, Nobel laureate Gide, Giraudoux and Malraux. For the last two centuries and a half, it generated in different countries countless imitations, modernisations, sequels, plays, poems, operas, ballets, musicals, songs, movies, TV films and series, radio adaptations and even a manga. Yes, this list is authentic.

Incidentally, the movie is adapted from Christopher Hampton's play written three years before and staged by no less than the Royal Shakespeare Company before going to Broadway. Naturally, in order to convert a roughly 500-page book into a two-hour feature, choices have to be made, and not simply a drastic scene selection: director Stephen Frears opts for vigour and simplification.

ENERGY

The movie only selects scenes and text essential to the overall story, omitting numerous subplots and digressions; despite this, pace is on the fast side. Also, letters are converted to face-to-face dialogs: only 9 letters are written or read out of the 175 from the novel, and then just small excerpts. It ensures liveliness, yet completely changes the design: the novel's epistolary style is very detached and cold, illustrating the ongoing manipulations. By contrast, the movie is almost too lively.-

• This is a real issue for bleak scenes for instance when Valmont abandons Tourvel: by letter it is cruel, seeing it is atrocious especially since Valmont uses unnecessary physical violence (probably not Malkovich's fault but the director's).-
• The confrontation between the two villains partly loses significance: in the novel, Merteuil and Valmont never see each other, except when Valmont discovers Danceny at her place, precisely triggering the final tragedies. When two devils just exchange letters, the world continues turning; when they meet, it crumbles.-
• John Malkovich somewhat overplays Valmont with intense gazes, sombre airs, various facial expressions, running up the stairs, walking backwards, shouting, etc. This stamina is very noticeable since he appears most on screen. Is it a flaw? Not really because it provides an extra dimension to the role, between frightening and comical, and Malkovich's charisma still operates. As a result Valmont appears as a stronger figure than in the novel where he is conceited and manipulated by Merteuil.-
• Camera movements abound; shots are varied (close, medium, wide); editing is rather brisk; we see many mirrors providing different angles: form is dense.-
• The almost continuous music frequently adds a useless layer to the already dynamic story; it is sometimes inflated for instance when Valmont seduces Tourvel or Merteuil declares war. One exception: the beginning of the second sequence at the castle, when the same piece of music (Bach's splendid BWV1065 concerto) is successively interrupted and resumed, making scenes breathe and enhancing humour. For memo part of the soundtrack is original, the other from the 18th century which is pointless: the purpose should not be about making a model period feature with a score aligned to settings and costumes, but finding an appropriate and balanced combination of elements.

Overall it is a sombre story: a rape, a miscarriage, two deaths, a social outcast. In literature, writing introduces a distance and these events are diluted by length, however visually they have more impact within a reduced plot. To partly offset this, the movie includes humour in the first part:

• Valmont shoots in the direction of Tourvel's valet and the latter has to jump to avoid the bullet as a bird files away.-
• Valmont hides at Merteuil's when she receives Volanges. He makes faces to her.-
• Valmont and Cécile exchanging a letter and a key in the castle is filmed like a hectic ballet.-
• Cécile writes a letter on Valmont's back, a scene absent from the novel, the same way Valmont wrote a letter on Emilie's back, which is in the novel.-
• Malkovich's acting is sometimes diverting as noted.

SIMPLIFY, SIMPLIFY

Frears removes some key ambiguities from the novel, which is acceptable since his options make sense.-

• Is Merteuil truly in love with Valmont? Here, yes: she is extremely jealous and even shattered when she realises Valmont loves Tourvel. Her revenge is thus not triggered by a complex mix of feelings including pride and defiance, but just by jealousy, possibly sadness. Her fit of rage at the end is apparently caused by Valmont's death, unless it is the fact her letters were published. One word about Glenn Close's performance: outstanding. She does not play Merteuil, she is Merteuil.-
• Is Valmont truly in love with Tourvel? Here it's actually passion. During the duel he realises what he has lost and prefers to die whilst in the novel this suicide by proxy is unmentioned. He asks Danceny to tell Tourvel how much he loved her: this could be inspired by a letter from Valmont to Volanges (asking her to give Tourvel a message where he declares his lasting love)... that was precisely removed by the author and now only available in appendix, possibly because he thought it would be too straightforward.-
• The characters' age is unspecified in the novel, apart from Tourvel (22) and Cécile (15). Merteuil is probably in her early 20s, Valmont at most in his late 20s and Danceny less than 20. Interestingly, the movie casts older actors, respectively: Pfeiffer (30), Thurman (18), Close (41), Malkovich (35), Reeves (24). One reason is experience came earlier in late 18th century (career, love, marriage, pregnancy, parenthood, death, etc.), hence nowadays audience can better relate to older characters. Still this does not explain the important gap for Close: apparently, Frears wanted to give extra consistency to her role. It completely changes the perspective: instead of having life in front of her, it is behind, hence her despair regarding Valmont.

Other deviations also make sense visually. The most notable examples occur towards the end.-

• Whilst in the novel it is not described, the duel is quite long and messy, diversifying rhythm and increasing authenticity.-
• Danceny voices Valmont's message to Tourvel. Remarkably, we do not hear what he says: it is too intimate and shattering. It is a compelling scene, crowned by Tourvel simply whispering: "Enough... Draw the curtains." One word about Michelle Pfeiffer's performance: breathtaking. She embodies virtue without rigidity, passion with decency, despair without overacting. Her internal portrayal impeccably balances Malkovich's.-
• At the end of the novel, Merteuil is booed at the opera, she contracts smallpox, her face is permanently scarred, she is ruined and has to flee. Of this succession of misfortunes, only the opera scene is preserved; we then see her removing her makeup: a simple and beautiful sequence illustrating her downfall. The last shot links with the beginning: she was then admiring her reflection in a mirror and getting prepared for the day, surrounded by servants; she is now unattractive, alone, her gaze lost in thoughts.-
• The fates of Cécile, returning to the convent, and Danceny, fleeing to Malta to avoid trial, are not shown or evoked: the movie focuses on the three main characters for whom the denouement is sad enough.-

As a result, the finale is close to perfection: the duel in the snow, the vertical shot on Valmont's body, Tourvel and Danceny in the monastery, Tourvel's death behind a curtain, Merteuil's debacle. Photography, pacing, acting and dialogs reach a very high level of purity.

-----

To conclude, the movie presents two limits. First, it uses the same frame as the play even if it was partly adapted: the reduced plot and selected dialogs are suited for stage thanks to the actors' presence, less so on screen where substance is abstract. A longer feature would have better rendered tempo, depth and intricacies. Second, instead of thoroughly thinking the transition, Frears used easy tricks to make it feel like cinema rather than theatre: rhythm, soundtrack, photography, activity, some exaggerations. More subtlety would have been welcome.

Nonetheless, despite its downsides "Dangerous Liaisons" is a worthy opus, notably thanks the actors' performance and a compelling ending. It arguably is the best adaptation so far. Les liaisons dangereuses (1959) set in a contemporary setting is not good nor bad, just average. Valmont (1989) is shallow and pointless, regardless of the fact it deviates from the novel on key points. Cruel Intentions (1999), another contemporary version, is not much better. I did not see the other features, however apparently none stand out. In any case, it is difficult to imagine a better Merteuil or Tourvel than Close and Pfeiffer respectively, and even Valmont than Malkovich in the dynamic genre: another genre is possible but would radically alter the role and the picture.

The Killers (1946)

Meta-Noir

[9/10 · 18 January 2023]

Archetype of film noir, "The Killers" has become cult for displaying so many qualities, providing Burt Lancaster his first role ever, Ava Gardner her first important role and the fact Hemingway said: "It is a good picture and the only good picture ever made of a story of mine" (source: Wikipedia). Regarding the last point, actually only the prologue running for approximately 15 minutes is directly adapted from Hemingway's short story: the rest of the movie is a conjecture about this simple plot. Regarding cast, Lancaster and Gardner would play together in just two other films much later on: Seven Days in May (1964) and The Cassandra Crossing (1976).

The structure essentially relies on a prologue (until Swede's death), 11 flashbacks voiced by 8 different characters and an epilogue (resolution and Colfax's death). Other "present" scenes are mainly transitions between flashbacks or fuel the action, hence most aesthetical values reside in the three abovementioned parts, for which there are two important items to consider: lighting which is a key element in noir genre and the diegetic order of the flashbacks. Below is a list of sequences, indicating if they are on the bright or dark side, and for flashbacks the order in which action occurs, between brackets.-

• Prologue: before entering the diner - Dark
• Prologue: in the diner - Bright
• Prologue: Swede's room - Dark
• Flashback: Colfax at the garage - Bright (11)
• Flashback: the Swede at the hotel - Dark (10)
• Flashback: the boxing match - Bright (1)
• Flashback: the party at Colfax's - Dark since it's night (2)
• Flashback: the restaurant - Bright (3)
• Flashback: in jail - Dark (4)
• Flashback: the planning of the heist - Dark (5)
• Flashback: the heist - Bright (8)
• Flashback: the evening before the heist - Dark (6)
• Flashback: after the heist - Bright (9)
• Flashback: the night before the heist - Dark (7)
• Epilogue: Colfax's house - Dark

LIGHT AND SHADOW

As we see, there is an almost perfect alternance between bright and dark sequences. This is not just aesthetical: it illustrates the characters' ambiguities.-

• Ole "Swede" Anderson is fair and a life-long friend of a policeman, but is easily seduced by villains after giving up boxing.-
• Kitty Collins, a model femme fatale, seems truly in love with the Swede, yet betrays him even though he spent three years in jail to save her. Does she really love Colfax by the way? When he is dying, she despairs more about her condition than his passing away. As a side note, the movie sticks to Hollywood canons: when there are two main female characters, there generally is a brunette (Kitty) and a blonde (Lilly).-
• Jim Reardon is a life insurance investigator, yet uses dangerous methods: he threatens "Dum-Dum" to obtain information before the police arrive, which allows him to escape; he's not scared of being a target for the hitmen at the end.-
• Sam Lubinsky is a police officer but risks patrons' lives in the restaurant to shoot the killers, instead of arresting them outside.-
• "Big Jim" Colfax is the gang leader, yet eventually goes straight.-
• Charleston is described by Sam as a criminal but seems like an inoffensive old fellow.-
• "Dum-Dum" Clarke probably got his nickname by shooting but is in fact not frightening and never fires once: we just hear him shoot at the end; he dies soon afterwards. He even gets dominated by an insurance agent (even if he manages to escape) and knocked out by the Swede.-
• The two hitmen are supposed to be scary, yet uncover their plot at the diner; later they just manage to shoot an unarmed person on his bed, and then not very well: the wall behind is riddled with bullet holes as we discover afterwards. They easily get eliminated at the restaurant.

Let's go a bit deeper: actually the whole movie is ambiguous.-

• If the title "The Killers" fitted Hemingway's short story since the hitmen had an important role, it becomes confusing for the film where they play a reduced part in the extended story.-
• There are four major plot twists just regarding the heist, that we progressively discover through flashbacks: Colfax apparently double-crosses the Swede by keeping him out of the split; Kitty and the Swede double-cross Colfax by fleeing with the money; Kitty double-crosses the Swede by taking the money; Colfax and Kitty double-cross everybody. Nowadays plot twists are common but in 1946 such a succession was exceptional. Everyone is hustled, including we viewers who are pushed form one side to the other.-
• All the efforts to find the money, a considerable amount at the time, only result in the insurance rate dropping... one-tenth of a cent! The supreme final irony, downsizing everything we have seen: was all the tension and violence worth it?-
• Irony is indeed frequent. On top of the abovementioned (the killers acting like amateurs, etc.), here are a few examples. An important life insurance policy (2,500$, more than Sam's annual salary of 2,200$) is given to Mary Ellen "Queenie" Doherty... who at first doesn't even remember the benefactor. The Swede at first does not realise the boxing match is over. A splendid jewel is hidden... in a broth. Kitty and Jim meet in front of a nightclub named "The Green Cat", a reference to her first name; later in the restaurant she orders... a glass of milk. Kitty abandons the Swede in... Atlantic City, the capital of divorce.-
• The Swede is the central character since he is present in all flashbacks, yet is paradoxically always in the background, physically or psychologically. In the prologue, he appears after a long time; when he does, we first don't see his face; he dies soon afterwards. In the flashbacks: he is treated rudely by Colfax at the garage; he wants to kill himself at the hotel; he loses the boxing match and is completely groggy afterwards; he is under Kitty's charm during the party at Colfax's; he appears at the very end of the scene in the restaurant and runs away; he does not talk much in jail while Charleston does; he arrives late for the planning of the heist; he is a distant figure during the heist, like the other members of the gang; he is sleeping at the beginning of the evening before the heist; he appears late in the scene after the heist; he is manipulated by Kitty the night before the heist.

A PUZZLING PUZZLE

The number of flashbacks, eleven, is exceptional for the period: the movie is fragmented like a puzzle from which we manage to pick up pieces only progressively. There is more: let's go back to the sequence list above. Here is a recap of the flashbacks diegetic order: 11, 10, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, 6, 9, 7.-

• The order of the first two scenes 11 and 10 is logical: we go backwards in time starting from the night of the murder.-
• Then the order is strictly linear: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. There hence is a first switch: after going backwards, we move chronologically. Again it is logical: after discovering a few immediate elements, we move to the very beginning of the story and follow the thread.-
• However the last four flashbacks are doubly troubling. First because the action occurs in less than a day, from the evening before the heist to shortly after the heist, while the other flashbacks spread over more than three years. Second because the order is altered: 8, 6, 9, 7; they look like parallel lines (8, 9 and 6, 7) intertwined. Thus towards the end, structure becomes condensed and confused, in line with the successive plot twists: rarely has form been so consistent with content.

In summary, "The Killers" is an absolute reference of the genre and probably Robert Siodmak's masterpiece, which says something: at the time he had already directed 28 full features in Germany, France and United States; he would direct 55 in his whole career. In total he directed twelve films noirs, more than any other director. The movie perfectly applies the genre canons and transcends them by its remarkable construction, photography and complexity: it is a perfect combination of Hollywood style and German Expressionism, which greatly influenced Siodmak.

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001)

Efficient adaptation, faithful literally if not spiritually

[8/10 · 1 December 2022]

This review addresses all three movies that strictly speaking do not form a trilogy since they are connected, the same way Tolkien's opus was a single novel published in three volumes, each comprising two "Books". To simplify, the works are referenced by the following acronyms: FR (The Fellowship of the Ring), TT (The Two Towers), RK (The Return of the King).

THE QUALITIES

• The movies are visually impressive and do not seem long despite running for a total of 9h20 (11h30 in the extended version that is not discussed here). Pacing is sustained, maybe too much, yet does allow slow scenes as in the Shire, Rivendell and Lothlorien. Within this logic, rhythm is more credible: the 17 years between Gandalf leaving the Shire and returning feel much shorter (FR); Frodo leaves immediately after Gandalf does whilst in the novel it takes months (FR).

• The selection of scenes is adequate. Due to length several were omitted which triggered criticism, notably the part with Tom Bombadil (FR) or Saruman trying to outsmart Sauron (TT), but they are not very important losses. The scouring of the Shire and Saruman's death at the end of RK are discarded because it is anticlimactic, albeit meaningful since the Hobbits are transformed by their journey and Frodo rejects violence. Also, the movies essentially omit Tolkien's numerous songs and poems which is a good point: they would have been awkward on screen especially since they are not pieces of superlative literature.

• The structure is revised arguably for the better: Tolkien focuses during several chapters on selected characters, intentionally leaving the reader in expectation regarding others for a long time (TT, RK). Here scenes alternate hence the viewer is permanently updated, since it would be difficult in cinema to grasp the concomitance of plots that can be outlined in writing. The movies also move explanations to prologues: Sauron and the Rings of Power, for immediate clarity (FR); how Smeagol took the Ring, for substance (RK). Last, endings differ from the Books to limit cliffhangers which seems paradoxical yet makes sense for films released over three years: the Orcs' attack is moved from the beginning of TT to the end of FR, avoiding a suspended action; Frodo's capture by Orcs in the mountain is moved from the end of TT to the beginning of RK.

• The movies illustrate some of Tolkien's themes: good vs evil, fate, duty, courage, addiction to power, environment (Saruman destroying trees), etc. Some critics have argued they are secondary, but let's be honest: so are they in the novel which includes lengthy parts with action and dialogs, seldom about metaphysics. Indeed it is difficult to combine epic and depth, "Moby Dick" being a notable exception. In fact the films manage to be slightly less sexist by providing additional parts to female roles: Galadriel voices the FR prologue; Arwen is more present; she rescues Frodo in FR and telepathically helps Aragorn after his fall in TT; Eowyn has a stronger personality. On the other hand, the movies preserve the traditional values of the novel: the view on races is Manichean and monarchy is glorified.

• The movies efficiently include elements from Tolkien's History of Middle-earth: Gandalf reading the scroll of Isildur in Minas Tirith (FR), the romance between Arwen and Aragorn, the origins of Orcs about which Tolkien's explanations varied. They also add short scenes strengthening consistency and visual impact: Elrond tells Gandalf how Isildur refused to destroy the Ring in a way different than Tolkien's, announcing Frodo's turnaround at the end of RK (FR); everyone argues at the Council of Elrond under the influence of the Ring (FR); Boromir is tempted by the Ring in the mountain (FR); Theoden's mind is possessed by Saruman instead of just being deluded by Wormtongue (TT); Aragorn convinces the spectres to join him (RK); the four Hobbits interestingly have mixed feelings after returning to the Shire (RK).

• Visual effects are convincing notably Frodo's vision when he wears the Ring and the bestiary, except Ents who are cartoonesque. Artefacts and sets are awesome, notably Moria, Edoras and Minas Tirith, bar some looking partly fake: parts of Rivendell, parts of Lothlorien, Mount Doom, the Grey Havens. Scenery is breathtaking to the point of being a permanent advertising for New Zealand, enhanced by several aerial shots and inserts for instance the two giant statues on river Anduin in FR. Sound effects are impressive, for example noises illustrating the power of the Ring.

• The soundtrack, beautifully performed by renowned orchestras, choirs and singers, is based on varied, catching and evolving leitmotifs representing characters, places and the Ring: with approximately 100 of these, it is according to Wikipedia the largest catalogue ever, surpassing that of the entire Star Wars series. The drawback is music is almost continuous so our ears do feel like a rest at times.

THE LIMITS

• The movies overdramatise situations even when it's not required. There is a general tendency to overact, frequently highlighted by close shots: we see a lot of frowning, intense gazing and exalted dialogues. Orcs, filmed in detail, are beyond ghastly and frequently shout instead of simply being present which would have been loathsome enough. The score sometimes adds a layer of grandiloquence. This is unfortunately a tendency in contemporary cinema to give the audience its money's worth of sound, performance, camera movements, special effects and so on. Essentially it tells us how we should feel.

• Characters are relatively shallow but let's be honest again: so are they in the novel where psychology is reduced and villains like Saruman, Wormtongue and Sauron are completely kept in the background which is unfortunate for the important good vs evil theme. Indeed it is difficult to combine epic and emotions, "War and Peace" being a notable exception together with the abovementioned. Actually the movies depict Gollum, Saruman and even Wormtongue better than the novel does. On the other hand, Frodo is mainly shown as whiny which is one-sided (the actor's youth could partly explain this): because of that and the increased focus on Aragorn, we almost feel the latter is the lead role, in contradiction with Tolkien's intention. Only at the very end do we fully empathise with Frodo's unredeemable physical and psychological traumas. As a side note, the mighty Gimli becomes a comic relief, which is acceptable to offset all the action and tension throughout.

• Battles are too extensive: Moria (FR), river Anduin (FR), Helm's Deep (TT), Minas Tirith (RK), the Black Gate (RK). Granted, Tolkien also describes them at length but we reach saturation earlier when watching than reading. The movies also add totally unrequired combats: Gandalf vs Saruman whilst a longer dialogue between the two wizards would have been more stimulating (FR), the gates of Moria (FR), the Wargs' attack (TT), the Ents storming Isengard (TT), the taking of Osgiliath (RK), the last two being only evoked in the novel.

• By contrast to the above note about purposefully added short scenes, some extra and long subplots are useless: Aragorn falls after the Wargs' attack (TT); Faramir takes Frodo and Sam to Osgiliath and the Nazgul attacks (TT); Arwen decides to leave overseas (TT) and changes her mind (RK); Frodo sends Sam away (RK).

• The movies do not try to clarify the novel's inconsistencies. Why only include 9 members in the Fellowship (yes there are also 9 Black Riders, so what)? What are the odds of 8 of those 9 surviving such a quest? Why do Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli choose to save two blundering Hobbits instead of continuing to help the Ring-Bearer who will decide the fate of Middle-earth (FR)? Why don't Saruman and Sauron coordinate their attacks instead of letting their enemies regroup (TT, RK)? And why does Sauron only unleash a part of his troops against Minas Tirith (RK)? If the giant eagles can defeat Nazguls, why don't they intervene at the battle of Minas Tirith (RK), and even Helm's Deep (TT)? And why don't they simply carry Frodo towards Mount Doom instead of letting him walk all the way, the same way they bring him back? There are only two exceptions: the fact four inexperienced Hobbits are allowed to join five mighty fighters on such a dangerous and essential mission is handled with humour (FR); the Black Riders altogether abandon Weathertop because Aragorn completely dominates them, which is a minor inconsistency compared to the absence of explanation (FR).

-----

Overall the "Trilogy" is technically impeccable and coherent even if Tolkien's fans could feel deceived. Despite the grandiloquence and emphasis on combat, style is realistic with great care for details: Peter Jackson said he wanted his films to look like a historical account. Out of the three movies, TT is arguably slightly superior: pacing is more abated despite the long battle in Helm's Deep, that is well shot anyhow; Gollum's personality is revealed; there are beautiful sequences such as the ones involving Arwen; the atmosphere is more dreamlike in line with the novel, for instance Frodo's dream at the beginning or the Dead Marshes; the opening backward aerial shot on the mountains is compelling, as if we were leaving them with the characters.

In summary "The Two Towers" leans more towards fantasy whilst the other two movies lean more towards action. One reason might be the former as a book is approximately 20% shorter than "The Fellowship of the Ring", whilst as film they both run for 3 hours: Jackson had more time to include atmospheric elements instead of just events, especially after moving two sequences as noted. "The Return of the King" is also shorter on paper, however despite running for 3h20 on screen is mainly focused on action with the chaotic crossing to Mordor and the lengthy battle of Minas Tirith, as well as on the epilogue (20 minutes following Frodo awaking in Minas Tirith).

Voices from Chernobyl (2016)

Unique docufiction about a major disaster

[9/10 · 12 April 2022]

It is surprising no user review has yet been written about "Voices from Chernobyl" ("La Supplication") because it is an outstanding mix of documentary and art about one of the biggest man-made disasters in history. Also, it is based on a relatively famous book: "Voices from Chernobyl: The Oral History of a Nuclear Disaster" by Nobel Prize laureate Svetlana Alexievich published in 1997. The latter spent ten years interviewing more than 500 eyewitnesses mostly in Belarus where the author lived, since the South of Belarus was most affected by the accident which occurred just across the border in Ukraine, because of Northbound winds (reminder: both Republics were part of USSR back in 1986). For information the famous series Chernobyl (2019) includes numerous events related in the book, notably entire scenes in hospitals, the elimination of domesticated animals, the life of soldiers and miners, etc.

The movie opens on the same lines as in the book: "I don't know what to talk about: death or love? Or is it the same? (...)" And ends the same way: "(...) We'll wait for him together. I'll whisper my Chernobyl supplication and he'll look at the world with the eyes of a child." The rest of the film only selects parts of the book naturally, else it would run for hours, and, more remarkably, changes the order of testimonies because the internal logics of the feature and the book differ. Actually a whole essay could be written about these logics, their similarities and differences as well as the way testimonies fit in the right place for each work.

HOW TO FILM DISASTER?

This is the eternal trick question for cinema which applies to all types of tragedies (war, genocide, etc.). Showing too much would be voyeuristic and unbearable: there is a distance in written fiction or essay that is difficult to reproduce on screen. Showing too little would distort the original message and lack respect for the victims. "La Supplication" opts for another path: it transposes tragedy, not too close nor too far but to the side. It does not really depict the disaster: it is an evocation by permanently introducing a distance.

• Witnesses are played by actors. The movie could have filmed people who testified for the book (out of 500, a few should have been available) or at least who lived in the area at the time, and/or shown archive footage and pictures.-
• Actors do no talk: there is a constant voiceover. There is frequently no one on screen while narration proceeds: we then wonder who is talking. To emphasise this point, the movie opens and closes on "empty" shots.-
• Actors are from former USSR while dialogs are in French, spoken by distinct persons, the only exception being Dinara Drukarova who both acts and talks, also off screen. The dialogs could have been spoken by the actors, even in voiceover: the latter could have been French or Luxemburgish, the director's nationality, or conversely, the language could have been Belarusian or Russian.-
• Images sometimes emphasise dialogs, sometimes not: as spectators we are constantly looking for correspondences.-
• Characters are almost always alone even in places where they normally wouldn't be (large office, street, buildings): we then question the reality of images.-
• Most testimonies are critical about the way the aftermath was handled by authorities, whilst in the book some are more neutral or even, albeit rarely, try to justify what happened: distance with the events is enhanced.

DOUBLE-SIDEDNESS

That distance embodies a dichotomy throughout the movie: there is an apparently normal setting and a concealed terrible reality. Indeed the film is double-edged as the book which exposes a bright and a dark side (e.g. The opening lines: "death or love (...) is it the same?"). On the one hand, form is straightforward; on the other, intense emotions gradually surface, akin to poetry using simple words.

• Persons are silent and generally motionless even when there are stimuli (rain falling, birds flying close), because they are at the same time living and dead: impacted by radiations and ignored by authorities who were more concerned about saving face than helping the population. Or are they the ghosts of Chernobyl, coming back to where they last lived?-
• This ambiguity about the living is emphasised by the fact we sometimes see characters reflected in mirrors, as well as other reflections (on tables, in windows, etc.) and symmetrical shots (two doors, two windows, etc.).-
• The above-mentioned empty shots, balanced by the continuing voiceovers, evoke the deceased including witnesses who died of long-term disease: only their testimonies remain. Their spirit fill the screen.-
• There is an overall quietness and stillness as if time were suspended: no music, soft off-screen voices, low noises, still images, few camera movements, limited action, shots on stopped clocks. This contrasts with the shock of the incident at the time (explosion, fire, activity around the plant, evacuations): it illustrates the fact imperceptible radiations will affect humans, fauna and flora for ages.-
• Images are beautiful, a surprising choice for a catastrophe of that magnitude: sunny weather, blossoming trees, colourful interiors, wandering animals, the nuclear plant lit at night, etc. Even the rundown rooms and constructions look artistic. We don't see any of the dreadful testimonies narrated, notably the impact of radioactivity on liquidators and newborns. Despite the tragedy, life goes on with the invisible peril.-
• Situations look normal but are frequently incongruous, exposing the absurdity of the catastrophe and its handling by the regime: a man steals his own door on a motorbike; a woman sits like a statue on a chair inside a building while birds fly past her; it rains inside; a merry-go-round turns for no reason, one way then the other; doors open on their own; the light is sometimes exceedingly bright. However all this could be explainable: the man has no choice if he wants to keep the door; the woman could be in shock; there might be leaks in the ceiling letting the rain drip inside; the wind might propel the merry-go-round; it might also push the doors; the sun might be very bright. Or are these phenomena caused by the spirits we mentioned? In any case absurdity has now become normality.-
• The movie is classified as documentary since it relies on authentic testimonies, yet is at the same time a piece of art: elaborate shots, correlation (or not) between image and text, articulation of testimonies, underlying emotions. As such, it is comparable to the book which is altogether essay and literature. Director Pol Cruchten said he was inspired by Andrei Tarkovsky who included fantasy in seemingly plain environments.

Hence strictly speaking "La Supplication" is more docu-poetry than docu-fiction, illustrating the disaster in indirect and evocative ways: a rare genre and a remarkable if relatively unknown opus.

Rear Window (1954)

Finely crafted and entertaining but not Hitch's best

[8/10 · 18 February 2022]

WE ARE ALL VOYEURS... ALTHOUGH SMART ONES

Many reviews have highlighted "Rear Window" is about voyeurism, however there is more to it. First, it shows we ALL are peeping toms: despite his amiable demeanour, Sir Alfred Hitchcock had a quite sombre opinion about human psyche.

• Jeff is obsessed by taking photos around the world and by what is happening around the courtyard. Metaphorically he is impotent (the broken leg), replacing his sexual stamina by his gaze: instead of binoculars he prefers to use a very long lens as a penis substitute (no I'm not pushing it: Hitchcock frequently included sexual innuendos in his pictures).-
• Lisa and Stella are at first critical about Jeff's voyeurism, but progressively give in to the same habit to the extent they actively search the garden and Thorwald's apartment.-
• Doyle watches Miss Torso; a neighbour watches the sculpture made by the artist; the latter watches the dog on the other side of the fence; Thorwald stares at Jeff when Lisa signals she has the wedding ring, etc.-
• When two ladies undress on the rooftop to sunbathe, a helicopter hovers above the building: the pilot is probably looking at them (I only understood the relevance of that shot after seeing the movie thrice).-
• When the woman is shouting about her dead dog, all neighbours watch her without saying anything, not even a few words of compassion ("We're sorry") or denial ("We didn't do it"). A guest even says "It's only a dog", downgrading her sorrow: she just is a distant image.-
• We spectators watch all this, see what Jeff does and are fascinated as he is: the entire movie is shot in subjective view except the ending (more on this below). Naturally we can pretend it is precisely the nature of cinema, yet it is a chicken-and-egg situation: does cinema develop or fulfil our voyeuristic instincts?

Second, we are smart peeping toms: the film enhances the audience's active viewing since we are always thinking about what is happening.

• We interpret Jeff's frequently changing facial expressions: tenderness, lust, compassion, disapproval, embarrassment, anguish, etc. We are the voyeur's voyeurs.-
• We decipher seemingly plain shots, for instance the above-mentioned helicopter (an intelligence test I failed twice) or when the woman is shouting about her dead dog: in Thorwald's dark apartment we notice a small red light; we understand he is smoking a cigar, patiently waiting for the outrage to abate.-
• We take sides about the murder mystery, trying to arbitrage between Jeff's and Doyle's points, all valid.-
• We understand relatively elaborate situations through limited information, notably the neighbour's lives: Thorwald has a mistress (he hangs up the phone when his wife comes in); Miss Torso does not like dominant men (her last boyfriend is smaller than she is); Miss Lonelyhearts probably had several romantic failures; the dog owners probably are compensating for the fact they have no children, etc. Also when Jeff is called by an unknown person, we gather it is Thorwald and he most likely used the same trick as Lisa and Jeff previously did, i.e. Looked on the letterbox for the name corresponding to the apartment and searched it in the phonebook.

THE COURTYARD AS A WORLD

The main reason for this active voyeurism is the courtyard feels like a complete environment, without anything else to watch and interpret. "The courtyard is the world, the reporter/photographer is the filmmaker, the binoculars stand for the camera and its lenses" (Truffaut). We never see anything else (Hitchcock originally wanted to show the other side of Jeff's conversation with his editor on the phone by showing the latter in his office but eventually discarded the idea); however we see everything:

• Both genders and all age groups, apart from children;
• All sentimental situations: bachelor, easy flirts, violent flirts, newlywed, standard marriage, unhappy marriage, happy encounters. Love is omnipresent, echoing Jeff's doubts about marrying Lisa;
• Love, hate, life, death, happiness, sorrow, anger, etc.;
• Work, leisure, sleeping, eating, different occupations;
• Morning, day, evening, night, heat, temperate climate, sun, rain.

Additionally:

• Jeff who longs to resume travelling the World is actually quite happy to stare outside his window as a substitute.-
• Despite the proximity, people seem very far apart: inhabitants can hear everybody's conversations, noises and music, yet know little about each other (for instance Jeff asks Lisa to look for Thorwald's name on his letterbox). Here Hitchcock partly addresses an issue about our modern societies: living physically close yet emotionally distant, as emphasised by the woman who lost her dog. It also applies to relationships between women and men: all couples experience tension, including the newlyweds.-
• Except during opening and closing credits, the music is diegetic i.e. Directly emerging from the action, hence there is indeed nothing coming from outside the courtyard. The soundtrack even references the plot, as in a closed loop: Lisa Fremont ("Lisa", "Mona Lisa"), voyeurism and love ("To See You Is to Love You"), love ("That's Amore", "Lover", "M'appari tutt'amor").

We are stuck in this world as Jeff is. However towards the end the omnipresent subjective view disintegrates: there are general and reversed shots that Jeff couldn't possibly visualise. We even experience the killer's gaze when he sees Jeff in his dark apartment, then is blinded by the flashes (orange circles invading the screen). As spectators we hence eventually take distance with Jeff and his environment before returning to our own world: putting into perspective all we have seen is a canon of clever cinema.

IS BEAUTY SKIN-DEEP?

Most of all, "Rear Window" has all the ingredient of a successful movie:

• Classy and handsome main actors. Male audiences can fantasise about attracting the sublime Grace Kelly or simply a woman 21 years younger. Female audiences can fantasise about seducing the great James Stewart regardless of age and Grace Kelly's stupendous wardrobe;
• Archetypal characters;
• Witty dialogues and humour. Just James Stewart's expressions as he is trying to eat while Stella describes gruesome murders is worth the theatre's ticket price;
• A straightforward plot with sustained pacing, suspense, action, "good guys", a villain, etc.;
• Ostensibly impeccable technique: camera movements and deep focus (e.g. Going from Jeff's apartment to the courtyard and back), use of subjective shots (e.g. The magnificent first image of Grace Kelly's face moving towards the camera), lighting and shadows (e.g. The showdown between Jeff and Thorwald in the dark);
• Simple considerations about voyeurism and life;
• The comforting feeling we are intelligent spectators as mentioned above;
• The individual (Jeff and Lisa) being right against the system (the police);
• Focus on a growing romance, which was not in the original short story;
• A happy ending, actually threefold: Lisa & Jeff, Miss Lonelyhearts and the songwriter, Miss Torso & her latest boyfriend.

As such, it is comparable to other Hitchcock's hits such as Notorious (1946) or North by Northwest (1959) and very different than Vertigo (1958) which precisely flopped because it is the opposite: James Stewart is not shown in his best shape; Kim Novak is not as classy as Grace Kelly especially in the second part; characters are ambiguous; there is little humour; the plot is slow and far-fetched; technical qualities are not obvious; themes are complex; we don't understand what is happening for a long time; persons generally make wrong choices; the love stories are chaotic; the ending is not only unhappy, it echoes another dramatic scene closing the first part.

Here is the main difference between a good film and a masterpiece: the latter does not necessarily try to seduce; it reaches universal and deep themes, ideas and emotions as "Vertigo" does. Granted, "Rear Window" is finely crafted and utterly enjoyable but its thematic is not far reaching: it essentially supports the plot and provides a decent layer of content below the spotless form. Revealingly, many of its reviews expand upon the success ingredients listed above (acting, dialogues, technique, etc.) and little on metaphysics: once you explained the picture is a metaphor about voyeurism, cinema and the world, there is not much more to add.

I believe we generally read and write reviews to prove to ourselves and others we are right to instinctively like or dislike a movie (the same applies to literature): we use intellect, rhetoric and cultural references to justify our intimate feelings. So do many reviews about "Rear Window": they try to objectivise the genuine pleasure we all experience watching the film.

The Godfather Part II (1974)

Remarkable correspondences and construction

[9/10 · 19 November 2021]

Many reviews have been written about "The Godfather: Part II" (G2) so I will only focus on two items: links with The Godfather (1972) (G1) and structure of the movie.

A DEGRADED "GODFATHER PART I"

There are many correspondences between G2 and G1: G2 references to various elements from the previous movie, yet in a degraded and sombre mode, illustrating the contrast between Vito's social ascension and Michael's moral downfall. Here are just key examples.

• G1 opens on an exterior wedding party; inside Vito's office, people ask for his help and present their respects. / G2 (after the prologue in Sicily) opens on an exterior communion party; inside Michael's office, the latter is insulted by the Senator.-
• G1: the horse is decapitated and his head put into the producer's bed to scare him. / G2: a prostitute is massacred, her bleeding body lying in bed, to frame the Senator. Despite being less graphic, this scene is more shocking than the previous one.-
• G1: the Corleones receives two fishes indicating Luca Brasi "sleeps with the fishes". / G2: Fredo's body will be thrown into the lake amongst the fishes he used to take.-
• G1: at Vito's funeral attendance is high; everyone including other Mafia families is united and acts in a friendly way (although this hides a plot to assassinate Michael). / G2: at Carmella's funeral attendance is lower; Michael first refuses to see Fredo, then agrees, however the truce will be short.-
• G1 ends with parallel editing alternating between Michael's godson's baptism and the murders of five Mafia heads. This is only partly shocking since they are criminals and intended to kill Michael anyhow. / G2 ends on parallel editing alternating between three pathetic murders while Fredo says the prayer "Hail Mary": a terminally ill old man (Roth), an old man by proxy (Pentangeli's suicide), Michael's own brother (Fredo).-
• At the very end of G1, Michael is in the house surrounded by his family and his men; the scene is bright. / In the last shot of G2, Michael is alone outside only surrounded by dead leaves; the scene is dark.-
• G1: the final shot shows Michael's hitman closing the door on Kay. / G2: Michael himself closes the door on Kay, preventing her from kissing her children goodbye.-
• Overall, G1 chronology is linear. / G2 presents a fragmented timeline with many flashbacks and sequences of variable lengths (see below).-
• G1 includes dark scenes (Vito's office, the restaurant at night, etc.) but actually more bright ones, notably the entire part in Sicily. Some bright scenes even depict a bleak story: Paulie's murder, Sonny's shooting, Vito's death, Vito's funeral, Carlo's murder. / G2 opens on a very dark scene, albeit short (Michael in his office) and has many more dark ones, to the point we sometimes do not see the actors' eyes.-
• In G1, the weather is frequently sunny and warm. / G2 shows snowy exteriors and ends in autumn with dead leaves covering the immense garden.-
• Regarding soundtrack, the famed and beautiful "Love Theme" played at length in G1 is only briefly played once in G2 (appropriately when Vito returns to Sicily).

REMARKABLE STRUCTURE

Below is the organisation of the movie with the rounded lengths. It alternates 7 "present" sequences and 6 flashbacks:

• A - 1958: Michael in his office (1')
• B - 1901: Vito in Sicily then Ellis Island (10')
• C - 1958: Michael in Tahoe (32')
• D - 1917: Vito in New York (16')
• E - 1958-59: Michael in USA then Cuba (51')
• F - 1917: Vito in New York (16')
• G - 1959: Senate hearings (7')
• H - 1920: Vito in New York (7')
• I - 1959: Senate hearings (23')
• J - 1925: Vito in Sicily (7')
• K - 1959: Carmella's funeral, final murders (21')
• L - 1941: Vito's surprise party (4')
• M - 1959: Michael alone in his garden (1')

Then closing credits (5') for a total of 3h22.

Flashbacks represent a cumulated length of just one hour but cover a long period of time (1901 to 1941). By contrast, present sequences last for two hours and a quarter yet only span a year and a half (mid-1958 to end-1959): we feel there is a progression in Vito's story while Michael's is stagnating, and in some ways regressing. Indeed, the last scene loops with the first one: both are short, dark and silent showing a close-up of Michael's face on the right; yet while in the first Michael was respected and protected by his house, in the last he is alone and exposed to the outside world.

Also, all flashbacks involving the young Vito (B, D, F, H, J) have a comparable length: from 7 to 16 minutes. Some are even equal: 7 minutes (H, J), 16 minutes (D, F). This creates a sense of stability as we follow Vito's evolution. By contrast, present sequences have very different lengths: from less than one minute (A, M) to 51 (E). This generates uncertainty and instability on line with Michael's dangerous and immoral evolution. Of course we don't watch a movie looking at a timer but we intuitively feel its rhythm.

Last, the same way Part II is a degraded version of "The Godfather" as we saw, contemporary parts are a degraded version of flashbacks. This is notably illustrated by transitions between sequences, highlighting contrasts between present and past. (The only exception is the transition between parts B and C which highlights continuity: insert indicating "Vito Corleone (...)" -> insert indicating "His grandson Anthony Vito Corleone (...)".)

• C: father and son (Michael and Anthony) are together, yet in a difficult situation since their house was assaulted -> D: father and son (Vito and Sonny) as well as Carmella are together in a happy mood.-
• D: Vito and his family are again together -> E: Michael has to go away from his family.-
• E: Michael learns Kay had a miscarriage, hence they lost a child -> F: baby Fredo has pneumonia but will survive.-
• F: Vito is with his family, Michael in his arms; it is a happy scene -> G: Michael is alone in the snow then has to face the Senate hearings where the word "family" is used pejoratively to designate the Mafia.-
• G: Michael talks to his mother, he is scared about losing his family -> H: Vito's power is growing, he is building a family both as a father and as a Mafia head.-
• H: Vito sets up Genco company which will make him powerful -> I: Michael could lose everything at the Senate hearings.-
• I: Kay tells Michael she aborted; they will separate -> J: Vito surrounded by his family goes back to his roots in Sicily.-
• J: Vito kills Don Ciccio avenging his family and leaves Sicily; for him it is an appropriate end of an era -> K: Michael's mother is dead; it is a sad end of an era.-
• K: there are three murders, of which Fredo's -> L: the family is gathered around the table, including Fredo.-
• L: the gathered family happily sings for Vito; then there is a shot of baby Michael in Vito's arms waving goodbye from the noisy train (same as end of J) -> M: Michael is alone and silent in his garden.

PIVOTAL ENDING

The penultimate scene depicting Vito's birthday (L) is especially compelling. At the end of K, Michael is alone in his house after Fredo's assassination; he remembers with nostalgia that party were the family was gathered: it is the only flashback based on Michael's memory since the other ones illustrate Vito's life. It started joyfully, however gradually became grim. For starters, Michael had an argument with Sonny and Tom about joining the army. Ironically, Fredo was the only one supporting him, precisely that brother he just killed. And out of the nine persons present, we realise six are now dead, either naturally (Vito, Carmella) or murdered (Sonny), including by Michael himself (Tessio, Carlo, Fredo). The table then progressively became empty: a metaphor of the plot where characters are eliminated one after the other. At the end Michael remained alone while the family sung "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" off-screen, a perfect counterpoint to his past and present situations.

The flashback hence only makes complete sense at the end: it does not come to Michael's mind because he is trying to revive a family feeling as we think at the beginning, but because he associates his present solitude with what he then experienced. This scene is pivotal not only to the movie but to the entire Trilogy: we better understand Michael. First, he remembers it during a key moment of his life: he is as powerful as ever, having diversified his empire, dodged the Senate hearings and eliminated his enemies, yet also as lonely as ever, divorced, with a reduced family and children who cannot be completely happy. Second, it was a key moment in itself: Michael for the first and last time diverged from his family, just before going to war. When he returns four years later, he progressively embraces their business. So Michael is now wondering: Was I right to try another way, only to come back later on? Or should have I permanently diverged at the risk of losing my family?

Throughout the Trilogy Michael is obsessed with being part of a family, yet by taking over the business to avoid being lonely as he was at the party, he eventually failed: he endangered relatives; he couldn't save Apollonia and Sonny; he murdered his brother-in-law and his sister became an enemy; Kay aborted and divorced because of his crimes; he murdered Fredo; he killed some of his friends and allies. What could he have done differently? Where did he go astray? Could he have chosen the same path and avoided this tragic vacuum? The Trilogy is about the Mafia, America and Capitalism as Coppola said, but also about a man's destiny and decisions.

The last short flashback showing Michael as a baby waving goodbye represents an adieu to his happy past before he made the wrong choices. In the following ultimate shot, Michael at the height of his reign and isolation cannot do anything else than meditate on the missed opportunities. The autumn surrounding him is his own autumn: Part III will be his winter.

OSS 117: From Africa with Love (2021)

On line with the franchise, slightly below par

[7/10 · 31 August 2021]

What makes a good comedy? "Alerte rouge en Afrique noire" ("From Africa with Love") enables to partly answer the question since its upsides and downsides are very contrasting. To be clear, I liked the previous films of the franchise directed by Michel Hazanavicius, namely OSS 117: Le Caire, nid d'espions (2006) and OSS 117: Rio ne répond plus (2009) which was the best with hilarious scenes such as the crocodile roasting and visual feasts like the sequence in the Christ Redeemer statue at the end. And to avoid any ambiguity, I have nothing against director Nicolas Bedos who is a controversial figure in France.

"WITH LOVE": THE QUALITIES

• Acting is again spotless including for secondary roles and of course by Jean Dujardin. Granted, Pierre Niney was sometimes criticised for his performance, however could he have better played a relatively shallow character?-
• Humour is on the heavy side as in previous films, yet is still efficient with its variety of caricatures, second degree tone and witty dialogues. Some scenes are hilarious for instance when OSS117 fantasises about French clichés while making love with Zéphyrine. Period clothing and devices are risible, for instance the "portable computer" weighting 10 kg and the "mobile phone" the size of a briefcase. So overall it's a fun watch even though there are numerous references to French culture and dated phrases which a foreign audience would miss.-
• James Bond parodic elements are clever, notably the opening credits with the song, naked women used as screens, the agent, the car, cocktails, etc., all in a dorky French mode. There is a pre-credit prologue and naturally it is over the top. Bond's complicity with Moneypenny is transposed into a model of indelicacy. The secret services' vault, instead of Q's deadly gadgets, only hosts computers and nerds. In the bar, OSS117 does not order a cocktail as OSS1001 but a basic drink. OSS117's supposedly "illimited material" turns out to be an old-fashioned pimp car with cigarettes and alcohol instead of useful devices.-
• There is some depth, notably criticism about post-colonialism named "Françafrique" ("Frenchafrica"): how France interferes with African politics, security and economy. The scene where OSS117 and Lesignac laugh about African countries pseudo independence is funny and revealing. The French arch-villain's name, Lépervier, is a reference to the lengthy Epervier Operation (1986-2014) supporting despots in Chad. African regimes are not spared either: dictatorial, corrupt, incompetent. Most of all these critics are still valid nowadays.-
• There are references to French politics notably the red scare when Mitterrand was about to be elected in 1981 and then-President Giscard d'Estaing's passions for hunting and diamonds... As a reminder, Bedos is left-wing and his renowned father who passed away last year was very critical about Giscard d'Estaing at the time.-
• Through the main character, the movie again targets prejudice, racism, sexism, homophobia, as well as "beaufs" (rednecks) proud about themselves, their jokes, car, clothing, etc. It includes feminist undertones when OSS117 is confronted to independent and smart women; actually most male characters, including OSS1001, are somewhat ridiculous whilst female characters have class. On the other hand, the movie also targets liberals: the racist OSS117 tries to behave for once, however only manages to be patronising. Hence there is an overarching sarcasm about a politically correct mindset trying to be friendly with people of colour but only aggravating the situation.

"ALERTE ROUGE": THE FLAWS

• Pacing is not as sustained as in previous films: some sequences are long, notably the whole operation in the savanna. The fact most of the action occurs in a single country does not help (the prologue in Afghanistan could be anywhere and we practically see nothing of France). It is difficult to maintain humour for 2 hours and indeed, the two previous features were 20 minutes shorter.-
• The fact it is a comedy should not prevent consistency. The Soviet mercenary opens a box full of grenades for his enemy. OSS117 is immediately attacked just because someone shouts "Thief! Racist!" on the street (there are dangerous places in Africa however this doesn't look like one of them). OSS1001 expects Lépervier to provide him information after assaulting all his men. Zéphyrine frees OSS117 who has always been a threat, just on a hunch. Then sleeps with him, then imprisons him again just because he is stupid (jails would be overloaded if we generalised that rule).-
• OSS117's gaffes about Africa and people of colour are repetitive. He blunders with the hotel porter, then with the president. He patronises the young child about football. He blunders again with Zéphyrine in the village then voices the most ridiculous speech of World History next to her in bed.-
• This recurrent trick not only becomes slightly tedious: it raises an ethical question about the movie. The latter criticises condescending attitudes as we have seen, yet paradoxically exhibits a façade of Africa to offset the façade of OSS117. First it identifies the continent as a single entity as shown by the title with "Africa" and the fact the country is unknown (for info, it was actually shot in Kenya). Then we don't see different cultures, religions, tribes (only quick references to Zéphyrine's tribe): we mostly see stereotypes. Hence OSS117's map only showing countries outlines becomes a metaphor about the movie: a distant French or even European view about the region. It is more ambitious than a standard comedy by including ethical insight as noted above (post-colonialism, politics, racism, etc.), yet mostly remains disconnected from the people involved... a bit as OSS117 himself is.

In summary, even if "Alerte rouge en Afrique noire" is watchable, it is to date the weakest of the franchise. It manages to entertain and perpetuate its peculiar style, somewhere between Johnny English and James Bond with a "beauf" twist, but unfortunately falls short on different levels.

Bye Bye Morons (2020)

Bonjour l'artiste: singular dystopian comedy

[8/10 · 12 November 2020]

Comedy is like pastry: trying to make something light and original with sugar. Albert Dupontel explored it throughout his career by adding bitter ingredients: his movies are at the same time funny, odd, sad and sometimes deep. His style has evolved, from weird first movies to lately an excellent comedy (9 mois ferme (2013)) and a stylised feature (Au revoir là-haut (2017), though not my favourite as it felt like "Amélie Poulain & World War I"). "Adieu les cons" ("Bye bye morons") is one of Dupontel's best, more controlled than ever without losing creativity and wit. As indicated by the title, it is slightly provocative, however there is more than that.

DEPTH & NOSTALGIA

The movie addresses numerous serious topics: workplace injuries (Suze's intoxication), corporate pressure, bureaucratic inefficiency, dehumanisation (e.g. mispronounced names), burnout, suicide, teenage mothers, abandoned children, filiation (recurrent Dupontel theme), extensive digital surveillance, police violence (hot topic nowadays in France), cities transformed into grey blocks. And lighter ones: psychologists' claptrap, doctors' indecipherable handwriting, our addiction to mobiles (the shot in the metro, the crowd at the end), the silly things one does when in love. Depth is relative since it remains a comedy, but the variety and relevance of subjects is significant.

The vision is nostalgic, even pessimistic, as hinted by "Adieu" from the title. The past frequently barges in: flashbacks, teenage Suze in the flesh, files of bygone persons and places, the archivist's evocation of the city, the doctor's diary, photos of his trips with his wife. However these memories clash with a grim present. Adieu our past we messed up. Why did he have to become blind? Why could she not keep her child? Why did we destroy maternity hospitals? Why did we disfigure our cities? Why do we work for these corporations? Why are we addicted to networks that are tracking our intimacy? Les cons, c'est aussi nous (we also are the morons). The happiest character, all considered, is the doctor with Alzheimer disease who cannot compare past and present; he can just look at pictures of joyful moments with his wife.

THE SILVER LINING

Yet there frequently seems to be a silver lining:

• Suze finds her fateful scans at the beginning "beautiful".
• Persons with various issues (auto-immune disease, burnout, blindness, Alzheimer) manage to unite and succeed.
• The ending is at the same time happy (Clara & Adrien) and tragic (Suze & Jean-Baptiste).
• Teenagers are having fun dancing on "Mala vida" (bad life) before Suze gets pregnant. This electric scene also closes the movie.

Humour is omnipresent; there are many slapstick moments to alleviate tension, down to details (for instance when Jean-Baptiste goes away from the overturned car, the policeman inside tries to grab his leg). The view on people is overall positive; most issues are emerging from organisations: companies, administration, police.

Action successfully unravels from beginning to end without heaviness or slack. There are witty references.

• In the flashback where teenage Suze dances with her lover, the lyrics fit the situation: "You are giving me a bad life" ("Tu me estás dando mala vida") since he will make her pregnant... although reversed since the song is addressed from a man to his girlfriend.
• When the gang is trying to decipher the doctor's diary with his wife, there are madeleines on the table: a reference to the Proustian madeleine since they are exploring his past, twenty-eight years back.
• There are nods to Brazil (1985), a dystopian classic: the short yet notable presence of director Terry Gilliam in the advertising, some names (Kurtzman, Lint, Tuttle), situations (e.g. tubes hanging from the ceiling), scenery (e.g. the archives).

However some parts are not fully convincing, notably towards the end.

• The story between Clara and Adrien is shallow: the movie could have previously expanded upon their characters to increase the emotional impact of the meeting in the elevator, which is too easily handled anyhow.
• There could have been a moving reunion of mother and son, but that would have required subtlety that, to be honest, is mostly missing from Dupontel's work since the main driver is energy.
• The final scene with Suze and Jean-Baptiste is too exaggerated to be conclusive.

Nevertheless, "Adieu les cons" is altogether peculiar, funny, partly sad and relatively profound.

Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood (2019)

The Emperor has no clothes

[4/10 · 2 June 2020]

Once upon a time in Hollywood, there was a famed Director-Emperor who mainly based his movies on violence. Sometimes he combined it with a pinch of humour ("Pulp Fiction", "Django Unchained"). He carefully selected his soundtracks; maybe he should have become a D.J... As for substance, there was none.

Rhythm and editing looked masterly, yet chiefly relied on violence. Nonlinear plots were praised, even though they were no innovation by far. Spirit seemed offbeat, whilst actually violence had become mainstream since long (Peckinpah, De Palma, Scorsese, John Woo, spaghetti westerns, etc.). Depiction of violence was deemed entertaining, however it was complacent and morally dubious. Style looked cool, but resembled video-clips'. Overall, if his movies were no better or worse than many Hollywood action pictures, they rapidly became cult, demonstrating that haemoglobin and flashy style always are easy pleasers.

Despite his box-office hits, our Director was sometimes melancholic. He longed to prove he was an accomplished director not limited to a genre; he wanted to do something different, a movie without much bloodshed: yes, a real opus with content and not just form. He could do it! So he directed "Jackie Brown" in 1997, and fans realised the Emperor had no clothes: without violence, it had nothing to show. Hence he afterwards reverted to the same good old gorish style.

The vision of content still lingered in his mind, though. Time was getting short: he had promised he would only direct ten movies in his career. According to his own account, he directed eight before 2019 (more by other accounts, but we would not want to be deprived of additional masterpieces, would we?). Hence the next one, his ninth, had to be the good one! (He could afterwards crown his career with what he could do best, an apotheosis of unrestrained brutality.) He had a plan; he would not make the same mistake as for "Jackie Brown", where setting was contemporary: he would direct a period movie, depicting the past and actual persons to miraculously generate content. So he directed "Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood". And the Emperor was naked again.

• There is no rhythm, since there is practically no violence to support it. The movie drags on and on for 2h40. Scenes are uselessly long: Sharon watches the film she plays in; Cliff goes to Spahn Ranch; Rick plays in "Lancer" series. The latter does not show anything about directing; it is not interesting; it is barely parodic; it is not funny. Even some short scenes make no sense, for instance Rick and his wife unboarding the plane: what is the point of the slow motion? If the movie were cut down by a full hour, it would not be radically different. By contrast, the most memorable part is the carnage at the end, reviving Tarantino's good old style with energy and macabre farce. Spot on.

• There is no consistent story, rather a succession of scenes. It would be fine if there were some substance, but there is none, as opposed to good pictures about Hollywood as we will see.

• Despite the title, there is no insight about Hollywood, as opposed to Sunset Blvd. (1950) or The Player (1992) or Trumbo (2015). Location and era are just a background, a pretext to make a period movie. Granted, there are references to Hollywood pictures, including Tarantino's, but without much purpose.

• There is no historical accuracy since the so-called "Manson family" is depicted as a bunch of pathetic amateurs failing their mission, instead of dangerous killers. What is the point of a ludicrous ending instead of showing compassion for five actual victims (of which an eight-month pregnant woman)? Actually, Tarantino is not interested by history, as show "Inglourious Basterds" and "Django Unchained" which deform grave events (WWII, slavery): at best, they would be uchronias. Some call it artistic licence, I call it lack of respect.

• There is no character depth, as opposed to The Bad and the Beautiful (1952) or The Big Knife (1955) or The Last Tycoon (1976). Rick feels his career is behind him and... well, that's it. We don't know anything else about him, nor do we about all other characters. Many are based on actual persons, but we learn very little about their life.

• There is little humour, as opposed to The Artist (2011) or Hail, Caesar! (2016). Some dialogues are funny, but spread over such a long time, they represent an average of one every half hour.

• There is a stretched racist scene whereby a stupid arrogant Asian (Bruce Lee) makes a fool out of himself and then is ridiculed by a smart strong white man (Cliff). It is aggravated by the fact Mike Moh is the only non-white actor of the plethoric cast, which already says something about the movie (for info: there were ethnic minorities in 1969 USA). Tarantino is not racist, but the scene, intentionally or not, certainly is; anyone who does not believe so is probably not Asian. A typical mistake from a director who does not really think about the potential impact of his work. As a side note, if Cliff is just a stuntman, he does not stand the slightest chance against Bruce Lee; he might be a martial arts expert, but since we don't know anything about him, we cannot tell.

So "Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood" slowly flows by. It is not terrible, just mediocre: without violence, nothing stands out. Interestingly, it not only exposes its own downsides, but by contrast Tarantino's other movies' main deficiency: over-reliance on easy violence as a fig leaf for lack of substance.

I don't have an issue with action pictures, as long as they are technically and ethically decent (which to be fair Tarantino's partly are), and are not taken for more than what they stand for: entertainment. But I have trouble understanding why Tarantino should be praised more than other directors of the genre. And I do have an issue with unnecessary, complacent and dubious depiction of brutality. Fortunately "Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood" is Tarantino's ninth movie: one more and he will be relieved from his promise. As will we.

PS: Apologies to Tarantino fans for this firm review, even though I refrained from expanding upon Tarantino's decades-long passivity in the Weinstein affair.

Pandora and the Flying Dutchman (1951)

A modern myth

[10/10 · 23 April 2020]

"Pandora" is Albert Lewin's masterpiece and represents more than a romance: it is a tale about time and love, elevated to mythical levels.

A TALE...

• The movie mostly consists of a narrative (by Geoffrey), which is the mark of tales ("Once upon a time"). It doubles this process with another narrative (by Hendrick). The primary plot even introduces an apparently unnecessary distance: "Twenty years ago." It blends Northern legend (The Flying Dutchman) and Greek mythology (Pandora).
• Time seems still: the six months between March 9 and September 3 feel like a few days, as pointed out by Pandora. At the beginning, Hendrick turns the hourglass; at the end he turns it again: he suspends time and finally restores its course.
• The setting is postcard Spain: it is always sunny (except at the end during the purposeful storm), we see flamenco, corrida, la taverna, la mama, etc. Nobody really works, there are just hobbies. Characters are stereotypes: the arrogant toreador, the rich dandy, the desperate lover, the silly girl, etc. The only exceptions are Pandora, Hendrick and Geoffrey, as we will see.

... YET A MODERN TALE

In a classic tale, if content is fantasy, style is generally realistic or even old-fashioned. Here the style is abstract: the movie is more modern than it first seems. This has disconcerted many critics who underrated the picture when it was released, and sometimes still do.

• Situations are abstract. The former 17th century ship turns into a modern sailboat without explanation. Pandora easily swims to Hendrick's boat which is far away. The bull completely ravages Matalvo, but when the latter is carried away, he does not bleed and his clothes are intact. Statues and ruins of various formats fill the beach. The sets sometimes look fake. Dialogs are frequently plain. The frame is loaded with symbols: the hourglass, writing, painting, artefacts, statues, myths, Stephen's and Matalvo's activities, etc. (more about all this below).
• Some scenes are unbelievable: a corrida by night for an audience of three; a prototype on fire racing at 400km/h; a frenetic dance on the beach; a storm out of nowhere. Incidentally, these scenes are visually impressive.
• The movie is very stylised, shot like a painting: colours are harmonious; there are many close shots of stiff and silent persons, as for portraits; some scenes precisely look like paintings, either classical (e.g. the convent where Matalvo lies), either abstract (e.g. the courtroom). Two paintings are prominent: Pandora's portrait by Hendrick, Hendrick's wife's 17th century portrait (which actually is a photograph, highlighting the blend between film and painting).
• There is an emphasis on modern objects, contrasting with Geoffrey's ancient artefacts: Pandora's portrait inspired by De Chirico and Paul Delvaux, the fast-racing prototype, the chess set designed by Man Ray.

TIME

Pandora, Hendrick and Geoffrey represent culture: they are heirs of past knowledge. Pandora sings and plays the piano (notably Chopin). Hendrick writes his memoirs, paints, recites poetry ("Dover Beach" by Matthew Arnold), reads poetry ("Rubaiyat" by Omar Khayyam from 11-12th century Persia), tells about Greek mythology. Geoffrey unearths and repairs ancient artefacts, reads, translates Dutch, plays chess, tells about The Flying Dutchman. The diversity of arts, periods and countries is significant.

The two poems are representative of the movie: "Dover Beach" talks about love amongst adversity ("... Where ignorant armies clash by night"); the "Rubaiyat" quatrain emphasises the prominence of poetry ("The moving finger writes..."). Indeed, writing is paramount: there are different books and quotes throughout the movie; Hendrick's manuscript is key to the plot.

The three main characters never get angry, even when Pandora is slapped by Janet and Hendrick is stabbed by Matalvo. They distantly observe others' petty lives, like the statues on the beach seem contemptuous of the crowd. Indeed, other characters are shallow. They get drunk, laugh for no reason, shout, argue, fight. They are not interested in culture: they party while Geoffrey works; they dance Charleston amidst ancient statues; Matalvo tears Stephen's magazine. The only poet, Reggie, commits suicide.

They do not perform a single constructive action: Stephen just aims to drive fast; Matalvo kills bulls (as well as Pandora's dog). These two activities rely on fast pace: every tenth of a second counts. By contrast, Hendrick's pace is slow, he has all the time in the world, literally. Fast and shallow modernity conflicts with past culture, which can only be assimilated slowly.

LOVE

The alchemy between Ava Gardner and James Mason is perfect, both actors displaying similar combinations of mystery and sensuality. Additionally, Pandora, Hendrick and Geoffrey evolve throughout the movie, as opposed to other persons:

• Pandora is at the beginning destructive: she provokes Reggie's death and does not care about it; she asks Stephen to destroy his car; she ruins Hendrick's painting. She does not fit in this world. However after discovering love with Hendrick, she becomes caring.
• Hendrick is at the beginning a sombre person, just longing to find a woman willing to sacrifice herself. However when he realises he deeply loves Pandora, he rejects her to save her life.
• Geoffrey is moved by the romance between the two lovers. He says at different points he has a sense of fatality.

These characters are elevated to mythological level. It is not incompatible with the above-mentioned changes, since Gods are generally ambiguous.

• Pandora is sometimes compared to a Goddess (in Greek mythology her homonym was created by Gods). Men go mad for her, as under a spell. She undresses twice to swim to Hendrick's boat, resembling the nude statues on the beach. Most of the time she dresses with drapery like ancient statues; she even puts her shawl around one of these.
• Hendrick has Godly powers. He is immortal (even though it is a curse), commands his ship, suspends time (see above note regarding the hourglass), regularly emerges from the sea like Poseidon (his last name means "From the sea" in Dutch).
• Geoffrey is the narrator and go-between of these two Gods. He lives in an elevated castle. He owns Hendrick's manuscript, translates it and gives it to Pandora, which triggers their final reunion. He also reunites them symbolically: at the beginning of the movie, he is mending a vase; at the end, he reconstitutes it completely. He links past (the manuscript, archaeology) and present (the lovers): when past and present merge at the end, the tale is told.

Hence two doomed Gods (Pandora and Hendrick) find salvation through love. The bard (Geoffrey) immortalises their legend, since culture lives on through ages. We are the privileged witnesses of their tale, above the agitated crowd seduced by fake modernity. As all myths, it is altogether specific and universal: it also is partly our story.

Maurice (1987)

How does one discover and embrace one's identity?

[8/10 · 28 January 2020]

"Maurice" is arguably James Ivory's masterpiece, better than his most famous movies such as "A Room with a View", "Howards End" or "The Remains of the Day". It was long underrated probably because the original novel was considered as a minor opus in E. M. Forster's biography, published posthumously decades after his other works. It is more than a movie about homosexuality and coming-of-age (Bildungsfilm, of sorts): it is a touching introspection supported by strong aesthetical themes.

WATER

Water is associated to gay love.

• It opens and closes the movie. At the beginning, the young Maurice and Ducie walk on the seashore. As the latter puts it, it is a very important period for the boy, when body and mind undergo permanent and radical changes. Ducie sketches explicit "heterosexual" drawings on the sand... and the tide wipes them out: metaphorically, it eradicates Maurice's potential heterosexual desires.
• Many years later, Maurice is still a virgin. In Penderleigh when heavy rain pours, he opens his window and leans outside to get drenched, which has a double effect: directly, the image seduces Alec; symbolically, it unleashes Maurice's desires. That night, they make love for the first time.
• In London, Maurice and Alec walk together during another heavy rain, under an umbrella: they will make love in a hotel.
• When Maurice goes to bid farewell to Alec on the boat sailing to Argentina, the latter is not there, indicating to Maurice he is staying in England with him. Their parting could not have happened on sea: water prevents them from being separated.
• At the very end, they spend the night in the boathouse situated on the pond. It is the last time we see them together, implying their future is still placed under the sign of water.

BEYOND WORDS

Introspection is a key element. Clive goes to Greece, allegedly the root of Western civilisation, to find his own roots. (As a side note, the scene was actually shot in Segesta, Sicily.) He is alone there; there is not a single tourist; he is facing himself and his homosexuality, as hinted by a previous scene about ancient "Greek manners". However, frightened by the Risley affair, he rejects his gay part. On the contrary, Maurice progressively assumes his identity. (As a side note, there seems to be a parallel between Clive's trip to Greece and Maurice's visits to the antique department of the British Museum, but the latter is the Assyrian section.) There is something unspeakable about his experience since he lives his desires instead of articulating them like Clive does.

In Cambridge, the Dean asks the student to skip the reading about the "UNSPEAKABLE Greek manners" (i.e. homosexuality: the word is not uttered). Later on, Maurice twice goes to the hypnotist, yet nothing is expressed: the first time was a trial, the second a failure. Doctor Barry twice says to Maurice "I don't want to talk to you" precisely at key moments of Maurice's life: when he is expelled from Cambridge and when he comes out to him. Again, his experience is beyond wording.

Also, there seems to be telepathic energy flowing between the lovers Maurice and Alec.

• They play cricket very well together just by looking at each other and not talking. When Clive replaces Alec, he messes up, talks and they lose the game.
• Later on, Alec comes to Maurice's room uninvited because he knows without speaking to him that he will be accepted. Afterwards, Maurice tells him it was a bold move.
• The hypnotist burns Alec's letter to Maurice: words are misleading, a source of misunderstanding since Maurice thought Alec was blackmailing him.
• When in the Museum Ducie asks Maurice's name which he has forgotten, he answers "Scudder" (Alec, who is next to him), signifying they are fully in communion.
• At the end, Alec sends a telegram for Maurice to meet him in the boathouse; without even receiving the telegram, Maurice goes there.

IDENTITY

Clive asserts love between men must remain platonic, while Maurice longs for everything including physical contact. Nonetheless there can be no doubt about Clive's identity since he very much resembles Maurice:

• We never see his father (Maurice's is dead).
• He has no brother, just a sister (Maurice has two).
• He eventually grows a moustache like Maurice.
• As a boy, he locked his sister in the pavilion for a whole day, removing a female symbol from his sight (this removal happened for Maurice during the above-mentioned seaside scene).

Clive is just trying to protect himself after Risley is arrested. He resists his own desires: while Maurice accepts the rain to get soaked, water leaks through Penderleigh's ceiling but is eliminated in a bucket; the above-mentioned gay symbol does not invade Clive's home. At the very end, Clive methodically closes all his bedroom shutters: he blocks his aspirations outside.

The last scene is compelling, showing him looking down outside: he remembers Maurice calling to him in Cambridge, looking up as if he were really addressing Clive situated on the first floor. The flashback is all the more impressive since it is the only one in the movie. It summarises the relationship between the two characters: Maurice longing in vain for Clive and eventually going away. But is it actually a flashback? We never saw Maurice calling out like this. In fact Clive remembers an event undisclosed in the movie, or imagines it: either way, with this new insight we intimately visualise how remorseful he is; we are close to him as ever precisely when he shuts himself up in his safe castle. He deeply regrets the period in Cambridge when he could have chosen a different path. We then wonder who the victim is: Maurice taking considerable risks by living with Alec, or Clive sacrificing his true self. It is the main question of the movie: how does one explore and assume one's identity?

FATE

Maurice's father is dead. He has no brother, just two sisters. He is expelled from Cambridge by the Dean, a fatherly figure. He is twice rejected by Dr Barry, another fatherly figure. He rejects religion and hence God, yet another fatherly figure. He is rejected by Clive. This masculine void will be reversed by his relationship with Alec.

At the beginning, Ducie tells Maurice they will meet in ten years, both with their respective wives. They do meet again in the Museum, after approximately ten years. Yes, Ducie is with his wife... however Maurice is with Alec: the prophecy has been fulfilled, in a way.

Everything that could oppose Maurice's aspirations fails:

• Dr Barry refuses to talk to him instead of helping him getting rid of his gay tendencies.
• His treatment with the hypnotists fails.
• Clive misses the cricket game, hence Maurice and Alec are paired together
• Alec does not sail to Argentina despite insisting he will.
• Even the elements (rain) favour their relationship.

CONCLUSION

"Maurice" is delicate throughout, supported by splendid cinematography. Look for instance at the stunning shot after Risley is sentenced: with a sharp camera movement and a vertical high-angle view, we see him walk down narrow stairs from which emerges an intense yellow light. This is reminiscent of two previous lines from Clive: "It was hell" about his holidays and "It's hell" about his relationship with Maurice.

The limit of the movie is that it does not fully show the repressive context of the period: we only witness Risley's downfall; the happy ending between the lovers is not obscured by clouds. Also, social inequalities and oppositions are evoked yet not fully addressed. The reason is the movie deals more about personal choices than social context, as did the original novel largely based on autobiographical elements. As such, it is almost timeless.

Echo (2019)

Sweet-and-sour Christmas gift from the North

[9/10 · 15 January 2020]

"Echo" belongs to two rare genres: vignette movies and non-narrative cinema. Non-narrative, to an extent, since there is no overarching story, no hero (a character never appears twice), no real beginning and no real ending, although this needs to be nuanced as we will see. Also, if some vignettes depict a small story, some of them do not and most of them are in between (does an action, e.g. a phonecall, without beginning and/or ending represent a story?). With 56 different vignettes, how does the movie ensure consistency throughout? And with such short vignettes (on average a minute and a half), how does it deliver content? We'll answer the two questions jointly, since they are partly related.

1. SEASON. Scenes occur at year-end, from the period before Christmas to the beginning of the following year. There is a clear linear progression hinted by Christmas rituals (buying gifts, buying a tree, Christmas eve, Christmas day, offering the gifts, throwing away the tree), then by New Year's Eve rituals (buying fireworks, firing them, celebrating). Some scenes are not dated, they could take place anytime during winter or even the year when occurring inside; however many scenes provide a clear reference.

2. STYLE. All shots are completely static, generally with large frames. There never is off-screen music, except at the very beginning and very end. There sometimes are two actions in the frame (foreground/background or left/right), which have distinct meanings, enhancing the content of the scene. Overall, it feels like a documentary despite being a fiction: we are immediately immersed in the scene without any foreknowledge; yet thanks to the director's talent we understand the context.

3. TONE. Some scenes are humorous, some are bitter, some are both, these being the most remarkable. A few examples of the latter kind: a nice girl wants to please her father by playing a piano piece... but the daughter of his new partner shows her she plays better. A man is alone on Christmas eve; he opens a bottle of wine just for himself and microwaves dinner... yet seems to have a good time by sending and receiving pictures. A man is having a tough business conversation on the phone... while his two children are having fun in the background. Two men bitterly argue about politics when watching the Prime Minister's speech; we see their body, not their faces... and when an exasperated man leaves, we see he is wearing a party hat!

4. THEMES. Some are recurring during the whole movie. One of the most obvious is how smartphones invade our lives: countless scenes where people talk on the phone, take pictures or films, send or receive them, post them on social networks, chat, etc. It becomes most ridiculous during the children's play, as parents are more focused on filming than watching the show. Eventually in the front row two parents stand up, blocking the view and forcing parents behind to stand up as well! Another ludicrous example: a woman who thinks she is being insulted by a man films the scene to post it live on Facebook.

More deeply, the movie makes us think about the special period of Christmas and year-end, as well as related topics: family, partners, friends, celebration, time off. It is supposed to represent a time of gathering, sharing and happiness, yet is only partly so: we also witness loneliness, conflicts, inequalities, death. Other themes creep in to remind us that behind the celebration, life goes on as usual: ageing, work, health care, emergencies, refugees, etc. Hence apart from a few landscapes, it is not strictly speaking a movie about Iceland but about our societies in general: it could almost have been shot in any developed country (this said for potential viewers expecting to see Icelandic specifics, which are limited).

5. CORRESPONDENCES. Apart from the season, scenes seem unrelated; however the movie sometimes introduces subtle correspondences. Two refugees are harshly expelled from a church; later on, a priest delivers a sermon of compassion notably towards refugees. A son, his mother and his grandmother visit the tomb of the grandfather; later on, a girl visits her grandfather in an institution and says: "We went on grandmother's tomb today." A young girl fought with a boy who was bullying her (or worse); later on, an adult woman apologises to another one for bullying her with her friends when they were in school. Elderly watch the Prime Minister's speech on TV; this speech is continued during the following scene. A family buys a Christmas tree; later on, a man throws a Christmas tree on a huge pile of wood and other trees; later on, this stack burns. Still later, after New Year, garbage bins are removed which is reminiscent of throwing away the tree.

6. CONTRASTS. While correspondences can link separated scenes, consecutive scenes sometime display striking contrasts. The best sequence is probably constituted by the three following scenes:

• A dependant drug-addict is helped by two health-carers. He has nobody to talk to, so the two women propose to call him on Christmas day; they are very friendly and offer him a Christmas gift. This scene is intense: sad because of the addict's situation yet gentle thanks to the conversation.
• Children perform a Christmas play. The ambiance is radically different: people are gathered; children apparently enjoy performing and their parents watching (or, rather, filming); it is funny and somewhat ridiculous (the sheep, Santa Claus with a Coke arriving after the Three Wise Men).
• Female bodybuilders are exhibited on stage. Again a radical change, highlighted by the fact the scene is shot from the back of the stage while the previous scene was shot from the audience. The children's play was a joyful mess; this show is a vulgar stiff parade ("Turn right!").

The movie ends with another compelling sequence:

• Just after New Year, a baby is born. The scene is also intense since the woman is actually giving birth, a very rare occurrence in fiction. It provides optimism to this sometimes bitter movie: despite harsh situations, conflicts and ageing elderly, life moves on.
• A road sign saying "15 persons were killed on the road this year" is changed to "No persons were killed on the road this year", which is doubly ironic: we visualise death after life; the post is obvious and not comforting since it is the beginning of the year.
• Garbage collectors remove an impressive amount of large bins from just one building. Again doubly ironic: this trivial scene contrasts with the two previous ones; people had a nice time (of sorts) during Christmas and New Year, they now need to clean up and resume their "normal" lives.

These last three scenes perfectly close the movie because they at the same time refer to the previous period and announce a new period. Then comes the last shot from a boat sailing on a rough sea, while beautiful off-screen music plays for the first time, enhancing our emotions before we too resume our normal lives.

In summary, "Echo" is a peculiar and thoughtful movie. It displays some brilliant vignettes, which is remarkable enough considering their brevity, and binds all of them together in a social depiction full of acuteness, humour, joy, sorrow and thought-provoking situations. To be honest, not all vignettes are convincing, but many really are and even those that are less so fit in the overall insight.

Zorba the Greek (1964)

Partly successful adaptation of a major novel

[7/10 · 7 November 2019]

"Zorba the Greek" is not only Michael Cacoyannis' best known work by far, it probably is the most famous Greek movie ever, even more than any of Theo Angelopoulos' films (arguably the most prominent Greek director, considering that Costa-Gavras mainly directed "international" pictures).

It is based on Nikos Kazantzakis' masterpiece. Despite the immense reputation of both the novel and its author, the movie is even more renowned than the book, thanks to the Greek folklore it exhibits, Mikis Theodorakis' alluring soundtrack and Anthony Quinn's performance. Just have a look how many Greek restaurants are called "Zorba" in any part of the world...

A POSTCARD GREECE?

The title of the original novel is "Life and Times of Alexis Zorbas". The movie's title insists on the "Greek" aspect of the main character and hence his environment. Does it mean it constitutes a postcard view of Greece, as it is sometimes considered? To some extent, it appears full of clichés: sun, sea, beach, white village, typical costumes, music, dance, traditions. The place looks like a paradise:

• It is almost always sunny while on the continent at the beginning it is raining.
• Villagers are welcoming to Zorba and Basil.
• We rarely see anything from the outside world, even from the rest of Crete.
• Nobody worries about having food or shelter.
• The final fiasco of the mine opening is taken lightly. It ends with Zorba and Basil dancing Sirtaki on the beach, a traditional Greek dance that was adapted for the movie. By comparison, the novel's story continues after that scene, with a bitter tone: the narrator's closest friend (Stavridakis) dies; the narrator goes away; after a few years he loses contact with Zorba; the latter eventually dies; he bequeaths his cherished instrument (the santuri) to the narrator. In the movie, Basil says he will leave but we do not see it.

Insisting on Greek folklore is a deliberate choice since it is only partly present in the novel, and then with greater distance. It is somewhat intended to seduce international audiences: most dialogues are in English (because Basil is an Englishman) whilst in the novel they naturally are in Greek; the four main actors are celebrities and three of them (excluding Irene Papas) are not Greek.

However this seducing aspect is only apparent: the movie also adopts the pessimistic view of the novel, written in the midst of World War II and published in 1946. Beneath the surface, the cruelty of human condition and mankind is revealed.

• The villagers are poor.
• The village idiot is a sad figure.
• The young boy commits suicide.
• The widow is savagely murdered.
• Madame Hortense's mourners are hypocrites. Her house is looted just after she dies.
• Zorba's comments about people are bleak.
• Even children are heartless.

Cinematography, with its sharp black and white, illustrates this two-sided vision (easy-going impression versus harsh reality): the bright landscapes and village intensely contrasts with dark costumes and shadows. The effect is striking after the grey tones of the beginning on the continent. Also, in opposition to frequent plain views, some shots emphasise oppression: for instance image is saturated with people when the widow is lapidated.

REDUCED DEPTH

Nonetheless, despite its ambition, the movie lacks the novel's philosophical depth. There are many penetrating thoughts in the book, about life, death, soul, love, mankind, religion, history, art, etc. The narrator articulates them intellectually; Zorba voices them in a basic yet astute way. This generates another dimension: the narrator's transformation. The latter is smart, but Zorba understands more about life than he does: he is close to people, nature, beauty; he teaches him to be in contact with his emotions instead of with his brain, to enjoy life, to give everything he has got. There is an "external" Zorba, simple and lively, and an "internal" Zorba with a compelling insight: he is a witty fool while the narrator is a foolish wit, as Shakespeare would have said. The narrator, who is intellectually trying to find the path of the Buddha, emotionally finds it by his experience with Zorba. Eventually, after finishing his book about Buddha, he logically writes Zorba's biography.

All of this is mostly missing in the movie. Granted, it is not easy to transcribe ideas on screen: a constant voice over would be tedious after a while. However thoughtful dialogues are limited; we do not see Basil's transformation; Zorba remains simple without much depth. Concerning the last point, the responsibility is partly the director's, partly Antony Quinn's who overacts the exuberant side of his role. With limited interesting lines, he still could have shown the "internal" Zorba, by being for instance more mysterious and meditative, instead of fully tilting towards the "external" Zorba. Quinn's performance is generally deemed outstanding, yet it is only so regarding one part of his character: he seems to miss the full potential of the role and its link with the overall far-reaching message. Lila Kerdova's performance as Madame Hortense, for instance, is more to the point.

Finally, there is some humour in the movie, but not to the extent of the novel where wit frequently mixes with the above-mentioned philosophy. In summary, if "Zorba the Greek" is not as penetrating as the novel, it goes deeper than a postcard view of Greece and remains a valuable piece of art, full of contrasts: white and black, exuberant and intriguing, amusing and tragic.

Lolita (1962)

Morally dubious and superficial: Kubrick's worst movie?

[5/10 · 11 October 2019]

A great novel from one of the greatest 20th century authors adapted by one of the greatest directors... must produce a great movie, right? Wrong.

THE NOVEL

First, let us not undervalue the novel, a reference in world literature: for instance, it is included in the Norwegian Book Club's famous list of the 100 best books of all time and in Nobel laureate Vargas Llosa's selective list of his 9 favourite novels. Amongst many qualities, it is a moral opus on humanity and monstrosity: Humbert is a paedophile, yet he is also intelligent, seducing and pathetic. We understand and pity him, to an extent, regarding his shattered childhood love for Annabel, his mother's early death, his divorce, his stays in psychiatric hospitals, etc. On this perilous path, Nabokov treads carefully by avoiding two opposite pitfalls: depicting Humbert as a complete monster, which would be of limited interest; finding excuses for his behaviour, which could represent a justification for any crime. Hence everything in the novel is put into perspective: Humbert's mental illness, his thoughts about this, his intelligence, his humour and, most of all, his narration.

Indeed, Nabokov remarkably handles first-person narration: we slowly realise Humbert is unreliable, not about actual facts (we could not say if they are accurate or not, since he is the only narrator), but their interpretation. For instance, he depicts Lolita mostly as greedy, vulgar, selfish, insensitive, cheating... but we progressively realise it is largely inaccurate. Hence we question narration itself, down to its style: it is very articulate and humorous, but too much so. Isn't Humbert fooling us, as well as himself, with his neat "Confession" about his otherwise despicable self?

THE MOVIE

Kubrick makes two unfortunate major artistic decisions.

1. The movie barely criticises humbert. Granted, it is not easy to represent unreliable narration on screen, but Kubrick does worse: he adopts Humbert's point of view. Lolita is just a little brat, Charlotte a brainless dragon, Quilty a devilish manipulator. Notably, essential elements about Lolita are omitted or downsized:

• She feels miserable only once, when she learns about her mother's death, but it is short. In the novel it lasts longer and there are other depictions of her despair.
• We do not see how sincerely she loves her disabled husband at the end.
• The tennis coach's important comment saying Lolita is talented but loses because she is "so polite", is discarded.
• The fact everybody calls Dolores "Lolita", while in the book only Humbert does so, is revealing: his perception of Dolores as a nymphet invades the whole story.

Hence characters are not only shallow: they fit Humbert's vision.

Humbert himself is rarely shown committing fiendish acts, as opposed to the novel:

• Lolita seduces him in the hotel whilst in the book it is less clear.
• There are no other innuendos about their sexuality.
• There is no account about Humbert's plans to rape her whilst in the book he tries twice, by giving sedatives to Charlotte and then Lolita.
• He does not blackmail her.
• There is no indication about his attraction to other young girls, so he almost appears as a person truly in love instead of a paedophile.
• He just considers shooting Charlotte but quickly dismisses the idea whilst in the book he comes very close to drowning her.
• After Charlotte dies he gets drunk whilst in the book he gloats with joy.
• Eventually he is not arrested, as if the director's verdict were "not guilty".

Granted, there are naturally other omissions, yet the above-mentioned constitute important choices because they exonerate Humbert. Also some alterations, notably concerning sexuality, might have been necessary because of censorship; but then, is it excusable to film such dynamite without the full possibility to do it ethically?

Apart from omissions, the original story is marginally modified in other ways: Quilty's role is expanded and minor differences are introduced (e.g. Lolita is a 14 year-old blonde instead of a 12 year-old brunette). However these changes have no effect on the movie's ethical ambiguities. Critic Greg Jenkins said: "A story originally told from the edge of a moral abyss is fast moving toward safer ground." As a direct consequence, the movie lacks depth. Indirectly, instead of being scrutinised, monstrosity becomes unchallenged, almost acceptable.

2. The movie mainly focuses on action. Kubrick could have gone down a morally perilous path by compensating with other qualities, for instance dark humour or strong themes. However there is little more than a simple account of events without perspective.

• Artistic direction is plain. The only scene worth mentioning is when Humbert kills Quilty, which is grotesque enough but far from the novel's level.
• Social satire is limited. Mental illness is not investigated.
• The US road trip remains abstract: we see little of the 50,000 km the main characters travel, probably because most was actually shot in England.
• The few humorous elements are only partly convincing: ironic music is sometimes added; Quilty's character is expanded and provides somewhat funny but unnecessary scenes; humorous lines extracted from the novel lack impact.
• The multiple sarcastic remarks, wordplays, witty literary references and the intriguing puzzle to find Quilty are mostly discarded.
• The tragic dimension is absent, for instance Lolita's above-mentioned despair or the eventual deaths of Lolita, her baby and Humbert (disregarding Quilty's ludicrous death): the atmosphere remains very tame, without asperities.

All this emphasises the moral issues mentioned in point 1, since they are not offset by interesting features.

What can be saved in the movie? Acting is excellent, notably James Mason in the lead role and Peter Sellers in three impersonations: himself, a policeman, Dr Zempf (this incidentally inspired the idea to have him play different characters in "Dr Strangelove" two years later). Action unravels seamlessly, despite the fact the last scene where Humbert kills Quilty is placed at the beginning for no valid reason (in the book it is towards the end since narration is strictly chronological). It is sometimes comical. If it can console Kubrick's fans, "Lolita" is arguably his only failure ("Spartacus" being debatable).

Downton Abbey (2019)

Good series = Good movie? No.

[4/10 · 1 October 2019]

With scores of millions of fans worldwide, "Downton Abbey" series (2010-2015) is already a classic. Why not produce a movie? The issue is we are more exigent when going to the theatre than when watching TV at home, and rightfully so.

At home, we do not move, we do not pay, we watch a relatively small screen with lights on, we talk with our partner, we search for information on a tablet, we look at our mobile, etc. In short, we are not very attentive. And we unconsciously compare the series with others that roughly have the same downsides, regardless of potential qualities: action is sometimes repetitive since it runs for hours; a few events are far-fetched to maintain attention on the long term; characters are frequently two-dimensional; plot and style trigger easy emotions.

When going to the movie theatre, we need to move, we need to pay, we watch a large screen in the dark, we are attentive, we expect to get our time's and money's worth. And we unconsciously compare the film with others that can be quite elaborate. To summarise, series are mostly about entertainment whilst movies are more about art.

In this context, "Downton Abbey" movie feels like Episode 7.1 of the series, happening in 1927 hence just slightly more than one year after the end of Season 6, instead of a full-scale picture. It delivers absolutely nothing new.

• There are significant plot holes. How can the Royal Butler (sorry: Page of the Backstairs) and Chef be sequestrated a whole night without consequences? And the entire Royal Staff lured away without investigation? Which mother would keep her own child as a servant for years without telling her the truth, and then continue doing so? Which determined killer would blunder away his scheme to a complete stranger just because he is Irish? Why doesn't Tom warn the police instead of risking the King's live in a ridiculous rescue? How can Andy destroy the boiler and hence ruin the house's reputation just out of misplaced jealousy? How can the Royal dressmaker steal so frequently without ever triggering suspicion? What evidence does Anna display to confound her? None, so blackmailing her makes no sense.

• There is nothing new about the usual characters. Everybody is sympathetic as always and reacts as expected: it is like seeing old friends. Of course, there are a few new characters but apart from Lady Bagshaw (played by the great Idelma Staunton), none is interesting. Some are a pure caricature, for instance the harsh Lascelles.

• Situations and emotions are shallow. The relationship between Daisy and Andy is laughable: "You destroyed the boiler... then I love you!" The love between Lucy and Tom develops too quickly and superficially, only consisting of a few puerile dialogues, cheap smiles and silly gazes. The bickering between Downton servants and Royal servants is overacted, notably Elsie with the Dresser. The "drama" of Edith potentially giving birth while her husband would be away takes gigantic proportions before deflating in a snap. The message from Tom to Princess Mary is utterly futile ("Try your best to make it work"), yet the Princess is moved and follows his advice by trying to convince her stiff husband during the final dance, of all moments. The King's compliment to Tom that he has "more than one thing to thank him for" is supposed to impress, but does not. Generally speaking, many dialogues and gazes are too conspicuous. The announcement of Violet's fatal illness vainly tries to compensate for the overall merry-go-round.

• As the series, the movie mostly shows early 20th century as good old times and aristocracy as a benevolent power. Servants seem to have a relatively enjoyable life. We do not see poverty, inequalities, hardship, even in the village. There is just one comment from the Royal dressmaker about inequalities, but the character is so unfriendly that it is meant to be rejected as indecent. We do see homosexuality repressed, but Thomas escapes unharmed. What happens to the other gay persons arrested? We will never know, they do not seem to matter. We are in an enchanted bubble. Oh no, actually aristocrats do manage to complain about trivial matters, for instance receptions, the poor creatures.

• The love between Lucy and Tom as well as Violet's illness ensure the studio can produce a sequel, conveniently renewing the series concept on large screen. Let's squeeze as much cash as possible out of the franchise.

Let us pause and think for a short while. Reassuring predictability, happy life, friendly main characters, cheap emotions, fake issues, happy ending: it is a fairy tale for children. I must be too old for that. Granted, settings are magnificent, cinematography is lush, there are no lengths, dialogues are sometimes witty notably between Violet and Isobel, some scenes are funny... exactly as in the series. Yet the movie's quality is probably even lower than the series' because of the downsides listed above, condensed in two hours' time. So if you loved the series, feel like seeing exactly the same in a theatre and are not inconvenienced by blatant flaws, you will be delighted. If you wish to see an original and elaborate piece of art, you can pass.

Here I must confess I am not a huge "Downton Abbey" fan. Season 1 was excellent, Season 2 was interesting because of the WWI context... and then it turned around in circles for an extra four long seasons. Yes, it was enjoyable and there were new characters and situations, but it was always similar: secrets, revelations, announcements, loves, weddings, deaths, preparing the dinner, the party, the event, etc. Eventually the series culminated in silliness with final Episode 6.9 ("Christmas special"), drowning in rose-scented perfume, where everybody was nice and happy. Interestingly, the same director is responsible for that Episode and the present movie (as well as three other episodes of the series). In this regard, the movie feels like an appropriate continuation.

Children of Paradise (1945)

Theatre, life, love: contrasts and symmetries

[9/10 · 20 November 2018]

Considered as one of the best French films ever and as a worldwide masterpiece, "Children of Paradise" is a milestone: first French movie released after the liberation of Paris in 1945, it is pivotal between pre- and post-WWII cinema. On the one hand, it pays tribute to silent pictures (there are more than 20 minutes of pantomime) and represents the culmination of 1930s "Poetic Realism": poetic dialogues, archetypal characters, enhanced drama (it just lacks social background). On the other hand, it announces post-WWII modernism: strong thematic structure, mix of styles, reduced action.

The movie is a homage to theatre and pantomime. If the overall connecting thread is the love story between Garance and Baptiste, the main theme is the contrast between theatre and "real" life: to what extent do shows imitate life... or conversely? This thematic axis is reinforced by symmetries between other elements, associated by pairs.

STRUCTURE & STYLE

The movie is divided into two Parts of approximately equal lengths. It opens and closes with a shot on the same street, yet with contrasting moods: joyful at the beginning, sombre at the end.

On the one hand, the style is scenic: acting, dialogues, settings, lighting, music. Notably, all major actors had an important theatrical career beforehand. It seems the action could take place anywhere, anytime since no outside event is evoked, even though in 1830 (around which date the action takes place) a major revolution occurred. We always are on the main street, or inside or near buildings, as in a play (only short exception: the duel between Frederick and the playwright in the countryside).

On the other hand, it is a realistic movie. Baptiste, Frederick and Lacenaire are based on actual 19th century celebrities; even the names are accurate. Montray and Garance are inspired by existing persons. The shows are authentic, although altered. Personalities are complex. For instance, Lacenaire is at the same time a murderer and a poet, without scruples but not without values: after planning to kill Frederick out of jealousy, he becomes found of him because he was generous; hence he murders Montray (and quietly awaits his own execution) to prevent the latter killing Frederick in duel.

CHARACTERS

Characters are opposed by their belonging to the theatrical world or not. Of the two main female roles, Nathalie is an actress while Garance is not (she only plays shortly in Part 1). This contrast is reinforced by their opposite personalities, as well as Garance's changing mood: in Part 1, she is always smiling as she points out herself, but in Part 2 she is sombre, until the very end when she leaves in the carriage. To illustrate this duality, she is first shown looking in a mirror and afterwards frequently uses this device.

The four main male roles are divided into two groups: actors and others. In each of these, antagonisms are accentuated: pantomime (Baptiste) versus spoken theatre (Frederick); crime (Lacenaire) versus aristocracy (Montray). To enhance contrasts further, each of these men love Garance in a different way: idealised (Baptiste), physical (Frederick), intellectual (Lacenaire, character with homosexual innuendos), venal (Montray)... even though all are jealous of the other ones.

EVENTS

Many events are duplicated: once in a theatrical mode, once in real mode, and frequently once in each of the two Parts. Just a few examples:

• Baptiste loses Garance to Frederick; the same happens in a staged pantomime.
• The show "Chand d'Habits"... is directly inspired by Jericho, for which he blames Baptiste's father.
• Frederick reads "Othello" in his bedroom... then plays it on stage.
• Frederick rehearses a cheap play... then massacres it live, both scenes mixing theatre and reality.
• Montray offers Garance a huge bouquet in her dressing room; Frederick, while on stage, offers the same in her theatre box.
• Montray plays with a stage prop chicken and throws it; Frederick eats a real chicken and throws the bones.
• Some dialogues are repeated on and off stage.

THE BIG COMBO

However oppositions are only apparent. In the end, everything blends together: theatre and reality, characters, comedy and tragedy. Revealingly, the two main female characters never meet, except at the very end of each Part. At the end of Part 1, it is in a light mode while at the end of Part 2 it triggers a drama: Baptiste leaves Nathalie for Garance, who goes away.

Similarly, the main male characters are never seen together, they only meet by pairs, except at the end when all four are climatically gathered after the representation of "Othello". It causes a crisis: Lacenaire shows that Garance cheats on Montray and Frederick with Baptiste. Remarkably, this revelation is made through a spectacular mix of theatre and cinema: Lacenaire opens a curtain on Garance and Baptiste kissing (theatre), while the camera dramatically pans to the left (cinema).

This triggers a tragedy: Montray challenges Frederick to a duel, who is willing to die as he realises Garance loves Baptiste; Lacenaire will murder Montray and be executed. All this happens after "Othello", a play about jealousy naturally, but ironically where the main female character (Desdemona) dies: in real life, Garance survives after Montray & Lacenaire die and Baptiste & Frederick are left shattered. Ironically also, these tragic events occur while a frenetic carnival invades the streets. It overflows with white, a characteristic colour that Baptiste, now lost in the crowd, always wears on stage: the above-mentioned blend is also visual.

Even dialogues brilliantly mix theatre and everyday life. Jacques Prévert was an eminent poet and specifically created the lines for the actors he had already selected. This is why dialogues, like in all the movies he participated to, sound so just: as a tailored suit, they perfectly fit the actor's diction and style, which can be quite peculiar like Arletty's. As a result, they feel at the same time poetic and simple, theatrical and real, witty and natural. Many quotes are now part of history.

3 Faces (2018)

Another tour-de-force by banned director

[8/10 · 26 August 2018]

SYMBOLS BEHIND SIMPLICITY

"Three faces" seems realistic but this realism is an illusion: the movie is metaphorical. The form itself looks simple but is finely designed. Just a few examples:

• Nightfall is accelerated, there is complete continuity between day and night.
• The path leading to the old actress Shahrzad's home is lit at night, which is incredible outside this small village but allows to see characters going to and from the house.
• There never is off-screen music (realism), except at the very end, which increases the emotional impact by its uniqueness.

The reason for these choices, amongst others, is to convey continuity in everything we see: situations, characters, emotions (on this, more below).

Regarding content, "Three faces" is structured as a classical tragedy:

• Unity of time: slightly more than 24 hours: two nights and a day.
• Unity of place: a small village, except at the beginning.
• Unity of action: searching for a girl who committed suicide... or not.

Unity of place is especially notable: the village encompasses a whole universe. Granted, at the beginning we are on the road, yet remarkably we never go out of the car: even when actress Jafari or director Panahi walk out of the car, the camera stays inside to follow them. Hence the car is already a transition to another world: we do not see where both characters come from or travel through. There is just one exception: when Panahi fetches water; however then we already are in the village environment. Note how he then symbolically washes his windshield before arriving: we will have an immaculate, unprejudiced view of a new environment, since many shots occur through the windshield.

A REMOTE WORLD

The village is a universe in itself: nobody apart from Jafari and Panahi arrive or leave. We hear cars blowing their horn but, remarkably, we never see them (only exception: the final ironic shot of the trucks carrying cows to be inseminated by a legendary bull... who is dead). It seems we cannot leave the place: a dying bull blocks the unique narrow road; the final shot is completely still on the road as if Panahi's car were not moving out. During this final shot, beautiful off-screen music rises for the first time: the specific environment reaches a universal dimension.

Ever-important events happen in the village: birth (the circumcised son, insemination by the bull), death (the potential suicide, the old lady in her grave), a wedding, philosophical talks about life. All generations are present, notably represented by the three generations of actresses: the young Marziyeh, the famous Jafari, the old Shahrzad. There are mysteries: did Marziyeh really kill herself? Where is she? What will happen to her at the end? Why is her brother so violent, is he insane? Who is Shahrzad? The latter remains mysterious: we will only see her from far away. There are many ellipses, the last one being ironical: at one point Marziyeh's brother carries a heavy stone close to Panahi's car... and a few shots later we see the cracked windshield from inside. Last, villagers mostly speak Turkish, not Farsi, which Jafari cannot understand. All these mysteries have a meaning: we can only understand little of this recluse world.

Behind the depiction, the movie delivers a political message: these remote places are abandoned by the state. People complain about utilities failures and lack of doctors and veterinaries. Mentality also is backwards: women cannot do men's work; they cannot study what they want; they mostly stay home; Shahrzad is an outcast; a man has several wives. But the movie does not stigmatise villagers: they are also welcoming. At the beginning, an old man blows Panahi's car horn many times: we think it is a joke... but discover afterwards if was precisely to let the car pass easily. Villagers offer tea, food, telephone call, shelter, etc.

PERPETUAL MOVEMENT

Which bring us back to the above-mentioned continuity: the movie flows with the two main characters going from one place to another, by car or walking. It actually is a road-movie even though most of the action occurs in one place. The flow is also ethical: we cannot decide if the villagers are to be blamed (for their backward ideology) or praised (for their friendliness). We move from one feeling to an opposite one. Notably:

• Three men come to Panahi by night to offer him shelter, clothing and a blanket. This is kind... yet when they go away after he refuses, they say without compassion: "If there is hail, that will teach him (...) These townspeople, they think they know better."
• The old man's superstition about his son's prepuces is at the same time eccentric and respectable (there are worse beliefs).
• We hesitate between blaming Marziyeh for her fake suicide or pitying her for having to go to that extremity: Jafari also experiences both feelings. The movie carries neither prejudice nor definite judgement.

Nonetheless, despite all its qualities, the movie is not a masterpiece. Notably, it is too literal: we stick to the action and the cinematography could be more compelling. Just one example: when the bull is lying on the road at then end, we see him from far away. Closer shots would have rendered the scene more gripping: we could have been closer to the bull not only as a metaphor but also as a being. The movie shows obvious references to Abbas Kiarostami, who died in 2016 and for whom Panahi originally was an assistant director: quasi-documentary style, road-movie, remote village, life and death, unusual encounters, etc. Yet we can imagine how the master Kiarostami would have taken the same plot to another level.

Probably, the limited resources and clandestine shooting the movie was forced to adopt partly explain the sometimes lack of bigger-than-life dimension. Considering the filming ban Panahi has to compose with, "Three Faces" remains an impressive esthetical tour-de-force. Let us hope he will still be able to shoot and, hopefully some day, to do so without constraint.

Star Wars: Episode VIII - The Last Jedi (2017)

Has the Saga reached its limits?

[4/10 · 15 January 2018]

Sorry fans, we need to face it: the SW saga might have come to a dead-end, and it is not a once-off consequence of the latest Episode's failures (on this, more below). It is rather the opposite: the failures are the logical consequence of the saga reaching its limits. Yes, the arguably most famous franchise in the world (and not only in cinema), after creating a mythology that fascinated millions of fans over the last forty years, has demonstrated that the universe is finite.

WHAT HAPPENED?

Quick flashback. In Episodes 1 to 6, George Lucas created a simple but strong concept, uniting three themes: filiation, the Force and good versus evil. (As a reminder, Lucas directed four of the six Episodes and wrote all of them.) In summary, how a father Anakin and his son Luke dealt with the bright and dark sides of the Force. The main character of Episodes 1-3 is Anakin, while in Episodes 4-6 it is Luke, with Anakin's strong presence despite his relatively limited appearances.

All other themes are secondary, notably the struggle between the Empire and rebels: it is a background story. For instance, we never see how inhabitants of the galaxy live differently before and after the Empire seized power. SW is not about politics, the marginal exception being the Senate debates in Episodes 2 and 3.

The strong backbone built on the three themes provided unity and progression to the former six Episodes, as we followed Anakin's iconic story throughout: childhood, training, relationship with Padme, marriage, turning to the dark side, Luke's and Leia's births, discovery of filiation, parent-child relationship, redemption, death. These events echoed everyday life, transposed to an epic level: for instance, everyone has a bright and a dark side; here it is dramatically depicted in the flesh (detractors will say naively). With Anakin's death, the destruction of the Empire and Luke being the ultimate Jedi defending the bright side, the saga was over.

WHERE ARE WE NOW?

The main issue with Episodes 7 and 8 is they recycle the original concept, developing no new form or, if they do, overplaying it.

• Kylo Ren/Ben Solo is the new Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vador (note they both have two names), moving between the bright and the dark sides.
• To a large extent, Rey is the new Luke, orphan wondering about her parents, learning about the Force and being unsuccessfully appealed by Kylo to the dark side.
• Rey and Kylo distantly communicate as Luke and Anakin did in Episodes 5 and 6 (note the similarity between the names Rey and Ren).
• Luke is the new Yoda, exiled on a remote planet and teaching Rey about the Force.
• Side themes are similar: First Order is the new Empire; Snoke is the new Darth Sidious; the good guys struggle but eventually win or escape at the end.
• Scenes are similar. Darth Vador brings Luke to Darth Sidious in Episode 6: Kylo brings Rey to Snoke, down to details (e.g. Snoke undoes Rey's handcuffs, for no reason actually). Battle on the white planet Hoth where the Empire's AT-ATs face the rebels' stronghold in Episode 5: battle on the white planet Crait where First Order's AT-ATs face the rebels' stronghold (the only difference is snow is replaced by... salt!). Ewoks from Episode 6 are replaced by other silly animals (porgs, fathiers, crystal wolves). Etcetera. And then of course space battles, ground battles, lightsaber fights, etc. but that is part of the standard SW catalogue.

However copying previous Episodes does not exclude superficiality. Regenerating a saga requires more than a lazy script.

• Luke is just a grumpy old man, while Yoda was an intriguing character, funny yet powerful.
• We don't know anything about Snoke, while we followed Palpatine/Darth Sidious for a long time. So when Snoke goes down, we don't feel it is an important victory.
• The relationship between Rose and Finn is shallow despite its length.

To be fair, Episode 8 does have a few qualities.

• Landscapes are gorgeous notably Luke's island.
• The final battle on Crait in white and red is spectacular although flawed.
• When Holdo crashes her spaceship into the First Order spaceship, the resulting images and silence are stunning (silence at last as it should be, since there are no sounds in space).
• The connection between Rey and Kylo is convincing.
• Some dialogues are good.
• CGI is better as ever, but then it is not a sufficient quality nowadays.

WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?

Strategically, the studio only has three options to expand the saga:

1. Continue in the tradition of the former six Episodes. This will likely result in going around in circles, because we have pretty much exhausted the original three themes.

2. Find a new style, for instance political fiction, comedy or tale. But would it still be SW or something else?

3. A combination of the two above, which Episode 8 partly is: on top of reprocessing the saga, it includes some politics (casino, arms business, female hero), comedy (dialogues, situations, porgs) and tale (fathiers, crystal wolves, the ending with children). Yet cinematographically it is very difficult to successfully mix styles, as the relative failure of Episode 8 proves. Commercially however it is a smart move, because the studio can target new audiences, notably children with comedy and tale, thus ensuring long-term revenues, like the original SW fans provided for the last forty years.

Apart from expanding the saga, the studio can deep-dive into former Episodes with spin-offs on how the rebels found the plans to the death star ("Rogue One"), about Han Solo's life, etc. So instead of going broad, they can go deep. Naturally to make money by seducing new audiences without repelling the original fans, they will do both. The former SW created a myth and a business; it now is a business about recycling the myth.

Golden Years (2017)

Ambiguous movie depicting ambiguous characters and period

[8/10 · 6 October 2017]

AMBIGUITY AND CONFUSION

A general crisis (war) triggering a personal crisis: the original title "Nos années folles" ("Our wild/crazy years") illustrates this dichotomy. On the one hand, "années folles" (equivalent of "Roaring Twenties") refers to the 1920s since the movie spans from WWI to 1929. On the other, "our" refers to Paul/Suzanne's wild and crazy personality, taking his wife Louise on a no-return journey ("folle" also being a pejorative word for gay): the general crazy years are also their own.

If it were not based on real facts, the story would be unbelievable: a man deserts the army and dresses as a woman to escape the law. The most incredible part is: it succeeds even though under his new identity he becomes almost public by having sex with anybody. The movie is gripping because it does not only focus on that catching story: Paul's psychological ambiguity, the main driver of the plot, spreads to the whole movie, which constantly plays on ambiguity.

1. The story is at first non-linear, with numerous flashbacks. It takes some time to understand what is present and past.

2. The flashbacks are either real, either staged in a cabaret. Yet it is sometimes unclear what is staged or not. For instance the WWI battle is supposed to be real but is very stylised, with artificial lights and noises. Also, staging and real life sometimes alternate, for instance when we see Paul's sexual encounters in the forest.

3. Characters are ambiguous. Paul not only because of his gender and sexual transformation: he can be at the same time generous (he has sex with a disfigured soldier for free) and abominable (how he treats Louise and their child). Louise seems very steady and sane, yet because of her love for Paul she copes with his incredible, unfaithful and increasingly violent actions: she goes very far in acceptance and behaviour. The Count Charles looks like a mundane and affected aristocrat; yet, as opposed to Paul, he loved fighting in the war: his speech to Louise sounds like a warmonger's and a patriot's. However it was mainly because he had lost interest in life, that war provided a meaning to his existence. Hence it is difficult to judge who was a hero or a coward: Charles who ran away from life or Paul who took enormous risks to come back to Louise?

4. Apart from the general plot, events are sometimes "crazy". In the basement, Paul makes love to Louise while he is dressed like a woman. When Charles tells Paul he leads a ludicrous life, he is wearing a comical dressing gown and plays a small saxophone (sopranino) producing high-pitched sounds. The exuberant sexual party at Charles' is over the top.

When Paul asks Louise to sing for wounded soldiers in the hospital, we expect a song such as "Auprès de ma blonde" ("Together with my blonde girl"), which appropriately is a military march, yet also charming, and which is sung at another moment in the movie. But Louise sings a bawdy song: first surprise, since it is completely uncalled-for and the doctor asks her to stop. Second surprise: the wounded soldiers thoroughly enjoy it and applaud. This simple scene is one of the best in the movie, funny and touching.

5. Events can be interpreted in different ways: they are two-sided. When the cabaret stages Paul's first sexual encounters in bois de Boulogne, it is a beautiful scene, with glowing lighting and music: Paul is worshiped and carried like a god(ess). When it is staged a second time, it is sordid: Paul is treated like an object and left unconscious; the foulness is emphasised by also showing the scene in the actual setting.

Paul meets a handsome soldier, seen from his left side; however he is actually horribly disfigured on his right side. When Paul loses a finger at war, it is not clear if he did this himself to avoid fighting or if it was a real wound (historically, this point is still doubtful, even though Paul was trialled and acquitted regarding this event).

6. Most paradoxically, the movie depicts various extreme situations (war, horrible wounds, cross-dressing, prostitution, group sex, conjugal violence, etc.) in an elaborate and temperate style. The film is challenging but never vulgar.

IMMERSION

We are hence immersed with the characters in this ambiguous story. The director introduces two additional elements for this immersion:

1. It is not strictly speaking a "period movie" with imposing reconstitutions (war, scenery, costumes, etc.): it is shown at human level, with minimal effects. There have been many movies about WWI, but rarely such a one focusing only on characters, their personalities and relationships. For instance, there is an intense scene where Paul and Louise (as well as other couples) meet at an inn close to the battlefront just to have sex: the war does not even seem to exist; people are quiet and healthy; we do not hear the distant cannons.

The war is not depicted in itself, but as the impact it has on people: the wounded soldiers, Paul's transformation, Louise's involvement, Charles' personality.

2. There is no off-screen music that could introduce a distance. We hear what characters hear since all music comes from actual scenes: people singing, cabaret, band, instruments, etc.

-----

The fact "Golden Years" is based on a true story is of little relevance, especially since the movie seems to embellish Paul's personality, who apparently was a vile person in real life: style is more important than content. André Téchiné again demonstrates his talent. "Golden Years" is one of his most stylised movies, doubly putting into perspective the story: by staging it in a cabaret and by creating an elaborate atmosphere throughout. Yet far from generating a distance, this style brings us closer to the characters' ambiguities and instabilities. Some fine art, subtler than it first appears.

Loveless (2017)

Selfies, selfishness and sex: a pessimistic view on society

[9/10 · 3 October 2017]

"Nelyubov" ("Loveless") starts as a psychological movie about a divorcing couple, then evolves into a thriller after their child disappears, focusing on the search. Yet overall it is a critical view on modern society, notably Russian.

WE HIT BOTTOM...

The tone is pessimistic. The story focuses on a few individuals, however news heard on the radio or TV are depressing: the end of the world, corruption, war (Ukraine). Characters are confronted to a harsh environment: at work, bosses impose their arbitrary views to employees (no divorce, religion); the police cannot assist to find a missing child; missing children are commonplace.

The main victims of society are children. They are not desired and/or are not taken care of:

• Zhenya wishes she had aborted.
• None of the parents want to keep Alyosha.
• We understand Boris' girlfriend got pregnant "by accident".
• Zhenya did not have any milk for Alyosha when he was a baby (a revealing metaphor).
• Zhenya and Boris only realise after two days that their son is missing.
• At the end, Boris removes the crying baby instead of taking care of him.

All this is a repetition of the past: Zhenya was not desired by her mother either and now has harsh contacts with her. Hence we feel that eventually children will grow up to be like their parents, forever perpetuating the lack of love within families. This perpetuation is emphasised by similar shots at the beginning and end of the movie: empty snowy landscapes with the same tense music.

The "loveless" context spreads to all relationships:

• Zhenya tells Anton she loves him but he does not answer
• At the restaurant, a young lady easily gives her mobile number to a complete stranger... before sitting down with her date.
• People only care about themselves: what matter most is wealth (Zhenya's comment about Anton), appearance (the beautyparlour) and social media (various selfies).
• Symbolically, when the coordinator questions Alyosha's friend at school, the blackboard in the background shows cold mathematical formulas instead of words or drawings (detail emphasized afterwards when the teacher erases the board).

... AND DIG

The atmosphere is not only bleak: it deteriorates progressively, noticeably after Alyosha's disappearance. This evolution is illustrated in different ways:

• SITUATIONS. At the beginning, Zhenya and Boris are separating cruelly, but are hoping for a fresh start in new relationships. These are shown in parallel, always in the same two apartments, highlighting their similarities and hence developing a systemic view on couples. First, the vision seems positive: the two new couples each have dialogues and a long erotic scene. However, couples then slowly drift apart: dialogues are reduced, doubts about the relationship emerge, there are no erotic or tender scenes any more. Finally, couples are physically separated despite being in the same home: Anton watches TV while Zhenya practices on the balcony; Boris watches TV while his girlfriend talks to her mother in the kitchen.

• IMAGE. To start with, shots highlight the tension between Zhenya and Boris, living together unwillingly: the camera uses long focals (sharp foregrounds, blurred backgrounds); frames are saturated (Boris in the crowded elevator, Zhenya in the crowded metro, close shots on the tray at the canteen, etc.). After Alyosha disappears, characters seem lost among high buildings, deserted places and endless forests. They increasingly bump against elements: cold and wet weather, metal fences (twice), large river, gigantic radar in the middle of the forest. Noises are menacing: barking dogs, traffic, planes, etc.

• PLACES. After Alyosha disappears, cosy apartments are replaced by Zhenya's mother's neglected house, then a huge derelict building, then a dreadful mortuary. The sequence in the derelict building is pivotal: it used to be a pleasant place of gathering (room with many seats), music (standing piano) and enjoyment (beautiful art deco bar); all is now destroyed. The schoolyard, where children ran at the very beginning of the movie, is now empty, just filled with snow. At the very end, Alyosha's bedroom is torn down and completely reworked: the little that remained of the boy's soul is definitely gone.

• ALYOSHA. The boy actually is the main role: he opens the movie and is very present in the first part; after he disappears the entire plot revolves around his search. Yet we never see him again: this vacuum becomes the icon of a soulless society. The only elements that eventually remain from him are the posters with his picture, scattered in empty places, and the tape he threw into the tree at the beginning: two derisory reminders of his existence. (Side note: the tape is striped red-and-white for safety, announcing the forthcoming tragedy.)

The overall message is: we could have built a convivial society, but instead brought void and selfishness. Economic conditions can only partly be blamed since characters belong to middle or upper class. At the end, Zhenya is running on a machine, outside in winter, wearing a training suit proudly showing "RUSSIA": this cold society seems to be moving, but it is standing still, going nowhere. Meanwhile, Anton and Boris are watching propagandist news on TV. The allegory could hardly be more explicit: it is common knowledge that Zvyagintsev is very critical towards his country in general and the present government in particular.

That said, "Nelyubov" has a few downsides.

• It is almost too skillful: messages and codes ooze from every situation, with minutely crafted images.
• The vision is hopeless: nobody is truly positive, except maybe Alyosha who precisely disappears and the volunteers who mostly remain anonymous (the exception being the coordinator, who is nevertheless severe).
• Characters are somewhat stereotyped: to summarise, women are hysterical and men autistic.

All these elements render the movie relatively one-sided, almost cynical: everything is thrown overboard.

Nonetheless, "Nelyubov" remains an aesthetically impressive movie, to the extent that it never feels long despite its minimal action. Zvyagintsev again demonstrates he now is one of the leading Russian directors. His mastery seems to increase with every movie.

Moby Dick (1956)

A great cinema classic based on a great literature classic

[9/10 · 28 September 2017]

It requires considerable audacity to adapt such a masterpiece of world literature, all the more so as the novel's quality greatly relies on its inimitable style: how can one transpose this on screen? John Huston succeeds by creating a distinctive visual style, cinematographically compensating what he loses on the literary side.

Also, he builds a forceful story from beginning to end. The scenario was written by famous author Ray Bradbury together with Huston: a successful synergy between literature and cinema creators, despite tensions between the two men.

SCENARIO

The first quality of the movie is its efficient selection of scenes and dialogues. This is a real challenge: the novel is long, even after disregarding its "documentary" parts about whales, whaling, sea, etc. (cumulated, as many as 40 chapters out of 135). Hence the scenario had to make drastic selections. For instance, in the novel the Pequod comes across nine other ships (of which four encountered Moby Dick), while in the movie there are only two. Yet these represent the most striking meetings, with captains who respectively lost an arm and a son to the White Whale.

Essential scenes are almost all present, without feeling like a "reader's digest" of the novel: the movie perfectly holds together, with a balanced pace.

Also, the movie follows its own logic, which sometimes triggers a change in plot structure. Notably, Moby Dick first appears after 75 minutes (out of 110), which is early compared to the novel where he only appears in the last three chapters. This highlights the different internal logics of literature and cinema: in the novel, the late appearance is powerful because the White Whale remains a mystery until the very end. Herman Melville could compensate this delay with other scenes: encounters with ships who came across Moby Dick, dialogues and considerations about him, documentary-like descriptions of whales in general and that one in particular, etc. However, since the movie had to disregard most of these scenes, showing Moby Dick at the end only would have been anti-climatic.

Conversely, the movie transfers the tempest to the penultimate scene while in the novel it is slightly before: cinematographically, it typically is a highly climatic scene, while literarily it is less so, especially considering that Melville uses the tempest as a counterpoint to other scenes.

Last, the movie operates pertinent changes to the story, notably:

• Queequeg rallies from dying to save Ishmael from a dangerous fight (novel: rallies by his only willpower): it is visually more dramatic and credible;
• Ahab gives the gold coin to a shipmate (novel: first keeps it for himself): since the movie is shorter than the novel, it cannot emphasise Ahab's negative aspects, which are offset elsewhere in the novel;
• Starbuck wants to kill an awaken Ahab (novel: while he is sleeping): it is visually more dramatic and allows a following dialogue between the two men;
• Ahab's body is tied to Moby Dick at the end (novel: it is Fedallah's): visually, it is compelling since Ahab is a major character and his arm seems to incite his men to continue attacking the whale;
• After Ahab dies, Starbuck urges the men to continue attacking (novel: stays on the ship): it seems Ahab's lust for revenge has spread like a disease, even to rebellious Starbuck.

IMAGE

First, image has a special texture close to pastel, produced by adding black-and-white and silver layers on the usual colours. This has multiple impacts: it creates a unique tone, fit for adapting a masterpiece; it gives an "antique" feeling on line with the diegetic period; it looks like a painting, similar to the ones shown during the opening credits. All this has a purpose: "Moby Dick", amongst other things, is a tale where narrative distance is essential ("Once upon a time"), which Melville masterly rendered by his unique style. Hence the movie re-activates the exceptional sensation generated by the novel: narration sublimes the fable; it creates a legend by itself.

Additionally, shots are frequently saturated: close-ups, frame filled with faces, sails, ropes, etc. It is a paradox since most of the action occurs outside: broad shots are rare; we seldom see the sky. The movie opens in a forest and closes with a shot on a floating coffin. This saturation has multiple impacts:

• It aligns to the novel theme that the ship is a world in itself, with different ethnic origins and professions: we are immerged in the sailors' environment;
• It reinforces the fable-like feeling, since tales unfold at individual level ("They lived (un)happily ever after"). For instance the close shot on Moby Dick's eye echoes the one on Ahab's;
• It provides a baroque "thickness" to the opus, comparable to Melville's dense, ornate style.

Last, acting perfectly illustrates the story. It is emphatic, on line with the novel's tone and themes. Most actors' physique and approach completely fit characters: we feel Ishmael, Queequeg, Stubb, Flask, etc. could not be different. Gregory Peck as Ahab is convincing, but probably not as much as Orson Welles would have been, who was initially envisaged for the role and eventually gave a memorable performance of Father Mapple.

CONCLUSION

The novel "Moby Dick" altogether encompasses adventure, epic, documentary, tale, parable, myth. The movie takes all these aspects on board, bar the documentary parts. Yet, it is not a masterpiece: it could have been a longer, full-scale epic three- or four-hour long, to better render the sheer magnitude of the novel and include some revealing scenes (for instance, other ship encounters or when sailors erotically wade in the oil). Also, the dated special effects somewhat reduce awesomeness: Moby Dick is not quite impressive and the ship sinking at the end looks like a model siphoned into a bathtub. Nonetheless, the movie remains a rare successful adaptation of an eminent classic.

An Autumn Afternoon (1962)

Post-war shattered dreams

[10/10 · 14 April 2017]

"An Autumn Afternoon" is Ozu's last picture and probably his most bitter. In his other movies, sorrow was generally compensated by some caring characters or an affectionate relationship. Here, nothing really positive emerges. The plot is similar to the one of Banshun (1949), where the same actor also played a widower persuading his daughter to marry; however, "An Autumn Afternoon" is darker, with more social insight.

The original title ("The Taste of Mackerel Pike") is low-key, mysterious and meaningful, somewhat like Ozu's films. It refers to a fish that is widely eaten in Japan, especially in autumn when it is abundant: its taste is bitter (if eaten whole as Japanese frequently do for this species); and autumn evokes a world that is changing, possibly decaying.

It is a post-war movie, even though it was shot 17 years after WWII, in the sense that an emerging society tries to find its path within a modern world. There are many references to the war: Hirayama went to the Naval Academy; Hirayama and Sakamoto were on a warship; they discuss about war, as well as other customers later on; a jukebox plays a patriotic song twice (the Navy Hymn) and Hirayama sings it at the very end; Hirayama, Sakamoto and the waitress imitate the military salute; we understand Hirayama's wife died during WWII. The country faces mourning, humiliation of defeat, development challenges. Yet the society that emerges is void: it displays solitude, acrimony and materialism.

BITTER RELATIONSHIPS

Solitude is a dominant feature.

• Characters talk about professors and spouses who disappeared.
• Hirayama and Sakuma are widowers. A barmaid reminds Hirayama of his late wife.
• Hirayama, Kawai and Horie make jokes about death and refusal (see below).
• Hirayama is left alone at the end, drunk and depressed. His last words ending the movie are: "Lonely in life".
• Michiko is turned down by the man she loves. The plot then tends towards her marriage with another man, which should be good news; however we never see the ceremony and not even the bridegroom at any point: we just see Michiko in her wedding dress, silent and sad. Symbolically, she is still alone.
• After he comes back from the wedding, the barmaid asks Hirayama, "Were you at a funeral?" to which he tragically answers: "Sort of". It could be his own funeral since he is now lonely, or his daughter's, buried in a marriage that could turn out as the other couple's (see below).

Even when characters are not alone, relationships are cruel.

• Koichi and his wife Akiko always argue. There is not one single sweet moment between them, despite the fact it is the only couple we see (Horie's wife only appears briefly).
• Hirayama is frequently scolded by his children, even though he is a decent man.
• Koichi lies to him about the money he needs to buy a fridge.
• Tomoko despises her father Sakuma. Sakamoto says about Sakuma's noodle bar, right in front of him: "It's ugly here, let's go elsewhere."
• People frequently leave gatherings earlier than expected, spoiling the atmosphere. Notably, Horie unexpectedly leaves the dinner with Hirayama and Kawai, despite the fact Kawai cancelled a baseball game to attend.
• These so-called friends play nasty jokes to each other: Hirayama and Kawai make the waitress believe Horie is dead, while he is only late; afterwards, Kawai and Horie make Hirayama believe his daughter will not be able to marry the man they recommended, which saddens Hirayama, even though it is a lie.

And when relationships are not tense, they are shallow: conversations are mostly pointless; people drink a lot when they are together. Worse: left to their own fates, individuals have nothing valuable to hang on to. Knowledge is not praised any more: the former respected professor Sakuma is now obliged to run a cheap noodle restaurant to make a living. Lifestyle is disrupted; many activities relate to Western culture, not Japanese: Sakamoto complains American culture has invaded Japan... while drinking a whisky in a bar with a Western name! Characters also watch baseball or play golf with American branded clubs. The main exception is the aforementioned patriotic song, but that scene is highly ironic since Japan lost the war.

MATERIALISM

The only tangible element that dominates is materialism.

• Koichi and Akiko mostly think about buying a fridge, golf clubs, a handbag...
• Akiko covets a vacuum cleaner at a friend's home.
• Overall the movie is smooth: there are no loud noises, nobody shouts, we barely hear the city despite the fact we are in the middle of Tokyo. Precisely, the only exceptions are loud noises coming from material elements symbolising consumption: golf balls against the practice metal net, a jukebox, a syrupy off-screen music ironically playing when people go out to drink.
• Likewise, the most striking images are void of persons: the movie opens with shots on a huge factory with fuming chimneys; throughout the movie there are repeated "empty" shots, notably of bright neon signs outside the bars; we do not only hear the golf balls striking the metal net, we see them distinctly; the movie ends on other "empty" shots.

As a result of all above, persons are frequently sad: Hirayama, Michiko, Sakuma, Tomoko. The only relief is getting drunk. Amid this vacuity, only does the main character Hirayama understand his country has taken a wrong path. In a stunning remark that must have thoroughly shocked Japanese 1960s audiences, he admits to Sakamoto: "It is maybe better we lost the war" (instead of invading the USA with their culture if Japan had won instead). Nobody else seems to mind. For instance two customers in the bar shockingly laugh when they mention Japan was defeated: who cares as long as we can drink, they seem to think.

With "An Autumn Afternoon", Ozu asks: where have we gone? We could have built a brand new society with values, solidarity, hope; yet exactly the opposite happened. A bitter testimony that could still be valid nowadays.

The Wire (2002–2008)

One of the best series ever... and grimmest

[9/10 · 11 April 2017]

"The Wire" is widely considered as one the best series ever, and by many critics as the best. Despite its title, its topics are much more varied than wiring criminals and fighting drugs: criminality in general, law, ethnicity, crisis, politics, education, media, etc.

On all these issues, the tone is pessimistic. First about narcotics: the war on drugs is useless; new dealers replace those who are imprisoned; kids are enrolled young in illegal activities; addicts are not really helped out of their dependency. Other problems are numerous: murders, human trafficking, corruption, poverty, foreclosures, etc. The depiction of Baltimore is representative of decaying post-industrial cities, even though the entire series was shot before the 2008 crisis. As such, it exposes the failures of our so-called modern societies.

Echoing the grim context, individual lives are generally not joyful. We rarely see couples and families enjoying themselves together; they essentially argue. Happy scenes, if any, are short. None of the jobs is really exciting; professional relationships are regularly tense. Having a good time is usually getting drunk.

Regardless, "The Wire" has many qualities, some of which are briefly described below.

• The series adopts a convincing documentary style, based on factual experience and extensive research: actual events, overlaying plots, linear stories without flashbacks (only two minor exceptions), authentic settings, credible characters, great attention to details (notice for instance the constant realism of background noises). Important and/or charismatic characters are purposefully eliminated, because plot consistency is more important than role continuity.

• There essentially is no soundtrack, accentuating the documentary genre. However, at the end of each Season summarising the main characters' fates, music climatically emerges with an all the more compelling impact.

• It shows appearances are misleading: knowledgeable and apparently respectable persons can be felons. Levy skilfully uses the law to protect murderers he knows are guilty. Stringer follows business classes and develops a legitimate business to launder money. By contrast, D'Angelo has values despite his limited education and crimes. Additionally, the series progressively evolves: for instance the honour code respected by the Barksdale clan and the co-op falls apart when Avon and Stringer betray each other, then explodes as Marlo imposes terror.

• It highlights ethical ambiguities and compromises. McNulty uses Omar's false testimony to convict a killer (Season 2). Bunny reduces crime by creating Hamsterdam, a drug heaven... or hell? (Season 3) The school improves education by segregating students (Season 4). Symbolically, policemen and criminals present many similarities: they speak the same language with numerous f-words; they sometimes interact like accomplices; officers go undercover in the streets; they have resembling activities (drinking, loitering, assaulting, meetings with a chairman, pressure to improve results, trailing suspects).

• It is not Manichean. First, there are "villains" in every category of the population: inhabitants, policemen, felons, politicians, etc. Also, main characters are complex. Dedicated policemen usually have a flaw: McNulty is arrogant; Daniels has a shady past; Carver steals money; Herc eventually helps Levy. Most guiltlessly beat up suspects. The police hierarchy is cunning but cynical and manipulative. Conversely, most criminals have class, notably Stringer and Omar. Bubbles is friendly but pathetic. Carcetti is greedy but wants to improve the city. Editor Gus is bullying but righteous. At the very end, Marlo fights: we understand he is not just a show-off, but grew up in the streets. Characters evolve, notably children in Season 4 who have very different outcomes in Season 5.

• It illustrates the struggle between individuals and the system: how mostly decent people are oppressed by economic conditions and heartless organisations, of which hierarchy is only the visible part. Money is a persistent issue. To react, individuals sometimes go rogue. Dockworkers smuggle to compensate for the lack of activity (Season 2). Policemen use tracking devices without authorisation. McNulty and Freamon forge evidence to increase resources (Season 5). Eventually, nothing changes: the powerful and corrupt are rewarded (Carcetti, Nerese, Davis, Rawls, Valchek, Templeton, Marlo, Levy); the powerless and virtuous are punished (McNulty, Freamon, Daniels, Bunny, Gus, children). To carry on, the system requires truth to be manipulated, not exposed.

• To partly offset the permanent tension, humour is omnipresent. Dialogues feel at the same time real and to the point. Some are quite philosophical, even in unexpected places (e.g. the literary club in jail in Season 2, Episode 6).

• The series develops a powerful overall structure. Each Season is dedicated to a topic (respectively drugs, docks, politics, education, media) and integrates as well previous topics (except the docks which are specific). This culminates with Season 5 which condensates them in a final climax. The last Season also loops with the first: Season 1 showed a code-breaking wire that failed to indict the Barksdale clan; Season 5 shows a code-breaking wire that succeeds in capturing Marlo's gang. Yet at the very end, we go backwards: Valchek is the new Burrell; Michael is the new Omar; Duquan is the new Sherrod with another Bubbles; Marlo is loose; Levy will protect other criminals. The only good news are Namond succeeding and Bubbles being accepted by his family.

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The limits of "The Wire" are those of most series. Action is sometimes repetitive, since it runs for hours, and a few events are far-fetched, to maintain attention on the long term. Mostly, editing is fast, which is paradoxical for such a long series: instead of fully developing a scene, it frequently switches to another one; even in the same scene, shots are brief. This is somewhat an easy solution to maintain pace. The fact there were 27 different directors for 60 episodes probably did not help: it sometimes feels as if they wanted to stick to a set style instead of developing a personal vision, which partly relies on creator David Simon who wrote 51 of the episodes.

Nevertheless, "The Wire" is now a major classic among series. Not a feel-good watch, but definitely engrossing.

Downton Abbey (2010–2015)

Convincing illustration of two contrasting worlds (Season 1)

[8/10 · 20 January 2017]

"Downton Abbey" has many qualities, which have already been highlighted: splendid period reconstitution, mix of historical events and individual stories, consistent central plot with ramifications, multiple character focus, witty dialogues, excellent acting, etc.

This review (based on Season 1) analyses just one of them: how aristocrats and servants evolve in two parallel worlds that do not connect, yet present troubling similarities.

1. DISCONNECTION

The series manages to show two physically close environments as if they were on different planets. This underlines the disparities between social milieus in early 20th century Britain.

• Servants frequently go from the basement to the ground floor, however we never see them arriving there or leaving. This disconnection is first spatial: they sometimes start climbing the stairs, yet the camera never follows thoroughly (there are travelling shots following characters, but they always happen on the same storey). It is also temporal: we suddenly see servants on the ground floor without a link to previous action in the basement. Granted, there is a technical reason for that: all action on the ground floor and above was shot on site (Highclere Castle, UK), while action in the basement was shot in Ealing studios, since the castle's basement was not suited for period settings. Nonetheless, it would have been easy to film the servants going up the stairs in the studio and then edit their arrival on the ground floor (or conversely), which the series never does.

• Likewise, we see servants in above floors (aristocrats' bedrooms and servants quarters), yet never witness them arriving there. We do see them in the side staircase, but never going from there to the different levels: it is as if these stairs were separate quarters disconnected from the rest of the castle. Stairs could represent the possible link between servants and aristocrats (below versus above), but are denied their symbolic connection since they seem to lead nowhere. Here the reason cannot be technical as for the above topic, since the stairs are effectively located in the castle.

• Lighting on the ground floor and the aristocrats' bedrooms is generally bright, while in the basement and the servants' quarters it is always dim. Naturally, this can be explained by the windows sizes, however the contrast is pushed to the extreme: on cloudy days, the aristocrats' levels could be grim which rarely happens, while on sunny days the servants' levels could be bright which never occurs. Moreover, in the aristocrats' levels, colours are generally warm (yellow, red, white), while in the servants' levels they are usually cold (grey, brown, blue).

• Camera movements in the aristocrats' levels are fluid, poised, lengthy, while in the servants' levels they are brisker, faster, shorter. In the basement, the camera is frequently hand-held, highlighting the intensity of the work performed. Also, there sometimes is a character or an object in the foreground while action occurs in the background: we seem to bump into elements. The use of long lenses (foreground is blurred, background is sharp) increases this sensation of confinement. By contrast, in the aristocrats' levels, image is generally sharp.

2. SIMILARITIES

Despite the symbolic gap between them, aristocrats and servants sometimes experience similar events. The message seems to be: regardless of social differences, we are all humans, with joys, grieves, qualities, flaws and secrets. Here are just a few examples (I will refer to characters either by their first or last name, depending on what is most common in the series).

• Servants are all decent, with two notable exceptions, who are real "villains": O'Brien and Thomas. Aristocrats are all decent, with two notable exceptions, who are real b**ches: Edith and Mary (although Mary reveals herself as more complex towards the end of Season 1).

• Servants cannot marry because of their function: Mrs Hughes turns down her lover; Carson is a long-time bachelor; the love between Anna and Bates remains chaste. The Crawley daughters cannot marry: Mary turns down pretenders including Matthew, who then turns her down; Edith is turned down by Anthony Strallon; Sybil is still young.

• William loves Daisy, who loves Thomas who prefers men. Edith loves Matthew, who loves Mary who does not love anybody. Both settings progressively evolve, however they occupy most of Season 1.

• Bates has a complex and shameful past: war, alcohol, thievery, jail. Mary has sexual relations before marriage, which was scandalous at the time, especially for an aristocrat; and it provoked the death of her lover Kemal Pamuk. All these terrible secrets will progressively be revealed.

• Various lesser intrigues between the aristocrats are echoed with the servants, and conversely. For instance: Thomas sends a letter to compromise Bates; Edith sends a letter to compromise her sister Mary. Gossip is widespread between the two milieus and within each.

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On both above topics, "The Rules of the Game" (Renoir, 1939) greatly influenced the series as well as "Gosford Park" (Altman, 2001), written by Julian Fellowes himself. Yet "Downton Abbey" manages to create a specific atmosphere, distinct from these two movies.

If I had to rate Season 1 compared to a cinema feature, I would probably give it 7/10: despite all its qualities, it does have some downsides. Characters are Manichean. It triggers easy emotions. Some events are far-fetched (e.g. the feud between Mary and Edith, Kemal's heart attack). It mostly shows early 20th century as good old times and aristocracy as a benevolent power. The worst villains are all non-aristocrats: O'Brien, Thomas, Carson's ex-stage partner, the drunken mob at the suffragette rally.

However, most of these drawbacks can be explained by the series format, which generally requires simplification to maintain attention on the long term. Hence as a series it probably rates 9/10 for all the qualities briefly described at the beginning of this review. The final rating 8/10 is an average of the two: entertaining and convincing but not essential.