Thursday, 14 November 2013
Hud [1963]
Hud, Martin Ritt’s blistering adaptation of McMutry’s debut novel Horseman Pass By, was a powerful depiction of generational conflict and father-son feud. In keeping with the changing sensibilities of American cinema during the 60s, it had a thoroughly gray lead character and brilliantly mirrored the growing cynicism among the youth with traditional social structures and idealism. At the heart of the matter were three finely etched characters – the elderly Texas cattle-rancher Hommer Bannon (Melvyn Douglas), his embittered and amoral younger son Hud (Paul Newman), and his naïve teenaged grandson Lonnie (Brandon deWilde) who hero-worships Hud and becomes the unwitting participant in the simmering collissions between the two headstrong men. Alma (Patricia Neal), the earthy and sensuous domestic help who Lonnie is infatuated with and the libidinous Hud leers after, played a key plot driver, as did the sudden outbreak of foot-and-mouth disease that might wipe off their herd. The fact that Hud craves for his father’s love and acceptance and yet ends up continually aggravating their already ice-cold relationship – Hommer considers Hud to be responsible for his his elder son’s death, and that was just the tip of the iceberg – made this Shakespearean tragedy an interesting companion piece to Kazan’s East of Eden, even though, unlike the latter, the resolution never arrived in the final act here. The film boasted of a string of terrific performances, including an incredibly charismatic turn by Newman, while the glorious widescreen B/W photography of the desolate landscapes and the scantly populated town, along with the evocative but minimalist score, superbly brought forth the underlying themes of loneliness and death of a way of life, and the poignancy thereof.
Director: Martin Ritt
Genre: Drama/Psychological Drama/Modern Western/Americana
Language: English
Country: US
Labels:
1960s,
5 Star Movies,
American Cinema,
Drama,
Essential Viewing
Friday, 8 November 2013
Eyes Without a Face [1960]
In the pantheon of horror cinema, Georges Franju’s arthouse classic Eyes without a Face holds an important place for its facile mix of the genre’s sensibilities with disconcerting psychological overtones. The director brilliantly captured the grotesque with the melancholic with equal ease, and imbued the movie with moodiness and poetic realism, thus resulting in a disquieting yet surprisingly tender examination of society’s obsession with physical beauty and perfection, and the age-old philosophical debates on the acceptable realms of science. Doctor Génessier (Pierre Brasseur), a renowned expert on heterograft surgeries for facial reconstruction, decides to take things a step further when the face of her beautiful daughter (Edith Scob) gets damaged in an accident. With the help of his eerily loyal assistant (Alida Valli), he starts kidnapping young attractive ladies in order to transplant their faces to her daughter. The result was a grisly depiction of the length to which a man can go to bring her daughter’s beauty back, and the more he fails, the more he becomes entrapped in an inescapable vicious cycle. The gothic premise and Franju’s portrayal of the monstrous underbelly of human psyche was accentuated manifold by the expressionistic photography and coldly chilling atmospheric. Simultaneously, the fragile girl’s entrapment in her father’s labyrinthine mansion, and being declared dead to the world outside despite being alive, added strong poignant touches, as did the beautifully haunting score. The film, which was released in the US under the bizarre title of The Horror Chamber of Dr. Faustus in a ludicrous attempt to draw the B-movie crowd, reminded me a lot of Teshigahara's The Face of Another.
Director: Georges Franju
Genre: Horror/Psychological Horror/Gothic Film
Language: French
Country: France
Labels:
1960s,
4.5 Star Movies,
French Cinema,
Highly Recommended,
Horror
Wednesday, 6 November 2013
Stroszek [1977]
Bruno Schleinstein, aka Bruno S., was as deeply troubled a person as were his indelible characters in the 2 Herzog films he acted in, The Enigma of Kasper Hauser and Stroszek. His character here was an outsider to the world around him, though not as distinctively as in the former film, and paid with his life as a result. This devastatingly bleak and addecting film was the maverick filmmaker’s meditation on the cruel ironies associated with the enduring myth of ‘American Dream’ and what it entails to be happy in a world that is trying hard to wear us down. The cheekily named protagonist Bruno Stroszek (Bruno S.) is a Berliner, an ex-mental asylum inmate and street musician whose life revolves around his piano and accordion. His life turns hellish on account of two vicious pimps when he allows Eva (Eva Mattes), a down on her luck prostitute, to take refuge in his cramped apartment. So, in the hope for a better life, they move to the US along with an ageing, diminutive, kindly and eccentric friend (Clemens Scheitz). They start living the dream when they buy a car and a mobile house using readily available bank loans, and start working like their blue-collar comrades. However, their short-lived happiness comes crashing down when they start defaulting on their loan payments, and soon find themselves on a spectacular downward spiral leading to a gut-wrenching finale. The wide-angle photography marvelously captured the impersonal urban landscapes of Berlin as well as the stark and wintry rural Wisconsin locales, along with the connecting threads of loneliness and melancholia; the lilting Country tunes and heartfelt performances added to the film’s tragic beauty.
Director: Werner Herzog
Genre: Drama/Black Comedy/Social Satire
Language: German/English
Country: Germany
Labels:
1970s,
5 Star Movies,
Comedy/Satire,
Drama,
Essential Viewing,
German Cinema
Monday, 4 November 2013
Stromboli [1950]
Ingrid Bergman was so impressed with Rossellini’s Open City and Paisan that she wrote a letter to the Italian auteur expressing her desire to work with him. With this began a much recounted but short-lived love story as they didn’t just collaborate on 5 films, Stromboli was the first of which, but also got embroiled in controversy on account of the extra-marital nature of their relationship even though the two eventually got married. Considered a landmark in Italy’s neo-realist movement, the film provided a troubling look into the country’s patriarchal society and deep-set religious orthodoxy with the scars from the just concluded WWII providing a key backdrop. Karin (Bergman) is a Lithuanian war refugee who agrees to a marriage of convenience with an Italian POW (Mario Vitale), upon which they relocate to the titular volcano island where he’s a fisherman. The realization as to what she has gotten into starts dawning on her thereafter, as the barren, desolate and suffocating wastelands, with the fear of the dormant volcano turning active perennially looming on all, aptly juxtaposed with the ultra-conservative nature of the island’s residents treating her as an outsider – regarding which there’s never any doubt – when she doesn’t conform to their image of a pious wife. It further worsens when her husband too turns out to be one of them as she finds herself alienated and cut-off from the world outside. Though the melodramatic portrayal of her situation didn’t always mix seamlessly with the harsh realism, particularly in the tad overdone finale, the fine B/W photography, Bergman’s immersive turn and the film’s ambivalent nature assisted in providing an affecting picture of a woman’s existential crisis.
Director: Roberto Rossellini
Genre: Drama/Marriage Drama/Rural Drama
Language: English/Italian
Country: Italy
Labels:
1950s,
4 Star Movies,
Drama,
Italian Cinema,
Recommended
Friday, 1 November 2013
Stolen Desire [1958]
Japanese iconoclast Imamura’s fascination with the lower rungs, fringes and losers of the society, particularly in the context of post-war Japan, and his penchant for riotous and rambunctious proceedings, baser instincts, and bawdy and ribald comedy were evident in his debut film and first of three films he made the same year, Stolen Desire. It also provided immediate evidence of his desire to break free of Ozu’s influence, under whom he had apprenticed. The story revolved around a penniless travelling theatre troupe that stages kabuki plays, but, on account of dwindling audiences, has resorted to opening with striptease shows. The majority of the film focused on their trip to an earthy village after frustrating run at Osaka to empty houses, and the ensuing series of raucous misadventures and peccadilloes by the string of colourful actors and villagers. During their stay at the village the whole kitchen sink gets thrown in the form of in-group factions, drunken brawls, crooked landowner, lascivious men spying on the girls, old cackling ladies with deceptively smart business acumen, taboo-breaking, and more. And, amidst all the chaotic scheme of things, we have a love triangle too in the form of Shinichi (Hiroyuki Nagato), the idealistic college-educated director who is the odd man out in the troupe, Chidori (Yoko Minamida), the beautiful wife of the leading actor with whom Shinichi is madly in love, and Chigusa (Michie Kita), Chidori’s jealous younger sister who in turn is in love with Shinichi. By the end of the year Imamura’s incredible prowess would become obvious with the darkly funny heist film with the similarly sounding title, Endless Desire.
Director: Shohei Imamura
Genre: Comedy/Social Satire/Ensemble Film/Romantic Comedy
Language: Japanese
Country: Japan
Labels:
1950s,
3.5 Star Movies,
Comedy/Satire,
Japanese Cinema,
Romance,
Worth a Look
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