THE WEEKLY RECAP: July 2 - 8

Dreams (1990)

Directed by Akira Kurosawa

* * ½

Allegedly based on the actual dreams of master filmmaker Akira Kurosawa, Dreams is exactly what it sounds like it’s about, for lack of a better way of putting it. Specifically, Kurosawa chooses eight dreams of his lifetime and commits them to film. With this said, there isn’t much to offer as far as giving a plot synopsis is concerned – well there is, but that’s a synopsis for every segment – so I think it’s more worth my time to dive into the basic gist of my overall feelings on the film.

Dreams was one of the very last films by Kurosawa, and like much of his post-‘60s output, Dreams is not an essential part of Kurosawa’s filmography, therefore is strictly for Kurosawa superfans and completionists. This doesn’t necessarily make Dreams a bad film by any means – the vast majority of the film is very visually arresting, with clever shot composition and a robust color palette that just blossoms off the screen. Most of the segments are absolutely captivating and tones shift drastically without feeling out of place. Some are very joyous (“The Peach Orchard”), some haunting (“The Weeping Demon”), and some downright terrifying (“Mount Fuji in Red”). My particular favorite is “The Tunnel”, where a former military officer is confronted by a platoon of soldiers – now ghosts – who were killed during the war.

These segments work well as, well, segments, but they never really culminate into an overall effective film – not necessarily the fault of the director, as short film collections like this tend to all have this same problem (though Jarmusch’s Night on Earth is a terrific exception). If anything could have made this more fascinating, perhaps a more stream-of-consciousness structure (a la Tarkovsky’s The Mirror) would have added to the whole dream logic feel. There is some overbearing preachiness here and there, but I can let some of that go, as Kurosawa has always been an admirably message-driven filmmaker. Overall, I admire the vision and heart that beats throughout Dreams, but it still doesn’t equate to a great film from perhaps the greatest filmmaker who has ever lived. Even the masters have the occasional slumps.

The Earrings of Madame De… (1953)

Directed by Max Ophuls

* * *

Though surrounded wall-to-wall by glitzy riches, the aristocratic Louise (Danielle Darrieux) is deeply in debt and needs money. She goes through her prized jewelry, and can only find herself to part with a pair of earrings, which were a wedding gift from her husband, Andre (Charles Boyer). She pawns them, but are eventually sold back in secrecy to Andre, who then proceeds to give them to his mistress, who pawns them after gambling…and no matter where the earrings go, they always end up in the home of Andre and Louise. Years and years pass by, and in that time we observe Louise’s affection for Andre wane and blossom for Donati (Vittorio De Sica), an Italian diplomat.

The Earrings of Madame De… is not the kind of movie I would usually go out of my way to watch, in spite of its glowing reputation (it currently holds the #120 spot on TSPDT’s 1000 Greatest Films). My curiosity was piqued when I saw a video essay on Bela Tarr’s style, and the essay made countless comparisons to the style of Ophuls. Though I think the comparisons are a little bit of a stretch (at least in the case of Earrings), the film is still brilliant on a technical level. Like Tarr, there is an abundance of long takes, but contrary to Tarr, shots are very kinetic and dynamic – I was tempted a few times to rewind scenes to pay further attention to just how in the hell Ophuls pulled some of these shots off. I was reminded somewhat of The Cranes are Flying, a film from the same time period that is equally as impressive as far as technicality.

Also like The Cranes are Flying, however; the drama that The Earrings of Madame De… centers around isn’t anything much to write home about. The earrings made for an interesting comment on frivolity and aristocracy, but are completely forgotten about half of the time while focusing on the affair between Louise and Donati. While they’re not boring characters, they’re not particularly gripping either. That said, the script is very witty, surprisingly funny, and quite poignant from time to time. I’m in between a 2.5 and a 3 for this one, but upon writing this, I’ve discovered that the good outweighs the bad. Who knows, maybe I’ll eventually recognize The Earrings of Madame De… for the masterpiece that it is constantly alleged.

His Girl Friday (1940)

Directed by Howard Hawks

* * *

The hectic, fast-paced life of journalism seems to be a perfect fit for the equally fast-paced Walter Burns (Cary Grant), an editor for The Morning Post. One morning, he is visited by his ex-wife and former reporter Hildy (Rosalind Russell). To Walter’s dismay, Hildy reveals that she is engaged to Bruce (Ralph Bellamy), a well-intentioned yet ultimately unremarkable Average Joe. While out to lunch, Walter practically begs Hildy and her writing expertise to cover one more story: the upcoming hanging of Earl Williams (John Qualen), who has been convicted of murdering a police officer. Though Walter’s states that his intention is to prove Earl’s innocence, his real motive is to sabotage his ex’s wedding and maybe, just maybe, win her back.

 Considered one of the greatest Screwball Comedies ever made, His Girl Friday is one of the most frantically-paced and cleverly written films I’ve seen yet. The fast pacing perfectly matches the world that these characters inhabit, and it makes for great comedy. Not necessarily gut-busting comedy, but the kind where the viewer, trying to keep up with everything that’s going on, doesn’t realize the hilarious thing that just happened until a beat or two later – the “Wait a minute – what!?” kind of comedy (and one of my favorite styles). But Charles Lederer’s clever script wouldn’t have been possible without the wonderful duo that Grant and Russell share. Like an intense ping-pong match, their comic timing is always bouncing off of each other, making for great chemistry between the two.

Interestingly enough, though, this leads to my primary criticism of the film: as integral as the Grant-Russell duo is to the film, there’s a major chunk throughout the second and some of the third act where they go separate ways and work individually instead of together, and considering just how wonderful they are together, this did bring the pace down a little bit. Also, there’s a major tone shift with the Earl Williams subplot. The subject matter is serious enough, but when followed by a jailbreak (complete with a shootout), I completely forgot that I was watching a comedy. Perhaps these are criticisms that can wane with a second watch, because I am otherwise in complete agreement with His Girl Friday’s reputation as one of the greats.

Mamma Roma (1962)

Directed by Pier Paolo Pasolini

* * ½

Once a street prostitute, Mamma Roma (Anna Magnani) has left her sleazy lifestyle behind to pursue a brand new life. She invests every penny into a brand new apartment and starts a vegetable stand, all for the sake of her son Ettore (Ettore Garofolo) with the most motherly commitment possible. As he approaches his teenage years, however, Ettore is bound for a rough life – with no desire to work or no goals, Ettore spends his days wandering the rather rough streets of Rome with his hoodlum friends, as well as falling for Bruna (Silvana Corsini), whose promiscuity makes her the degrading talk of the town. Seeing the path her son is headed toward, Mamma Roma takes whatever action is necessary for the betterment of her son.

Though made (and set) in the early ‘60s, Mamma Roma is deeply indebted to the Italian Neorealist works of the ‘40s and ‘50s, with its depiction of the struggle for survival and betterment in an unforgiving and collapsing urban landscape – one of the more striking elements of Mamma Roma is its depiction of Rome, which looks like a torrent of post-apocalyptic ruins. I absolutely love Italian Neorealism, and I looked greatly forward to Mamma Roma, but I was somewhat disappointed, and it’s all because of one thing: rather than depicting the drama in heightened realism, the film treats its drama in a melodramatic fashion, where characters speak their minds and emotions in operatic and grandiose tones. As you could imagine, this stands in distractingly stark contrast with the gritty world these characters inhabit.

At least the melodrama doesn’t overshadow Mamma Roma’s redeeming qualities, which are certainly worth bringing up. How can anyone talk about this film without bringing up Magnani’s sharp and brilliant performance? She has such a striking performance in all of her films that commands your attention even if it’s not a great film – evident in Mamma Roma, obviously, but as well as the seminal Rome, Open City (the latter of which I was never a fan of). The mother-son dynamic, which touches on a sort of emotional dependency on the mother’s part, is also extremely fascinating, but the film never went all the way, so it feels like a half-baked idea that’s touched on from time to time throughout. On a side note, this would make a very interesting double-bill with Fellini’s wonderful Nights of Cabiria, but if you were faced to watch only one or the other, go Fellini.