Daisies (1966)
Directed by Vera
Chytilova
* * *
In one of the wildest foreign
exports of the ‘60s, Vera Chytilova’s feminist parable embodies the saying
“Girls just wanna have fun”. Daisies follow
the exploits of two rambunctious young women only credited as Marie 1 &
Marie 2 (Jitka Cerhova & Ivana Karbanova). They go from place to place with
shameless girlish glee, always causing
a ruckus wherever they go. There is no malicious intent on their part, but with
each chaotic episode, they are forced to move on elsewhere, leaving them
existentially stranded. Though they wander a world they are seemingly unwelcome
in, they only carry on with an excited smile.
Though it’s quite tame
compared to its colorful and chaotic reputation (it was famously banned because
of the climactic food fight), there’s no denying just how fortuitous and ahead
of its time Daisies was – lots of experimentation with color and
editing, which is actually quite effective. Regarding the former, I can see
where Natural Born Killers gets some
of its influence (though Daisies is
not nearly as disorienting). And as for the editing, I was truly stunned how in
control the editing was for such an out-of-control film. But does it contribute
to anything? Well, I certainly enjoyed this movie – the two leads were
absolutely charming, and there were some slapstick scenes that would make
Chaplin proud (namely the nightclub scene, probably my favorite part of the
film).
At the end of the day, though,
Daisies is ultimately a gutsy
experiment (akin to a student film) that exists for nothing more than just that
– the film just so happened to have a massive impact on the art form (as well
as paving a road for female filmmakers), and doesn’t pack as much of a punch as
it did back in ’66, making it feel somewhat dated at times. If you can get past
that, though, it’s still an entertaining and fascinating watch, and doesn’t
overstay its welcome (runs under 80 minutes). Definitely not for everybody, but
a quintessential piece of experimental and feminist cinema.
Face to Face (1976)
Directed by Ingmar Bergman
* * ½
Bergman regular Liv Ullman
takes the lead as Dr. Jenny Isaksson, a psychiatrist whose husband is away.
Though very adept at her job, her husband’s absenteeism seems to bring about a
void in her being, leading to a state depression. She spends time with
colleagues, friends, and her grandparents, but nothing seems to bring her out
of her emotional alienation, and things are only further complicated by Dr.
Jacobi (Erland Josephson), a man who has taken sexual interest in Jenny. It is
here that Jenny’s mental health reaches its boiling point and leads her down a
path toward a nervous breakdown.
Liv Ullman has one of the most
interesting faces I’ve ever seen; never have I seen a face that suggests so
much feminine strength and confidence, and yet there is also an alarming sense
of vulnerability. Undoubtedly did Bergman see this as well, and he used these
qualities to maximum effect in Face to
Face. The result was a performance that earned Ullman an Oscar nomination.
She perfectly depicts a woman who desperately wants to believe she is just
fine, but instead is only sweeping her own emotional damage under the rug. All
across the board, everybody praises Ullman’s performance in this film. Believe
the hype.
Unfortunately, I can’t share
the same acclaim for the film around Ullman’s performance. There are some
fascinating ideas and some great executions of those ideas, particularly the
seamless transitions into the manifestations of Ullman’s psyche – it’s almost
like Bergman collaborated with a really depressed Fellini. That said, Bergman
utilizes his traditional style here, that style being a film that feels more
like watching a play than a movie. For a psychological drama like this, it would
have worked much better had he made this during his experimental phase a decade
prior, when he was making films like Persona.
Combined with the fact that the movie is quite bloated, it was somewhat of
a slog to sit through. Granted, it was worth it for Ullman’s performance alone,
but this is not Bergman at his best or most essential.
Kings of the Road (1976)
Directed by Wim Wenders
* * * *
Bruno Winter (Rudiger Volger)
is a sort of vagabond while working as a mechanic for projection-equipment, travelling
from city to city, from job to job, while living in his semi-truck. While
getting his day started one morning, minding his own business, Bruno witnesses
Robert Lander (Hanns Ziscler) attempt suicide by driving his car into a body of
water. However, Lander ascends from the water and is taken under Bruno’s wing,
who provides him hospitality. He is accepted as company in Bruno’s travels, and
the two embark on a road trip across Germany.
learning about themselves, their loneliness, and their place in the
world along the way.
This week, we cap off Wim
Wenders’s Road Trilogy with Kings of the
Road, not only the towering achievement of the series, but one of the
finest cinematic road trips ever made. The allegorical drabness of Alice in the Cities combined with Wrong Move’s technical expertise all
culminate here to full display. Kings of
the Road utilizes the open roads as a metaphor for the frightening yet
inspiring vastness of the paths of life itself, and the result is a
near-perfect existentialist study on the tragic yet all-too relatable
self-imposed isolation from life’s uncertainty. It is also amazing just how
much of this shines considering just how quiet the film is, as there is very
little dialogue in its nearly 3-hour runtime.
On a technical level, Kings of the Road is absolutely
spectacular, with some wonderful black-and-white photography, resulting in some
truly unforgettable images that I’ll never forget. The performances, though
there’s not much to judge on, fit their roles perfectly. Also worth noting is
Axel Linstadt’s terrific score, a soothing collection of acoustic folk music
(truly a shame there is no release of the soundtrack anywhere) If I have any
one criticism, the very final scene should not have been the ending – especially
frustrating that the scene prior (where the truck and train traverse separate
yet parallel paths) would have been the perfect scene to close on. That said,
that was not enough to warrant a 4-star rating from me. Track this one down, if
you can. Kings of the Road is truly
something special.
La Belle Noiseuse (1991)
Directed by Jacques Rivette
* * * *
Once a revered painter,
Frenhofer (Michel Piccoli) has not painted anything in a decade. Living in a
beautiful estate in the countryside with his wife Liz (Jane Berkin), Frenhofer
seems to be content in a quieter lifestyle. Everything changes, however, when
he is visited by Nicolas (David Bursztein), an artist, and his beautiful wife,
Marianne (Emmanuelle Beart). While touring the estate, Frenhofer passively
mentions “La Belle Noiseuse”, a painting intended to be his magnum opus, which
he abandoned 10 years ago. The painting requires the modelling from a naked
woman, shoes that were once filled by Liz, but have been abandoned along with
the completion of the painting. Though Frenhofer has no intention of completing
the painting, an interesting idea is brought up: have Marianne pose for him.
This compels Frenhofer to complete the project. Though Marianne is hesitant,
she agrees, and from that point forward it becomes a descent into the slow,
painful, and emotionally tolling process of art.
Wow. What a film this is.
Though I was hesitant of approaching this movie due to its 4-hour runtime, it
has always sounded very intriguing, not in the least due in part to Roger
Ebert’s thoughts on the film, to which he said “[this] is the best film I have
ever seen about the physical creation of art, and the painful bond between an
artist and his muse.” Took the words right out of my mouth. La Belle Noiseuse has one of the most
mesmerizing spells a film has ever cast upon me. When I initially walked into
this movie, I intended to watch it over the course of two days. An hour into
it, which I was really enjoying, I decided I’d watch it all in one day, but
take a good break in between. By the time the first disc was over, I couldn’t
part ways – I absolutely had to
finish this movie, as if my life depended on it, and I completed the whole film
in one sitting. Granted, if I may be momentarily juvenile, getting to see
Emmanuelle Beart naked for 75% of the movie was pretty wonderful.
I don’t think anybody has ever
quite captured the simultaneous joy and tediousness of the artistic process
quite like this. Jaques Rivette uses every aspect of filmmaking to capture
this, primarily through setting and sound. Once Frenhover and Marianne get
started, there’s an incredibly isolated feel to the studio they inhabit
(artists tend to live in their own little world when they’re in the depths of
their work). And then there’s the sound design; so much magnification on the
paintbrushes and fountain pens – the latter is especially interesting; the
sound goes from grating to soothing. There’s so much to say about this
masterpiece that a mini review can’t begin to fill. Definitely expect a ‘Great
Favorites’ entry on this one.
Pandora’s Box (1929)
Directed by G.W. Pabst
* * * ½
With her goddess-like beauty
and her gleeful energy, Lulu (Louise Brooks) is simply irresistible – when she
is being judged in a court of law, she is later believed to be the troublesome
goddess Pandora herself. How could she have possibly gotten herself there?
Well, it all begins with her and a Dr. Schon (Fritz Kortner), to whom she is a
mistress. He is engaged and no longer wants to continue his affair with Lulu,
but her enticement ultimately wins him over – so much so that his engagement is
destroyed, but at least he has Lulu. They get married, but it will only bring
them further into a downward spiral.
This is another one of those
movies I was compelled to see just by a single image alone – in the case of Pandora’s Box, I was allured by the
photo of Lulu lifting the veil from her face (this image is used as the cover
for the Criterion DVD). Her character is very playful and animated in her
being. I’ve already described this above, but what makes this such a unique
performance is that her energy emanates so much from her being that she almost
appears to be breaking the fourth wall, and her irresistible nature washes over
into the audience without fail. Oh, and she’s also an absolute joy to behold.
Obviously, Brooks and her
performance lived up to the image that so captivated me (this is my first
Brooks experience, by the way). What about the rest of the movie? Well, while
it’s nothing too special for my
personal taste, I found it interesting how ambiguous they made Lulu’s nature –
is she just somebody who is too playful, or does she have genuine malicious
intent? There’s plenty of room for discussion and debate, and I find this to be
a bold move for a film from ’29. Other than that, the rest of the movie was
fine. Definitely not my favorite from this era, but worth it alone for good old
Louise Brooks.
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