SKETCHES FLESHED OUT

AWKWARD MOMENT

Tue, 01 Feb 2011 14:58:53 +0100

Billionaire wants to look cool and hip. A bit late for that. Lame as well. Especially when facing Jesse.

PT.4_HOUSE OF BAMBOO_USA_1955

Sun, 31 Oct 2010 23:05:00 +0100

Released on R2 DVD by Carlotta in 2006.

Sam Fuller’s 1955 Tokyo crime drama is a peculiar piece. By the time it was made, the anti-American sentiment was strong among the Japanese people and nothing but clichés were to reach the other Pacific coast.

The film is an incredible testimony of Post-war Tokyo. It was indeed shot in Japan (not only in Tokyo, but also in Kamakura for instance, where the Buddha scene takes place), a compelling move on Fuller’s part, at a time when second unit insert shots were the only remnants of a possible reality burried under piles of cardboard-soundstages. Here, the main characters are constantly making their way into crowds of native Japanese minding their own businesses (Fuller rejected producer Darryl Zanuck’s suggestion of using Gary Cooper in favor of the lesser known Robert Stack, in order to be able to shoot freely precisely among real passersby). Those are incidentaly the most radiant pieces of the film, bearing little ressemblance to the studio-shot narrative sequences.

The other seminal aspect of the film is its look at interracial relationship between Japan and America. Profound love and respect for Japanese culture and traditions pervade throughout the whole film. It looks like as if Fuller was trying to make up for the American sit-in all the way through. Japanese people are always portrayed in the best of lights and I don’t recall any of them involved in any criminal activity whatsoever in the entire film. On the contrary, they endorse strong moral values that they really live by. Stark contrast is provided by the all duplicitous and/or vulgar occidental characters. Of course, the shock of cultures will end up profitable for all parties, but at the time, it was quite a longshot…

All of this appears in a raw shape, but few western films will ever manage to get a more sensible approach of this particular issue, maybe Sidney Pollack’s The Yakuza and Jean-Pierre Limosin’s Tokyo Eyes are among the few exceptions to get that Japanese mindset…

50 years ahead... Billy Wilder's insight we deeply miss.

Thu, 14 Oct 2010 14:06:35 +0200

50 years ahead... Billy Wilder's insight we deeply miss.:

Billy Wilder’s 1951 Ace In the Hole, in the light of the Chilean Miners extraction.

PT.3_WALKABOUT_AUSTRALIA/UK_1971

Tue, 12 Oct 2010 18:03:30 +0200

Released on R1 BR by The Criterion Collection in 2010, R1 DVD by The Criterion Collection, R2 FR DVD by Potemkine (beware other editions).

The story of a young girl and her little brother, lost in the Australian desert. Along the way, they chance encounter a young aborigene on his walkabout, a traditional rite consisting of spending one year by themselves in order to get reacquainted with the land and be able to survive on their own. He will try and help them out.

There is so much to say about, and feast your eyes with, Walkabout. So many of its features stand out, be it cinematography (Nicolas Roeg, who was directing his first solo feature here, was the DP for so many cornerstones in the previous decade, Lawrence of Arabia only being the most obvious one), innovative editing techniques, or a seminal concept of human interaction/alteration with nature.

The thematic developments related to a population reaching as far as it could, rendered to madness when confronted to the vanity, uselessness and inadequacies of their lives in such an environment (one would be tempted to call it ‘hostile’ in regard to the kids’ endeavour, but the aborigene seem to get along with it quite easily, and besides, it is overwhelmingly beautiful, to the point when it becomes impossible to really not embrace) are never judgemental. We’ve merely reached our own physical and spiritual limits in this world, so why bother with possible others (Roeg’s The Man Who Fell to Earth is only a few years away)? To each his own? As long as we can’t adapt to other people/rites/environments, there seems to be no way out. The film still leaves enough room for interpretation though… as bittersweet as it may be.

What also really stands out is the visual aspect of the film, really pertaining as a force in itself. Beliefs in the powers of nature shared by the aborigenes are made palpable, and in stark contrast to the scarcity of dialogue. The intensity of textures, framing and light is at the utmost. A holy trinity. The 2001 of the Australian bush.

Yeah, light is life. We city creeps tend to forget it. Maybe we don’t realise it unless we get really sunburnt…

Pssss: Hey Terrence, did you ever say thanks by the way?

lohevistoclaro: Snootchie Bootchies

Wed, 06 Oct 2010 04:23:50 +0200

lohevistoclaro:

Snootchie Bootchies

PT.2_RUSH_USA_1991

Sat, 18 Sep 2010 03:43:00 +0200

Released on R1/2/3/4 DVD by MGM a long time ago.

This one went fairly under the radar and never quite got the cult following many of the late 80’s to early 90’s cop and Noir flicks acquired within a few years. Had it not starred Jason Patric and Jennifer Jason Leigh, I wonder wether MGM put it out there.

The storyline is quite simple: an undercover narc has to break in a rookie partner. Of course, the job consists in part in buying narcotics, and they to taste them. Dependancy irremediably builds and from then on, it’s nothing but everyday struggle to reclaim one’s sanity whilst the powers in place demand quick justice be made.

There are nevertheless several things that are to be said about Rush.

The film itself is no lesson in mise-en-scène. It is rather plain, still efficient and to-the-point. The main attraction is of course the raw performances of both actors, the vivid chemistry that director Lili Fini Zanuck (daughter of the nabab) establishes in the most logical yet unnerving of ways. It is blatantly exposed within the film’s first minutes: the two cops are to be partners if nothing else. They cannot work but as a couple. Upon this union lies their credibility within the milieu. Add drugs and their unavoidable effects to the equation and wait till it boils. The film is remarkable in its delicacy, especially when compared to others within the same genre. It is a slow burner and probably did not provide enough to most viewers in terms of standout sequences. So hold your expectations low regarding this. However, many will not miss any of the preposterous action sequences commonly found elsewhere. The characterisation is quite intense and the pace of the film frequently shifting, finding a superb echo in Eric Clapton’s score (some will notice that his Will Gaines theme is to be found in many action pieces during the rest of the decade, think Heat for instance).

But what seems to me of most interest here is the non-judgemental look the film offers of the drug addict. It feels very close in that respect to the early Gus Van Sant masterpiece Drugstore Cowboy, not shying away from the core of the problem, both attempts at understanding the people who will invariably end up victims of a system. The relationship the cops will be made to enforce to some members of this community is the catalyst of disaster, a power struggle that our two characters did not wish for and that will get out of hand, a logical outshoot of the effects of the moral lapidations exerted by the outside parties wihtout inner knowledge and absolutely no hindsight.

When she finally gets to clear her ideas, Jennifer Jason Leigh’s character understands the inner dialectic of a particular man:

When I think about him now, it’s like he’s a saint.

Well, this might not refer to whom you’re actually thinking about…

PT.1_SUNCHASER_USA_1996

Tue, 24 Aug 2010 22:48:00 +0200

Released on R2 DVD by Aquarelle / Seven7 in 2008.

Michael Cimino’s Sunchaser is a bold statement. A maverick piece of filmmaking, and one of the last daring explorations of the West.

It tells the story of a 16-year-old half-Navajo murderer who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer and escapes prison in order to reach a supposedly sacred land and find completion in the arms of Mother Nature. His kidnapped doctor unwillingly gets to discover the real nature of the young man.

Cimino’s œuvre has not been taken care fairly so far. That’s why there was no word to describe my excitement when the prospect of being able to discover this unpolished jewel presented itself (the film was unavailable for home viewing, except on a lousy OOP VHS). The existence of such a disc is a sufficient reason to rejoice, even though it is highly perfectible.

The fact is that no one since the Great Directors managed to film America the way Cimino did. From Thunderbolt & Lightfoot onwards lies in Cimino’s films an implied figure of incompleteness and an insatiable need to erase boundaries, quite often ericted by social codes, a tentative move away from everyday disatisfactions. At any cost.

In that respect, the characters in Sunchaser are no different from Cimino’s previous ones. The undergoing predicament here places them on the larger canvas of american outsiders so thoroughly depicted in Heaven’s Gate or The Deer Hunter, ultimately fragile people falling for the ephemeral pleasure of the illusion. Faith might be the last rampart over today’s cynicism.

The other common feature to every Cimino film stems directly from this latter consideration: why would these shadows of the American ideal strive for a life which is no longer theirs, way before the films even began? They are all expressedly discriminated, and race, social class and gender will always be their crime. It is the essence of their very lives which infuriates the antagonists, and ultimately provides the fuel of discord, misunderstanding and madness.

Sunchaser is nothing but the very turbulent kid brother of The Deer Hunter, a 90’s bravado ranging at just over 2 hours but covering just as much field as the recognized 3 hour masterpiece. It’s like Cimino saying “Hey, why wouldn’t you care about this young man? Isn’t his life deep and tortured and textured enough that the story would have to be told on a bigger scale?”

The film was quickly ridiculed, called new-age kitsch, but it holds a sincere piece of humanity that only judgemental fucked-ups won’t admit to. Time has done it right.

Do yourself a favor: watch it.

PS: no film using Esther Phillips’ What A Diff’rence A Day Makes in its soundtrack can go wrong anyway. Just saying…