Like Anna Karina's Sweater

De Mediocre De Sica

He directed 36 films, and acted in a whopping 156. He was one of the pioneers of the Italian neo-realism movement, and gave us such timeless classics as Shoeshine, The Bicycle Thief, The Garden of the Finzi-Continis, and his masterpiece, Umberto D. Yet in 1966 he delivered a messy, bloated, but occasionally funny screwball comedy with an interesting cast -- exactly the type that Filmbrain has of late been mysteriously drawn to. After the Fox, which stars Peter Sellers, Britt Ekland and Victor Mature (from a play by Neil Simon), sounds good enough on paper -- Master criminal Aldo Venucci (Sellers) escapes from prison to help retrieve a huge shipment of gold stolen from Cairo, set to arrive in a tiny fishing village. He disguises himself as a famous director (Frederico Fabrizi) and convinces the village that this is all part of a film he's directing. Victor Mature plays Tony Powell, the narcissistic but aging Hollywood star that gets suckered into appearing into Fabrizi's mock film. Things only really take off when Mature enters the film, and unfortunately that is nearly an hour into it. De Sica's direction is quite sloppy here -- at times it seems as improvised as the fake film that Fabrizi is making with the villagers. Though Sellers does a wonderful job with the Italian accent and mannerisms, he looks (and acts) as if he had little interest in the project (as was alluded to in the recent The Life and Death of Peter Sellers). Sellers is to blame for Britt Ekland's involvement in the film (they were married at the time), and though she is lovely to look at, even her Scandinavian pout can't rescue her from an abysmal performance. Victor Mature is the real highlight of the film, and whoever it was that coaxed him out of retirement to play a caricature of himself deserves a great deal of credit. He actually outshines Sellers, something few actors could ever do. The funniest moments are when De Sica is poking fun at the film industry -- including a cameo by himself (as himself) directing John Huston as Moses. There are digs at the "art" cinema of the day (Fellini, Bergman), as well as the film critics that championed them, but playfully so. (The amateurish footage shot by Fabrizi is praised by Italy's leading film critic as "the most important Italian film in 40 years!") Unfortunately, these moments are few and far between, and too much of the film is bogged down in unfunny set pieces that are desperate for a laugh. Still, with a swinging soundtrack by the inimitable Burt Bacharach, some nice supporting roles (including a permanently stressed out Martin Balsam), and a catchy theme song by The Hollies, After the Fox is a step above the countless other mid-60s bloated comedies. Rent it for Mature alone, whose performance is truly something to behold.

Crazy Love

Films that question and challenge societal norms regarding relationships, marriage, and gender roles have become increasingly popular in Korean cinema over the past few years. While some have been powerful indictments against and criticisms of the "old ways" (A Good Lawyer's Wife, Happy End), others approach the subject with a perceived profundity, but are really little more than decent romances. One such film is Yu Ha's Marriage is a Crazy Thing from 2002. A RomCom without the Com, Marriage plays out at times like a slightly more serious When Harry Met Sally, though without the irritation factor (read: Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan) and with some fairly explicit (by Korean standards) sex scenes. Opening on a lavish wedding, we meet Joon-yeong (Kam Woo-seong), English lit professor and confirmed bachelor -- he's poor, but happy, and believes that marriage always leads to complacency and infidelity. He's set up on a blind date with Yeon-hee (Um Jung-hwa), a successful interior designer who, unlike Joon-yeong, does want to get married, but only if it's financially rewarding. The two are instantly attracted to each other, and wind up spending their first night together in a hotel where they have great sex. Over time, they realize how perfect they are together, and though they fall madly and passionately in love, their respective attitudes towards marriage makes a future together an impossibility - or does it? Not wanting to give up the great sex, Yeon-hee decides to marry a very successful, yet ugly doctor. Her plan is to have a "weekend marriage" to Joon-yeong, even going so far as to buy and furnish an apartment for him. A kept man with a beautiful woman that comes over to sleep with him -- sounds like a wonderful scenario, but the couple soon learns that even a weekend marriage is rife with disagreements, spats, and jealousies. Though the film never turns melodramatic, and the characters possess a depth rarely found in such films, there's really nothing groundbreaking here. Perhaps the cultural significance of a woman doing what Yeon-hee does has greater resonance in Korea than it does here, but there's an overwhelming simplicity and obviousness to the whole thing. (As least when compared to Hong Sang-soo's The Day a Pig Fell Into the Well and Turning Gate -- two films with unfaithful wives that come off as far more plausible, and with an air of danger about them.) Yu also seems to make the mistake of confusing and/or equating feminism with sex. At the same time, the whole gender reversal at play in the film is a bit trite -- the woman as breadwinner, juggling a spouse and a lover, etc. We've seen this all before, and in many cases tied to some greater sociological/political concern (again, Happy End is a perfect example). Though Yeon-hee may be viewed as a non-conformist or rebel for being so headstrong in her decision to seek both the financial security of a husband and the physical satisfaction of a lover, the film still has at its core the rather old-fashioned idea that a woman's self-identification is only realized through the man she chooses to marry. Still, Marriage is a Crazy Thing has a lot going for it. Kam Woo-seong and Um Jung-hwa are far from the typical "meet cute" couple, and the sex scenes are far more natural (and erotic) than the choreographed nonsense found in films like Ardor. There's wonderful chemistry between the two leads, and their story is interesting enough to justify the near two-hour running time. A great Korean film it isn't, but interesting and entertaining nonetheless.

Filmbrain's Screen Capture Quiz: Round 4 -- Week 8

You can't unring a bell, junior. One of the many lines sung by Tom Waits in the often maligned and misunderstood One From the Heart, a very costly experiment by Francis Ford Coppola that is easily one of the greatest films of the 80s. Produced by Coppola himself, he was unable to find a distributor for the film, so he did the only logical thing -- rent out Radio City Music Hall for a night at his own expense. Filmbrain can vividly remember queuing up in the freezing cold with his dad and thousands of other fans while Coppola himself served us hot soup. It was an incredible night, and the experience of seeing it in such a wonderful place left a lasting impression on the teenaged cinephile. A simple story about a couple that splits up for a night (Teri Garr, she's the one in underpants, and Frederic Forrest), enhanced with narrative songs by Tom Waits and Crystal Gayle. It was shot entirely on a sound stage that recreates Las Vegas, and the camerawork by Vittorio Storaro is worth the price of admission alone (not to mention Nastassja Kinski and Harry Dean Stanton). There's a wonderful 2-DVD set out that is a must-have. Did Filmbrain mention Nastassja Kinski is in it? With all the talk of the various Star Warses this past week, Filmbrain was longing for something slightly more heady, so he popped this one in his DVD player the other night. In which Disney film will you find the scene shown below? Send your answers to this address. Good luck! [Hint: It's not really a Disney film.]

Letting Go

Seeing the final chapter in the Star Wars saga (as Filmbrain did on Friday night) was less a movie going experience than it was an act of letting go -- a closure, so to speak. And the mood amongst Filmbrain and his similar-aged friends as they sat in a Hell's Kitchen bar after the film was not one of elation or ebullience, but rather one of melancholy. When we entered into this, we were wide-eyed and pubeless; now, twenty-eight years later, we find ourselves walking away cynical and jaded. The experience of watching Revenge of the Sith is akin to finally getting over the girlfriend you loved with every inch of your soul all those years ago who dumped you for the type of guy you despise the most, one who is not only blessed with good looks and magnetic charm, but has a life full of endless good fortune, where things just literally fall into his lap without his needing to lift a finger, and though he treated her like garbage she stayed with him even when he slept with both of her sisters and you built up hopes that she would finally come back to you but she only phoned you to tell you that she was moving to Paris with the guy and she would have loved to see you one last time but wanted to spare you the pain. Or something like that. So, while Natalie Portman was lost in a sea of wooden dialog, and Hayden Christensen was doing his best to show us his inner turmoil, Filmbrain was going through a rite of passage. Star Wars and sweet youth, farewell!

First word on Tale of Cinema

Though in competition at Cannes, there has been surprisingly little written (so far) about Hong Sang-soo’s latest, Tale of Cinema. Variety doesn't have it listed in their table of reviews, ScreenDaily hasn't covered it, nor has there been a peep from Manohla Dargis, who is a big Hong supporter. (Filmbrain expected at least a brief mention in the blog Cannes Journal she and A.O. Scott are contributing to.) The only complete reviews Filmbrain has found are in French, but both seem to be fairly positive. The first one is from Le Monde, and it includes a quote from Hong that is a wonderful summary of why Filmbrain loves his films so: "Ce qui m'intéresse, dit-il, c'est d'entremêler des éléments abstraits (une situation de départ plus ou moins banale) et des éléments subjectifs, qui rejoignent le monde de l'émotion, du sentiment, du désir. Je déteste l'issue prévisible, formatée, la conclusion convenue. La plupart des cinéastes vous amènent en fin de film à des chutes que l'on a vues mille fois. Ce type de scénario me révolte. Je cherche l'inattendu, l'effet de surprise." Filmbrain's loose (and most likely bad) translation: "What interests me is to mix abstract elements (beginning with a more or less banal situation) with subjective elements which then join the world of emotion, feelings, and desire. I hate the foreseeable, formatted (?), or foregone conclusion. Most filmmakers give you an ending that you've seen a thousand times. This type of scenario revolts me. I'm looking for the unexpected, the element of surprise." The other review comes from Télérama, which seems to imply that only fans of Hong will really appreciate the film (but Filmbrain could be misreading that.) Mike D'Angelo, over at Nerve, doesn't turn in an official review, but suggests that he would personally give Hong the best screenplay award. True to its title, it's a study in the way we construct narratives from our own lives, as well as the influence movies have on our behavior -- but most of this is apparent only in retrospect. More interesting to think about afterwards than to watch, it's not the breakthrough that some had hoped for from this director -- arguably the greatest filmmaker who's never had his work distributed in the U.S. (though his previous film, the comparatively weak Woman Is the Future of Man, is apparently coming out later this year). But it's an intelligent, provocative and rather unsettling work all the same. Perhaps as the day goes on more reviews will be published, but at the moment it's seems to be lost amidst the sea of Wenders, Jarmusch, Cronenberg, etc. UPDATE: Der Spiegel magazine has a brief mention of the film in their Cannes-Tagebuch, but it's far from positive. Here's a rough translation [does contain slight spoilers!]: If there was a wooden Palme for the worst film of the festival, Amos Gitai could share this trophy with the Hong Sangsoo who, with his drama Tale of Cinema follows the footsteps of the French Nouvelle Vague so clumsily that the viewer is left with only complete confusion. Like in Free Zone, the idea is basically a good one: Hong begins with a young couple planning to commit suicide together. Later we find out that this is only the story of a student short film whose plot now repeats itself in the reality of the young filmmaker. The message is roughly: Cinema determines life, and life determines cinema. Sounds complicated? But quite the opposite is true, and the film's reliance on static pictures while completely neglecting any dynamic results in a film that is more than simple (easy) from an aesthetic point of view.

Filmbrain's Screen Capture Quiz: Round 4 -- Week 7

The love, the echoes of long ago, you needed the world to know, they are in Xanadu. Yes -- take roller-skates, Olivia Newton John, Gene Kelly, and The Tubes, then add a soundtrack by ELO, and you've got yourself one heck of a fine motion picture. As Filmbrain mentioned a few weeks back, Xanadu is truly the unsung masterpiece of the 80s. The guesses ranged from The Apple to Can't Stop the Music to Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo to Thank God It's Friday to, simply, "that movie that's popular with the gay fellows". Still, Filmbrain was surprised by how many of you managed to guess it. [To Sarah C in San Diego -- so sorry that you had Suddenly stuck in your head all day as a result of the quiz.] From the ridiculous to the sublime (sort of). Things get harder still with this week's quiz, which also happens to come from an unsung, though flawed, masterpiece. Filmbrain will be most impressed with those that can identify this wonderful shot. A note to those that pay attention to aspect ratio (and there are quite a few of you out there, as Filmbrain recently learned) -- the 1.33:1 pictured below is correct, according to the director, even though it wasn't projected that way theatrically. As it is every week, send your answers to this address. Good luck!

Marivaux in the Hood

The unlikely sensation at this year's César Awards was Abdel Kechiche's L'Esquive (Games of Love and Chance), which walked away with four major awards (including best screenplay, director, and film), beating out audience and critical faves The Chorus, A Very Long Engagement, and Arnaud Desplechin's Kings and Queen. All four awards are well deserved, for L'Esquive is easily one of the most original and vibrant films to come out of France in quite some time. Set in the banlieus outside of Paris, L'Esquive (a fencing term for dodging) offers a glimpse into the world of teenagers (most of North African heritage) who live in these projects, though it's not a tale of drugs, violence or the veil -- issues which have become synonymous with the banlieus. The polar opposite of sensationalistic films like La Haine, Kechiche instead focuses on normal teenage anxieties, though it's clear these kids are indeed affected by the world they have grown up in -- one that is marginalized by a fair percentage of the population. Opening with a shout-out to The Bronx, the film follows the trials and tribulations of a group of high-school students who (when not shouting at each other) are preparing for a production of Marivaux's play Le Jeu de l'amour et du hasard. Though there isn't much in way of a plot, it does tell of the ill-fated non-romance between Krimo, a shy, awkward boy, and the blond-haired blue-eyed hellcat that is Lydia (César winner Sara Forestier), who Krimo falls in love with as soon as he lays eyes on her, resplendent as she is in her 18th century dress. The first thing one notices about the film is the language -- aggressive, violent, and heavily peppered with slang -- nearly every sentence contains some variant of Putain vas y nique ta mère, and is often punctuated with an inch'Allah. (Whoever did the subtitles must have had a hell of a time finding English equivalents for most of the slang.) Some have criticized Kechiche for this, claiming that the endless barrage of threats and vulgarities is too highly exaggerated. Yet class issues are at the heart of the film, and the inclusion of the Marivaux play results in some interesting parallels. Le Jeu de l'amour et du hasard (Games of Love and Chance) is a comedy of errors about masters and servants changing places, yet unlike many of his contemporaries, Marivaux created characters from the lower class that are as psychologically complex as those of the privileged class -- something Kechiche feels is still lacking in many contemporary portraits of France's minorities, where the focus is often on whether or not they have successfully integrated into French life. The language of the kids may be violent, but it's presented in L'Esquive as a genuine code of communication, and one that hides their fears and fragilities. Completely structured around language, the film (mostly) consists of lengthy argument scenes that hardly seem scripted at all. (The hand-held camera and almost constant close-ups give the film a documentary feel.) Whether discussing the play or the status of a relationship, these kids really know how to lay into each other, and each scene is positively breathtaking in its display of unbridled teenage aggression. Their argot naturally provides a sharp contrast to the language of Marivaux, which proves to be too impenetrable for Krimo, whose interest in the play was an excuse to get close to Lydia. The film's greatest strength is the performance by Forestier -- raw, savage, and feisty, Lydia is a bundle of energy who can unleash a string of expletives for ten minutes, and in a flash become a proper 18th century Mademoiselle. Though shouting for most of the film, she never once overdoes it, and her performance is so incredibly natural that it's a bit disconcerting at times. This is a performance of rare quality, and it will be interesting to see how her career develops. Easily one of the best films of 2005, L'Esquive breathes new life into the somewhat tired youth-in-the-hood genre, and Kechiche approaches the material with a sensitivity and humanism that is too often lacking. Though the threat of violence is ever-present (and escape from police harassment an impossibility), he steadfastly refuses to portray the kids as victims, and the end result is a film that is neither preachy nor didactic, but is remarkably powerful in its simplicity.

Like Anna Karina's Eyeshadow, Dress, Rifle, Bathrobe. . .

Apologies for the image-heavy post, but Filmbrain is so completely over the moon with this new Jean-Luc Godard box set that he felt he had to share how wonderful the transfers look. (Not to mention an excuse to fill the page with some smashing pics of this site's patron saint.) In a comment left earlier this week, the Cinetrix was curious to hear about the quality of Made in U.S.A. Like her, Filmbrain's sole experience with the film was the shoddy 16mm print at The Anthology Film Archives, and he assumed that the dull, washed out, fuzzy look was by design. The DVD reveals just how gorgeous and lush Godard's second color feature actually is.

Even more impressive is the transfer of Pierrot Le Fou, as the following shots reveal. Taking a cue from DVD Beaver (a godsend of a site), Filmbrain thought he would compare the new release to the old Region 1 Fox Lorber release. The bottom picture does just that, and it shows how criminally bad the R1 release is -- the image is cropped and/or zoomed, the colors way off, etc. If you own a region-free DVD player, you need this, you want this, you gotta have this. True, the subtitles are unremovable, and there are no extras whatsoever, but we're talking over three hours of Anna Karina for a (somewhat) reasonable price. (Filmbrain will report on Prenom Carmen just as soon as he gets a chance to watch it.)

Filmbrain's Screen Capture Quiz: Round 4 -- Week 6

It was the bit of yellow dress that gave it away, huh? Must have been, for only a few of you failed to identify Shelley Duvall's badass Pinto from Robert Altman's 1977 masterpiece, 3 Women. (Interestingly enough, there were quite a few guesses of California Split, Nashville, A Perfect Couple, and Dr. T and the Women -- perhaps the shot has a certain Altman-esque quality to it?) The quizzes are going to begin getting harder now -- in other words, Filmbrain hopes to stump both Aaron H and Mr. Esoteric Rabbit himself (as well as the rest of you that are batting a thousand at the moment.) Of the many films that feature guys playing girl-guitar, none is better than the one pictured below. Name the film, and for a bonus point, hum any part of the soundtrack in a public place. As usual, send your answers to this address. Good luck!

A heavenly (yet costly) Tuesday

As far as "new release" Tuesdays go, 10 May might very well be one of the best ever. For years, Elia Kazan's A Face in the Crowd has hovered near the top of Filmbrain's "needs-to-be-on-DVD" list, and the day has finally arrived where his dream becomes reality. Though available as a separate DVD, it is included as one of the discs in an outstanding box set entitled The Controversial Classics Collection -- a must-own. Priced around $50, it contains seven groundbreaking American films that dared to address serious social and political issues. Besides the Kazan film, there is the 1932 attack on the criminal justice system, I Am a Fugitive From a Chain Gang, Fritz Lang's brilliant take on mob justice, Fury, the sexual and racial tensions of an inner city school that is The Blackboard Jungle, the hidden secrets of a small town exposed in Bad Day at Black Rock, the political mudslinging of Advise and Consent, and the Paddy Chayefsky-scripted anti-war satire The Americanization of Emily. While not all are masterpieces, the screenplays for all seven contain some of the strongest writing to ever come out of Hollywood, and are the kind of films that would never get green-lit by today's "high concept" standards. (A Face in the Crowd is Filmbrain's second favorite screenplay of all time. If you haven't seen it, buy or rent it today -- you'll never think of Andy Griffith the same way again. . .)

Also being released today are the first two features from this year's Cannes Jury President, Emir Kusterica -- Do You Remember Dolly Bell? and When Father Was Away on Business (winner of the 1985 Palme D'Or). While neither is as good as the still-unavailable Time of the Gypsies, they offer the opportunity to see the director working on a much smaller (and more personal) scale. A slightly guilty pleasure, Jacques Demy's Donkey Skin is the third in a trilogy of Catherine Deneuve - Michel Legrand musicals. Kind of like a fever dream, this highly saturated tale of incest and a donkey that defecates gold simply has to be seen to be believed. Fun for the whole family! The Criterion release of Les Blank's Burden of Dreams, which chronicles the chaos surrounding the production of Werner Herzog's Fitzcarraldo is made even better by the inclusion of Werner Herzog Eats His Shoe, a wonderful short about a bet that Herzog loses to Errol Morris and....well, the title says it all. Probably the best "making of" documentary of all time, Burden of Dreams is as dramatic as the film it is documenting (if not more). And finally, for the region-free set, there is a beautiful UK release of three films by Jean-Luc Godard, the second of hopefully many such volumes. This one contains Pierrot le Fou, the rarely seen Made in U.S.A., and the 80s classic Prénom Carmen. (These are VAST improvements over the Region-1 Fox Lorber releases of Pierrot and Carmen!) Stacked neatly in a pile in front of him, Filmbrain wonders if he'll ever find the time to watch them all. . .