Movies don't have to fill in every blank space

"35 Shots of Rum" (35 Rhums) is one of those movies that got no distribution, little notice, and few reviews, though the reviews were all positive, and with good reason. It's another in the line of recent low-budget European indies that focus on ordinary, generally workingclass, people and their lives and struggles - in this case, a black community in the Paris exurbs. The protagonist, Lionel, is a Paris Metro driver (is his name meant to be whimsical?), lives with his 20ish daughter, who's very devoted to him, but who needs to be independent and find her own life. Pretty much the only other characters are the daughter (Jo)'s boyfriend, Noe, and Gabrielle, a taxi driver who's really interested in Lionel - but he's not that into her. They all live in the same modest highrise. BTW: Great, beautiful shots of the Paris Metro, many from the motorman's viewpoint. It's a very simple, quiet movie - much less action and tension than in the more plot-driven works in the same vein (e.g., Revanche, L'enfant, Cache, 4 Days....), much more interior, more focused on personality, and it leaves a lot between the lines, including the ending comes abruptly and remains somewhat ambiguous. But movies are powerful enough - they don't have to fill in every blank space, they can sometimes work best if they make us think and come toward them, figuring stuff out for ourselves. 35 Shots (by Claire Denis) takes on people and issues and feelings that have fallen way outside the scope of commercial films, and even outside the scope of American indies, which cover a much narrower social and demographic range than the Europeans do. They may not be the greatest of the recent European films - maybe at times too subtle for its own good, and it veers offcourse in the the visit to Germany - but, if you haven't noticed, helped by the easy accessibility of DVDs, we're in the midst of a new new wave of great European films.

A nasty little film that somehow got good reviews

"An Education" is a nasty little film that, surprisingly, got some very positive reviews, mainly, I think, because of the strong performance of Carrie (?) Milligan, who is great but a bit too old for the part of a 16-year-old. I also think the Brits will tolerate anything as long as it's set 50 or more years ago (this set in 1961), and Americans remain complete suckers for British accents and will accept the most odious behavior if cloaked in an Oxbridge mumble. Yes, I realize that An Education is based on a memoir, so the bones of the story are probably true, which does not excuse the way the story is conveyed in this film. First of all, it's scripted by Nick Hornby, so we know from the start it will wend its way toward some whimsical, feel-good, probably unearned conclusion. Second, there is no way on earth that a girl like Milligan would fall for the older man (Peter Saarsgaard) and his crew of liars and thieves - and even less likely that her parents would be taken in for two seconds by his act, that they would not be appalled by his obvious criminal exploitation of their daughter. If the movie had a shred of honesty, it would portray Milligan's character as a deeply troubled and rebellious teen, a vulnerable young woman (as in the novel Amy & Isabelle, for one recent example). And - though the film does show that Saarsgaard is a liar and a petty criminal, which should be immediately apparent to every other character, by the way - it never gets the right balance of making him credibly attractive to Milligan but repulsive to everyone else. There's an undercurrent in the movie that seems to say, yes, youthful rebellion like hers can really be a lark, especially when your parents are clueless and your teachers are uptight harridans of the worst sort - who wouldn't rebel? - and it will all come out right in the end. Guess what? It usually won't.

The story behind the story of Brief Encounter

"Brief Encounter" (David Lean, via Noel Coward) makes a lot of "best film" lists, and it's still 55 years later, very classy, classic almost, though it also feels kind of strained and stagy. Story, from a Coward play, man and woman meet at a train station, then cross paths in town, by chance (not quite - he, a doctor, pushes himself toward her it seems) they have lunch together, then begin a little flirtation, then fall in love - but each is married, with children. We know nothing of his domestic life, but she to all appearances is happily married to a sweet but rather dull man. It's clear, or seems to be, that she and the doc would be very happy - one of those horrible accidents of fate, both that they hadn't met earlier and also that they now have met when it's too late - but who knows? It's kind of easy to have fun when you're dangerously flirting with each other, playing hooky from work, going to the movies and for boat rides - in short, when you have none of the responsibilities of life, family, work, which can make the rest of your life seem drab and demanding. In other words, it wouldn't have lasted. What makes it strong is that they both seem to realize this, and they depart, never to see each other again, and return to their responsibilities and obligations - but, with a great deal of sorrow and longing. I can't be the only one to see this story, today, as a cryptic story about a repressed homosexual passion, can I? If it were to be remade today, I think it could be much more powerful if it were about two married men who fell for each other. (A brief Brokeback Mountain.) It's kind of interesting to look at 1945 Britain, the crowded streets, the old cars, the ugly heavy clothes - and the million trains. Such an unromantic setting for a romantic drama - that's what makes it powerful still, in its odd way.

Agnes Varda's unconventional memoir: art among the trash

Agnes Varda is an acquired taste, I guess, or maybe some love her work right from the start. I'm not a huge fan, but she's different and quirky and her films will hold your interest and attention, even if sometimes leaving you, or me, totally puzzled. "The Beaches of Agnes" is her memoir of a sort, an attempt to tell her life story through film, but in her typically quirky and whimsical and unconventional manner. The most striking elements are the many imaginative, almost surreal compositions that she creates, made all the more sharp by her continually playing with frames: the frame of the movie, most of all, in that we see her directing her own film and often even see the camera crew at work, and also the use of frames, and the long and fascinating opening sequences, filmed on a French beach, using mirrors and frames arranged in the sand, to break up and reorganize the images. But this isn't an "art" film in the boring arthouse sense; she is trying, in her fashion, to tell a story, of a young girl (herself) growing up in wartime France, on the water (obviously, a constant theme) - she visits childhood sites and pointedly does not experience any Proustian revelations, that's pretty funny! - uses clips from her man films, travels to places she had lived and worked, tells of her children, most of all of her life with Jacques Demy, the director, and of his death 20 years ago from AIDS (not explained), and the sorrow she felt but her eager spirit as she goes on, still directing a lot at 80+, good for her! It's not a film with any true narrative arc, nor is it meant to be. Paradoxically, though it is very "directed" or composed, you learn more about Varda by indirection, but just picking up what a creative and whimsical character she is, always thinking and seeing things differently, as you also would see if you watch her The Gleaners and I. She enjoys hanging around in flea markets and it's obvious - she finds art among the trash.

Flying off to Reno, as Mad Men Season 3 concludes

The 3rd season of "Mad Men" ends on two entirely different "notes." One the one hand: as an ad conglomerate is about to buy out Sterling-Cooper the corps team (most of the main characters in the firm, but not all) put together a surreptitious plan to leave and start their own firm, at first operating out of a hotel suite. It's kind of unlikely, and kind of fun - they're like kids in one of the old movies - Let's put on a show! - and also a bit like the 7 Samurai, selecting one by one the perfect members of the team. On the darker note, not only does Ice Queen Betsy tell Don she wants a divorce and forces him to leave the house (and kids), she appears to be going through with it, heading off to Nevada at the end, baby in her lap, with her new beau (Henry Francis, the governor's aide) alongside her. I suppose it's possible they will marry in season 4, but can this last? Can either one of them be serious? Obviously he's attracted to her - he's not the only guy who is, if you like that type - but they've said hardly a word to each other, just gone through a telephone flirtation and a few brief meetings, in mostly public venues. I guess people have gotten married impulsively and foolishly before, on a wing and a prayer, but this seems pretty ridiculous and out of character, especially for Betsy. Anyway, final episode of the season mostly a plot wrap-up, though it effectively sets up some good situations to develop in Season 4. At least the likable Sal will probably get his job back!

The death of a president darkens Mad Men

I was wrong, but kinda right. I knew that Season 3 of "Mad Men" was heading toward a denouement, which I thought would culminate in the Kennedy assassination, but it happens that the assassination occurs in episode 12, the penultimate. Though one of us thought this was among the most powerful episodes, I have to disagree. I think the Kennedy assassination, so troubling and dramatic, dominates the show. I was far more interested in seeing the many news clips, which they cleverly play on the old b/w TVs with the ever-annoying "vertical hold" issue, who remembers that?, disturbing the images, ever in the background. That's what I wanted to watch, the old film clips - makes you realize what a different world we're in now, the newsmen then all rumpled and the information moving so slowly and no visuals or backgrounds or news crawls or logos or anything that glows in the dark today. Strangely, this made the whole hi-def set of Mad Men look much more contemporary, a jarring effect. In this episode, focused on the disastrous wedding of Roger Sterling's daughter (ill timed), Betsy tells Don she doesn't love him, she's even colder than usual, just as he seems (somewhat) chastened and maybe willing to become a good father and husband. But she's driving him away, and again wrestling with her attraction to the governor's adviser. Meanwhile, Peggy continues her relation with the hateful Duck, Pete Campbell passed over for a promotion and extremely bitter (I actually begin to like him for a moment), and what ever happened to poor Sal? Increasingly, I begin to think that, with the exception of Don, the Mad Men have better wives (or ex-wives) than they deserve.

Don Draper Cries (and the world does not end)

At last Betsy Draper confronts Don about his secret past in a great scene, one of the longest and by far the most intense in the entire "Mad Men" series. The scene is amazingly well set up, as Don swings by the house with new girlfriends (Suzanne) waiting in the car - he thinks Betsy and the kids are away - and when he steps in Betsy unloads on him in her steely way. Through the whole confrontation, we can't (Don can't either) stop thinking about the girl outside in the car, like a ticking time bomb. But the real time bomb is inside. Don is truly shaken, trembling, needs a drink, very well acted by the usually too stolid John Hamm. Alomst the entire scene as Don confesses to Betsy all (or many) of the secrets of his past shot in dimly lit close up - the intensity of the two of them is almost unbearable, terrific. Don shows emotion we had never seen in him before. In a way, so does Betsy, moving from fury to a moment, just a moment of sympathy and pity, as she puts a hand on his shoulder. Maybe Don is ready to move on to a new level, to become a (again?) a new man - and yet, and yet - what happens the next morning but he slams shut his office door and calls Suzanne to apologize. He won't, can't, give her up. He's saved by one thing - that she's worried about losing her teaching job - so it's unlikely that she'll pull a Fatal Attraction and burst into his life (I'd earlier thought she would do that). Don is still a deeply troubled man, and one evening of curt and clipped confessions to the ice queen will not change him. Meanwhile, Joanie's marriage seems doomed - can we imagine her as an army doctor's wife? Not hardly.

The gap between Don & Betsy is now a chasm: Two Nasty People

Though I'm not nuts about the complex plot line in "Mad Men" that explores Don Draper's mysterious past, it is a ticking time bomb that eventually will have to explode, and the ticking gets louder in episode 10 of Season 3, as Betsy discovers that box in which Don (improbably?) retains revelatory documents: a divorce certificate, dog tags, childhood pictures. Don - now fully engaged in yet another affair and betrayal, this time with the hot young elementary-school teacher, who will inevitably bring him Fatal Attraction-like trouble - is oblivious to Betsy's discovery, or basically to anything about Betsy. Granted, she's so cold all the time it's hard for anyone to know when she might be angry. But eventually she's going to have to tell him what she's found and ask for an explanation. She still seems weirdly drawn to the gubernatorial advisor - calling him out of the blue, then feeling guilty - and we have to suspect she will throw herself at him eventually. She will want to get back at Don for sure. Less happening at the ad agency this episode, with some of the main characters not appearing at all. But we do learn that the Brits are trying to sell Sterling-Cooper. All told, a quieter episode than some, but a lot of tension is building, as the gap between Don and Betsy widens into a chasm. You keep wanting to like one or the other of them, but they keep betraying your hopes at every turn - they're two nasty people who maybe deserve each other. Don even getting more nasty at work, bullying his staff and curt with everyone else.

This film is better than the book, though both are disturbing

I can pretty safely say I will never read Steig Larssen's Girl who Played with Fire, and I wish I'd never read "Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" because I would have liked the movie more if I hadn't read the book. Even so, I liked the movie much more than I liked the book - it's tense and atmospheric and moves along crisply and efficiently, even at 2+ hours. Why is that? First, in a movie, with time compressed and your consciousness so fully engaged, you're far less likely to question or even notice the gaping, almost ludicrous, improbabilities of the plot. In both novel and film, for example, you have to accept that the Swedish police are the most incompetent investigators on the planet and that two amateur sleuths could uncover clues that had gone unseen for 40 years. You have to accept an extraordinary string of improbabilities - a string of tiny encoded hints - that lead to the conclusion. You have not not question the likelihood of a 40-year series of hideous crimes going undetected on a tiny island and the likelihood of the central character remaining in hiding for basically her entire life. Etc. Trust me, these things bother you less in the movie. Second reason the film is better: the book was cumbersome, but the film (Oplev?, the director), makes smart decisions: main character Bloomqvist has only one intimate relation (not 3); they devise a much more clever way to bring Bloomkvist and Salander together, they improve the highly unlikely episode when Bloomkvist finds the torture chamber, and the smooth the edges of the conclusion (Salander does not toss the incriminating evidence into the sea). All that said, though the film is less polemical and self-righteous about violence against women, I had the uneasy feeling in both reading and watching that the story does nothing to raise consciousness on this issue, in fact it exploits the issue. By dwelling on the most lurid, violent, and grotesque incidents of violence (which inevitably are more disturbing on film than in the novel), Dragon Tattoo has almost the reverse effect: Oh, that's what violence against women is about, well we don't have to worry about that, those guys are truly insane - when in fact the true perpetrators are the everyday guys who have one too many beers and slap their wives/girlfriends around. That's the true horror story.

It's powerful - but can you watch it?

We started watching "Tarnation" and it took only about 20 minutes (23 I think to be exact) before we gave up - the movie sounded promising, and many have liked it, but not for me. Chouatte's film, a documentary about his schizophrenic mother and disturbed family and his own troubles and grieving, using lots of collected footage from home movies, seemed to be in the tradition of a few other films I've liked, e.g., Finding the Friedmans, Dear Zachary, that one about the family in which the father remarries late in life... - but this one so dark and in a way over the top, with at times just way too much film effect, quick cuts and dissolves, millions of steps to dress up the otherwise mundane look of home movies (he should have let the images alone, let them speak for themselves), and other sections told almost entirely by words on screen. It's a feat, I guess, an assemblage, a collage or mosaic about a ruined life - but despite its strengths there's no remove, no perspective on the material. A critique could be that the director is too close to the material, and of course that's his point - but I'm not sure that makes it watchable for most viewers, at least not for me. Unlike some of the other documentaries about family breakdowns, there is (intentionally) no mystery here. We get the facts right up front, we see the disturbed mother in the first clip and quickly learn her back story, so we feel great pity for her and for Chouatte (sp?), but limited interest and engagement. I was not surprised that Gus Van Sant was a producer - his overly engaged film stay (Elephant, Paranoid Park) is a big influence here. I prefer more simple and direct statements, in all forms of art.

Marriage on the verge of incineration (Mad Men)

Everyone's either on thin ice, in hot water, or playing with fire, to use three cliches to describe the terrific 9th episode of Season 3 of "Mad Men." Don now literally being tormented by the increasingly lunatic Conrad Hilton, calling him at all hours with crazy ad ideas and ripping Don apart because he didn't create an ad campaign about a Hilton on the moon. Don will whore himself for any wealthy client, they all will, but it's got to tear him up inside; there's also a real father-son thing going on between these two. Meanwhile, another wealthy client comes on to the closeted and repressed Sal, and when Sal rebuffs him the client wants Sterling Cooper to fire Sal. Amazingly, they do - Don shows he's homophobic, not a surprise, I guess, given the time, but his cruelty to Sal shows once again his nasty streak. Meanwhile, Betsy continues to flirt with the gubernatorial aide, she's obviously not sure what she wants, on the one hand writing notes to him, visiting his office, and then pushing him away, accusing him. It's almost as if she wants Don to catch her, and maybe he will. This episode more than any so far simmers with sexual tension - every marriage on the show looks to be on the verge of incineration, every main character seems bent on self-destruction. Meanwhile, news reports keep leaking in at the seams of the story: civil rights demonstrations, the Goldwater v. Rockefeller primary. My prediction is that the season will end with the news of the Kennedy assassination.

Men (Mad Men) behaving badly

A quiet episode of "Mad Men" Season 3, in which the tensions lie below the surface. Very little in this episode takes place at the Sterling Cooper office. It's August, everyone (pre-ac) is hot and edgy. Main story line for this episode: Pete is home alone for August, as Trudy is off with her wealthy parents at some beach resort. He cooks for himself, watches TV (cartoons - and he laughs, he does have a sweet side it seems!), we begin to like and feel sorry for him, and then he hits on the au pair next door, obviously taking advantage of her, practically raping her in fact (we don't see it - this is broadcast TV). Au pair's boss tells Pete to leave the girl alone (he's as hard and unfeeling a Pete - he just doesn't want to lose a good employee), and Pete sheepishly welcomes Trudy home: don't go away without me again. He can't trust himself to be alone. A glimmer of hope there? He wants to be a better husband, maybe. Meanwhile, Don is trying to be better - takes Betsy with him on a business trip to Rome. Their behavior is odd and sensational. She gets herself done up as a Vio Veneta streetwalker, obviously enjoying the attention of some Italian guys. Don sidles up to the table, plays along as if he's picking her up. This rekindles their relationship - or does from his POV. He give her a gift of jewelry back home. But the ever-cold Betsy remains oddly indifferent and snappish. Did she enjoy playing the hooker a little too much? She's still thinking about that gubernatorial aide - though she pushed him off when he tried to get her alone. There's a great deal of anger in Betsy. Will it ever be unleashed?

Just as Don Draper was becoming more likable ...

"Mad Men" Season 3 episode 7 has an unusual structure for this series, opening with takes on three of the characters: Peggy in bed with a guy, in the morning; Betsy Draper alone and rubbing her hands along her things, lounging, in a summer dress; Don on the floor of a motel room, with a broken nose. Then we go back and see how these three story lines developed (though in this episode they don't converge). This episode, however, despite the intriguing structure, pushes probability a little too far: would Peggy really hop into the sack with the odious Duck, of all people? Would Don be so foolish and self-destructive as to let himself get rolled by two punks? Yes, he is self-destructive, but no fool. Betsy the most credible of the group - she has a brief meet with the gubernatorial aide who'd hit on her at a party, asking for his support for some Junior League conservation project (stop the water tower in Ossining). Obviously they both wanted the meeting to see what sparks would kindle. He leaves her, nothing happens - but she goes back home and has strong yearnings. It's at least the third time she's had these feelings - she's the original desperate housewife - but it will be interesting to see if she acts on them, if she can be as horrible to Don as he has been to her. And by the way, just as it looked as if Don was becoming a more sympathetic character, now in this episode he's mean and condescending toward Betsy and totally nasty to Peggy - driving them both to their own destructive behaviors. It's catching.

Is there a soft side to Don Draper? (Mad Men)

Sixth episode of "Mad Men" Season 3 is very strong and unusual, with the each of the multiple plot lines taking an interesting turn. As the British owners arrive to review Sterling-Cooper (and, as we learn, to try to fire their manager, Price), Joan resigns as she expects her worthless husband to become chief resident (we don't). Nothing works out as expected. The British arrival perpetrates a serious accident in the office, and all the plans change - leaving Price in charge and very bitter. It's obvious that he will turn against his British owners, who tried to ship him off to Bombay. Joan's husband comes home drunk and disappointed, and she's going to have to renege on her resignation and go back to work - they'll need the money. Does not bode well for her, however. Don, meanwhile, becoming a real family man, much more comforting and soothing to daughter, Sally, who is disturbed by death of her grandfather and arrival of baby brother. Is there a soft side to Don Draper? A likable character at last! He's also being courted for a new job by Conrad Hilton; though we know he won't leave, that will be interesting to watch. Strikes me that the series has more or less given up on the story line of Don's confused background, his false identity, his horrible parents - and for the better. That was a creaky and improbable plot element, and it's wise to let that fade away and just deal with Draper as an ambitious and troubled ad exec who's incapable of fidelity.

Don't worry, I won't tell you what happens to Neil (The Up Series)

The Up Series, now pushing 60 - and I'm catching "up," last night watched 42-up. Though this blog contains many spoilers, I will not give away here what happens to Neil, who has become the obvious megastar of this series, the reason we keep watching. The series is an amazing document of the life of an entire generation (of Brits), in some ways obviously fulfilling its starting premise - the lives of the British born ca 1950 are entirely predetermined by their social class - and in some ways disproving the premise. Over time, yes, we've seen clearly that none of the subjects, first interviewed at age 7 and then every 7 years thereafter, has completely left his or her class, but there are dramatic surprises in personality, softening of some of them, troubled youths becoming relatively ok adults, with the exception of Neil. It's also very striking that every one of the impoverished east end kids has moved into much nicer housing, even the struggling single mom has done so. We see from that the era of prosperity in Britain, brief though it was, provided a lot of opportunity for many - but then we see what the East End is like today - entirely populated by a new wave of immigrants, and you wonder what their lives will be like, how they will change England and how England will change them. The series itself is suffering a bit under its own weight - because Michael Apted wants/needs each film to stand alone, as we get father along there is so much backgound material he has to cover for each subject that by "42 Up" we get little new material at age 42 (it the film is still +2 hours); also, the relative different in age diminishes as they subjects age - for some there's not a dramatic difference from 35 to 42.

Mad Men and Race

Fifth episode of Season 3 of "Mad Men" is a bit slower-paced than most, and somewhat less tense. Betsy delivers a baby boy - that's main plot development. She names him Eugene, after her father, and apparently against Don's wishes - so are we setting up for a son that Don will be cold to, as Betsy is to her older children? At the office, Don being pressured by the Brits to cut corners and save money. As a result, he refuses to give Peggy a raise. Peggy is being recruited by old Season 2 smoothie and screw-up, Duck, now at another firm (and on the wagon). Obviously she won't go, but things are not going well at Sterling Cooper. Pete Campbell almost loses the Admiral TV account by suggesting that they target advertising toward "negroes." Racial issues are nipping at the heels of this story: references to the assassination of Medgar Evers (which have upset Sally Draper), a tense conversation in the elevator, during which Pete asks the elevator "boy" what kind of TV he has and why. The "boy" is too proud to answer. Don does not do much in this episode. He has a long conversation with a guy, a prison guard, in the waiting room. It's odd that they pass in the corridor later and don't greet each other. More significant, Sally's teacher, Miss Farrell, whom Don has been eying, calls the house to apologize for something she said at a meeting, an obvious pretext to talk to Don. Something's going to be happening there, but we're not sure what. Will somebody please think about the welfare of the kids, for five minutes?