Elliot's Watching Week of 4/4/21: Borgen, Tavernier, Marx Brothers

 Some years back we watched w/great interest the first season of House of Cards and then, looking for another great series on political life, we went to the Danish series Borgen (which I’m almost sure translates as “The Castle,” which maybe is how Danes ID their parliament building?) and found it - at least based on the first episode - incredibly confusing and a lot of talk about small doings and deals, as the new aspirate for the (first Danish) Prime Minister negotiates with numerous splinter parties hard to keep straight to build a coalition for governance. Time has gone by and House of Cards over these years became increasingly absurd and improbable - couldn’t even watch the final season - and people continue to recommend Borgen, so we gave it another look and, yes, the first episode still was difficult to follow, but over the course of the 10 episodes of Season 1 (of 3) the series developed a credible and intriguing set of political (and personal) decisions most of them involving governance w/ the minuscule majority - but also decisions about media coverage - all of which seemed quite accurate to me, based on my 40+ years experience in media and governance - as well as various family tensions and pressures, which also - though I have no direct experience here thang God - seemed realistic. The series is highly engaging, thoughtful, and through-provoking w/out being condescending or over-the top. Yes, the Danish Parliament is not on the same scale of world events as the White House and U.S. Capitol - but in a way that makes it more fresh and fruitful sounds for new material and perspectives. Definitely looking forward to 2 more seasons. 

After nearly a century (!), the Marx Brothers’ Duck Soup (1933) is still laugh-out-loud hilarious and a weirdly prescient, apocalyptic look at a world on the brink of war devolving into complete and utter chaos. It’s not a film meant as a social commentary, but the message is still there: The world is full of crackpots and weirdos who, once they get their hands on power and authority, are likely to destroy all that they touch. The story line:  the kingdom of Fredonia (what seems to be a small, Eastern European country) is nearly bankrupt and the great benefactor - played to the hilt by the great Margaret Dumont - will loan the treasury $20 million of her inheritance if they will appoint her choice - Groucho, playing Rufus T. Firefly - as the new leader. And off we go - as Groucho imposes his will and tangles w/ two “spies,” Chico and Harpo, hired by the opposition to get the dirt on Groucho. Great scenes and great quips - mostly put-downs - reign from beginning to end: Chico and Harpo’s utter destruction of a noisome peanut vendor, the spy report to the would-be usurper (I think we been following the wrong guy!), Groucho’s leering commons to the wealthy Dumont, and of course the famous “mirror” scene, plus many other moments before the world explodes. Is the film dated? Sure, in some ways: Groucho’s put-downs of women are at times uncomfortable, and too bad a remark about “darkies” can’t be edited out, and Chico’s Italian-American schtick is off-putting. But in the end, their targets are the stuffed shirts, the corrupt, the humorless, the bullies, and the self-regarding - and all those who get in their way (including at times themselves) and who richly deserve his ire and his barbs. Worth watching it for the “trial” alone (“What’s a big gray animal with a long trunk?”). Note also that the Criterion Channel has a 23-minute collection of home movies from Harpo’s family, narrated lovingly by his son. 

Bertrand Tavernier’s film The Clockmaker of St. Paul (1974) is a bit of a curiosity today - the plot itself, based on a novel by Georges Simenon (who wrote some 500!) seems pretty thin and illogical, particularly to American viewers whose understanding of the processes of the judicial system differ greatly from that of the French - but you have to give Tavernier his props from creating a cop film that’s just plain beautiful to watch, start to finish. The creaky plot - the eponymous clockmaker is shocked to learn that his only son is a suspect in a murder investigation, and even more shocked that his son is on the run and has rejected all of his efforts to help (he is bolstered in his struggle by one close friend and by a highly sympathetic police detective) - just never seems quite right and we can never quite comprehend his son’s motives or why he has become such a pariah, let alone why he, a sweet and temperate young man, would shoot another to death. But to his T’s credit, the plot does move along nicely and in the process we get an almost documentary look, a time capsule if you will, of a French city (Lyons) off the tourist radar, ca 1970 - a look at the buildings, the riverfront, the neighborhoods, the countryside, and various iconic spots in town, notably the minuscule airport and the ancient cathedral with its strange mechanical clock. So, even though I figuratively raised my eyebrows at a few points in the film - would people really behave this way? - at other points I felt drawn right into the city and its culture, especially the omnipresent French passion for great food - and not just for the super-rich. The animated friendly conversation among 6 or so buddies, including the clockmaker, at the outset of the film establishes the clockmaker and his venue quite well - it could almost be mistaken for a Pennebaker or Weistman documentary of its era. 4/10/21