Elliot's Watching December 2021 - Sunset Boulevard, Eclipse, Hand of God, Children of Paradise, Succession, Landscapes, et al.

 Elliot’s Watching - December 2021

The Billy Wilder classic Sunset Boulevard (1950) holds up really well after all these years - the retro look that, say, 30 years ago looked quaint and out of date now adds to the beauty of this film, a hard-boiled narrative with not a surprise ending but a surprise beginning of all things. It’s a lot of fun watching William Holden get caught in the web of “Norma Desmond” (Gloria Swanson), a star from the silent era now pushed aside by the completely different skills and demands of the “talkies.” Her over the top performance is great - we’re repulsed by her bossiness and sense of privilege, we’re astonished by her lack of insight (and charm), yet we feel sorrow for her and her pathetic attempts to revive her career. Cecil B Demille, playing himself, does a brilliant turn as a kindly director who feels sorrow and pity for the diminished Swanson; there are other Hollywood cameos of the era (or earlier), including a surprise appearance by Buster Keaton (and Swanson herself does a good Chaplin impersonation. Holden is cruel and manipulative, but we feel sorrow for him as well, used onto the margins of Hollywood because of his own real but limited talent as a would-be screenwriter. All told, the film moves right along, and we go along, too - right to the gruesome and weird conclusion, where we all pause to look at the wreckage. 

The Torquil Jones documentary (on Netflix), 14 Peaks (2021) is worth watching if you’re into films about (mostly) guys who take incredible risks involving surfing, diving, hiking, free climbing, or as in this case scaling huge mountain peaks. There are moments of incredibly frightening footage involving injuries and white-outs as we follow Nepalese climber Nurmal Punjab leading an all-Nepalese/Sherpa team in a quest to scale the 14 +2,000-meter peaks in  months. (I always remember the Mad Mag spoof that suggested the Nat Geo photogs who take the pictures deserve all the accolades.) The quest itself is egocentric and in some ways cruel; I’m just not into these stunts that put not only the leader but the whole support team at great risk. Nurms’s quest is in some ways political - the first all-Sherpa team giving credit where its due - but for all that we learn little about anyone else on the climbs other than Nurms. Moreover, he/they never seem to appreciate the beauty of the mountains - they’re just objects to “conquer.” Still, you can chalk this up alongside 100-foot Wave if this type of adventure rings your bell.

Chris Marker’s 1982 film, Sans Soleil (Sunless), is built on 90 or  so minutes of Marker’s fantastic photograph, an incredibly visually interesting and complex visual study of street life and iconography most in Japan though some in Africa; scenes as diverse as street theater, department stores, pinball arcades, zoos, long train rides with most passengers asleep, all of which work together and give a portrait of developing and developed countries far from Europe (not sure the dates of the actual footage, though suspect some of it from well before 1982). Unfortunately, though, by about an hour into this 90+-minute film I felt I’d had enough; there’s no narrative line of shape to encompass these phots and film clips, and the voiceover narration - recited by a woman who supposedly received these images along with messages from CM - seem to go nowhere and by 60 minutes just feel obtrusive, and I bailed out. Got the picture. 

Going against the consensus here but I found Jane Campion’s “Western,” The Power of the Dog, (filmed in NZ?) to be largely unwatchable: The characters are drawn with such a heavy hand that nothing they say or do makes any sense.We’ve got here a cross between East of Eden and Brokeback Mountain, and the basic arc of the story is a preposterous tragic relationship between two of the men in the film. Jesse Plemons does his best to bring off is stupid and enigmatic character, owner of a cattle ranch and newly wed to a seemingly naive woman, Kristen Dunst, who biomes increasingly addicted to alcohol and bizarre in performance as the movie edges along. Benedict Cumberbunch show that the can do a decent American/Western accent, but who can believe his repressed homosexual character for even a minute? And then there’s the over-the-top effeminate Kodi Smith-McPhee. Who are these people? What drives them? What do they hope and think, why are they so mean to one another, does the death at the end of the movie make any sense at all? Is it a murder? Who knows or cares at that point? 

Jean Renoir’s 1937 classic, Grand Illusion, loses nothing even after 80+ years and multiple viewings, a totally engrossing narrative whose basic underlying image is that social class is more of a bond among men at war than patriotism - at least up to a point! Story is of a group of French POWs held in a German camp near the end of the first WW - and it’s a camp for “officers,” so they’re treated quite well compared w/ POW camps for the ordinary grunts, which we never see. The head of one of the camps (Von Stroheim again!) thinks he has a special bond of understanding with his fellow aristocrats, and French play along - but all the while concoct an escape plan. The German officers are astonished at such effrontery - esp. in that some of the Fr. officers come from bourgeois backgrounds - one of key players is a Jew! Ultimately, class and country don’t matter, as we see in the touching concluding episodes when 2 of the escapees are taken in and protected by a German war widow; the last scene, which I won’t divulge, with the escapees struggling to cross a field of snowbanks, is famous and rightly so. Sadly, this film, with its sympathy for most of the German soldiers, could not have been made a few years later or at any time since; the Jewish POW would have been doomed, and the other French POWs could not possibly have felt a shared ethos with those serving under Hitler. 

Everything you’ve heard about Succession is true; at end of Season 3 (no spoilers) the characters are just as loathsome, intelligent, driven, and clearly defined as established in Season 1, and this series - of course it will be picked up as a Season 4 - seems likely to be one of the few that builds an arc from opening to conclusion and that satisfies viewers to the end, that is, doesn’t tail off as every aspect of the series runs out of steam and the final episode is on fumes. No, these characters and their milieu (I hate myself for envying how they travel in luxury around the world and around NYC) are so fascinating and well delineated that to start watching is to stay hooked.  don’t think this series does any form of justice or benevolence, but it lets us into what appears to be the inner workings of a right-wing media giant (read, Fox news) and satisfied us by showing that these people are so mean-spirited and self-centered in every aspect of their lives: Nobody to root for; just watch the carnage. Huge props to writers/creator Jess Armstrong, as to the cast too many to mention; no misfits or lightness among them. 

Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1962 film, L’eclisse (The Eclipse) will knock you over if you like cryptic, enigmatic features - because that’s all you’ll get here, no plot to speak of, the characters are strangely abstract, the pace is glacial (for the most part). But it’s a film that accomplishes its ends, so props on that. Essentially the story is about  beautiful 30ish woman in Rome (I think), Monical Vitti as Vittoria, who breaks up w/ her fiancé for no clear or distinct reason, and after much meandering has a fling with a handsome ne’er do well young stock broker, Alain Delon, and that just plain ends leaving her alone on an empty street. What works well in this film, however, are the vast empty spaces on the streets of Rome; I know that by in the ‘60s we didn’t see the street-choking traffic of Rome today (that’s part of the fun in watching European films from this era) but MA engineered these streets for his movie so that they’re vast empty spaces, kind of like a Magritte painting - unsettling in their emptiness, an emptiness that is matched by Viti’s insecurity, inability to know herself or to connect with anyone else. MA balances these empty street-scapes against 2 long scenes on the trading floor of the Rome stock market, where buyers and sellers literally scream at one another constantly, a furious babble of noise that no outsider can comprehend; it turns out to be a terrible day for the market, and we see in some of the characters the aftermath of a big paper loss. The stock-market scenes seem almost like documentaries, and maybe they are, with the key actors emerging gradually from the crowd. Overall, the film won’t answer any of your questions, but will leave you with a weird unsettlement, such as after reading a troubling poem or hearing dissonant chamber music. 

Paolo Sorrentino’s The Great Beauty (2013) stands as one of the greatest European films of the century, and he continues that reign of excellence with his 2021 film, The Hand of God, marking him really as the living heir to the style of Fellini, the obvious avatar for TGB which was PS’s homage to La Dolce Vita - and HofG continues that reverence: The complex family and public gatherings and celebrations, with so much explosive passion and anger and a fascination with eccentric characters and body types; in HofG the celebrations range from the purely familial (often over dinner, of course - with one spectacular family outdoor gathering), outbursts of passionate anger and sorrow (in HoG in particular a tremendous scene of the adult children reacting to a family tragedy), and flirtation & fascination with the criminal underworld. The main divergence of these two masterpieces is that TGB was about a man in late-life crisis, feeling that despite profuse outbursts of admiration and respect from all of his many acquaintances realization that he is close to none of them and that he has wasted his life in not completing his 2nd novel; in HoG we have a more conventional “coming of age” narrative, centered on a young man, Fabietta (a diminutive), whose aim in life is to be a filmmaker - so we obviously suspect that there are deep autobiographical elements in this film, which, like many Italian films of 20th century that encompass a relocation from the provincial towns and cities toward success in Rome. Fabietta’s seduction is one of the greatest of sex sequences; his obsession with his beautiful and deeply disturbed aunt is one of the great depictions of hopeless young love and “sentimental education.” Not sure how I feel about the film director (based on Fellini? didn’t seem like it) who makes a late appearance and gives F hell for not pursuing his dream - seemed a bit crude and too much “on the nose.” But F emerges from that tongue lashing, as we see him recognize the vapidity of his earlier passion - pro soccer, which, as he recognizes, is a stand-in for and an obstacle to his pursuit of filmmaking. All told, an excellent film that almost demands another viewing, as you can only absorb so much of this beautiful film - including the art direction and the excellent dissonant score. 

If you can’t get enough of the one-man (or -woman) conquering incredible odds and surviving in a challenge against topography and against all reason - mountain climbing, endurance running, surfing in 100-foot waves, etc. - you should add The River Runner to your viewing list, as it’s probably the best ever of films about kayaking the world’s most dangerous rapids - and it has a pretty good back story as well about personal hazards and obstacles that the greatest kayaker faced and survived. Maybe too many talking heads in this Netflix (2021) film, but the kayaking passages make it worth at least a good look. 

A better man-against-nature and facing incredible risks is The Alpinist, which follows the endeavors of possibly the world greatest free climbs - enormous peaks in Canada and Argentina that he climbs without ropes, only equipment he can carry by hand and in a small pack, unsupported, climbing solo with no backup crew, truly incredible, though we see it with our own eyes thanks largely I guess to drone cameras. Heart in mouth the whole way.

Marcel Carne’s masterwork, Children of Paradise (1945) feels today, obviously, somewhat dated - in particular because it’s set in Paris in the mid-19th century and is completely old-fashioned in its narrative, a beautiful (supposedly, something I’ve failed to see) woman (Arletty) adored by 4 men: a criminal, a wealthy aristocrat, a young aspiring actor, and a great mime (Jean-Louis Barrault), in a particularly sensitive role. So, yea, it’s kind of corny - when I first saw it in youth I was moved by the sentiments of love lost, love regained, and despair, later viewings have taken the polish off - but it’s grand in its way, too, much like a Balzac or even, though not quite as beautiful, like a Flaubert or Stendahl. Well those are high peaks to summit, and CofP definitely accomplishes its goals of a throw-back romance and a re-creation of the world of theater from long ago - the crowded street scenes, the behind-the-scenes chaos, and the rowdy audience crowds are extraordinary, even today. Part of anyone’s dismay, however, in watching this film today comes from knowing that Arletty was later convicted of treason for her ongoing relationship w/ German officer. The film was meant to be, weirdly, an escape from the war and the Occupation, but of course there had to be many compromises that allowed for the film to be made; certain topics and plot elements, which we can only imagine, must have been “streng verboten.” 

Paul Thomas Anderson’s Licorice Pizza is about as appealing as the afore-mentioned snack. This preposterous account of a 15-year-old h.s. senior in a  Central California town who falls at first sight for a 25-year-old woman in a dead-end job just makes no sense from the first moment: We don’t believe the male character is possible or likely or even likable and the woman, though more sympathetic, is so out-of-character in falling for a guy about half her age - well, it makes no sense at all. So it could still be fun or funny if these two were powerful and eccentric characters, if their pursuit of wealth and of one another and weirdly of a career in acting led to some wit, humor, or even development and maturation of 2 of the misguided, but there’s nothing her I could believe in or care about even for a moment - well, there was one moment (no spoiler but, here: when the guy is arrested by 2 tough cops who rough him up) though that promising episode ends w/ a puff: Sorry, wrong guy.  PTA has a lot of stature in Hollywood, but who really likes or liked this movie. It’s a holy, wholly, mess. 

Another under-the-radar series you’ve probably never heard of is Ed Sinclair and Will Sharpe British true-crime miniseries (4 episodes), Landscapers (2021). Based on a true crime about which there’s no mystery - the first episode begins with the VO that the couple was convicted of murder some 20 (?) years back and still proclaim their innocence - this series follows a strange, middle-age couple, Susan (Olivia Colman) and Christopher (David Thewlis) charged with killing Susan’s abusive parents and burying the bodies in the back yard. It’s not so much the details of the case and the trial that make this series work: It’s the suffering and sorrow of the couple, our empathy for them mixed with disgust even revulsion, and some highly unusual narration that at times breaks the 4th wall and that delves into dreamwork and fantasy - and most of all for star turns by the two principals: Colman’s face can express every known emotion, in a flash, and Thewlis is unmatched in various roles as the British misfit and intellectual weirdo. This series deserves more recognition. 

Larry David’s Curb Your Enthusiasm hardly needs a boost from me but I’ll just say that Season 11 loses nothing in the hilarity department. How many series can say that? I’ve only watched a scattered few of the episodes in past years but, new to HBO, we enjoyed watching a full season of the show and I was particularly impressed at how well individual episodes stand up - thanks to the continued wrangling about the smallest aspects of the protocols of life, e.g., tucking sweaters in our not, how men should and shouldn’t embrace, et al, while maintaining a narrative arc of equal hilarity across the 10 episodes of the season: in this case LD’s attempt to repeal the local ordnance requiring a “five-foot fence” around a swimming pool - all because a burglar drowned in LD’s unfenced pool and he finds himself threatened by a relative of the deceased with a huge lawsuit for negligence - but there’s an out, case will be dropped if LD casts guy’s daughter in his latest sitcom, which is OK but she’s terrible and so forth. All funny and at times poignant. 

Carol Reed’s 1949 thriller, The Third Man, is fun and beautiful to watch, all filmed in eerie b/w on streets of the near-deserted postwar Vienna as the protagonist, Holly played Joseph Cotton, seeks his vanished friend Harry Lyme, played brilliantly by Orson Welles, in fact many people probably think OW directed this or starred in it - in fact he has only one speaking scene before the long, complex chase at the end through the underground sewer system of Vienna, a symbol, obviously of the sinuous and rotting system of postwar management - and perhaps of European prewar life as well. The plot doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense - script by Graham Greene in the all-star production - but that doesn’t matter as the acidic, disillusioned dialog, the great manhunt at the end, and the weird ride on the Ferris wheel all are fun to watch. As to listening, I am definitely not a fan of the zither music that scores the entire film - totally annoying and not especially appropriate for the setting, either. 

The rogue McKay-Sirota comet heads toward Earth and global extinction, Don’t Look Up, turns out to be not a conventional world-on-the-brink thriller at all but a serio-comic, ironic, message-bearing, fun if too much on the nose and too easy to gloat about look at how a corrupt administration hand-in-hand with high-tech heavy donor trillionaires creat global confusion as half the world (or at least the country) fails to recognize the global threat and mocks those who do - does this sound familiar? DiCaprio as scientist though hardly world-renowned is part of team that discovers the comet gives a career performance in stepping out of character, Jennifer Lawrence good as always, Timothee Chalamet shows some range, Mark Rylance as a Steve Jobs-type is great, too - lots of fun in this sometimes message-heavy production that, like the comet, feels at times too close for comfort.