Elliot's Watching - April 2023
Mon Oncle, Rohmer, Hitchcock, Mike Leigh, Beef, Songs from the 2nd Floor
Roy Andersson’s Songs from the Second Floor (2000), in Swedish (wouldn’t Songs from Another Floor be more accurate?) is without a doubt one of the strangest and most unsettling films I’ve ever seen, veering and swaying in its mood and intentions as the so-called story unfolds via about 30 vignettes of about 3 minutes each, some feeling close to a plot line, others mood-establishing only; the many scenes include abortive sex among 60+ couples (touching and moving, not exploitative at all), one weird scene in which all the passengers on a subway car harmonize in some kind of medieval religious chant, a magician whose “saw the audience volunteer in half” goes dreadful wrong, et al., all centered on a crisis that disrupts the lives on one Stockholm business family, a mysterious fire that destroyed all their possessions: The family is tormented in many ways, not the least of which is an adult son who has undergone a complete breakdown (the father attributes it to his love of poetry - and in fact there are Vellejo, one of my faves, throughout) - there are some weird and violent moments as the distraught dad visits his wreck of a son in a psychiatric hospital, and all the while in the background is a complete gridlock freeze of all Stockholm roadways; the ruined man’s younger son, working as a taxi driver, has adventures of his own, notably his conveyance of a military sort to a celebration of the 100th bd of a once powerful general now living on a bed with sides like a child’s bed (during the ceremony of recognition, the old general is seated on a bed pan: nobody notices). Clearly not a film for everyone, but for those of us who like to take risks sometimes it’s a truly provocative and strange work of art.
Jacques Tati directed, co-wrote, and stars as the title character in Mon Oncle (1958), one of a set of 4 playful comedies, in which the Oncle, M. Hurot, is ever-present as a comic, comical, eccentric - friendly to kids and dogs, not so much to family members and others, to whom with his bumbling, irresponsible presence is often annoying or worse. In Mon Oncle he takes a job in a factory - producer of colorful plastic pipelines - owned by his well-off brother-in-law. Hulot/Tati is a direct descendant of Harpo and Chaplain, though Mon Oncle is a much more highly stylized film than anything from the b/w era - in fact, the star of the show may well be the set design and the costumery (although Hulot sports only his droopy trench coat though it’s never raining and his ever-present stem pipe seldom lighted). The sets - particularly the super-modern showpiece where his sister lives - brash colors, odd gradient layout, doors that open automatically when one passes through a beam of light, and in particular the near-lethal garage door that slams up and down and entraps those who are too late in gaining exit. The clothing - esp. that of the flamboyant neighbors who visit the abode for a party that is suitably effusive and - flashy and overdone by any standard and a sharp contrast to Hulot’s drab, Holmesian attire. The film is whimsical though never exactly riotous and doesn’t really have a point of view or much of a plot or even a message other than that it takes all kinds and be kind to your neighbors, a good enough message I guess.
Eric Rohmer’s A Tale of Springtime (1990) is the first ion a non-chronological group of 4 films each “about” or at least set in a different season, put together over a six-year span late in Rohmer’s life. Anything but grand and melodramatic, these films or at least for the moment Springtime only, is small in scope and, presumably, in budget: Springtime has a small cast of characters - 5 but only 3 playing a major role - a short spinoff time (a week?) and a point of crisis or at least of tension the central marital or romantic setting. In this instance, Jeanne (Ann Teyssedre), a philosophy instructor age about 30, meets a young woman, Natacha, who in return for a ride at a pretty dismal dinner gathering back to her home in Paris offers to put up Jeanne for the night (as several other housing arrangements have fallen through). Over the course of a few days and nights, some spent at a country house, the two young women bond - though Natacha is much younger and less experienced; N’s big lament is that her adored father, now divorced, is dating a woman near N’s age. Other course of the few days there’s lots of discuss - typical of Rohmer’s style from the outset (My Night at Maud’s, Claire’s Knee, the more recent Green Ray) there’s lots of talk and teeth gnashing, plus several “moral” choices: and indeed, as we suspected of course, something starts to develop between Jeanne and Dad. The film is captivating in some ways, though very talky and with a minimum of technique - it’s like a play transposed, or what’s sometimes called a Chamber Play (Strindberg wrote several in this mode). The settings are minimal and uninspired, and intended to be so I’m sure; the ending is a bit contrived - but, again, we could all see it coming, which makes me think that’s part of Rohmer’s style as well ()cf Green Ray). I’m curious enough to watch the other 3 plays in this set.
Home Sweet Home is a 1982 television film from Mike Leigh and it is without doubt his darkest and most ominous work - hard to believe the same guy could do this film as well as Happy Go Lucky, a testament to the range of his work and the breadth of his vision. This one, though, is only for those who could stand to watch 90 minutes of terrible marital relationships, infidelities, and constant nagging and bullying - not for everyone, but still it stands as a remarkable work in its own dark way: three co-workers in some tedious letter-sorting and -delivery for theRoyal Mail, seemingly reasonably good co-workers and near-neighbors but eventually shown to be deeply faulted: the central figure a terrible cad who has carried on a long affair with the wives of the other 2 and is totally indifferent to his sullen and withdrawn daughter living in an institution for young women with mental illness of various sorts; a terrible drunk and a man with some kind of learning disabilities, a target for all bullies including his wife; and the most sorrowful figure of all, married to a vengeful shrew who does nothing but carp at him from which he offers no defense or responses, somethings retreating into mumbled verses from popular songs or nursery rhymes or into cascades of riddles and puns. Enough, already? It’s a powerful film but not for all tastes.
Hitchock’s highly entertaining if unlikely at at times - esp regarding the instant-love plot angle, man (Joel McCrea) falls for woman (Laraine Day) who at first scorns him but he wins her over although god forbid that have sex before marriage! - Foreign Correspondent (1940) sets McCrea, a NYC crime reporte, on a publisher’s whim to serve as a/the foreign correspondent for this NY paper to Europe - with no experience but under orders to provide good stories - on the eve of war. Shortly after his arrival a major peace-advocate diplomat is assassinated (in a great scene), or is he really? This leads JMc to pursue a good lead about a group of radeical militants that wants for some reason to bring on the war. Complications (and revelation) ensure, and though we don’t really care about all the nuances there are some really rich moments notably the hideout and shootout in a Dutch windmill - a totally strange and probably unique crime scene - and, without giving anything away, I have say that the ultimate sequence toward the end of the film that has to do with air travel is one of the greatest chase/war/disaster sequences of its era and of ours, despite all our technological advances, as well.
Lee Sung Jin’s10-episode series Netflix series, Beef (2023) is a completely engaging, dramatic, multi-faceted crime/romance drama that begins with a road-rage incident between a young Korean-American construction worker (Steven Yeun) and a wealthy (but not wealthy enough) businesswoman (who’s married to a mother-supported artist), played beautifully by Ali Wong, who’s herself well known for some hysterical stand-up, adults-only comedy specials. The series goes well beyond the bounds of most crime/romance shows, with some surprising yet convincing plot strands that pit two families against each other and that, over time (others have made this point) come to seem increasingly alike. The 10th episode is about as good, and as unusual, as any final TV act I’ve seen, a long twosome speaking to each other through the night in what could be taken alone, I think, as a serious drama - with no obvious antecedents except maybe Bergman? Will there be a follow up? Doubt it - and it’s best to quit while ahead anyway.
Mike Leigh’s Who’s Who? (1979) was a play for BBC later made into a film and clearly not one of Leigh’s major works although it’s in its satiric, biting manner worth a lot of laughs garnered from a thin and familiar motif. The film follows two gatherings: one of a set of 5 completely self-centered and largely repulsive adult children of the upper crust - a group that in its insularity con survive the satiric bards of this (and other - think Python) films for TV; the other a “middle class” man who works as a low-level stockbroker (along side one of the upper crust from the other set), who is completely obsessed with the aristocracy and, in his own words, his collection of signed photos of members of Parliament and there with titles -“This is my life!” - is inflicted on everyone he meets or knows; meanwhile his wife shares none of that interested but her passion is her collection of cats. The”action”of the movie consists largely of back and forth between 2 simultaneous events: a disastrous dinner party served by the aristocratic youth and an equally disastrous pet photo session.All told, a film worth a few laugh at the expense of some easy targets, funny but without the passion and empathy of ML’s greater works.
