Ozu’s comedic The End of Summer (1961) and his final film, An Autumn Afternoon (1962), a heart-breaker about an elderly father who after much travail recognizes that it’s time for his ultra-obedient daughter to marry and move out of the household, leaving him lonely and isolated but recognizing the inevitability of the search for marriage, companionship, and maturity, that is, life goes on without you.
The seemingly impossible magical tricks in Derek del Gaudio’s In and of Itself (2023, Hulu) and a completely perplexing documentary, Burden of Proof (2023) about a man’s 20-year search for an explanation about his younger sister who in her teen years simply vanished - with her parents as prime suspects in the mysterious show.
Prime special Deadloch (2023) is truly one of the best crime comedies, pulling off the nearly impossible: A remote Tasmanian village tolerant home to legions of lesbians is struck by a series of ghastly murder/mutilations. So how can this be funny? The interplay between the two cops in the lead, most notably to Madeleine Sami’s lead-cop Eddie who keeps up a constant high-energy patter and quirky thoughts, observations, and behaviors - beware that you will need to use subtitles, as the dialog, in strong Tasmanian dialect, is rapid and unrelenting and when understood hilarious.
Duel (1971) was Steven Spielberg’s early film is essentially a 90-minute picture about an ordinary, social awkward business guy with some vague marital issues who drives into the rural southern California desert for an important meeting with a client and gets waylaid in a road-rage incident with a truck bearing warning: Flammable Material. Out of such a thin premise - it’s based on a short story by Richard Matheson - it’s astonishing how much tension SS developed and maintained, how many obstacles the driver faces and endures, how the film felt so incredible, and all hats off also to the film editor (Frank Morris) who builds such a web, such a crisis, w/ little use of scenery and the limited score of roadway and 2 drivers. The film is tense from the start and increases in anxiety level right to the final shot - an accomplishment and sure sign of genius at work.
The surprisingly saccharine, for Martin Scorsese anyway, with its catchy title, Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore (1974), despite a fine acting turn by Ellen Burstyn in the lead and some really fine handheld footage of comic moments and outbursts in a roadside diner, is today quaint and out of date. The film was decades back scene as a feminist manifesto - get out of bad relationships and, despite numerous obstacles - live your life as you see fit. Who could disagree? But at the end we see a supposedly liberated Alice totally dependent on the men (3 of them) in her life, and even the apparently good and honest man, played by Kris Kstopherson, shows a truly brutal and even abusive side, hardly, to me, made good by his mea culpa. The choices Alice makes along the way seem highly selective and odd: taking off x-country with her 10-year-old son upon the death of her husband with no possessions but her car and with no prospects but her supposed talent for night-club singing. I mean, there have to be other, better options for her, some sort of support through her long-established friendships for example; if she truly has to work a menial job, as a waitress eventually, why an aimless journey to her supposed childhood home in Cal.? So the film feels dated, although admittedly w/ a few scenes that do make the grade and a heartfelt conclusion that will speak to some, maybe most, viewers.
Arthur Penn’s non-who-dunnit Night Moves (1975, written by Alan Sharp) is one of those movies fun to watch even though the mystery itself gets tangled up and we hardly know or even care who’s guilty and why. Penn gets an excellence from Gene Hackman as a beleaguer private eye who is disgusted with his profession, his clients, and himself - his glory days with the Oakland Raiders behind him. He’s in the tradition of Sam Spade et al but far more physical, sexual, and troubled in an existential manner - hot, not cool. The highlight of the film may be some of the excellent photography - es an underwater sequence - and the well choreographed violence - it’s a movie about movie extras so even the least probable collisions are or seem “real” on the narrative level. A grand finale with a low-lying plane attacking a disabled boat echos Hitchcok - as does Penn altogether, in someways. Worth watching, though it’s hardly a deep probe into personality or profundity.
The HBO/MAX documentary The Golden Boy, directed by Fernando Villena, tells the sad but all too familiar tale of a great athlete, Oscar De La Hoya, born into poverty the rough East LA and pushed by father in particular to be tough and learn to fight, yet unlike the thousands or millions who dream of athletic prowess but fall short, ODLH became a boxing champion who seemingly had it all: success in the ring, millions in fight fees, intelligence and poise, good looks, and so it goes, and he wasn’t even ripped off by his manager (cf Elvia) - but still let it all get away as success went to his head and his boxing skills eroded with age - not as pathetic as the late fights of Ali but bad enough. It’s amazing that he wa so cooperative in making this unflattering no-holds-baredfillm. unlike many other gem-polished or image-building projects - and all the more sad for what could have been a great second career in media, business, many other paths. Credit for his honesty and access. Have to ad as a final note the role of his first wife who grew up in this township seeming a million miles away from the life of her peers; also credits for vivid boxing footage which she as clearly as any I’ve seen the skill, the bravery, and the suffering that these fighters endure.
Kon Ichikawa’s adaptation (1983) of the great Jun’ichiro Tanizaki’s novel The Makioka Sisters, which I loved, is a solid, classy, visually beautiful two-hour film about the 4 eponymous sisters; of a once wealthy family whose patriarch ran a business making high-end kimonos - a dying industry in every sense (the film is set in the 1930s) - now holding on to their wealth and stature and fro their firm belief that the sisters much marry (the 2 elder are married already) their birth order - a problem in the daughter #3 is recalcitrant, and artistic type who makes a living or hopes to do so making ceremonial dolls. It’s hard to summarize the novel, in part because of its broad scope and abundance of characters - the 4 sisters, husbands to the eldest, various suitors (and their families), + servants. In short the film for most Westerners esp those unfamiliar with the source novel will have trouble following all the nuances, subtleties, and sometimes obscure plot points. The film looks great, the sound track is lovely, the actors all are credible and vivid - but I would recommend reading the novel first or at the least checking in from time to time with a plot summary or cast list. Even better - I’d love to see a team tell this story for the age of streaming, as it would make a great drama of 10 - 12 chapters, something like Berlin Alexanderplatz for ex.- a perfect candidate for a contemporary remake.
Anthony Corrona’s Last Call is an engaging, eloquent, and brave documentary (based on a book by Elon Green) about a shameful official neglect in efforts to ID, locate, and charge a man with murdering and mutilating a series of queer men in NYC; the cops at first were blasé but, to their credit, some NJ police stepped in - the remains of 2 of the victims were found in NJ - and the pace picked up. For much of the duration - the murders began ion 1992 - the official attitude seemed to be it’s best to ignore the case. But a # of police officers had the right attitude and really pursued the guy as incidents secured and at last some forensic evidence was discovered. This do is both a police procedural and a study of a culture despised by many and known to few - gay/queer/stransient NYers, many, including most of the victims, leading closeted lives - definitely worth watching for all of the above reasons - and with hope that any future case would not be allowed to simmer for decades and in hopes that those at the center of the maelstrom are today better understood, more welcomed, pre tolerated, more protected from police and official indifference as part of the vast urban tapestry.
