Further thoughts on Umbrellas of Cherbourg: Is it a New Wave film?

Following up in Jacques Demy's 1963 Umbrellas of Cherbourg, watched some of the supplements on the Criterion DVD and learned a # of important points about the production: was recorded by a cast of singers and then filmed as the actors listened to the recording and same the score just for synchronization - sometimes these filming sessions through the night, with the voice recordings playing loud so the actors could sing their parts. Was filmed on location in Cherbourg, using actual storefronts, streets, and interiors - though the interiors of course were completely redesigned to match the color scheme of the film (actually, costumes came first and then the wall coverings and wallpaper designed to match). Also quite a bit of discussion as to this film's place and Demy's place among teh French New Wave directors of his time - most famous being Godard and Truffaut. What it's not New Wave: Demy was inspired by Ameican films but not those of the great directors eg Ford and Hitchcock but rather by West Side Story and its high-production values, emotions, popularity, and lyricism - and took it one step further in having a film w/ no spoken dialogue. Also, unlike New Wave, he made the film with elaborate settings and costumes - and in bright color - again, high production and not the realistic look of New Wave. Also, his expressed goal was to make viewers cry - clearly not a New Wave goal, which might be to make us gasp, and think. (Even the end of 500 Blows: We are astonished, but not tearful.) But it is New Wave in that it uses natural settings (streets of Cherbourg), references to the real world (the Algerian War), and most important it is director-centric, it's very much Demy's film (even some autobiographical references - his father owned a gas station, e.g.), tied to characters in his first film, full of cinemati cross-references and quotations, and driving entirely by Demy's vision - his own screenplay and close collaboration w/ composer, as well as his understanding of the look, the pacing, the perspectives, the editing - like all New Wave it's not a studio work nor an actor's film but 100 percent a director's.

Not an opera but an excellent and probably unique movie: Umbrellas of Cherbourg

One of the gags in Jacques Demy's 1973 The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is at the outset when the male lead, a young French auto mechanic (in itself a bit of a joke) says he's taking his "girl" to the opera (Carmen) and one of the other mechanics opines that he hates operas, he prefers movies. Of course Umbrellas has operatic aspirations - as most know, the entire movie is sung, with not a line of spoken dialog. To be clear - Umbrellas is by no means an opera; musically and lyrically its not even close to the complexity, variety, or vocal challenges of even the simplest of operas. Umbrellas is truly sui generis, and as long as you keep your expectations, musically at least, at the right level, it's a charming, original, and visually extraordinary film. The scene compositions are entirely striking -0 from the opening shots of the working harbor, the cobblestone streets glistening in rain, the many storefronts on the crowded streets gleaming under streetlights, and most of all the nearly surreal, expressionistic interiors with wallpaper in bright hues and with the characters adorned in matching colors and patterns - quote incredible. The story itself is sweet and (spoilers here) most viewers expect the story to be a sentimental romance, but there are very dark and surprising turns toward the end - though the movie ends with the joyous image of the make lead, Guy, playing with wife and daughter in the snow in front of his gleaming Esso service station - like one of the toy models in his that we see in his childhood bedroom now come to life - yet there's a strong undertone of sorrow, loss, and betrayal - and of course a very French frankness about sex, unusual even for French films in its day. Our course Catherine Deneuve is another reason to watch the film - she's very young here and hasn't even grown into her full mature beauty, but with her golden hair and graceful step she lights up every scene she's in - especially the Mardi Gras sequence as she works her way across the street, sideways against the flow of the crowd - and at the end we're shocked to see her in the last sequence, older, colder, harder.

Stills: The unique cinematic style of Stray Dogs

Stray Dogs (2014) by Tsai Ming-liang (had to look up his name) is by no means a movie for everyone, but if you have patience and don't expect every movie to be drive by plot, character, or action and are willing to try to meet this very unusual film on its own terms, it's an excellent, provocative, and moving picture. Rather than think of it as a movie, think of it almost as a photo gallery through which you could wander room by room and take in each "picture" for as long as you want, and maybe view them in any sequence - or a photo essay on homeless children in contemporary Taiwan (Taipei?). But it's more than a photo gallery or photo essay, as these are not exactly "stills." The film consists of probably about 100 scenes, each (with one exception - one sequences is filmed with conventional shot to shot editing) shot by a still camera that may pivot from time to time or deepen its focus but that never otherwise moves of tracks. Each shot is composed like a beautiful still photo, but the photos comes subtly to life: there's some (but never a lot) of movement in each shot, limited dialogue - but taken in sequence they tell a quite beautiful, sorrowful, and mysterious story. To the extent there is a story: it's about a young boy and girl, apparently abandoned by their mother (we see her in first scene only, in a weird but run-down apartment), who spend their days blending into the crowd in a local supermarket - and go home at night with father, who lives as a squatter in what seems to be an abandoned housing project, and who makes a little money standing at an intersection holding a sign advertising luxury rentals. Over the course of the film, a worker in the supermarket intervenes to help the children (and their father), but at the end we sense that she has her own problems and her efforts will be ineffectual. There is no back story whatsoever, and many of the scenes - particularly those in the abandoned buildings where some of the characters live, are spatially confusing. I have no idea whether the conditions portrayed are accurate re life in Taipei- at times they seem documentary, at times surreal. The structure is intentionally open to our interpretation, and not all the scenes are equally effective - the extremely long takes in the last two scenes seemed to me overdone and empty. But some extraordinary scenes as well, some of them painful to watch: the light in the supermarket, reflections in the glass of new construction, the closeup of the father singing softly to himself as he holds the advertising sign, the children and father washing up in a public bathroom, the drunken father devouring a head of cabbage - each scene composed and thought through to the smallest detail. No other filmmaker I know of is working in exactly this way - a very circumscribed style, but a unique cinematic signature.

Why I don't like Wolf Hall

I was not a great fan of Hilary Mantel's novel Wolf Hall and, dispute the hoopla and the incredibly glowing reviews of the BBC miniseries I have to dissent on this as well. Yes, of course, the production values, as with all BBC histories, are immaculate and impeccable: the costuming, the hundreds of castles and keeps and formal gardens that dot the landscape of England-land, just waiting to be re-purposed as film sets - and of course the high quality of the acting. But at the heart of it - doesn't anybody else find this series to be, in a word, dull? So many characters, so many scenes, but each of them short, undeveloped, almost like a sketch. Compared with the book, it's relatively easy to follow as we have faces to ID the many characters - but it's still a huge challenge, as we, or at least I, barely know the names of many of the characters and constantly have to try to figure out who's who and why is Thos Cromwell - who rises to become Henry VIII's top confidant, scheming with or about them? All told, bottom line, I don't really give a damn about H8 and his narcisssim, and how he used his royal wealth and power to bully the nation into getting his way. And I don't care about the schism with Rome. It's all important history I'm sure, but this series barely touches on the significance of these events. It's all about Cromwell's being willing to do anything to advance the cause of his master - from Cardinal Wolsey, then H8. He's the consummate chief of staff/general counsel - in other words, the fixer - a figure familiar in any top tier of power. But - despite Rylant's excellent acting - he's not all that interesting - it's not as if his scheming is brilliant and astonishing and surprising to us; rather, he gives good counsel and stands up boldly against some really tough and powerful figures, including rival Thos More (allied w/ Rome) and aspiring Queen Anne Boleyn. But are we to root for him, feel for him, pull for him? Why should we, when all he's doing is aggrandizing the power of a narcissist monarch? At the heart of the series (and the book) is the knowledge that Cromwell is of the working classes, son of an abusive, drunkard blacksmith - this is all much more obvious in the series, when his accent alone sets him apart with every line he speaks - but as American viewers do we care about this, either? Class is such a big deal in England - still, I think - that there's a sense of wonder that a working-class boy could be so smart and able, and a lot of overt prejudice against him as well. My feeling about all that is: get over it. There's a certain smugness in the whole project, as if the rise of a character like Cromwell shows that the English system was (is) more open than most would believe, but the very exceptionalism of this case carries the opposite message as well, as if to say: Isn't it amazing what he accomplished, given his origins? I think it's more amazing how long-standing, how enduring is the belief that accents, background, and conditions of birth "make the man" - the social structure that makes it so.

Silent flows the Don: Wondering how they'll wrap up Mad Men over the next 3 episodes

The final season, or half-season, if Mad Men is stumbling toward its close and has taken a while - finished now with the first 3 of 6 episodes, to figure out exactly how to wrap things up without going over the top and without leaving too many strings untied. We see quite clearly in the first (and 2nd) episode that Don is still a player - as he seduces a coffee-shop waitress and then tries to very awkwardly to enter her life: his visit to her tawdry, Hopperesque mid-town apt., a world away from his East Side penthouse, is one of the striking moments in the series. We don't see ex Meagan until the 2nd episode, nor do we see Betty or any of his children until episode three. But by episode three the shape of the final season begins to emerge from the fog: Roger dragoons Don into writing a piece for an agency annual Bahamas retreat, in which he'll reflect on the past accomplishments and present a vision of the future of the now corporate-owned ad shop. So Don spends time in episode 3 asking people about their goals - and he is surprise - not sure why he should be - about the mundane and predictable goals they espouse: success, fame, riches ... Obviously, he's going to write something far more personal, profound, and astonishing, though we have no idea what. Meanwhile, he squabbles w/ daughter - as his flawed personality becomes increasingly obvious to her as she mature - he's a shameless flirt and Don Juan, even among her teenage friends. A young ad exec also confronts done - saying he has no great strength or moral fiber, he's just good looking - and Don fires him on the spot. Hm. Meanwhile, Megan has left and cleared out all of Don's furniture - and he's selling the condo - leaving a sad shell of a place behind. Behind - but what lies ahead? A thrme of episode 3 is also atonement, or at least apology: Don wrestling with the idea of apologizing to those he's hurt or insulted or disappointed - but there are so many. We also have to wonder whether Don will also, in some way, come to terms with his complex childhood and the poverty of his youth that he's run away from - even from his identity - for his whole life: at the end of the previous season, he showed his children, for the first time, the house in which he grew up - blowing apart the myth he'd created of teh Midwestern boyhood - but will anything more come of that, or will Don's skills as a marketeer and a maker of illusion continue to hide the man behind the mask.

Later: Some reconsiderations on 2nd viewing of Late Spring

I did watch the "commentary" version on the Criterion DVD of Ozu's Late Spring and found it very insightful and informative (not always the case), which led me to reconsider some aspects of the film. Yes, it's still a very slow and deliberate piece of work and will never be and could never be a "big hit," but it's a really fine work of art and, on second viewing, I picked up some insights (Ozu is that way - subtle in every scene and gesture). The commentator noted that Ozu has a surprisingly modern and open narrative technique, and I think that's exactly right: he introduces plot elements that fool us and deceive us, as life does sometime: he clearly sets up a potential romance between Noriko and her father's editorial assistant, until we learn that he is engaged - and even has a scene were he seems to be coming on to Noriko, inviting her to violin concert, and when she says his fancee wouldn't like that he brushes that away - we seem to be heading toward a story in which they become a couple, but that plot strand vanishes. Ozu introduces scenes and leaves them alone and unexamined - such as showing Noriko and her father's friend entering an art exhibit - but we never see them at the exhibit, nor do they ever mention it. Is there more to their lives that we're not seeing? He also talks about the very special relationship between N. and her father - I think he misses something there, as the relationship is filled with Oedipal tensions and with sexual frustration. N has a very odd, frightened attitude toward physicality, toward men, toward marriage - and we can't help but, by the end, feel that her marriage, which we never see, is unlikely to succeed. I like the Noh theater scene more on 2nd viewing, as we see that the long (7 minute) sequences is really just about a few subtle gestures of recognition - not by the Noh actors but by Noriko, her father, and his supposed fiancee. I was very struck by the sorrowful plea N. made to her father during the Kyoto sequence: why can't we stay like this forever? - I had missed the pathos there on first viewing - and even more by the final scene of her father alone in his apartment, peeling an apple (some kind of echo of her discussion early on about peeling a radish - which made almost no sense in translation - but maybe it's something he can do well and she cannot) as he lets the peel drop and then bows his head: the rest of his life will be different, lonely. The commentator noted that we know nothing about N.s mother - very true - and that we learn little about the war - although I think we learn a lot by how little they talk about the war - and see no signs of destruction (probably so as to pass the American-occupying censors). Finally, I noticed how still the cameras are throughout - always with that tatami-mat perspective and throughout the film hardly a single tracking shot (only perhaps the bicycle trip and the petulant walk home after the Noh theater). The plot could be recounted in about two minutes, but the subtleties of style an narration take along time to discuss, analyze, and figure out - surely one of the marks of a great artist.

A tangled web - the plot and characters of American Crime

Continuing to watch the ABC series American Crime with great interest, even though, yes, it's a bit cheesy and predetermined and, no, I can't really buy into the central relations between Carter (black petty drug dealer and addict charged with murder) and Aubrey (white drug addict potential charged with assault and pressured into testifying against boyfriend Carter - pressure that she resists, at least for now. Friend Bruce D.S. noted to me that every character (with exception of racists and bitter divorcee Felicity Huffman) started as a cliche and then gradually defied our expectations and changed, in some manner. Not sure I completely agree there, but I do think the plotting without stretching credibility and without becoming unduly complex or coincidental - as in movies such as Crash or Traffic - brings into confluence and conflict a wide range of characters in the small city of Modesto, aside from those mentioned there are the parents of the woman assaulted and raped, particularly the odious and self-righteous father, the father of the murder victim, a sweet and insecure reformed gambler and alcoholic played well by Timothy Hutton, probably the only character in the series willing and able to recognize that his child was a total screw-up and that he may bear some of the blame, the Mexican-American car mechanic struggling to get along who is in constant conflict with his two teenage children, and in particular his son, a kids with very likely some learning disabilities who to drawn into petty thuggery in part because of his own innocence and yearning for friendship and companionship - and this just to name a few of the characters. At the center is the murder of a drug dealer, and it's quite surprising yet also quite believable how many people are drawn into the net of this crime - either as suspects, victims, activists, family members of the dead and the accused, witnesses, and so on - the only people about whom we learn and see very little are the lawyers and prosecutors, though we may be soon to learn more about the team hired to defend Carter - hired by his sister who believes her brother has been profiled and abused because he's black who's become active in the local Muslim community so we can see on the horizon some nasty and explosive confrontations.