|
I tell you, the more I think, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.
- Vincent van Gogh
|
August 29th, 2005
 I watched French auteur Robert Bresson’s “Lancelot of the Lake” (1974), via NetFlix.
Bresson’s dour medieval drama opens with a montage depicting moments from the dogged, ruthless quest for the Holy Grail – knights behead other knights, blood sprays this way and that. Naturally, I didn’t want to laugh, but I had to laugh. I had to laugh because…well…
…”Now stand aside, worthy adversary.”
“‘Tis but a scratch.”
“A scratch!? Your arm’s off!”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Well, what’s that, then?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“You liar!”
“Come on, you pansy!”…
The quality of the spurting blood, the small-scale budget, the gloomy 1970′s photography – if you can watch the opening of “Lancelot of the Lake” without remembering “Monty Python and The Holy Grail” (1975), well, then you probably haven’t seen “Monty Python and the Holy Grail”. It’s juvenile of me, I know, but Bresson’s gore gave me the giggles.
It’s the same kind of idiocy that once caused an audience to rock with laughter at a screening of “The Wild Bunch”. Pike Bishop said “We’ll make a run for the border” and the audience busted up. You see, it happened that there was a Taco Bell commercial on in those days that employed the slogan “Make a run for the border.” Yep. We laugh good. Good laugh long time. Then Pike shoot shoot all bad men with gatling gun not so funny. It’s the same immature foolishness that makes me giggle like a 12 year old when people in 1930′s films declare how very gay they are feeling. Sometimes I’m just ashamed of myself – but not that often.
 But back to “Lancelot” – the Grail quest has ended badly, knights dead and lost, and no Grail to be found anywhere. In fact, maybe there is no Holy Grail at all. Maybe the Grail never existed. The story begins at the end – the end of the days of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, the end of the golden age embodied in the persona of Lancelot, the perfect knight. And in the wake of the failed Grail quest, these ideals of chivalrous nobility degenerate into mere infatuation between a man and a woman, selfish – and all too human – desire that will destroy the whole kingdom, destroy the whole world. That is perhaps the central message of the movie, perhaps the message at the heart of the Arthur / Guinevere / Lancelot story. When our idol, our ideal knight, decides to become an ordinary flesh and blood man, when our perfect queen decides to become an ordinary woman, then doom is near.
“Lancelot of the Lake” is an eerie and haunting telling of the story in large part because its characters and situations are rendered in their most symbolic aspects here – in deep contrast to the more literal, swords & sorcery vision of, say, “Excalibur” (1981). These characters are archetypes, resounding throughout all of western civilization – the embodiment of the noble husband who is also a blind fool, the idolized and elevated queen of the castle who longs for a life of the flesh, the outsider hero whose concealed desires will bring destruction to those he most loves. Bresson understands this and amplifies it so that the actors seem to be filling the roles of characters who are themselves filling the roles of mythological archetypes.
 The characters seem to move from scene to scene out of a sense of obligation, they are merely showing up to deliver their lines, in a predetermined series of events on which they can have little effect. They are subject to the myth they inhabit, only along for the ride in this titanic, eternal struggle. The film succeeds very well in this sense of tragic inevitability, the individual subordinate to the grand story he is part of. George Lucas’s “Star Wars” prequels attempt a similar thing, reducing character personality to a minimum in order to make the mythology stand out more, but in that case the technique reveals that there is very little worthwhile mythology to emphasize, and so we are bored, rather than enlightened.
I spoke to my mother and father this morning. Mum said she was sending me “King Arthur” (2004), directed by Antoine Fuqua, which I have not yet seen. I gather it is a de-mythologizing of the Arthur story, though I dread that there will be less de-mythologizing and more deliberate ignorance of the mythology. I have no hard information on which to base this prejudice, only a general observation of a trend in recent movies’ attempts to depict “larger than life” characters. But I am curious. It does seem difficult to irretrievably mess up the Arthur story. “Excalibur”, “Camelot”, “The Sword and the Stone” – and “Lancelot of the Lake” – each offer up something worthwhile. The exception may be “First Knight”, which I did see once on a plane. I try not to take too seriously my impressions of films watched on flights, but – John Box’s production design notwithstanding – it was a real stinker.
Despite its minimal production value – because of it, in large part – “Lancelot of the Lake” is probably the most sophisticated of the Arthurian films, also one of the saddest, and certainly one of the strangest.
August 8th, 2005
 Last night, my wife and I saw, “2046″ (2004), Wong Kar Wai’s sequel to “In The Mood For Love” (2000)
I feel wholly inadequate in trying to write about this movie. I was knocked out. It is Wong Kar Wai’s best film.
Though “Chungking Express” (1994) has a permanent place in my heart, I recognize that Wong Kar Wai’s masterpiece – until now – is “In The Mood For Love”, a melancholy and beautiful story about a man and woman living next door to each other in a cramped Hong Kong apartment building, whose growing attraction for each other is complicated when they learn that their spouses are having affairs – with each other. A Hong Kong “Brief Encounter” with a twist.
 “2046″ continues the story of “In The Mood For Love’s” protagonist, played by Tony Leung Chiu Wai, and his attempts to continue with his life, broken-hearted and crippled by the memory of The Perfect Romance That Never Was. Tony Leung’s character is a writer – writing for newspapers and tabloids, sometimes writing cheap romances or martial arts novels – and is a dead ringer for Marcello Mastroianni’s spiritually bankrupt writer character in “La Dolce Vita” (1960). I wonder if the similarity between the two was not entirely accidental. The allusions to other works, Wong Kar Wai’s own films primarily, are many and beautifully subtle. In fact, “2046″ is one of the better movies about a writer that I’ve seen in a while, showing nicely how the writer’s personal life and his creative work do interact with each other but only indirectly. The artist’s inspiration may be born out of the mundane life around him, but often, ironically, it is the most insignificant moments that end up bearing the most fruit – the strange way someone stares, mesmerized, at the smoke from a cigarette. Also nicely shown is how that the writer (or filmmaker?) never really knows what his story is truly about while he is working on it. But if he is honest, he may finally discover that he is only ever writing about himself.
The film’s performances are excellent and it is a joy to take such interest in a movie’s characters. Tony Leung – along with cinematographer Christopher Doyle – has been Wong Kar Wai’s collaborator throughout both their careers and, as with other great director/actor collaborations, his performances keep getting richer. The movie is not hurt by the fact that it features several of the best actresses in China.
 Wong Kar Wai’s use of music, usually of popular songs, is predictably effective. The appearance of one of my favorites, Nat King Cole’s rendition of “The Christmas Song” was nicely repeated, almost ritually, as an introduction to the movie’s several Christmas scenes. I was also shocked and delighted to recognize the opening music cue of the film as from Krzysztov Kieslowski’s “The Decalogue” (1989), which like much of the action in “2046″, takes place among the residents of a single apartment block.
 I wish everyone could see the film as I did – in a first-rate theater with a very good print (though there was some dirt on the heads and tails of reels). Christopher Doyle (“the world’s only famous cinematographer”) may win his first Academy Award for “2046″ – not that he hasn’t deserved one for his other work. Despite the fact that gazing at the images in “2046″, whether of grimy peeling rooms in Singapore or the shimmering silk of 1960′s Hong Kong fashion, is a sensual pleasure in itself, I was always eager to watch the characters. Often in movies, I find myself enjoying the cinematography as a welcome break from having to look at unremarkable characters for reel after reel, but in Wong Kar Wai’s movies, the photography inevitably seems to create a time and space that frames the characters more clearly, communicates their experiences more eloquently.
The film is currently available on DVD. Do your best to see it in a theater. But if your local megaplex is stuffed full of “Stealth” (2005) and “The Dukes Of Hazzard” (2005) and you have no choice, I will forgive limited non-theater viewing. In such a case, make it a Wong Kar Wai weekend – “In The Mood For Love” first, then “2046″, then repeat.
July 11th, 2005
Last night, on DVD via Netflix: Gary Oldman’s “Nil By Mouth” (1997).
The movie exquisitely depicts a lower-class South London family’s perpetual struggle with alcoholism, drug addiction, domestic abuse and…um…well that’s about it: alcoholism, drug addiction and domestic abuse. It reminds one of “Trainspotting” but is not nearly as funny, though it would make a fine double feature with its cousin from the north. Just show “Trainspotting” second, so that the audience will be able to leave the theater with a spring in their step and a song in their hearts rather than in body bags, killed by self-inflicted soda straw wounds or asphyxiation via deliberate popcorn overdose.
Now I personally enjoy “depressing movies”–that’s what my mum calls them–films like “Nil By Mouth” whose purpose is to show the degraded human condition. If executed correctly–and “Nil By Mouth” is–these films result in my leaving the theater with a heart full of compassion for us all. I understand that this sub-genre–which reminds us of the suffering of others, rather than our own beloved suffering–is not appealing to everyone. In fact, I was privy to a long argument this weekend about the merits of Todd Solondz’s comedy “Happiness” on this very point. One combatant held that “Happiness” was a vicious exercise in exploitation and misanthropy, the other said that it showed authentically and admirably the reality of domestic nightmares that we all try to ignore. I tend toward the latter view of that particular film and I appreciate the same effect in others in this subgenre–”Requiem for a Dream”, “The Sweet Hereafter”, “The Ice Storm”, “Five Easy Pieces”, even the BBC comedy “The Office”. These are stories which break your heart, but–to paraphrase Hubert Selby Jr.–break it OPEN.
I had seen a portion of “Nil By Mouth” a few years ago on TV–on the Independent Film Channel?–and was mesmerized by the authenticity of its characters, particularly its tough women whose great virtue–and tragic flaw–is an unending ability to endure. Even that glimpse of Kathy Burke’s performance, as Valerie, stuck with me. I have, from that time to this, wanted to see the movie in its entirety primarily to see her whole performance. Burke won the Best Actress Award at the 1997 Cannes Film Festival for the role and was nominated for a 1998 BAFTA Award (losing to RSC juggernaut Judy Dench for her performance in “Mrs. Brown”). “Nil By Mouth” won the BAFTA Alexander Korda Award for the Outstanding British Film of the Year.
It’s easy to find many average director-actors (applauded and awarded) who manage to direct other actors to average performances (also applauded and awarded). Gary Oldman was in the 1990′s a very fine actor with much training and stage experience and “Nil By Mouth” shows how much can come of such understanding and expertise. Conversely, it illuminates just how underused and misunderstood actors are in 95% of movies made. Watching “Nil By Mouth” I am reminded, “Oh, that’s what movie acting is supposed to look like. I’d almost forgotten.” I haven’t seen “A Bronx Tale” Robert De Niro’s directorial debut or Anthony Hopkins’s “August” and I am curious and cautious about them both, but there are many examples of superior actors directing actors to superior performances in superior movies–many of them British actors. British actors are–we hear ad nauseum–highly trained in technique. Technique is that thing that allows you to do well even when you don’t feel like it, and I’m sure this technical knowledge gives them an extra edge in being able to construct the appropriate conditions for eliciting optimum performances. This is perhaps why “Nil By Mouth” features great performances, and “A Beautiful Mind” features good performances.
It’s not difficult to make a pretty woman look pretty on the screen. It is a fine feat of actor-director collaboration when in “Nil By Mouth” leaden-faced Kathy Burke forgets the struggle of the moment and her sudden smile seems to light up the whole world. Her smile, set artfully in the midst of a world of concrete and fists and needles and terror, is one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen in the movies in a long time.
June 28th, 2005
Last night, I saw “Sunset Boulevard”, the latest film in the Motion Picture Academy’s “Great To Be Nominated” film series, in which the Best Picture runners-up–Best Picture nominees that had the most Oscar nominations but didn’t win–are given their due. The series is presented by Randy Haberkamp, the Academy’s Program Coordinator of Educational and Special Projects–likeable, possessed of a formidable knowledge of film history, and passionately devoted to the movies. As is common in the bitter ironic struggle that is Life, the runners-up are sometimes of higher quality than the winners.
The print of “Sunset Boulevard” was in excellent condition, almost literally without a speck of dust on it. The image was of very good quality, the grain almost imperceptible, with a wonderfully wide range of tones. The only possible flaw was that the print seemed just a little dark–as evidenced by heavy shadow areas or dark costuming becoming featureless black shapes. This might have been the result of the projection–the long throw length of the Samuel Goldwyn Theater, or an ever-so-slightly dim lamp–but I doubt it. The projection at the Academy is almost always first-rate. I don’t expect to ever see a better print of the film. But, oh, to have seen a brand new nitrate print in 1950!
“Sunset Boulevard” is timeless not because show business has remained unchanged for half a century, though this is true (“There’s nothing tragic about being fifty. Not unless you’re trying to be twenty-five”), but because the human ego has remained unchanged for half a century. “Sunset Boulevard” makes a fine companion piece with “Citizen Kane”, timeless not because politics has remained unchanged for half a century (“You supply the prose poems, I’ll supply the war”), but again because the ego–perhaps specifically the “American” ego–continues to remain a central problem in our lives. Both movies inimitably depict how insatiable is the ego’s need to be rescued by a material condition outside of itself, and how when it does get what it most craves, it only hungers all the more.
Norma Desmond and Charles Foster Kane cling to fictional personas they have created for themselves, ego constructions which once briefly afforded comfort but now sustain them like an astronaut’s space suit on a hostile world. In an effort to keep out genuine illumination–which would be death–they applying layer after layer onto their own facades, until they become fossilized beneath it all, the layers upon layers producing the appearance of a thing distorted and inhuman. They are fighting for their lives, the dread and terror of being nothing, nobody–which is something we will all eventually face–chasing them into the next illusion and the next and the next.
Illustrating this in the movies is no easy feat. When the rare film does pull it off–once every twenty years–it shines. Most Hollywood movies, most narrative entertainment of any kind, depict a pursuit of ego gratification which results finally in the ego’s success, often in a surprising but not unpleasant way, and as a result happiness and stability prevail. Life is not like this, but we don’t go to the movies to see life.
The only escape route for Norma Desmond–and for Joe Gillis too–is the surrender of all that they desire. How wonderful that Joe Gillis saves his soul by denying the girl he has fallen in love with. His story begins with “Please, just let me keep my car” and ends with “I don’t want to keep anything”. How horrifying that Norma Desmond upon being threatened with words (“Words! Words! Words!”) even hinting at the truth, flees into the whirlpool of her own ego forever. And how strange that the people enjoying life the most in “Sunset Boulevard” are the young Hollywood dreamers at Artie’s New Year’s Eve party who, if asked, would say they are nowhere near getting what they really want.
|
|
I watched French auteur Robert Bresson’s “Lancelot of the Lake” (1974), via NetFlix.
But back to “Lancelot” – the Grail quest has ended badly, knights dead and lost, and no Grail to be found anywhere. In fact, maybe there is no Holy Grail at all. Maybe the Grail never existed. The story begins at the end – the end of the days of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, the end of the golden age embodied in the persona of Lancelot, the perfect knight. And in the wake of the failed Grail quest, these ideals of chivalrous nobility degenerate into mere infatuation between a man and a woman, selfish – and all too human – desire that will destroy the whole kingdom, destroy the whole world. That is perhaps the central message of the movie, perhaps the message at the heart of the Arthur / Guinevere / Lancelot story. When our idol, our ideal knight, decides to become an ordinary flesh and blood man, when our perfect queen decides to become an ordinary woman, then doom is near.
