Raxivace's 2018 List of Movies or (Neo-General Chat: The Second Raid)

[Raxivace]

"Review" is a very generous term to describe a few paragraphs and some pictures.

That description of The Raven is interesting though because it really sounds in line with Diabolique. I'll have to check it out and some point.

[Eva Yojimbo]

Yeah there is a lot going on in Titas, I'd definitely get more out of it with a revisit. I don't think I even realized the crazy character in the film who had lost his mind was the husband or whatever from the beginning of the movie until it was pointed out in one of the special features (Or maybe it was the essay in the booklet).

I haven't seen any Ray yet, though one of these days I'll sit down for the Apu trilogy. BTW there was an interesting documentary last year about The Simpsons, and specifically the character of Apu in the show that argued he was a racist stereotype. One of the points somebody brings up is how little there is to the Simpsons character in contrast to the Apu of Ray's films that he was named after being relatively rounded and complex. I didn't agree with all of the arguments in the documentary (They off-handedly mention Tropic Thunder as another example of racism in modern Hollywood, which I think is a bit too complex to throw under the bus so quickly like that) but it was interesting overall.

Agree on Titas deserving a revisit.

Man, I can't wait until you get to The Apu Trilogy. I've seen a lot from Ray, and he has plenty of other masterpieces (I'm particularly fond of Devi, The Music Room, and Charulata), but none of them quite match the magic of Pather Panchali and the cumulative power of the Apu Trilogy.

I vaguely remember the controversy surrounding The Simpsons' Apu thing. I never saw the documentary though. Their Apu might've been a stereotype, but it wasn't really negative given that he was one of the more respectable characters in that world.

Dry Summer I remember even less about, unfortunately. Even your plot synopsis did very little to jog my memory. I'm guessing it's probably the film that's stayed the least with me from that box set.

Redes is probably the one I liked the least so far, though even that is interesting as an early example of neo-realism.

Also its kind of amusing that all of these first four films revolve around water in some way. The spring and dam in Dry Summer, the river Titas, the fishermen in Redes...even the protagonists of Touki Bouki desperately want to cross the ocean to get their beloved Paris.

Yeah, I think I only remember Redes more because of how much it reminded me of early neo-realism films; it especially had a strong Visconti (circa La Terra Trema) vibe to it, but without the melodrama.

Interesting catch about the water motif. IIRC, there wasn't any water in Trances or Housemaid though.

Edit: On second thought, IIRC there's a scene in Housemaid that involves rain.

83. The Spy Who Loved Me (1977, Dir. Lewis Gilbert) -

Interesting comparison between TSWLM and Indiana Jones. I'd never thought about it like that before, but I can definitely see it. Agree about the cinematography. I'm guessing Jaws was a nod to the Spielberg film.

88. Daisy Kenyon (1947, Dir. Otto Preminger)

My Ratings List informs me I've seen this one and liked it, but my memory is again fuzzy. It hasn't stuck with me as well as Preminger's Laura or Fallen Angel

89. Diabolique (1955, Dir. Henri-Georges Clouzot) -

This one I've seen a few times. Great films, with one of the most iconic scenes in film history (the bathtub "resurrection"). I also wonder what Hitchcock would've done with it; I could conceive of it being an even greater masterpiece, but I can't imagine Hitch could've invented a scene to match the aforementioned one. My only problem with Diabolique--and it's a similar one I have with Wages of Fear--is that both drag in places. Hitchcock was a master of many things, but one of his most underrated qualities was his ability to create suspension while keeping the pacing spry. Wages of Fear and Diabolique have enough great moments to make up for their length, but I also think they could've been even stronger with some judicious editing.

90. Our Town (1940, Dir. Sam Wood) -

Haven't seen this one, but you make it sound really interesting!

91. Stranger on the Third Floor (1940, Dir. Boris Ingster) -

Ditto.

92. The Grapes of Wrath (1940, Dir. John Ford) -

One of my favorite films (second favorite Ford after Clementine... but the gap between them is minuscule). Great job with the screen caps and very perceptive about how the "cats" are more like tanks. Here's a (very long) review I wrote for it back in the day:

The Grapes of Wrath [1940; John Ford; 129 min; US]

10/10

"Maybe there ain't no sin and there ain't no virtue, they's just what people does. Some things folks do is nice and some ain't so nice, and that's all any man's got a right to say." - Casy

Growing up in Oklahoma, I was fortunate enough to have been born when my great-grandmother was still alive. She had gone through the great depression and would frequently tell stories, especially to my mother, about life during that period. The attitude that were engendered during that time - the struggle to survive and the extreme conservation of things that, today, we completely take for granted like paper - was something that never left her. In turn, my mother would relate these stories to me, but they were always something that felt part of a very distant age completely disconnected to my own.

In the 1930s, John Steinbeck became inspired by the spirit of the migratory workers who left their homes in the heartland of America and set out west in search of work. His portrait of the Joad family has become one of the greatest representations of America and its people from any period. Shortly after the book's publication, Daryl F. Zanuck bought the rights to make a film, hired John Ford to direct, Henry Fonda to star, and a cinematic masterpiece that equals the accomplishment of the book - and perhaps exceeds it - was created. When I first saw the film more than 10 years ago I felt that I finally had a link to the world my mother described and that my great-grandmother lived through. The power of the experience never left me, and in returning to it all these years later I've found an even greater appreciation for it.

The film, like the book, tells the story of the Joad family who are poor sharecroppers from Oklahoma. Tom (Henry Fonda) is returning home after four years of imprisonment and finds his family gone from their home. He meets an ex-preacher named Casy (John Carradine) and a neighbor named Muley (John Qualen) who informs Tom that the drought and the banks have run everyone out of their homes. Eventually, Tom finds his family, including his mother (Jane Darwell), father (Russell Simpson), grandpa (Charley Grapewin), grandma (Zeffie Tilbury), uncle (Frank Darien), his pregnant sister Rosasharen (Dorris Bowdon), her husband Connie (Eddie Quillan) and his youngest brother and sister Winfield and Ruthie. The family decides to set out to California where, supposedly, 800 workers are needed to pick fruit, but once they get they're confronted with the abject poverty of the working people, the greed of the owners, and the hatred of those who feel the migrants are communist reds.

John Ford famously said that he was not an artist, that directing wasn't an art, and that he was just a craftsman. If that's true, I wish more directors could be “just craftsmen" like Ford was. Very few directors have matched Ford's artistry, his visual poetry, his quietly assured pacing, and his poignant humanism. Here, Ford has transformed Steinbeck's languid, evocative prose into supreme visual lyricism. Indeed, Ford's directorial patience and tenderness has never been more deeply felt than in The Grapes of Wrath. Though he was often criticized for his sentimentality, I would argue that too many confuse genuine sentiment for sentimentality. Ford never uses it as a crutch, and here, especially, his sentiment has never felt more organic and honest. Of course, Tom's famous “I'll be there" speech remains as affective today as when it was first written, but most of the film's real power lies in its stark and silent imagery.

As for that imagery, I had forgotten how deeply John Ford - with the help of ace cinematographer, Gregg Toland - cast the shadows in this film. Sometimes they loom larger than the characters themselves and often seem to engulf them. It often reminds me of the great lines from Stairway to Heaven: "As we wind on down the road, our shadows taller than our souls." Especially striking are the early scenes of Tom, Casy, and Muley in Tom's family's abandoned house. The entire scene is bathed in darkness, with a lone candle standing in as the on-screen light source. In truth, the entire scene is a virtuosic display of Toland's mastery of light and shadow, using his set lights to mimic the flickering of the candle. One of the most touching scenes come when Ma Joad burns her prized possessions before the trip in a lovely silent scene, accompanied by the melancholic “Red River Valley" refrain.

Equally, the landscapes join the shadows as pictorial forces that express in images what is ineffable in language. In Ford, landscapes are almost never empty places where people pass through. They are just as often as important a character themselves. Many in the film standout and the movie even opens with an extreme long-shot of a desolate highway. Shortly after he uses a broken, barbed wire fence to cut the screen in two, metaphorically representing the harshness of the land and the condition of Tom and the family. Elsewhere, Ford frames Tom as a small figure ascending a distant hill, also with the lyrical strains of “Red River Valley" accompanying him.

Music and sound are also elements that Ford orchestrates brilliantly. The Grapes of Wrath shows what an invaluable tool silence is, because sound - including dialogue - and music are frequently absent. Ford then slowly builds the soundtrack through the rumblings and grumblings of their jalopy, the natural sounds of crickets and frogs, and other organic elements. But it's because of this silence that Ford is able to get the maximum effect of the The “Red River Valley" motif. The piece is usually played on a lone accordion, and as the film wears on it becomes so plaintive and so heartbreaking it's almost devastating when juxtaposed next to Ford's already powerful images.

The acting is equally transcendent as Ford's direction. Henry Fonda may be film's greatest actor before the modern era, and it's unimaginable that anyone else could've embodied the spirit of Tom Joad better. This isn't his most flashy performance, it's not his most technically virtuosic, but it is one of his most personal and nakedly emotional. In Tom you have a character that embodies the anger and frustration of people living in inexplicably hard times that they have no control over. But in him you also have the innate goodness of honest, hardworking people. There's a reason that both Woodie Guthrie and Springsteen have written songs about him. But it's because of Fonda's performance that the spirit is so vividly alive on film.

Jane Darwell won a deserved Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her portrayal of Ma Joad, who takes on a much more prominent role than in the book. While Tom may represent the rebellious spirit who's willing to work for change, Ma Joad is the voice for the family, the force that tries to hold everything together. And Darwell gives an enormously generous and genuine performance, full of pathos and down-home goodness. While the rest of the cast are more minor in supporting roles, there almost isn't a weak spot in the ensemble. John Carradine, especially, brings an idiosyncrasy to Casy, the preacher that's much appreciated.

"That's what make [the land] our'n, bein' born on it,...and workin' on it,...and, and DYIN' on it!" - Muley

The heart of the film, much like the heart of the book, exists in its depiction of people simply looking for a place to exist and a means to survive. But it's equally about the invisible forces outside their compass of perception that works towards not allowing them to. In the book, the political context was much more prominent, but the film keeps most of it in the background, much to its credit, I think. In keeping the politics slightly under the surface, Ford is able to focus on the profound effects it has on individuals and families, and the outrage it produces at the invisible enemies behind the suffering. This is mostly encapsulated by the flashback scene between Muley and the agent:

“Agent: Now don't go to blamin' me! It ain't my fault. You know who owns the land. The Shawnee Land and Cattle Company. It ain't nobody. It's a company. Oh son, it ain't [the president of the company's] fault, because the bank tells him what to do. What's the use of pickin' on [the bank]? He ain't nothin' but the manager. And he's half-crazy hisself tryin' to keep up with his orders from the East.
Muley: Then who do we shoot?
Agent: Brother, I don't know. If I did, I'd tell ya. I just don't know who's to blame."

In spite of its strong literary source, The Grapes of Wrath stands as a cinematic masterpiece on par with it. In fact, in my estimation, it stands as one of the absolute greatest films ever made. We mostly have the genius artistry and direction of Ford to thank for that, not to mention the outstanding performances. But what's most striking about the film is its lingering effect. Even with its scenes of apparent pathos, like Tom's speech and Ma's closing, positive “we're the people" affirmation, there is an element of irresolution. Ford and even Zanuck (despite his attempts) don't make this just about these characters, but about all people like them. But perhaps most affecting of all is the wistfulness of the passage of time and the ephemerality of existence. I can't think of any films outside the masterpieces of Ozu where the passage of time, change, andits effect on individuals, the family, society, and tradition is so strongly and so profoundly felt.

[Gendo]

Every time I hear people talk about Diabolique, I immediately think of Diabolik, which was the hilariously terrible movie used for the MST3K finale.

I own Grapes of Wrath but haven't gotten to it yet.

[Raxivace]

I'll respond to other posts in the morning, but Jimbo were you aware that Kihachi Okamoto (AKA the guy who directed The Sword of Doom of all people) was such a huge influence on Anno? A portrait of the man is even used to represent a very significant dead character in Shin Godzilla.

I know there's that one interview where some critic talks about Anno, Okamoto, and Godard but I don't think I realized who Okamoto was at the time. Sword of Doom didn't really remind of Godard when I watched it, but now this train of thought really makes me want to go back there and look again at that in dig into Okamoto's films and see how much of Godard is really in there (Especially if there's some equivalent to the "title cards interrogating characters" thing that we see in both Masculin Feminin and Evangelion. Perhaps this missing link can finally be found).

[Eva Yojimbo]

I'll respond to other posts in the morning, but Jimbo were you aware that Kihachi Okamoto (AKA the guy who directed The Sword of Doom of all people) was such a huge influence on Anno? A portrait of the man is even used to represent a very significant dead character in Shin Godzilla.

I know there's that one interview where some critic talks about Anno, Okamoto, and Godard but I don't think I realized who Okamoto was at the time. Sword of Doom didn't really remind of Godard when I watched it, but now this train of thought really makes me want to go back there and look again at that in dig into Okamoto's films and see how much of Godard is really in there (Especially if there's some equivalent to the "title cards interrogating characters" thing that we see in both Masculin Feminin and Evangelion. Perhaps this missing link can finally be found).

Did not know that Okamoto was a huge influence on Anno. Been a while since I saw Sword of Doom, but it definitely had its avant-garde/deconstructionist elements to it. I didn't think of it as particularly Godardian, but it also was more than your typical swordplay film; perhaps closer to how NGE's deconstruction of the mecha genre was achieved while also working thoroughly within the mecha genre. Godard's "genre" exercises were always much looser by comparison, with the avant-garde elements more up-front and obvious from the start.

[Raxivace]

I vaguely remember the controversy surrounding The Simpsons' Apu thing. I never saw the documentary though. Their Apu might've been a stereotype, but it wasn't really negative given that he was one of the more respectable characters in that world.

If you ever get around to watching movies again, check the documentary out. I'd be curious to hear what you think of it.

Yeah one of these days I'll get to Apu Trilogy.

Interesting catch about the water motif. IIRC, there wasn't any water in Trances or Housemaid though.

Edit: On second thought, IIRC there's a scene in Housemaid that involves rain.

Interesting. Gotta close the first Scorsese boxset out at some point too.

Still, even if its just 4/6 movies...that's kind of a strange coincidence.

This one I've seen a few times. Great films, with one of the most iconic scenes in film history (the bathtub "resurrection"). I also wonder what Hitchcock would've done with it; I could conceive of it being an even greater masterpiece, but I can't imagine Hitch could've invented a scene to match the aforementioned one. My only problem with Diabolique--and it's a similar one I have with Wages of Fear--is that both drag in places. Hitchcock was a master of many things, but one of his most underrated qualities was his ability to create suspension while keeping the pacing spry. Wages of Fear and Diabolique have enough great moments to make up for their length, but I also think they could've been even stronger with some judicious editing.

Yeah I could see finding it to drag a bit.

Watching the movie actually explained a story Hitch once told on...Dick Cavett, I think. He talked about an angry letter from a father he received after making Psycho who complained that his daughter stopped taking showers and now she really stinks because she stopped taking baths after seeing Diabolique lmao.

Haven't seen this one, but you make it sound really interesting!

Yeah its not exactly like a forgotten masterpiece or anything but its an interesting, weird little movie.

Ditto.

Now this actually surprises me. Stranger on the Third Floor pops up in books about noir a lot so I was guessing you would have seen it. Between it and Our Town its the better movie IMO.

92. The Grapes of Wrath (1940, Dir. John Ford) -

One of my favorite films (second favorite Ford after Clementine... but the gap between them is minuscule). Great job with the screen caps and very perceptive about how the "cats" are more like tanks. Here's a (very long) review I wrote for it back in the day:

The Grapes of Wrath

Thanks for sharing that review. Its interesting that you talk about the movie connecting you to the past of stories passed down from your great-grandmother. I've never really had that kind of relationship with my extended family (For a lot of complicated reasons not really worth unearthing anymore), so while intellectually I can understand it the emotional reaction is different for me, and perhaps a bit more abstract in how I relate to it.

This is going to be a weird comparison, and one I don't want to stretch too far, but watching the movie really reminded me of post-apocalyptic movies of all things. Like the first twenty minutes could have been straight out of Night of the Living Dead or something like that, what with the abandoned family house and all. Even the somewhat underplayed criticism of capitalism doesn't seem that far off from any given Romero movie.

[Raxivace]

Did not know that Okamoto was a huge influence on Anno. Been a while since I saw Sword of Doom, but it definitely had its avant-garde/deconstructionist elements to it. I didn't think of it as particularly Godardian, but it also was more than your typical swordplay film; perhaps closer to how NGE's deconstruction of the mecha genre was achieved while also working thoroughly within the mecha genre. Godard's "genre" exercises were always much looser by comparison, with the avant-garde elements more up-front and obvious from the start.

Yeah I'm going to have to take another look at it. I enjoyed it a lot the first time and think that in some ways it might be a stronger movie without the planned sequels, but you never know.

Looking at more of Okamoto's filmography on Wikipedia, he made a film in 1978 called Blue Christmas in some countries. There's another title its known by though, and that's...Blood Type: Blue.

Blue Christmas (ブルークリスマス Burū Kurisimasu), also known as Blood Type: Blue or The Blue Stigma, is a 1978 Japanese science fiction film by director Kihachi Okamoto. It deals with prejudice against UFO witnesses whose blood is turned blue by the encounter. The close encounters occur on Christmas, hence the title.

I'm gonna try and find a copy of this. In the mean time here's an archived review from some site called WTF-Film.

EDIT: Looks like there was an Eva-Geeks thread on the movie at some point.

[Eva Yojimbo]

Watching the movie actually explained a story Hitch once told on...Dick Cavett, I think. He talked about an angry letter from a father he received after making Psycho who complained that his daughter stopped taking showers and now she really stinks because she stopped taking baths after seeing Diabolique lmao.

Ditto.

Now this actually surprises me. Stranger on the Third Floor pops up in books about noir a lot so I was guessing you would have seen it. Between it and Our Town its the better movie IMO.

I think I've come across the title before... perhaps on TSPDT's Noir page, but I guess it's one of those I never got around to putting on my list.

Thanks for sharing that review. Its interesting that you talk about the movie connecting you to the past of stories passed down from your great-grandmother. I've never really had that kind of relationship with my extended family (For a lot of complicated reasons not really worth unearthing anymore), so while intellectually I can understand it the emotional reaction is different for me, and perhaps a bit more abstract in how I relate to it.

This is going to be a weird comparison, and one I don't want to stretch too far, but watching the movie really reminded me of post-apocalyptic movies of all things. Like the first twenty minutes could have been straight out of Night of the Living Dead or something like that, what with the abandoned family house and all. Even the somewhat underplayed criticism of capitalism doesn't seem that far off from any given Romero movie.

Yeah, it is a strange film for me in that I don't have that kind of relationship with any other film. I wonder how it will be for the current/future generations who will grow up in an age where so much of their parents' lives were documented online in pics and vids, so instead of telling stories parents can just show them video saying "see, this is what it was like back in my day."

I think that comparison makes plenty of sense. Apocalypse films are always predicated on some disaster that destroys the status quo of life, and economic depressions are the equivalent of apocalypses for all the people they affect. In fact, outside of natural disasters, economic depressions are probably as close as most people get to real-life apocalypses.

Did not know that Okamoto was a huge influence on Anno. Been a while since I saw Sword of Doom, but it definitely had its avant-garde/deconstructionist elements to it. I didn't think of it as particularly Godardian, but it also was more than your typical swordplay film; perhaps closer to how NGE's deconstruction of the mecha genre was achieved while also working thoroughly within the mecha genre. Godard's "genre" exercises were always much looser by comparison, with the avant-garde elements more up-front and obvious from the start.

Yeah I'm going to have to take another look at it. I enjoyed it a lot the first time and think that in some ways it might be a stronger movie without the planned sequels, but you never know.

Looking at more of Okamoto's filmography on Wikipedia, he made a film in 1978 called Blue Christmas in some countries. There's another title its known by though, and that's...Blood Type: Blue.

Blue Christmas (ブルークリスマス Burū Kurisimasu), also known as Blood Type: Blue or The Blue Stigma, is a 1978 Japanese science fiction film by director Kihachi Okamoto. It deals with prejudice against UFO witnesses whose blood is turned blue by the encounter. The close encounters occur on Christmas, hence the title.

I'm gonna try and find a copy of this. In the mean time here's an archived review from some site called WTF-Film.

EDIT: Looks like there was an Eva-Geeks thread on the movie at some point.

It's definitely worth another watch. I still quite vividly remember the ending. Now that I think of it, the part just before the end battle, with him fighting the shadows that perhaps represent his internal demons, definitely has an Evangelion-esque quality to it.

Blood Type: Blue sounds interesting. It reminds me of the fact that in Japan there's something called the Blood Type Personality Theory, which is kind of like astrology, but with blood types. I wonder if Okomoto had that in mind with the film/title?

[Raxivace]

I wonder how it will be for the current/future generations who will grow up in an age where so much of their parents' lives were documented online in pics and vids, so instead of telling stories parents can just show them video saying "see, this is what it was like back in my day."

Yeah that's an interesting question. Part of me thinks the internet will only lead to confirmation bias and polarization and "echo chambers" and so on becoming an increasing problem, and its already kind of a big one in online discourse.

Blood Type: Blue sounds interesting. It reminds me of the fact that in Japan there's something called the Blood Type Personality Theory, which is kind of like astrology, but with blood types. I wonder if Okomoto had that in mind with the film/title?

Huh, I don't think I had heard of this before. If I could ever find a damn copy of Blood Type: Blue I would try answering the question. :(

[Raxivace]

Anyways I spent the last several weeks watching through the "Byston Well" saga, the other franchise created by Yoshiyuki Tomino (Of Mobile Suit Gundam fame), containing one full series and three OVA's. The basic idea in all of these is that Byston Well is a fantasy realm that I think is supposed to exist inside of Earth, with our world being on the upper layer. All of these feature some schmuch trying to use modern technology to militarize and conquer Byston Well and eventually the "Upper Earth", often using bug mechs called "Aura Battlers".

Why have bug mechs for a fantasy themed mecha series and not, say, suits of armor or something like that? I have no idea.

Aura Battler Dunbine (1983) - From what I can tell this was one of, if not the, first series to combine a fantasy setting with mecha, paving the way for much better shows like Vision of Escaflowne. Unfortunately Dunbine itself is kind of crap. It's 49 episodes long, and that's about 40 too many. The fantasy world of Byston Well is just super generic, and none of the characters that populate it are all that interesting. Since the show doesn't focus much on characters or its world, we instead get fairly repetitive battle scenes and kind of bland politicking. I'm not sure there's a single 15 minute stretch of this entire series without fighting of some kind, which would be fine if the other parts were better.

Also basically everybody fuckin' dies in the ending. One character is even shot in the head by her own mother.

Aura Battler Dunbine deserves credit for what a weird blend that fantasy and mecha is, though that's something that had to actually be forced on Tomino from the studio that he was working for. A lot of the other concepts that Tomino uses here get sort of reused in Mobile Suit Zeta Gundam to much better effect, so its probably most interesting from that kind of auteurism perspective. Overall just not a show I would recommend, unless you're an insane person like I am.

The Tale of Neo Byston Well (AKA The New Story of Aura Battler Dunbine, 1988) - Tomino didn't actually direct this one, unlike the other two OVA's. It's...alright, but still not very good. Its set centuries after the original Dunbine, and one of the villains from the original series, the hilariously named Shot Weapon, is still alive except he's basically a rotten corpse and has plans to fuck some more shit up. A bunch of the dead characters from the original are reincarnated, and they basically just run around and fight each other I guess. Very little actually happens, even when a nuclear bomb is detonated.

The animation in the battle scenes is strangely bad too, not only for an OVA but even compared to the original TV show. Like they don't actually animate the mechs moving, they just have still frames or something being dragged across the screen. Bizarre for something like this.

Garzey's Wing (1996) - Worst dub ever, though the dub is so bad it gives an otherwise awful OVA some nice camp value.



Also no mechs in this show. I'm guessing Tomino was still mad about them being forced into the original Dunbine.

The Wings of Rean (2005) - The plot is basically the original Dunbine's condensed into six episodes (Though with ostensibly different characters), with even blander characters and a weird nationalistic right-wing bent about how Japan was the real victim of World War II and did nothing wrong. Abortion is addressed several times for some reason, and one scene features the ghosts of aborted babies being reborn as fairies.

Yeah I have no idea what the fuck happened. Tomino has never struck me as a particularly right-wing person, and apparently says that he didn't want Wings of Rean to seem like his own views being espoused but man who knows. Its bizarre.

[Raxivace]

93. Annihilation (2018, Dir. Alex Garland) - I saw the trailer for this a while back, thinking it just looked like a watered down, less interesting version of Stalker and yup that's what it mostly was.

I found myself thinking of Cloverfield Paradox a lot too, and while Annihilation is a better film its not by much. Both are sci-fi action movies about characters trapped in some foreign environment (A space station in Paradox, the Zone-like “Shimmer" in Annihilation), both are female lead, both were sold off to Netlflix (Well, Annihilation was sold off to Netflix everywhere but America to my understanding), both have female leads, but the biggest similarity between them is how the choice of narrative structure ruins any sense of claustrophobia the films could have.

With Cloverfield Paradox, we were constantly cutting from the spooky space station to follow the adventures of a character on Earth, negating a mystery early on about where the space station in that film had accidentally destroyed the pale blue dot by turning on their offbrand Large Hadron Collider. The flashback structure in Annihilation isn't quite that thoughtless, but still undercuts the mystery of the Shimmer by constantly cutting to an interview where Natalie Portman talks about how everyone else on their expedition was killed. I didn't really find this structure to add any kind of sense of doom or anything to the journey, and it constantly reminded us that Portman gets out alive, making this supposed journey into the unknown very knowable. Like this is a basic aesthetic decision that even Wizard of Oz gets right, why can't these supposedly thoughtful sci-fi horror films like Annihilation or Cloverfield Paradox do that much?

To the movie's credit though, there are two legitimately very good scenes- the bear attack, and the sequence where Natalie Portman finally reaches the lighthouse she's been seeking throughout the whole film. As good as these two bits are though, the character writing just can't get past silly dime store Freud to really sell these characters and their struggles, and that's a shame for a movie as ambitious as this and one populated almost entirely by a female cast.

Annihilation isn't the worst film ever or anything, its just not a particularly exceptional one at the end of the day.

94. Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975, Dir. Peter Weir) - I saw Annihilation compared to this a few times online as well, so that motivated me to finally sit down and watch it. Its pretty solid, though I kind of wish it felt a little more explicitly surreal. While I liked the film, it didn't quite hypnotize me the way it seems to have done for others. Unlike Annihilation focusing on the people who go missing, PaHR by contrast focuses on the people who were left behind and wish they could have been spirited away, escaping from the oppressive society they were trapped in. I think its easily the better film (And it certainly handles ambiguity a hell of a lot better than Annihilation does), I just wish I came away loving this movie instead of just liking it.

Also there's a lot of this movie that ended up in Damon Lindelof's work, particularly Lost and The Leftovers. I can't help but think he watched how the girls were going to study the geological features of Hanging Rock and perhaps though their vanishing was a punishment for thinking science could explain this spiritual, mysterious place.

[Gendo]

3 random responses:

Hmm, so far I've heard much better reviews for Annihilation from most people.

I hope Cloverfield Paradox gets to DVD eventually; I finally got 10 Cloverfield Lane recently and should be watching that soon.

For some reason I can't explain, that Garzey's Wing clip made me nostalgic for my otaku days.

[Raxivace]

I thought 10 Cloverfield Lane was a mostly great film with a pretty blah final 10 or so minutes. Easily the strongest the of the four Cloverfield works (That's right, I'm reminding the world RIGHT NOW that there was a terrible Cloverfield manga released back in 2008 in addition to the three films).

I wouldn't expect Paradox on DVD any time soon though. Netflix still probably wants to keep it on streaming for a while to get people to subscribe. Why you would subscribe to Netflix just to watch that fucking movie though is the real paradox.

[Raxivace]

95. Police Story (1985, Dir. Jackie Chan) - While I had seen some of his Hollywood stuff, I had heard that Jackie Chan was a pretty solid action director in his own right, as one of the few not-terrible video essays on YouTube argued. Turns out, he really is pretty good at making action flow in a clear and concise way, while also making the choreography itself look challenging and exciting. The highlight here is easily the big shopping mall battle at the end of the film.

96. The Awful Truth (1937, Dir. Leo McCarey) - A pretty fun romantic comedy with Cary Grant and Irene Dunn, playing a couple that bicker, divorce, and then fall back in love. Not too much for me to say in-depth about it, but I liked that Grant and Dunn seemed to be portrayed as equals in their dueling.

I've read some sources that suggested that his film basically created Cary Grant's screen persona, and I'm not sure I buy it. I don't think there's any huge leap between him here and something like Thirty Day Princess (1934) or Kiss and Make-Up (1934).

Also the dog in this movie is played by the same dog from the Thin Man films, who was also the dog in Bringing Up Baby! That dog had a better film career than some humans did.

97. 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her (1967, Dir. Jean-Luc Godard) - Yeah this definitely is not one of the easier Godards, instead being far more in line with his more radical films that de-emphasize narrative and are more essayistic in nature (Despite ostensibly having a fictional plot and characters). Here a prostitute wakes up with her family one morning, goes out to work with a few clients, and then comes home. The plot is simple, the actual conversations and narration and referencing and so on (Or what it all means) is not, making it far more difficult to understand than, say, any Christopher Nolan puzzle.

I'm not sure I could offer anything resembling an interpretation of the film. At one point Godard, as our narrator, mentions something about "language being the limit of his world, and his world being the limit of his language" (I can't remember the exact quote, and I think this is supposed to be a reference to the (I think now discredited) Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, and considering that Godard does seem to be interested in how language and images relate and interact (Particularly in film, like in the extended sequence here where Godard contemplates several different ways a meeting at a gas station could be depicted beyond typical conventions), perhaps one of things he's trying to get us to consider is not only filmic representation of, say, prostitutes, but how we view them outside of film as well, or as a part of capitalism, or something.

Even with this in mind, I don't know how to relate it to at least three different instances where characters specifically ask not to be looked at (The prostitute while's she's changing (Though who doesn't mind being seen naked), the American photographer who can't stand the prostitute and her friend looking at him (That it's a photographer saying this suggests...something about reflexiveness, I think), and the girl at the diner talking to guy about Communism at the end of the film).

I dunno, I'm not to smart enough to figure this film out after a single viewing by myself. It's intriguing at least, would be interesting to revisit.

Amy Taubin's essay sort of helped me figure out how to even begin talking about this, so I figure I might as well link to her piece for all 0 of you that will be inspired by this post to check out the movie.

[Raxivace]

Also I think Godard was using the prostitute's child playing with a toy gun to reference The Great Train Robbery (Like Scorsese did with Joe Pesci in Goodfellas), which was cute.

[Raxivace]

98. Wings in the Dark (1935, Dir. James Flood) - A nice little movie where Cary Grant and Myrna Loy are non-combatant ace pilots who fall in love with each other, until Grant's character accidentally blinds himself and can no longer safely fly, leaving Loy to have to take up a dangerous flight on her own.

It's pretty fun. There's some nice if not overdone foreshadowing with Grant starting out as a pilot famous for “flying blind" (He's an inventor trying to develop an autopilot system) before becoming literally blinded, and his adaptation into a visually impaired life style, and how Loy reacts to it, is intriguing to watch. Not the best work of either of the two, but its certainly not bad.

99. Son of Dracula (1943, Dir. Robert Siodmak) - A part of the Universal monster series. The mysterious immigrant “Count Alucard" rolls into an American town one day and tries to get some wicked good real estate through marrying an impressionable woman. In a strangely kind of film noir-ish plot though, one woman uses Alucard to achieve vampiric immortality and then convinces some dopey guy to kill Alurcard, totally owning him.

This is a weird film for a variety of reasons, especially looking back at it from a modern perspective. There's the vaguely noir-ish atmosphere and plot, and Alucard's actual identity is strangely difficult to determine. The title calls him “Son of Dracula" (And considering modern interpretations of the Alucard character from works such as the Castlevania video games and Netflix series, you might expect this to be the case.), but nothing in the actual story confirms this. You might think he's meant to be a different character from Dracula, since he's not played by Bela Lugosi like in the other Universal movies and instead by Lon Chaney Jr….except, in the actual movies, characters calls say Alucard's real name is just “Dracula" several times.

We're told that previously Dracula was killed like a century ago (Seemingly referring to the older Universal movies, set in the far past), so while that would leave room for Alucard to be Dracula's son, nothing actually confirms that he isn't just Dracula brought back to life, and we never saw a son in the previous movies. Maybe he's supposed to the son of the woman from Dracula's Daughter? That would make Alucard actually the Grandson of Dracula, and that woman was implied to be a lesbian anyways.

Who is Alucard, really? Its weirdly ambiguous.

[Raxivace]

So Danny Boyle is directing the new James Bond movie. Not really sure how to feel about this, as of his movies I've only seen Slumdog Millionaire and Steve Jobs. I liked both of those at least.

Maybe it will be alright? Sam Mendes wasn't exactly a natural-sounding fit for Bond either, but I quite like what he did with Skyfall and Spectre. Hopefully Boyle will work out similarly.

This reminds me that I need to get around to watching Moonraker as well...

[Gendo]

I've never really liked Boyle's style. That's not to say I haven't liked any of his movies; I liked Slumdog, 127 Hours, and Steve Jobs. Didn't really like 28 Days or Sunshine. But I might like Sunshine when I re-watch it some day, with going into it already knowing the style.

But even with movies like 127 Hours that I liked, I felt I would have liked it more if it felt less like Boyle. I can't really describe it though.

[Raxivace]

100. The Invitation (2015, Dir. Karyn Kusama) - A fun little thriller. Will, a divorcee who lost his child in a tragic accident, along with his girlfriend Kira are invited to a dinner party by Will's ex-wife Eden and her new husband David. The other guests are mostly Will and Eden's old college buddies. Eden has been off the grid for the past few years, only to suddenly reappear one day hosting this party.

Will thinks something is off about Eden and David though, and most of this movie is a fairly classic Hitchcockian set-up of Will gradually succumbing to paranoia. Why does David keep locking the front door? Why doesn't Eden seem upset about their kid dying anymore? Why did she have bars put up over the window? What's with this new religion they joined? Who are these other guests that nobody seems to know? And why hasn't Choi arrived at the party yet? Will's friends think he is just being irrational, and this ambiguity runs through much of the movie.

While not up to par with Hitchcock's best, I think The Invitation is a fun time. Would make an interesting double feature with Gone Girl, a similarly Hitchcock-influenced thriller about marriage.

101. Big Brown Eyes (1936, Dir. Raoul Walsh) - A Cary Grant movie that feels pretty different than most of the others, since my guy Raoul Walsh is bringing his harder edge to this movie. Grant plays a police detective who, along with reporter girlfriend Joan Bennett, going after jewel thieves who kill a baby with stray bullet fire in Central Park. One of the thieves gets acquitted (Because the justice system is just so corrupt), so Grant quits the police force to take these thieves down.

Yeah this is a bit of a weird role for Grant to take, feeling more like a character Bogart would have played in the 40's. I like how it anticipates the “Cop who leaves the force to get the job done" genre in films like The Big Heat, Dirty Harry, and even that Police Story movie with Jackie Chan I talked about a few psts ago that would make this type of plot more famous. There's debatably a fascistic bent to some of these films (As both Pauline Kael and Roger Ebert once argued in regards to Dirty Harry), but eh whatever.

102. Moonraker (1979, Dir. Lewis Gilbert) - While not a great film by any means, I honestly think Moonraker gets a bit of bad rap. It's not close to being my favorite Bond, but the kooky space stuff is fun, the varied settings before that are fun, Jaws is at his goofiest and falls in love etc. Like there's definitely an element of the Bond franchise feeling like its trying to cash in on the success of Star Wars (The climax of this film even is pretty analogous to the end of Star Wars where Luke turns off his targeting computer to destroy the Death Star), but when filtered through the campier aspects of Bond its pretty fun.

The villain wanting to create a new breed of superior human in outer space kind of reminds me of some of the Zeon plot in Mobile Suit Gundam, which also premiered on television this same year.

[Raxivace]

103. Game Night (2018, Dir. John Francis Daley & Jonathan Goldstein) - A pretty clever comedy about a mystery party game that gets hijacked by a real kidnapping attempt. Don't have a whole lot to say about this one, though I thought it was clever that some of the establishing shots made the house and cars and so forth in the suburban neighborhood seem like pieces on a gameboard.

104. Wedding Present (1936, Dir. Richard Wallace) - The last film of this early Cary Grant boxset I've been watching through (Also containing Thirty Day Princess, Kiss and Make-Up, Wings in the Dark, and Big Brown Eyes) and unfortunately its easily the worst of the five. Grant and Joan Bennet both play reporters in this screwball comedy. Grant pisses Bennet off, Bennet goes to marry someone else, Grant uses shenanigans (Including some very questionable uses of public resources in the big finale) to win her back.

There's no reason this set-up couldn't work (It's not that different from much better pictures like His Girl Friday, and The Awful Truth), but even Grant's charisma and chemistry with Bennet isn't enough to save something with such structural flaws. Like why is a lot of this plot spent on missing foreign diplomats and gangsters with bounties on their heads? It just feels really aimless for a 30's comedy.

105. 28 Days Later… (2002, Dir. Danny Boyle) - So with Boyle directing the new Bond, I decided to go back to one of his movies that I haven't seen before, picking this one because I like zombie movies. For the most part I think it's well done, mostly avoiding the Randian survivalist power fantasy bullshit that bad zombie movies fall into...until the end anyways, where I think it leans hard on that and I'm not into it as much.

The zombies here are people infected with a “rage virus", because apparently just saying zombie like a normal person would do is lame. Thematically I don't find the idea of people succumbing to rage super compelling- what, metaphorically speaking, is it that people are so mad about? When an enraged priest attacks a man who has just awaken from a coma, what is it that is trying to be expressed here?

For all of the plot that is uncreatively taken from sources such as George Romero's first three Living Dead films and Outbreak (The derivative usage of influences is perhaps unsurprising once you learn that the screenplay of this movie was written be Alex Garland, the guy who would go on to adapt and direct Annihilation), there is a much more literalist approach taken to the narrative that I think makes it less compelling than something like Day of the Dead. So you end with this thematically confused ending where main character Jim, previous uneasy about having to kill to live, embraces his own rage and uses rage zombies to kill military men in a fit of fury, but then escapes with Selena and Hannah and lives peacefully ever after.

Still, there are some good bits. The opening of the movie with Jim waking up in the post-apocalyptic world for the first time is genuinely great to watch, as is the bit where he makes it to his parents' house and discovers their fate. The shot in Hannah and Frank's apartment of the fish tank is a nice economical bit of visual storytelling too.



Without directly confirming in dialogue, the shot tells you that they've been taking enough water out of the tank to drink for themselves, but have been making sure to leave enough in there for the fish to survive, relfecting their kinder nature compared to Selena and the values she is trying to impress onto Jim.

Also what the hell is with this randomly stylized shot during the driving sequence?



Like yeah the car is driving through the background here, and I get that the usage of brighter colors here is meant to reflect that this is a happier time for the characters before shit goes to hell again, but the presentation of the flowers like this is an odd choice. It reminds me of the vaguely distorted backgrounds of the original version of the visual novel Umineko no Naku Koro ni (Which otherwise is absolutely nothing like 28 Days Later...), which conveniently has a bit in a rose garden I can use for easy comparison.

[maz89]

Raxi, I have some disappointing news: I liked Lady Bird. More than Three Billboards. The latter, I thought was just okay. I did like seeing McDormand's bad-ass, vengeful character and the sight of those three jarring red billboards against the peaceful green landscape. I also appreciate the fact they never found the killer, and how the filmmakers went for an ambiguous and unusually soothing ending. That being said, I'm also just way too cynical to buy that the idiot had a change of heart after receiving the letter from beyond the grave - although I did tear up when Red(?) offered a glass of orange juice to the perpetrator anyway. I also thought the tone was a bit all over the place - the way it bounced from being emotionally sincere to darkly humorous to mercilessly violent and tragic and then back again. The strings felt too obvious, and sometimes the film/characters became way too self-aware, such as the scene in Dormand's character comes across a deer and laughs at the 'obvious' symbolism. I think the Coens do a better job in balancing different tonal aspects in their films.

I thought the former was a simpler no-frills story that was just more effective at what it set out to do, backed by some very strong performances and about a relationship that I haven't seen get much airtime on the big screen (do correct me if I'm wrong there). That being said, I do have a crush on Saoirse Ronan, and I also have a thing for indie dramas in general, so the chances of me not liking it were pretty slim to begin with.

[Raxivace]

I agree that the Coens generally do that kind of tone melding better, but frankly I'm trying to figure out what somebody could possibly see in Saoirse Ronan to the point of having a crush on her and I'm just not seeing it.

[maz89]

She comes across as a humble and fun person in her interviews, and her Irish accent is endearing. I became a fan of hers in Brooklyn, which I thought was an economically paced, nostalgia-inducing story about an immigrant starting afresh in a different world. It was enough for me to get over the hideous shit she did in Atonement.

[Raxivace]

I didn't see Atonement (Perhaps I should be counting my blessings lol), but I did enjoy Brooklyn.

[maz89]

I didn't Atonement (Perhaps I should be counting my blessings lol), but I did enjoy Brooklyn.

Oh that was a joke. Her character did the hideous shit, not her. Lol. Atonement was nice Oscar-bait.

[Raxivace]

106. Trances (1981, Dir. Ahmed El Maanouni) - The fifth film in the first Scorsese World Cinema Project boxset. Part concert film, part observational documentary, part traditional documentary about Moroccan band Nass El Ghiwane, one of the most popular in the Arabic world at the time.

Nass El Ghiwane famously did not use electric instruments, instead relying upon ones such as the banjo, bendir, darbuka, tam-tam, hadjuj (I have to admit to having not heard of most of these instruments before myself). Their popularity came from reflecting a very Moroccan identity, combining inspiration from "autochthonous poetry, ancestral rites, and everyday life" alongside a spirit of political rebellion that had them denouncing "unemployment, corruption, and social inequality endemic to Moroccan society in particular and to Arab societies in general", to quote the essay that comes with the Criterion release.

It's a fun film, and I enjoyed the music I heard, and appreciated the background from the supplementary materials about the band's history, Moroccan history etc. I'm not sure that formally Trances is the most exciting film in the world, but it really does not seem like the kind of film you come to for that kind of thing.

The water theme I've noticed in the previous four films in this first World Cinema Boxset is not as prominent here, though it does pop up a few times



^We see one band member here playing his instrument against the backdrop of the ocean. A verse in a later song references to the sea too.













Yeah you can see some of that social criticism in these lyrics too.

One of the special features on the blu-ray noted that not only was this the first film that Scorsese's World Cinema Project foundation restored, it was also a stylistic influence on him, informing the kind of score he and Peter Gabriel used in The Last Temptation of Christ. Also, one of the band's songs, Ya Sah, is used in that film. That's pretty neat.



107. 28 Weeks Later… (2007, Dir. Juan Carlos Fresnadillo) - I'm torn on this one, because while I generally prefer its script to 28 Days Later… (The shifting of protagonists in particular is pretty interesting, sort of reminds me of Psycho), it has that really obnoxious handheld shakeycam style going that I absolutely, utterly despise. It makes it disorienting to watch even in scenes where it doesn't make sense for it to be that, like before the outbreak happens and everything is calm and collected and people are just chilling or whatever.

The cast here is kind of a weird hodgepodge of different pop-culture figures too. Harold Perrineau while Lost was still airing, Idris Elba while The Wire was still airing and shortly before the Marvel Cinematic Universe began, Jeremey Renner a few years before becoming Hawkeye (Interestingly, he's even playing a sniper in this film), a young Imogen Poots etc.

Don't have much else to say about this one.

[Eva Yojimbo]

Well, I'm here to save the world from Michael Bay. What must be done?

[Eva Yojimbo]

Catching up:

Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975, Dir. Peter Weir)

I definitely enjoyed this one more than you. I think the fact that it's NOT more explicitly surreal is what makes it so interesting, that Weir creates this vaguely supernatural atmosphere without every actually showing anything directly magical or extraordinary. In a way, it reminds me of what many of the films of Jacques Rivette are going for, of evoking some sense of some kind of weirdness within our own world while never (or rarely) ever actually showing it... though TBH I think PaHR did this much better than most of Rivette's. If I ever get around to rewatching a lot of my old favorites on blu-ray, this is right at the top of my list of those I want to rewatch.

The Awful Truth (1937, Dir. Leo McCarey)

2 or 3 Things I Know About Her (1967, Dir. Jean-Luc Godard) - [/url]

I love the Awful Truth. Just one of those perfect comedies in Hollywood's Golden Age done with such pristine economy, pacing, characterization. I remember once saying that the way Hawks orchestrated dialogue and movement in His Girl Friday was almost operatic, and I think much the same is true for many of the best comedies of that era; there's a tremendous musicality to how older comedies were written, directed, and acted.

2 or 3 Things... deserves a rewatch from me. Of all the 60s Godards with the reputation of being great, it's the only one I didn't immediately love. I'd say I admired its experiments without really liking it at all (it got a tentative 7/10 from me, but if I was just going on my enjoyment factor it was more a 5/10). Still, much of it has stuck with me impressionistically (as most Godard tends to), and I'd be curious if a rewatch would make it more palatable.

Thematically, in retrospect, I think it makes a bit more sense than after my first (and only) viewing. For one thing, Godard always equated prostitution with being the perfect metaphor for how filmmaking is viewed in a Capitalistic society; basically an artist/filmmaker prostitutes his talents solely for the desires of john-public at the behest of the pimp-producer. Obviously this is a conflict that's pretty prevalent in his filmography. He was also definitely obsessed with how language structured our views, perspectives, philosophies, and gave meaning to images. In a way, it recalls what we discussed a while back about Hitchcock's Rear Window, how the opening shows us those images without explanation, provoking us to provide meaning/coherence to them, but the minute "language" (the dialogue) comes in and explains them, we accept it unquestionably and stop trying to figure it out on our own. So Godard likes to take this idea of language structuring our view of reality/images/film and fracture it cubistically so that it loses its usual coherence. As always, Godard wants us thinking about both the language and the images rather than making easy sense of them. I didn't recall the motif of not wanting to be looked at, but I'm guessing it has something to do about judgment? The fear of being seen is typically due to a fear of being judged. Nobody would understand that better than a filmmaker whose films are made to be seen and then judged.

All that said, do you agree that it's probably Godard's ugliest film of the 60s? I just don't understand how the guy that had made Contempt, Pierrot, and Made in USA (just to speak of his color films) came to make a film as drab as 2 or 3 Things. I'm tempted to say that this was perhaps a transitional period for Godard where he was becoming far more interested in philosophy/ideas than aesthetics, but given that he made Week End and even La Chinoise that same year, that's a hard argument to make (though perhaps neither of those are as aesthetically bold as Contempt and Pierrot). One thing I love about Godard in the 80s is how he got back to making aesthetics paramount. He's no less intellectually dense--he's perhaps even more so--but almost all of those 80s films are drop-dead gorgeous to look at (and sometimes listen to).

So Danny Boyle is directing the new James Bond movie. Not really sure how to feel about this, as of his movies I've only seen Slumdog Millionaire and Steve Jobs. I liked both of those at least.

This actually sounds like a pretty good fit. I'm not a big fan of Boyle, but I definitely think he has two key qualities for Bond: style and pacing. So far, I actually think his style hasn't worked well in the films he's made. It felt out of place in Slumdog and seemed to be battling the dialogue in Steve Jobs. It fit better in 28 Days Later and Sunshine, but I didn't care much for either of those films. Trainspotting is the only Boyle film I think is wholly successful. In any case, I think Bond is a better fit for directors like him than the more serious auteurs. I could definitely see him doing for the series what Mendes did.

102. Moonraker (1979, Dir. Lewis Gilbert)

I essentially agree with you about Moonraker. It's fun for what it is, even if what it is isn't perhaps your prototypical Bond.

106. Trances (1981, Dir. Ahmed El Maanouni) -

I mostly just enjoyed this one for the music, but as a film/documentary I'm not sure I got too much out of it. Though I can see why Scorsese would like it, as its pacing/editing seems largely based on the music itself.

[Eva Yojimbo]

She comes across as a humble and fun person in her interviews, and her Irish accent is endearing. I became a fan of hers in Brooklyn, which I thought was an economically paced, nostalgia-inducing story about an immigrant starting afresh in a different world. It was enough for me to get over the hideous shit she did in Atonement.

Holy shit, that was HER in Atonement?! I forgot she was even in that!

I do agree that Atonement was quite good for Oscar bait. That long take on the beach is one of my favorite shots in any film from this century:


Very Kubrickean. I especially love how it shifts from pure narrative, to slowing down when the music comes in and being more tonal/meditative. Very cool technique to switch modes like that in the middle of a take.

[Gendo]

I loved Atonement.

[Raxivace]

Well, I'm here to save the world from Michael Bay. What must be done?

Oh dear, is Bay threatening to release another Transformers movie or something?

BTW did you see that in his newest movie Godard apparently uses clips from one of Bay's films? Someone at Cannes asked Godard what he thinks about Bay he denied even knowing who Bay is.

[Raxivace]

I definitely enjoyed this one more than you. I think the fact that it's NOT more explicitly surreal is what makes it so interesting, that Weir creates this vaguely supernatural atmosphere without every actually showing anything directly magical or extraordinary. In a way, it reminds me of what many of the films of Jacques Rivette are going for, of evoking some sense of some kind of weirdness within our own world while never (or rarely) ever actually showing it... though TBH I think PaHR did this much better than most of Rivette's. If I ever get around to rewatching a lot of my old favorites on blu-ray, this is right at the top of my list of those I want to rewatch.

Man I need to get around to watching some Rivette...

Picnic at Hanging Rock just might be one of those movies that clicks more for me with a second viewing a few years down the road. I did like it, but I dunno it just didn't grab me as much as I wanted.

love the Awful Truth. Just one of those perfect comedies in Hollywood's Golden Age done with such pristine economy, pacing, characterization. I remember once saying that the way Hawks orchestrated dialogue and movement in His Girl Friday was almost operatic, and I think much the same is true for many of the best comedies of that era; there's a tremendous musicality to how older comedies were written, directed, and acted.

I can't seem to find the nodding gif at a moment, so pretend this dude is smoking his blunt in agreement with you: . These better comedies are like classical Hollywood doing some of its finest work.

I'm curious to know what you think of Cary Grant as an actor, in general. I think he's definitely a great movie star, and great directors like Hawks or Hitchcock are able to exploit that to an amazing degree. If I had to criticize him for something it might be range, as he doesn't seem to quite have the range that a James Stewart or Humphrey Bogart does.

I feel like I've seen a lot of Grant's movies at this point now, but it doesn't seem like any of them quite peeled the facade of his star persona away to dig deeper in the way that Stewart did for Vertigo, the way that Bogart did for In a Lonely Place, the way John Wayne did for The Searchers etc. Suspicion might be the closest example, though you have the compromised ending to contend with there. Are you aware of any other films that might be better examples?

Thematically, in retrospect, I think [2 or 3 Things...] makes a bit more sense than after my first (and only) viewing. For one thing, Godard always equated prostitution with being the perfect metaphor for how filmmaking is viewed in a Capitalistic society; basically an artist/filmmaker prostitutes his talents solely for the desires of john-public at the behest of the pimp-producer. Obviously this is a conflict that's pretty prevalent in his filmography. He was also definitely obsessed with how language structured our views, perspectives, philosophies, and gave meaning to images. In a way, it recalls what we discussed a while back about Hitchcock's Rear Window, how the opening shows us those images without explanation, provoking us to provide meaning/coherence to them, but the minute "language" (the dialogue) comes in and explains them, we accept it unquestionably and stop trying to figure it out on our own. So Godard likes to take this idea of language structuring our view of reality/images/film and fracture it cubistically so that it loses its usual coherence. As always, Godard wants us thinking about both the language and the images rather than making easy sense of them. I didn't recall the motif of not wanting to be looked at, but I'm guessing it has something to do about judgment? The fear of being seen is typically due to a fear of being judged. Nobody would understand that better than a filmmaker whose films are made to be seen and then judged.

I dunno why viewing these prostitute characters as standin for filmmaking never occurred to me before but it makes enough sense to me at 2:30 in the morning.

That Rear Window comparison makes a ton of sense too, especially given Godard's own interest in Hitchcock. It makes me think he probably viewed that opening we talked about in that way.

All that said, do you agree that it's probably Godard's ugliest film of the 60s? I just don't understand how the guy that had made Contempt, Pierrot, and Made in USA (just to speak of his color films) came to make a film as drab as 2 or 3 Things. I'm tempted to say that this was perhaps a transitional period for Godard where he was becoming far more interested in philosophy/ideas than aesthetics, but given that he made Week End and even La Chinoise that same year, that's a hard argument to make (though perhaps neither of those are as aesthetically bold as Contempt and Pierrot). One thing I love about Godard in the 80s is how he got back to making aesthetics paramount. He's no less intellectually dense--he's perhaps even more so--but almost all of those 80s films are drop-dead gorgeous to look at (and sometimes listen to).

"Ugly" is probably a stronger word than I would use, but yeah it isn't nearly as striking as Contempt, Pierrot, or Made in USA were, or any of the black and white films either (Maybe not Carabineers, if I had to single one of those out, though that at least has some one or two pretty good sequences in it). I'm really struggling to come up with a better descriptor though...plain, maybe? The phrase "like a commercial" keeps coming to mind for some reason with 2 or 3 Things' look too, though I'm too tired right now to think of why that might be.

Man I'm feeling the dread of the pre-80's Maoist period approaching though...I was going to skip some of these Dziga Vertov Group films he made with Gorin and co. with the lazy excuse of "lol I just can't find them on the interwebs", but I found out that recently there was a new blu-ray boxset of some of those movies and I'm tempted to suffer through them in pristine crystal clear quality now.

This actually sounds like a pretty good fit. I'm not a big fan of Boyle, but I definitely think he has two key qualities for Bond: style and pacing. So far, I actually think his style hasn't worked well in the films he's made. It felt out of place in Slumdog and seemed to be battling the dialogue in Steve Jobs. It fit better in 28 Days Later and Sunshine, but I didn't care much for either of those films. Trainspotting is the only Boyle film I think is wholly successful. In any case, I think Bond is a better fit for directors like him than the more serious auteurs. I could definitely see him doing for the series what Mendes did.

I'll have to check Trainspotting out at some point. You raise an interesting point about how Bond might be a good fit for him after all.

I can see what you mean about him not meshing well with Sorkin's script in Steve Jobs, but what was your issue with Slumdog?

[Raxivace]

Man I really thought 28 Days/Weeks Later would get more reaction out of people. I remember them being decent popular when they came out anyways.

[Derived Absurdity]

I love 28 Days Later, it's one of my favorite movies of all time. I don't remember anything about thematic depth or metaphorical subtext, I just love it a lot.

28 Weeks Later is okay, I guess.

[Gendo]

I thought I was the only person who didn't like Sunshine!

[Eva Yojimbo]

What the fuck happened to my post above where I had the Atonement video?

EDIT: Now the Atonment video is back. Am I losing my mind?

[Raxivace]

What the fuck happened to my post above where I had the Atonement video?

EDIT: Now the Atonment video is back. Am I losing my mind?

It appears to be there for me. Maybe the video just didn't load right once or twice for you.

[Eva Yojimbo]

What the fuck happened to my post above where I had the Atonement video?

EDIT: Now the Atonment video is back. Am I losing my mind?

It appears to be there for me. Maybe the video just didn't load right once or twice for you.

Similar thing just happened when I checked out an old music thread where the wrong videos loaded in the wrong posts. They were corrected once I reloaded the page, though.

BTW, I'm typing up my reply. I'll save posting it until I wake up tomorrow and have a chance to proofread. :)

[Eva Yojimbo]

Well, I'm here to save the world from Michael Bay. What must be done?

Oh dear, is Bay threatening to release another Transformers movie or something?

BTW did you see that in his newest movie Godard apparently uses clips from one of Bay's films? Someone at Cannes asked Godard what he thinks about Bay he denied even knowing who Bay is.

It's much more sinister: I've received a message from you in the future claiming Michael Bay becomes the most powerful filmmaker to ever live and he's trying to have you killed for contacting me, your savior. I swear this really happened and I'm not crazy.

Wasn't even aware there was a new Godard until you just told me. That's pretty funny if Godard used a Bay clip and is denying knowing about Bay!

I definitely enjoyed this one more than you. I think the fact that it's NOT more explicitly surreal is what makes it so interesting, that Weir creates this vaguely supernatural atmosphere without every actually showing anything directly magical or extraordinary. In a way, it reminds me of what many of the films of Jacques Rivette are going for, of evoking some sense of some kind of weirdness within our own world while never (or rarely) ever actually showing it... though TBH I think PaHR did this much better than most of Rivette's. If I ever get around to rewatching a lot of my old favorites on blu-ray, this is right at the top of my list of those I want to rewatch.

Man I need to get around to watching some Rivette...

Picnic at Hanging Rock just might be one of those movies that clicks more for me with a second viewing a few years down the road. I did like it, but I dunno it just didn't grab me as much as I wanted.

Rivette's far more bizarre than PaHR, tbf, and despite having seen several films I'm still ambivalent about him. I like what he's trying to do most of the time, but I'm not convinced he wholly succeeds. Of those I've seen, Paris Belongs to Us and Le Pont du Nord are probably the ones most like PaHR in terms of keeping the supernatural/otherworldly/mystery/anxiety extremely vague and allusive/elusive. Celine and Julie Go Boating has a lot of implicit AND explicit weirdness, while Duelle is probably even more explicit (Noirot and The Nun don't have much of a supernatural element).

Definitely keep PaHR in mind for a rewatch. I know it's high on my list for rewatches on blu-ray (I do own the Criterion). Have you seen Weir's The Last Wave? It's vaguely similar in also being a mystery, but I think it's a bit more explicit and slightly more traditional. I liked PaHR more, but The Last Wave is really good too. Another film these vaguely remind me of is Nicolas Roeg's Walkabout. There seemed to be something in air with these 70s Australian films! Wake in Fright is another Australian film that kinda fits the bill (I remember DeRider loved that one).

I can't seem to find the nodding gif at a moment, so pretend this dude is smoking his blunt in agreement with you: . These better comedies are like classical Hollywood doing some of its finest work.

Even many of the lesser comedies have these qualities. One that's stuck in my mind is Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House. I don't think it's as good as The Awful Truth or His Girl Friday or It Happened One Night or The Lady Eve, but it still has those great qualities.

I'm curious to know what you think of Cary Grant as an actor, in general. I think he's definitely a great movie star, and great directors like Hawks or Hitchcock are able to exploit that to an amazing degree. If I had to criticize him for something it might be range, as he doesn't seem to quite have the range that a James Stewart or Humphrey Bogart does.

I feel like I've seen a lot of Grant's movies at this point now, but it doesn't seem like any of them quite peeled the facade of his star persona away to dig deeper in the way that Stewart did for Vertigo, the way that Bogart did for In a Lonely Place, the way John Wayne did for The Searchers etc. Suspicion might be the closest example, though you have the compromised ending to contend with there. Are you aware of any other films that might be better examples?

I think Grant's the best talkie performer ever in Hollywood. I say performer rather than actor because I think his talents were almost wholly physical, kinda like a Chaplin or Keaton. He had their grace and timing, and in terms of hitting a spot or delivering a line or performing a stunt, there wasn't much he couldn't do perfectly. But "acting" in the sense of psychological realism and complex characterizations wasn't something he did, and in that case, yes, you turn to Stewart or Bogart or Fonda.

The facade was never fully penetrated, but I think Hitchcock used the persona best because he was able to find more sides to it. In Suspicion it's the notion that Grant's "cool"ness could be hiding a cold-blooded killer. I think even more impressive is what Hitch does with him in Notorious, where that steely persona seems more like a transparent defense to all the psychosexual yearnings and anxieties. I can't remember if I read this or heard it in one of the commentaries, but there's an interpretation of the wine bottle motif in Notorious being a phallic symbol, starting with the scene in which Grant meets Bergman with her controlling the wine bottle and pouring him a glass, proceeding to the scene when Grant brings a bottle of wine to his boss and leaves it there (essentially emasculating him by forcing him to sacrifice his would-be lover). Later, you have the entire wine cellar scene in which the "elixir of life" is replaced with the MacGuffin. Now, there's the old "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar" notion, but in Notorious I find this interpretation extremely plausible because it fits perfectly with the themes, and because Hitchcock gives A LOT of emphasis to the wine, especially in the boss scene. The scene essentially opens and closes with close-ups of the wine bottle, and when it closes it fades out and in the very next scene we see Grant step into the scene in the same position that the bottle was in:

(5:10 to about 6:45)

What's interesting about Notorious especially is that themes of emasculation are typically associated with men coming under the spell of a woman and thus becoming "weaker" than a woman, but in Notorious it's closer to the reverse: it's Dev's job/boss/duty that's emasculating in, not allowing him to be the hero, forcing him to stand by as his love is exploited; and the action that's typically seen as feminine, the love scene in which Grant finally "rescues" Bergman is the moment where he regains his manhood.

I dunno why viewing these prostitute characters as standin for filmmaking never occurred to me before but it makes enough sense to me at 2:30 in the morning.

That Rear Window comparison makes a ton of sense too, especially given Godard's own interest in Hitchcock. It makes me think he probably viewed that opening we talked about in that way.

Another thing about Godard and prostitution/filmmaking is that he made films about both in close proximity three different times: My Live to Live/Contempt ('62/'63), Made in USA/2 or 3 Things... ('66/'67), and Sauve qui peut/Passion ('80/'82). One could dispute the middle one, but Made in USA is so blatantly full of American filmmaking allusions that it's all but ostensibly one of Godard's "films about film."

"Ugly" is probably a stronger word than I would use, but yeah it isn't nearly as striking as Contempt, Pierrot, or Made in USA were, or any of the black and white films either (Maybe not Carabineers, if I had to single one of those out, though that at least has some one or two pretty good sequences in it). I'm really struggling to come up with a better descriptor though...plain, maybe? The phrase "like a commercial" keeps coming to mind for some reason with 2 or 3 Things' look too, though I'm too tired right now to think of why that might be.

Man I'm feeling the dread of the pre-80's Maoist period approaching though...I was going to skip some of these Dziga Vertov Group films he made with Gorin and co. with the lazy excuse of "lol I just can't find them on the interwebs", but I found out that recently there was a new blu-ray boxset of some of those movies and I'm tempted to suffer through them in pristine crystal clear quality now.

I also called it "drab," but "plain" works too. Might be interesting to look at some 70s commercials to see if there's any similarities; wouldn't shock me if there was given that Godard seemed to find inspiration in all different modes of filmmaking (and commercials would be good inspiration for a film about commercialization).

Be afraid, be very afraid, Rax. :D I actually had those films on DVD from an old UK box set. I only made it through 5 of them. La Chinoise is at least visually interesting (and rather socially interesting given that it was made before the French student riots). Numero deux is formally fascinating, but narratively dull as dirt. Comment sa va is like Contempt but without everything that made Contempt great. La gai savoir and Ici et ailleurs are just a chore to sit through.

Very interested to hear what you think of Week End, though... and after that I can't wait til you get to his 80s material (though I'm kinda interested to hear your thoughts on Numero deux; it's at least and interesting film).

I can see what you mean about him not meshing well with Sorkin's script in Steve Jobs, but what was your issue with Slumdog?

Slumdog made the slums look beautiful, and not in a "finding the beauty of life even in poverty" way that, say, Pather Panchali did. It's like if Monet painted a dump. The style and the subject matter didn't seem to fit together. Really, what he did in Transpotting, which was also stylish but in a grittier way, would've worked better in Slumdog than what he did.

[Raxivace]

It's much more sinister: I've received a message from you in the future claiming Michael Bay becomes the most powerful filmmaker to ever live and he's trying to have you killed for contacting me, your savior. I swear this really happened and I'm not crazy.

LOL sure Jimbo, a futureman contacted you. Riggghhhttttt. I'll just slide over here, away from you and will be calling an asylum...

Wasn't even aware there was a new Godard until you just told me. That's pretty funny if Godard used a Bay clip and is denying knowing about Bay!

Yeah its pretty funny.

The legendary director Jean-Luc Godard isn't interested in making traditional narrative films these days, but even in his most experimental art projects, mainstream cinema is still a major influence. Godard's latest movie, The Image Book, screened at the Cannes Film Festival today, and it's a feature-length montage comprised of clips from other movies, juxtaposed with harrowing news footage and Godard's own weary narration. In one section, footage of real-life executions is soon followed by Jimmy Stewart swimming to Kim Novak's aid in Vertigo, while in another, a gay-porn clip of a man getting rimmed is interspersed with the laughing pinhead from Tod Browning's Freaks. It's a fascinating document, but hardly the sort of thing that will make its way to American multiplexes.

That said, one of our foremost big-budget auteurs may have an unlikely cameo in Godard's latest: Michael Bay, the blow-'em-up director behind Bad Boys and the Transformers franchise. The closing credits for The Image Book — which, true to Godard's narrative-scrambling form, run well before the movie has ended — cite every film that footage was purloined from, and among them is 13 Hours, Bay's 2016 Benghazi thriller.

Could this be real? Did the 87-year-old titan of French cinema actually watch a war film from the man who memorably gave us racist robots, animal-cracker foreplay, and the weird statutory-rape subplot in Transformers 4? In The Image Book, Godard distorts much of the footage he uses from other films, so Bay's distinctive cinematography isn't immediately recognizable, but the credits place 13 Hours in a collection with images and footage of the Middle East. Another reporter at Cannes also tweeted that he caught a moment from 13 Hours in The Image Book, though the footage — likely gunfire and explosions — goes by quickly. And Godard did brag that in the four years he spent assembling The Image Book, he watched more films than Cannes director Thierry Frémaux has ever seen. Maybe Godard cast a wide net!

Still, I was curious about this unlikely collision between two men occupying totally different places in the cinematic canon, and this morning, during a press conference for The Image Book, I got my chance to investigate. Godard was patched in to the room of reporters via FaceTime, and as journalists queued up one by one to use the microphone, an attendant held the phone up so Godard could see his questioner.

That's how I found myself staring at an iPhone's pixelated depiction of one of the most famous directors to have ever lived, ready to ask him a question about the movie John Krasinski got buff for.

“I noticed that you use footage from the film 13 Hours, which was directed by Michael Bay," I said to Godard. “I'm curious what your feelings were about that film, and if you're generally familiar with his works."

As a translator leaned toward the phone and recited my question in French, Godard squinted. He hadn't heard of 13 Hours.

“Remind me of what you actually see in that part of my film?" he replied. “I don't remember the reference." As for Michael Bay, Godard was drawing a blank: “I don't remember the name of that person."

Had Jean-Luc Godard really just pulled off an “I don't know her"? Incroyable.

“I think if I inserted that footage you speak of," continued Godard, “it contained something that I didn't find anywhere else." But since he was curious, I told him a little bit about 13 Hours and the section of The Image Book I was fairly certain it had been used in, since the credit scroll for Godard's movie listed the referenced films in what appeared to be chronological order. Still, Godard was unconvinced. “No," he said. “I don't think that these images come from that film."

“But it was in the credits," I repeated, suddenly mortified that I was correcting Jean-Luc Godard. Did this man deserve to be hectored about Michael Bay? Did anyone?

“Maybe you should show me!" said Godard, brightly. “We could use digital technology."

Had the Wi-Fi in the room been better, and had there not been two dozen reporters queued up behind me, perhaps I would have pulled out my phone to show Jean-Luc Godard a YouTube of Michael Bay's Navy Seal movie. Instead, I just smiled and joked, “Maybe after the press conference."

I walked away from the mic, but Godard was not done. The attendant holding the phone turned it toward me as a jolly Godard kept shouting at my back. “Maybe I didn't put it in!" he said. “Maybe I'm right, maybe I don't need to comment on it."

I turned back to Godard, who offered me one last challenge: “All you need to do is find the portion" of 13 Hours, he said, “and do the click!"

This was said as though we were texting buddies who regularly exchange Michael Bay GIFs, and wouldn't that be something! Still, if Godard lives in a bubble where he has never heard of the man who made Transformers: Age of Extinction, who am I to pop it? Maybe it was just a credits snafu. Maybe he used the footage once, cut it, and some assistant forgot to log the change.

Or maybe he was just having fun with me, and Godard is a closet Bay head. After all, this is the man who famously said, “All you need for a movie is a gun and a girl," two subjects that are Bay's forte. If you add to that formula a robot dog humping Megan Fox's leg, perhaps these unlikely directors aren't so different after all.

Source: http://www.vulture.com/2018/05/is-micha ... -film.html

13 Hours is even namedropped in the damn trailer for The Image Book, so I think Godard is likely goofing around here. Still trolling after all these years...the man is an inspiration.

Have you seen Weir's The Last Wave? It's vaguely similar in also being a mystery, but I think it's a bit more explicit and slightly more traditional. I liked PaHR more, but The Last Wave is really good too. Another film these vaguely remind me of is Nicolas Roeg's Walkabout. There seemed to be something in air with these 70s Australian films! Wake in Fright is another Australian film that kinda fits the bill (I remember DeRider loved that one).

Haven't seen this Last Wave movie but I'll make a note of checking it out. Walkabout is on my list too.

I know you guys bumped heads every now and then but I miss DeRider.

I think Grant's the best talkie performer ever in Hollywood. I say performer rather than actor because I think his talents were almost wholly physical, kinda like a Chaplin or Keaton. He had their grace and timing, and in terms of hitting a spot or delivering a line or performing a stunt, there wasn't much he couldn't do perfectly. But "acting" in the sense of psychological realism and complex characterizations wasn't something he did, and in that case, yes, you turn to Stewart or Bogart or Fonda.

Sounds like we're in agreement- this is basically what I meant by Grant being a great movie star. Chaplin and Keaton are an interesting comparison.

I wish Grant had done a movie with Bogart. It would have been interesting to see them try and play off of each other.

Some good shit about Notorious

I really need to give this a rewatch. This post actually inspired me to check for the blu-ray on Amazon, but its like $100. I'm picking up a copy of Suspicion anyways- that also could use a rewatch.

Between that, the original TV version of Mobile Suit Gundam on blu-ray, and this Godard + Gorin boxset, some Amazon employee must think I'm either the biggest nerd ever or some kind of terrorist in the process of radicalization. Or perhaps both!

Anyways, you've mentioned this interpretation of the wine cellar scene before, but the rest of that seems new to me. Just looking at that segment in the clip it seems to make sense- I can't immediately think of any compelling alternative reason for Hitch to have those shots of the wine bottle anyways.

It feels trite to say this, but every time I've gone back to a Hitchcock film after finishing that epic conquest of his features, I still find myself more and more impressed by his work. Like even just watching that clip made me want to fall back into Notorious again.

Be afraid, be very afraid, Rax.

I'll prevail! I'm not expecting to enjoy any of these films much, but I feel like I would be slacking if I didn't at least make an effort to fill in this gap of my knowledge of film history.

Very interested to hear what you think of Week End, though... and after that I can't wait til you get to his 80s material (though I'm kinda interested to hear your thoughts on Numero deux; it's at least and interesting film).

Yeah I'm curious about those two as well. Week End at least is coming up soon.

Slumdog made the slums look beautiful, and not in a "finding the beauty of life even in poverty" way that, say, Pather Panchali did. It's like if Monet painted a dump. The style and the subject matter didn't seem to fit together. Really, what he did in Transpotting, which was also stylish but in a grittier way, would've worked better in Slumdog than what he did.

Interesting critique, though I just don't remember enough of the film to say either way.

For me, what I liked the most about Slumdog was honestly just the way it was structured around Who Wants To Be Millionaire?. I watched a lot of game shows growing up (Still do from time to time, even), so in an odd way it was really nostalgic for me.

[Raxivace]

Btw FLCL of all things has not one but TWO sequels now (FLCL Progressive and FLCL Alternative), the first of which started airing a few days ago and the second of which will air later this year.

First episode of Progressive was fun and really reminiscent of the original OVA, hopefully it ends up being a worthy successor overall.

[maz89]

Holy shit, that was HER in Atonement?! I forgot she was even in that!

I do agree that Atonement was quite good for Oscar bait. That long take on the beach is one of my favorite shots in any film from this century:
Very Kubrickean. I especially love how it shifts from pure narrative, to slowing down when the music comes in and being more tonal/meditative. Very cool technique to switch modes like that in the middle of a take.

Yep, I had a vague recollection of that long take because of its sheer immersiveness. Loved the score too - how the centerpiece hymn soars before becoming barely audible as the camera tracks away from the platform. A momentary sense of optimism that gets swiftly replaced by concerns about McAvoy's character looking "sick". We know what happens next.

I never managed even to start Godard's 80s stuff. Raxi, keep us posted on how you fare... I did my Godard marathon years ago and, outside of his popular films (that I've seen more than once), I don't really have much to draw on to add to this discussion about 2 or 3 Things, Weekend, etc. I don't know if it say something about the quality of those films that they seem to be all muddled in my head, or if it's because my memory is crap (probably the latter since I remember liking Weekend).

Wonder if deRider hailing from around those parts was one of his reasons for loving Wake in Fright. Or maybe not. Still can't shake that feeling of being trapped in an unforgiving nightmare with that protagonist in outback Australia. Ironic how the protagonist, despite hating everything about the sinister town, can't seem to stop himself from being sucked into its vortex of debauchery, as though he has no control over his life. Oh, and I love Walkabout. I thought it was intensely poignant, sad, and tragic in its visual-driven depiction of modern indifference and alienation, a nostalgic longing for the so-called "un-civilized" times, and the simultaneous beauty and horror of nature. Well, actually I liked what Ebert had to say about it - that the film wasn't so much about a nostalgic longing for simpler times as its surface reading might suggest as it was about something more core to the human experience: the "mystery of communication", as observed in how both of its characters - of two vastly different worlds - experience similar kinds of existential isolation until they connect.

Anyway, speaking of "bumping heads with people", I've made several attempts to persuade franzkabuki to bring his scathing critical microscope around to these parts but, as can be observed, my efforts have been in vain, lol.

[Raxivace]

I never managed even to start Godard's 80s stuff. Raxi, keep us posted on how you fare... I did my Godard marathon years ago and, outside of his popular films (that I've seen more than once), I don't really have much to draw on to add to this discussion about 2 or 3 Things, Weekend, etc. I don't know if it say something about the quality of those films that they seem to be all muddled in my head, or if it's because my memory is crap (probably the latter since I remember liking Weekend).

FWIW I've had a similar issue with Godard films before becoming muddled in my memory. Haven't had that issue with these recent ones I've watched in the last year or so, but well I can't say for certain if they'll blend together or not as time goes on.

Anyway, speaking of "bumping heads with people", I've made several attempts to persuade franzkabuki to bring his scathing critical microscope around to these parts but, as can be observed, my efforts have been in vain, lol.

He'd be nice to see again. I only talked with him a few times myself, though I'm not sure he ever thought that much about me.

[Eva Yojimbo]

It's much more sinister: I've received a message from you in the future claiming Michael Bay becomes the most powerful filmmaker to ever live and he's trying to have you killed for contacting me, your savior. I swear this really happened and I'm not crazy.

LOL sure Jimbo, a futureman contacted you. Riggghhhttttt. I'll just slide over here, away from you and will be calling an asylum...

I've got the email to prove it!

Wasn't even aware there was a new Godard until you just told me. That's pretty funny if Godard used a Bay clip and is denying knowing about Bay!

Yeah its pretty funny.

Given how many films Godard supposedly saw and mixed (and his age) it wouldn't surprise me if he just forgot it; but I trust the reporter's memory of seeing it more than Godard's in making it! “And do the click" needs to become a meme, like, now!

Have you seen Weir's The Last Wave? It's vaguely similar in also being a mystery, but I think it's a bit more explicit and slightly more traditional. I liked PaHR more, but The Last Wave is really good too. Another film these vaguely remind me of is Nicolas Roeg's Walkabout. There seemed to be something in air with these 70s Australian films! Wake in Fright is another Australian film that kinda fits the bill (I remember DeRider loved that one).

Haven't seen this Last Wave movie but I'll make a note of checking it out. Walkabout is on my list too.

I know you guys bumped heads every now and then but I miss DeRider.

Walkabout is my favorite of all these films. Talk about one that sticks in your mind! It's almost as vivid and fresh as back when I first saw it. Truly a beautiful and haunting work.

I also miss DeRider. He was strange though, as most of the time I thought we were getting along and just having a friendly disagreement and suddenly he'd snap and attack me like I insulted his mother or something.

Some good shit about Notorious

I really need to give this a rewatch. This post actually inspired me to check for the blu-ray on Amazon, but its like $100. I'm picking up a copy of Suspicion anyways- that also could use a rewatch.

Between that, the original TV version of Mobile Suit Gundam on blu-ray, and this Godard + Gorin boxset, some Amazon employee must think I'm either the biggest nerd ever or some kind of terrorist in the process of radicalization. Or perhaps both!

Anyways, you've mentioned this interpretation of the wine cellar scene before, but the rest of that seems new to me. Just looking at that segment in the clip it seems to make sense- I can't immediately think of any compelling alternative reason for Hitch to have those shots of the wine bottle anyways.

It feels trite to say this, but every time I've gone back to a Hitchcock film after finishing that epic conquest of his features, I still find myself more and more impressed by his work. Like even just watching that clip made me want to fall back into Notorious again.

I had no idea the Notorious blu-ray was already out of print. I got in the set that also had Spellbound and Rebecca (IIRC) back when it was available. I also have the old Criterion releases on DVD of all three films. The commentaries are worth keeping them. I think I've seen Notorious 4-5 times now (counting commentaries), and it's made a leap in my ratings each time, to at this point being my 4th favorite Hitch and probably in my top 30 films.

LOL at the idea that Amazon employees think!

Wasn't sure if I'd mention the wine stuff before, but it's possible the last time I did I had forgotten about the boss scene, which in retrospect is pretty crucial.

I absolutely agree about Hitchcock. Every time I even catch bits of his films on TV I'm inspired to go watch one. They're just so rich in terms of theme and technique that every rewatch seems to deepen the appreciation for the overall film. Even his “lesser" films tend to get better (I remember how impressed I was by Sabotage after I got to see it for the second time in a decent print).

After I wrote all this I had a thought: I wonder if Criterion re-required the license for Notorious and Spellbound? They used to have both of them (and Rebecca), but I guess MGM (and whomever owns them now) cancelled the license to release them on blu-ray, but now the blu-rays are OOP and Criterion released Rebecca on blu-ray a little while back. It's entirely possible they have plans for Notorious and Spellbound as well.

Be afraid, be very afraid, Rax.

I'll prevail! I'm not expecting to enjoy any of these films much, but I feel like I would be slacking if I didn't at least make an effort to fill in this gap of my knowledge of film history.

Thing is, most of them aren't even that interesting in terms of film history. Except for something like Numero deux with its experiments with video most of the films are closer to plain propaganda than art-films. I guess Teut va bien is somewhere in the middle.

Very interested to hear what you think of Week End, though... and after that I can't wait til you get to his 80s material (though I'm kinda interested to hear your thoughts on Numero deux; it's at least and interesting film).

Yeah I'm curious about those two as well. Week End at least is coming up soon.

One thing I'll say about Week End is that it makes sense it was his farewell to “bourgeois narrative" filmmaking as it FEELS like a cinematic apocalypse; like once he made it, there was nowhere else to go with.

For me, what I liked the most about Slumdog was honestly just the way it was structured around Who Wants To Be Millionaire?. I watched a lot of game shows growing up (Still do from time to time, even), so in an odd way it was really nostalgic for me.

I did and still do watch a lot of game shows, now mostly when I'm working out and/or when I eat. I have seen a lot of WWTBAM, but I don't know if Slumdog made me especially nostalgic for it. These days I'm into the Card Sharks reruns on early in the morning on Game Show Network (Bob Eubanks is a funny guy!).

BTW, funniest game show moment ever:

[Eva Yojimbo]

Holy shit, that was HER in Atonement?! I forgot she was even in that!

I do agree that Atonement was quite good for Oscar bait. That long take on the beach is one of my favorite shots in any film from this century:
Very Kubrickean. I especially love how it shifts from pure narrative, to slowing down when the music comes in and being more tonal/meditative. Very cool technique to switch modes like that in the middle of a take.

Yep, I had a vague recollection of that long take because of its sheer immersiveness. Loved the score too - how the centerpiece hymn soars before becoming barely audible as the camera tracks away from the platform. A momentary sense of optimism that gets swiftly replaced by concerns about McAvoy's character looking "sick". We know what happens next.

I never managed even to start Godard's 80s stuff. Raxi, keep us posted on how you fare... I did my Godard marathon years ago and, outside of his popular films (that I've seen more than once), I don't really have much to draw on to add to this discussion about 2 or 3 Things, Weekend, etc. I don't know if it say something about the quality of those films that they seem to be all muddled in my head, or if it's because my memory is crap (probably the latter since I remember liking Weekend).

Wonder if deRider hailing from around those parts was one of his reasons for loving Wake in Fright. Or maybe not. Still can't shake that feeling of being trapped in an unforgiving nightmare with that protagonist in outback Australia. Ironic how the protagonist, despite hating everything about the sinister town, can't seem to stop himself from being sucked into its vortex of debauchery, as though he has no control over his life. Oh, and I love Walkabout. I thought it was intensely poignant, sad, and tragic in its visual-driven depiction of modern indifference and alienation, a nostalgic longing for the so-called "un-civilized" times, and the simultaneous beauty and horror of nature. Well, actually I liked what Ebert had to say about it - that the film wasn't so much about a nostalgic longing for simpler times as its surface reading might suggest as it was about something more core to the human experience: the "mystery of communication", as observed in how both of its characters - of two vastly different worlds - experience similar kinds of existential isolation until they connect.

Anyway, speaking of "bumping heads with people", I've made several attempts to persuade franzkabuki to bring his scathing critical microscope around to these parts but, as can be observed, my efforts have been in vain, lol.

I'm not sure if I remember much about Atonement besides that long-take, but it was definitely a well-made film that felt more tonally, aesthetically, and narratively interesting than most Oscar bait material.

Funny you say that about Godard. There are many directors whose films get muddled in my head when I do "marathons," but this hasn't really happened with Godard; all of his are pretty distinct in my mind, despite their similarities. Shame you didn't make it to his post-80s material; they're gorgeous films. Autumnal, haunting, oneiric, insular, frequently even more baffling and incoherent than his 60s work, but I just sink into their world like the best music. I would at least recommend trying to see Neuvelle Vague, which is my favorite of his post-80s work. It desperately needs a blu-ray release, though. Sauve qui peut, Passion, and Helas pour moi are brilliant as well.

I'm sure DeRider being from Australia was a big reason he loved Wake in Fright so (probably the same reason I have a soft spot for Malick's To the Wonder; it feels like home). But it's definitely a deserving film anyway, and I agree with what you say about it. If I prefer Walkabout it's only because it's a bit more mystical, maybe mythical, than horrifying, yet still has that feeling of a fever dream. If Wake in Fright is a nightmare, I guess Walkabout is a sweat lodge spiritual journey!

Haha, I'd almost forgotten about franzkabuki! Along with fontinau over on the classical music board he was like my #1 Frienemy! We had a lot of good debates, and I remember going back and forth with him about Godard (and Malick).

[Derived Absurdity]

LOL at the idea that Amazon employees think!

[Eva Yojimbo]

LOL at the idea that Amazon employees think!

The was the same look on my face last time I opened an Amazon package!

[maz89]

Funny you say that about Godard. There are many directors whose films get muddled in my head when I do "marathons," but this hasn't really happened with Godard; all of his are pretty distinct in my mind, despite their similarities. Shame you didn't make it to his post-80s material; they're gorgeous films. Autumnal, haunting, oneiric, insular, frequently even more baffling and incoherent than his 60s work, but I just sink into their world like the best music. I would at least recommend trying to see Neuvelle Vague, which is my favorite of his post-80s work. It desperately needs a blu-ray release, though. Sauve qui peut, Passion, and Helas pour moi are brilliant as well.

Cool, guess I should check it out then. Maybe it'll remind me why I was obsessed with Godard at one point in my (early cinephile) life.

I'm sure DeRider being from Australia was a big reason he loved Wake in Fright so (probably the same reason I have a soft spot for Malick's To the Wonder; it feels like home).

I misread To the Wonder for Tree of Life, and I was going to say there's a universality to TOL that makes it feel like home to me too, despite being shot in a side of the world I have zero affiliation with. Knowing that To The Wonder was shot near your home does help explain why you like it as much as you do. I'm more partial to Knight of Cups myself - but we've had this discussion before. ;)

If Wake in Fright is a nightmare, I guess Walkabout is a sweat lodge spiritual journey!

Well put! May re-use this in the future (and without citation).

Haha, I'd almost forgotten about franzkabuki! Along with fontinau over on the classical music board he was like my #1 Frienemy! We had a lot of good debates, and I remember going back and forth with him about Godard (and Malick).

Haha, that sure sounds like franz. Btw, I was a spectator on the Music board, and I always liked fontinau's terse arguments. He never wrote two words if one would suffice. I also liked that, despite his knowledge on music, he seemed to be totally unpretentious, e.g. his loud unapologetic support of Ms Swift...

Btw, did you check out the third season of Twin Peaks? I'm sure Rax and I would love to hear your thoughts.

[Raxivace]

I'm jealous of you guys having films that remind you of home. I grew up in Indianapolis, and the only good film about that city that I'm aware of is The Magnificent Ambersons, and its entirely about what a soulless hellhole that place is.

And you know what? Welles was right.

I should read the original Booth Tarkington novel sometime.

[Raxivace]

LOL at the idea that Amazon employees think!

The was the same look on my face last time I opened an Amazon package!

I've never really had those issues with Amazon. I think the worst that ever happened to me with an Amazon delivery was a box ending up at my neighbor's house by mistake.