Film Reviews: July 2007 Archives

Sitting in a packed-out, expectant auditorium as the UK premiere of Paul Schrader's The Walker began to roll, I wondered exactly what gave this film its instant pulling-power. Was it the glittering cast list (including Lauren Bacall, Woody Harrelson and Kristin Scott Thomas), was it that the political thriller has become one of the most compelling genres of our times, or was it simply the involvement of Schrader himself, who can list among his former achievements the script of Scorsese's Taxi Driver? As I came under the film's spell, however, I abandoned my coolly analytical stance and abandoned myself to the whole experience. For it is not one element among any of these that gives the film its appeal, but a heady mix of several ingredients.

The script is superb - witty, and giving a firm foundation for subtle characterisation. Lauren Bacall's outrageously bitchy lines are a case in point. At times, particularly during the exclusive canasta club meetings attended by the major characters, listening to the dialogue felt like reading a Tom Wolfe novel, and indeed we are in the territory of A Man In Full and Bonfire of the Vanities here. This is the world of Washington politics and high society, a world in which Woody Harrelson's character (who is known as 'Car', short for 'Carter Page III') moves as a homosexual socialite who accompanies wealthy women to the opera and other functions. In this world, Car is at home, whilst at the same time acting the role of observer. He lives under the shadow of a famous and highly-respected father (now dead) whose role as witness in the Watergate trial is remembered by almost everyone Car meets. This sense of oppression by a too-famous father gives Car's character added psychological interest. Harrelson's acting reminded me oddly of Marlon Brando: there was a weightiness and weariness here, tinged by flashes of sparkling irony.

Without giving too much away (something for which I've been criticised in the past!), I'd say that the film charts Car's journey to a new realisation that his so-called friends are not to be trusted as much as he might have expected. The sinuous and labyrinthine twists and turns of the plot draw viewers in at the same time as they're held slightly at arm's length. Many apart from myself, I'm sure, will have felt puzzled and perplexed at some point or other during the film. This does not spoil one's enjoyment however. Apart from the script and the acting, the cinematography was also distinctive - each shot framed in a cool, almost clinical way, enabling us to feel that we really are witnesses and that the characters are on trial. This is one to watch once, and then go back and watch again!

This sparkling costume drama, directed by Laurent Tirard, does for the French comic genius what Shakespeare in Love did for the English Bard: it imagines some youthful adventures that could have influenced the direction actor Jean-Baptiste Poquelin was later to take in becoming the mature writer we know as 'Moliere', filling a gap in the known biography. The main action is framed within a flashback, giving the whole piece a theatrical effect, as if we are seeing a play-within-a-play (or in this case a film-within-a-film). This playful, self-referential agility is carried through in other parts of the film, as various characters realise (under the guiding influence of Moliere, who passes incognito under the name of 'Tartuffe') that in order to get what they want they will need to become actors in the social drama that surrounds them, acting out mini playlets to pull the wool over the eyes of those around them. All this makes you wonder whether Moliere, had he been living in the twenty-first century rather than the seventeenth, would have become a master of the art of cutting and montage - a creator of parallel realities as intricate as the world of a Peter Greenaway.

Although portrayed as a master of illusion in the dramatic sense, Moliere's vocation as a moralist is emphasised in this film. He comes across as a young man with an aversion to pretension and artificiality in his fellow men (and women). He has ample opportunity to observe folly and pretension in the household of M. Jourdain, a rich and socially-aspiring merchant who has hired him as an acting coach to help him present an execrable play (written by Jourdain himself) to a young and aristocratic widow who has won his heart and who presides over a salon of snobbish poseurs. The action comes to a head as Moliere, encouraged by Jourdain's warm-hearted and sympathetic wife, intervenes to try and prevent the marriage of Jourdain's daughter (already in love with another) to the son of an impoverished local nobleman seeking to restore the family fortunes by a wealthy alliance. This theme of sincere young love opposed and thwarted by middle-aged greed and snobbery is one which Moliere was to explore in plays like L'Avare to such effect. Indeed one of the exchanges between Jourdain and his daughter seems to recall that play directly in its use of an 'echoing' technique, Jourdain bouncing back his daughter's words but in the negative.

The actors' performances were all excellent in this lively film, with Fabrice Luchini particularly outstanding as the benighted Jourdain who arrives just in time at a realisation of his own inhumanity, like one of the comic 'monsters' in Moliere's own dramas. The film shows that, in his subtle exploration of human nature, Moliere trod very close to the dividing line between comedy and tragedy, creating a new kind of drama that was to replace the empty farce, popular in Moliere's day, by something richer and more humane. Moliere's world - and the world of this film - is one of tenderness and compassion as well as one of hilarity and absurdity.

As you may have seen 'The Poet' doesn't go in for the no-spoiler ethos that I employ for my own film reviews. So beware! If the post is by 'poet' then the film review may contain spoilers!

This slick and glossy modernisation of Shakespeare's tragedy, set in contemporary Melbourne, seems aimed at the secondary-school market and may well prove to be a success among teenage students of the play: the use of Shakespeare's script will at least make it useful for this group. Its siren-like, schoolgirl witches are emblematic of the teen-friendly make-over. However, the film lacked pace and thrust. This may be due to the excessive lingering over decor and costume (the trappings of a decadent lifestyle) or to a more fundamental flaw in the film's conception: the confusion over the exact nature of the 'business' Macbeth and his associates are engaged in. Without this framework, the moral drama seems to lack point. Shakespeare's hero is a warrior in a feudal society, initially serving a Christian king, Duncan, then going on to take over as ruler over an increasingly paranoid and fearful state. In this modern-day Macbeth, the action seems initially to take place in a gangland world fuelled by, and revolving around, drugs. However, what does this make Duncan and the other good-guys like Macduff? Are we meant to assume that they're criminals too who just don't get their hands dirty as often and as obviously as Macbeth? Or are they members of some sort of security service or underground police force, with which Macbeth is somehow linked? Is he a traitor in a complex world of competing forces? This whole area needed to be clarified. The drugs-and-gangster theme in fact seems to fade away into the background as the film continues, and Macbeth appears to be more like some kind of Michael Hutchence-wannabee, an almost effetely chic rock star rather than a convincingly menacing criminal. As for Lady Macbeth, whom we first see reclining in a bath in a druggy stupor (and last see also in the bath, incidentally, no doubt a good excuse for some gratuitous nudity), she is not consistently portrayed as a drug addict, which might have made more sense in the context of the film. Sam Worthington as Macbeth is smooth and sexy (certainly one aspect of the villain's persona), but lacks angst and power. Tellingly, the famous monologue 'Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow' is delivered by him as internal thought as he lies dead or dying (it's not clear which) next to his wife, and ends the film: a case of saving the best lines till last, or a recognition that this hero was only ever half-alive anyway?

This enjoyable yet moody French offering sees veteran French actor Gerard Depardieu in top form. He plays a bar-room and dance-hall crooner, Alain Moreau, in a provinicial French town (Clermont-Ferrand) who, though reaching the end of a long and moderately successful career, is determined to keep giving of his best. His ex-wife, Michele, continues to be a presence in his life, acting as his manager and confidante although established in a new relationship with someone else. Although Alain is popular with the ladies and has a loyal local fan-base (mainly among the over-50s), he remains unattached, living alone in a crumbling farmhouse in the countryside with his pet goat. Along comes Marion, an attractive young single mother who happens to attend one of his gigs with her boss, estate-agent Bruno. Alain falls for her, just as she is attracted by his warmth and charm, but the friendship that develops seems doomed not to develop into something more meaningful or lasting. They meet on a regular basis to view properties, Marion acting as his agent trying to find a suitable new home for Alain. The variety of different locations in which we see them seems to symbolise their quest for a new way of living, an undetermined future unfettered by the regrets and conflicts of the past. The surrounding landscape of the Auvergne region, in which Alain and Marion take a walk one day, also seems symbolic - its rugged, extinct volcanoes suggesting past passion and drama metamorphosed into mournful but romantic rustic charm. In some ways Depardieu himself can be identified with such a landscape. When Michele tells Alain to move about more on stage, accusing him of being as bulky and immobile as a mountain, he quips back with: 'Moi, je suis le Massif Central', which reminds us in the audience that one of Depardieu's greatest roles was as Jean de Florette, the tax-collector-turned-peasant roaming the hills of Provence. The Singer, directed by Xavier Giannoli, entertains as it prompts reflection on French society struggling to emerge from its past into a new age.

As with many films that are ostensibly about food (Babette's Feast, or Eat, Drink, Man, Woman), How To Cook Your Life is actually about human relationships and the quest for a philosophy of life. German director Dorris Dorrie serves up a topical and humorful blend of personal anecdote and cultural commentary that leaves the audience feeling uplifted and inspired. This viewer in particular came away with a resolution to try bread-making: all that kneading and sculpting looked very therapeutic, and rewarding!

The film is basically structured around a series of monologues or lectures delivered by a Zen Buddhist priest from California to a group of acolytes at a Buddhist centre in Austria. Themes (such as 'anger', 'consumerism', 'joy') are highlighted by dividing the film into chapters, announced in each case by a still-life shot of a food item and accompanying caption. These still-life shots could almost be described as works of art in terms of their use of light and colour: glistening tomatoes and succulent salads were presented so as to make the mouth water. The diet which this community followed was, unsurprisingly, vegetarian but not vegan. Eggs, for example, were frequently on the menu. There also seemed to be a fairly relaxed attitude towards the use of sugar and fat - food items banned by some fanatical zealots, but tolerated by this particular cook. Our instructor even told a humorous anecdote about the horror expressed by some Buddhists he'd worked for who followed a strict macrobiotic diet and accused him of trying to poison them when he added raisins to some of his bread! The charm of our main guide and narrator lay in his tolerance, humour, understanding of human weakness, and his conviction that the careful preparation of food can bring spiritual wellbeing.

I came away from the film with a better understanding of Buddhism, which certainly seemed to be a less rigid and ascetic religion than I'd previously thought, and more joyful generally. The mental discipline required by it though is undeniable: the ability to concentrate on one task at a time, in an unhurried fashion, doesn't come naturally to western man in today's hurried and stressful climate. Patience, however, is a key quality when cooking, as anyone who has tried to make pastry or a good custard can confirm! One of my favourite moments in the film came when we saw our sage instructor losing his temper trying to open a packet of cheese (or was it tofu?) in a plastic wrapping, and resorting to some rather rough stabs with a kitchen knife. Anger can break through even the most apparently unruffled facade! Indeed, on the theme of anger, we learnt that passion (but always in a controlled form) is an essential ingredient in the preparation of really good food. So it's all a matter of balance it seems ...

Among other noteworthy elements in the film were the atmospheric, jazzy soundtrack (present in the background at many more emotional points) and the use of old footage of Buddhist teachers who had been an inspiration, some of this footage clearly quite old. Anyone who has seen and enjoyed such films as Super Size Me, or who has taken an interest in recent topical debates about consumerism, commercialism and the modern culture of greed, will find that this film gives them lots of food for thought.

The start of the 27th Cambridge Film Festival has arrived. Well, to be honest, it arrived on Tuesday with Michael Nyman doing a live accompaniment to Vertov's 'Kino Pravda 21' and Vigo's 'A Propos to Nice' - which we missed!

This year, due to other pressing commitments I will be scaling back the number of films that I shall be reviewing. However, we are fortunate that 'The Poet' will be stepping forward and entering into the old nofear spirit of things by providing us with some further film reviews.

As well as this there may be a podcast or two, although these will probably come along later when we've got enough to talk about.

In the meantime you may also want to visit the pages of sneersnipe who appears to be a prolific film reviewer based in Cambridge.

Expect more updates soon!