Cinema Talk

My first encounter with Alain Tanner didn’t necessarily blow me away, but it did leave enough of an impression to still be interested in more of his films. It was especially nice to see such a gentle and laidback romance after watching Ken Loach’s energetic and dramatic Family Life. Tanner’s character treatment is almost the polar opposite, perhaps to the point that the film is too fragile and/or understanding for its own good. In a way, Tanner’s formally strict sensibility and his compassionate humanity bring to mind the great Yasujiro Ozu. Perhaps once I see more from Tanner, I’ll “get” him enough to appreciate his films on the same level as Ozu’s, but for now, I just see this as a nice film.

As I already mentioned, Tanner is very strict and straight-forward with his camera movements, which gives one the feeling that the filmmaker is very confident in his aesthetic. It’s the sort of minimalism that gives certain films a type of technical foundation. Tanner sticks to incredibly slow tracking and static shots that seem to be almost accidentally capturing moments shared between two people who seem to be blissfully in love. At the same time, it’s given an almost robotic pattern of making its small movements, which does threaten to spoil much of the film’s “life.”

Thankfully, the two leads, Olimpia Carlisi and Philippe Léotard, fit perfectly into Tanner’s very downplayed and simple cinematic universe. They do become tedious when their together since almost all of their encounters, at least in the first half-hour, are pretty close to being cliché French film café talk. Indeed, one of the biggest personal problems I have with this film is its slightly “talky” nature, which clashes heavily with the extremely slow camera movements. Still, it is very interesting to watch the relationship between Paul and Adriana unfold, if only because it does so in a very natural manner. Her role isn’t all that important, but it is nice to see Juliet Berto, a Rivette alum, make a few somewhat comedic appearances.

Unfortunately, Tanner’s visual style isn’t going to get him any praise, at least not from me. It’s a shame that most of the film sticks to a dull greenish/brown-ish pallete as there seems to be so many opportunities for fantastic images. Instead, the potential is lost within the film’s dull color scheme. In a way, the visuals do remind me of the films Angelopolous made in the 1980s, but much worse. The slow tracking shots certainly don’t hurt this comparison. Whatever the case, I think there is still something interesting in Angelopolous’ visual style, but I can’t say the same for Tanner. There are a few glimpses of beauty, most of which are showcased in these screenshots, but they are certainly not the film’s norm.

A big step-up from Cathy Comes Home but I still have some problems with Ken Loach’s type of cinema. In both films I’ve seen from him, he starts out with some intriguing, if not completely successful attempts at formal experimentation, but at some point in each film, everything drops and Loach comes too comfortable in the realm of shakycam ‘n arguing. This is not a problem for me, especially when the film’s performers are as excellent as they are here, but Loach’s aesthetic seems to be completely lost on me over the certain period of time. Cassavetes could (and did) film people arguing intensely for two and a half hours, but it was still completely captivating. Loach does the same for only a hundred minutes, but has to crawl to reach the finish line.

Loach starts this film in almost the same way as Cathy Comes Home. The first twenty minutes or so, of both films, are extremely impressive. In Family Life in particular, Loach perfects this slightly odd technique of putting the dialogue over completely random and unrelated images. This sounds slightly forced, but it really saves the film from being a talkative bogged down mess, well at least it does so for awhile. Oddly enough, the tonal transition is marked by an extremely long head shot of a character answering a psychiatrist’s questions.

At this point, Loach’s interest in creative montages seem to disappear and straight-forward naturalism takes over. Again, I have no problem with this approach, but I find Loach’s borderline conventional dramatic sensibility creeping into the pacing. Sure, A Woman Under the Influence had prolonged sequences of arguing and/or fighting, but there was just as many sequences like the ones of Peter Falk’s children drinking his beer. Loach’s film isn’t consistently brutal like say, The Life of Oharu, but even that film occasionally offers glimmers of hope. One gets the sense that the protagonist here is on a never-ending downward spiral.

I suppose Loach’s status as a “socially-concious” filmmaker reflects this structure, but it would also be going a bit too far to say his characters are simply pawns for a sociological statement. At the same time, I can’t really say that he seems to care all that much for his characters, either. This is where, how, and why the actors save the film. The lead, Sandy Ratcliff as the emotionally and mentally complicated young Janice is simply amazing to watch. Nevermind the fact that she is (very) beautiful, she also perfectly reinforces the type of frustration that her parents feel. Without her superb performance, her father, played by Bill Dean, would see more like the dad in Broken Blossoms. Instead, he’s a bit closer to one in A nos amours. The film itself is tedious and certainly far from perfect, but it is worthwhile simply for some fantastic performances.

While this is probably my least favorite of all the Boetticher – Scott westerns, it is still pretty great. At the very least, it is a lot better than Boetticher’s earlier westerns for Universal like The Man From Alamo or The Cimarron Kid. I did say mention in my review of Ride Lonesome that it is probably Boetticher’s most accessible film, but I kind of regret saying that. While that film is a perfect introduction into the man’s work, it’s not as highly likable and charming as this film. The same can be said for Randolph Scott’s performance. He’s much more upbeat here, even with the potential danger.

The first ten minutes of Buchanan Rides Alone are extremely unusual for Boetticher, as well as Scott. In almost all the other ranown westerns, Scott is a reserved and quiet man with a scarred past. While that sense of psychology is also implied here, Scott himself is much more open and even sort of funny. His character rolls into a border town and asks for a steak. To avoid giving anything away, I’ll just say it is one of Scott’s funniest moments, perhaps second only to the scene in The Man Behind the Gun where he pretends to not know how to shoot a gun.

Watching this film does reinforce how little interest Boetticher had in crafting action narratives, and quick dramatic turns. This is by far the most plot-centered film in the whole ranown cannon, but it sorts of explains why the other efforts tend to have extremely similar structures. This is really the only Boetticher film that I can think of that comes pretty darn close to being a conventional “exciting” action movie, which certainly isn’t a problem for me. As usual, the visuals and Scott’s acting are enough to overcome any tiny problems. It’s not as amazing as Boetticher’s best work, but it is a really accomplished piece of arty “genre” cinema.

I suppose I’ve been building up to this with a lot of my most recent Western viewings seeing as how they all featured Randolph Scott. Unsurprisingly, this is definitely the best one I’ve watched as of late, and quite possibly my favorite of the “ranown” westerns. There’s nothing that really separates this from Boetticher’s other westerns with Scott, but for whatever reason, it feels the most complete. It is almost the perfect introduction into Boetticher’s work, my only reservation would be in that every subsequent film would understandably pail in comparison.

I don’t mean to sound harsh when I say this, but it is somewhat of a (small) miracle that this film is as great as it is. If any director could be accused of recycling a story, it’s Boetticher. There’s nothing specific in the narrative that ties it to Seven Men from Now or Comanche Station, but the whole setup and “feel” is pretty uncanny. It doesn’t help that the story, (initially) involving a bounty hunter taking someone in is the sort of thing I’ve seen one too many times. Obviously, Mann’s masterpiece, The Naked Spur comes to mind, but Boetticher does manage to separate his film from the crowd of other extremely similar setups.

The most obvious element to help him “pull away” would be the breathtaking cinematography that is just as vast and open as it is rigorous and formal. It sounds like a reach, but I couldn’t help but think of Mikio Naruse’s efforts from the late 1950s and early 1960s while watching this. Boetticher has to overcome the conventions of the whole shot/reverse shot setup within the expanded space of cinemascope just as Naruse did. They both succeed, despite my own initial skepticism, and make their respective films feel as controlled as their less talkative efforts.

That’s not to say Ride Lonesome is a chatty relationship film. I would argue that it is a film about relationships, but with very sparse and deadpan comedic dialogue. A perfect example of the film’s simple and straight-forward dialogue would be Karen Steele’s attempt to question the profession of Scott’s character. “You don’t seem like the kind of man who would hunt people for money” she says, to which he quickly responds, “I am.” It was actually at this specific moment that I realized just how important dialogue (or lack thereof) is important in westerns as well as how great Burt Kennedy was at bringing that perfect tone to the dialogue in Boetticher’s films.

Ride Lonesome does have its own set of characters to make it at least superficially different from Mann’s The Naked Spur. Scott’s prisoner is played by James Best here, and he has very little flair to add to the film. Robert Ryan was far more charismatic in Mann’s film, but the way Boetticher downplays Best’s role is sort of brilliant. He’s a criminal, alright, but not remotely charming. One gets the sense that it is a constant struggle for Scott’s character to resist killing Best. It eliminates a slightly theatrical lining that’s found in even my favorite westerns. Sure, Robert Ryan’s character in The Naked Spur is more likely to initially impress people, but I like how Best is occassionally treated so poorly by everyone else. That’s not really an acting accomplishment, just a narrative related one. The film as a whole, though, is a great accomplishment in every possible category.

Another winner from Akira Kurosawa, though this is actually a lot different than the great No Regrets for Our Youth. The scope here is a lot less sprawling for starters, which almost inherently makes the film feel a lot less self-consciously serious. In addition, this film provides some of the much needed humor that was absent in No Regrets. Even though Setsuko Hara is great in that film, she isn’t necessarily dependent upon, where as this probably wouldn’t be all that great without Takeshi Shimura and Toshiro Mifune. Both really bring the right amount of comedy to a cultural indictment that (unfortunately) still rings true today.

If Kurosawa was channeling Ford’s How Green Was My Valley through No Regrets for Our Youth than he’s probably channeling Doctor Bull or Young Mr. Lincoln here. There is the small superficial connection between all three films and that is that all three take place in a courtroom, but the brilliant way in which Ford blends absurd and cynical comedy with something emotionally substantial seems to be something Kurosawa used as a reference point here. The humor here, like in Ford’s and even William A. Wellman’s work, bites extremely hard. The brutality of the criticisms is only matched by the humor that comes along with it.

While much of the film’s success can be placed upon Kurosawa’s biting satire, even more credit needs to be given to Takeshi Shimura and Toshiro Mifune, in one of their earliest and best collaborations. Shimura, in particular, is amazing as Mifune’s lawyer. At first his performance seems a bit over-the-top, but as character continues to empahsize his feeling of self-loathing and low self value, his performance takes a turn from the dramatic to downright heartbreaking. The fact that his daughter is portrayed as this sinless angel is a bit exaggerated, but the whole bit with Mifune falling in love with her is great and sort of unexpected since he’s surrounded by models and singers.