Cinema Talk

I hate Hollywood, I hate Westerns, but I’ll be damned if I couldn’t help but love all of this. Sure, it pretty has all the terrible textbook narrative elements that I associate (and loathe) with Hollywood cinema from the time period, but it also feels more aesthetically in line with a film like Kon Ichikawa’s Fires on the Plain. Theatrical, silly, melodramatic, plot-heavy — so on and so forth. Anthony Mann, at least judging from this film, isn’t some wild innovator but instead, someone who is able to work within the means of the studio and still create one of the “artiest” movies I’ve ever seen.

A bounty hunter, Morg Hickman, brings a dead body into town to collect his reward. The sheriff in town, Ben Owen, is young, naive, and considered to be a temporary replacement. Waiting for his money, Hickman notices just how terrible Owen is for his job and attempts to help him out a little. Meanwhile, Hickman is also befriended by a little boy, Kip, and his single mother, Nona. As his new relationships grow, Morg finds himself caught up in the events of the town, which (obviously) leads to more than a couple gunfights.

This is very much a shallow film, both in it’s character types and cause-and-effect structure. It is conventional, in every sense of the word. However, Henry Fonda’s carefree performance lends the film a perhaps false feeling of character psychology. Much has been said about Mann’s “deeper” Westerns but I think that probably lies more within the acting than any technical choice. Here, Fonda is so cynical and deadpan that he perfectly establishes the mood for the film itself. The theatrical style perfectly complements the fairly minimalistic tone. This could all very well be accidental on Mann’s part but combining all this with the painterly landscapes that are present throughout all of the film, and you’ve got yourself something special.

While certainly not on the same level as his earlier masterworks, this is still very much an Antonioni film. While most of his post-70s works have been rightfully categorized as failed experiments, this is, perhaps, his true last film. In a sense, this is a “best-of” collections of the films made during his glory years. He isn’t really breaking any new ground, but it is nice to see him juggle his usual themes for one last time, even if it means that the film occasionally resembles 80s erotica.

A film director, Niccolo, seeks the perfect woman, for his upcoming movie and for real life. First, he becomes engrossed in Mavi, who he is accidentally introduced to by his sister. They are in love, but like seemingly all of the characters in Antonioni’s world, they are also lost. The couple’s relationship seems to vanish into thin air and Niccolo’s attention now shifts towards Ida. Ida and Mavi couldn’t be more different but on paper, their relationships with Niccolo are similarly confusing. Despite the deep psychology present throughout the film, Niccolo decides, based on his recent experiences, to make a science fiction film.

Though his career would last for another 25 years, Antonioni would not come much closer to recapturing his original vision after this film. This is the last film he made before his stroke in 1985 which paralyzed and prevented him from speaking. While this is indeed his true final film, it also is plagued by many of semi-porn indulgences that push Antonioni’s post-stroke work into the realm of self-parody. Thankfully, this has a lot more to offer than the final segment in Eros. The type of character psychology present here is pretty much on the same level as that in the trilogy. The whole “director’s relationship with women” concept seems to be something that extremely affected Hong Sang-soo seeing as how almost all of his films are based around a similar concept.

On the technical side, this is pretty much perfect. Amazing cinematography, as one can expected from Antonioni, but this seems to be an achievement even for him. This probably has more to do with progression in lighting and film stock than it has to do with any aesthetic choices. Colorful and moody, sure, but the composition of shots isn’t all that different from those in L’Eclisse. All in all, a wonderful trip down memory lane for Antonioni and his fans, but I personally can’t see the film operating as much more. A fine way to spend a couple hours, but not as earth-shattering as something like, say, L’Avventura.

A beautifully realized, in spite of its budget, tragic love story that unfortunately has not gotten the attention it deserves. I’m not quite sure why director Jean-Paul Civeyrac is under the radar, but I can’t help but think that his decision to use DV is a factor. The “mumblecore” aesthetic has become a touchstone of low-budget film making but Civeyrac tries to do something more poetic and the result approaches a style closer to Wong Kar-Wai’s 2046. At the same time, this is also an incredibly truthful and perceptive look at relationships. Dramatized? Absolutely, but it still manages to come off as real.

Raoul, a sexually active and young poet, drifts from woman to woman in an attempt to capture a true connection. He sees a former girlfriend and is suddenly stricken with sadness. Later that day, he becomes acquainted with Jeanne, who is equally out-going and wild. In no time, they become lovers, but Jeanne does not welcome Raoul’s deeper feelings. Instead, she pushes them aside, almost always preferring empty sex. Raoul is use to this, but he is unable to engage in such a relationship with Jeanne and eventually love gets the worst of everyone.

In addition to the stylistic similarities, this also anticipates, in terms of narrative structure, Aaron Katz’s more publicized but equally fascinating Dance Party USA. The perspective is a bit more personal here, but the story unfolds in a similar fashion. Both films follow a deep connection made by young(er) adults who have saturated their lives with unemotional sexual encounters. Civeyrac’s film is ultimately far more tragic and conventionally dramatic than Katz’s, but both seem to have an understanding of human relationships. It might be premature, but it is quite possible that both directors are equivalents to Korea’s Hong Sang-Soo, perhaps the single most important director when it comes to modern relationship dramas.

To continue with the comparisons between Civeyrac and Katz, I find that both directors are the only ones that are working in the realm of low-budget, sloppy DV productions but still put effort into their films’ visuals. In this category, Katz is probably the clear winner but that’s only because his shakycam aesthetic fits in better much. Civeyrac’s style seems to be closer to a Wong Kar-Wai run through digital filtering which creates a fair share of visually awkward moments. This doesn’t really damper the experience of the film too much, but one can’t help imagine what the film would look like if it were shot in 35mm. Still, for what it is worth, this one of the most accomplished films I’ve seen anyone put out in the last couple years. Well, anyone outside of Asia, anyway.

Kawase’s debut feature is not quite as memorable as her later Shara but it is, for whatever reason, a film that ultimately feels more complete and perhaps, ironically enough, more mature. Once again, she is working in familiar territory. A family drama that takes place within a secluded mountain village. Immediately, many of the “elite” directors in Asian minimalism come to mind: Hou Hsiao-Hsien (particularly A City of Sadness) as well as Kawase’s fellow countryman, Hirokazu Koreeda. It’s quite odd to think that Kawase went from her documentary features to a much more slower-paced style, but then returned to the documentary aesthetic in Shara. It should still be made clear though that she is definitely towards the front of the pack when it comes to modern Asian directors, as well as modern female directors.

Cousins Eisuke and Michiru fall in love over a long period of time, but unrelated issues between their families prevents them from expressing their love. Sachiko is old but still laboring in the fields, while Yasuyo is fed up with the repetitions that come with being a housewife. The cousins’ relationship blossoms while the family undergoes an influx of trials, economically and emotionally.

The French DVD leaves a lot to be desired (as one can see from the screenshots) especially since this seems to be even more visually-focused than Kawase’s other films. Here, as opposed to the usual chaotic handheld camera, we are treated to a very lyrical, slowed-down slice of life. This is, of course, fine by me, but the film is never quite as visually fascinating as its style would believe. On the other hand, the 8mm footage that Kawase fuses with her static shots look fantastic. In a way, this is most likely what a meeting between Harmony Korine and Nobuhiro Yamashita would result in. Such a comparison may seem like a reach, but Kawase comes across as genuine. Never do the stylistic transitions feel forced. If anything, the 8mm footage is what lends the film its very nostalgic tone. Otherwise, it would probably feel incomplete.

Made the same year as Chikamatsu Monogatari, this final collaboration between director Kenji Mizoguchi and actress Kinuyo Tanaka represents one of cinema’s greatest tag teams at their very best. In contrast to the more historical and mythological tone of Chikamatsu, this falls under the more downplayed modern drama. A genre that defined Mizoguchi’s work in the 30s, but also shows from time to time in his post-war features. Exquisite photography and great performances round out the package. This is not Mizoguchi’s greatest film, but it does seem to be one of his more accessible.

Following a failed suicide attempt, Yukiko returns home with her mother, Hatsuko, who runs a successful geisha house. Yukiko is slow to adapt; she despises her mother’s profession as well as the woman who become slave to it. Eventually, she begins to soften up and befriends some of the brothel’s employees. In the mean time, Hatsuko is busy trying (but failing) to seduce the young Dr. Matoba, who is creating a strong connection with Yukiko. Eventually, the tension becomes unbearable and the two women must open up about their respective secrets.

As mentioned earlier, this is one of the more downplayed modern relationship dramas that Mizoguchi put out during the 50s. Obviously, all of the films made during this time draw on his earlier more socially-driven work but only Uwasa no onna seems to do so stylistically, in addition to the narrative. The most obvious example of this is the painterly, but indoors, static compositions that the film is centered around. Of course, there’s plenty of slow panning and tracking but not as much as in a film like say, Ugetsu. Personally, I think the lack of camera movement is much more reflective of this film’s character-based nature.

Unfortunately, this would be the last time Kinuyo Tanaka and Kenji Mizoguchi would work together. Tanaka branched out, and gave her own try at directing, a move that Mizoguchi (for whatever reason) wasn’t very fond of. In the most over-discussed and over-dramatized element of their careers, it was possible that Mizoguchi was deeply infatuated with Tanaka. This is reflective of the way she is shot in almost all of his films. In the case of this film, it is hard to avoid the many rejected advances made by many of the characters. The most obvious case being Dr. Matoba’s resistance to Hatsuko, but Hatsuko herself turns down the invitations made by the much older Yasuichi. The many failed romances make sense in light of Mizoguchi’s typical melodramatic structure but it is hard to ignore what was going on in his personal life at the time.