Thursday, August 10, 2017

The Thin Blue Line (Morris, 1988)



The Thin Blue Line is unlike anything else you'll watch in Critical Approach to Cinema. As the sole documentary this summer, it's also an artistic spin on the otherwise familiar genre. It takes chances, and director Errol Morris makes some really bizarre creative decisions in crafting his argument. What made it similar to other documentaries you have seen? What makes it different?


This documentary single-handedly helped shape the fate of Randall Dale Adams. It brought to light several questionable elements in the trial, including five counts of perjury by supposedly reliable testimonies. In the movie's aftermath, a reexamination of the evidence against Adams was conducted, and the courts finally released him after twelve years of imprisonment.


The Thin Blue Line has a lot of components which makes it very hard to follow for casual viewers. The director made the strange choice not to include names with each of the interviewees, so when the witnesses gave testimonials about certain people, it was harder to mentally relate the names with the faces we saw. How long did it take you to figure out who was Harris and who was Adams?

Errol Morris is a prolific documentarian, and has had a successful career digging out human interest stories and making them relatable to the public. He led the charge in non-fiction films during the 1980's, gaining critical acclaim and awards. When his first two films failed financially, he worked as a private detective for six years, using the skills he learned on that job to create incredibly detailed films like The Thin Blue Line.


Errol Morris directs the documentary almost like a crime thriller, with several reenactments of the murder and a multitude of strange characters with hidden agendas. He also adds a bit of art flair to the picture by including images like the over-popped popcorn, the dangling clock, and the flying milkshake. What do you think of his directing style?


David Ray Harris, the villain of the story, is a fascinating character both on and off the screen. Several people who have taken this class relate him to Hannibal Lecter, because like the cannibalistic serial killer, Harris has a sort of elegance that makes people believe him. In Harris' case, it's a farm boy innocence. Adams, on the other hand, is very annoying to listen and relate to. This increases the shock audience members receive when Harris is exposed as the actual murderer.  What did you think of Harris and how he compares to Adams?


Morris' final talk with Harris, the tape recorder sequence, was actually not supposed to happen. The camera broke the day of filming the interview, so Morris improvised by recording the conversation on a tape recorder. This creates an accidentally eerier effect, but some people have their reservations about it. What did you think about this ending sequence?

The Thin Blue Line is one of those documentaries that you have to see at least once in your life. It packs a powerful message about exposing the truth. A man spent twelve years in prison for a crime he didn't commit. In a way, this is more haunting than anything else we watch in this class. What would your reaction be to this movie if you were involved with the real-life case?

Monday, August 7, 2017

Ali: Fear Eats the Soul (Fassbinder, 1974)

Ali: Fear Eats the Soul was made in two weeks - an experiment for prolific filmmaker Rainer Werner Fassbinder. He made it between two other works: Martha and Effi Briest. However, Fear Eats the Soul has slowly and surely become Fassbinder's most acclaimed and accessible work. It's rivaled by virtually no other in the New German Cinema movement. How different would this film have been if it were made as a big budget production? What is it about this low-budget, indie filmmaking that proves so resilient?




Rainer Werner Fassbinder remains one of the most important figures in the New German Cinema. He is prolific for several reasons, but one aspect of his career that stands out is how fast he worked. His career only lasted a relatively short fifteen years; but, in that time, he completed forty films, and dozens of other media productions. He was also skilled in acting, writings, composing, designing, editing, and producing... all in addition to directing. Fassbinder's themes usually involved clear distaste for the rich and famous, and this caused deep-rooted problems in his personal life. He was infamous for torturing his friends and family both physically and emotionally... including long-time boyfriend El Hedi ben Salem (who played Ali in this film). While Salem was involved with Fassbinder personally, Brigitte Mira (Emmi) was a staple of the director, appearing in several of the filmmaker's works. The director himself has a cameo in the film as Emmi's son-in-law.




There is much political unrest in Ali, namely dealing with the fact that Fassbinder openly attacks traditional relationships- the main couple is a pair that transcends race and age and fall madly in love with each other. Though they struggle with maintaining their cultural heritages, Ali and Emmi ultimately need each other in order to be happy. Is this something we've moved past in Hollywood? Sure, there are more homosexual couples and less "traditional" families being portrayed in the media- but is this progress as radical as it could (or even should) be?


Look at the way Fassbinder plays with color and frames in this film. I find it fascinating looking at these characters from a distance, and how the director presents that in the production. In fact, one of my favorite shots is the window scene right after Emmi's friends abandon her because of her relationship with Ali. In terms of colors, pay close attention to the yellows and the reds, and what each could mean. In particular, look at the benches when they get lunch (pictured here). This is Mira's best acting in the movie, but it's also important in terms of understanding the whole picture.  How are each of the characters portrayed in the various shots? What changes as the film progresses?



Fear Eats the Soul won numerous accolades in 1974, including a few at the Cannes Film Festival, and Best Actress for Mira. Today, it is considered a cornerstone film in the New German Cinema movement. How did you like it?

Thursday, August 3, 2017

Contempt (Godard, 1963)

1963 Le mepris 1.jpg


As many former classmates will tell you, Contempt isn't exactly the most popular film of the class. In fact, many will tell you it's the one movie they didn't like. Whether you appreciate the cultural and cinematic significance of the picture or not, Contempt can be tedious and incredibly boring. However, Professor Ratekin himself says that this was a very normal reaction to the Jean-Luc Godard picture. Why do you think this film is usually so unpopular?


The main reason that Contempt is included in the syllabus remains the fact that it represents an important movement in cinematic history: the French New Wave. This movement came on the heels of World War II, when young people became disillusioned with the rudimentary and repetitive products of Hollywood and French cinema. They wanted to experiment with the way films were made, and heighten the reality of motion pictures by shooting outside and in more realistic scenarios. It also heightened the importance of the director, and some of the most influential artists in the French New Wave include Francois Truffaut, Claude Charbol, Jacque Rivette, and of course, Jean-Luc Godard. Have you seen any other films in this movement?


Godard was a highly regarded yet controversial director in the 1960s and 1970s due to his unique approach to filmmaking that emphasized style over substance. He challenged many conventional methods present in movies at that time, and also popularized the use of references to earlier films through dialogue, frame design, and shot content. His Breathless became the symbol of the French New Wave, which also introduced the use of jump cuts to add to the visual style.


Contempt directly addresses Godard's frustrations with American film studios. Jack Palance (who plays the American producer) deems the symbolic and dream-like nature of Fritz Lang's Odyssey too artsy, and the movie makes it seem that Palance is more concerned with money than actually making a good film. In addition, he also awkwardly flirts with Brigitte Bardot, making viewers feel as though he is sleazy and out of place. What do you think of Godard's feelings on American producers? Do you share his notion that they're all like Jack Palance?


The film repeatedly makes viewers aware that they are watching a film- whether through the vocal opening credits (read by Godard himself), the inappropriate color filter changes, and random musical cues. What else did you notice that was "off"?


Nevertheless, Contempt is longer and excruciatingly drawn out in comparison to most movies today. The apartment scene in particular seemingly goes on forever, despite the effects involved in the sequence. The architecture looks as strained as Paul and Camille's marriage, but its hard not to feel strained yourself watching them fight, make up, and fight yet again. Clocked at 34 minutes, this scene is not for the weak hearted. What was your reaction to the scene? What other scenes stuck out to you?


Brigitte Bardot was one of the biggest movie stars in the world at the time of Contempt's release. The production of the movie was sometimes stalled due to the paparazzi constantly hounding her, much to the annoyance of Jean-Luc Godard. The influential French New Wave director hated making Contempt in every way, much preferring to make smaller movies instead of big-budget flicks like this. He did not even get the actors he wanted - Frank Sinatra and Kim Novak turned down the lead roles.




Contempt is comparative to the Ulysses story the characters seek to make, and those of you familiar with the Greek epic will recognize many similarities. Godard's film also makes fun of the moviemaking business itself, not only as a comment on American cinema, but towards the medium in general. How do you think Contempt's perception of filmmaking compares to the more optimistic tones of Singin' in the Rain? Which do you think is more accurate? Which do you prefer?

Thursday, July 27, 2017

Singin' in the Rain (Kelly & Donen, 1952)



Singin' in the Rain was never intended to be as popular as it is today; MGM merely wanted another musical to join the popular lineup of that time. In fact, hardly anything was original about Singin'- almost all of the songs were recycled from other, earlier MGM pictures. However, ask anyone today, and they'll tell you "Make 'em Laugh" and "Good Morning" were from Singin' in the Rain, and not The Pirate (1948) or Babes in Arms (1939). Why do you think the movie holds up so well as the greatest musical of all time, despite lacking any original numbers? And how did you like the way songs were used in the film?

Though the story is indeed fictional, the studio's problems with transferring from silent pictures to "talkies" actually existed. Adapting to this new form of entertainment is hilariously captured in Singin' in the Rain, and argues that (like the message in The Philadelphia Story) the fun people can sing and dance, and those who cannot must therefore be villains. Lina Lamont grows more reptilian with each viewing, and film professionals love to hate her. She causes problems just to keep her fame- much like Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard and Margo Channing in All About Eve. She's consistently rated as the best character in the movie, with actress Jean Hagen nominated for an Oscar and also selected as a finalist for the AFI's greatest film villains of all time. Who was your favorite character? What about them stood out to you- were they relatable or naturalistic in any way? Consider them in conjunction to Bicycle Thieves' characters- how do they compare in terms of characterization and story arcs?






The musical remains a very blissful genre, an optimistic view of the world where everyone beats under the same drum and sings the same tune. Originally adapted for cinema as an escapist form of entertainment away from World Wars and the Great Depression, the musical quickly became one of the prominent genres of the 1930s-1950s. Each major studio had its own unique stars and directorial styles for musical productions, with some emphasizing dance, and others focusing on songs. As inspired as it was by the vaudeville theater, musical films differentiated themselves by incorporating the music into the narrative, with each song progressing the story further. What's your view on musicals? They're a love them or hate them type of genre, and everyone seems to have their own opinions about the musicals of yesterday and today.


Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly remain two of the most successful film musical duos in history. Gene Kelly was a highly respected dancer and choreographer when he met Donen in a chorus line on Broadway. He went to Hollywood in the early '40's with little success, but when he and Donen teamed up to make On the Town in 1949, his career was set. Both worked for MGM with commercial acclaim, and even made this truly impressive and flawless animation-and-dance spectacle in 1944. In 1952, they were selected to direct Singin' in the Rain- their greatest achievement. When their relationship fell apart in in the mid '50s, Kelly continued to make musicals on the stage, while Donen switched to comedies. Kelly is the more well-known of the pair, but without Donen, Singin' in the Rain could not have happened. Something to consider about Donen/Kelly is that they're the only co-directors on the syllabus. The "director" is usually a singular entity, with an individual vision; how do directorial pairs change that dynamic? Is there something about musicals that filmmakers prefer to team up then go at it alone?  


Also, say hello to color! That's right, technicolor started to take off around the time of Singin' in the Rain's release. Some academics have even pointed out that the conflict between silence and sound in the movie is metaphorical for the conflict between black-and-white and color filmmaking.
The musical numbers are choreographed in a way movies today cannot replicate. Gene Kelly is a master at the top of his form here, and his "Singin' in the Rain" was shot in nearly one take, in the pouring rain... all while he had a fever of 103 degrees. Impressive in any time period (though rumors that this story has been highly exaggerated over the years have sprung up as of late). Also, consider this: Debbie Reynolds was not a dancer or an actress when she was cast in this movie. Kelly, known for his perfectionist nature, pushed Reynolds hard during the production. She would later go on to say, "Singin' in the Rain and childbirth were the two hardest things I ever had to do in my life."




The only point of tension with critics and historians remains the infamous "Broadway Melody" sequence. Lasting over ten minutes, the exaggerated dance scene does nothing for the story, and only exists to promote the film in trailers. Cyd Charisse, the woman with the cigarette, was a famous dancer who appeared to help sell the film in the marketing. Did you like this part, or were you annoyed by it?


Singin' in the Rain took the #1 spot in AFI's Greatest American Film Musicals, and landed at #5 for the greatest movies ever made. It's been alluded to in such hits as A Clockwork Orange and The Artist. An intriguing look at Hollywood, this film remains a highly popular masterpiece.


Monday, July 24, 2017

Vertigo (Hitchcock, 1958)


Known as "The Master of Suspense", Alfred Hitchcock crafted a pantheon of thrillers, romances, and mysteries with a skill and eye for detail that has never been repeated. He's consistently rated as the greatest director in the history of film, and he was incredibly popular in his heyday (unlike many directors who only receive acclaim decades after their death). Hitchcock, along with his wife Alma, crafted some of the best films of their era, and continue to inspire countless directors with their unique perfectionist styles, and attention to the nuanced aspects that make suspense work so well. Every decision he made was carefully planned, and no one knew how to craft a masterpiece quite like him. It's natural for every academic film course to feature at least one movie from this prolific director.

Why do you think Professor Ratekin chose Vertigo as the definitive Hitchcock to view? Sure, it's received much critical acclaim in recent years. But out of all of the Master's films, why Vertigo? Psycho, Rear Window, or North by Northwest are arguably better, and more popular, choices. Even the lesser known films like Marnie, Notorious, Rope, and Strangers on a Train demonstrate Hitchcock's signature style better than Vertigo.


But, maybe this is what Ratekin intended. The movie is so much different than other Hitchcock pictures, as the mystery is solved in the middle and the romance does not work out in the end. It's a thought-provoking, almost dream-like movie in it's lucid qualities and bizarre twists of fate. Whether you liked it or not, Vertigo is a movie you'll grow to love the more and more you learn about it. What was your initial reaction to Vertigo?

The score is a haunting rendition by Bernard Hermann, who next to John Williams is the best film composer of all time. You'll have that song stuck in your head for weeks, and it makes you feel as obsessed as Scottie. The music is absolutely genius, and Martin Scorsese sums it up beautifully. Did the music stand out to you? Was it familiar or different from other musical scores you've listened to before?


The opening credits, designed by Saul Bass, are regularly cited as some of the best ever done. From the woman (not actually Novak), to the spinning circles of desires, it is a haunting opening that sets the tone for the rest of the picture. In addition, the use of color in the film is fascinating; in particular, the green hue is striking when Judy walks out for the first time as Madeline, in the grey suit with the crafted hair.






The casting is infamous for the debacle of who would play Judy/Madeline, with Vera Miles initially attached but becoming pregnant right before production. Alfred Hitchcock ultimately cast Kim Novak, which, according to legend, was to spite Miles for choosing family over fame. Many people believe Novak was also chosen because she was such a bad actress, and that Hitchcock did this on purpose to show her character as a little off. Was Novak more believable as Judy, or Madeline? Why? Watching Novak in Vertigo seems to be a work of dramatic genius, but as her later career shows, this was by and large her one-hit-wonder.



Jimmy Stewart is much different here than we're used to seeing him; he's not the nice guy best friend (The Philadelphia Story), nor is he the good all around guy (It's a Wonderful Life). Instead, he's a sexist, obsessive old man who falls in love with a picture. We're not used to seeing Stewart damaged (or in color, for that matter), so his casting seems bizarre when we first watch the movie. Stewart, despite being a Hitchcock regular, never worked with the director again after Vertigo, as the director credited Stewart's old age and lack of familiarity in color to the film's financial failure. Did you like Jimmy Stewart's character? Or, for that matter, did you think Jimmy Stewart was good in the picture?




Despite recent academic discussion, Vertigo was considered a bomb when first released. Alfred Hitchcock believed it to be his masterpiece, the one work which will send him to artistic fame. However, the film was a bomb at the box office, barely breaking even, and saved solely by Hitchcock's name. Critics had mixed feelings about it, citing it's overly long narrative and excruciating slowness as the biggest complaints. Why do you think people originally felt this way? Does it "feel" like a Hitchcock movie?


But after Hitchcock's death in 1980, French academics began revisiting his works to judge him artistically rather than popularly. They found Vertigo to be the greatest of his films, with so many symbols and cinematic innovations that were overlooked in 1958.

Thursday, July 20, 2017

Bicycle Thieves (De Sica, 1948)



After watching the very deliberate theatrics of The Philadelphia Story, Citizen Kane, and Double Indemnity, the style of Bicycle Thieves might seem almost too real. Vittorio De Sica blurs the line between banal and profound seamlessly in the defining film of the Italian Neorealism genre. This film is one of my personal favorites because of its realistic nature.


How realistic is Bicycle Thieves? Should all movies be like this?




Unlike most movies, this Italian Neorealism motion picture ignores the blissful utopia common in Hollywood. Instead, it opts for a more pessimistic outlook towards life. As average filmgoers, most people expect Antonio and Bruno Ricci to find the bike. In fact, most of you probably expected that the bicycle would be found. However, the truth of reality is this - in a city as large as Rome, it remains virtually impossible to find something as normal as a bike ever again. Did you expect him to find the bike? Was it an interesting way to end the movie, going against the tide by having the hero lose in the end?
While the finale does leave the viewer unsatisfied, I find the part where Antonio takes Bruno to the restaurant even more disturbing. He tries to lighten the mood for his son, and make it seem like everything will be alright. But next to the rich family, not even Bruno can shake the feeling of hopelessness. It's a sad state of affairs that they find themselves in. What part stuck out to you the most?


Vittorio De Sica is one of Italy's most celebrated filmmakers. He began as an actor in the 1920's before moving to directing on the onset of World War II. He created comedies during the early '40's, and many critics applauded his unique direction of actors, especially children. After the war ended, De Sica switched to dramas in an effort to expose the torn-down nature of his beloved country. He aptly depicted poverty with Bicycle Thieves and Shoeshine, and was subsequently chosen as the recipient of a special Academy Award for his work in Italian Neorealism (before the Best Foreign Language Picture existed). Despite his later failures, the Academy, generally not known for their acknowledgement of other countries, gave De Sica several more nominations and special awards during his career.
What does that say about American audiences? Why do you think they responded so well to De Sica's work?

De Sica did not build a Rome set for Bicycle Thieves. Everything in the film really exists in the city. Nothing was filmed on a studio lot, and none of the actors were professionals. Most of them were complete novices, and Enzo Staiola (who played Bruno) was a young boy who was just helping his father sell flowers when he caught De Sica's eye. How do you feel about this style of filmmaking? Is it a movie, or is it something more akin to a fictional documentary?

The picture is also very humble - Antonio is a very relatable character in terms of everyday struggles, and he spends the duration of the film attempting to find something he desperately needs. All Antonio wants is to have a job, something most of us take for granted. Antonio needs income to provide for his family, and is willing to do anything to achieve his goals, even selling the sheets off his bed to make a few bucks.


Bicycle Thieves is a horribly sad motion picture. It foregoes the hopefulness and utopian promises of the film industry, and instead incorporates a bleak outlook on life. For this reason, the film did not do well in Italy in 1948. Many citizens of the country found the film to be stereotypically negative of Italians, and many were upset with the lack of escapism in the picture. However, elsewhere in the world, the movie was universally acclaimed for its neorealism and human emotion. Upon further evaluation in Italy, the movie was praised, and became a huge success.


Despite Bicycle Thieves' depressing nature, this movie is consistently ranked among the greatest of all time, mostly on foreign film lists. In fact, it landed on the Vatican's list of Best Films, for portraying "strong human values." Why does it stand the test of time, through all economic booms and hardships?

Lastly, it is important to return to the most fundamental question about the movie industry: should we continue making escapist entertainment in such a harsh world, or is there something to be said about creating realistic pictures? Should all movies be like Bicycle Thieves? (Interestingly enough, we get a glimpse of the other side of the coin with next week's picture, Singin' in the Rain).