 Only Tarr could make opening the blinds so beautiful Director: Béla Tarr and Ágnes Hranitzky Writer: Georges Simenon (novel), Béla Tarr, László Krasznahorkai Cinematographer: Fred Kelemen Producer: Humbert Balsan, Christoph Hahnheiser, and Juliusz Kossakowski by Jon Cvack I had discovered Béla Tarr from a philosophy professor who inspired me to take up the major, starting with Damnation (1987) and having that perfect experience of wanting to invite all your film friends over to watch it; containing a style as unique as Lynch or Haneke where you’re hungry for the rest of the filmography. For those unfamiliar, always in black and white, Tarr utilizes long single takes; not revealing grand set pieces and walks and talks, but with subtle changes in composition, shifting from close ups to wides to two shots and back; other times holding the camera down as action unfolds before it, fully utilizing the monochromatic light and shadows. The Man From London opens in close up on the submerged hull of a ship, slowly rising up, revealing the depth number, moving all the way up to starboard where a couple of men discuss something in the captain's room before the other throws a briefcase out into the water, continuing up to a railway viewing tower where Maloin (Miroslav Krobot) watches it all take place. Still rolling on the first take, he watches as the men exit the ship, turning left out toward the docks where one of the men from the captain’s office boards a train which we then follow out. It’s a take that’s modest and yet meticulously crafted. Not every take is as engaging and Tarr understands it. The Turin Horse (2012) is almost torturous to watch in portraying the grueling life of abject 18th century poverty. The Man from London the Hitchcockian/classic noir crime story of the common man becoming entangled in a dangerous situation that spirals his life out of control. Maloin steals the cash, hoping it could relieve his meager existence; where his daughter works at a butcher, dressed in a skimpy outfit that shows off her underside while his wife Camélia (Tilda Swinton) prepares their sparse dinner and cleans their empty apartment day after day. From there, the film follows a labyrinthe path, between Maloin, the man Morrison (János Derzsi) who stole the money, and a shady police officer Morrison (István Lénárt) who investigates the crime; abiding by Dashiel Hammett’s complexity. What I love about Tarr’s work is that I have yet to even come close to fully comprehending what they’re about. It’s all about the experience with images and characters. When finishing, I remember fragments - drying the money on an air vent, the kid playing soccer in the narrow alley, the old man eating bread and soup at the restaurant. Reading the synopsis, I realize how much I didn’t even comprehend as I was so transported by his world. It provides that strange meditative viewing experience; where what you’re watching is so profound that you at times lose concentration in order to follow a thought. It’s exactly what you hoped for from the master. BELOW: The opening single Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
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 Living Dead Girl? Director: Hayao Miyazaki Writer: Hayao Miyazaki Cinematographer: Hisao Shirai Producer: Toru Hara by Jon Cvack I remember the first time I experienced cinema was junior year after meeting a sophomore cinephile who I met at the high school film festival. Per the usual curse, my best friend Tim and I hadn’t made any film to enter, but decided to sit there and criticize the screeners. Until the sophomore cinephile’s short played, containing a kinetic and amazing energy, and I realized I might have found a fellow film buff. We talked and he soon told me about three of his favorite films that I had to see - Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), which provided the greatest intro I’ve ever seen and still struggle to think of anything better; Amadeus (1984) which I haven’t yet revisited but enjoyed: and Spirited Away (2001), which not being a big fan of animation, I liked, but didn’t entirely follow. I’m ashamed to say that My Neighbor Totoro is only the second film I’ve watched from Hayao Miyazaki, though it was after my friend demanding I watch Cowboy Bebop (1998) that my interest piqued in anime (the friend went so far as to ship me his DVD collection from Chicago), I moved onto Ghost in the Shell (1995) and Akira (1988) which both blew my mind. I was excited to check out the legend, whose work is completely and utterly adored by his fans. It’s the story of a husband Shigesato Itoi (voiced in English by Tim Daly) and his two daughters Mei Kusakabe (voiced by Elle Fanning) and Satsuki Kusakabe (voice by Dakota Fanning) who move out to the country to both be closer to their mother who’s dying a long term illness (which taking place in 1958 could very well be radiation poisoning), and for the girls to get a change of scenery from the big city. Arriving at their farmhouse, the family meets both a young boy Kanta Ōgaki (voice by Paul Butcher) who immediately crushes on Satsuki; told through intimidation, and his Granny (voiced by Pat Carroll). The girls discover these strange large black dust bunnies which the Granny calls susuwatari - essentially a dust-like house spirit. One day, Mei discovers two abbit-penguin looking ghosts that lead her deep into the woods and through a tunnel where she meets the film’s title character Totoro (voiced by Frank Welker) - a gigantic version of the rabbit-penguin monster - is found sleeping on his back. Mei lays upon his belly, soon falling asleep. Mei tries to tell her sister and dad who don’t believe her and so the family continues to live; settling into the house, visiting their sick mother, and Tatsuo working on his lectures. One evening, while waiting for Tatsuo as his bus runs late and it begins to rain, a cat-bus hybrid machine creature rolls up and Tutoro exits. He protects them from the rain and they lend him their father’s umbrella. In exchange he provides them almond seeds. He then leaves with the cat-bus and their father arrives, explaining how he missed his ride back home. The girls plant the seeds and wait for them to grow, but it doesn't look like they will, until one evening they find Totoro and his other ghost friends doing a ceremonial dance around the garden. The girls join them and the trees explode into the air, creating a gigantic forest. They grab onto Totoro and fly up to the canopies, enjoying their creation, then waking up to find it was all a fantasy; though the seeds have finally sprouted. With their mother due to arrive home soon, complications arise and Tatsuo takes off from the hospital; leaving the girls under the care of granny. Mei can’t handle the news and runs away, vowing to make the three hour journey alone back to her mother. Satsuki, Granny, Kanta and the rest of the neighbors assemble to go and try and find her, but as it grows darker, and they find one of her shoes in a nearby pond, fearing the worst. Desperate, Satsuki returns to the camphor tree where she begs Totoro and the other little ghosts for help. Thrilled, they call upon the catbus who picks them all up, jetting across the farmlands. They find Mei sitting on a bench in the middle of nowhere, taking them all to the hospital, discovering that it was only a minor cold that set the mother back, now healthy. By the end, I enjoyed the more fantastical elements, but I didn’t really get what this was about. Two girls see some ghost creatures that none of the adults see, which the Granny might know about, all while mother is incredibly sick in the hospital. It’s often my problem with cartoons. Similar to surrealism, it allows anything to exist or be possible. The girl’s needed distraction and guidance and found the monsters who helped Satsuko find Mei in the end. I’m not sure what the point of a catbus was, or how Mei crawling through the tunnel of an imaginary camphor tree led her to the monsters, or what the point of almonds and their attempt to grow almond trees were all about. They were just great uses of the imagination; images that have still burned themselves into popular culture given how many Totoro toys I’ve seen. However, it was reading about the film that there seems to be a possible reading. Kotaku links to an article from the website fellowof, which states: The rumor says that Totoro is the God of Death, so the persons that can see Totoro are actually close to death, or already dead. What that means for the story is that when Mei goes missing and a sandal is found in the pond, Mei actually drowned. When Satsuki is asked about the sandal she cannot face the truth and lies about it not being Mei’s sandal. So Satsuki goes on a desperate search for Totoro, calling for him and actually opens up the door to the realm of the dead herself. With Totoro’s help she finds her dead sister and they together go to their mother’s hospital. There, the only one who actually noticed that the sisters were there, was the mother, who also soon is going to die... And in the ending scene, Satsuki and Mei don’t have any shadows... Kotaku goes on to point out that there’s a famous murder Samaya Incident which became a popular media story in 1963 Japan. My Neighbor Totoro takes place in the Samaya Hills. The story also takes place in May; with Satsuki’s name translating to “May” and Mei being self-explanatory. Studio Ghibli went on to deny the rumors, but the connections do seem oddly apparent. There’s a peculiar darkness to the film; as though the ghosts are not just showing the sisters a good time, but distracting them from their mother’s illness. There isn’t necessarily anything to corroborate that what the girls see is true. Maybe the susuwatari were actually just dust bunnies soon cleaned out of the house once they all arrived; maybe Mei’s fantasy of crawling through the camphor tree was all just a dream; and maybe the two fell asleep at the bus stop rather than momentarily meeting Totoro and the catbus (after all, what was the point of this sequence if not as a type of brief dream before their father arrived). It is creepy that no one beyond the mother addresses Mei, given that the whole neighbor has been searching for her. Or that even though the mother has been hospitalized for months that a small cold is all that prevented her from coming home. At the very least, it’s easy enough to imagine that she lied about the cold, and that she might be coming home to spend her remaining days with the family. In which, whether death or a guiding spirit from the other world, the idea does tie the story together. Planting the seeds of life, making them one with nature, it does appear as though they’re preparing either both or one of the girls for death. Of course, this all might be speculation and Ghibli is honest in his denial, but I’m then left wondering what this movie is about, and why so many people would love it if not for containing some deeper meaning. BELOW: Great scene. Could be about death Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Easy enough metaphor Director: Mark Rydell Writer: Robert Dillon and Julian Barry Cinematographer: Vilmos Zsigmond Producer: Robert Cortes and Edward Lewis by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... Even with all this, there’s still Mae who attempts to keep up the farm, home, and her children; still pursued by Joe Wade and doing her best to respectfully reject his passes to avoid risking their crop sales come next season. I even appreciate that Joe never crosses that line that seems so expected from 80s cinema. The film never wants to push an individual side. It’s disrespectful for Joe to approach Mae, but he’s really just a bro asshole. Not someone we hope dies or is killed. It’s the peak of Scott Glenn’s power; taking it up to the line, but never crossing over and allowing the final scene to play to the best of its ability. Before getting to the end, Mae has an equally thrilling scene to the labor sequence, as while working on the tractor one afternoon, it breaks down. Earlier, Tom had returned a defective brand new hose on his tractor, struggling to find a replacement as it’s so old. Mae experiences a different mechanical problem, finding the piece and going to replace it when the gears start spinning, trapping her arm between the chain and gear, with blood pouring out of her forearm. In fairness, it’s not the best looking effect, but given that it’s the film’s one element I can criticize, it nevertheless provides a thrilling sequence as some delivery men show up to drop off grain, failing to hear her screams and then moving off. In a striking sequence I can’t even begin to understand how they shot, one of their cattle comes by which Mae antagonizes until it starts ramming into the tractor, loosening the gears until finally releasing her arm. Gear trap aside, the sequence is striking; the type of cinematic moment that you feel burned into your mind as images of her trapped arm, the hot summer sun, and the cow’s violence charging all melt into as thrilling a sequence as good as any Hitchcock. Of course, the rain soon follows and the river floods again, though instead of Tom and his family working alone, his neighbors help, once again bulldozing the land to create a dam. Pissed that Tom and the others aren’t going to sell the farm, Joe Wade gathers his scabs and plans to force the sale by destroying the dam and flooding the fields. After Wade arrives, one of the men throws a small bomb that blows a hole in the dam, prompting Tom to grab his shotgun and load it up, demanding Wade and the others get off their land. The man from the factory who attempted to escape then attempts to prevent anyone from fixing the breach. Tom fires a warning shot and the man freezes. Gibson’s eyes - most reminiscent from Braveheart (1995) - show that he is not kidding. He will shoot the man and anyone else who fails to get off his land. It’s a moment that I think might send the left wing anti-gun radicals (I’m talking the people who want to abolish the second amendment) into epilepsy. Here was a hero of the working man showing the right to stand their ground; using the finest piece of freedom, that is the right to own land, to prevent anyone from taking it away; whether the big government the right might fear, or big business bloodless capitalists on the left. In a scene that shouldn’t work but somehow does, Tom then gets into his tractor and pushes Joe Wade’s expensive Jeep into the blown pit, jumping into the water with sandbags to block it up, causing the others to create an assembly line as they feed him dirt. Ending on Joe Wade who delivers the final sand bag, immediately realizing his mistake and somehow providing redemption for a character that would typically never have any; at least not so far as to assist his alleged enemy. The moral of the story could be discussed for hours, ranging from the dangers and greed of excess to the ways in which it infects governments and communities, to a philosophy of marriage and parenting, to the principles of labor and ownership. It played as the perfect film, combining ideas and images that not only demand a second viewing, but make you hungry for one. The type of movie that makes you want to call all your friends over for the experience. It’s a movie for any fan of Bernie Sanders or Elizabeth Warren, reflecting the spirit of the working family. Being from the 1980s, you have to appreciate how progressive Mae’s character was for the era; not as some dependent farmer wife, but as a completely independent and integral worker. The marriage had parity, if not even tipping a bit more in Mae’s direction as Tom succumbed to jealousy. It provides a brilliant motivation for Tom, never taking forefront but always demonstrating his love for his wife. I was left thinking of Malle’s God’s Country (1985), which followed a bunch of farmers from 1979 and into the early 80s recession; demonstrating how Reagan’s policies impacted their lives amidst an era of rapid corporate consolidation. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mark Rydell had watched Malle’s film, or if like American Fable (2016), it’s simply one of those forgotten stories. We don’t often think about how farmers used to work, as now with the endless mergers, many are run like fast food chains, having to abide by a strict workflow in order to stay partnered with the megafarms. From my shaky memory, the crippling of regulations during a recession allowed massive farmers to consolidate and buy up their smaller competition. In Joe Wade's case, wiping out the obstacles standing in his way in order to make room for a state of the art dam facility that’ll make him rich beyond imagination. The River portrays another time, which for being in the 80s seemed so recent and yet is fading into history. Back when independent farmers could survive as climate change exhibited its earliest signs. There’s so much talk about these types of workers who are courted during political campaigns; from the left and the right, which while one being more honorable show their dishonor by failing to see their fellow man. As of writing this, Trump’s tariff battle with China is finally taking root, and once again we see farmers struggling to move their crops and be forced into bankruptcy. It leaves you wondering if another massive sell off and merger will take place; further consolidating land in the name of a few rather than the many. Some will get ahead, others will refuse to sell, and most will lose their autonomy. The left fears it to the rich and the right fears it to the government; all while the two become further entrenched. The problem is so severe that it causes their passionate philosophies to never give an inch, when if they just somehow looked fairly at the problem, it could probably make things better for all. The River shows what happens when things continue to go down the current path and why we should appreciate all freedoms; however bad they might seem. BELOW: Slim pickings on YT so here's Sissy talking about the flick Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Gotta find it on Bluray Director: Mark Rydell Writer: Robert Dillon and Julian Barry Cinematographer: Vilmos Zsigmond Producer: Robert Cortes and Edward Lewis by Jon Cvack As mentioned with School Ties (1992), there’s a sadness I get every time I discover a good film I’ve never heard of, knowing that the chances of discovering the next one just got a bit lower. A week since seeing it, I’m confident in saying The River is the greatest American film I’ve never heard of. It’s the type of filmmaking that fails to exist today; in which big money could still tell intimate stories about seemingly small characters but within a grand environment; where there is no image wasted that doesn’t expand and progress the story forward, fully actualized by Vilmos Zsigmond. The River’s intro is up there with Once Upon a Time in the West (1968), featuring a young boy fishing on a small creek, as rain begins to fall. We watch as the water flows through the creek, hills, and crops and make its way to its parenting river which rises. It cuts to the corn stalks in muddy fields, soon overtaken by the rising waters and then we cut to the Garvey family; trying their best to dam up the water by driving bulldozers through the land; struggling to outpace the bulging waters as they break through the mounds. The tractor then tips over, trapping Tom Garvey’s (Mel Gibson) leg underneath and the water rushes in. His wife Mae (Sissy Spacek) and their neighbor jump in to help and in a scene as though straight out of Hard Rain (1998) - that is every bit as thrilling and credible - we watch as they rush to get Tom free. While thankful for his life, he also realizes his crops are completely destroyed, the house is damaged, and that he’ll have to go deeper into debt for repairs. It’s an opening scene which is perfect cinema; as though lifted straight from Steinbeck. Using only images the excitement builds, from a beautiful day to a torrential and catastrophic rainstorm; slowly building bit by bit until we grasp the gravity and then move into the characters who break the natural images with a noisy and dangerous tractor; digging trenches through the ground and destroying everything in sight. It plays like a monster scene; attempting to tame some wild beast and getting trapped in the process. The next day, we meet the one wealthy distributor in town, Joe Wade (Scott Glenn) as he gives a helicopter tour of the flood to a state senator. The images are incredible, featuring actual flooded farms; surrounded by the brown water which buries the fields below. Clearly director Mark Rydell and Vilmos Zsigmond headed to actual flood sites to catch the footage. Joe explains that the damage is done, and as floods occur more frequently, the place is perfect for a water dam; best to just let the area flood. The only problems are the farmers who refuse to sell their property. Still, with the recent flood taking its toll, farmers have decided to auction off their equipment and land, with most of the background characters looking like they had to have been cast from the area. However, most refuses, uninterested in buying up another family’s land or equipment for pennies on the dollar for their own benefit. The scene is intercut with Tom at the bank, where we learn that he’s delinquent on thousands of dollars from last year’s crops and is now asking for a loan to cover the present year. The banker explains that it’s impossible to repay, suggesting he look into selling his farm in order to cut his losses; maybe even to Joe Wade. It’s yet another brilliant sequence that provides the stakes we’re going to be following; that most in the area are struggling with losing everything they own and still refuse to give up. With Joe Wade having the one market in town, he sets the prices every day however he wishes as the farmers drive up with their loads, hoping for upward movement. After the flood, Joe Wade sets prices low, enraging the farmers who declare it’s less than they spent on the crops. Wade doesn’t budge. It’s never specifically mentioned, but the suggestion is clear enough; he can starve the farmers out and then claim their land for even cheaper. Earlier, outside the bank Joe Wade approaches Mae and propositions her, explaining how he could take good care of her and the kids. I can’t remember where I saw it but a reviewer called Sissy Spacek as the purest actor we had from the heartland (or something along those lines). There’s a complete and vivid honesty about her presence; as though she’s both acting and being in equal parts. She has no interest in Joe, yet expresses the subtlest suggestion of imagining the life he could provide for their children. You can’t help but admire how well Scott Glenn plays a slimeball; never allowing us to all hate him, always having the charm to make us suspect he might be a good guy (Backdraft (1991) is the other film that comes to mind). The subplot also provides a beautiful dynamic between Tom and Mae, as Tom tries his hardest to contain his jealousy, with Mel Gibson’s eyes revealing he feels. He too understands the temptation. Not that he thinks there’s love so much as a better life that he’s failing to provide; where rivers don’t stand to completely wipe out their home. It’s when Tom forgets to pick up Mae while working on the house, and Joe then offers her a ride that we see the complexity of Tom’s feelings. He’s not worried that his wife is going to leave him and it’s her loyalty that creates the passions. The two make love in the kitchen; kicking their youngest son out. Nothing more than a kiss is shown and still the passion burns off the screen. The Garveys return home and attempt to rebuild their farm and recover whatever they can of the crops while preparing for the next year, though with no money, it’s impossible to survive. Tom is forced to go take a factory job and so begins one of the most thrilling chapters of the film and what I think stands up to some of the greatest cinematography from the period. Tom meets his other temp workers and they all hop on a truck, expecting honest work and then discovering a worker’s strike; with the labor immediately assaulting them with rocks, sticks, and whatever else they can find. They realize they’re the scabs. Unfamiliar as pertaining to union workers, I never understood the concept of scab years ago. It seemed like if people refused to work in order to get better pay than others who were willing to work for less should be able to. This film takes a brilliant approach by demonstrating both sides, but doing so from a place of empathy. The situation is expressed through a series of wide images that you rarely see anymore; where there is always motion, movement, and depth within the screen. We move from the terrifying factory, where the less skilled workers attempt to preserve the level of quality. It’s the type of work that is hardly even possible to capture today; serving as that rare type of film as historical document; capturing a period in time when productions such as The Deer Hunter or Rudy could still find such old factories to shoot in, demonstrating how dangerous they were. It isn’t long before one worker gets seriously injured and the company starts to understand the liability. From there we enter the barracks where the men are forced to live and sleep; with skinny bunk beds stacked up, reminding me of a battleship or submarine. It’s the type of shot reserved only for the highest level of filmmaking. We don’t need to see the entire space and all of the crew and cast and money it’d take to fill it up rather than just getting right to the conversation. But it further immerses us into the world, allowing us to experience the claustrophobia. The men are of course free to leave. Only problem is they won’t receive any security as they’re forced to walk through the picketing union workers outside. It’s the management’s ostensible method of enslavement. Sure they can leave, they just might not survive to work another day. Nevertheless, on one particular evening, a young man attempts to break out, attempting to climb the fence when Tom and his other buddies rush up to stop him. Too late, they’re forced to hop over, where the film then almost takes the tone of a Romero zombie film as workers come out of the darkness and attack the scab labor before they finally break free. It’s a strange film where the tone of each moment plays completely unique to different genres while blending all together. Out of nowhere, the scab labor are assembled and told that they’re no longer needed. Management has reached a deal. In one of the most thrilling scenes I can recall watching from the last few years, the company then tells the scab labor that they’ll have to walk out. The company cannot even afford the trucks to take them to safety. That, or the labor demanded it; requiring that the scab labor walk through them. I had no idea what to expect beyond the obvious, except when the gates opened up and we saw the police, you wondered how deep it went. The police were there to keep the workers at bay, but what would happen once the workers were appeased and they all could unite behind assaulting the scab labor; especially when earlier in the film we see that not all workers are righteous; and that bad people exist on all sides. It’s enough to make us question what happens - not that Tom will die, but how badly will he suffer, then forced to go back home with the little he earned and deal with the next flooding. As the scab labor walks out, surrounded by the workers, with police looking like they’ll remain on the sidelines should anything occur. Instead the union labor opens up the road and lets them pass. Even so, it doesn’t take long for the crowd to begin howling insults, soon throwing fruit and vegetables, and one spitting in Tom’s face. In terms of how labor is presented in movies, this must be the most nuanced film I’ve ever seen. BELOW: No clips on the YT so here's the trailer Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Best movie about family in quite some time Director: Lulu Wang Writer: Lulu Wang Cinematographer: Anna Franquesa Solano Producer: Daniele Melia, Marc Turtletaub, Peter Saraf, Andrew Miano, Chris Weitz, Jane Zheng, Lulu Wang, and Anita Gou by Jon Cvack My fellow friend and cinephile at work mentioned that The Farewell was his favorite film of the year and given that we’re in month eight (at the time this writing) I knew that was saying something. The story is about a second generation Chinese American student named Billi (Awkwafina) who lives in New York City and is struggling to get by; falling behind on her bills, counting on getting the prestigious Guggenheim Fellowship, and getting a letter of rejection. Billi returns home to her high strung mother, Jian (Diana Lin), cooking dinner and discovers her dad, Haiyan (Tzi Ma), upstairs and upset; nervous that he’s started drinking again. He reveals that Billi’s grandmother Nai Nai (Zhao Shu-zhen) has gotten lung cancer and is estimated to die in four months. Jian and Haiyan want the family to return to China to pretend to attend Billi’s weird cousin’s wedding in order to share some time with Nai Nai and say goodbye. Per Chinese custom, the family will not tell Nai Nai that her mom has cancer until just a few weeks before she passes. Billi vehemently disagrees, believing it wrong to lie to grandmother and failing to grasp the cultural significance. From an immediate view, I imagine most agree with Billi, and yet you then realize the benefit. If a person thinks that they just have a cold and it might end soon, it’s not as though they’re doomed to reflect on their imminent death and forced to countdown the days. The purpose is to bear the burden and guilt in place of the victim who’s then allowed to appreciate her final days. Billi doesn’t inform her family that she’s coming, and while the rest of her family is suspicious, Nai Nai is thrilled to see her granddaughter. We meet the suspicious bride and groom, the peculiar looking Hao Hao (Chen Han) and his acne-ridden fiance Aiko (Aoi Mizuhara) who play some of the best characters of the film; in which all the family members wonder why on Earth they’re getting married, whether it’s because of a child, or if they actually love each other. They never speak a word to one another, always looking as though they’re sucked out of reality. We go on to learn and discover the other characters; from Billi’s father glued to his brother Haibin (Jiang Yongbo)’ s hip; drinking more and more every night until finally taking up smoking again. We watch Billi’s alarm and disappointment. To think we only heard a single question earlier, and still this moment captures so much history. Her dad evidently had a drinking problem and he’s flirting with it once again and Awkwafina's reaction shows the past. Nai Nai is your above average happy go lucky grandmother; loving each and every moment with her family; still seeing herself as the matriarch and in control, watching over and guiding their lives. Nai Nai’s sister Nai Nai (Lu Hong) was the only underdeveloped character (which you could suspect for having the same name). Her flashy style and unique look blended well with the family, but it felt like the one person I wanted to know more about. Strange enough, I experienced a similar situation recently. My cousin was getting married on the East Coast and after just taking a week off to be with my girlfriend for an important family event, my grandmother demanded I go to the wedding. My dad had always criticized anyone making co-workers' lives inconvenient for your personal benefit. My work already provided me time off to go with my girlfriend on vacation to New York and asking for more time felt unfair. I’m of course saying this in defense of the fact that I did not go to the wedding. My grandmother is 97 years old and now believes she will go any day; regardless of the fact that she still writes me multiple letters per week, cooks her own meals, and lives on her own; fully mobile. She’s at the age where it could happen, she just doesn’t appear in the condition that would lead many to think such. Of course the movie was a strange coincidence; about a woman Billi who wants to be with her dying grandmother one last time at the wedding. The movie is as much about change as about family, and how people continue relationships when there’s so much distance or culture apart. There is a great dinner scene where the family talks about China, its booming economy, and - ever so gently - the ways in which America allows for freedom while China limits it. Billi’s great lesson is learning to communicate with all those around her. Her greatest challenge being to convince her family they’re wrong and that they should tell her grandmother, hoping they’ll soon hear her, but then finally hearing them. It’s the best film I’ve seen all year as well. It’s when the credits rolled that I got the biggest smile; seeing that the director’s grandmother continues to live to this day, years since being diagnosed. I think my grandma will be doing the same. Unfortunately, having written this about a year and a half ago, my own grandmother finally passed away last November at the age of 99. Miss you Gram. BELOW: Little taste Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  A feminist icon Director: Carl Theodor Dreyer Writer: Carl Theodor Dreyer and Grethe Risbjerg Thomsen (poems); based on Gertrud by Hjalmar Söderberg Cinematographer: Henning Bendtsen Producer: Jørgen Nielsen by Jon Cvack The last two Dreyer films I’d watched were Vampyr (1932) and Day of Wrath (1943); both watched during Scary Movie Month in 2012, which I remember fondly though can’t recall a single detail. Before that it was The Passion of Joan of Arc (1929) the year before; serving as one of those classic art films I finally made it to and enjoyed, but kind of fell into the Not-So-Sure-When-I’ll-Revisit category of classic cinema. Netflix DVD synopsis mentions that Gertrud is composed of only 89 shots, which at just shy of two hours, is pretty impressive. And yet Dreyer somehow makes it impressive by never making it seem like he’s shooting in a bunch of oners. The story starts with a moderate take in the beginning, introducing a middle aged woman as the title character played by Nina Pens Rode who’s married to the career obsessed and ambitious Gustav Kanning (Bendt Rothe). Gertrud explains that his work obsession has caused her to meet another man who she’s fallen in love with and plans to pursue; asking Gustav for a divorce. In two behind the scenes interviews, actors Baard Owe as Getrud’s lover Erland Jansson and Axel Strøbye as Axel Nygren, Gertrud’s old friend who’s been in love with her for a lifetime, both mention how they received little to no direction. Dreyer would simply have them do it again and again until he eventually got what they wanted. Owe specifically mentioned how stilted and “archaic” he thought the dialogue was. Dreyer told him it’s a film about words. It reminds me of David Mamet’s “invent nothing/deny nothing” mantra. Aside from Gertrud’s initial scene with Owe, rarely does Gertrud ever lose the somber look on her face; which per the Kuleshov Effect, makes her response to each scene all the more fascinating. Around her husband it shows indifference, around Axel it shows longing and fondness, and around Owe it shows heartbreak and disappointment. We follow Gertrud as she pursues Owe, making love to him after visiting the park, to then head back home and to a banquet dedicated to honoring Dutch poet Gabriel Lidman (Ebbe Rode) who offers his views on love, which I wish I wrote down as I can’t recall the details and seems significant; other than the crumbs of it being cold, dry, and painfully honest. We learn that Lidman was once involved with Gertrud, and most of his ruminations on love are all based on that relationship. He’s never let her go. Later at the party, Lidman tells Gertrud that Jansson had told everyone at a party how he had sex with her; going so far as to call her a whore. Gertrud confronts Jansson the next day and demands he choose between being with her or not. Jansson then admits he’s gotten another woman pregnant. Lidman then pursues Gertrud, but as he too was focused on his career, Gertrud knows it couldn’t work. Her husband makes one last attempt, saying she could even keep her lover if she stayed with him; we’re unsure whether to preserve his image amongst his friends or colleagues, or because he actually realized how much he loved her. Years later, Gertrud is now old and still single. She’s greeted by Axel who’s in town, and she admits that her greatest mistake was searching for the perfect love; with Axel holding his hands and expressing how he feels about her once again and still it goes unrequited. Owe mentioned that few had high hopes for Gertrud, and once released, it was an extremely popular film amongst women. The film captures the alienation a woman could feel within a particular world. Divorce was entirely the man’s decision, leaving women to either risk adultery, or attempt honesty and hope for the best. To think divorce is only a recent right granted to women, and that they could be entirely trapped in a loveless - or worse - unfaithful or abusive marriage is an idea few consider; serving as a form of enslavement. It seems women flocked to the film because it portrayed such a taboo; showing what a strong and honest woman could do. An American version would have had her end up with one of the men; likely her lifelong friend Axel. Instead we see a woman with complex thoughts on love and purpose; believing the idealism of love and discovering the dangers of holding too firm for perfection. It’s a strong character not just for choosing to live her life, but for learning the tragic consequences of what absolute freedom can lead to. The film seems very much about the hope of what freedom can provide versus the reality. Some will achieve great things - whether with love or career, others will discover disappointment, and Gertrud appreciates each and every moment. BELOW: A taste of Dreyer's modest singles Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of Damon's best Director: Robert Mandel Writer: Dick Wolf and Darryl Ponicsan Cinematographer: Freddie Francis Producer: Stanley R. Jaffe and Sherry Lansing by Jon Cvack The Private Boys School movie is another one of those weird sub-genres that contain more great movies the more you think. The classic is of course Dead Poets Society (1989), and in close second would be Louis Malle’s Au Revoir les Enfants (1987), Harold Becker’s other movie Taps (1981), which takes a direction I never would have thought but went on to inspire Toy Soldiers (1991) and Masterminds (1997), and my friend told me about a female led private school movie All I Wanna Do (1998); which seems to be the Now and Then (1995) version of the male dominant movement. School Ties is one of those bizarre movies that I imagine flew far under everyone’s radar after Dead Poets Society’s impact. The cast is pretty incredible, at least for how young they were: Brendon Fraser, Chris O'Donnell, Ben Affleck and Matt Damon who in one of his first roles*, plays an anti-semite , who’s by far the best bad guy character he’s ever pulled off; to the point of being surprised Matt Damon could play a complete and absolute pile of shit with no remorseful qualities whatsoever. I don’t think he’s ever gone this far again. Taking place in the 1950s, Brendan Frasier plays David Greene, a Jewish high school senior from the small rural town of Scranton, Pennsylvania. He’s awarded a football scholarship to a prestigious prep school as the first Jewish student to attend. From the get go, we see David with his townie friends, all dressed in white t-shirts. A rival gang arrives and make anti-semitic remarks and David fights one down; getting a nice jab to the face. His dad warns him about his attitude, explaining that it’s his one opportunity to achieve great thing. That or risk remaining in Scranton, if he can't control his rage. After a brilliant 90s traveling montage, showing the excitement of the unknown, David’s coach McDevitt (Kevin Tighe) picks David up and they drive through the rolling hillside, arriving to campus where a gigantic set piece involving dozens and dozens of students and their families and all of their cars and luggage, moving into and out of the buildings. Though as friendly as McDevitt is for the ride, he then warns David about opening up his religion to other students. We soon learn that the prep school’s football team has had a losing streak for years and is desperate to recover; not wanting David for his academic skills or character, but because he’s the one quarterback to help them recover. David becomes well aware of the situation while figuring he’s using the school to get into Harvard any way; thus it’s a two-way bargain and no big deal. His roommate is Chris Reece (Chris O'Donnell) as the friendliest of the group and he’s soon greeted by the most popular guys in the school: Rip Van Kelt (Randall Batinkoff), Charlie Dillon (Matt Damon), Chesty Smith (Ben Affleck), Jack Connors (Cole Hauser), and the theatrical Mack McGivern (Andrew Lowery). They bust each other’s balls and are a bit slow in bringing David into their clique until one night during lights out while singing along to some rock 'n roll they’re interrupted by their new house master and French teacher Mr. Clearly (Željko Ivanek) who demands they go to bed; calling them a bunch of monkeys. David then makes a monkey sound behind his back and the boys laugh and they all become friendly. That is until, while later showering after practice and most of the boys unleash a series anti-semitic rants and jokes. David discovers that he’s replaced the old quarterback, Charlie Dillion, who’s a bit bitter about the situation, with Damon doing an expert job of acting like all is okay. David crushes it at the first game and the school is thrilled. David later meets and wins over a girl that Charlie Dillion has been pursuing since childhood. There’s an awkward sexual tension between Mack and Mr. Clearly, all the more complex when Mr. Clearly bullies Mack throughout the semester; leaving Mack to soon attempt suicide. I’m not sure what this had to do with anti-semitism and it felt like a studio note telling the writers to include a suicide like from A Separate Peace (1959) and Dead Poets Society. Things get more hairy when David fails to pass Charlie the game winning touchdown, and with now having his girl, Charlie reveals that David’s a Jew. Immediately all the other boys distance themselves, coughing up more explicit anti-semitic jokes and comments, hoping to get David to explode and kicked out of school. All the while they’re about to head into finals, and with all the drama, Charlie has forgotten to study, creating a cheat sheet that he brings to class, caught by both David and Van Kelt, then drops it for the teacher to discover and the film becomes a kind of 12 Angry Men (1957) procedural where the teacher demands the students bring forward who cheated or they’ll all fail; which seemed like it could have worked better by using the teacher we’ve been following for the majority of the film; that is, Mr. Clearly rather than a history teacher we’ve never met. David confronts Charlie and demands he speak up and avoid screwing all of the students; either that, or David will tell them. It was here, given all I’ve seen from Matt Damon that I saw something I’ve never seen; in which he went the extra mile of slime by pretending like he might do the right thing and then in front of all the other students calls out David before David can accuse Charlie. There was then this weird moment, where in about ten seconds, David stands up and hits back with his own rhetoric and the rest of the students immediately demand they leave in order to deliberate who to blame; denying a more dramatic moment of David pleading his case. It wasn’t just anti-semitic, it felt like a rushed moment that had been building. The students debate throughout the night and Chris is the one most sympathetic to the case. They bring it to an up or down vote and decide David is at fault. Given the significance of what they’re about to do, the glaring hole is why the students wouldn’t just demand the piece of paper and figure out who might have either written it or gotten access to particular notes; the former being the most obvious. Have both write out a cheat sheet in the same way and compare the handwriting. David is led to the office and he admits to what he did; accepting the consequence. And just as it seems like his expulsion is complete, Van Kelt speaks up, hiding behind a chair. He admits to seeing Charlie and apologizes. The teachers seemingly split between sympathy and relief that they didn’t lose their star quarterback. It’s what makes David’s final jab all the more powerful; telling the headmaster that as they’re using him for football he’s going to use them to get into Harvard. Moments later, David heads outside and Charlie pulls up, on his way out. In a nasty and truly just disgusting final confrontation, Charlie says it doesn’t matter what David does as he’ll always be a Jew. For what was headed toward such a positive ending was then pulled down; portraying a grim cynicism and yet prescient moment. It’s not that David will always be a Jew. What Charlie admits to is that there will always be hate and the necessity of pushing back. In today’s world, with the El Paso shooting occurring just a couple weeks back and where we’re now discussing white supremacy domestic terrorism; where young men carried tortures shouting “Jews will not replace us”, it’s a film like this that shows we can never assume hate is over. It just goes into hiding and lies dormant, waiting for the right moment to rise up and show itself. And how it must always be confronted head on and called out for what it is. *His previous role was an extra in Field of Dreams (1989) BELOW: Need more evil roles from Damon Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Park Chan-wook Writer: Park Chan-wook and Chung Seo-kyung Cinematography: Chung Chung-hoon Producer: Park Chan-wook and Syd Lim by Jon Cvack The Handmaiden departs from the dark and flashy style Chan-Wook Park is best known for. The last film I saw from Park was Sympathy for Lady Vengeance back in 2014. I didn’t remember much in terms of his style specifics, but I expected The Handmaiden to provide the same grit. There’s a strange style of filmmaking that I struggle to label - a kind of epic period piece coming-of-age storytelling. Amarcord (1973), Life is Beautiful (1997), The Color Purple (1985), A Very Long Engagement (2004), and Phantom Thread (2017) are the first to come to mind; often involving a director at the top of their game who finally has the budget to express their full imagination. Not knowing what this film was about, the intro immediately immerses you into the mystery. We’re in Japanese-occupied Korea and follow a Japanese rich heiress Lady/Izumi Hideko (Kim Min-hee) who lives in a gigantic and beautiful mansion, half designed by the English and the other half by Japan. We then move into a band of street criminals, ranging in age and expertise, crafting everything from counterfeit money to the perfect pick pocket. The leader Count Fujiwara (Ha Jung-woo) decides to try and con his way into marrying Lady Hideko, send her to an insane asylum and then pocket all her money. He is their newest and youngest member, the seemingly innocent and beautiful Sook-hee (Kim Tae-ri). Somehow Sook-hee gets into the position of Lady Hideko’s handmaiden; immediately falling in love. Lady Hideko immediately picks up on the attraction and the pair have their first sexual encounter. Counter Fujiwara then arrives shortly after and attempts to woo over Hideko. While I’m a bit confused over how both he and Sook-hee got to their respective positions, the frenetic style made me buy it, and so begins a love triangle as Sook-hee further develops her feelings and passion. The narrative then shifts in time, which is done in a jarring and yet smart way (when I correctly followed), in which when Sook-hee and Count Fujiwara take Hideko to the insane asylum to pull of the con for Fujiwara to reverse course, and have convinced the hospital that Sook-hee is actually Lady Hideko. The next two parts of the films help explain this grand con; taking place years earlier with Lady Hideko having some weird uncle that reads her sadistic sexual fantasies; some involving a giant squid. To be honest, around here I failed to keep track of the overall details. I was left with some of the most beautiful and unique images I’ve seen in a long time - of a person having sex with a Human sized wood partner and rich men watching on in tuxedos; of one of the most sensual and beautiful sex scenes I can recall of this decade; of the gothic mansion and green parks; of the octopus illustrations and the same animal in the acquarium, oozing out Another viewing will connect the timeline, and yet, like any great storyteller, the images alone piece together the story. It’s an epic tale of love across two women, battling against male forces that hope to preserve them as objects, using them at their pleasure. I’m not familiar with the conflict between Korea and Japan, and somehow Chan-Wook Park communicates the metaphor. There is the desire for free and open love versus tyrannical subjugation. I suspect the countries underwent a similar struggle. Chan-Wook Park creates the perfect kind of cinema - the need to return and the excitement for the day. BELOW: A taste of the images Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  One of the best movie presidents Director: Rob Reiner Writer: Aaron Sorkin Cinematographer: John Seale Producer: Rob Reiner By Jon Cvack I once heard on some podcasts that people view presidential administrations as one of three TVs - The West Wing’s idealism, Veep’s unawareness, or House of Cards’ treachery. Compared to past and current presidents, you realize it’s more of a three-way spectrum. The American President is one of maybe twenty-five movies my dad would put on growing up. Not quite as frequently as The Sound of Music (1965) or Ghost (1990), but pretty close. Having no interest or knowledge of politics (and therefore having no idea the Clinton scandal was about sex), I recall it was my first understanding of the presidency. Now seeing this through political eyes, the idea that my Republican father would so much enjoy this movie about a Democrat dating a firebrand liberal and running against a family-values conservative just goes to show the power of story. If I were to list some of my favorite scenes before I got into movies, it'd be when the President responds to an airstrike and how he likely just killed a janitor who was going about his job, I remember the way in which it uses imagery to convince me of an idea. I saw the man who I knew nothing about, going to a job and getting killed while the people who should be killed were likely safe. It’s one of my initial memories of empathy. My initial memories of the film were of moments like this - of charm, wit, intelligence, and leadership (I was nine when it came out). This time around, I saw how much fun Sorkin gave to the adults by showing how government and elections function. The American President is essentially a brilliant proof of concept feature for what would go on to become The West Wing. Michael Douglas plays President Andrew Shepherd who’s gearing up for reelection. Working with his team, including Chief of Staff A.J. MacInerney (Martin Sheen) and Assistant to the President for Domestic Policy (played brilliantly by Michael J. Fox), David Paymer as Leon Kodak, Deputy Chief of Staff, and Anna Deavere Smith as Robin McCall, White House Press Secretary (who compared to the other three dudes, is the team’s most boring character; more on that later). They’re leading the charge on a watered down defense bill that’s three votes shy of passing the senate and looks to keep Shepherd's approval rating at 63%. In shotgun is a far more aggressive climate change bill, in which a local environmental lobbying firm just hired ace lobbyist Sydney Ellen Wade (Annette Bening); a passionate, brilliant, and expensive lobbyist whose results make it worth it (though I was left wondering how an environmental lobbyist makes more than the president, as she later says). I’m not sure if lobbyists were viewed the same way then as today, but the set up is pure Neoliberal Sorkin - a rich and hyper educated lobbyist gets involved with a powerful and hyper educated President; determined to make it a better world for all. People can make fun of it, but I see it the same as any fantasy about the upper classes which draws the public eye; they want to see lives and scenarios larger than their own. Frank Capra’s influence is apparent from the get go. Similar in style to The West Wing intro but without the individual character crossfades, Rob Reiner opts for washes between the American flag and various artifacts you’d find in the oval office - former president busts, bronze eagle statues, an expensive looking clock. It’s a style I now see hardly anywhere else beyond some Hallmark Christmas movies when I’m home for the holidays. It’s radically sentimental, and perfectly achieves Capra’s classic voice. Given that Capra’s films were obviously even whiter than in the 90s, the best Sorkin can do to address this issue is have Sydney quote Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) to the film’s one speaking black actor security guard. In one of the cringier moments, Sydney’s lobbyist colleague condescends her her to avoid making the movie reference to the black security guard as he neither cares nor could understand the reference. Of course, the security guard does get the reference and smiles back at the ladies and that’s about as much color as the film receives. It’s a fine example of racist-lite, where I’m sure a seemingly good intention moment reveals the - at best - implicit bias writers deal with throughout each generation. President Shepherd - who lost his wife a few years back - develops an immediate attraction to Sydney, after a pretty funny scene, where in classic structure, she unleashes a firestorm of criticism against the president should he fail to support the climate legislation; she’s talking to A.J. with her back turned and then the president then enters. Only Michael Douglas could pull off appearing to not give a single fuck what she said. Instead he develops an attraction to her. The film was released at the pinnacle of the Monica Lewinsky scandal. Aaron Sorkin also wrote the screenplay while on blow. In some ways it diminishes the film’s power knowing American politics of the day which would continue its downward trajectory from Lewinsky on (not Obama; Sarah Palin and the Tea Party and then Trump).. Clean as it seemed, in this #MeToo era, there is a bizarre dynamic at work. On the one hand, if Reiner and Sorkin were going to honor Capra, it was completely normal for two people to meet and become engaged within days (both in films and culturally*). Thus, to have Shepherd immediately faun over and quickly fall in love while fast, wasn’t nearly as bad as the strange power dynamic. Sydney never seems to mind that he used the FBI to find her number (we never know it’s a joke; and I’m not sure it is - think about it, he couldn’t call her work to ask for her home number). I suppose there are questions of a peculiar power dynamic between the two, and after sitting here trying to criticize the relationship, the combination of Capra influence and simply telling a good story makes it work. I never get the impression that Sydney is a weak character. Given how charming and handsome Michael Douglas is (nevertheless his position), it seems reasonable that it wouldn’t take as much as much effort as, say, Lyndon Johnson, to win her attraction. Abiding by the classic romance structure, they have their first fight when Shepherd's challenger, Senator Bob Rumson (Richard Dreyfuss) leaks pictures of Sydney standing a demonstration while a flag burns in the foreground. It causes a press firestorm and Shepherd’s numbers start tanking. The public doesn’t like the idea of the President dating; let alone a liberal like Sydney Wade. Shepherd and his team decide the crime bill is their best chance to combat the problem, but when three Senators decline to support the defense bill unless Shepherd drops the climate bill. For the good of the election, Shepherd dumps it, even though Sydney had gotten all the votes that matter, leading to her packing up; pissed that Shepherd would choose a watered down crime bill instead of significant environmental policy. Of course, the President comes around and gives one of the greatest presidential movie monologues of all time (up there with Bill Pullman’s), declaring that he was going to dump the crime bill because it did hardly much of anything; instead exchanging it for the climate bill because it’s the right thing to do. Looking beyond the dipping polls, he drops the ego, turns back to integrity, and says Sydney is off limits. If Bob Rumson wants to fight, he’s going to fight the President.* It’s a bold and risky ending. We have no idea what happens. Whether Rumson backs off, or continues the attacks and beats Shephard. In today’s climate, it arguably cuts out where it should more or less begin. I was left wondering whether the intention was to develop The West Wing, another film was in the works, or it was simply the right place to end the story. Because somehow it has always worked. The film is hopeful that I’ve ever doubted he went on to win. If I was a betting man, I’d refer to films like this for what could represent the Trump era. As so many have said, the man is entirely self-satirizing, to where even SNL just fails to capture his frantic, dangerous, and yet hilarious mind (as in laughing at his decisions, but also funny in the sense of how good he is at trolling people; guiding a scandalous discussion every week while we ignore the actual substance of what he’s doing). I work in digital production and deal with many influencers, and countless times I’ve heard that a movie should be made about them. But the situation is beyond satire, as in I either don’t think people would buy it, be interested in it, or understand it - how big it is and how absurd it can get. Trump achieves the same. He’s not a wildly raucous, charming, or evil leader. He’s just a self-centered man with a massive and fragile ego. To provide an honest look at the situation would not be believable; we couldn’t accept the premise - either that there’s a complex human underneath there, or that someone like that could get to the white house. Like most others, I’m completely exhausted by the situation. If you get bored and look back throughout the year, each week is a new pile of bullshit created by Trump; either racist, hurtful, sexist, offensive, or a mixture of all three. The show has had no break in nearly three years and it is beyond exhausting. Add constant mass shootings to the mix, and I’ve just never been as depressed about where the country is. Killing and hating each other, with a president who’s taking one side. Instead, I think audiences want a return to feel good movies. The American President, Forrest Gump (1994), The Shawshank Redemption (1994), and so on; films that showed characters we could aspire to be or experience. People who love one another and embody an admirable ethic and morality. To see good people fight to do good and big things and triumph in the end. It’s been awhile, but I suspect some are coming. A biopic, an American story, or a piece of history - I bet it’s coming soon. *Funny enough, Senator Ted Cruz invoked a similar line when Trump bashed his wife and family, only to then retreat back as one of Trump’s greatest allies. BELOW: Gets me every time Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  80s Rohmer is my favorite Director: Eric Rohmer Writer: Eric Rohmer Cinematographer: Bernard Lutic Producer: Margaret Ménégoz by Jon Cvack I’ve really enjoyed Eric Rohmer’s 80s films thus far, with Pauline at the Beach being the first film I checked out from the series. Boyfriends and Girlfriends is a similarly simple movie, involving a cast of four characters - two girls, Blanche (Emmanuelle Chaulet) and Léa (Sophie Renoir) and two boys, Fabien (Eric Viellard) and Alexandre (François-Eric Gendron). Taking place over a period of a few years, the story’s divided into a series of random and significant moments, often taking place in a single location. Blanche is new to town, shy, and doesn’t know anyone, soon meeting the charming and beautiful Léa and the two become quick friends. Léa is dating the equally charming and handsome Alexandre, who soon develops an attraction to Blanche, who later develops an attraction to Alexandre, who keeps dating Léa, until she then dumps him, leading Alexandre and Blanche to hook up without telling her; all while the rich, initial douchebag Fabien tries to pursue both women, first ending up with Blanched and leaning more toward Léa, who he ends up with in the end. At only four characters, the plot never gets all that confusing. If I have anything wrong, it’s simply because I watched the film two weeks ago and the details have grown hazy. The film isn’t about the lies and deceit so much as four characters attempting to navigate their complicated love lives and passions and dealing with all of the ethics that come along with it. It’s about watching the players react, deceive, and struggle to tell those around them the truth. With such a fragmented structure, it allows each scene to build on the next, though never accelerating into melodrama. The academy frame punches up the geometric shapes often seen in the background - from offices to architecture, even the pier near the lake features sharp angles and shapes. The 80s garb reminds you how few period films today have caught its look. Erich Rohmer is one of the rare filmmakers who graduated perfectly into color; somehow maintaining his voice even if what’s in the frame looks so little like his older work. The guy can be a creep at times, and his movie might just make the Bechdel Test by an inch (even with two women central characters), but what it does explore feels honest and real, as though his style and insight continue to evolve. BELOW: A nice taste of the fashion Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
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