Eloge de L’Amour (In Praise of Love) (Jean-Luc Godard, 2001)

I guess I need to be more in the mood when watching this film because it’s real deep. There is no complex storyline yet the film is very dense. It’s about an author, Edgar, who is writing a project which deals with the four stages of love: union, passion, separation and reconciliation. The second part of the film (about an hour into it) is a flashback a few years earlier, exploring when and where he met the woman he is going to cast in his project, before (as well as an elderly couple, whose experience in the Holocaust is going to be the subject of a Spielberg film). 

 

I like how the first part of the film is in black and white, while the second in this bright, vibrant saturated colour, as well as plenty of long shots. Some of the scenes with a reddish ocean are so beautiful. The film continually repeats the titles “De quelque chose” and “De L’Amour”, as well as this classical, intermittent piano music (which although I really liked at the start, by the end of the film it was starting to bore me). Interestingly, I think the film both mourns and celebrates love (as “elegy” and “eulogy” as very similar) but also makes wider comments about society, particularly about the State, America (and how they use other people’s stories) and history (and peoples’ lack of knowledge about it). 

 

Some of the thought-provoking quotes include: (Edgar talking about his project) “We need the three ages, you see. Or else the project’s dead. It becomes a story with Julia Roberts. Hollywood. Not History. (Yes with a capital letter!)”, “Isn’t it strange how history has been replaced by technology?”, “Americans have no real past. They have no memory of their own. Their machines do, but they have none personally. So they buy the past of others. Especially those who resisted. Or they sell talking images. But an image never talks.” Although I think this is the newest Godard film I’ve seen, it’s actually very experimental and gives the impression of being one of his earlier works.

2.5/5

Tim Burton in Melbourne!

Tonight I had the fantastic opportunity to attend my favourite director, Tim Burton's Castaway session at ACMI ahead of the opening of his exhibition on Thursday.

He revealed the top five films he would take on a desert island, which were an interesting mix of horror, monsters and... well, they weren't exactly Oscar-winning films!

But I'm not surprised with his choices, as you can see how his eclectic selection has had an impact on his own personal style and appreciation of films.

Can't wait to see the exhibition!

Being John Malkovich (Spike Jonze, 1999)

Well, what a strange film. (So of course, I’m going to like it!) But just really bizarre. An amusing John Cusack with long hair plays puppeteer Craig Schwartz, who discovers a portal to John Malkovich’s mind and then along with workmate Maxine (who he falls in love with), exploits it by charging people to enter it. His wife, Lotte (played by Cameron Diaz), enters the portal and falls in love with Maxine, who in turn falls for John Malkovich. An intertwining love triangle ensues as well as just some plain weird plot twists and definitely an unpredictable storyline. Craig eventually discovers how to control Malkovich’s mind and turns him into a successful puppeteer. Meanwhile, Lotte discovers that Craig’s boss has been living through this portal all his life.

The film ends with Craig leaving the portal under pressure from his boss, (who had kidnapped Maxine). A pregnant Maxine ends up giving birth to a child (which was conceived while Lotte was John Malkovich) and we finish by seeing Lotte, Maxine and their daughter, with the voice of Craig inside her. Clearly, the film has plenty of material for philosophical discussion but what had me thinking while watching was how it would’ve been pitched to studios. First, you have this really imaginative idea − is it a comedy or drama, well, to me it’s a dark comedy drama but there is no real category that suits it perfectly. Then there is the strange sensation of seeing an actor star as himself, as well as a fictional person with someone inside him. Not surprisingly, Being John Malkovich has endured as a cult film and I definitely recommend it − a real original piece of work.

4/5

À Bout de Souffle (Breathless) (Jean-Luc Godard, 1960)

Being one of Godard’s first films, and one of the most highly touted, it was no surprise that I was expecting this movie to blow my mind. Unfortunately, it didn’t have that effect on me. I still enjoyed it but well, I suppose it just didn’t display that trademark Godardian style that became so established as his career progressed. But when I think about it, this was one of his first films so I suppose he still didn’t have such a reputation and this film was more paving the way for the French New Wave of filmmaking rather than for Godard’s unique style. (Also, the film was black and white, so no chance of seeing those beautiful vibrant Godard colours, for one). Actually, I found that this film, maybe because it was so early in his career but it seemed an almost typical Hollywood narrative, with perhaps influences of Italian neorealism (especially in the camerawork). 

 

It is about Michael Poiccard (played by Jean-Paul Belmondo, apparently based on the film persona of Humphrey Boggart − who features in a poster in the film), who after stealing a car and then shoots a policeman. Pretty much the rest of the film centres on how he avoids the police and how he wants to go to Rome with his American journalist (yay!) girlfriend Patricia (who reveals she is pregnant with his baby), who helps him hide, although betrays him at the end. The film ends with Michel staying and getting shot by the police, walking a little bit to the end of the street and finally dying, not before saying something along the lines of “That’s really disgusting” (apparently the direct translation is disputed). Patricia doesn’t hear and asks the policeman what he said, to which the policeman replies “He said you are really disgusting”. Thus, it is kind of mysterious as we don’t know whether Michel is referring to Patricia or society in general. On the note of Patricia, I have to say that her American accent really impeded her French pronunciation − now I can understand why French people would feel a bit weird about foreigners trying to speak their language.

 

I found the camerawork probably the highlight of the film, as for some reason I couldn’t warm to Belmondo’s character (or Patricia’s really), maybe because he was always trying to seduce her and she was kind of I don’t know, not particularly an active character. Anyway, there were a lot of long takes, from interesting angles too, such as the back of Patricia when she is in the car with Michel, as well as long takes when the camera is looking at her. In addition, there were some nice aerial, or crane shots (I’m not sure), taken from above, showing the beautiful Paris. So in this way, I really liked looking at the French environment in such a fun, interesting, appealing decade (60s).

I found this interesting list of references to Breathless in other Godard films. Godard's own Pierrot le fou (also starring Belmondo) repeats phrases including “We are all dead men on leave” and “Allons-y, Alonso”. A Woman Is a Woman, also co-starring Belmondo, includes a reference to Breathless, when Belmondo's character says he needs to get home because Breathless is being shown on TV.

3.5/5

La Strada (Federico Fellini, 1954)

Well, the first Fellini film I’ve seen and I can already feel a connection with his work. I wasn’t sure if this was classified as a neorealist film (apparently not on the DVD cover − “Fellini left behind the familiar signposts of neorealism for a poetic fable of love and cruelty”). But I think it does have elements of neorealism, which I’ll explore later on. Though as soon as the credits begin, you get a sense that this is different, more modern − as if after the break of neorealism into a new type of cinema (like Gilles Deleuze’s idea of the time-image?). It is almost like Hollywood feeling but without the colour − there is music and stylish titles (though still non-synchronous sound). Nevertheless, as the film progressed, I felt elements of Italian neorealism poke their head out, as if a director such as Fellini can completely change his style and ignore previous neorealism elements. 

 

The whole film includes a lot of fades, to highlight the fact that time has passed. From the beginning, we see some long shots but largely there are cuts and actually melodrama when brutal strongman Zampano comes to buy Gelsomina. He employs her and although the conditions are better than the poverty she lived in (she has more to eat, for one), she faces horrible treatment from the cruel Zampano. She tries to run away once but he finds her and she ultimately obeys him and returns to the their motorbike-home. However, a strange connection takes place and she begins to grow fond of him, to the point where she sort of jokingly asks if he would ever consider marrying her. They join a circus, where we encounter one of Zampano’s old rivals, Fool a tightrope artist (we actually see him earlier when he is performing in the town). Fool is, what can I say, a bright spark of happiness that immediately endears the audience (and Gelsomina) to him though there is plenty of tension between him and Zampano, not helped by the fact that the Fool teases him every moment he gets. But the Fool gives Gelsomina hope and inspiration and even has an almost serious meaningful philosophical discussion with her (almost because it just seems so strange coming from this joking individual) and there is always that underlying humour present. He is so direct, sometimes it’s hard to tell whether he is joking or not, such as when he tells Gelsomina she has a purpose in life: “You have a purpose too, with that artichoke head of yours”. He doesn’t smile but from his manner we see he means the best for her and as he is a naïve yet optimistic person, it is sad to see him suddenly go (Zampano later kills him “accidentally” after encountering and then punching him). 

 

This moment also marks an important change in Gelsomina, who from then is clearly scarred by seeing the murder, it is as if some hope and life is taken away from her and Zampano kills her spirit. I think he realises this too and gradually we see his guilt begin to emerge in patterns of anger then sudden remorse and even almost a more tender side (as tender as the rough, violent man can get). The death of the Fool makes him seem to get so close to opening up his feelings, before self-realisation kicks in and then ultimately anger at Gelsomina for causing this change. He almost becomes afraid of her in a way as this cycle of guilt and anger continues. “The fool is hurt”, each time Gelsomina utters these words it’s like an alarm to instigate his guilt, as he then asks if she wants to be taken home, to which she replies, “If I don’t go with you, who will?” (Something the Fool told her). Zampano is a complex character − at the start it just seems like he fits the “bad guy” label for this film yet we see his layers throughout the film and deep down we see that he did in fact like Gelsomina. When she asks him if he likes her even a little bit, he replies along the lines of “stop this nonsense, potato head”, immediately severing any sensitivity or emotional ties he could develop. In particular, the scene when he puts the blanket over Gelsomina sleeping outside (a moment of “awww”) before we see he is in fact leaving. But he leaves some money and the trumpet and it is as if he has come to the realisation that he is in fact destroying her spirit. 

 

She is such a childlike and innocent, naïve character. So fragile that, as Martin Scorsese says in the commentary that comes with the film, we don’t really know how much of the “adults” she understands. Then we see, what turns out to be later on, Zampano discovering from a townsperson (who he hears singing Gelsomina’s song) that she has died from a fever and goes gets drunk before we see him go to the beach and collapse on the sand and cry in the final shot of the film. He looks up at the stars (which were mentioned earlier) and the audience understands that he has well and truly come to the understanding that he needed her spirit in his life. As Scorsese also said, his “violence stamped out love” and any possibility he had of expressing emotions. It is like the tragic death of a clown, when happiness itself dies too. 

 

This brings me to Gelsomina herself, played by Federico Fellini’s wife, Giulietta Mansina − such an intriguing character. Her face just draws me immediately. Her expressions are so theatrical and expressive (she gives the impression of inexperience and naivety), she reminds me of Charlie Chaplin. Her big eyes and funny smile make her the perfect physical embodiment of innocent, natural, humour. In the commentary (one of many special features with the DVD), Scorsese points out that the film has a St Franciscan element of neorealism with its compassion for every living being, good or bad. As in the end, the audience does really feel for Zampano. I naddition, he says that the fact Zampano literally “bought” Gelsomina (for 10,000 lire) is also a feature of the harsh, reality of the post-war time − another feature of neorealism. He also points out an interesting idea that the road, which is almost synonymous with the life of travelling artists, is a metaphor of life, with its ups (the Fool) and downs (Zampano). The poor Fool is exactly that − a poor fool whose death is inevitable yet still so tragic. Scorsese relates his character to Robin Williams and says he wanted to include a character like the Fool in his films, such as in some of the films featuring Robert de Niro. A sweet film that seemed to have a mix of so many things, seemingly so simple yet really complex characters − there is more to Gelsomina’s smile than we first think.

4/5

Vicky Christina Barcelona (Woody Allen, 2008)

A very entertaining film that was so free and open yet engaging. I’m just baffled by how the film was able to be so charming and appealing without a real strong storyline − there weren’t really any major events that took place. It revolved around two girls, Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and Christina (Scarlett Johansson), who become entwined in feelings for a womanising free-spirited painter Juan Antonio (played by a fantastic Javier Bardem). Things get a little complicated and “strange” when his ex-wife, Maria Elena (Penélope Cruz) returns and we see that Juan Antonio never really broke up with her − a complicated, tense yet passionate relationship ensues. I was going to write that this film is a lot about feelings but that’s not really accurate because when I look back and think about it, a lot of those emotions weren’t really shown. For a film about relationships, there wasn’t a lot of scenes about those actual relationships but more about the thoughts and effects of them. What the film did focus on and why I think it worked so well, was the strength of the characters. As I mentioned before, this film starred a terrific Javier Bardem (who I hadn’t seen since his amazing performance in Before Night Falls), is charming but at the same time is so mysterious and hard to work out really. And Penélope Cruz was just excellent − a feisty, energetic, amusing and stunning personality − she definitely stole the scenes. But it’s hard to write about this film. For almost two hours you are just there, with the characters experiencing what is sort of a fantasy life with no responsibilities or consequences, full of opportunities and beautiful Spanish surroundings.

4.5/5

Peggy Sue Got Married (Francis Ford Coppola, 1986)

Surprisingly, I liked this film. A little predictable (until the ending, that is) but still, itwas entertaining enough. I think it was the first film I’ve seen by Francis Ford Coppola and I liked it although I’m sure it’s in stark contrast with films of his such as The Godfather. At the start we see that Peggy Sue has an unsatisfying marriage to her highschool sweetheart, Charlie Bodell (a cool and suave Nicolas Cage), who she married after she fell pregnant at eighteen. She attends a highschool reunion, where she faints and is somehow taken back in time to relive her highschool years. Although an interesting twist, you’d expect her to change her ways to get a happily ever after, Peggy Sue makes much of the same choices although learns more about her husband in the process. At the end, she wakes up in hospital with a worried Charlie by her side and they pretty much rekindle their romance and you get the sense that perhaps they will steer away from divorce. So it’s quite a light, fluffy piece and featuring a great scene where Cage and Jim Carrey’s character and a few other guys, sing in a bar (as Charlie wants to be a singer) − very amusing stuff. 

Nicolas Cage sings in a few movies and he’s not too bad. But as for the film, it became more engaging near the end but overall was quite standard − a little surprising that it was nominated for three Oscars (including Best Actress).

3.5/5