I've Just Seen: La Grande Illusion (1937)

La Grande Illusion (1937)



Director: Jean Renoir

This film is one of the examples of poetic realism included in the 1001 Films book. While this movement is seen as being particularly French and dating from the 1930s and 40s, I was reminded of All Quiet on the Western Front, an American film from 1930. Poetic realism is often about characters facing death in some form or another, who are filled with bitterness and pain that costs them a chance at love. While All Quiet doesn't have the love story in its film, the bitterness and sadness of the characters is there, as is the painful beauty of certain moments between people that can't quite overcome the situation.

I felt the two films were comparable partly because of their context; the First World War. In Renoir's film, we follow two men as they move from prisoner of war camp to prisoner of war camp, as their attempted escapes are thwarted. The film doesn't move the way you think. The characters do things that bring about no real resolution; in the first camp they begin building an escape tunnel, but are moved on before they use it. They try to tell the new prisoners, but they (and we) never know if it was used.

Renoir clearly inherited his father's artist genes; the shots are subtly but beautifully composed, with unintrusive editing, which adds to the sadness of the tone, as though the camera itself lingers of the events with a sigh of pain. The acting is very good from everyone, and I was interested to see Erich von Stroheim as the sympathetic German von Rauffenstein, who befriends the equally refined Captain de Boeldieu (Pierre Fresnay). Class and nationality are interminged throughout the film, as Jean Gabin's more working-class Marechal and de Boeldieu never become friends, though they spend much of the film together.

As my first taste of poetic realism, I thought Renoir's La Grande Illusion was a quiet and beautiful film about war's effect on man's sense of society. Whether the illusion referred to in the title is the idea of human connection, happiness, war or 'civilised' society itself will require another viewing by me.

I've Just Seen: Dallas Buyers Club (2013)

Dallas Buyers Club (2013)



Director: Jean-Marc Vallee

2013 was a very good year for film. Looking at my list of films seen from that year, we have Before Midnight, Captain Phillips, Blue is the Warmest Colour, The Past, The Lunchbox, Frances Ha, Frozen, 12 Years a Slave, Her, Nebraska, Upstream Colour, Enough Said, Under the Skin, and bunch o' others. I would add Dallas Buyers Club to that list of very good films from that year that should be seen. 

The acting is strong from all the cast; clearly McConaughey and Leto are the most eye-catching, with their physical transformations, but the true strength of their performances comes from the characters underneath the surface. McConaughey's Ron Woodroof does what he does for both mercenary and altruistic reasons, which brings him into contact with people he would never have chosen to associate. You believe this is a sick man, as McConaughey's face also verges on the skeletal. Leto also looks worse for wear, as Rayon struggles to get clean. This is unusual as sick people in films are usually denoted by coughs or sniffles, but still look good, sometimes even on their death-bed.

I knew little about this story before the film came out, and I think it captures the response to the AIDS crisis well. I was not alive until the 90s, and there was not aware of what had happened in recent history. The medical community are the bad guys in this film, which felt a touch exaggerated, but the need for these clubs clearly sprung out of a void of proper care. The cinematography adds a documentary feel to the story, appropriate for a 'based on a true story.'

A film to see for its acting and the very powerful story it has to tell.

I've Just Seen: 8 1/2 (1963)

8 1/2 (1963)



Director: Federico Fellini

I can imagine that a lot of people believe  European 'classics' of film history to be dry pieces of drama, trudges through tormented souls, filled with almost impenetrable symbolism and dourness. Why do I think this? Because I once believed this too, back when my film diet was devoid of the likes of Bergman, Kurosawa, Ozu, Kieslowski, and Fellini. Of the last of these, Fellini has a lot of comedy in his films, with his wry but sympathetic portraits of ennui. 8 1/2's Guido is a director who appears to be suffering 'writer's block' which has prompted a whole life crisis, particularly regarding his relationships with women.

The film is rather episodic, and there is little differentiation between Guido's inner and outer worlds, making the whole film a subjective experience. Guido's own mind seems to be chastising himself for his treatment of women. There is a very funny scene, which we assume is inside Guido's head, where all the women he has ever known meet in the bathing room of a villa and discuss their experience of Guido with each other (and in front of him). What starts out as general affection becomes critique, as a show girl speaks of how Guido treated her with dismissiveness.

This scene is expanded upon in the film's climax with a huge gathering of people who dance around with Guido with joy and smiles, including several dead friends and relatives. Again, the reality of this scene is dubious, and reminded me of Malick's Tree of Life, where the family are all reunited on the beach in Heaven.

The black and white cinematography is beautiful; we are in a shadowy part of Guido's life and mind, as he tries to figure out what to do with his life. The acting is good, though as was typical in the 60s, the actors have dubbed their voices, creating a disconnect between the image and the sound. This works for this story of disconnect and alienation.

I have liked Fellini so far, as he manages to draw comedy out of situations of self-investigation. This reminded me of some of Chaucer's lesser known poems, where protagonist's dreams take them on a journey into their psyches, presented with humour. Definitely a film I shall revisit.

I've Just Seen: Delicatessen (1991)

Delicatessen (1991)



Directors: Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet

Caro and Jeunet's film has elements that would be familiar to anyone who has seen Amelie (which is a lot of people). If that was too sweet for you, then Delicatessen, with its boarding house of cannibalistic tenants, might be right up your street. While most of the tenants eat human flesh out of desperation - some kind of disaster has occurred in France, leaving food scarce - the butcher who owns the building seems to get actual pleasure out of killing. The opening scene sets this up beautifully, as one tenant attempts to escape from the building without the butcher seeing him. It is both funny and terrifying.


As is typical of Jeunet's films, every character has a particular quirk or occupation that distinguishes them. One woman in the building is constantly coming up with elaborate suicide scenarios (which always fail); our protagonist Loulson, a circus performer, is constantly practicing his tricks; and Julie, who hates wearing her glasses in front of people, so plans her movements in an attempt to forestall collisions (which doesn't work).


The film is understandably dark in its humour, with Loulson's every encounter with the tenants underpinned by the knowledge that he is 'fresh meat.' There is a brilliantly funny scene when everyone in the house ends up in rhythm together, as the butcher and a tenant have sex (on squeaky bed springs), Julie plays her cello, an old woman knits, Loulson paints the ceiling, and so. All this climaxes together (in more ways than one). It reminded me of the Amelie scene about the number of couples who were all climaxing at that point (answer 15!).

Delicatessen's narrative climax is rather epic, involving bloodthirsty killers, vegetarian rebels, and a lot of water. The whole film is infused with magical whimsy, which creates a good tension with the subject matter. Good fun. 

I've Just Seen: Ali: Fear Eats the Soul (1974)

Angst essen Seele auf (Ali: Fear Eats the Soul) (1974)



Director: Rainer Werner Fassbinder

Fassbinder is one of those male directors who makes interesting films about women. He makes grungier versions of Sirkian melodramas, and Ali works as a riff on Sirk's All That Heaven Allows. For me, this is the second in an unofficical trilogy of Sirk's film, Fassbinder's film, and Todd Haynes' Far From Heaven. All three are about a middle-aged woman re-exerting herself as a sexual being, and finding love with a socially unaccepted partner. Fassbinder adds race onto the class and age divide that Sirk had in his film, as Ali is younger, even poorer than Emmi, and a 'guest worker' in Germany from Morocco.

The copy I watched had been beautifully transferred onto DVD; the colours were vibrant, and the quality of the image was sharp. This was a contrast to the copy of Maria Braun I saw, which was not as sharp, despite being projected on a big screen. Fassbinder has a wonderful eye for framing and staging; the scenes at Emmi's work, where her group of 'friends' isolate one another during lunch were painful, putting you right in the situation of these judgemental people. 

Fassbinder approaches the ideas of gender, class and race with an even-handedness. Emmi is no saint as she befriends and loves Ali; she sometimes treats him as a object to be admired, while also being tender and loving towards him. Ali finds his new role as her husband uncomfortable, and he at times yearns for his old life with his friends.

We are privy to many conversations between Ali and Emmi, allowing us to see their affection and sympathy for each other. They offer each other something they lack, though Ali's friends seem to wonder what Emmi provides (her age and appearance clearly baffle them).

I found Ali: Fear Eats the Soul a moving film about a complex situation. The characters feel like real people, with all their contradictions and failings as well as their capacity for kindness and love. All this is captured beautifully by Fassbinder and cinematographer Jurgen Jurges. Its reputation as a must-see film is well deserved.

I've Just Seen: Une Partie de Campagne (1936)

Une Partie de Campagne (A Day in the Country) (1936)



Director: Jean Renoir

Renoir's short film feels like a novella, or a short story that encompasses the viewpoints of several characters about an afternoon in the country, whose effects ripple throughout the years. The film was not finished by its director, but what survives is a charming slice of romance and nostalgia, both in the story and for the time period.

The film follows two groups, one a party of Parisians out for a day, and two young men from the country. The two young men are attracted to the beautiful Henriette, and their instant attraction is one of the most lovely introductions in all cinema. It is not the first time we see Henriette, but we are thrust into the perpective of these two amorous young men.

There is mild comedy from the party, as the two parents jokingly squabbly and flirt with each other, the deaf grandmother mishears things, and Henriette's intended muddles around. There is a slightly twist to the film, which I shall not spoil, but it also helps mark the change in the tone of the film. The shots of nature, including a lovely floating shot of rain falling on the stream, add to the nostalgia of the piece.

A charming film that makes me wish Renoir had been able to complete himself.

I've Just Seen: Jamon Jamon (1992)

Jamon Jamon (1992)



Director: Bigas Luna

I don't really know what to say about Jamon Jamon. I really enjoy watching Penelope Cruz, she is a very good actress who chooses interesting roles. This was her film debut, and perhaps the best thing I can say is that it shows how natural she was in front of the camera from an early stage (it clearly loves her).

I think some parts of this film got lost in translation; not literally, but it is a comedy and satire about Spanish society at a particular time, and I am guessing that a lost of it went over my head. The performances are good, but the characters are not terribly deep, and were people I didn't really want to spend too much time with. They treat each other terribly, with Cruz's Silvia being lusted over by three men who exploit her.

It is a very physical film, with the word lusty barely covering the way characters approach life. Sex and food (particularly the titular ham) are equated, as the men and women consume each other as they consume food (though not at the same time). Some of the scenes are now tinged with voyeurism as Cruz and Javier Bardem, who are now married in real life, flirt and eventually have very public sex.

This was not a bad film, just one I didn't enjoy watching. Though not as explicit as Cuaron's Y tu Mama Tambien, another film that seeks to capture the intersection of a country's history and present (Mexico), it doesn't have the melancholy and even joy that underpins most the sex scenes in Cuaron's film. It also lacks the sympathy of Almodovar's films, which tempers the outrageous lives of his characters.