Chicago Reader review: After a hiatus of nearly a decade, the brilliant Argentine filmmaker Lucrecia Martel (The Holy Girl, The Headless Woman)
returns with an entrancing 17th-century period drama. The title
character, a magistrate in rural Argentina, longs to return to his
native Spain so he can be reunited with his wife and children; waiting
on his deliverance, he idles away his time with native women and petty
political squabbles until he’s sent into the jungle on a suicide mission
to capture a violent bandit. As always with Martel, the story is opaque
but the atmosphere is rich and immersive, with meticulously designed
frames that balance one’s attention between the principal characters and
marginalized individuals (in this case women, slaves, and Native
Americans). The soundtrack is also characteristically vibrant, as Martel
conjures up a vivid world beyond the frame. Ben Sachs
BFI introduction: A migrant family and their dog cross the drought-stricken arid Sertão
region in a desperate bid to survive. Pereira dos Santos adapts
Graciliano Ramos’ acclaimed 1938 novel, one of Brazil’s key literary
works, employing stark landscapes and non-professional performances to
stunning effect. It is regarded as a foundational Cinema Novo work – a
devastating yet deeply humane portrait of poverty, endurance and
cyclical displacement.
This 35mm screening is part of the 'Projecting the Archive' strand at BFI Southbank. There will be an introduction by Jason Morell, actor and son of Joan Greenwood.
BFI introduction: When a young dancer has her career cut short by illness, she marries an
eminent sculptor whose cruelty drives her into the arms of another man.
This early role for Joan Greenwood sees her perfectly cast as the
fragile ballerina trapped in an abusive relationship. Sewell’s
atmospheric evocation of the fin de siècle decadence of bohemian Paris
is enhanced by the camerawork of silent horror veteran Günther Krampf.
Based on a French play, which the director adapted four times across his
career, this macabre tale exploring jealousy and spiritualism serves up
a shocking final twist.
Chicago Reader review: Howard Hawks's grand, brassy 1953 musical about two girls from Little
Rock—Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell—gone gold digging in Paris. The
male sex is represented by a bespectacled nerd (Tommy Noonan), a dirty
old man (Charles Coburn), and a 12-year-old voyeur (the unforgettable
George "Foghorn" Winslow), all of whom deserve what they get. The
opening shot—Russell and Monroe in sequins standing against a screaming
red drape—is enough to knock you out of your seat, and the audacity
barely lets up from there, as Russell romances the entire U.S. Olympic
team to the tune of "Ain't There Anyone Here for Love?" and Hawks keeps
topping perversity with perversity. A landmark encounter in the battle
of the sexes. Dave Kehr
Chicago Reader review: The mood of Kenji Mizoguchi’s 1953 masterpiece is evoked by the English
translation most often given to its title, “Tales of the Pale and
Silvery Moon After the Rain.” Based on two 16th-century ghost stories,
the film is less a study of the supernatural than a sublime embodiment
of Mizoguchi’s eternal theme, the generosity of women and the
selfishness of men. Densely plotted but as emotionally subtle as its
name, Ugetsu is one of the great experiences of cinema. Dave Kehr
This film, which also screens on June 1st and 26th, is in the Big Screen Classics strand at BFI Southbank. Full details here.
Chicago Reader review: George Roy Hill’s 1969 film moves with steady, stupid grace from oozy
sentimentality to nihilistic violence; you have to admire the craft and
assurance of the thing even as its artificiality hits you in the face.
Paul Newman and Robert Redford are the romantic couple of the title;
Katharine Ross is the interloper. With Strother Martin, Jeff Corey,
Cloris Leachman, and Henry Jones. Dave Kehr
Time Out review: Rarely has a film’s content been as overshadowed by its context as
1961’s ‘The Misfits’, re-released this week as part of a Marilyn Monroe
retrospective at BFI Southbank. Director John Huston drank his
way through the production, falling asleep repeatedly during filming. As
her marriage to screenwriter Arthur Miller collapsed, leading lady
Monroe checked herself into rehab: her recovery was so rocky that all
subsequent close-ups had to be taken in soft focus. Two days after the
film wrapped, star Clark Gable died of a heart attack. Monroe would
follow 18 months later, having loathed the film and her performance in
it. Third lead Montgomery Clift survived for five more drink-fuelled
years: his final words, to a friend who asked him if he felt like
catching a late-night TV showing of ‘The Misfits’, were ‘absolutely
not! 'The tale of a down-on-her-luck divorcée (Monroe) who
shacks up with a grizzled-but-lovable Nevada cowboy (Gable) and his
rodeo-riding pal (Clift), ‘The Misfits’ is a problematic but provocative
piece of work. Miller’s dialogue is as theatrically fruity as it gets –
‘You’re three dear, sweet, dead men!’ – while his overall treatment of
Monroe’s character – dim, dizzy, innocent but oh-so-lively – feels
patronising. But there are powerful moments too: Eli Wallach’s
performance as Gable’s widowed buddy is pin-sharp, his transformation
from pitiable sidekick to soulless creep the most convincing thing in
the film. And the climax is simply magnificent, as matters come to a
head out at a remote salt flat and Monroe finally gives vent to her
frustrations with the entire male gender. Tom Huddleston
BFI introduction for UK premiere of digital restoration: When a US plane is shot down in occupied France, its pilot finds
shelter in a convent. He encounters a young novice who agrees to help
him escape the country, to save him and his secret cache of documents
from the Nazis. The night casts a veil of intimacy over the couple, who
develop a bond beyond physical love. Full of suspense and
expressionistic chiaroscuro, this transcendental drama remains striking
for its mix of thrill, torment and wonder. Restored in 4K by Universal Pictures and The Film Foundation at
NBCUniversal StudioPost laboratory, from the original 35mm negative
nitrate, a 35mm composite fine grain and the 35mm optical sound track
negative nitrate. Special thanks to Martin Scorsese and Steven
Spielberg.
Time Out review: Frank Borzage's admirers - and who'll not claim at least associate membership
of that circle? - will find this movie to be in a familiar case. The
writing suggests melodrama at its most mechanical and life cheapening,
yet the director infuses individual scenes with such warmth and
spontaneity as to ensure that the affections are celebrated even as
they're being betrayed. This time the love affair is explicitly
non-sexual, since the plot is to do with shot down flyer Ray Milland and
virginal nun Britton pretending to be husband and wife while on the run
in occupied France - a situation requiring fancy footwork from all
concerned to keep the censors at bay. It's salutary to watch the usually
tight-lipped Milland transformed into a model Borzage hero,
enthusiastic and brimming with tenderness.
The
Prince Charles are showing this classic movie from 70mm in a season
that continues throughout May and the beginning of June. You can find the full details here.
Chicago Reader review: David
Lean's 1962 spectacle about T.E. Lawrence's military career between
1916 and '18, written by Robert Bolt and produced by Sam Spiegel,
remains one of the most intelligent, handsome, and influential of all
war epics. Combining the scenic splendor of De Mille with virtues of the
English theater, Lean endeared himself to English professors and action
buffs alike. The film won seven Oscars, including best picture and
direction, yet the ideological crassness of De Mille and most war movies
isn't so much transcended as given a high gloss: the film's subject is
basically the White Man's Burden—despite ironic notations—with Alec
Guinness, Anthony Quinn, and Omar Sharif called upon to represent the
Arab soul, and Jose Ferrer embodying the savage Turks. The all-male cast
helps make this one of the most homoerotic of all screen epics, though
the characters' sexual experiences are at best only hinted at. Jonathan Rosenabum
'This is the LAST screening from the people behind THE MACHINE THAT KILLS BAD PEOPLE!* After eight
years, the series is coming to a close with the launch of a book
containing all the essays specially commissioned for each screening. As
always, two towering films. But at this final event, the film club will
reveal the secret rule that has governed their programming all along.'
*(The Machine That Kills Bad People is held bi-monthly in the ICA Cinema
and is programmed by Erika Balsom, Beatrice Gibson, María Palacios Cruz,
and Ben Rivers.)
Time Out review: Flora Tristan was a 19th century utopian socialist feminist, notorious
in her day, now largely forgotten. A young historian (Rebecca Pauly) leaves
husband and child to seek traces of Tristan in contemporary Lyons.
Disillusioned with the records-and-monuments methods of historians, she
roams the streets recording sounds Tristan may have heard. A film about
the impossibility of knowing the past; the camera looks and looks but
only yields implacably closed images. Sound's the thing, and in the
final, long-held shot of the woman ecstatically playing her violin, the
film's complex and compelling themes come together. Jonathan Rosenbaum
Chicago Reader review: As
close to a classic as anything New Hollywood produced, Alan Pakula's
1971 film tells of a small-town detective who comes to New York in
search of a friend's killer. The trail leads to a tough-minded hooker
who can't understand the cop's determination. Donald Sutherland works
small and subtly, balancing Jane Fonda's flashy virtuoso technique. Dave Kehr
Time Out review: Bobby is a struggling black actor. The few roles offered by white movie
writers and producers reek of artifice: punks, pimps, sassy soul
brothers and Eddie Murphy clones. What's a man to do? Townsend's satire
may be gentle, but more often than not it's spot on. As Bobby (Townsend)
escapes the sad reality of racial stereotyping through daydreams that
expose the absurdity of whites telling blacks how to be Black, we're
treated to visions of a Black Acting School (learn how to play a
yodelling butler Stepin Fetchit-style), a truly noir TV-noir (Sam Ace in Death of a Breakdancer),
and best of all, a Bros' version of a Bazza Norman-type movie round-up.
Despite the film's conspicuously minuscule budget and shaky narrative
structure, it is funny. If you value enthusiasm and imagination more
than glossy sophistication, you'll laugh. Geoff Andrew
Robert Altman made a number of groundbreaking films in the 1970s (MASH,
The Long Goodbye, Nashville and McCabe and Mrs Miller). This one has
slipped through the net but is no less innovative and is a must-see for
anyone interested in the director's work.
Elliott Gould (slumbering through the decade in his inimitable style)
and George Segal are excellent in the lead roles. It's funny and
poignant and undoubtedly the best film I've seen on the subject of
gambling as the pair take the well-worn road from casino to racetrack to
card hall, ending up in Reno.
Chicago Reader review: Robert Altman's masterful 1974 study of the psychology of the
compulsive gambler. Elliott Gould, loose, jocular, and playful, and
George Segal, neurotic, driven, and desperate, are really two halves of
the same personality as they move from bet to bet, game to game, until
they arrive for the big showdown in Reno. As in all Altman films,
winning is losing; and the more Altman reveals, in his oblique,
seemingly casual yet brilliantly controlled way, the more we realize
that to love characters the way Altman loves his, you have to see them
turned completely inside out. Don Druker
This is part of the excellent Rio Forever season at the Rio Cinema.
Time Out review: Thirty-year-old New Yorker Desiree Akhavan writes, directs and stars in
this indie feature. She plays Shirin, an Iranian-American hipster trying
to recover from a break-up with her girlfriend. There are shades of
‘Girls’ here (Akhavan and Lena Dunham are buddies in real life, and the
rising star appears in the new season). But ‘Appropriate Behaviour’
isn’t all knowing LOLs; there’s a satisfying depth and heart here that’s
more in line with ‘Annie Hall’. In flashbacks we watch Shirin’s
relationship with her ex sputter into life and run a wobbly course to
its ignominious end (‘You’re ruining my birthday! You’re ruining my
twenties!’). Shirin’s awkwardness may be fashionable, but it’s not
affected – she’s genuinely scared to confess her bisexuality to her
conservative Iranian parents, and doesn’t remotely fit in at her family
circle’s Persian parties, any more than she suits the supposedly
confidence-boosting bustier she’s coaxed into wearing at a fancy
lingerie store. For all the brazen charms of this warm and funny
debut, though, its quieter moments signal a profundity that’s really
worth getting excited about. Sophie Harris
This is part of the Jewish Culture Month season at Curzon cinemas. Details here.
Time Out review: Josh and Benny Safdie, the indie filmmaking brothers whose New York
City movies shudder with attitude, tell fast and grubby stories that
harken back to the 1970s, when Sidney Lumet ruled sets. Their vigor is
an instant rush: why creep a camera down a hallway when you can fling it
behind equally unhinged characters? In ‘Heaven Knows What’, the Safdies turned uptown heroin junkies into wild, unkempt angels. Then, in ‘Good
Time’, they gave Robert Pattinson all the confusion he could handle as a
Pacino-like Queens hustler out of his depth. There’s no nostalgia to
these films, no cuteness, only the mania of urban survival, improvised
on the fly with a side of trash talk. ‘Uncut Gems’, the Safdies’ electrifying and abrasive latest
drama, flirts with becoming a headache. (For some, it will feel like
more than flirting.) But the film gets closer than the brothers ever
have to developing a genuine affection for their various schemers, and
that makes all the difference. Tenaciously, it follows a week in the
2012 life of a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants Diamond District dealer,
Howard Ratner (Adam Sandler, channeling his obnoxiousness into something
magically right, even moving). You may be overwhelmed by the Safdies’s
spiky sound design – filled with yelling, sports betting, the jewelry
shop’s constantly buzzing security door and an overcaffeinated,
Tangerine Dream–like synth score – but Howard thrives in this chaos.
It’s his normal. Beyond his bling salesmanship, Howard dreams of a big score, which
arrives by messenger from Ethiopia: a gleaming chunk of opal-encrusted
rock which he hopes to auction off for a fortune. (It’s ‘real old-school
Middle-earth shit’, he tells the hypnotized NBA star Kevin Garnett,
playing himself with self-deprecating charm.) The various whereabouts of
this stone will become a plot spine for ‘Uncut Gems’, but
that’s just an excuse to ping-pong Howard between a kaleidoscopic
cross-section of sharply etched neurotics: pawnshop kibitzers, menacing
debt collectors (led by a spookily intense Eric Bogosian), a
semi-estranged wife (Idina Menzel, seeping fury from every pore) and a
brassy mistress, also his shop’s counter clerk, who may be falling in
love with him (Julia Fox, making a stellar debut). Gamblers at heart, the Safdies have a palpable love of gamesmanship,
of arguments pushed to the brink, verbal beatdowns and courtside
chatter. (Gifted cinematographer Darius Khondji, a master of
reflections, gives ‘Uncut Gems’a sheen that
visually counterbalances.) Something else is going on here, too: a
lovably pronounced American Jewishness in terms of tone and touchstones,
from Billy Joel’s showbizzy ‘The Stranger’, heard during a car ride
back to Long Island, to a family’s Passover seder rife with marital
tensions and kids running around searching for theafikomen.
This was the environment in which the Safdies grew up; their film isn’t
merely an outstanding portrait of a charming fate-tempter who goes a
bit too far, but a kind of autobiography (as was their 2009
breakthrough, ‘Daddy Longlegs’). It’s made with so much
love, care and enthusiasm – plus no small amount of risk – you thrill to
think that they’re just getting started. Joshua Rothkopf
This 35mm screening, introduced by Professor Melanie Williams, is part of the excellent British Post-War Cinema season at BFI. Details here. The film is also being shown on May 14th.
BFI introduction: This neorealist-influenced story of three women, who are released from
jail and into the cold indifference of London, is vividly captured by
Geoffrey Unsworth’s stunning cinematography. This film alone attests to
Lee’s underrated place in cinema, showcasing his sensitive, occasionally
sensual approach, continental flair and remarkably assured pacing.
This is the UK premiere of the 4K restoration of the film.
BFI introduction: The corpses of the opponents of a tyrannical regime fill the streets
of Milan – left unburied by the repressive state as a warning to the
population. Amid indifference, a modern-day Antigone finds help from an
enigmatic stranger to bury her brother. Filmed in the revolutionary
climate of post-’68 Milan by a filmmaker who made a profound mark on the
history of cinema, this tale of resistance against totalitarianism
revisits Greek dramatist Sophocles, resulting in a chillingly relevant
and provocative work.
Time Out review: Made directly after Galileo, whose strengths director Liliana Cavani enlarges and
develops, this also postulates a primacy of human and emotional response
over the nihilism of The Night Porter (made four years later). In this modern day reworking of Antigone,
Cavani's striking visual sense illuminates her subject sufficiently to
overcome doubts about some of the '60s conceits. Where she manages to
evoke her Fascist state as exceptionally normal, the film works
exceptionally well. Verna Glaesner
Time Out review: An adaptation of Emlyn Williams' potboiling play Someone Waiting, about a young man wrongly convicted of murder (Alec McCowen), and the last-minute hunt for the real killer by his dipsomaniac father (Michael Redgrave). This was the first time Losey had filmed under his own name since the trauma of the blacklist, and it shows in the overstatement: the persistent play with clocks, for instance, indicating not just that Redgrave is racing against a 24-hour deadline to uncover the truth, but that his alcoholism was a way of making time stand still by shutting out his responsibilities (to his son, to society). By shifting the emphasis from thriller to anti-capital punishment pleading, Losey also strains the structure almost to breaking point. An undeniably powerful film, all the same, superbly shot by Freddie Francis and conceived with a raw-edged brilliance, right from the brutal opening murder, that accommodates even the symbolism of a Goya bull, with the real killer (Leo McKern) finally cornered. Tom Milne
This is also screened at Close-Up Cinema on May 31st. Details here.
BFI introduction: Whilst renovating his dilapidated home, Aston (Robert Shaw) invites an irritable and devious vagrant (Donald Pleasance) to stay. But, when his ill-tempered brother Mick (Alan Bates) returns, an ominous yet darkly comic power struggle between the trio commences. A play that changed the face of modern theatre and made Harold Pinter's name, The Caretaker remains one of Pinter’s most famous works. Featuring original production cast members Pleasance and Bates and sensitively directed by Clive Donner and shot by Nicolas Roeg, this study of shared illusion, tragic dispossession and the fraternal bond of unspoken love, combines mesmerising performances and the magic of Pinter's dialogue into a spellbinding film.
This film is introduced by the ‘Pink Floyd on Film’ series curator Sophia Satchell-Baeza.
Chicago Reader review: 'Though Michelangelo Antonioni's only American film was very poorly received when it was released in 1969, time has been much kinder to it than to, say, La Notte, which was made a decade earlier. Antonioni's nonrealistic approach to American counterculture myths and his loose and slow approach to narrative may still put some people off—along with the uneven dialogue (credited to Fred Gardner, Sam Shepard, Tonino Guerra, Clare Peploe, and the director)—but his beautiful handling of 'Scope compositions and moods has many lingering aftereffects, and the grand and beautiful apocalyptic finale is downright spectacular. With Mark Frechette, Daria Halprin, and Rod Taylor.' Jonathan Rosenbaum
This is part of the Rio Forever season at the cinema and is a 35mm screening.
Chicago Reader review: The Wachowskis, who scripted Assassins, wrote and directed this
adroit and sexy 1996 crime thriller about the hot romance between a
gangster’s moll (Jennifer Tilly) and the ex-con who’s her neighbor (Gina
Gershon). Eventually they concoct an elaborate scam to rip off the
gangster (Joe Pantoliano)—a money launderer for the mob who temporarily
has a couple million dollars. (The laundering here involves literally
washing blood off bills.) This gets very suspenseful (as well as fairly
gruesome) in spots, and if it never adds up to anything profound, it’s
still a welcome change to have a lesbian couple as the chief
identification figures. Jonathan Rosenbaum
BFI introduction: Ozualdo
Candeias was a truck driver who loved movies and decided to make his
own. He did so in a very idiosyncratic style that didn’t care to conform
to anyone’s idea of cinema. His first feature, The Margin, often
suggests a São Paulo rereading of Mario Peixoto’s great avant-garde
classic Limite (1931). It’s a sort of love story set among a group of
desperate and abandoned characters. The
movie takes place around the banks of the Tietê river, which stands as a
promise and a limit for everyone’s lives. While Peixoto was in dialogue
with the European modern art he knew well, Candeias draws heavily from
the poverty around him. The movie has barely any dialogue, and the
filmmaker finds a lot of beauty in the middle of the harshness. Brazil’s
underdevelopment would remain Candeias’s great source of inspiration,
and from The Margin onwards, no other filmmaker did more to give
it representation.
