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
