Capital Celluloid 2023 — Day 242: Thu Aug 31

Wild Side (Cammell, 1995): ICA Cinema, 6.30pm

 
ICA introduction:
The perfect companion piece to Performance, Donald Cammell’s swan song is an edgy unpredictable pulp noir centred around crime, money, sex, power games and four outstanding acting performances. Bruno (Christopher Walken), the world’s most notorious money launderer, is being set up for a sting by undercover agent Tony (Steven Bauer) posing as his chauffeur. When Alex (Anne Heche), an international banker moonlighting as a call girl enters Bruno’s world, both Bruno and Tony see opportunity – as does Bruno’s estranged wife Virgina (Joan Chen). Masquerading as a crime thriller, Cammell’s final film shifts unpredictably between hard-bitten drama, sensuous lesbian love story and absurd black comedy to deliver an incendiary mix of mind games, sexual liaisons and ever-shifting loyalties as the four characters navigate an increasingly complex and irrelevant plot. The performances, particularly Walken’s as the nervy, eccentric Bruno are larger than life, and Heche, the emotional centre of the film, is outstanding as the intermittently tough, vulnerable, and uncertain Alex. On its UK release in June 2000, The Guardian’s Peter Bradshaw wrote, ‘an original and exhilarating thriller, capriciously intelligent, with experimentalism and verve…an arresting work from an important and distinctive director.’Re-edited against his wishes by its American producers Cammell removed his name from the project and shortly after committed suicide, but a posthumous ‘director’s cut’ adding more than twenty minutes of material and restoring Cammell’s original vision was produced by Tartan Films in the UK screening to enthusiastic reviews. Thought to be lost, two 35mm prints of this director’s cut were recently uncovered, and this screening – the first for more than two decades – is from one of these two surviving prints.

Observer review:
Like William Burroughs, British film-maker Donald Cammell was the scion of an immensely rich family (the Cammell Laird shipbuilders) who reacted violently against his respectable background. Both lived outrageously unconventional lives of drugs, orgies and diabolical dabbling, and produced extravagant, deliberately provocative works concerned, often mystically, with bisexuality and the perverted exercise of power. Unlike Burroughs, who killed his wife, Cammell killed himself, dying in Hollywood in 1996 at the age of 62. Cammell's first film, Performance , co-directed with Nicolas Roeg, is one of the most remarkable to emerge from a British studio and encapsulates the culture of Swinging London at its most seductively corrupt. He was forced by Warner Brothers to re-edit it drastically and he only completed three more pictures - the SF curiosity Demon Seed (Julie Christie impregnated by a computer), the mystic thriller White of the Eye (serial killer loose in the Arizona desert) and Wild Side, which was chopped up by its producers and sent straight to cable TV in 1995. It was the contemptuous treatment of this last film that proved the last straw, as it were, for Cammell, but he was still hoping to regain control of it when he shot himself. Now his editor and friend, Frank Mazzola, with the help of Channel 4 and Tartan Films, has restored the director's cut, and it is being shown under the somewhat tautologous title of Donald Cammell's Wild Side. It could as easily be called 'Christopher Walken on the Wild Side', for in that most volatile of American actors Cammell found a perfect exponent of his dangerous art. Walken plays an out-of-control financial crook, Bruno, the world's biggest money launderer, on whom the federal authorities have planted a psychotic undercover agent, Tony (Steven Bauer), as his chauffeur. A beautiful Los Angeles banker, Alex Lee (Anne Heche), is moonlighting as a $1,000-a-night call-girl to pay off her mortgage. She services the sexually voracious Bruno, is raped by Tony and then blackmailed by the Feds. Walken sends his Chinese wife Virginia (Joan Chen) to Alex's bank as part of a gigantic scam and the two women fall passionately in love. The film is from start to finish absolutely crazy, full of baroque dialogue and over-the-top performances. On one level it's a power game between an unlikely unhinged quartet, on another it's an orgy in serial form. It is often queasily risible, as when the financier prepares to bugger his chauffeur in front of Alex to demonstrate his superiority, and makes the intended victim roll the condom on for him as he smokes a cigar. Yet like all Cammell's work, Wild Side is oddly compelling - riveting in the sense that you feel nailed to a post as you watch it. The editing is disconcerting, the interiors claustrophobic, and Cammell uses to considerable emblematic effect the township of Long Beach, where the immaculate three-funnelled Queen Mary is isolated in an industrial seaside wasteland. In a curious reference back to the London of the 1960s, the heroine's nasty boss is called Rachman, presumably after the property racketeer involved in the Profumo scandal.
Philip French

Here (and above) is the trailer.

Capital Celluloid 2023 — Day 241: Wed Aug 30

No Home Movie (Akerman, 2015): Prince Charles Cinema, 12.45pm

Chicago Reader review:
Chantal Akerman’s final film (2015) shares some formal concerns with her earlier works; what sets it apart is a stream of love and yearning, regret and loss, from which painful memories resurface. Akerman (who died in 2015) said that she prepared for her 1975 masterpiece Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles by closely observing her homemaker mother, Natalia, for decades, and indeed this 2015 documentary about her mother’s last years reveals an extraordinarily warm, intimate bond between parent and globe-trotting daughter. Long takes of the Israeli desert, paralleled with long takes of empty rooms in Natalia’s apartment, suggest her sense of dislocation as a Holocaust survivor, a condition she struggles to verbalize in her kitchen with a daughter who probes for more. The combination of memoir and abstraction is both cerebral and heartrending.
Andrea Gronvall

Here (and above) is the trailer.

Capital Celluloid 2023 — Day 240: Tue Aug 29

The Night of the Hunter (Laughton, 1955): BFI Southbank, NFT1, 8.50pm


Chicago Reader review:
Charles Laughton's first and only film as a director (1955) is an enduring masterpiece—dark, deep, beautiful, aglow. Robert Mitchum, in the role that most fully exploits his ferocious sexuality, is the evil preacher pursuing two orphaned children across a sinister, barren midwest; Lillian Gish is the widow who protects the children, in a depiction of maternal love worthy of her mentor, D.W. Griffith. Laughton's direction has Germanic overtones—not only in the expressionism that occasionally grips the image, but also in a pervasive, brooding romanticism that suggests the Erl-King of Goethe and Schubert. But ultimately the source of its style and power is mysterious—it is a film without precedent and without any real equals.
Dave Kehr

Here (and above) is the trailer.

Capital Celluloid 2023 — Day 239: Mon Aug 28

Sátántangó (Tarr, 1994): Prince Charles Cinema, 10am

ICA introduction:
This legendary film, running at 7 hours 12 minutes, deals with the collapse of a collectivised Soviet-era farm in rural Hungary. There is the scent of money in the air, and, in chaotic and changeable times, a yearning for meaning and salvation. At such times it is inevitable that prophets and Messiahs will be longed and waited for. The question is whether they will be false prophets, or mere charlatans. In the chilly, bleak rotten world of Sátántangó, who will follow who, and why, are left wonderfully uncertain. These are ordinary human concerns, but it is the vastness of the  landscape, the featureless plains and endless horizons, and a terrifying, unremitting wind from nowhere, and a rain that falls without end, that threatens to wash away all human hope. Signature long takes, often as long as the 10 minutes that a roll of film allows, combined with astonishing camera choreography offers a sublime cinema experience. To commit to Sátántangó is to commit to the unforgettable and life-changing: these are the outer limits of cinema. The screening is on 35mm.

Chicago Reader review:
How can I do justice to this grungy seven-hour black comedy (1994), in many ways my favorite film of the 90s? Adapted by Hungarian filmmaker Bela Tarr and Laszlo Krasznahorkai from the latter's 1985 novel, this is a diabolical piece of sarcasm about the dreams, machinations, and betrayals of a failed farm collective, set during a few rainy fall days (two of them rendered more than once from the perspectives of different characters). The form of the novel was inspired by the steps of the tango—six forward, six backward—an idea reflected by the film's overlapping time structure, 12 sections, and remarkable choreographed long takes and camera movements. The subject of this brilliantly constructed narrative is nothing less than the world today, and its 431-minute running time is necessary not because Tarr has so much to say, but because he wants to say it right. In Hungarian with subtitles.
Jonathan Rosenbaum

Here (and above) is an extract.

Capital Celluloid 2023 — Day 238: Sun Aug 27

Murder and Murder (Rainer, 1996): ICA Cinema, 6pm

This film is part of the Yvonne Rainer retrospective at the ICA. Full details here.

ICA introduction:
Rainer’s last feature is also one of her most personal, inspired by the lows and highs of a breast cancer diagnosis in the early 1990s, and the surprise of a burgeoning lesbian relationship. The latter is playfully refracted here through the love story of two women from very different backgrounds: Yvonne’s sixty-something screen counterpart Doris (Joanna Merlin) and the younger academic she’s soon to move in with, Mildred (Kathleen Chalfant).A comic romance whose emotions are amplified by Rainer’s structural tomfoolery and signature intellectual rigour – with the director providing running commentary and appearing intermittently to address the camera – MURDER and murder probes the pleasures, and attendant questions, of late-in-life love affairs.

This is the UK Premiere of the 4K restoration of the work.

Here (and above) is the trailer.

Capital Celluloid 2023 — Day 237: Sat Aug 26

No 1 Body Double (De Palma, 1984): Rio Cinema, 11.30pm


One of the highlights of the year, a very rare screening from Movies Are Dead of Brian De Palma's cruelly underrated mid-1980s Hitchcockian thriller. Highly recommended.

Chicago Reader review:
It pains me to say it, but I think Brian De Palma has gotten a bad rap on this one: the first hour of this thriller represents the most restrained, accomplished, and effective filmmaking he has ever done, and if the film does become more jokey and incontinent as it follows its derivative path, it never entirely loses the goodwill De Palma engenders with his deft opening sequences. Craig Wasson is an unemployed actor who is invited to house-sit a Hollywood Hills mansion; he becomes voyeuristically involved with his beautiful neighbor across the way, and witnesses her murder. Those who have seen Vertigo will have solved the mystery within the first 15 minutes, but De Palma's use of frame lines and focal lengths to define Wasson's point of view is so adept that the suspense takes hold anyway. De Palma's borrowings from Hitchcock can no longer be characterized as hommages or even as outright thievery; his concentration on Hitchcockian motifs is so complete and so fetishized that it now seems purely a matter of repetition compulsion. But Body Double is the first De Palma film to make me think that all of his practice is leading at least to the beginnings of perfection.
Dave Kehr 


If you want to read more about this movie there's Susan Dworkin's Double De Palma, an on-the-set account of the making of the film, plus a very thoughtful chapter in Misogyny in the Movies: the De Palma Question by Kenneth Mackinnon. Manuela Lazic has also written about the movie in a recent blog piece for The Film Stage. 

Here (and above) is the trailer.

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No 2 Casino (Scorsese, 1995): Prince Charles Cinema, 8pm


Love the opening titles (here); love the cast; love the soundtrack ... 

This great film screens on 35mm as part of the Martin Scorsese 90s season. Details here.

Chicago Reader review:
Simultaneously quite watchable and passionless, Martin Scorsese's three-hour dissection of power in Las Vegas (1995), set principally in the 1970s, sometimes comes across like an anthology of his previous collaborations with Robert De Niro—above all GoodFellas, though here the characters are high rollers to begin with. By far the most interesting star performance is by Sharon Stone as a classy hooker destroyed by her marriage to a bookie (De Niro, in the least interesting star performance) selected by the midwest mob to run four casinos. There's an interesting expositional side to the film, with De Niro and Joe Pesci's characters both serving as interactive narrators, but the film never becomes very involving as drama, With James Woods, Don Rickles, Alan King, Kevin Pollak, and L.Q. Jones. 
Jonathan Rosenbaum

Here (and above) is the trailer.

Capital Celluloid 2023 — Day 236: Fri Aug 25

 Dick Tracy (Beatty, 1990): BFI Southbank, NFT2, 8.40pm


This is a 35mm presentation. 

Time Out review:
Set in the '30s, Warren Beatty's film culls its villains - a gallery of grotesques with names like Pruneface, Flattop and The Brow - from the later '40s strips. As Tracy (Beatty) sets about foiling the plans of Big Boy and The Blank to take over the city, Breathless Mahoney (Madonna) introduces emotional conflict for the careerist detective, whose long-standing relationship with Tess Trueheart (Glenne Headly) is going nowhere fast. Beatty has rejected 'psychology and behaviour' (read complexity) in characterisation; this is old-fashioned, clearly defined morality, with literally no shades of grey (the use of colour is wonderfully imaginative and carefully modulated). Pleasing restraint is evident in the way Beatty allows his character to be outshone by his adversaries. As mobster Big Boy, a brash thug fond of misquoting Lincoln, Nietzsche and Plato, Al Pacino is virtually unrecognisable and hugely enjoyable; and Madonna gives confident renditions of the Stephen Sondheim numbers. A spectacular movie whose technical achievements - notably the sharp editing - will surely provide a gauge by which subsequent comic strip films are judged.
Colette Maude

Here (and above) is the trailer.