1934

Sure, why not keep the lists coming?

It's been a while since I posted a new 30s list. This one's been a long time coming for me. The only list I have to finish after this is 1930, but I'm waiting to see one more before that's done. Here's 1934 for now, a strong year for comedies:

1. The Thin Man (van Dyke)
2. L’Atalante (Vigo)
3. It Happened One Night (Capra)
4. The Scarlet Empress (von Sternberg)
5. Twentieth Century (Hawks)
6. The Black Cat (Ulmer)
7. The Man Who Knew Too Much (Hitchcock)
8. The Gay Divorcee (Sandrich)
9. It’s a Gift (McLeod)
10. Manhattan Melodrama (van Dyke)

I don't have a lot to say about these films because I'm a little tired of writing today, but here's some quick, offhand sentences about each:

THE THIN MAN, the first in a truly great and consistently charming series, is the funniest and sharpest of the bunch and serves as a wonderful introduction to my favorite screen couple of all time–Nick and Nora Charles (if you include Asta, then make it my favorite triumvirate). Audiences and the studio alike knew how magical this pair was, which is why the series had such longevity and was so successful. Once you see the first, you won't even hesitate to want to watch the rest of the series, and you won't be disappointed (I think they are all worth seeing). The first probably has the best murder plot as well, but it's still only an excuse for Powell and Loy to spout one-liners and charm the hell out of us. There's really no point beating around it–it's one of the best and most consistently enjoyable comedies ever produced in Hollywood.

L'ATALANTE is absolutely beautiful. One of the great examples of French Poetic Realism–a movement, like this film, where you feel the images in your bones.

IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT is Capra's best behind IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE. Very funny, and one of the first classic films I ever saw.

THE SCARLET EMPRESS is my favorite von Sternberg film. Dietrich is beautiful in it, but the real stars are VS's visual flair and the incredibly ornate sets. The detail is astonishing.

TWENTIETH CENTURY is Hawks being quite funny and sharp, and has Carole Lombard looking more beautiful than ever.

THE BLACK CAT is probably the most fucked up horror film of the 30s. It packs as many wild and taboo subjects in just over an hour of screentime that it can. Awesome skin grating sequence too.

THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH has the master starting to use his trademark set pieces with real skill and develop his storytelling ability to grander heights. I thought this was great, but I did watch a crappy print of it that really needed to be cleaned up. I kept screaming for Marty Scorsese's help while I was watching it.

THE GAY DIVORCEE is equally as charming as the other Astaire/Rogers films I've seen. Like the Berkeley musicals, it's probably all just an excuse to dance and sing, but it makes a fine spectacle nonetheless.

IT'S A GIFT is W.C. Fields and some great gags. What else is there to say?

MANHATTAN MELODRAMA is a film I think that Brandon likes quite a bit more than me, but I still really enjoyed it. I enjoy anything Powell and Loy (and Gable), though I was expecting a comedy (despite the title) based on the Thin Man movies. Instead it's more of a crime drama that you would expect to see Cagney pop up in. Still, nothing wrong with that.

I'm gonna try to post 1944 and 1951 lists as soon as possible.

2010 in 2012

I guess the DRIVE 2.0 debate died as soon as Ben used the whole "subjective perception" defense. Geesh, just as Brandon and I were getting our empty Bud Light bottles ready to crack over his skull. Of course, that's what it will always come down to–personal preference. However, it's still fun to debate until we reach that incontestable point. Ben, I knew you'd clarify your position on the film, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to pounce on your "DRIVE is for people who don't like movies" line. It was just too audacious to ignore. I'm glad you clarified your point though; I can totally understand your frustration at the hype/accolades DRIVE receives over films you feel are more worthy. I think most of that frustration was at the heart of our DRIVE/COLD WEATHER debate anyway. But, I think I get a little frustrated when we talk less about films themselves and instead focus on the politics of criticism surrounding them.

IndieWire posted a great discussion with Jonathan Rosenbaum and Kent Jones on Godard recently, and Jones talks about how there has never been a real discussion of Godard's work because it has always been shrouded in external reactions. It's either blind polemics against anything he does or blinder encomiums for everything he does. He's hip to love and to hate and what fails between these two poles is always his films themselves, never fully addressed for what they are. This is incredibly irritating.

Obviously, I'd be great to be able to talk about films in a vacuum, but this is impossible because there is too much surrounding them that we are constantly aware of. The cultural politics of any artwork invariably get mixed up with the actual artwork itself. Still, I think it's important to remember when we are focusing less on movies themselves and more on the shit around them (something I oft have to remind myself of). I'd rather be told a movie I love sucks because it has no idea how to develop characters than told it sucks because it is popular, critically lauded, or its adherents are all "fanboys." Brandon, you wrote some great things about this, and I appreciate them. Especially, in relation to violent cinema. Much of the talk surrounding violence in film is about factors that have nothing to do with film.

Anyway, good to get this all out there. I'm glad you wrote something passionate against the film, Ben. It's more fun that way. I think 95% of my initial negative reaction to MELANCHOLIA was over external minutia, but once I started to strip that away I started to really like the film for what it was. So, I really can't blame you for reacting to DRIVE the way you do. We all do it.

Glad the 201o updates are coming in, so I can post my own. Actually, this is the first time I'm posting my list in numerical order, as the first list I made was so awful I didn't know how to rank it. John, will be more pleased with this list because it mostly adheres to his dating system; however, I didn't want to make him too happy so I kept ALAMAR on there. I thought about adding COPY, BOONME, and 13 ASSASSINS to my 2011 list but I felt weird mixing them into a list with the 2011 Cannes films, like THE TREE OF LIFE and LE HAVRE. So, they will go into my 2010 list and help it out substantially.

1. Another Year
2. Certified Copy
3. Uncle Boonme Who Can Recall His Past Lives
4. The Social Network
5. True Grit
6. 13 Assassins
7. Blue Valentine
8. Winter’s Bone
9. Alamar
10. 127 Hours

ANOTHER YEAR holds the top spot despite serious competition from COPY and BOONME. The top 3 could easily be interchangeable though. ANOTHER YEAR gets the edge basically for one extended sequence towards the end of the film that is so incredibly awkward and beautiful. Ben, I know you feel that COPY isn't as mind-blowing as others think, but I don't think it needs to be mind-blowing at all to be completely effective and provocative cinema. It rules. Same goes for the mesmerizing BOONME; it rules.

Can't wait to see the first 2011 list, which Brandon has got to be close to finishing. I need to see quite a few more before mine's done, but right now I have a thoroughly solid top 7. I've still got those other lists I have done to post as well. I'm drowning in my own nerdiness here.

Briefly, on a completely different note, Jason's latest post may seem tangential, but it is actually a very cleverly disguised review expressing his love for Paul W.S. Anderson's THE THREE MUSKETEERS. Well done, sir. Well done.

Everytime I think I'm out...

I guess if you want people to address your post (even when it's coming in months after the initial discussion) you just have to disagree vehemently, make bold comparisons to hack authors, and say incendiary remarks like DRIVE is "the movie for people who don't like movies." Okay, Ben, you win. I'll bite.

If DRIVE is the movie for people who don't like movies, then does that mean that I don't like movies because I like DRIVE? :) All jokes aside, this is a strange argument to make, and feels like more of an impression of things external to the movie than the movie itself. Did you see DRIVE with a bunch of meatheads or something? A sort of fratboy equivalent to John's MIDNIGHT IN PARIS yuppie crowd?

"They can talk about how it's violent, but so is real life, blah, blah. They are criminals, but they have a heart, didn't you see that slight eyebrow raise the timid Gos gave to Mulligan? Shut up, the movie is about a criminal mechanic who steals and kills and wears the same dumb jacket. He's very careful about getting caught unless it means taking off his blood soaked scorpion coat. Pretty people, hip music, blood, brains and veins. Cars!"

Who are you talking to here? Are you keyed into a DRIVE demographic that I'm completely unaware of? I'm sure DRIVE has all kinds of fans from sensitive fratboys to art-house nerds who like head stompings, but it seems to me that the people who have really been carrying its weight are less those who don't like movies (whoever they are) and more those who do like them. DRIVE's CinemaScore rating was a solid C+, so your average filmgoer seems to have loathed it. But it's polling at 91% on RottenTomatoes and is 3rd on the Metacritic's scorecard list of the best films of 2011, so the critics are the ones getting behind it. I don't use these numbers to say that DRIVE is awesome because critics love it or to suggest that you are in the average filmgoer crowd who just doesn't "get" DRIVE, but just to challenge your impression that DRIVE is is the ultimate fodder for philistines. Obviously (and I know you'd agree) DRIVE can have all sorts of fans, from idiot viewers and idiot critics to smart viewers and smart critics (to be fair, I'm throwing myself in the idiot viewer category).

I guess I just didn't get the impression you did of the film and often wondered while watching it who its audience really was. I know I loved it because it reminded me of Sergio Leone. I think Leone excelled at reading the American Western and reinterpreting it through a heavily stylized, incredibly violent, and almost operatic expression of cinematic joy. I felt like Refn was doing something similar with the L.A. car movies he probably saw from the 70s: reinterpreting them through his own frame. Perhaps I'm buying too much into the Sarris doctrine, but I really think that Refn's stylistic choices are a huge part of why the film is great, in the similar way that Brandon thought that Fincher's flourishes made TGWTDT. I love to see a director put a really talented stamp on something, and if they are able to engage me with the story and characters in the process then I'm completely sold. I know our DRIVE/COLD WEATHER debate was essentially about style vs. substance, but I thought DRIVE had style and substance, which is why I liked it as much as I did.

I can understand feeling predisposed to disliking the film based on the odd and almost tangential COLD WEATHER/DRIVE debate. I felt predisposed to looking for things to hate on in COLD WEATHER because it was being hyped against a movie I really dug. But, I can easily look past this and admit the merits of COLD WEATHER because thankfully I don't have to choose between them. If it came down to choosing, realistically, I'd say fuck them both and watch something by Bergman instead.

P.S.

John, I forgot to mention it, but I watched Rohmer's THE GIRL AT THE MONCEAU BAKERY and SUZANNE'S CAREER recently as well. I can't remember exactly, but I think you said that MONCEAU BAKERY is your favorite of his moral tales (correct me if I'm wrong). If this is so, I can absolutely see why. It certainly gets to the heart of what Rohmer is trying to do with his tales in a very concise amount of time. It's simultaneously a perfect summation of his ideas and a prelude to their further exploration. It's a great introduction to his work.

As with MY NIGHT AT MAUD's, I loved these two films and am really glad you gave them to me. I love that Rohmer is able to work off of nearly the same template for each film yet always make his characters and stories fascinating. My favorite thing about his work (based on these three selections from it) is how conscious and articulate he makes his characters; it always makes them human. His characters, like actual humans, invariably function in a world of ideas, principles, and language. They have freedom to choose between things, desires for certain things, and precepts according to which they make decisions. It always feels like a real person is communicating to, not just someone reciting a script. Rohmer is excellent at exploring what makes human beings tick. We never question why his characters do the things they do because we are always aware of the various layers of their humanity. Perhaps the greatest thing about Rohmer is that, though these are titled Moral Tales, he is less interested in supplying a moral as he is in examining how we live with morality. This way, he isn't so much a preacher as an observer and instigator for thought.

I've read some complaints of Rohmer's work that it is too analytic and talkative. Perhaps it's because I'm too overly analytic myself, but I've loved and really responded to all of the films I've seen of his. I guess I just don't understand the criticism.

HuluPlus roundup

Great year in review, John. I’m honored to be a part of what you and Brandon deem the best year in film club history. It’s been a lot of fun. My favorite moments of the year are easily all the film club gatherings, even the inadvertent film club gathering at Margarita’s with Ben. Here’s hoping we can include Jason in a gathering in 2012. If not, I’ll just have to go with Summer People to a Rochester show sometime to meet him.

I'm sorry to all for not responding to any posts you might have. I read them all with great love and admiration, but if I don't respond to any of them it is because I have nothing interesting to offer or because I haven't seen/heard of what you are discussing. Please, keep all the posts coming though. They are a joy to read.

I still haven’t watched THE KID WITH A BIKE, but I have been faithfully watching Hulu Plus’ Criterion Collection instead. The vast array of Crit.Co. films they have on there (especially the ones that are no longer in circulation) make it worth every single penny. It’s a an incredible deal–and probably better than NWI because of how crumby their selection is. I know I sound like a Hulu spokesperson (I wish they were paying me for this), but I highly recommend getting it if you are interested in having nearly unlimited access to Criterion’s expensive but peerless selection.

Consider Ozu’s EARLY SUMMER a beautiful continuation of his remarkable and tender LATE SPRING. And consider me a new convert to his work. I had seen TOKYO STORY in high School, but like with Bresson, I don’t think I was ready or mature enough to understand what he was doing with the camera or with his stories. His style might have seemed too simple to me at the time. Now, I see the simplicity, but notice this sort of mystical quality or radiance that makes the simplicity seem like the most complex and vital thing I’ve seen on a screen in a long time. EARLY SUMMER and LATE SPRING are never dull for a second. They are consistently warm, gentle, humane, fascinating, and effortlessly beautiful. Ozu is one of the most entrancing filmmakers around, and the simplicity on the surface of his film only belies a deeper connection that is constantly working upon you, like the way a familiar sight can sometimes seem as if you are looking at it for the first time. Ozu is my latest cinematic hero–I’m glad I revisited him when I was ready for him.

Rossellini’s GERMANY YEAR ZERO is devastating–a sort of anguished cry against the destructive magnitude of war and the lives it ruins. Between this and ROME, OPEN CITY, Rossellini excels at capturing civilian life during and after war time. I have no idea about his feelings as a man, but his films seem endlessly compassionate. What a ballsy move to shoot a film about a devastated German population so close after the end of WWII. To be able to look through the obviously warranted outrage, wrath, and demonization to find regular people suffering from the evil and vicious exploits of their leaders takes a lot of humility and courage. The images of our young protagonist walking through lonely streets of rubble and the last few images depicting his fate are some that I will never forget.

Carné’s HOTEL DU NORD, like LE SOUR SE LEVE and PORT OF SHADOWS, continues with his theme of love and doom in 1930s France. It has all of the melodramatic yet tender moments I’ve come to expect from his work, plus a great deal of humor. The greatest moments in the film are the ones where we spend time with the community in the hotel because they reminded me why I loved LE HAVRE so much, and surely why Kaurismaki loves Carné so much. I’m right there with him. Carné is one of my absolute favorite filmmakers. A director through which poetry and humanity flowed as if it were second nature. This is another great film from him.

Dieterle’s PORTRAIT OF JENNIE isn’t a Criterion film, but I caught it on TCM recently and should mention it. Ed Gonzalez has a really swell review of it where he discusses how well the film links artistic impotence with a burgeoning spiritual crisis. I can’t say it any better than he already did. The film does some wonderful things thematically (as well as being a nice love story). But, I will say that it also has some of the finest cinematography of any Hollywood film during the era. It’s amazingly shadowy and mysterious, and the camera’s movements through a snow-covered New York are incredible to see. The “canvas effect” and color saturation towards the end make it that much more strange and visually impressive. It’s all like watching a dream unfold through shadows and haze. An unusual film, but a great one, no doubt.

Right on cue with John’s post about me, I'll just mention quickly that I have completed my 1944 and 1934 lists and will post them as soon as I can. The same goes for my 2010 list. My 1951 list should be completed by the end of the week, and I hope to post it by then as well. 2003 list is waiting in the wings, all in an order I am comfortable with, but I gotta find the time/energy to write it up. Someday soon.

Le Havre

I didn't know anything about Aki Kaurismaki and had never seen one of his films before LE HAVRE, but after sitting through his hilarious and incredibly sweet ode to friendship and community in the titular seaport city of France, consider me an enormous fan.

LE HAVRE evokes the beauty and humanism of French poetic realism and the rose-colored joy of early Rene Clair, but it has a humor and heartbeat that is all its own. Kaurismaki often nods to his film elders, but he never wallows in contrived recreation. The heart and joy of this film is genuine. You sense that Kaurismaki really believes what he shows us. Or at the very least, he believes in not recreating for its own sake, but because he earnestly pines for the community, camaraderie, and human kindness that has often been absent in movies since the Golden Age. What he has created in the process is cinema magic at its most joyous.

The film is unabashedly retro and old-fashioned: the colors are striking yet dulled like 60s techincolor; the apartments look like sets; people still use rotary dials; Marcel is a shoeshiner; there are classical film movie cues for romantic scenes that are actually romantic and sweet. But again this never feels like pure quirkiness of style, but a real desire to inhabit the film world of old because of the way it made you feel and the way it gave you hope. Like with HUGO, in the age of irony and cynical postmodernism, this comes across as the most refreshingly benign and infectiously cheerful palate cleanser you could hope for.

And you know what the most retro and old-fashioned thing about it is? It actually believes in the goodness of humanity. It believes that given the chance people will rise to the occasion, that love, kindness, and teamwork are possible, and most of all, that miracles can happen. And it does it all without a shred of irony. Some may say that it trivializes an important issue like immigration, but I actually think it gives us the best solution we could ever hope for on the isssue: throw away your pretentious seriousness and bullshit cynicism and show some kindness and care to your fellow creatures, no matter what they look like or where they are from. If Kaurismaki wants to cherish the perfect world of classic cinema where everyone comes together he does so only to remind us that what is keeping us apart is only ourselves. Like John Lennon, he's got that big banner waving "War is Over, If You Want It."

The camaraderie this film embraces leads to the greatest sequence in the film and perhaps the greatest moment in any film all year. I cannot even describe to you the absurd joy of watching Marcel and his friends team up to put on a trendy charity concert starring the one and only Little Bob. It's pure bliss. The clip I posted doesn't even do it justice because leading up to it there is a wonderful side plot about reuniting Little Bob with his wife. The whole thing ends up being the most bizarre and downright awesome sequence of the year. All hail Little Bob! Friendship prevails in the end.

I'm running out of things to say because I truly cannot express to you how delightful this film is. I love the deadpan humor and visual gags; the love the pithy, poetic phrases the characters use like "money moves in the shadows"; I love the ballsy ending; I love the actors and all the weird looking characters; I love the compassion, warmth and good heart the film proudly wears on its sleeve. Most of all I love what is ineffable about it. To know what I'm getting at there, you'll just have to see it for yourself. This is one of the best films of the year.

Best Moment of The Year

LE HAVRE rules!