Movies: The Official "Movie of the Week" Club Thread III

[kihei]

The Philadelphia Story (1940) Directed by George Cukor

Tracy Lord (Katharine Hepburn), Philadelphia uber-socialite, is getting married again. Kitteredge, her soon-to-be next husband, is a social climber and a bit of a pompous ass to boot. Being among the most talked about of Philadephia's upper-crust families, what Tracy does is deemed newsworthy. So the local paper sends a pair of reporters her way, proudly working-class Connor (James Stewart) and his sort of girlfriend Liz. Tracy finds their presence awkward and intrusive, but she can handle that. The real problem is that her ex-husband CK Dexter (Cary Grant) is somehow part of the reporting team, too. And he is up to mischief when it comes to her marrying Kitteredge whom he deeply dislikes. Trouble is supposedly down-to-earth Connor may be falling for Tracy, despite her social standing. Even more complicated, Tracy might be falling for Connor. After a pre-wedding party that lasts all night and gets very twisty turny, Tracy's wedding day arrives. As one might suspect by this point, things don't go as planned.

The Philadelphia Story is an odd mix of social commentary on class, a comedy of manners, and a screwball comedy. While the fun centres on how Dexter and Connor are going to consort to stop Tracy's wedding from taking place, Tracy, herself, is a target, too, representing as she does a very privileged class, one that Connor particularly frowns upon. Of course, regular guy Connor's flaws and prejudices are all exposed, too, so that the critique of class bursts some hot air balloons on both sides. However, it is important to keep in mind that this theme, present though it is, takes a backseat to the rest of the hijinks taking place, The Philadelphia Story is blessed with one of the wittiest scripts in Hollywood history, with All about Eve its only natural rival in my book. It seems the audience is never more than a minute removed from the next zinger, many of which are very well aimed and superbly delivered. It helps that three of the biggest stars in Hollywood history, Hepburn, Grant and Stewart, are in fine form and fully invested in their roles. None of these actors are comedians, but their comic timing, verbally and physically (Hepburn reacting to morning sunlight like a startled vampire, for instance) is beyond impeccable. All of them find just the right balance between likable and insufferable and between serious and silly. Still the movie belongs to Hepburn, and the other characters revolve around her like planets around a sun. She is beautifully photographed which helps. But it is her ability to bring depth to her breezy socialite that really matters here. By the end, questions of class aside, we can see why men are willing to do crazy things on Tracy's behalf. It's a luminous performance and the movie would not have a chance of working without it.

While it must be said that the movie doesn't wear well in its approach to gender issues, it can hardly be faulted for projecting the mores of its time. A lot of people, my daughters to name two, stay away from black-and-white movies of the '30s, '40s, and '50s. Movie goers younger than 50 seem in general to avoid these decades of Hollywood film almost entirely. The eras are too remote, too irrelevant, too besmirched with dated values and attitudes, just too distant and "other" to be concerned with. But people are missing some of the greatest movies ever made when they ignore classic Hollywood films. Especially in term of comedy, there is no shortage of brilliant writing to be found---The Philadelphia Story; All about Eve; Bringing Up Baby; It Happened One Night; The Trouble in Paradise; The Awful Truth; and so on. Especially when compared with the contemporary product, it seems a shame that a sizable chunk of the film audience hasn't the taste or the attention span or the ability to suspend disbelief for these movies. The problems some vintage films face are made infinitely more complicated by the nature of comedy itself. There is simply no accounting for what makes one person laugh while another person doesn't even crack a smile. Invariably a writer's critical judgement is deeply influenced by what makes him or her laugh. This never seems to be a problem with tragedy in that we pretty much have collective agreement on what constitutes a tragedy. But all bets are off when it comes to humour. Still I wish people would check out The Philadelphia Story and other great movies of similar vintage. I mean, really, for viewers sticking to the contemporary comedies coming out of Hollywood, what in the world do you have to lose?

 

[kihei]

I thought long and hard about this one. I was strongly leaning toward Jean Luc Godard's Histoire(s) du Cinema, all four hours of experimental film which I think is both innovative and masterful. But I thought that might be a little too much to ask with summer beckoning, so I went with Godard's more recent The Image Book (2018) which is a kind of update on the earlier film in a way and a more modest length.

 

[Jevo]

Morel's Invention (1974) dir. Emidio Greco

A castaway drifts ashore on a remote island on the brink of death. He barely makes it ashore before his little row boat is destroyed against the rocky coast. The island is barren and dry. There's a strange building on the island, but no signs of other humans. The building is futuristic in look, but also appears completely deserted. After some time on the island a group of people arrive. The castaway hides from them, unsure of what they might do to him if they find him. He observes them for some time, overhearing the same conversations between people several times. When he eventually tries to approach them, it's like he's a ghost, they see right through him, and don't react to his presence at all. One day the castaway observes the leader of the group, Morel, explain the reason for the groups presence on the island. He has made an invention, a recording device, that records people and their spiritual essence, giving the possibility of eternal life. When a person has been recorded, the recording is being played back, and the original body dies, but the spirit lives on the in the new body, which does exactly what the old body did in the recording.

A slow burn sci-fi. An Italian counterpart to 2001 and Solaris? Probably not. Greco doesn't appear to have the same eye that Kubrick and Tarkovsky had. There's some nice interior sets with a great mixture of futurism and retro, giving the feel of some incredible invention having taken place there, but decades ago. There's also some really great shots with the building's exterior. But the barren landscape feels as empty as it looks, and I think shows a limitation in Greco, but perhaps it's also cruel to compare him to Tarkovsky and Kubrick. But where Morel's Invention and the two other films share common ground, is in the slow pacing and philosophical themes. Morel's Invention has a very interesting take on what is life, and when are you you. Does Morel grant eternal life with his invention, or does the copies have as much soul as a chinese knock-off. The copies pass the Duck Test, but is that enough to conclude that a person's soul is still there? And does the soul even need to be there, or is the physical manifestation of a person enough to say they are still living?

Morel's Invention is a really strong debut picture from Greco. It has some flaws and is a bit rough around the edges at places, but he shows great potential and shows that he can juggle heavier themes as well. All that makes it more sad, that it seems Greco was never able to find consistent funding for his films, resulting in a very unproductive career.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

The Philadelphia Story
Cuckor (1940)
“Tracey sure can pick ‘em.”

One of the absolute stone cold classics of American rom-coms. Our players: Tracy Lord, an upper class Philadelphia socialite, though hardly the privileged shrinking violet type. She’s a modern woman. CK Dexter Haven (helluva name there), her gadabout ex-husband. Mike, a reluctant reporter assigned to cover Lord’s upcoming marriage. Over the course of the nuptial weekend these players (as well as a few others including family members and Mike’s sidekick co-worker who may be the only person who sees the entire game ...) flitter in and out of each other’s orbit. Will Tracy stay the course with her successful though clearly a bit of a drip husband? Will she reconcile with an old flame? Or perhaps the salty reporter’s charms might win her over? Oh who are we kidding, it’s pretty obvious how this is going to play out, right?

But it’s the journey, not the destination as some may say. These are good bones here, made better by a trio of legends operating at the peak fo their skills. Hepburn plays Hepburn. Grant plays Grant. Stewart plays Stewart. Identities are switched and exchanged (at least briefly). Misunderstandings occur. This isn’t too complex.

Unless, of course, your want to filter it through a more modern view and in that case, your feelings may differ. We’re introduced to Grant in a scene that plays for laughs but does involve him forcibly pushing Hepburn down by her face in a anger. His agitated alcoholic past is talked about as much as 1940s charmer will allow. But he’s better now. The only real reason Grant seems to be a good choice is because, well, he’s Cary Grant. The ending goes through a few twists and turns as various wedding combinations are proposed and rejected. Hepburn, otherwise confident, seems to lose a little agency toward the end as the script dictates. Though the philandering father’s change of heart comes across as the most “Whaaaa?” Ruth Hussey’s Liz kinda sorta feels like she gets a raw deal, clearly pining for Mike who just asked another woman to marry him. Unless, of course, you want to read it as she knew all this, knew how it was going to play out and was cool with it. I’m in that camp. As I already mentioned, I think she’s the only one who sees the whole game. She might deserve better though!

Do I believe these all to be real complaints? Not really. But these things did occur to me while watching. Curious if it stood out to others as well. My partner, for one, did not find Grant pushing Hepburn to be charming at all. I’m content enough to be swept along to its rhythm. It’s high level pros at near their best. It’s actually one of my favorite Stewart performances, though he becomes a bit of a dope toward the end. He’s an impressive “drunk” actor, which is one of my weird entertainment watching pet peeves. Final special mention to Virginia Weidler, as Dinah the spunky kid sis is a scene stealer. I smile every time she rips off a line.

 

[Jevo]

The Philadelphia Story (1940) dir. George Cukor

Socialite Tracy Lord (Katherine Hepburn) is about to get married for the second time, after a failed marriage to C.K. Dexter Haven (Cary Grant), a fellow member of her social set, who she kicked out for drinking too much and not being perfect. This time she's set to marry the new rich George Kitteridge. The editor of Spy magazine is desperate to get a scoop here, so he sends one of his writers, Mike Connor (James Stewart) really a writer of short stories who's doing paparazzi journalism for income, undercover at the Lord estate together with Connor's regular photographer and Dexter Haven. Haven is to introduce the two as friends of Tracy's brother, a diplomat in Argentina. Tracy doesn't buy the charade, but Dexter Haven threatens to publish a story about her fathers infidelity if she tells. While preparing for the wedding, Tracy gets intrigued by the charming Connor, and she again starts to see why she fell for Dexter Haven in the first place. She's now about to marry one man, while falling in love with two more.

The story set up is contrived, so much that even the main character doesn't believe it. But what romantic comedy doesn't have a contrived story? Better to accept it and roll with it, rather than play innocent and pretend your story might happen in real life. Even if the love triangle (or is it rather a love trident with Kitteridge also in the mix?) here is somewhat contrived, made even worse by the production codes at the time requiring Tracy and Dexter Haven to divorce before they can get back together, it is one of the more charming in cinema history. We have three of the best comedic talents in Hollywood at the time playing lead roles. What could go wrong? In fact not much. Hepburn, Stewart and Grant all bring their A-game. The script is solid, with a lot of wit, and it keeps the story moving at a brisk pace. George Cukor's direction makes everything come together very nicely.

Romantic comedies isn't my go to genre, but this is a good example of what the genre can do. It has solid laughs and a lot of charm. It might not change your life, but it will keep well entertained through the whole movie. More than can be said for most comedies.

 

[Spring in Fialta]

Will have a review up in a couple of days.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

A socialite's perfect wedding day is threatened by the presence of uninvited gossip reporters who exploit a family secret to blackmail their way onto the guest list. Well, this is awkward. Awkward, but funny. In The Philadelphia Story false identities and phony covers are thrown up while social pretensions are torn down just as fast as free-flowing champagne will allow. It's an epic for wisecracks, the bon mots alternating with hiccups. This is a love story for haters, showing how people can be brought together by mutual contempt.

Class warfare isn't usually this sophisticated, but the battleground is the mansion and gardens of the high society and the riff raff aren't onscreen, they're in the audience. They're the readers of SPY magazine, the TMZ of its day, looking for a glimpse into the lives of American royalty. Tracy--Katherine Hepburn--is a queen, but can wear the mantle of goddess if necessary, interrogates the imposters with smiling ease under the guise of making small talk; CK--Cary Grant--is her once and future king, giving wifebeating alcoholics an image boost. That makes Connor--James Stewart--the jack...or is he the knave? He's slumming on this assignment; considers himself a poet but takes the job for the money. After his proposal to Tracy is rejected he rebounds to Liz, why she doesn't tell him to take a walk right there is beyond me, but this isn't about her any more than it's about Lydia the Tattooed Lady (my fave scene btw). This is about Tracy, fighting a class war on the Connor front and a battle of the sexes on the CK front.

 

[Jevo]

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964) dir. Jacques Demy

Genevieve (Catherine Deneuve) is the young daughter of the owner of an umbrella store in Cherbourg. The store is being run by her mother with help Genevieve, ever since Genevieve's father died. Genevieve has recently started seeing Guy, a young automechanic, in secret. Guy lives with his aunt, who is mortally ill, she is being cared for by Madeleine, a young nurse. When Genevieve tells her mother about her relationship with Guy, she gets mocked, and told she's too young to know what real love is, and that she shouldn't tie herself down just yet. Guy gets drafted into the army and sent to Algeria, but before he leaves he spends a night with Genevieve, which gets her pregnant. While Guy is away, the umbrella shop is in economic trouble, but Genevieve's mother finds help from Roland, a charming jewelry trader. She clearly fancies him, but he has his eyes set on Genevieve, and although his help isn't conditioned by her, her mother pushes her to accept his advances, despite the child that she is carrying.

The movie starts out feeling like the love that Guy and Genevieve share. Youthful, without a care in the world, and no worry that evil might exist anywhere in this world. The movie ends on the complete opposite end of the spectrum, as a very tragic movie. Although no one dies or anything like that. The movie is not a melodrama. It's a small story of normal people, and the emotions that they feel. But seeing Genevieve and Guy meet together again at the end, after many years apart, now both married elsewhere and with a life and kids of their own, is a fantastic scene, and incredibly tragic. Without having to say a word about it. They both know that they still love each other as much as they did years ago. They also both know that there's no way they can be together. Their love will always be unfulfilled, thwarted by the cruel hand of pragmatism, perhaps the most unromantic thing in the world. Although I really want them to be together, and I know there's no way they can be together in the world that they live in, I also think this is one of the best endings to a movie I know. It tears your heart out, but also somehow leaves you with a feeling of believing in love. Despite both of them trying to be as neutral as possible during their encounter, their love shines through anyway. It's such a great scene, and the performances are really great.

I'm not normally one for musicals. Music numbers tend to take me out of the movie when they suddenly appear out of nowhere, and I have a hard time suspending disbelief. This despite having grown up on disney animated movies. But apparently when it's a talking warthog doing it, impromptu musical performances aren't that out of the ordinary. But here there are no musical numbers, because the whole movie is being sung. That makes it much easier for me to suspend disbelief, because that's just everything is here apparently. It's just like black/white like that. I really like how the singing dialogue allows a more feeling to come out of the dialogue itself, which frees up the actors to have more under played physical performances. When the big emotions are being handled by the words and how they are being sung, it allows the actors to focus more on the details with their face and body, and I think it gives a very good end product.

Visually the movie looks exactly like a world where everyone sings all the time. The colours and bright and very saturated. It's not something that will work for every film, but here it is the perfect choice. If the movie had the tired look of a hollywood movie from 90s, it would have never come together as well as it does.

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is a fantastic movie in my opinion. It has love, fun, tragedy and sadness all in one, and it makes me feel it all as well.

 

[Jevo]

From a romantic musical, to something quite different. The original Invasion of the Body Snatchers from 1956 is my next pick.

 

[kihei]

From a romantic musical, to something quite different. The original Invasion of the Body Snatchers from 1956 is my next pick.

Great pick, Jevo.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

Oh crap, didn't think about that. I got it from surrealmoviez while it was running. Might be real tough to find.

I've been having trouble tracking this one down too. Found a clip on Vimeo and another on...Pornhub??

As Leo would say...now you have my interest!

 

[Pranzo Oltranzista]

I've been having trouble tracking this one down too. Found a clip on Vimeo and another on...Pornhub??

As Leo would say...now you have my interest!

Ahahah, yeah well I guess there is a brief moment at the end that goes that way. I'm really sorry about that selection, I guess I'll think of something else, easier to find...

 

[Spring in Fialta]

The Philadelphia Story (1940) - What in the world...? As a purebred millenial - born in '92 - that's not a film major, I do not think it should come as a surprise that my knowledge of classical Hollywood is limited to what has been portrayed by modern Hollywood, and that I've watched little of the movies produced during that period of filmmaking, outside of certain major classics and the odd curiosity piece. Well, this ain't it. And I don't know how I feel about it. On one hand, it easily bests anything the rom-com genre has to offer today. On the other hand, I think the writer of the script got himself tangled up so deeply in the buffoonery of his characters that he completely rushed his ending, as if he was having so much fun that he didn't realize he was at the end until he was, y'know, there. Even for such a witty film and with suspension of disbelief (which I don't struggle with. I've no problem accepting another writer's world if it feels organic. Hell, I think Kafka's the best to ever do it in any artistic form) I couldn't help but watch with raised eyebrows as the entire denouement of the story was solved, broken, then solved again within about ten lines, and to everybody's - well, almost everybody's - welfare. I mean, Connor falls in love, proposes marriage, gets turned down (in front of his girlfriend nonetheless!) goes back to his girlfriend (who doesn't question anything!) before cosplaying as best man to Dexter, who as Ralph Spoilsport perfectly puts it, serves to give alcoholic womanbeaters the perfect imageboost. (I mean, he really is what I would imagine some narcissistic, delusional and abusive drunk to fancy himself as). It got to be a little much, especially for a film that showed tremendous wit and cleverness without ever insulting the viewer and walking the line perfectly between the comic absurd and ridiculous.

With that said, despite some lines being sitcom-level at best, the performances ooze with charm, confidence and endearing insolence. My favorite bit must be when the little scoundrel girl Dinah hams it up with some french when she introduces herself to Connor and Liz. I also thought character motivations and prejudices were weaved in perfectly with the comedic spirit of the film, and served to give unexpected and well-placed emotional, intellectual depth to the screwball film. Hepburn and Grant certainly carry the film, and this being the first time I'd ever watched them play - that seems a more fit description than acting here - I certainly wouldn't mind the chance to watch some other films from the era. An entertaining and funny film all in all, despite the ending. At least the last shot/picture allowed me to end this one with a darling (hehe) laugh.

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg
Demy (1964)
“Maybe happiness make me sad.”

Boy meets girl. Girl’s mother disapproves. There are money troubles. War divides our lovers. A more appropriate suitor emerges. Time and distance takes its toll. The young love cannot survive. It’s a common recipe, but rarely has it ever had such the candy-colored coating surrounding its bittersweet filling as it does in The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. Oh. It’s a musical. You don’t see too many musicals like this, where every line is sung. There aren’t songs, really, just Michel Legrand’s lush and jazzy score. There’s a bit of a disconnect when reading the words. But the melodic and sing-song nature of the French language happens to make some beautiful music. Speaking of beautiful, couples don’t get as toothsome as young Catherine Deneuve and Nino Castelnuovo.

But as memorably beatific as those two are, Demy and Legrand are the stars here. Legrand first — what romantic and haunting music. It’s a musical, but the actors don’t dance. The movement is Demy’s camera. He’s the dancer. He’s the action. It tracks down alleyways and circles around rooms with a steady grace. I see Demy moving down a hallway in Guy’s garage, but what I’m feeling is Scorsese tracking down the bar in Mean Streets. Spike Lee’s signature dolly shot is done here with Deneuve, her face a sad mask as reality sets in. We’ve had a nice run of movies lately with colors that really explode off my TV and this is right there. Rich pastels abound. It’s a engaging for the eyes and the ears alike.

Oh man, the end. The snow. The gas station. Two people once in the deepest most powerful love. The seed remains, but it cannot grow. Both of those realities are just below the surface of the awkward conversation. Their lives aren’t bad. There is happiness. But the loss and the ache will always be there to some degree. Those few minutes ruin me unlike any others in film.

In a bizzare personal coinicidence my ex-wife called me out of the blue a week ago, mere days after rewatching this (seen it a few times before). We hadn’t talked in almost two years. There was nothing of significant note to the conversation. Just a “how are you doing.” We’ve both move on. I can’t speak fully to her situation, though she says she’s happy. I can speak to mine. I am happy. My life is good. Far better than I would have expected a few years ago. But the bitterseeet is still there, the touch of sadness for a life that once was good but now is impossible. It’s not so much a wanting for what we can’t have. Not any more. We can shed some tears for what’s been lost.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

In the French coastal town of Cherbourg two love-struck teens--Genevieve and Guy--pledge eternal love to one another just before Guy leaves for a two-year army stint. Two months later Genevieve is pregnant and the pledge is off. She has found a new man, one who loves her and wants to give her a comfortable, stable life. Guy eventually returns: almost crippled, understandably bitter, and on a path to self-destruction until a long-time crush steps in to put his life back in order and on the right track. Years later Genevieve and Guy cross paths again. They are both better off with their new partners, but the thrill is gone. What is this thing called love? Turns out it's a lot like an umbrella--sensible, practical, functional, protection from the forces of nature. Kind of sad to think of it that way.

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is a movie that shows confident command of moviemaking resources, it was a big hit when first released and holds up extremely well today. Michel Legrand's lush score is a little schmaltzy for my taste, but hey--that's just me. Besides, love songs do tend to be schmaltzy anyway, and The Umbrellas of Cherbourg is basically a love song. A two-hour love song. I warmed to the music eventually anyway; it's pleasant though not especially memorable, save for the main theme which will probably be stuck in my head for a long time to come. And if the music doesn't get you the eye-popping colours and designs will; eye candy that makes the bittersweet truth go down easily.

 

[kihei]

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964) Directed by Jacques Demy

I completely hated this ice-wine sweet, sentimental French romance when I first saw it. However, with age comes the realization that indignation is a largely wasted currency and besides it should be reserved for things that really deserve one's ire, of which there is no shortage of more serious items these days. I am not a great fan of Jacques Demy but I think there are few directors who could pull this movie off without overplaying his hand. There is not an ounce of cynicism in the movie. The tale is an old one but played absolutely straight. A couple fall in love, she gets pregnant and then time and circumstance pull them apart. Usually there is someone to blame, but not here, not really--life just sort of gets in the way. What is bittersweet about the film is balanced by the candy-coloured sets and imaginative mise en scene. The wall paper and wardrobes on display temper the possibility of despair with whimsy and with the notion, never directly stated, that it is far better to suffer the vicissitudes of love than to go through life without experiencing it at all. That all this is sung in recitative like a lightweight opera adds to the movie's peculiar charm. Infrequently a real tune emerges, including one admittedly saccharine beauty that provides melancholy and longing with the perfect melody. That being said, I couldn't help but remember a Paul Simon line from one of his songs that sums up everything more simply and more elegantly, "Love emerges, and it disappears." Thankfully in The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, the disappearance is not for long.

Note: The Umbrellas of Cherbourg was the film that introduced the world to a young Catherine Deneuve. Her role is not challenging, but she handles it well enough. Sure is pretty, though. And on her way to becoming Helen of Troy beautiful.

 

[Spring in Fialta]

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964) - Visually-pleasing and great clothes. Outside of that, nothing else really worked for me. I guess I'll somewhat give it credit for not going with The Notebook's ending, but that is just setting the bar extremely low. I loved the quaint sets, and it's really all that kept me watching until the end. I found the musical aspect spectacularly grating and without added value. The actual soundtrack wasn't bad, though. The actors, who aren't great to begin with, have little to work with. The odd line worked, I suppose. There was some unintentional amusement, though. The character's moods sometimes changed on a whim, and the subsequent dialogue became dickish in awkward ways (for example, Guy telling his aunt that who he's going on a date with his none of her business. Or Genevieve's mother throughout essentially the entire film.) Guy's denouement following his return from war felt particularly rushed, and his mannerisms cartoonish (broodily and weakly kicking an empty box as he walked to the nostalgic bar after losing his job. Forgetfully leaving a large denomination to the bartender right after a forced argument about the change). It's quite simple for me: the director's appealing, cutesy style isn't able to save the film from its script and performances. The editing isn't always great either, flunking particularly during Guy's downward spiral. The way it jumps from tragedy to tragedy in a couple of minutes was garrish. You never have the time to indulge any of it. Nothing against the recommendation or the folks who enjoy the film, I just can't get past its flaws, even if I understand the appeal.

Edit: The opening shot was great. I loved the way the viewer gets to watch the rain fall from an upwards vintage point. There was another where rosy leaves and flowers are shown from the ground up. Those were quite nice.

 

[Spring in Fialta]

Uh...so I see that it's my film this week, therefore my turn to make a pick. If you guys don't mind, I'll put it up to a vote. I'm undecided between Francis Ford Coppola's Tetro (2009) and Woody Allen's Zelig (1983). Which one would you guys be more interested in?

 

[KallioWeHardlyKnewYe]

Uh...so I see that it's my film this week, therefore my turn to make a pick. If you guys don't mind, I'll put it up to a vote. I'm undecided between Francis Ford Coppola's Tetro (2009) and Woody Allen's Zelig (1983). Which one would you guys be more interested in?

Hmmm. I truly do not have a preference. Have seen one of the two and recall it to be interesting... but I am not going to tell you which one.

 

[kihei]

You pick, Amerika.. I love suspense.

 

[Pranzo Oltranzista]

Well:
Zelig: 9/10
Tetro: 6/10, but it has Vincent Gallo

 

[Spring in Fialta]

Well:
Zelig: 9/10
Tetro: 6/10, but it has Vincent Gallo

I'm a great fan of Vincent Gallo's acting and all-around talent as well. Considering it's probably the lesser seen film of the two, my pick will be Coppola's Tetro, even if I consider Zelig the stronger film.

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

Was going to vote Tetro. I've seen Zelig--a thousand years ago--and while I wouldn't mind a re-watch, I've never seen Tetro at all. In fact, never heard of it. I don't think I could have named a FF Coppola film post-Godfather III. (And maybe there's a good reason for that...)

 

[Ralph Spoilsport]

Adapted from a stage play (no kidding…the whole movie takes place in a single room), The Sunset Limited is the story of the battle for a man's soul--if such a thing actually exists. Not exactly "good vs. evil" but rather "faith vs nihilism". God facing the abyss.

Samuel L. Jackson is Black and Tommy Lee Jones is White (no kidding…), they play an ex-con turned Jesus freak and skeptical professor respectively. During the course of a night Black tries to talk the fear of God into White after spoiling his attempt at committing suicide by jumping in front of an aptly-named train, The Sunset Limited. (A nice touch, but I wonder what would it mean if White misread the train schedule and tried to jump in front of the Orange Blossom Special instead?) On stage, what follows is like a verbal chess match (well, White did make the first move, albeit pre-curtain) with each contestant debating the merits of salvation and trying to out-reason and out-manoeuvre their opponent while avoiding capture in the proverbial trick-bag. On screen it becomes more like a boxing match. In theatre rooms only have three walls, but here the enclosed space is tightened and more claustrophobic, and no one leaves until there's a decision.

The Sunset Limited does well to never leave this space; I'll bet many directors would be tempted to do otherwise, if only to make the movie less "stagey" or more feature-length. Insert flashbacks to illustrate the stories the actors are telling. Or maybe a prologue showing the incident at the train station. But no, not even an establishing shot of Black's tenement building. The Sunset Limited keeps the emphasis where it should be--on the dialogue and the head to head matchup.

But good God even boxers take a breather between rounds, these two go at it with their yakity-yak mostly non-stop. I would have welcomed a few longer moments of contemplative silence here and there, if only to better absorb the words being thrown. (I have God tko'd on my scorecard, btw.)

 

[kihei]

The Sunset Limited (2011) Directed by Tommy Lee Jones

A stranger (Samuel L. Jackson) or maybe an angel or possibly a deranged person saves a depressed middle-aged man (Tommy Lee Jones) from committing suicide by jumping in front of the Sunset Limited, a speedy commuter train. Then they go back to the stranger's shabby apartment and discuss their conflicting beliefs for the rest of the night. So a one room set, only two actors--basically Sunset Limited is a filmed stage play tackling maybe the oldest of all propositions known to humankind--to be or not to be.

I was entertained for about an hour and then my attention drifted as the pair seemed to be just going over already hashed-through points. But the first hour was fun because Jones and Jackson got to show off their acting chops and they are both very fine actors. Jones is a study in world weariness--even talking seems to be an unwanted imposition on his lassitude. Yet talk he does, the existentialist versus the true believer. Jones with just a slight shift of inflection, a brief hesitation between words, or tiny adjustment of his gaze, can shade meaning in about a thousand wondrous ways. As he plays an intelligent man, a professor, the idea of discussing cosmic issues of existence with a stranger is nothing new, but he can't and won't disguise the degree to which he is done, done, done with living. In the end, well-intended religious belief proves no match for an intellect that knows exactly what it wants to do. Nihilism wins in straight sets, with not even a tie breaker required along the way.

"To be or not to be" never gets old. It is the biggest of big questions. While this play is no Doctor Faustus and drags a little toward the end, it still a worthy examination of what these days constitutes reasonable arguments for a man of faith and for a man of reason. As filmed stage plays go, especially one as unadorned as this one, it is a good night's serious entertainment, but such movies always have the same effect on me--I wish I could watch the play for real in a theatre. Given his self-imposed limitations, Jones doe a decent job of directing. Neither actor is allowed to declaim as though he were trying to reach the back row of the second balcony. This gives the debate a more intimate, more personal feel and both Jones and Jackson are well capable of adapting their performances to the more technological demands of the screen. Jackson, sure of his faith but still a bit perplexed by God's plan or lack thereof, has the more thankless role. There is little doubt that even with God's somewhat uncertain acquiescence, he has run up against an immovable object, but he soldiers on bravely, the alternative to his spirituality too bleak for him to consider for any length of time. This is perhaps the most serious flaw in the play--there is never any doubt that the Tommy Lee Jones' character will weaken and change his mind. That man has seen enough of the world and just longs for release. While that is true to character, it unfortunately brings up the question as to why he doesn't walk out of the room much sooner. Though I'm glad that he didn't as he is too much fun to watch act. In the end, even when religion is presented in a fashion free from hysteria as is done here, faith still seems a paltry charade in comparison with reason.