by Dean | Jun 10, 2019 | General
Adapted from a novel by Vitaliano Brancati which I did not much care for, the 1960 Italian film, Il Bell Antonio, is a work for which I care a lot.
It deals with an undeniably handsome man, Antonio (Marcello Mastroianni), reputed to be a stud but who is in reality, in the pre-Viagra days of the Sixties, impotent strictly with the women he loves. The Woman he loves is virginal Barbara Puglisi (Claudia Cardinale), picked by his parents because they need money and the Puglisis are rich. However, Barbara’s father needs an heir and Barbara, after she and Antonio marry, remains untouched. This agonizes Antonio’s parents—while the Puglisis gradually see an avenue for getting even richer, and it excludes Antonio.
Here, to be impotent in sex is to be impotent in status. The body cannot be too chaste or a family’s fortunes are affected. In truth, they are not affected without certain moral outrages springing up. The accusation made by a dying Puglisi elder against Antonio’s father, Don Alfio (Pierre Brasseur), is more serious and bothersome than Antonio’s impotence. A lack of wealth is allied with a lack of integrity. That Antonio profoundly loves Barbara matters not in the least. . . This deeply sad film was intelligently directed by Mauro Bolognini. Vernon Young correctly noted that his “shot selection is sensitive to mood,” and, indeed, the film is a jewel of such sensitivity. It is, moreover, a fine contribution to the body of classic foreign pictures of the late Fifties-early Sixties.
(In Italian with English subtitles)
by Dean | Jun 8, 2019 | General
It is harmful to the Netflix-produced romantic comedy, Always Be My Maybe (2019), that the female lead, Ali Wong, has no charm. Randall Park, the male lead, does, and so do a few of the other actors, notably the winsome Vivian Bang (as Jenny). But Wong is too worldly for charm—a real blow to a fundamentally good-natured movie. Often funny and even clever, it is nevertheless one of the most inconsequential comedies I’ve seen. It is utterly wispy, not even edgy. It would probably help if character here was more developed, more incisive, than it is.
by Dean | Jun 4, 2019 | General
The chief character in Eric Rohmer‘s French film, A Tale of Winter (1992, available on YouTube), Felicie (Charlotte Very) is a not-very-bright young woman who is “protected” by the supernatural, by God. She is protected in the sense of being granted a miracle of sorts.
But Felicie is no saint, and she says “Religion and I don’t get along.” She risks getting pregnant during a joyful romance with her beloved Charles, and pregnant she becomes. After foolishly losing track of Charles, she gets involved with two men at the same time, as though she is greedy. One of these men, Loic (Herve Furic), is a wishy-washy Catholic intellectual—unmarried when he probably shouldn’t be. Deeply fond of him, Felicie nevertheless does not love him (she loves Charles). And Felicie, without converting, seems to receive God’s favor. In a way—because in the film’s beginning footage she frolics unclothed with Charles—she is the naked pagan who turns into the blessed “Christian.”
With much, much talk, A Tale of Winter is another Rohmer film that demands a lot from a viewer, but it’s worth it. It is quiet and heartening, and in Luc Pages’s cinematography there is subdued, wintry prettiness. Charlotte Very is pretty too. Close to being one of Rohmer’s best films, Winter is, I think, simply too static but also rather lovable in spite of itself.
(In French with English subtitles)
by Dean | Jun 2, 2019 | Movies
Cover of Pride & Prejudice
Pride and Prejudice has been filmed again, this time by Joe Wright and with an ampersand in the title. Now it’s Pride & Prejudice (2005) and it stars Keira Knightley (of course) as Elizabeth Bennet and Matthew MacFadyen as Darcy. I learn from critic David Edelstein that “Wright has said in interviews that he approached the novel as a piece of gritty English social realism” (Slate.com), which is fine as long as Jane Austen’s themes do not get lost in the process. They don’t. Scriptwriter Deborah Moggach is steadfast in her focus on the pride and prejudice of the two chief characters, and decisively does the film reveal the slow empowerment of the middle class in late 18th-century England. For once I agree with Edelstein: the movie is very good. That social realism is reflected in the fine costumes and the even finer production design. Dario Marianelli’s music is gorgeous, and the directing more imaginative than arty.
Some praiseworthy scenes: (more…)
by Dean | May 31, 2019 | General
Directed by Jafar Panahi and written by the acclaimed filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami, the Iranian picture, The White Balloon (2005), is talky but brilliant. At the center here is the childish desire for a chubby, not a skinny, goldfish for an Iranian New Year’s celebration. A childish desire, this, because in fact it belongs to a child—seven-year-old Razieh (Aida Mohammed-Khani)—who lives with her parents and her brother Ali (Mohsen Khalifi) in Tehran.
Rezieh’s hard-working mother un-eagerly gives Razieh money with which to buy the goldfish, but the girl loses the money down a grate. Much of the film concerns the efforts of Razieh and her brother, aware of financial hardship, to retrieve the 500-toman note.
Though adorable, Razieh, like Ali, is being shaped by the prejudices of her society. She will probably never respect, as Ali does not, a man like the one she encounters and talks with: a non-Tehranian army conscript with an accent. And she will probably never smile on an Afghan person like the boy who sells balloons on the Tehran streets for a living, who, indeed, offers the kind of white balloon found enticing by Ali. But Ali never comments on the balloon since it is an Afghan boy who is selling it. It is clear that the film is saying that Iranian society is one of prejudice and loneliness—even that it is damaging: e.g., Ali may have been hit in the face by his father.
Years after seeing The White Balloon at the theatre, surprisingly I saw it for free on YouTube. Perfectly directed (with many a tight shot) and cleverly photographed, it is about children or childhood only on its surface. It is beautifully subtle.
(In Farsi with English subtitles)
