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CinemaRian Blog

  • Hamlet (1948, Great Britain, Sir Laurence Olivier) ***

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    Hamlet  (1948)

    Sir Laurence Olivier's Hamlet is a brilliant, difficult, and to a degree, unreasonably dark movie. It's hard to deny that the picture works, but by the end, you wonder if the journey was really worth taking, as this must be one of the most effectively gloomy films ever committed to celluloid.

    It's impossible to watch Olivier's film and not compare it to the numerous other screen adaptations of Shakespeare's most famous play, most notably the 1996 masterpiece by Kenneth Branagh. Branagh is not a better actor than Olivier (only Marlon Brando could possibly hold that title), but he made a movie that was brimming with the energy of life, one that fully explored the metaphysical concepts in the original play.

    Olivier's goals are more mundane- he's most interested in the psychological and archetypical elements of the play, so the movie is far shorter than Branagh's and its smaller in scope. More than one critic has referred to the settings as claustrophobic. It's as if these characters exist in an entire world unto themselves- an interior world, with a lot of fog and humidity. There is no escape from this dysfunctional family- there is literally no where to go.

    Despite the opening narration, Olivier interprets Hamlet's problem as not so much being unable to make up his mind as much his being unable to function as an adult. He has genuine love for his mother Gertrude (Eileen Herle) and late father (significantly, voiced by Olivier). But it's the love of a young child who worships his god-like parents. Hamlet's problem is not that he's poorly negotiated the inevitable separation trauma because he's never separated- at least while his father was still alive.

    This is made exceedingly clear by the film's most dominant relationship, between Hamlet and his mother. It's significant that Herle was born thirteen years after than Olivier. The fact that Gertrude is so young and that Hamlet feels such affection for her is made obvious, and this makes his hatred of Claudius (Basil Sydney) even more basic and primitive. This was an interesting approach to take, but it means that Hamlet's relationship with other characters suffer. The quasi-romance between the prince and Ophelia (Jean Simmons) is DOA, and his friendship with Horatio (Norman Wooland) is undeveloped as well.

    And although Olivier's performance is of course brilliant (you can bet he deserved the Best Actor Oscar he won), I was ambivalent about many of his directorial choices. The intellectual tone of the picture, combined with the sadness and angst in the movie's atmosphere, make for a movie that is obviously made a genius, but also one that is at times difficult to sit through. The movie is rarely boring, but after spending more than an hour with these super-serious people and their Freudian problems I was ready for it to lighten up a bit and it never did.

    This is where Olivier's film suffers the most in comparison to Branagh's. The contemporary film had such an energy to it, that even in the more tragic moments you felt that at least the characters were really alive. In this picture, it's as if they are hypnotized, waiting for their psychologist to wake them up and send them to a more lively world.

    Hamlet (1948)


  • Secrets of a Soul (1925, Germany, G.W. Pabst) **1/2

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    Based on the title, you should expect a lot from Secrets of a Soul. After all, hasn't mankind been searching for the secrets of the soul since time immemorial? But alas, the "secrets" we find are actually just a lot Freudian psychobabble. A better title would be Secrets of the Id.

    According to the helpful special features that accompany the Kino DVD, Ufa studios and director G.W. Pabst were genuinely interested in making a film based on Freud's theories and even tried to hire the shrink himself to be a consultant on the picture, but Siggy declined. They did manage to convince his disciples Karl Abraham and Hans Sachs to serve as consultants, and, according to some sources, even rewrite the script. I find that idea plausible as the movie is structured more like a case study than an actual narrative.

    After an intertitle informs us that "no important factual information has been changed", the story begins. Martin Fellman (Werner Krauss) is a seemingly typical middle aged chemist who is content with life. His wife (Ruth Weyher) is good catch- she genuinely cares for him and is a lot younger and hotter than he is. One day he receives word that his cousin Erich (Jack Trevor) will be visiting. That day, Martin is shaving the back of his wife's neck when they hear a commotion from the street- someone is murdering a young woman with a knife.

    From that point forward, Martin has serious problems. He is unable to hold a knife, even to cut food to eat with, and when ever his wife is around blades he has an overwhelming desire to kill her. Finally, this interferes with his job (as he starts dropping beakers with chemicals in them) and he visits his local psychologist, Dr. Orth (Pavel Pavlov), who of course solves his problem.

    Howe exactly Dr. Orth does this I am not sure. A movie like this is essentially a mystery, so we expect a lengthy explanation from the good doctor that will probably include a reference to Martin's mother. However, all we are told is that the problem is somehow tied to Erich. Okay, but how? This is somewhat like Sherlock Holmes identifying the criminal, but never explaining why or how the bad guy did it.

    The movie alternates between a fairly classical style in which Martin goes through his daily life and his nightmares and memories, which are shot in a very metaphorical, expressionist style. These sequences are kind of weird but also kind of funny, which is how a lot of modern psychologists think of Freud's theories, making the movie a period piece that has little relevance today. And am I the only who finds it ironic they hired a guy named Pavlov to play the therapist? Woof, woof.

    Geheimnisse einer Seele (1925)


  • Man of a Thousand Faces (1957, USA, Joseph Pevney) **

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    The life of Lon Chaney, Sr. does not easily lend itself to a biopic. For one thing, a great deal is not known about his personal life, and little of what we do know is not dramatically interesting enough to make a movie. The actor was genius, perhaps the greatest of the silent era, and certainly it's greatest makeup artist, but he apparently had enough self-awareness to not believe his own publicity and buy into the movie star myths that destroyed the lives of so many other stars.

    The fact that the life of a man so talented could be apparently so mundane is a problem for a biopic, so Man of a Thousand Faces feels free to add typical biopic cliches and pointless subplots. It milks the two really interesting things about the personal life of Chaney (played here by James Cagney) for all their worth. The first is the fact that his parents were deaf, which was certainly helpful in the training of a silent screen actor. The second is that his first wife, Cleva (Dorothy Malone) attempted suicide, which prompted Chaney to relocate to L.A. just as movies were beginning to be accepted as an art form.

    But although this movie is about an actor, it doesn't demonstrate any real knowledge of acting. We are told repeatedly that the movie's Chaney had a sympathy for people who were "born different". Why? Because his parent's were deaf? Although growing up in an environment of visual communication must have helped him (and it would be interesting to see how), lots of people have deaf parents they are all not brilliant actors. What made Chaney so great?

    The movie does not even try to answer that question and instead spends a ridiculous amount of time dealing with his parents and their deafness, and according to this film, being hearing impaired is about one step above leprosy. An early scene shows Cleva so shocked and embarrassed at being around Chaney's parents that she runs out of the room at Christmas dinner and considers aborting her baby because he/she might be deaf. Come on! Does Joseph Pevney really expect the audience to sympathize with her?

    There's also all the obligatory Hollywood biopic scenes- the talent agent (Jim Backus, Mr. Howell from Gilligan's Island) suddenly comes up with a brilliant marketing campaign, hence the title of the film, Chaney stays late after midnight working on a makeup, hurting his marriage, Cleva comes back to talk to his second wife (Jane Greer), the deathbed reconciliation between father and son (which never happened, as they were never estranged).

    There are other problems with the movie too. When you are casting someone as a truly great actor you have basically two plausible choices. You can cast another truly great actor (Sir John Gielgud bore a resemblance to Chaney and would have been a great choice) or you can cast a total unknown the audience is unfamiliar with. Cagney was in many way a great actor, but he was not in Chaney's league and he was nowhere near as versatile. Cagney could never loose his frantic, speed-of-lighting energy, so it's hard to accepting as someone who apparently an introvert in his personal life. It's been written that Lon Chaney, Jr. was interested in playing his dad, and that also might have been an interesting choice.

    Finally, demonstrating just how great a makeup artist Chaney was, the recreations shot thirty years later are nowhere near as good Chaney's original designs. Watch the unmasking scene from The Phantom of the Opera and compare it to the version here you'll be stunned at just how good Chaney a makeup Chaney was able to do in 1925.

    Making a film about a great actor is not a bad idea, but Man of a Thousand Faces was ill conceived from the beginning, and the mistakes continued right through post-production. The final film is not terrible, but it's predictable, maudlin, a few steps below mediocre, which is the kind of movie that the real Lon Chaney, Sr. would have had nothing to do with.

    Man of a Thousand Faces (1957)


  • The Dark Knight (2008, USA, Christopher Nolan) ****

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    The Dark Knight  (2008)

    The Dark Knight is easily the best superhero movie ever made, surpassing even the original Superman. It manages to walk the tightrope of having a weightiness of tone and purpose without falling into the ridiculousness often found in comic book movies that take themselves too seriously- and very few summer blockbusters are as serious (or profound) as this one.

    I believe that with this picture Christopher Nolan is asking a question regarding the nature of goodness. There is no doubt that the Joker (the late Heath Ledger) is evil, but is the Batman (Christian Bale) really heroic? Or is the real hero D.A. Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckert) who uses the law to capture the bad guys, in the open, and who is also capable of carrying on normal relationships with other people?

    The fact that the Joker is evil does not mean that he is a one-note character. There has been a lot of talk about Ledger getting a Best Supporting Actor nomination for his performance here, all of which is certainly deserved. It is instructive to compare Ledger’s performances to Jack Nicholson’s in Tim Burton’s 1989 version. There is a key difference- Nicholson was great, but it was a movie star performance. He was essentially playing his own persona as the Joker. Here Ledger creates a psychologically realistic portrait of what the Joker must be in real life, were he to really exist. He’s funny, but you laugh in spite of yourself, because the character is genuinely menacing and unnevering. You laughed along with Nicholson, but there is no cutesiness here, only a psychopath. It is a truly brilliant performance.

    The same psychology can also be applied to Bale’s Batman. It is a portrait of total obsession. He does so much good as his Batman persona that he is unable to be good, or much of anything else, as Bruce Wayne. In the end, I feel that this movie’s Batman is truly altruistic and heroic, but others who saw the movie with me disagreed. But the title is accurate- Batman is always one step away from turning a need to help others into revenge to help himself.

    Aaron Eckert has never been one my favorite actors, but by the end of this film his Harvey Dent grows on you, and the tragedy that occurs (Batman fans will know what it is) becomes truly devastating. The rest of the cast, which includes big named like Morgan Freeman, Gary Oldman, and Michael Caine, are also great. The one weak character in the film is Maggie Gyllenhaal’s Rachel Dawes. I felt that this character was poorly conceived in the first movie, when she was played by Katie Holmes, and the same is true here. Gyllenhaal is given even less to do, with less convincing motivation and she has hard time making the character real, or at times even interesting.

    But the one underwritten character is the only real flaw in what is clearly the best film of the year so far. Some may complain that the movie is not much fun, but this is a serious film, essentially an epic drama. There were many ways for The Dark Knight to fail, but it avoided all of them, and instead is a great work of cinematic art.

    The Dark Knight (2008)


  • Mark of the Vampire (1935, USA, Tod Browning) **1/2

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    The auteur theory was made for movies like Mark of the Vampire.  Taken as itself, it’s a mediocre horror movie with a few effective moments.  But seen as entry into its director’s larger body of work, it gets really interesting.

    The movie is a sound remake of Browning’s 1927 hit London After Midnight, perhaps the most famous of all lost films.  It’s considered by most to be the first American vampire film and featured a brilliant makeup job by Lon Chaney, Sr., which can still be seen in stills.  It’s obviously impossible to make any real comparison as the quality between the two films, but the basic plot of the original maintained.

    Another Browning film we do have left to compare is his 1931 masterpiece Dracula, which also stars Bela Lugosi as a vampire (here he’s called Count Mora and has a vampire daughter named Luna, played by Carroll Borland).  David J. Skal and others have argued that Browning was disinterested in the Dracula project, and some have speculated by the real auteur may have been cinematographer Karl Fruend, who would go on to direct another masterpiece with a similar style and tone, The Mummy.  I found this theory plausible but after watching Mark of the Vampire I am not so sure that Browning had as little to as Skal claimed, as there many elements of the movie that are taken directly from Dracula, right down the appearance of the female lead, Elizabeth Allen, who not only bears a striking resemblance to Helen Chandler, but has her costumes and hairstyle duplicated exactly.  There is also a Van Helsing like vampire hunter named Professor Zelen (Lionel Barrymore), a sequence where Count Mora rises from his coffin that’s very, very similar to Dracula’s entrance, and film’s comic relief has the exact same brand of humor, as all of Browning’s other films.

    Where Mark of the Vampire and Dracula differ is in tone and quality- the former film is essentially a mystery with a heavy emphasis on plot on rationality, the latter simulates the feeling of a dream more than any film I ever seen.  One is literal, the other is mythic.  Frankly, one is shallow, the other deep. 

    Most viewers will probably feel that the London After Midnight elements (except perhaps for the amazing surprise ending) are the movie’s weakest.  Set in Czechoslovakia (what was wrong with Prauge After Midnight?), the movie follows Zelen and Inspector Neumann (Lionel Atwill) as they investigate the murder of Sir Karell Borotyn (Holmes Herbert), who was found with two bite marks on his throat.  Neumann believes vampires are ridiculous, but Zelen argues that he sure they are to blame, and that Count Mora and Luna are stalking Karrell’s daughter Irene (Allen). 

    The machinations of the mystery are pretty boring, but the film lights up whenever Mora and Luna are on screen, there are some real scenes of great gothic atmosphere.  But then the movie gets too caught up in endless discussions of clues, motives, and other plot points, and after those elements take over, the movie gets boring.  But if you do see this picture, be sure you stay to the end, where’s you’re going to be amazed.   

    Mark of the Vampire (1935)


  • The Cameraman (1928, USA, Buster Keaton/Edward Sedgewick) ***1/2

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    The Cameraman  (1928)

    The Cameraman is regarded by many scholars as the last great Buster Keaton film.  It was the last movie he made where he had a majority of creative control over the project, even though his new contract at MGM meant the studio was already causing problems (there are no dangerous stunts).  But, to my surprise, I found the film to be very good, but not one of Keaton's masterpieces.

    The director's credit is given to Edward Sedgewick, but it's pretty obvious who the auteur of this movie is.  I have a feeling that, like most of his pictures, Keaton handled the scenes that he felt were important, and left some of the more basic expository stuff to his buddy Edward.  But unlike so many of his work, this does not flow like a perfectly constructed Bach composition.  It seems more like a collection scenes, strung together by a very basic plot outline.

    The basic plot involves still photographer named Luke Shannon (Keaton) who develops a crush on a girl named Sally (Marceline Day) who works as a secretary at the MGM newsreel office.  In an attempt to impress her, he goes to a pawn shop and trades for a movie camera, and attempts to find newsworthy subjects to film. 

    Despite the title, most of the movie involves Luke's attempts to win Sally- obsessively waiting by the phone, trying to share a bus ride when only one of them has a ticket, and so on.  Much of this is funny, but it's not sweet in the way that Keaton's relationships to women are in pictures like Seven Chances or Steamboat Bill, Jr.  

    The best scenes in the picture involve Luke trying to use his camera and making technical errors that cause his films to be unintentionally hilarious, such as a ship floating down a New York street.  Every one who has ever made a film can identify with the scene where Luke watches his footage dumbfounded. 

    But this movie is not as well as edited or structured as the director's (and I'm not talking about Sedgewick's) other work.  The movie doesn't really lead anywhere, and many of the bits could be randomly place throughout the movie and not make much difference. 

    At the risk of sounding like a total Keaton sycophant, this is not what we expect from the great stone face.  For Harold Lloyd, it would be second best film of his career.  For Chaplin, it would be his third or fourth best.  But coming from arguably the greatest filmmaker of his era, a genius on par with his contemporaries Griffith and Eisenstien, The Cameraman is a little disappointing.  But is it still worth seeing?  Most definitely.  

    The Cameraman (1928)


 

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