JimBell Blog

Why are neo-realist films (neo-neo-realist?) such as Goodbye Solo (2008) so difficult to understand? Goodbye Solo should be the rather straight-forward story of a buoyant, good-hearted cabbie, Solo (Suleymane Sy Savane), who tries to save a ride, William (Red West), from committing suicide. But trying to figure out what the film is saying is difficult. Why? For one thing, the film makers put a tremendous effort into making things looks real, and maybe they don’t put as much effort into making things meaningful. This suggestion is based on the assumption that you cannot do everything or else you get cognitive overload. In Goodbye Solo, the city of Winston-Salem is so vividly portrayed that it almost becomes a character. Long shots of deserted, down-at-heel streets create a slightly menacing atmosphere, and shots of humdrum motels foster an empty feeling, a sense of separation. The acting is equally realistic, with the actors showing the natural complexity of people. More specifically, Solo is helpful to the point of being aggressive. And he is always upbeat except when he crashes in moments of serious defeat and reflection. On the other hand, William is realistically extremely stubborn, resentful of someone barging into his life, and only subtlely softens under the pressure of friendship. As you’d expect, the plot is also a lot like real life, taking turns you don’t expect if you have the typical Hollywood movie template as your viewing framework.

When the movie suddenly ends, I’m left thinking, “Well, that was a fascinating slice of life, but like a slice out my life, what does it mean?” This question contains within it the seeds of a second reason these neo-realist films are difficult to understand: They strive to be like life, which is, in my experience, perplexing. Do Director or Scriptwriter comes up to me and says, “Hey, Jim, all that crap you just went through means that . . . “

So a lot of the work is left up to the viewer. As a reviewer of fims for friends and associates, I’m wary of putting too much of myself into movies. I shudder at idiosyncratic interpretations. As someone said about Freudian interpretations of movies and their ubiquitous phallic symbols, “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.” Goodbye Solo says, on the face of it, that compassion, generosity, and friendship sometimes does nothing for the person you’re trying to help. One spiritually-oriented reviewer said the movie shows “the difficulty of compassion,” and that is putting it mildly. In this case, it is more like futility. Do I need to support this more? After two weeks of wonderful friendship from Solo, William, as planned, throws himself off a cliff.

A third reason Goodbye Solo is difficult to understand is that the “in your face” meaning is not at all what the film says. A hint of this comes from the last lingering image of Solo and his stepdaughter standing in non-realistic triumphant fashion on Blowing Rock cliff. Another hint comes when we realize that, despite the title and the main plot line, the film is not just about Solo and William. It is also about Solo and his family and about Solo and his career. Solo’s family is a mess. His Mexican-American wife has booted him out largely because he is studying to become a flight attendant and, if he succeeds, will seldom be home. Yet Solo loves his step-daughter and has a great relationship with her. Solo’s career is also a mess. He does not particularly like driving a cab, but as a relatively new immigrant, it is the work he could find. He studies hard for his airline attendant’s examination and seems extremely well qualified, but he fails. Each of these three plot lines has a turning point. With William, it is when Solo decides to accept William’s wishes, live by their original agreement, and drive William to his jumping place. A tough defeat but one to accept. With his family, the turning point is when Solo asks his daughter to accompany him on the trip to Blowing Rock jump. Solo says he’s not strong enough to do it by himself. Looking on the positive side regarding his family lends strength. On the drive home from the jump, solo’s daughter asks if he’ll give the flight attendant’s exam another shot, and, still smarting from the failure, he says yes. Looking on the positive side regarding his career affirms Solo’s commitment to life. Now we see the theme emerging, but it hasn’t been easy.

Creating a neo-realist movie that is difficult to understand has its pluses and minuses. Viewers read the Rorschach ink blots any way they want; for example, “Goodbye Solo shows the unbridgeable gap between black and white Americans.”. Some viewers stop watching is exasperation as they “watch paint dry.” Some viewers just accept not getting it and move on the next, more predictable movie. Others struggle and throw up their hands in despair. To friends, some who enjoyed the film give reviews where they have to hide in poetry and vagueries that they loved the movie but cannot explain what it was about. I’m guessing the film makers put up with all of these drawbacks for the big Ah-ha! You ponder, struggle, maybe discuss the film or read reviews, and then suddenly—Ah ha!—you know why they made the film. Hard-won insight is much more powerful and valuable than a telegraphed message.

Under discussion:

Cheri  (2009)

Cheri (2009) is poorly made movie telling in a remote and detached manner the story of the love affair between a middle-aged prostitute and a spoiled young lover. We do not care much about Lea (Michelle Pfeiffer), although she seems a cut above the other courtesans. Cheri (Rupert Friend) is half her age: she is his unofficial godmother. He is a spoiled brat and womanizer, selfish and beautiful and quite immature. Now that we have characters we don’t like or care mush about, we are further distanced from their heartbreak by prominent and superficial music which contradicts the emotions we should be feeling. Having a staccato, bouncing score drown out a lover’s cries of anguish may epitomize the superficiality of the Belle Époque around 1900 in France, but it also distances the viewer. If that was not enough, we have the classic method of keeping viewers at arm’s length, the voice-over narration. The movie even ends with this narration, and I would be greatly surprised if you felt a twinge of sorrow for the tragedy it tells. Your consolation can be that the movie looks great—lush settings, great costumes, and Michelle Pfeiffer and Rupert Friend looking their best.

Under discussion:

Easy Virtue  (2009)

Easy Virtue (2008) got a difficult reception, but the movie almost works. You’d think it would work. It’s a breath of fresh air—a Noel Coward piece of wit and satire is a pleasant change from grunting super creatures. It has a good director—Stephan Elliot’s The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (1994) was a wonderful piece of Australiana. It has excellent actors—Kristin Scott Thomas, Colin Firth, and others. The English country estate is gorgeous and the cinematography does it justice. So why didn’t the movie work?

This frothy movie doesn’t get good until it gets serious. The first half of the movie is all giddiness and fluff. Although some viewers might find this tolerable or even amusing, I found it tiresome and then inconsequential, so I was set to not watch the second half. Okay, so the rich English aristocrat brings home a sexy American divorcee and the snotty family doesn’t like her much. But then suddenly the mother yells at her immature son saying that he is blind, oblivious, a disappointment: He should be running the estate and know that it is bankrupt. This revelation is followed shortly by the father explaining to the inquisitive American that he is not a happy camper because he led the men of his village into WWI and brought none of them home alive. Now the comedy of manners has some bite. If the serious element had come earlier, we would have laughed more knowing the depths the social wit subtly manifested.

Just when you’re liking the movie, the ending sort of flops. There’s a preachy, old-fashioned, Agatha Christie-style wrap up and analysis which is out of place and should have been rewritten and reshot. And then in the final scene—I won’t give away the somewhat surprise ending—the ambiguity is entirely unproductive. So struggling through the overly loud music, and the mumbled upper-class accents was, in the end, not worth it, but a few judicious changes would have made Easy Virtue a substantial delight.

Under discussion:

Film Name  Production Year

Easy Virtue (2008) got a difficult reception, but the movie almost works. You’d think it would work. It’s a breath of fresh air—a Noel Coward piece of wit and satire is a pleasant change from grunting super creatures. It has a good director—Stephan Elliot’s The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (1994) was a wonderful piece of Australiana. It has excellent actors—Kristin Scott Thomas, Colin Firth, and others. The English country estate is gorgeous and the cinematography does it justice. So why didn’t the movie work?

This frothy movie doesn’t get good until it gets serious. The first half of the movie is all giddiness and fluff. Although some viewers might find this tolerable or even amusing, I found it tiresome and then inconsequential, so I was set to not watch the second half. Okay, so the rich English aristocrat brings home a sexy American divorcee and the snotty family doesn’t like her much. But then suddenly the mother yells at her immature son saying that he is blind, oblivious, a disappointment: He should be running the estate and know that it is bankrupt. This revelation is followed shortly by the father explaining to the inquisitive American that he is not a happy camper because he led the men of his village into WWI and brought none of them home alive. Now the comedy of manners has some bite. If the serious element had come earlier, we would have laughed more knowing the depths the social wit subtly manifested.

Just when you’re liking the movie, the ending sort of flops. There’s a preachy, old-fashioned, Agatha Christie-style wrap up and analysis which is out of place and should have been rewritten and reshot. And then in the final scene—I won’t give away the somewhat surprise ending—the ambiguity is entirely unproductive. So struggling through the overly loud music, and the mumbled upper-class accents was, in the end, not worth it, but a few judicious changes would have made Easy Virtue a substantial delight.

Under discussion:

Film Name  Production Year

When I saw The French Connection (1971) years ago, I thought it was fantastic. When I rewatched it last night, I thought it was good but not that remarkable. In American film history, it holds a prominent place, partly as sparking gritty urban crime dramas. But how does it view in and of itself?

It’s probably worth mentioning, because we’d mention it for any film that never won a bunch of Academy awards, but the opening scene in France is incomprehensible. Some guy goes home and some other guy shoots him. Later we recognize the shooter as the accomplice (Marcel Brozzuffi) of the French drug smuggler, Alain (Frenando Rey). But we have to listen to the director’s commentary on DVD to learn that the victim was a French undercover agent.

The plot thereafter is easy to follow because it is largely a series of chase scenes, the most famous being Popeye Doyle’s (Gene Hackman) driving a “borrowed” car under the elevated train tracks as he chases the killer on the commuter train.

The strength of the film is its documentary style. Director Friedkin has a background in documentaries and was inspired by two European movies Breathless and Z which had a documentary look and feel. No sets were used, and the dirt and low light of New York creates a powerful sense of place.

The film is based on an actual case, and the Popeye Doyle in real life was an on-set adviser, and even appeared in the film. By sticking reasonably close to what went down, the film surprises with interesting details. For example, Doyle and his partner, Rosso (Roy Scheider), are having a drink in a well-known nightclub when they notice a young guy unknown to them spreading a lot of money around at a table with known gangsters. On an off-duty hunch, they follow him, and thus start the investigation that broke a major drug smuggling ring.

Director Friedkin tried to show the fine line between cop and criminal, a theme done much better in later movies such as Heat. It doesn’t work in The French Connection. Doyle appears to be an obsessive, brutalizing, racist cop, but we don’t get any insight into his character. Why is he obsessive? Not a clue. When he smashes people around and yells racist epithets at them during a raid on a bar, is he acting naturally or aiming for effect? Not a clue. The villain Alain appears to be a charming and cultured Frenchman, but we don’t know. He gives his young wife a gift, but we have no idea what motivated him. He dines in a fine New York restaurant, but we do not hear his conversation and so have no idea how to interpret this—extravagant decadence? or just another meal? or gourmet appreciation of the fine things in life? We also do not know what motivates the mastermind to smuggle heroin because he already owns a prosperous shipyard. The theme of the fine line between cop and criminal goes nowhere.

Still it’s a good movie with an energetic documentary style, a palpable inner city setting, and a dynamic and inventive sound track. It also gives a glimpse into police work before cell phones, GPS, and squads of human rights lawyers. It ends with shots of the criminals and how little time they did. It is not clear whether this is a film device or fact, but it is fact. It left me amazed at how much law enforcement work went into achieving a pyrrhic victory—a good chance there were behind the scenes payoffs.

Under discussion:

Tootsie  (1982)

Tootsie (2008) is a wonderful comedy, but it is dated. Sydney Pollock does a great directing job, and the cast is superb. But the one joke gets a bit tiresome. An unemployed, idealistic, and obnoxious actor (Dustin Hoffman) gets a job on a soap opera by pretending to be a woman. Then it is one awkward situation after another. Although the actor, Michael, does grow, we don’t see it until the final scene where he says he was a better man as a woman than he was as a man. This wraps up the dated theme: So many men are sexist pigs, and they need to get in touch with their feminine side to become better. Michael is a womanizer (we hear), the TV producer is a sexist, and the star of the soap opera comes on to all the women. The kindly old gent who falls for Michael/Dorothy insists men should be men and women should be women—roosters don’t lay eggs. All the women are struggling with these unenlightened men.. Arguably, the biggest revolution in our society in the last half century has been in women’s rights, and the situation today is substantially different than when Tootsie was made a quarter century ago.

Under discussion:

I've Loved You So Long...  (2008)

I’ve Loved You So Long (2008; France) is the story of how a woman released from prison after serving 15 years for a shocking murder slowly rehabilitates and fits back into society. Crucial to the process is her younger sister, Lea, who has to undergo some changes herself.

The main challenge the movie has to meet is how to get us excited about a woman who is clinically depressed, who is often described as not being there. It’s tough to make an interesting film about someone who isn’t interested in anything. I’ve Loved You So Long attempts to stimulate our interest in two way. One: Great acting by Kristen Scott Thomas as Juliette. Ironically, if she had acted sort of depressed, or depressed with suppressed energy, or lively but depressed about certain things, she would probably have been insufferable. But Juliette starts the film so seriously depressed that every fibre of her being is lifeless, even a puff on a cigarette perfunctory. Strangely, this is interesting. I started to ask how she got so depressed, how long would she remain like that, and would characters get sick of her even before I?  But, two, Juliette begins to change in fits and starts. This is an interesting process, even when she has relapses. I don’t actually know how realistic this process is, but it feels realistic.

Unfortunately, few actors support Scott Thomas’s superb performance. When Juliette goes to her first job interview, the working class boss dismisses her when she admits to murder, but his response is formulaic and perfunctory. Although the scene initially builds his character as a busy, no-nonsense guy, his reaction to Juliette is to make a plot point that ex-cons have a difficult time getting a job. He could have looked startled and said, Why did you do it!? Or he could have looked business-like and said, You won’t fit into our operation. But he says unconvincingly, Get out! Another example? Much later in the movie, Juliette is participating in one of those friends-get-together-in-a-villa parties the French seem to love, when the inebriated host turns on Juliette at the dinner table. He is supposed to be drunk but does not sound or act drunk. His dialogue is convoluted and fakey as it wends its way to challenging Juliette to reveal her background. It’s just not the stuff I imagine as realistic, and the speech could be written more convincingly by many. More importantly, the sister, Elsa Zylbe4rstein, is excellent in the upbeat scenes but artificial in some of the serious scenes. When she picks Juliette up from the lonely airport, she is vivacious and engaging when she gives a bemused 4-sentence summary of her life over the last 15 years. You like this perky young woman. In contrast, the “heavy” scenes are strained. For example, when Juliette finally talks about her crime, Elsa Zylberstein plays the scene paint-by-numbers—no natural reaction, so spontaneity, no natural body language, etc. You start to watch the poor acting rather than the scene.

At the same time, some actors turn in excellent performances. Lea’s oldest daughter is perfectly appropriate for parents who are both professors. And Juliette’s probation officer (Frederic Pierrot) shows his veteran chops by presenting a perfectly believable cop on the edge.

But even if all the acting and all the dialogue had been excellent, the plot would still have been disappointingly predictable. Do you think the depressed murderer will lighten up? Duh. Do you think “talking about” the crime will turn things around? Duh. Do you think that she will move out of her sister’s into a place of her own? Duh. Do you think her sister’s husband will eventually allow her to baby sit? Duh. Most important, do you think that her murder will turn out to have major extenuating circumstance? Duh!

There is one aspect of the movie that was not predictable for me, and it was the strong point. Juliette’s parole officer was an eccentric guy who wanted to talk about himself more than listen to her. Yet he skimmed over talk of his ex-wife and how she sent the children for visits like parcels. He talked of fountains, water, and the Orinoco River. Then he quietly shifted meetings to cafes, rather nice cafes. There is a very nice scene where he is trying to get personal but he and Juliette simply do not connect,. I’m not sure why, but I think they are too involved in their own little dramas. When Juliette next reports, a new cop briskly tells her to sign and get visit over with. Juliette’s original parole officer has shot himself. Juliette goes home and lies on the bed. One of the drawbacks of movies is that we do not know what she is think. I guess you could say one of the strengths of moving pictures is that we have to guess what she is thinking. I’m guessing it was a turning point for Juliette. She had completely missed his requests for love because she was so tied up in her own ‘problems” and so sure everything in the world was worthless. This whole episode—a minor character unexpectedly kills himself—is the strongest part of the film because it eschews the stereotypical plot.

Under discussion:

Killshot  (2008)

Killshot (2009)—In a nut shell, the plot is that a divorcing couple witness a Mafia related crime, and the two hitmen come after them even after the couple is put on the federal witness protection plan. What is demanded of this plot? Two main things. The two hit men have to be scary, and we have to like the targeted couple.

Oddly enough, some studio gossip and background bears on why this reasonably good film doesn’t quite work as well as it should. The Elmore Leonard novel was with the Weinsteins at Miramax way back in 1995. When shooting was completed with a different studio in 2006, reshooting began soon. As did re-editing—every scene with a corrupt cop was edited out once focus groups expressed their intense displeasure. Which leads us directly to the weakness of the movie—too much nitty gritty realism and not enough apple pie.

The two hit men are excellent. Mickey Rourke does a good job as the killer Indian. How refreshing to see a Native American as something other than a victim. The outstanding acting goes to Joseph Gordon-Levitt, the brilliant young actor with the hard-to-remember name. He is psychopathic or maybe just wildly ADHD or too cocky or too stupid or too hyped-up. But he is a stellar contrast to Bourke’s quiet, introverted killer. So the threat half of the equation is there.

But caring for the middle-aged couple who are the targets is much more difficult. Realistic, they are. But sympathetic, no. Well, first of all they are divorcing for typically vague reasons—she’s somehow somewhat dissatisfied, and she means it. He has hunting guns and gear everywhere. Who really cares what happens to these two strangers?

Wayne, the husband, turns out to be a very unusual guy. In a way it is surprising that they didn’t cut his part like they cut the corrupt cop (just joking). Wayne is a laid off steel worker who puts on a suit to look for a new job, walks into his wife’s real estate office at lunch time, and uses a crow bar to thwart a murder. She says thanks. He professes continuing love for his wife. She acknowledges this but says no thanks. He fights off a Mafia hit man with some help from his wife. All in a day’s work. She appreciates it, which is nice.

But really, we should have cared a lot more about the couple and their marriage, which ultimately supplied the emotional tension and impact in the movie. Sometimes a movie can be too nitty gritty for its own good.