jklugman

Under discussion:

The Set-Up  (1949)

This film is only loosely related to film noirs in a narrative sense.  Robert Ryan plays a down-on-his-luck boxer who insists he can win his latest fight.  Unbeknowest to him, his manager,  Tiny, has agreed that he will take a fall in the third round.  Tiny doesn't tell Ryan's character because he wants to pocket the money himself.  You can see what happens--due to forces outside of his control, Ryan meets a tragic end.  Unlike in many other film noirs, the hero is not taken in by his own stupidity or the seductive wiles of a femme fatale.  

But visually speaking, the film is very much a film noir, and comes the closest to German expressionism.  Wise frames Ryan so that he is swallowed up by his dark surroundings.  Wise also uses the camera to indict the brutal sport of boxing and its spectators.

 Aside from the beautiful mise-en-scene, I loved watching the film.  Robert Ryan makes a sympathetic portrait of a loser boxer, and Wise ratchets up  the tension during the boxing match--I was simultaneously repelled by the sport but also rooting for Ryan.  

Under discussion:

The Bubble  (2007)

I guess I did not find The Bubble very compelling mainly because for the first 90 minutes it felt like a Friends episode, as it follows a group of good-looking, young friends who live in Tel Aviv.  These stories always kind of aggravate me, because it is as if I was part of a larger group of friends who have their own in-jokes and expect me to laugh and play along because they're so hip and cool. I guess Fox is trying to be critical of these people for not doing more to break out of their "bubble", but I felt this got overshadowed by the romantic and sexual shenanigans of the protagonists. 

To be fair, the actors playing Noam (Ohad Knoller), Lulu (Daniela Virtzer), and Ashraf (Joe Sweid) did a good job fleshing their characters out and making them likeable and sympathethic.

In the last twenty minutes the film dramatically switches gears as it lays bear the tragedy of the characters' lives--and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict--with the subtlety of a jackhammer.

Under discussion:

Under Capricorn  (1949)

While the film throws out a few red herrings at the beginning to make the viewer believe that this is a Gaslight-type thriller, for a Hitchcock film the mystery and suspense elements are quite subdued, making this more a historical drama than anything else.  The plot is propelled not so much by the actions of malicious characters (although there is some of that) but also by the misunderstandings among the non-bad characters about each other's past and intentions.  The movie frustrated me because these non-bad characters seemed to deliberately mislead other characters and the viewer for no other reason than to propel the plot along, so the ensuing tension feels artificial, as does the you-can't-run-from-the-past theme.  This isn't helped  by the forgettable performance of Michael Wilding, who frankly is a rather bland hero.  

 Under Capricorn is unusual for a Hitchcock film in that it explicitly  takes on the role of class  and examines how class distinctions can trap people and make them unhappy.

The setting was also very drab--the colors, especially in interiors, felt washed out.  I don't know if this was the fault of the filmmaker, or aging, or that of the transfer ( I saw the Image DVD edition of this film).  Because the plot is so boring, I don't think Hitchcock was able to flex his directorial talents very much.  The only thing that really stands out is an impressive long take where the camera follows Wilding around Joseph Cotton's estate as he is introduced to the other guests.

Under discussion:

The Namesake  (2007)

The Namesake is a family drama that follows a Bengali-American family (the Gangulis) from the parents' courtship in India, move to New York City, and birth and life of their son, Gogol (played by Kal Penn).  The film explores the tensions between tradition  and assimilation, and between autonomy and family life.  

 Unfortunately I do not believe the film addresses these issues in a particularly interesting way, namely because of its focus on Gogol's coming of age and maturation.  Gogol transforms from being obnoxious and self-absorbed to being a good guy who cares about his mama and his Bengali heritage.  I didn't buy  Kal Penn's performance, and I didn't buy how profound his character's self-realization was.  I couldn't shake the feeling that I had seen this kind of story many, many times before.

 On the plus side, the  actors who play the parents do a marvelous job (Irfan Khan as Ashoke, the father, and Tabu as Ashima, the mother).  I think their characters' story would have been a more interesting movie than Gogol's.  

Under discussion:

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde  (1931)

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is an emotionally charged film.  Fredric March plays Henry Jekyll, a physician who has it all: he's born into wealth; engaged to the beautiful Muriel Carew (Rose Hobart); he tends to the poor, and is beloved by his patients.  But you know the story: Jekyll is overconfident that he understands human nature, develops a concoction to separate and distill the good and evil natures in each person, but the concoction leads him to be consumed by his Hyde persona.  March is convincing as Jekyll who is at turns kind, impetuous, arrogant, and penitent.  But he is really fun to watch as the cackling, sneering, brutal Hyde.  The actresses who play the "good Jekyll woman" (Hobart as Carew) and the "bad Hyde woman" (Miriam Hopkins as a working-class prostitute) really make the film work though, because it is how Jekyll/Hyde inflict pain on the women he loves that really drives home the tragedy of the film.  I felt touched by Hopkins' performance--her character lusts after the good Jekyll but she is brutalized by Hyde and she realizes too late that rescue by Jekyll is not possible. 

 The film is marred by occassional scenes that come off a bit corny and florid to a 21st century audience.  I also thought that Mamoulian's extensive use of subjective photography, especially in the opening scene--verged on being gimmicky and ostentatious.

A couple of other things noteworthy about the film:  It was pretty racy for its time.  Namely, the scene where Hopkins lays in bed with Jekyll in her apartment and it is strongly implied she striped naked to seduce him.  

 One of the most powerful scenes I thought was where Jekyll goes to his fiancee to "set her free", as he does so, the enormity of what he's done dawns on him.  This is a man starring into the abyss.

Under discussion:

Sunrise  (1927)

Intermezzo  (1936)

Intermezzo is famous for being the first film where Ingrid Bergman had a starring role.  It is also a very mediocre film; I cannot imagine that it would live on today in VHS and DVD releases if Ingrid Bergman had not become a famous film performer.

The film is about a famous violinist (Gösta Ekman) in Stockholm who falls in love with a up-and-coming pianist (Bergman).  He leaves his wife and children to have an affair with her as they travel around Europe.  Both Bergman and Ekman begin to have second doubts about their affair; ultimately Bergman goes to study in France and Ekman returns to his wife and children.  Ekman and his wife reunite, their relationship strengthened after going through a traumatic and life-threatning experience.

This is a very conventional story, with a conventional moral, and is shot in a very conventional way.  Visually the film is pretty forgettable.  The most memorable shot is early on in the film, when Ekman and Bergman face each other while walking at night in Stockholm.  The corner of a large building sticks out prominently in the background, as if it represents some kind of barrier or line between the two.  Ekman's acting is pretty stiff and it is hard to believe that Bergman's character would fall so deeply in love with such a drip.  The film comes off as very preachy, trying hard to extol the virtues of family life (I've seen another one of Bergman's 1930s Swedish films--Walpurgis Nights--and it too has a very preachy, pro-family tone).

What is really striking to me is that Intermezzo's dramatic arc is similar to a F. W. Murnau's Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, made in 1927 in the United States.  Sunrise is also about a wayward husband who gets disenchanted with married life, is tempted by another woman, nearly wrecks his relationship with his wife, but the couple reconcile and their relationship ends up being stronger after going through a traumatic experience.  But Sunrise is so, so much better than Intermezzo.  Murnau creates a dream-like vision that gives the story a sense of being a universal fable.  Murnau is talking about the human condition.  Gustaf Molander (the director of Intermezzo) is giving the family values crowd a soap opera.  

I am no classical music expert (or enthusiast) but since Intermezzo is about a violinist and a pianist, music does play a significant role in the film, and I found it utterly non-compelling.  Timothy Brock's score for Sunrise (available on the DVD)  contributes to its bittersweet and reflective tone.

Under discussion:

For Whom the Bell Tolls  (1943)

For Whom the Bell Tolls has an interesting story which the synopsis here does not do justice.  Gary Cooper and the guerilla band he's allied with realize that the chances of successfully bombing the bridge without sacrificing their own lives are diminishing with every setback, and Cooper has to deal with the tension between following his duty to the Spanish Republic and his romance with Maria.

Unfortunately, the film can't live up to this story.  While Cooper's character has found a new purpose and source of joy in his relationship with Maria, Cooper plays him like Captain America, and there is no question he will follow his orders, even if it means his death.  The one scene that had the most emotional impact for me (where some trapped guerillas lure an arrogant Nationalist officer out so they can kill him) did not involve Cooper or Bergman at all. 

The dialogue is corny--I especially winced at Ingrid Bergman's lines, where she talks about how much she loves Robert Jordan and how much she can't wait to take care of him, etc. etc.  I really hope this came from the screenwriter and not Hemingway.

 In short, even though the Spanish Republic and the lives of  Cooper's and Bergman's characters are in extreme danger, the acting and dialogue prevented me from really caring.  

 The score by Victor Young was also fairly repetitive and obtrusive.  It felt as if the filmmakers were desperately pleading with the audience to feel sad for the Republican guerrillas.

In other regards the film is competently done, for its time period.  The production values are excellent, so for the most part I could buy that Jordan was in mountainous Spain.  None of the people playing the Spanish guerillas were actually Spanish, but that didn't bother me.