Hiroshima mon amour (Alain Resnais)

7/24/15

3.5/4

Hiroshima was magnificent: impressionistic, minimalistic, with the grace and poignancy of modern film. It was a blissful and heartbreaking portrait of love, told by the poetic Resnais with a sublime artistic touch and an aching humanity. I'll have to watch this film again, to fully soak in all of its broad strokes, but I feel that I could watch it many more times, it is so enthralling in its intimacy. Hiroshima mon amour towers above The 400 Blows, which was so much less meaningful and had so much less aesthetic quality. I may never see 400 again, but I am already anxious to immerse again in Resnais' delicate bath of human emotion and connection.

Perhaps my expectations are low for Hiroshima mon amour. But comparing my experience of it to mine of other films for which I have the same expectations, I loved this film, and I have the feeling that this love is legitimate and will endure, independent of expectations. Here is one of my very best experiences of classic world cinema so far.

The 400 Blows (Francois Truffaut)

7/23/15

3/4

The 400 Blows was alright. At least it was valuable, as it usually is, seeing the world from a child's perspective, and the French setting also helped in making this a decent experience. I'm not sure what the aim of this film was, or whether it's just a chronicle. To me, the only thing to pull from it besides a simple enjoyment of immersion in French culture is a valuation of the juvenile state of mind. Where on the spectrum between Antoine and his parents is it most human to lie? The chances indicate that it's most true to our nature and generous to ourselves to be more on the side of Antoine's mindset, who values pure adventure and moment-by-moment endorphin-induction. But, as Truffaut seems to indicate, with such amorality is an inappropriate way to live. It's not a matter of "responsibility", as that term is only a product of modern society; rather, it is an essential question whether one cares truly about anything. It is possible that Antoine did not, and he was punished for his lack of conviction to anything by having his life partially taken from him.

However, it seems clear to me that the degree to which adults abandon childhood is vastly detrimental to their essential being. Without question I'd rather be Antoine than his parents or teachers, because the living situation hardly matters when one has a certain mindset. Antoine in a juvenile military camp is more free than the capitalistic adults in his life. I suppose capitalism itself is enslaving, not to mention the pressures of its implications around society.

The 400 Blows didn't cross me as a great film. It was a fine tale of adolescence, the kind of which nobody in today's society is deprived. I liked the child-first-person and the French language and setting. Most important is this film's role in my life as an entrance into a new genre. I like the idea of the New Wave... while this particular film underwhelmed, I can see a nice potential. 90 minute French films.... not a bad basis.

Dancer in the Dark (Lars von Trier)

7/22/15

4/4

This film is absolutely explosive. Lars von Trier is an inhuman genius, creating a picture of unfathomable proportions. Bjork is colossal. Here is one of my favorite performances of all time. The direction is amazing, the script and story enormously and brilliantly innovative, the lead character above almost any in cinema, in my opinion. As I have portrayed, the scale and power of this film are enough to obliterate expectations for what cinema can reach.

Dancer in the Dark blew me away.

1/2) Persona and The Seventh Seal

3) Shame

4) Cries and Whispers

5) Wild Strawberries

All were highly valuable cinematic experiences, most were profound cinematic experiences. None do I regret. Time has made Shame increasingly attractive, while Persona and The Seventh Seal are incidentally the two that I have seen twice (in some weak sense). Cries and Whispers was an immersive nighttime viewing, while Wild Strawberries was a tired nighttime viewing. All but Persona and Cries and Whispers have Max von Sydow, an actor I now love; all but The Seventh Seal and Wild Strawberries have Liv Ullman, an actress I now love; all but Shame and Cries and Whispers have Bibi Andersson, another actress I esteem highly. Bergman is now one of my favorite directors: although he hasn't connected with my humanity, as Cianfrance, Inarritu and others so easily do, he has consistently excited my mind and provided an atmosphere of supreme interest. I will surely revisit him, and in some time explore him even further. He is more reliable than Tarkovsky, it seems, at least with these films. They all hold a very unique and significant place in my catalogue.

My growing comfort with Bergman tells me that it's time to move on, as the most valuable experiences are those that put my mind where it does not belong. However, I am not saying that Bergman is easy for me, nor that I fully appreciate him. I have miles to move, especially with respect to quality thematic analysis. But I am comfortable with my enjoyment of these films, and since coherency is unnecessary to a degree, that comfort is big enough to merit my shift of focus, especially given how profoundly uncomfortable some other directors are. It's all about priorities: if I had no other movies to watch than Bergman, I would rewatch all of these films in an instant and in doing so waste no time and have a plethora of things to gain.

The Seventh Seal (Ingmar Bergman)

7/20/15

3.5/4

With the glorious Seventh Seal, I conclude my Bergman quintuplet and shall now focus more on other areas of cinema.

For me, The Seventh Seal is on par with Persona. It provided the experience original enough and affecting enough to negate its age and make its ideological feast worth going through.

I loved the chess sequences, the Death dialogue, the pitch-black humor, the haunting religious symbolism, each of the characters and performances..... This was my first Bergman film of the last four years or so, so as I return to it after seeing four others, I realize that it doesn't exactly fit into the Bergman atmospheric mold. The content is similar, but is somehow less idiosyncratic: it is one of his first films after all.

I'm not sure what I could say about this film, especially in regards to its philosophical landscape. I had a great experience with it, totally engaging, and I harbored a fairly strong appreciation for it-- something that was missing just a few months ago. I can't tell which of the two is my favorite Bergman film: both are incredibly enjoyable.

Solaris (Andrei Tarkovsky)

7/15/15

3/4

Solaris was tough. It shared much of Stalker's visual ambiguity, but had a more difficult premise and inner content. In most ways, it was a lot like that later Tarkovsky film. Style-wise and plot-wise, Stalker and Solaris are very close sister-films. Solaris also mirrored 2001 in some ways, of course.

But taken on its own, the film exhibited the strong theoretically-driven style of Tarkovsky, who takes an esoteric but moderate story and abstracts it to otherworldly levels. If these two films can represent the rest, he has a distinct style-- as singular as Bergman. Solaris could not have been made by anyone else into the film that it is, and while I don't understand it, I do believe in its greatness.

As for my experience, I will say that my subjectivity cannot yet cope with Tarkovsky. While it is not altogether unenjoyable (and in fact, Stalker passed me nicely), it is definitely inaccessible. However, I am intrigued by the compelling imagery, which is the essence of Tarkovsky's artistry. These bold strokes make me much more likely to hang on to these films, revisit them, and ultimately save a spot for them in my catalogue. I do believe that eventually I will really like these films-- probably Stalker over Solaris, due to its relative atmosphere and characters, but both are highly-valuable cinematic experiences because of their intense originality and definitive artistic greatness.

Wild Strawberries (Ingmar Bergman)

7/14/15

3/4

I didn't quite give Wild Strawberries its deserved attention, but I am able to see that this is a different Bergman film, and one I can enjoy but probably could never love. The film is a conglomeration of tones, ideas and techniques. It is one of his earliest acclaimed pieces, so it would seem that he's a young artist in total creative exploration, like Woody Allen in Annie Hall, were it not for The Seventh Seal, with which it shares 1957. Indeed, I felt a strong Annie Hall rhythm coming off of this scattered, motion-oriented picture. Odd characters and situations flew by without having the weight that they have in real life; dark philosophies were interrupted by nonsensical whimsy, giving the film the light tone that Annie Hall had despite both films' absurdist, isolated, nihilistic convictions. This wasn't as funny as Annie Hall, but seeing any humor in a Bergman film would be a surprise.

While I don't trust that I grasped the overall objective of the film well, I did enjoy the non-stop flurry of ideas from Bergman, and appreciated the atmosphere for what it was. I suppose it's closer to Crimes and Misdemeanors, with its aging lead character and scenes of darkness. There were some good-quality unsettling moments; specifically, the dream early in the film blew me away. It showcased Bergman's psychological skill, with how well he created an atmosphere despite his era's primitivity.

This is a strange movie, one that is hard to fully "get" -- and there is no better word -- due to its choppy pacing and collection of ideas. However, the ideas were there, and there was significant skill exhibited by the auter; the reason I could probably never love this is because of its lack of great characters, but the movie was of solid enjoyability and reward.

The Tree of Life (Terrence Malick)

7/11/15

4/4

With a second viewing, The Tree of Life moves into my definitive handful of films, representing that side of my cinema which comes closest to pure art and divine beauty. Again, I appreciated the first movement far more than the second. That first section is, conceptually and aesthetically, pure insanity; the highest art I have ever come across in film. As I explained in my last review, it is true poetry.

This film is untouchably beautiful, so far ahead of the rest of the world. It will live on for me as a sublimely minimalistic and meditative monument to humanity and its endeavors.

Seven Samurai (Akira Kurosawa)

7/11/15

3/4

Akira Kurosawa must have defined, and essentially created, Japanese cinema. That's my explanation for the legacy of these films of his, three of which I've seen: Ikiru, Rashomon, and now Seven Samurai. Seven Samurai felt like classic Hollywood; something like a Japanese Gone with the Wind or Titanic. It was the monumental, culture-constructing epic that defined its national film industry for years to come. At least that's my guess. It thus wasn't as I expected: it wasn't very intellectual, didn't feel like "high art". It did feel like a great movie, a spectacular one in fact, and so I still have high regard for Kurosawa, but he hasn't shown up as the genius intellectual that I expected given his reputation.

Nevertheless, my lasting impression given by his Seven Samurai, named by Empire as the greatest film of world cinema, is this: here is a truly enjoyable and accessibly great Japanese film! I was surprised to find characters I could empathize with, some appealing humor, and some actors who wouldn't be totally lost in modern-day realism! The much-disdained Rashomon-style acting is certainly present, but my realization was that that's only slightly the underlying culture for 1950's Japanese acting: the characters in which it's extremely present are I think intentional overactors. Rashomon's "bandit", I think, pops up here and has exactly the same mannerisms, but it's mostly just him who behaves like that. Others have other charicatures, but then there are some actors, like the lead in Ikiru who ends up being the most prominent feature here, who are composed and relatable.

Therefore, I no longer find it appropriate to generalize that all of old Japanese film is depressingly overacted and inaccessible. Seven Samurai provided quality enjoyment for all of its 3 1/2 hours, ending with a decisively impeccable shot. Unfortunately, nothing in the film beforehand was so artistically sublime, but the film as a whole was easy to appreciate and experience. A great film.



Okay, this is much better than Titanic, and I'm sure it's much better than Gone with the Wind. Seven Samurai trumps Hollywood, by far, in my mind. The essence of my point was that this film doesn't bask in philosophy, nor transcendental experience, as Bergman does. Seven Samurai was a terrific film, as a film. Not as high art. Yet this doesn't demean it for me: it is a monster in my mind, both for its length and its impact. Hollywood has not produced anything that I respect this much.

Cries and Whispers (Ingmar Bergman)

7/3/15

3/4

I liked Cries and Whispers a lot. I loved Liv Ullman again, this time as a somewhat empty damsel. The aesthetic was tantalizing and somewhat terrifying. The plot was intriguing and shocking in some regards. I didn't recover very much philosophy from the film, other than the reliable Bergman bleakness, but there were moments shocking enough, visual or conceptual motifs engaging enough, and characters fascinating enough that this film struck me. [At the top of the list of things are the screaming from Agnes, the blood-red walls and scene transitions, the "whispers" shots with naked character faces, the Anna character, and the amazing scene near the end when Agnes calls again]. The four women give brutal and vulnerable performances in a film highly unsettling and made with a few strokes of brilliance.