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Month: November 2012

Bell Book and Candle (1958)

Bell Book and Candle (1958)

“It might be pleasant to be humdrum once in a while.”

Synopsis:
A modern-day witch (Kim Novak) living “underground” in New York City with her brother (Jack Lemmon) and aunt (Elsa Lanchester) secretly casts a spell to lure her neighbor (James Stewart) away from his fiancee (Janice Rule). Meanwhile, her brother foolishly cooperates with an occult author (Ernic Kovacs) on his latest book, threatening to expose their true identities.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Elsa Lanchester Films
  • Jack Lemmon Films
  • Janice Rule Films
  • Jimmy Stewart Films
  • Kim Novak Films
  • Play Adaptations
  • Romantic Comedy
  • Witches and Wizards

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that people who “saw this mild comedy” — an “adaptation of John van Druten’s play” — when it was released in theaters may “have a soft spot for it”, but warns that “otherwise you’ll be disappointed, even bored”. He notes that while a “dream comedy cast was assembled”, “everyone seems to have taken tranquilizers”, and argues that the “picture cries out for wildness, even slapstick humor”, thanks to “lifeless direction by Richard Quine”. I’m in full agreement with Peary’s assessment of this disappointing “follow-up” to Novak and Stewart’s romantic pairing the same year in Vertigo. Novak, while appropriately sexy and seductive, seems decidedly bored throughout much of the film:

while Stewart brings nothing new to his rather thankless role as a spellbound chump.

Meanwhile, Lanchester is typecast in a throwaway role as Novak’s ditzy aunt:

and Lemmon is merely serviceable as Novak’s foolhardly brother.

Smidgens of relief come from both Janice Rule as Stewart’s smug fiancee, and Ernie Kovacs as the perennially befuddled “occult” author, but they ultimately can’t save the predictable storyline from itself.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Janice Rule as Merle Kittridge
  • Ernie Kovacs as Sidney Redlitch

Must See?
No; this one isn’t must-see viewing.

Links:

Vertigo (1958)

Vertigo (1958)

“One doesn’t often get a second chance.”

Synopsis:
A retired policeman (James Stewart) with a fear of heights is asked by his friend (Tom Helmore) to follow his beautiful wife (Kim Novak), who has recently become obsessed with her suicidal ancestor. Soon Stewart finds himself obsessively in love with Novak, and is devastated when events take a surprising turn for the worst.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Detectives and Private Eyes
  • Framed
  • Hitchcock Films
  • Jimmy Stewart Films
  • Kim Novak Films
  • Mistaken or Hidden Identities
  • Obsessive Love

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary begins his review of what he refers to as “Hitchcock’s most perplexing film” by noting the significance of the opening scene (a “chase across a San Francisco roof”), which demonstrates how the lead character, ‘Scottie’ Ferguson (Stewart), develops the debilitating vertigo that plagues him throughout the remainder of the film. He astutely points out that “after the cop who tries to save [dangling Stewart] plummets to his death”, “Hitchcock never shows [Stewart] being rescued” — thus, “by leaving Scottie in mid-air, Hitchcock instills in us the feeling… that Scottie has slipped into a surreal, dreamlike netherworld that exists between life and death, the present and the past, the real and illusionary”. He further notes that “because a cop died in his place, [a guilty] Scottie is attracted to death, which is embodied by the beautiful, ethereal, [suicidal] Madeleine” (a “well cast” Kim Novak).

To say more about the film’s suspenseful, psychologically intense storyline is to immediately give away spoilers; unfortunately Peary’s entire review (like most you’ll find online) is simply riddled with them. Suffice it to say that a significant death occurs about halfway through the film, and a further critical plot twist is revealed about 2/3rds of the way through — both of which should come as a deliciously unexpected surprise to novice viewers, thus adding to the film’s enduring legacy as a first-rate thriller. With that said, I’ll agree with Peary that the “unique and brilliant” structure of the film — in which “the picture becomes an intense, psychological character study of Scottie” rather than a potential murder mystery — is somewhat “infuriating”; like Peary, “I prefer the mystery unraveling to Scottie unraveling and becoming unbearably obsessive, tyrannical, and self-destructive”. Plus, as he notes, the surprisingly “tragic ending is… unsatisfying and depressing”.

Vertigo — which in recent years has steadily scaled the ranks of various highly regarded “best movie” lists, especially since a gorgeous restoration was completed in 1996 — is often cited as Hitchcock’s masterpiece, and certainly remains one of his most discussed and analyzed films. This is due in part to the fact that the story — in which middle-aged Stewart develops a near-pathological obsession with an aloof “icy blonde” — seems to mirror Hitchcock’s own idiosyncratic fascination with such women. However, while I admire the film on many levels, it’s ultimately not a personal favorite. Scottie’s treatment of Novak eventually becomes far too disturbing to easily stomach, and it’s not much fun to witness Hitchcock’s relentless assertion that when “given a choice of women, men are so weak they’ll always pick the helpless over the independent, the attractive over the plain, the frigid over the accessible, and the illusionary over the real” — indeed, the character of Barbara Bel Geddes’ “Midge” (Stewart’s ex-fiancee, who harbors an enduring crush on him) is never allowed to become anything more than a sorry symbol for everything “normal” and healthy Stewart is rejecting.

Yet regardless of how film fanatics may feel about the film’s ultimate ranking within Hitchcock’s pantheon, there’s much about it to enjoy — including Novak’s surprisingly nuanced performance(s), excellent use of Bay Area locales, and Bernard Herrmann’s justifiably celebrated score (one of his best). It remains a classic film ffs won’t want to miss viewing at least once — and likely more often, simply to absorb its complex psychological layering and storyline.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Jimmy Stewart as Scottie Ferguson
  • Kim Novak as Madeleine/Judy
  • Barbara Bel Geddes as Midge
  • Fine VistaVision cinematography
  • Good use of Bay Area locales
  • Bernard Herrmann’s score

Must See?
Yes, as one of Hitchcock’s most highly regarded classics.

Categories

  • Genuine Classic
  • Important Director

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links: (spoilers in nearly every review – be forewarned!)

Sunrise (1927)

Sunrise (1927)

“This song of the Man and his Wife is of no place and every place; you might hear it anywhere, at any time.”

Synopsis:
A simple country farmer (George O’Brien) is persuaded by his vampish lover (Margaret Livingston) to murder his wife (Janet Gaynor) on a boat trip — but O’Brien’s conscience gets the better of him, and he finds himself unable to carry through with his plans. He and Gaynor renew their love for one another during a romantic trip to New York City, but face unexpected challenges when they’re caught in a storm on their way back home.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Character Arc
  • City vs. Country
  • Femmes Fatales
  • F.W. Murnau Films
  • Homicidal Spouses
  • Janet Gaynor Films
  • Silent Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that F.W. Murnau’s “American debut” remains a “great silent film”, one which “takes a simple, universal story and gives it startling emotional impact through breathtaking camera work”. He argues that “between The Birth of a Nation and Citizen Kane there is no better example in American film of visual storytelling”, given that the “expressionistic (sometimes lyrical) film… reveals the psychology of its characters from movement to movement through intricate lighting, camera movement and positioning, choice of setting, scenic design, and superimpositions (that reveal thoughts) and other special effects”. He points out that the “picture has a European look because it was designed in Germany before Murnau came to the U.S.”, and argues that the “acting is fine, with Gaynor and O’Brien showing why they were one of the era’s most likable screen teams, and Livingston making a devilish femme fatale“.

In his Alternate Oscars book, Peary names Sunrise the Best Picture of the Year, arguing that the actual winner, William Wellman’s Wings (1927), “pales in comparison” and “has dated badly”, and pointing out that Sunrise actually won the “Artistic Quality of Production” award, a category which was soon abandoned and is no longer remembered.

Peary’s not at all alone in his laudatory view of this visually stunning silent film, which is consistently innovative and atmospheric in its presentation style. However, one’s enjoyment of the story itself will depend greatly on an ability to view it as a fable rather than a realistic tale of infidelity and renewed marital trust. After all, Gaynor’s The Wife (as in Murnau’s equally fable-like The Last Laugh [1924], the major characters aren’t given names) manages to fairly quickly forgive her husband (The Man) for having homicidal tendencies towards her (!), allowing their New York trip to function as a second honeymoon rather than worrying about his dangerously mercurial nature. Meanwhile, the details of the entire narrative remain remarkably simplistic, in a fairy tale-like fashion; Peary himself refers to it as a “fable-morality play”.

In Alternate Oscars, Peary notes that Vidor’s thematically similar masterpiece from the same year (The Crowd) is every bit as impressive and “artistic” as Murnau’s film, but that Sunrise was still a better choice as Best Picture of the Year (calculated at that point from August 1927 to August 1928), simply given that it “turned out to be more influential”. He points out that both films “are about how a married couple’s enduring love neutralizes the hostile, destructive, corruptive powers of the city”; indeed, having recently rewatched The Crowd myself, the similarities are strikingly notable. Yet I found myself much more emotionally engaged in the travails of The Crowd‘s realistic (albeit “every man”) protagonists, while Sunrise‘s The Man and The Wife simply function as convenient archetypes, held at remove. Indeed, at times Murnau’s film edges dangerously close to stereotyping in its overly-simplistic presentation of city-versus-country, with O’Brien and Gaynor shown as naive hicks who can’t quite keep up with the pace of city living.

With all that said, there really is no denying the visual impact of Sunrise, which uses cinematographic techniques to tremendous effect, clearly demonstrating once again why F.W. Murnau is considered a pivotal figure in the early days of feature-length cinema. For that reason alone, it’s most certainly worth a look by all film fanatics.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Charles Rosher and Karl Struss’s cinematography

  • Excellent use of “in-camera” effects

  • Creative intertitles
  • Atmospheric sets and art direction

Must See?
Yes, as a visually evocative silent classic.

Categories

  • Genuine Classic
  • Important Director
  • Oscar Winner or Nominee

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Crowd, The (1928)

Crowd, The (1928)

“The crowd laughs with you always… But it will cry with you for only a day.”

Synopsis:
An idealistic young man (James Murray) born at the turn of the 20th century struggles to make a living in 1920s New York while maintaining a happy home life with his new wife (Eleanor Boardman) and young kids.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • King Vidor Films
  • Marital Problems
  • New York City
  • Silent Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary writes that this “truly wonderful silent movie” — “directed with remarkable visual virtuosity by King Vidor” — will appeal to “fans of such films as 1939’s Made for Each Other and The Marrying Kind [1952].” He notes that “like those two films, it blends humor and heartbreak” in its tale of a “a young couple… who fall in love on a blind date, immediately marry, and almost break up due to financial and familial difficulties”, and points out that the “film’s theme is that since few people become rich it’s okay to be one of the faceless crowd, just as long as you never become trampled on by that crowd”. He notes that the “film has marvelous visuals of New York”, which is sometimes “portrayed as romantic… [and] at other times [as] frightening”, but always as “extremely crowded”. He further notes Vidor’s much-lauded technique of either showing “a crowd in a long shot and zoom[ing] into a close-up of an individual or begin[ning] with a close-up of an individual and pull[ing] back to reveal the enormity of the surrounding crowd”.

While I admire Vidor’s clear directorial prowess, what I find most impressive about this film is how “extremely engaging” the two leads are; they seem to genuinely be falling in love with each other during the initial Coney Island date sequence (and more so during their romantic Niagara Falls honeymoon sequence), and one fully believes in the arc of their troubled marital journey. Boardman (Vidor’s real-life wife) demonstrates true screen presence as “Mary”, leading one to wonder why her career never took off as it could have; meanwhile, Murray (as “John”) is convincingly irritating as her well-meaning but immature husband, who behaves like a jerk at times yet ultimately wants the best for his young family, and truly loves Mary. His character is both frustrating to watch, and entirely believable.

There’s a pivotal moment early in the film, when John is shown leaving the office with his friend (Bert Roach), who convinces him to take the night off from studying to go out on the town and have a fun time on a double date. In typically compacted cinematic fashion, John meets Mary on this date, immediately proposes to her, and from thence is shown prioritizing family life over personal advancement. It’s all the more ironic, then, that his subsequent lack of time to focus on “improving himself” results in a life of semi-poverty for his family. Could the real moral here be that one should wait to marry and start a family until one has secured a solid livelihood? Reviewers don’t seem to focus much on this point, though Peary does note that John “would rather spend time with [Mary] and their children than play up to the bosses in the hope of getting a promotion”.

Ultimately, The Crowd remains a real-life, warts-and-all romance above all else, showing how John and Mary weather the storms of overbearing in-laws, a deeply tragic personal loss, and John’s growing realization that his father’s dreams for him once upon a time — “There’s a little man the world is going to hear from all right” — are easier said than realized.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Eleanor Boardman as Mary (nominated as one of the Best Actresses of the Year in Peary’s Alternate Oscars)
  • James Murray as John
  • Creative direction by King Vidor

  • A fun glimpse of 1920s New York

Must See?
Yes, for the fine lead performances and Vidor’s solid direction. Nominated as one of the Best Films of the Year in Peary’s Alternate Oscars.

Categories

  • Important Director
  • Noteworthy Performance(s)

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Man Who Laughs, The (1928)

Man Who Laughs, The (1928)

“A Comprachico surgeon carved a grin upon his face so he might laugh forever at his fool of a father.”

Synopsis:
In 17th century France, a young boy (Julius Molnar Jr.) whose mouth has been carved into a permanent smile as punishment to his disloyal father is adopted by a kind mountebank named Ursus (Cesare Gravina). Years later, Gwynplaine (Conrad Veidt) and a young blind woman named Dea (Mary Philbin) find themselves in love, but Gwynplaine is unwilling to let Dea touch his disfigured face; meanwhile a fun-loving duchess (Olga Baclanova) toys with the idea of having Gwynplaine as a lover, but is surprised to learn that he’s actually a nobleman who is rightful heir to her property.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Conrad Veidt Films
  • Disfigured Faces
  • Historical Drama
  • Horror
  • Mistaken or Hidden Identities
  • Royalty and Nobility
  • Silent Films

Review:
Former German set designer Paul Leni made only a handful of films in Hollywood before dying far too young from blood poisoning in 1929. His best known titles as a director are the episodic German fantasy film Waxworks (1924); a silent version of The Cat and the Canary (1927); and his penultimate feature, this unexpectedly creepy horror-melodrama based on a novel by Victor Hugo. There’s something inherently unsettling about facial disfigurement as represented on screen, with Georges Franju’s Eyes Without a Face (1960) perhaps epitomizing the sub-genre, and Hugo’s own The Phantom of the Opera (1925) offering a variation on the same theme of a disfigured man hiding his face from the sweet young woman he loves (played by Philbin in both films). Assisted by Jack Pierce’s stunning make-up design, Veidt fully inhabits the role of the unfortunate Gwynplaine, whose face is etched into a permanent smile no matter what his mood; it’s difficult to describe exactly how disturbing his scarred visage is until one sees it flashed across the screen time and again. (Veidt’s appearance here was acknowledged as a direct influence on Bob Kane, who created The Joker for DC Comics.)

Adding to the pathos of Veidt’s curse is the deeply disturbing backstory of how he received his disfigurement as a young boy; the thought of a group of malevolent gypsies known for causing permanent damage to young children chills me to my bones.

Indeed, the film’s opening sequences are its most powerful, with the remainder of the storyline occasionally bogged down by the complex “hidden identity” narrative arc, which detracts from the twisted love triangle between Veidt, Philbin, and Baclanova (looking eerily like Madonna), whose fetishistic desires compel her to toy with Veidt’s emotions; although she’s best known for her iconic work as the villainess in Tod Browning’s Freaks (1932), she’s equally compelling in this role. Meanwhile, wild-haired Gravina brings unexpected pathos to his role as Gwynplaine and Dea’s caretaker, who comes across as refreshingly sympathetic and paternal rather than exploitative. Enormous credit for the film’s overall success, however, belongs to Leni and his behind-the-scenes crew, who film the entire storyline with Expressionistic flair, utilizing atmospheric sets and cinematography to effectively highlight the horror-driven drama behind Hugo’s narrative.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Conrad Veidt as Gwynplaine
  • Olga Baclanova as the Duchess Josiana
  • Cesare Gravina as Ursus
  • The unsettling first portion of the film
  • Jack Pierce’s creepy makeup
  • Atmospheric sets and cinematography

Must See?
Yes, as a truly compelling silent horror-melodrama — and for Veidt’s noteworthy performance. Listed as a film with Historical Importance and a Personal Recommendation in the back of Peary’s book.

Categories

  • Genuine Classic
  • Noteworthy Performance(s)

Links:

Last Laugh, The (1924)

Last Laugh, The (1924)

“In consideration of your long service with us, we have found another position for you.”

Synopsis:
When an aging doorman (Emil Jannings) at a fancy hotel is demoted to washroom attendant, he hides this shameful fact from his family and neighbors as long as possible — but could an unexpected change in fortune be around the corner for Jannings?

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Downward Spiral
  • F.W. Murnau Films
  • German Films
  • Silent Films

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary argues that this “classic German silent film, directed without titles by F.W. Murnau”, “suffers today because of Jannings overdoing it with the self-pity and a happy ending that just doesn’t mesh with what went before.” However, he concedes that “Karl Freund’s cinematography is absolutely stunning”, noting that his “remarkable close-ups, Jannings’s dream sequence, and the opening street scene… shot through a revolving door” are “particularly impressive”. He argues that Freund’s “use of a mobile camera and his surreal effects were revolutionary”, and that “truly there are shots unlike those found in any other film”. DVD Savant’s review (of a newly restored version unavailable to Peary in 1986) provides additional insights into the movie, which he notes is often considered “the best example of German Expressionism”. He writes that “Murnau plans every shot to contrast the doorman’s proud position with his later, diminished status”, and argues that “the entire film is energized by a camera that adds its comment to each scene and each angle.” He notes that while Jannings’ performance may be “stylized”, “nothing about [it] is overwrought”, and further points out the “remarkable” set designs by Edgar G. Ulmer.

The Last Laugh is ultimately more of a cinematographic fable than a traditional full-length feature, given several factors: its rather limited narrative scope; the lack of any names given to the characters (Jannings is simply “The Hotel Doorman”); the lack of inter-titles (though written notes are occasionally used to good effect); and the admittedly “tacked on”, unrealistically happy ending. To that end, I disagree with Peary’s complaint that the epilogue “just doesn’t mesh with what went before”; instead, I see it as simply further evidence that the entire narrative is meant to be viewed from the doorman’s perspective. After all, the extreme reactions of his neighbors and family members — both to the glory of his original position, and the shame of his debasement — defy logic; therefore, the happy ending seems to nicely represent simply an extension of Jannings’ ongoing fantasies and delusions. Regardless, what’s most impressive about the film is — as both Peary and Savant point out — its visual inventiveness, making it an early classic film fanatics won’t want to miss seeing at least once.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Emil Jannings as the Hotel Doorman
  • Innovative direction
  • Karl Freund’s cinematography

Must See?
Yes, as a visually evocative silent fable by a master director and his DP.

Categories

  • Important Director

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Triumph of the Will (1935)

Triumph of the Will (1935)

“It is our will that this state shall endure for a thousand years. We are happy to know that the future is ours entirely!”

Synopsis:
In Leni Riefenstahl’s controversial “documentary”, Adolf Hitler greets adoring crowds during the 1934 Nazi Party Convention in Nuremberg.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Documentary
  • Nazis
  • Propaganda

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary refers to “Leni Riefenstahl’s documentary on the 1934 Nazi Party Congress in Nuremberg” as “one of the most argued-about films ever made”, noting that it’s “worth seeing if only because of its fame”. He writes that “Riefenstahl always contended that her film was art rather than propaganda”, which is “nonsense” given that she and her vast crew of assistant directors “employed tremendous cinematic artistry to glorify Nazism and the Fuhrer, who comes across as a Messiah”, a “hero”, a “solemn and caring father figure”, a “military leader”, and a “respected firm party leader”. (The resulting film, which took 6 months to edit, represents only 3% of the total footage shot.) He points out that “most controversial is how on occasion she filmed the people/soldiers as if they weren’t human, but statues or part of Albert Speer’s new architecture”, and notes that “equally disturbing are images of uniformed Hitler youths having the time of their lives, looking no more dangerous than Cub Scouts as they engage in playful roughhousing”.

In his review, Peary provides a useful overview of Riefenstahl’s many “expert” techniques in projecting “a positive image” of Hitler — including her “employment of symbols”, “camera movement (to keep potentially dry material from seeming static), camera placement (Hitler is always shot from below to make him seem heroic), and thematic use of light and darkness”. All of this is true — and yet Roger Ebert provides a slightly different perspective in his “Great Movies” review, where he argues that it’s actually “a terrible film, paralyzingly dull, simpleminded, overlong and not even ‘manipulative’, because it is too clumsy to manipulate anyone but a true believer.” However, Ebert’s perspective on the film seems to come from a modern viewing stance, rather than acknowledging its impact on those who were watching it at the time; while I’ll concede that I found it boring to sit through the entire two-hour film, I’m not its target audience — i.e., a German citizen in the 1930s wondering about the fate of my country. As Peary notes, the “film made [Aryan] Germans feel comfort about their future”, and to that end, Riefenstahl most definitely “succeeded” in her disturbing goals.

In sum, though it’s tempting to “boycott [the film] strictly because of its ideology”, it’s worth sitting through once — though “ironically, you’ve probably seen most of the footage already”.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Plenty of evidence of strategically propagandist (and undeniably “artistic”) direction


Must See?
Yes, once, simply for its historical notoriety.

Categories

  • Historically Relevant

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Last Metro, The (1980)

Last Metro, The (1980)

“It takes two to love, as it takes two to hate.”

Synopsis:
In German-occupied France during WWII, the owner (Catherine Deneuve) of a theater hides her Jewish husband (Heinz Bennent) in the basement while rehearsing a play with a new leading man (Gerard Depardieu) and an ambitious young starlet (Sabine Haudepin).

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Actors and Actresses
  • Catherine Deneuve Films
  • Francois Truffaut Films
  • French Films
  • Gerard Depardieu Films
  • Resistance Fighters

Review:
Given that Francois Truffaut spent part of his childhood living in Nazi-occupied France, he had long wanted to make a film set during this era; he settled upon this fictionalized tale (albeit one loosely based on various real-life scenarios) of a female theater director hiding her Jewish husband in the theater’s basement while carrying on daily operations and rehearsals up above.

It was enormously popular with both American and French audiences upon its release, and was nominated for an Oscar as Best Foreign Film of the Year, but ultimately hasn’t held up all that well as a compelling tale of wartime occupation. Since so many other films have covered (and continue to cover) this devastating period in world history, one’s expectations can’t help but be raised — so to see Truffaut presenting the material in such a sanitized light is somewhat disturbing; as Time Out’s acerbic capsule review puts it, “Playing for cute nostalgia, Truffaut lets the realities go to hell.”

According to an interview with Truffaut cited in TCM’s article, he himself admitted that The Last Metro could be seen as representing “the theater and the Occupation [as] seen by a child”, which would explain why the life-and-death “danger” risked by Deneuve and Bennent on a daily basis never feels as threatening as it should, and why both characters are seen taking ridiculous risks time and again (i.e., Deneuve slips away to visit Bennent in the midst of a post-production party!!). With that said, Deneuve and Bennent’s underground relationship remains compelling throughout; we genuinely believe that this pair is deeply in love and would do what it takes to maintain contact — which is why a sudden romantic plot twist during the final half hour of the film makes absolutely no sense at all, and truly seems to come out of left field. (Some viewers claim to sense a sexual tension between the two individuals in question throughout the film, but I just can’t see it.) Fortunately, the film is at least a visual treat throughout, thanks to Nestor Almendros’ cinematography — but film fanatics needn’t consider this one of Truffaut’s “must see” titles.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Catherine Deneuve as Marion Steiner
  • Heinz Bennent as Lucas Steiner
  • Nestor Almendros’ cinematography

Must See?
No, though it’s worth a one-time look. Listed as a film with Historical Importance in the back of Peary’s book.

(Listed in 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die)

Links:

Story of Adele H, The / Histoire de Adele H., L’ (1975)

Story of Adele H, The / Histoire de Adele H., L’ (1975)

“One can be in love with a man and still despise everything about him.”

Synopsis:
The daughter (Isabelle Adjani) of French novelist Victor Hugo travels undercover to Nova Scotia in pursuit of a former lover (Bruce Robinson), but becomes increasingly unhinged and deluded about their aborted relationship.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Francois Truffaut Films
  • French Films
  • Historical Drama
  • Mental Breakdown
  • Obsessive Love

Response to Peary’s Review:
Peary accurately notes that “Francois Truffaut’s extremely passionate telling of the true story of Adele Hugo (Isabelle Adjani), the younger daughter of Victor Hugo” is “a moving, fascinating, original film, beautifully photographed by Nestor Almendros, with special attention to period detail”. He writes that “Truffaut’s characters are always driven by their hearts rather than by reason and, typically, they love those who don’t love them equally or at the same time” — but he notes that “this is the one film where he really explores the humiliation and the pain one can endure when deep love is unfilled”. Indeed, given how undeniably “heartbreaking” Adele’s psychological downfall is, it’s especially remarkable that Truffaut’s film remains as riveting as it is; we can’t help watching with fascination to see what will happen to her next (or rather, what new plan she herself will concoct to perpetuate the life of fantastical lies she’s become so inextricably bound to).

While much credit should go to Almendros and Truffaut’s set designers for presenting such a faithfully rendered, atmospheric vision of the era and location, most of the film’s success belongs squarely on the shoulders of young Adjani, who was deservedly nominated as one of the Best Actresses of the Year by the Academy, and is given this award by Peary in his Alternate Oscars. In this text, he notes that she gives “one of the truly unforgettable performances of the decade” as a woman with “no sense of pride”, who eventually “goes insane” (in real life, Adele was apparently schizophrenic). He provides a bit more analysis of her character’s strange motivations in pointing out that “Adele’s need for love from her suitor is rooted in her need to escape from the house of her unloving father, to prove to him she is worthy of love” — with the ultimate irony being that “becoming slave to another man is her way of achieving freedom from her father”. One can’t help wanting to research more about the real-life Adele Hugo after watching this riveting “biopic”, which does ample justice to her tragic fate.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • Isabelle Adjani as Adele H.
  • Nestor Almendros’ cinematography
  • Fine attention to period detail

Must See?
Yes, for Adjani’s stunning performance, and as an overall powerful film.

Categories

  • Important Director
  • Noteworthy Performance(s)

Links:

Bride Wore Black, The (1968)

Bride Wore Black, The (1968)

“You took something from me that you can’t give me back.”

Synopsis:
A vengeful widow (Jeanne Moreau) plots to methodically murder the five men — Michel Bouquet, Jean-Claude Brialy, Charles Denner, Claude Rich, and Michael Lonsdale — she believes are responsible for her husband’s premature death.

Genres, Themes, Actors, and Directors:

  • Femmes Fatales
  • Francois Truffaut Films
  • French Films
  • Jeanne Moreau Films
  • Revenge
  • Widows and Widowers

Review:
Made shortly after he published his series of interviews with Alfred Hitchcock (as the book Hitchcock/Truffaut [1967]), this adaptation of Cornell Woolrich’s 1940 crime novel remains Francois Truffaut’s most explicit homage to the master of suspense, even going so far as to include a score by Bernard Herrmann. We’re plunged immediately into Moreau’s vengeful plot, as she cleverly lures two unsuspecting men into her snare by posing as the type of woman each would find most alluring; about mid-way through the film, we finally discover exactly why she’s so hell-bent on murder, as we see the most pivotal moment in her life (her new husband’s death just after their marriage) playing out in flashback. The remainder of the storyline continues in like fashion, with Moreau doggedly crafting new variations on her siren-like persona — which brings up the slightly uncomfortable fact that Moreau (looking somewhat dowdy and dour at 40) is not entirely convincing as the alluring femme fatale she’s meant to portray here. Indeed, while she captures the aura of “grieving widow” perfectly, she’s simply not stunning enough to be convincingly sexy in the way Truffaut apparently imagines her to be. With that said, the screenplay is clever enough to keep one engaged throughout (we’re definitely kept wondering when and how Moreau will finally be stopped in her tracks), even as it occasionally defies credibility.

Note: Film fanatics will likely assume that this film was an enormous influence on Quentin Tarantino when he was crafting his Kill Bill epic (starring Uma Thurman as an equally vengeful widowed bride) — but, amazingly, he claims this wasn’t the case.

Redeeming Qualities and Moments:

  • A clever (if occasionally implausible) script


  • Pierre Cardin’s outfits

Must See?
No, though it’s recommended.

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