I was originally going to watch just a set of French language films, but I enjoyed this first film from director Marcel Carné so much, that I decided to check out some of his other pictures. Carne lived from 1906 until the ripe old age of 90, dying in 1996. He started during the silent era as an assistant, and learned from some of the greats in his early career, including René Clair and Alexander Korda. Coincidentally, 5 of these 6 pictures came from the same screenwriter as well (Jacques Prévert).

Les Portes de la nuit (Gates of the Night) was released in 1946 and takes place in early 1945, in a Paris that has just been liberated and getting used to being a free nation again, while the war in Germany is still raging. It depicts one long night on the streets of Paris, where worlds collide among many characters, and Destiny himself, in the guise of a vagabond, roams the avenues. There’s a good 8-10 players involved, whose lives intertwine in a multitude of ways, though they might not know it from the start. Included are some old war buddies, one of whom falls in love-at-first-sight with a girl, who is returning to France to see her estranged father and brother, the father who owns the building they all live in, and the brother who ratted on one of the aforementioned soldiers to the gestapo during the war, etc. Lines like these criss-cross throughout, but don’t stress; it never feels convoluted, and is easy to follow. Against the backdrop of a shelled out Paris, and with smokey haze rising from the evening and then pre-dawn streets, the film could easily stray to the very dark, but humorous dialogue and engaging characters keep it from feeling like a dirge, despite an obvious feeling of loss of hope in a dark world destroyed by war. It is a delightful film, and I’m excited to see more of Carné’s works! Incidentally, this film’s most lasting legacy is it introduced the song Autumn Leaves, which would go onto become a much-recorded jazz standard (and show up in the film La La Land decades later). ★★★★

I next went back in time to before the war, with 1938’s Hôtel du Nord. Once again, a lot of characters, this time floating around the eponymous hotel. Renée and Jean are a pair of star-crossed lovers who check in for one night, with the intent to Romeo and Juliet themselves to be together forever. Pierre shoots Renée in the chest, but chickens out when it comes to offing himself. A hooligan living down the hall, Edmond, breaks into the room upon hearing the gunshot, but lets Pierre sneak out the window before the police arrive. Renée survives, and awakens in the hospital a few days later. Upon being released, she returns to the hotel to collect her belongings, and finds out Pierre turned himself in to the police while she was out. With nowhere to go, Renée takes a job at the hotel to await Pierre’s release from jail, but her presence sends cracks through the establishment, with a smitten Edmond chasing after her and dumping his prostitute girlfriend (who also lives at the hotel), as well as other suitors who frequent the area. The story isn’t as tight as Les Portes, but the wordplay is still very good (especially from the prostitute Raymonde) and if, like me, you like a good tale, this is still a very enjoyable picture. ★★★

Also released in 1938 was Le Quai des brumes (Port of Shadows). Though it predates what we consider the classic film noir era, it very much has that kind of feel. Jean (Jean Gabin) is a deserter from the French military and is looking to get out of the country before he is discovered. Unfortunately he has a night that is anything but quiet. In the port city of Le Havre, he finds himself embroiled in a mystery involving a group of thugs looking for a newly-missing man named Maurice, Maurice’s girl Nelly (Michèle Morgan), and Nelly’s godfather Zabel (Michel Simon), who has more than paternal feelings for Nelly. There’s some sinister acts in play, and while Jean just wants to get out of dodge, he is swept off his feet by the beautiful Nelly and her plight. I can’t say more than that for fear of giving away some of the fun. The twists and turns are completely compelling, and while the ending doesn’t quite live up the greatness of the rest of the film, it’s still a satisfying and gripping murder mystery for fans of the noir genre. Near perfection, with a bit of deduction for the uneven finale. ★★★★

Le jour se lève (literally The Day Rises, but usually translated as Daybreak) also stars Jean Gabin, this time as François. The film starts with him having killed a man at his own apartment building, and then barricading himself in the room against police. We then get a series of flashbacks over the previous few months, leading up to today’s events. He had begun to date a young woman named Françoise, who shared several similarities besides the name. François finds though, that she’s been seeing an older man on the side. François starts dating the older man’s wife (no love between the two, both are doing it for revenge it seems), and this love triangle plays out in the rest of the film. Between the flashbacks, François engages in shootouts with the cops, while his neighbors are interviewed about his nice and accommodating François was before today. The film is ok I guess, though the plot isn’t as intriguing as the first trio of films I saw, and Gabin seems to ham it up at times in this picture. Characters are pretty shallow too, so there isn’t as much to grab on to as a viewer. ★★

Les visiteurs du soir (The Visitors of the Night, or more often called The Devil’s Envoys) is an absolutely charming film about the power of love. Released in 1942 when Paris was under Nazi occupation, and fearing his usual kinds of movies wouldn’t make it past their censors, Carné went back in time and did a fantasy historical picture. In 1485, a musical duo, Gilles and Dominique, have made pacts with the devil to sow jealousy and discord. For their newest assignment, they are riding up to a castle to seduce the the bride- and groom-to be’s. Dominique performs her role well, getting both the groom and bride’s father to fall in love with her, but Gilles unexpectedly falls in love with the bride himself. The devil can’t stand to let this one go, and shows up to the party to make sure things go his way. It is a wonderfully rich and enthralling story, with superb acting all around. Though it’s an old film in the 4:3 format, it is shot beautifully and grandly, evoking the wide open spaces of the castle galleries and surrounding countryside. Who doesn’t love a good love story? ★★★★½

Released in 1945, Children of Paradise is considered Marcel Carné’s masterpiece. It is a 3 hour epic historical film, about an astoundingly beautiful woman named Garance, and the four men who love her. These include Baptiste, a very talented mime actor; Frédérick, a crowd-pleasing actor; Lacenaire, a criminal; and introduced halfway through the film, Édouard, a rich Count. Garance cannot pick between her suitors, not because she is unable to decide, but because she refuses (or is unable) to give love to any one person, and refuses to be “owned” in such a way. Baptiste is a dreamer, pining away for Garance despite having another woman, Nathalie, who loves him wholeheartedly. Frédérick does bed Garance, but he is frivolous in both love and money, and treats it all as a game. Lacenaire wants to own Garance like a stolen jewel, and the jealous Édouard doesn’t care if his love is returned, as long as Garance doesn’t love anyone else. Garance is forced to choose a man when she becomes a suspect in a crime, and relies on Édouard’s power and influence to keep her safe. The second half of the film fasts forward several years, after which Garance has been traveling the world with Édouard but finally returns to Paris. Baptiste has married and started a family with Nathalie, and has become a sensational mime actor with rave reviews. Frédérick is still the ladies man, and while the critics don’t like his performances, he plays to the crowd and sells out his shows (though he admits to himself that Baptiste is the better actor). When Baptiste learns that Garance is back, it threatens his entire life, and Lacenaire shows up to muddle matters as well. This is a supremely great film, with moving performances by all of the leads. Every one of the five main characters, as well as Nathalie and the others, is perfect. It is a powerful and emotional film; if it had been in English, I think it would be right up there with some of the great classics that are household names in this country. As it is, it is considered one of the best films ever to come from France, and if you look at that long history of cinema, that is saying something. ★★★★★

I’ve heard a lot about Iranian film director Abbas Kiarostami, but have never seen anything from him before. Time to rectify that, starting with Where Is the Friend’s Home?, released in 1987. It’s a very quiet picture, one of those films where the journey is more important than the destination. The plot is simple: Nematzadeh keeps getting in trouble at school for leaving his workbook at home, and finally the teacher threatens expulsion if it happens again. That night, his deskmate, Ahmed, realizes he’s taken Nematzedeh’s workbook home with his stuff. Wanting to save his friend from trouble, he goes to find him, but unfortunately, he only knows that he lives in the next village over. Taking place in the rural Iran countryside, where life is simple and the year could be anything from 1887 to 1987, Ahmed must deal with adults who don’t listen to his voice, to other kids who may or may not be the most willing to help, to his own parents who try to keep him busy with what they think is best. This is one of those films which is best viewed with a quiet mind, and just let it wash over you. Though Kiarostami has been around a lot longer, it reminded me a lot of Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s films. There’s nothing that grabs you and shakes you to pay attention to, but nevertheless it sticks with you long after it’s over. ★★★★½

Three years after Where is the Friend’s Home?, northern Iran was hit by an awful earthquake. In And Life Goes On (also called Life, and Nothing More), a man is traveling, with his young son, through this area. At first, we aren’t aware of his destination, but we learn after awhile that the man is a fictionalized version of director Abbas Kiarostami, and he’s trying to get to Koker to see if the young actors from the first film have survived the devastating earthquake. Having the son present adds some of the same “through the eyes of a child” aspect as the first film, but as the title suggests, it is overall more about the perseverance of the people of this region, dealing with the loss of loved ones, and in some cases, their homes and all of their worldly goods. The movie plays out as a quasi-fictional documentary, with “the director” stopping to chat with survivors on his way to Koker, asking about the boys he’s searching for, but also just getting an idea as to what the people have been through. The people he’s talking to are actors of course, but they are also legitimately from this area (as were the characters in the first film), and have recently survived the earthquake themselves, so the film hits hard in multiple ways. Another beautifully soft and touching film, showing people coming together to face tribulations as one. ★★★★

Ok, stay with me on this one, because for Through the Olive Trees, the final film in this “trilogy” of sorts, Kiarostami pulls back multiple layers for the viewer. A new actor introduces himself to us in the opening monologue, and states he will be playing the part of the director this time. He is outside Koker to film a movie, and we learn later that the film he is making is in fact And Life Goes On. Besides the (new) director, one of the main characters this time is a man, Hossein, who was interviewed by the (first) director in the previous picture. In the film, Hossein plays a man newly married to a woman named Tahereh, though outside of the film, Hossein’s advances have been rebuffed by Tahereh and her grandmother, who doesn’t condone the relationship because Hossein is just a laborer and not educated. Between film takes, Hossein tries to coax Tahereh to give him a chance, but of course, as a viewer, we know all of this is a “picture within a picture” anyway, since the (new) director told us as much in the opening sentences. It might sound confusing, but it is no less heartful of a picture, and the final scene is one of the most (joyous? heartbreaking? depends on how you decide to take it) wonderful moments I have viewed recently. Absolutely pure cinematic perfection. ★★★★★

In 1989, Abbas Kiarostami read in the paper about a man who was arrested for impersonating another Iranian film director, Mohsen Makhmalbaf. The accused, Hossain Sabzian, had tricked a family into giving him some money and said he was going to cast them in his next picture, but to the reporter he claimed to not do it for the money, but only because he loved film, idolized Makhmalbaf, and liked the attention. Kiarostami reached out to everyone involved in the case, and made a movie about it, but in a very non-traditional way. Everyone in Close-Up plays themselves, from the perpetrator, to the family he tricked, to the police, to the reporter, and even the judge in the case. They all reenacted scenes before and after the arrest, but in a wild twist, the judge gave Kiarostami access to the court trial, allowing him to ask questions to the defendant and accusers during the trial. All is shown in the movie. It’s a fascinating way to make a film, and it received critical acclaim around the world, but I found the film much more dry than the previous trio. I can appreciate the art, but the final product was left wanting in my opinion. It definitely blurs the lines between fact and fiction, so it was interesting to watch for that reason. ★★½

The director made another (in my view) masterpiece with 1997’s Taste of Cherry. Like the Koker trilogy, it is a very simple film about the interactions between people (I’ve realized this is an important tenet to Kiarostami’s films). A mostly-unnamed middle aged man has decided to commit suicide. He’s already dug the grave in the hills outside Tehran, and spends the day driving around looking for someone who will bury him after he does the deed, because in his faith, he must be buried in the ground. However, Islam forbids suicide too, so he’s having a hard time finding someone to agree to the job, even when offered a large sum of money. Throughout the film he picks up three walkers to try to get them to help in his quest: a young, shy soldier; a religious student currently attending seminary; and an older man who, coincidentally, also contemplated suicide once upon a time. The film is slow, but for those with patience who will let the film experience happen naturally, it is a profound and poignant look at the psyche of man. Though we never learn why our main character has chosen this path, we learn from him and those he talks to about the differing views of the world around us. ★★★★½

Up today is a set of films from the Czech New Wave of the 60’s, starting with Vera Chytilová’s Daisies. This film is a hoot, following two beautiful young woman who together realize the world has gone to shit, so they should be bad right along with it. They make an adventure out of daily life, ignoring social norms to be free and silly to mutual delight. They take old men out on dates to fancy restaurants just to gorge on expensive food, and then leave the man before giving him any of his hinted “desserts.” They make spectacles of themselves wherever they go, but just don’t care. If they weren’t so charming or pretty, they would come off as annoying, but I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at their antics. Strong feminism aspects (I had to chuckle when the girls started cutting up phallic shaped objects with long, sharp scissors), but ultimately, the film becomes a harsh commentary on the communist government (you can only be happy if you work hard and do what you’re told), which is why the movie was banned and the director was unable to make another movie until the mid-70’s. It is a delightful, zany picture. ★★★★½

Miloš Forman’s Loves of a Blonde is a popular film from this movement, and earned Forman his first of Oscar nomination in 1965 (for Foreign Language film obviously; he would later win a couple for One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest and Amadeus). Andula is the eponymous blonde, a pretty young woman working at a shoe factory in rural Czechoslovakia. The factory is full of women, who outnumber the men in the town by 16-1. As such, the powers that be organize to bring in some military men for training nearby. Everyone turns out to welcome the men, but when the train pulls up, it turns out it isn’t strapping young men, but instead it is more of the middle aged variety. At the party to welcome them all that night, Andula and her two (also very pretty) friends are sitting at a table nursing their drinks when a table of three older servicemen start eyeing them. Despite trying to show they aren’t interested, the men keep pursuing them as the night goes on. Andula doesn’t go home with any of them, instead, sleeping with the piano player at the party. When she follows him to Prague a week later, hoping to continue their tryst, she is greeted instead by the man’s parents; he had obviously neglected to mentioned he still lived at home. It’s a funny film, as Andula navigates these and her other admirers. Like Daisies (though maybe a bit less straightforward), it pokes criticism at the soviet ruling party and the conditions of people living under it. There are some slow moments (the conversation between the parents, while funny because it is awkward with Andula sitting right there, drags), but still very entertaining. ★★★½

Another film banned by the communist ruling party was Jan Němec’s A Report on the Party and the Guests. This short picture (just 70 minutes) is an allegory on the totalitarian government, and the general ease with which average people will go along with being told what to do. A group of friends are enjoying a picnic near an idyllic stream when they are interrupted by a group of roguish henchman types, though the bad guys are smiling and outwardly agreeable. These newcomers are led by a man named Rudolph, who starts giving orders that the people be separated and to go along with it because, “It’s in their best interest.” When one man refuses to play along, he is roughed up, but Rudolph’s “boss” comes along and plays good cop, putting things right and inviting the original friends to his party by the river. The party might as well be “the Party,” and is clearly intended to be the communist government. Němec wasn’t even being coy, he’s pretty straight forward in his criticism of the system. As powerful of a political statement it is, I found it is a slog to watch. If it had been any longer, I probably wouldn’t have finished it. It’s just dry and slow, and I’m not sure the translation I watched was done well, because it seemed to repeat itself a lot. I can appreciate the director’s statement, but not my cup of tea. ★

I wanted to give Jan Němec another shot, so sat down to his first film, 1964’s Diamonds of the Night, which, unlike the previous picture, actually has a real story. Taking place during World War II, this movie follows two young men, not much more than boys with only wispy facial hair, as they escape from a train taking them to a concentration camp. The film starts with thundering tension, as the duo are running up a hill, with the sounds of the train behind them, and shouts of “Halt!” and gunfire chasing them. They are able to get away, but that is just the beginning. As we follow them through the forest, we see visions along with them, of their past, their fears, and daydreams, as they struggle to even get along. For example, we see that while on the train, one of them had some food and the other had shoes, so they traded. Unfortunately for the new shoe owner, they are about 3 sizes too small, so it isn’t long into their trek that both are hobbling along. When they come across a poor farm, the one boy that goes in to steal food has visions of killing the farmer’s wife, though ultimately she willingly gives them bread (and then, after they are unable to eat due to thirst, she supplies milk too). Freedom also is just a dream though, as eventually they are overtaken by a hunting party. Their fate is ambiguous; like the dream state/nightmare they’ve been living in, they are either gunned down or allowed to walk free. It’s a brilliant picture and so different than Report. Much of the film is sparse with little dialogue, and the camerawork puts us in our victims’ shoes (or lack thereof), feeling all of the fear they are experiencing. Němec’s criticism of totalitarianism in his pictures ultimately got him blacklisted, and he went into exile. He didn’t return to Czechoslovakia until communism fell there in 1989. ★★★★

Return of the Prodigal Son from director Evald Schorm is, on the surface, less political than some of the previous films, but it is no less a powerful statement on human individualism under the current government. Jan is a man who’s just survived a suicide attempt, and finds himself in a mental ward to try to get him better. Oddly though, he doesn’t seem all that crazy, in fact, in an early scene where he wanders away from the hospital and the nurses chase him down, everyone ignores the “normal” people doing crazy things around him. Jan realizes the only way he’s ever getting out of the hospital is if he agrees to compromise on his morals and beliefs. If he does this, he’ll be considered “sane” and can leave. But the world waiting for him isn’t all that appealing: strict societal rules about what is accepted, a wife that cheats on him, etc. It’s a very nice picture, and I wish the director had made more films. Like some of his contemporaries, he was blacklisted by the government and was forced to do stage productions instead of films. He died before the communist government dissipated. ★★★½

End of Sentence is a very nice film about a father and son coming together after a crisis. The two have never gotten along, and their relationship is pretty much dead, to the point that Sean (Logan Lerman) calls his dad Frank (John Hawkes) by name rather than “Dad.” However, when Frank’s wife/Sean’s mother dies of cancer, it is her dying wish that the two go together to her native country of Ireland to spread her ashes over a specific lake. Sean hates his dad so much that at first, he is unwilling to go, but when his other plans fall through and he needs money for a job prospect, Frank promises to pay for it if Sean will do the trip. During the ensuing 5 days, we learn about the distrust and hurt feelings that have gotten them to this point. Sean has been in and out of trouble for years (he is just getting out of jail when the movie begins), and he also has a lot of resentment towards Frank for not defending him against his alcoholic, abusive grandfather (Frank’s dad) when he was younger. Frank is dealing with his own demons too, and learns early in the trip that his wife may have had a secret lover in Ireland who she may have been visiting over the years when there to see “family.” It’s a road trip film, and also obviously about the strong bonds of family, and healing. Lerman and Hawkes are fantastic as the co-leads. This is a true international production too: an English language film with a first-time Icelandic director (Elfar Adalsteins), with many of his countryman serving in production, and filming on location in Ireland. ★★★★

Lucky Grandma is a very cute, very funny movie about the kind of ornery grandma many of us had as little kids. Grandma Wong has recently lost her long-time husband, and is obviously depressed. Her kids and grandkids worry about her, but she seems to want to stay independent. One night, after being told by a fortune teller that good luck is coming, she goes to a casino with all the money she has left, about $1500, and starts betting big. For awhile, she can’t lose, and amasses a fortune before losing it all on one final all-in bet. On the bus ride back home, her seat mate dies of a heart attack, and his bag full of cash literally falls in Grandma Wong’s lap. Unfortunately, the old man was an accountant for a local gang in New York’s Chinatown, and they come for their money. For protection, Grandma Wong hires a bodyguard from a rival gang, putting herself squarely in the middle. Tsai Chin has had a decades-spanning career with varied roles from The Joy Luck Club and even two James Bond films, but she gets to show off her talents her in a central role, and she is wonderful. ★★★½

The first half of The Last Tree comes off as sort of an updated Good Will Hunting, but it ends up being its own great film by the end. Femi is a young child of African descent, being raised by white foster mother in an upper middle class suburb in England, when they get the call that his birth mother has been granted the rights to raise him again. She brings him to her urban apartment, where Femi’s life is much different. For starters, his mother is very strict, and physically abusive when he gets in trouble at school. Femi is a bright kid with a good heart, but starts to hang out with the rougher crowd, initially for self preservation so as to not be bullied himself, but when the film jumps ahead several years and he’s now nearing graduation, he’s become the bully. Femi comes to realize that his actions have meaning to others, and learns about those around him too, like his mother being so strict was just because she wanted him to do better in life than she did. The confused Femi seeks answers from his foster mom, and his birth father, but ultimately it is up to Femi to decide what kind of man he wants to be. It’s a fantastic film, with a powerful performance from newcomer Sam Adewunmi in the lead role. ★★★★

I just saw most of Terrence Malick’s films a couple years ago, and was most moved by The Tree of Life, which I consider one of the most profound films I’ve seen (I did not like his latest, A Hidden Life, nearly as much). So I thought I’d go back and watch the rest of his films I’d missed, which, like The Tree of Life, are considered “experimental” dramas, starting with 2012’s To the Wonder. It is a linear film but with a sometimes infuriating lack of narrative, revolving around the relationship of Neal (Ben Affleck) and Marina (Olga Kurylenko). The two meet and fall in love while Neil is in Paris, a whirlwind relationship that gets Marina to uproot and move herself and her 10 year old daughter to Oklahoma when Neil returns home. Once there, things aren’t as rosy, and the new couple begin to fight. At first you think it is run-of-the-mill relationship problems, but I began to realize after awhile that Marina is either bipolar or borderline personality, with manic highs and depressive, self-destructive lows. Neil’s eye starts to stray, and by the time Marina’s visa expires, they know they don’t have a future together, and she leaves to go back to Paris. Once there though, she feels like she’s missing something. When her daughter goes to live with her ex (the girl’s father), Marina returns to the US and begs Neil back. During this high, they get married, but again, things go south. It’s a frustrating film to watch. The cinematography is beautiful, as you’d expect from a Malick film, but I couldn’t get behind any of the characters, and honestly didn’t care enough about any of them by the end to really worry about what happened to them. ★★

Malick’s next picture was Knight of Cups, in 2015. If the narrative is light and obtuse in To the Wonder, it completely disappears in Knight of Cups. For 2 hours, we just follow Rick (Christian Bale) around, and see various relationships with people in his life, from girlfriends to family. That’s it in a nutshell. There’s no overarching plot, no destination to which we are headed, as far as I can tell. Just glimpses of life. Though the camera strays, it never leaves Rick completely, and the focus on the life around him provides the only real clarity in this picture. And this provided a little more grounding than the previous film, so I did overall enjoy it a hair more, even if it seems though the movie is more like art than fiction. There’s a plethora of A-list talent in minor roles (Natalie Portman, Cate Blanchett, Antonio Banderas, and more), and even recognizable actors with non-speaking parts in amongst the crowds of the constant parties, so that was cool I guess. Actors just clamoring to be in a Malick picture. ★★½

Song to Song was filmed just after the previous film, but not released until 2017 (apparently Malick had 8 hours of film to edit down to its runtime of 2). This one follows a trio of characters, Faye (Rooney Mara), BV (Ryan Gosling), and Cook (Michael Fassbender). Faye is a musician looking for her big break, BV is a songwriter just starting to see some success, and Cook is a powerful record producer with a lot of clout. Faye’s been sleeping with Cook, “paying her dues” as she says, when she meets BV and starts a relationship with him, growing to really like him. However, she continues seeing the dominating Cook on the side. The three start to hang out together, with BV knowing nothing about what’s going on between the other two. Cook ends up marrying a waitress, Rhonda (Natalie Portman), but stills woos Faye on the side. Things become murkier when BV and Cook have a falling out over copyrights to songs BV has written, and Cook then offers Faye a record contract. When Faye comes clean to BV, they break up and pursue other people. It’s a never-ending sea of people floating into and out of all of their lives, and it became dizzying try to keep it all straight, especially with Malick’s short scenes, where nothing is said plainly and all too much is just hinted at. After these three films, I was just left wanting a straight forward picture with a story I could follow. Easy to see why, even with the acting talent in these three pictures, they are not spoken of in such high terms as Malick’s earlier stuff. ★½

The Magic Flute is a film very different from anything else Ingmar Bergman did. It is a filmed version of Mozart’s famous opera of the same name, from a Swedish language version of the original German libretto. Bergman had been enthralled with The Magic Flute since he first saw it performed as a child, and he finally got the chance to produce it in 1975. The film is put together as an audience watching the staged opera, with spectators in the seats and cardboard stage sets instead of 3D props. The story follows Prince Tamino, who is set on a quest by the Queen of the Night to rescue the lovely Pamina from the vile clutches of Sarastro. Tamino learns though that Sarastro is the good guy, and Tamino undergoes 3 trials in order to prove himself worthy of marrying Pamina. The comic relief in the opera is supplied by Tamino’s traveling companion Papageno, who also wants to win himself a lovely bride, but who can’t seem to pass his trials. Besides having great material (The Magic Flute is one of the most famous operas of all time, even if you know nothing about opera, you’ve probably heard the Queen of the Night’s aria a time or two and didn’t realize it), Bergman’s version is enthralling to watch. Since Bergman needed real opera singers, none of his usual acting troupe are present, but these actors are obviously trained performers, and it is an enchanting performance. Though it has dark elements, it is probably one of the most light-hearted films Bergman has made, in stark contrast to the often introspective, and sometimes downright brooding films he is so famously known for. I highly recommend it, it’s a great opportunity to sit back and enjoy one of the greatest directors of all time putting together a performance from one of the greatest composers of all time. ★★★★★

To put it bluntly, The Serpent’s Egg sucks. The weird coincidence is the last really bad film from Bergman was also English language, The Touch. That one teamed a Bergman regular (Bibi Andersson) with an American actor (Elliott Gould), and The Serpent’s Egg does the same, with Liv Ullmann partnered with David Carradine. Taking place in Berlin in the early 1920’s amongst the rise of the Nazi party during the economic hardships Germany faced after World War I, Carradine plays Jewish American Abel Rosenberg, who came to Germany with his brother Max as part of a circus troupe, but is now left stranded after the suicide of said brother. Abel initially finds solace in Max’s ex-wife Manuela (Ullmann), a by-night cabaret dancer and by-day prostitute, but events spiral out of control quickly for him. The film is a jumbled mess of off-kilter subplots and out-of-left-field twists, with really no Bergman-esque introspection. The film boils down to “Nazi’s are bad.” There are flashes of Bergman’s ouervre, such as when Manuela talks to the priest about her guilt in not being there for Max, perhaps attributing to his suicide, and her ensuing struggle with faith, but these moments are fleeting. The movie just isn’t very good. ★

Autumn Sonata gets Bergman back to what he’s good at: a look at the female psyche and loneliness in the world. Eva (Liv Ullmann) is wife to a local pastor, and has an estranged relationship with her mother Charlotte (the great Ingrid Bergman, in her final film role). Eva is breathlessly awaiting Charlotte’s visit, the first time they’ve seen each other in 7 years. Upon her arrival, Charlotte is distressed to learn that her other daughter, Helena, has been living with Eva too. Helena has been suffering from a paralyzing illness, leaving her unable to move on her own and barely talk, and it is obvious that Charlotte is uncomfortable around her. Charlotte is an accomplished pianist, spending much of her life away from the family while touring, and the film plays out as Eva airs her grievances of a life felt abandoned and unloved. It is an emotional film, about a girl who only wanted to loved, and a mother who, due to her own upbringing, admits she was incapable of it. Liv is good, but Ingrid steals the camera, as she did for all of her career. She received her seventh and final Oscar nomination for this picture. ★★★½

After the Rehearsal is one of those pictures that is fascinating as a look behind the curtain, so to speak, but I’m not sure it makes for a good movie. It has just three characters: Henrik, Rakel, and Anna, and takes place entirely on a stage after the rehearsal of an upcoming play. Henrik, the aging director, is sitting at a desk musing when Anna, his young beautiful star, walks onstage. They talk of the play a bit before conversation turns to Anna’s hatred for her mother Rakel, who always put her career ahead of her daughter. This makes Henrik think back to a time when Rakel approached Henrik after a rehearsal of their own, and invited him to her room for sex, though Rakel rambles a bit about her failing health and looks due to her alcoholism. Back in the present, Anna poses the question of what would happen if she were to enter into a relationship with Henrik like her mother did, and Henrik and Anna spend some time considering the ramifications, none of which turn out good for anyone involved, because Henrik too always puts his art first. I’m the sure the film was therapeutic for Bergman, who notoriously had relationships with several of his leading ladies over the years, and admits he wasn’t a good father to his children (he couldn’t remember their ages, and reckoned his life by his films and not by years). Excellent performances by all three leads, and especially Ingrid Thulin as Rakel. Fans of the stage, I think, would particularly like this picture, as a look behind the scenes of interpersonal jealousies and fears that can develop. ★★★

I should have listened to the critics (and my instincts) and avoided the film Radioactive. But I thought, Rosamund Pike is a good actress and I tend to like biopics, so why not? The story of Marie Skłosowska Curie, it follows her marriage to fellow scientist Pierre Curie, their initial pioneering research into radioactivity (and discovery of 2 new elements, radium and polonium), and subsequent heath problems from being around such elements for so long. Despite being a fascinating person, the first woman to win a Nobel prize (receiving 2 in her life), the movie is a jumbled mess. It jumps around way too much in both story and themes, telling Curie’s life, but also inexplicably showing disasters in the future which resulted from her research, like nuclear bombs and the Chernobyl disaster. And even events in her life are hit willy nilly, bouncing around worse than an errant ping pong ball. Pike does her best with the material, but no one could save this disaster. The only thing the film did for me was get me to look up Curie’s life, and learn more than the film told me, including some fascinating tidbits. Did you know all of her research and papers, even her cookbooks, are still so radioactive today that they are stored in lead containers, and can’t be handled without protective gear? ★½

Sweet Bean is a lovely film from Japanese director Naomi Kawase. It is about a man, Sentaro, who runs a small dorayaki (traditional Japanese sweet) shop, frequently visited by local students but not many others. He is visited one day by an older woman in her 70’s, Tokue, who begs for a job as his assistant, even though he really doesn’t need one. He tries to say no, but she woos him with her delicious bean paste, the central ingredient to dorayaki. Tokue has disfigured hands, so she teaches Sentaro her secret recipe, and the new dish is a hit, drawing huge crowds. However, Sentaro learns that Tokue’s deformity was caused by leprosy, and when this is recognized by others, business takes a nose dive. Sentaro must balance his friendship with Tokue and his obligation to the people who own his shop. Some films like this can get sappy, or very introspective, but this one isn’t neither, so even though you have to be good with subtitles, it is a very accessible picture. Really nice film. ★★★½

The Invisible Man is a tale of two halves. The first half is great, the second, not so much. It certainly starts out right. Cecelia is running away from an abusive, controlling boyfriend, Adrian, in the dead of night. Total silence creates a completely suspenseful, edge-of-your-seat escape, and even when it shifts 2 weeks into the future, you still feel her fear when she walks to the mailbox. Cecelia finds relief when she gets news that Adrian has been found dead of an apparent suicide, and as a bonus, he left her a bunch of money. However, she begins to experience strange things, such as feelings that she’s not alone in a room, or a wisp of wind against her neck. It’s a good scary flick through this. Then when the “invisible man” is unveiled, the movie becomes something else. It loses the scares and becomes like a sci-fi thriller. There’s some good moments still, but there’s some weird stuff in there that feels out of place from the earlier set-up. I enjoyed the ending ok, but I can’t say the movie is as good as the critics made it out to be. Nothing really groundbreaking here, though props to Elizabeth Moss for showing off her acting chops on the big screen in a leading role after so many supporting parts, and years of successful stints on TV. ★★½

1BR is a decent, low budget horror flick from first-time writer/director David Marmor, and featuring newcomer Nicole Brydon Bloom in the lead as Sarah. Sarah is new to LA, running away from something at home. She’s working as a temp and has just landed her first apartment out there, with a tight, friendly community in the building. She has trouble sleeping at night though, with strange noises coming from the plumbing, and other weird bursts throughout the nights after dark. She also starts getting threatening letters slipped under her door, due to Sarah having snuck in her cat despite the building’s no pet policy. A few of her neighbors, who seemed nice and welcoming at first, start to come off as a bit weird, and there’s obviously more to this community than what Sarah was first aware. When the reasons become clear, the viewer is rewarded, not to a paranormal spooky story, but to a (could be?) plausible thriller. Bloom’s not bad in the lead, and is more than just a pretty face, which is obviously the trap many of these kinds of movies lure you in with. ★★★

The Way Back is a sports drama film about a man finding his way back to life. Jack Cunningham (Ben Affleck) is a local legend in his area but has never followed up on the promise of his high school basketball star days. His marriage is on the rocks and he’s a high functioning alcoholic, working construction but clandestinely drinking throughout the day and hitting it hard at night. When the basketball coach of his alma mater, Bishop Hayes, becomes ill, the Father of the school approaches Jack about coaching. The school hasn’t made the playoffs in 25 years, since Jack led them to state championships. As Jack starts to rebuild the program, he has to rebuild himself, and we learn what brought him to this place in his life as the film goes along. The movie is unsurprisingly chuck full of cliches, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad movie. Affleck shows again that he can really act when he gets the right part (or, more likely, invests himself in the role). The film doesn’t break any new ground in the genre, but it is a good sports film with a lot of heart. I’m a sports nerd and tend to overrate sports movies, so take that as you will, but still, I really enjoyed it. ★★★★

I set out to watch some Jacques Tati (born Jacques Tatischeff, with some Russian origin) films, and about 30 minutes into the first picture, thought it might be an abandoned project. I didn’t know much about Tati when I started, other than he was a highly regarded French comedic actor and director. He started in some shorts, but it wasn’t long before he wrote and directed his own films (which is what I’m writing about today). He came up in the business as a mime, which explains why sight gags are such a heavy part of his comedy, and knowing this, I think I was expecting more slapstick. There was some in the first picture, but not exactly what I was expecting. He ended up directing just 6 full length pictures, so I watched them all.

Getting back to my first viewing experience. Jour de fête (The Big Day) was his first major picture, released in 1949. It takes place in a little village in France, with a traveling carnival coming to town for the day. The troupe sets up the rides and games, and through it all, the main character is the town’s bumbling mailman, Francois (portrayed by Tati). Tati goofs around with the townspeople and carnival travelers, with the highlight of the film being a video Francois watches at the carnival showing the great prowess and gadgets used by American post office deliverymen, and consequently, Francois’ desire to improve his delivery mechanisms to equal that of the Americans. Maybe I was expecting something different, or just wasn’t in the mood, but after half an hour, I stepped away and thought about giving up on Tati. The gags seemed really dated (I didn’t laugh once), and I figured it just wasn’t for me. I’m glad I came back to finish the film the next day though; I ended up liking it a lot more with fresh eyes. Tati delivers a bit of charm in his misfortune, a la Charlie Chaplin, and the movie has other intriguing elements that set it apart from other run-of-the-mill fair, like the old lady villager who talks to herself throughout the film as she wanders (noses around) from person to person, but what she’s really doing is narrating to us viewers. I wouldn’t call this film a favorite or anything, but it offered enough to give Tati another go, and thus…. ★★

Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot (Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday) was more of what I was expecting. A truly funny and enjoyable film, it doesn’t have much of a plot, but that isn’t its purpose. It introduces us to Tati’s famous character M. Hulot, a bumbling member of the bourgeois, who goes to a lakeside village for a weekend vacation. Hulot always finds himself in the vicinity of trouble, though not always at fault. When he leaves the door open, wild gales of wind blow stuff around the room. When he is changing a flat tire, the tire falls into some wet leaves and is mistaken as a wreath, gaining Hulot entrance into a funeral where he is welcomed as family. He can’t get on a horse without it fighting him like a stubborn mule. And his broken-down jalopy of a car provides ample entertainment throughout. There is very little dialogue in the film, in fact, we hear Hulot’s voice only a couple times, to introduce himself to others. Tons of sight gags poking fun at the various classes at the beach, and unlike Jour de fête, it feels fresh still to this day. This is the film that put Tati on the map in 1953, and was even entered for consideration at Cannes that year, a rare comedic entry (and it won him a Critic’s prize). Now I see why Tati was considered such an inspiration to comedic actors and directors who followed. ★★★★

If his previous film made Tati popular in France, his next, Mon Oncle (My Uncle), in 1958, made him popular around the world. Hulot is back for more escapades, this time in an urban setting. Floating around his sister’s family, including her husband and child, Hulot is a man with whom modern gadgets don’t seem to get along, which is very funny since his sister lives in an ultra-modern home with all the bells and whistles, and his brother-in-law is trying to get him a job at his plastics factory. The film does a whole lot of poking fun at our continuing reliance on electronics and advancing technology, even when it makes life harder rather than easier. The picture again is light on plot but heavy on substance. Outstanding slapstick and visual comedy, and brilliantly done. There are some gags that are shown again and again throughout the picture, and rather than grow tired, you can’t help but laugh harder and harder when they unexpectedly show up. Much like the previous film, dialogue is overall very sparse (Hulot himself has almost nothing to say), but this style of comedy doesn’t need it. Mon Oncle was Tati’s first color picture*, and won the Oscar for best foreign language film. ★★★★½

*Tati wanted his first picture, Jour de fête, to be in color, and even used two cameras simultaneously filming side-by-side (one in color, the other in black and white, as a “backup”). The color was going to be developed by a new French rival to Technicolor called Thomson-Color, but it proved too costly and difficult to print, and the movie was only shown sans color for decades. After his death, Tati’s family later colorized the film to realize his dream.

Mon Oncle may have been Tati’s most famous piece at the time, but in the decades since, PlayTime has become what many consider to be his magnum opus. It is without a doubt an impressive picture. Hulot has finally come to the big city, Paris. He’s there for an interview of unknown origin, but in case you haven’t figured it out by now, that detail means nothing to the movie. There are a few overarching plots, including American tourists around town, and the grand opening of a new nightclub, which gets out of hand. One such tourist and Hulot may be considered the two main characters, but honestly, the film only marginally follows them more than anyone else. In fact, Hulot himself disappears for huge stretches of film. Tati’s trademark light dialogue is in full force, and there isn’t much music either, but there is a part halfway through when some wistful tunes play as Hulot has just escaped his latest run-in with technology, and it definitely creates a longing for simpler days. As I mentioned, this is an impressive film, with a monumental cast of characters filling out the city, and the sets created for the movie are ginormous. It was the most expensive French film ever made at the time in 1967, took 3 years to complete, and nearly bankrupted Tati when it didn’t make back its budget (partly his on fault; he shot it in 70mm and refused to make a 35mm cut for those theaters who didn’t have the capabilities to show the larger format). Without Hulot to focus on, I honestly didn’t enjoy this one as much. Still lots of funny moments, but without a hero, the film lost focus for me. ★★★

Nearly 20 years after Tati introduced us to Hulot, his final appearance came in 1971’s Trafic (tired of the character even during PlayTime, Tati had planned to kill him off in a future film, but died before he could make it). Trafic is a fantastic road comedy, released long before National Lampoon’s Vacation. Hulot is working for a car company as a designer, and they want to take their latest model (which is tricked out with all the latest technology and gadgets) to a car show. The trip from Belgium to Amsterdam should only take a couple hours, but in Tati’s universe where everything bad that can happen will, it takes 3 days. Car accidents, blown tires, running out of gas, and of course traffic are just a few of things our hero has to deal with. The film has a smaller feel that PlayTime, more of a return to roots of the earlier Hulot pictures, and as such, I found a return to the charm of those as well. Trafic shows off beautiful, vibrant colors, gorgeous shots, and Tati’s ability to let gags develop, sometimes a little slow, but always well done. And the ending felt fitting as well for M. Hulot. ★★★★

With PlayTime having wiped much of his fortune, and Trafic not performing well enough in theaters to make it back, Tati made one more picture before his death. Parade was a made-for-tv film for Swedish television (with longtime Ingmar Bergman photography expert Gunnar Fischer serving as cinematographer), released in 1974. It’s not really a film in any true definition, in that there isn’t a story or characters to follow. Tati plays the master of ceremonies during the performance of a circus, and the movie is mostly just the the various acts over the course on 90 minutes of the show. There are some of Tati’s traditional sight gags, mostly during the intermission when we see the audience interactions, but honestly this film is a real bore. It’s just not very funny and barely entertaining, which is a real downer after some of the great films that came before it. Still, doesn’t take away from the middle four movies, which are a lot of fun. ★

Bull is the kind of low budget, indie art film that critics eat up. It stars newcomer Amber Havard as Kris, a 14-year-old girl in a poor neighborhood, facing the kinds of problems that many such kids do. Her mom’s in jail, so she and her sister are living with their grandma. Kris looks to be following in her mom’s footsteps; she’s getting in trouble, hanging with the rough crowd, etc. Her latest indiscretion is breaking into her neighbor’s house and throwing a big party when he’s away for the weekend. She gets lucky though, because when he returns, he decides to put her to work around the house rather than press charges. The neighbor is Abe (Rob Morgan, who’s been in plenty of things but which I recognize most recently as Turk from the Netflix Marvel shows). Abe is a former bull rider who is still working in the business, and through his work ethic and unflinching way of not letting this hard life beat him down, Kris starts to see a better way to live. I found Havard’s acting a bit wooden, which can be expected for young first-timers, but Morgan is perfect in this film. It is a quiet, contemplative film, sometimes a little too direct where a softer touch may have left a more lasting impression, but a solid picture for indie lovers. ★★★½

Fans of Guy Ritchie’s earlier crime films will find plenty to like in his latest, The Gentlemen. Featuring an all-star cast including Matthew McConaughey, Charlie Hunnam, Hugh Grant, Colin Farrell, and Henry Golding, it is about a long-time crook, Michael Pearson (McConaughey) who wants to sell his lucrative weed-growing business in the UK and retire. Of course, selling a 400 million dollar business isn’t easy even when it is legal, and thus the film plays out. Full of crass language, double-crosses, bloody and violent clashes, and just the right amount of laugh-out-loud moments, it is a crime action film that has plenty to like. The characters are over the top, and there are perhaps a few too-many “gotcha” moments in the final third, but damn if it isn’t a whole lot of fun. ★★★★

The Last Full Measure is based on a true story, and tells the tale of William Pitsenbarger. He was a Vietnam War hero who left a med evac chopper during a fierce battle to help wounded soldiers on the ground get out safely. Ultimately, he saved over 60 men before he himself died. 30+ years later, William’s family and fellow soldiers are trying to get him posthumously awarded the medal of honor. Told in flashback to that battle in 1966 as well as the current day with a politician digging into the details surrounding that fight, the film is heavy on facts but light on drama. Despite a fantastic cast (Samuel L Jackson, William Hurt, Ed Harris, Christopher Plummer, Peter Fonda, and Sebastian Stan, “the Winter Soldier” from Marvel), this film is rough to watch. It has all the great elements of a bad movie: choppy editing, dialogue that jumps around too much, and a disjointed story. Hokey writing doesn’t help. And those great actors are giving some of the worst performances I remember seeing, which I can only chalk up to bad directing. The real story of Pitsenbarger deserves better than this. ★

Sometimes Always Never is an off-beat comedy with some heart thrown in, from director Carl Hunter. The film is about Alan on a search for long-lost son Michael, who left the family years before after a quarrel during a game of Scrabble. Second son Peter joins Alan in the beginning of the film as they go to identify a body which has lately washed up on shore, hoping it isn’t Michael (it isn’t). A scrabble enthusiast, Alan knows the dictionary inside and out, and he puts his vocabulary to use throughout the film in entertaining, verbose fashion, to the delight of his grandson (Peter’s son) but to the ire of Peter, who always felt he played second fiddle to Michael, the prodigal son. While Alan’s search for Michael initially seems to be the main plot element, we realize before too long that the film is mostly about healing, with Peter trying to come to grips with how Alan raised the boys after the death of their mother, and Alan needing to open up walls that have been closed for too long. The bright vivid colors and eccentric humor will hearken to a Wes Anderson film, but while the writing isn’t as good, Bill Nighy’s spot-on performance as Alan is well worth a viewing. E-N-T-E-R-T-A-I-N-I-N-G, 13 points. ★★★½

Saint Frances is one of the best new films I’ve seen in awhile. It is about Bridget, whose life hasn’t turned out exactly the way she’d planned. The tone of the film is set when she’s at a party talking to a guy. He’s talking about the path his life is taking and she admits she’s only a server at a restaurant. He says, “Well, you’re still in your 20’s, you’ll figure it out,” and she replies, “I’m 34.” Embarrassed, he can only say, “Well, you look really good.” Bridget gets an opportunity to nanny for the summer, for a gay couple getting ready to have their second child. Bridget will be looking after their first child, Franny, a very smart, well-brought-up child who is also, like a lot of kids, very willful. At the same time, Bridget has a one night stand with a young 26 year old guy, starts a semi-regular relationship with him, and ends up pregnant. Deciding to abort because that’s the last thing she needs right now, the films deals with this and its fallout, as well as a whole bunch of other things that this crazy mixed up world throws at us. One of Franny’s moms, the birther, is dealing with postpartum depression, and of course there’s the whole being gay with a family and how others react to that. It would be easy for this film to either feel really heavy, or for the comedy to come off as glib, but neither comes true. It is funny without poking fun, it is endearing without being sappy. Outstanding writing by newcomer Kelly O’Sullivan, who also portrayed Bridget, this is a film for today. You’ll laugh and be moved, and maybe even come to learn a few things. ★★★★★

Night Train to Munich is, after a couple early surprises, a very straight forward war/spy thriller, with a whole lot of comedy thrown in. In 1939 as Germany is invading Czechoslovakia, a Czech scientist makes his escape to Britain, but his adult daughter, Anna, isn’t so lucky. The Germans want to use her to get to her dad, but she of course doesn’t cooperate. Thankfully she finds a friend in a fellow prisoner named Karl, who helps her escape from the concentration camp. If it sounds too good to be true, it is, as Karl is a German spy trying to get Anna’s dad out of hiding. As soon as Karl has his target in hand, he secrets them all to Berlin. Their savior is Dickie Randall, a British spy who decides to take a page out of Karl’s book and impersonate a German officer. He boards the train to Munich with hopes to rescue Anna and her father before the other Germans find out he’s not who he says he is. Lots of laughs to keep the tension from getting too heavy, poking especially at Nazi Germany. It was written in 1939 and released in 1940, before Britain had suffered much in the war and Hitler’s atrocities were widely known, otherwise the jokes may not have been so well received. Overall I enjoyed the movie while I was watching it, but I believe ultimately it’s not going to be a very memorable picture for me. After those very early surprises about Karl, the film is very paint-by-numbers with no real surprises. I’d probably watch it again, because it is entertaining, but it isn’t genre defining or anything. ★★★

Odd Man Out takes place in the late 1940s and focuses on the IRA in Belfast, though, for whatever reason, the words “Belfast” and “IRA” are never used (though director Reed does condemn “illegal” groups in the opening intertitles). Johnny McQueen has just escaped from prison and is already planning another heist with his fellow conspirators. They’re going to rob a profitable business and use the money to fund the organization. However, during the getaway, Johnny struggles with a man and kills him, and is himself shot in the arm. He isn’t able to make it safely to the getaway car and is left to roam the streets. The majority of the film takes place on this long night, as Johnny attempts to make it the couple miles to his safe house, as the police tighten their circle around him. The Irish residents in the area run the gamut of clandestinely rooting for Johnny to make it, to apathy to his cause as long as they aren’t involved, to openly trying to help the police locate him. Reed tries to make us root for Johnny too; perhaps to ease past Hollywood code at the time, they really play up Johnny’s guilt at having killed a man, and his own doubts about the violence of the IRA. There are plenty of tense moments and a surprisingly shocking ending, but honestly there were some long stretches in the middle where Johnny disappeared from the camera for awhile and other various characters decided what they were going to do with him. I think a lot of trim could have been cut to make it closer to 90 minutes instead of 120, and it would be a tighter film, but who am I to argue with a celebrated director. ★★★½

The Fallen Idol is told almost entirely through the eyes of Philippe, the young son of a French ambassador, who idolizes the English butler in the embassy, Baines. Baines’ wife is a bit of a shrew, and Baines has a younger girlfriend on the side, who Baines introduces to Phil as his niece when caught with her at a store. Mrs Baines weasels the info out of Phil, and sets a trap to catch her husband in the act by pretending to leave the embassy for the day. When she returns and catches Baines with his young girlfriend, they have an argument. Baines turns to leave, and his wife climbs a window to try to get a peek at her competition, and falls to her death. Phil didn’t see it happen, and suspects that Baines killed his wife. He makes a couple offhand comments that the police overhear, making Baines an immediate suspect, and he doesn’t help his cause when he lies to the police to hide the fact that his girlfriend was there as well. Very fun and gripping film, but may I again talk about how much I hate child actors? For every good performance you get, you have to watch 10 that are God awful. I wanted to reach through the screen and slap Phil myself. He’s a big distraction, especially in the final 5 minutes, where you can see him grating on the real actors on screen, no matter how much they and their characters try to ignore him. ★★★½

This next movie is the reason I wanted to watch some Carol Reed films. The Third Man is a highly acclaimed film, widely regarded as one of the best British films ever made. I love it when they are worthy of their praise. This film is fantastic, full of beautiful, rich noir imagery and a soundtrack, a very un-noir-like zither accompaniment, which may seem off-putting at first but which comes together brilliantly in the end. Martins is an American new to Vienna. He’s come because his long-time friend Harry has promised a job, but when he arrives, he discovers Harry has just died under very suspicious circumstances. In this post-World War II environment, Vienna is jointly ruled by Russians, Americans, British, and French, so there’s a lot of bureaucracy to sift through, but Martins is able to piece together that Harry was hit by a car, and some people say 2 people moved his body from the street, while others hint that there was a third person who helped. Heightening Martins’ suspicions, some say he died instantly, while other reports say he lived long enough to give some instructions. Involved somehow is Harry’s local girlfriend, and the British police suspect that Harry was into some nefarious plots that got him killed. The big reveal with about 30 minutes to go is fantastic, and well worth staying away from spoilers. The detailed environment of a city just removed from devastating war, with crumbled buildings not yet rebuilt, and various governments fighting over the scraps, adds to the ambiance of the experience. Go in blind, sit back in a dark room, and enjoy movie making at its finest. ★★★★★

The Running Man (no, not Arnold’s Running Man) came much later, in 1963. In it, Rex has faked his own death to get a big insurance settlement, and he and his wife Stella plan on running off with the money. Stella has had her doubts from the beginning, but she’s gone along with it, and puts on just a good enough show when the insurance agent, Stephen, stops by for a check-in. Rex goes off to Spain, and shortly after, Stella joins him. They think they are in the clear, and just as Rex starts to think he’ll pull the same trick again with a new name, Stephen shows up in Spain. Supposedly on vacation, Stephen immediately earns the suspicions of Rex and Stella, who thing the jig is up. They continue the local ruse they’ve set up, that Rex is a rich sheep farmer from Australia, but they don’t think they’re fooling anybody. Gets a little hokey in the end, where it pulls out all the clichés of 60s film, but it didn’t ruin the experience for me. It doesn’t have the depth of The Third Man, but it is still an entertaining movie, and filmed very well in widescreen with popping colors and gorgeous scenery. ★★★

Almost as soon as I started getting into art house and foreign independent films a couple years ago, I started hearing the name Satyajit Ray. An Indian film director, his work is highly regarded as some of the best films ever made, and not just from India. I’m just now sitting down to 5 of his earliest films, and I have to say, I don’t know why I waited this long.

Pather Panchali (Song of the Little Road) was Ray’s first picture in 1955. Made on a minuscule budget with non-professional actors (and even many first-timers in the film crew!), it follows a Bengali family. They are the poorest of the families in their small, rural community. Father Harihar doesn’t have a trade; he always wanted to be a priest, but he struggles to earn a living as one in such a small community, so he takes odd jobs to help the family scrape by. With him away often looking for work, the matriarch, Sarbajaya, runs the house, looking after their kids, Durga and Apu, and butting heads with the town’s old woman, “auntie,” who is homeless but allowed to stay with them. There’s a loose story about Durga and Apu growing up in this small community with its traditions, while the greater world around them chugs along to the future (Apu doesn’t know what power lines are when he strays further from home, and is amazed by the train when it goes through), but the film is best viewed as a glimpse in the life of struggling family. I’m not always a fan of realism in films (most non-professional actors make me cringe), but here, it works to perfection. The actors are more than good, they are great, and Ray’s directorial hand has patience and an eye for stretching moments to beautiful perfection. The local Indian music blends wonderfully too and brings the viewer into the film. I can’t believe this film was made in 1955, except for being in black and white, it feels like a brand new art film that would be a hit if it came out today. ★★★★★

Aparajito (The Unvanquished) was not a planned sequel, but after the success of his first film, Ray felt pressure to continue the story of the family. **Since this is a sequel, SPOILERS ahead for the ending of the previous picture.** With the death of Durga, the family decides to move to a big city, Varanasi, where the father can finally find enough work as a priest. He does start earning better wages, but the family is still poor, and they can’t seem to get ahead. After a couple years, Harihar becomes ill and dies, forcing Sarbajaya to decide to take Apu back to a rural community. Her dream is for Apu to become a priest like his father, but Apu is still intrigued by science, education, and the greater world out there. He convinces his mom to let him enroll in a local school, and several years later, he is ready to go to college, having earned good enough grades for a scholarship. Against his mother’s best laid plans, Abu does indeed head off to Calcutta, where his studies continue. When he does return home to visit Sarbajaya, he is bored and can’t wait to get back to the bustling city. I can go into the fantastic symbolism of rural life and traditional Indian values/religion, vs the exciting futurism that Calcutta offers, but to get into that too much would spoil the ending. I generally like Pather Panchali more, as this second picture was more straight forward and less esoteric, but I still loved the course Apu has set out for himself, and can’t wait to see where the final film takes him. ★★★½

A couple years passed since the previous picture, and in between Ray made a film titled The Music Room (reviewed below) which cemented him as an international star. In 1959 he returned to Apu to complete the trilogy with Apur Sansar (The World of Apu). Apu has graduated from college, but can’t pursue an advanced degree due to lack of funds. Still poor, he rents a room in a rundown building and makes a few dollars tutoring, while working on an autobiographical novel, which by all accounts shows a lot of promise. A former college friend invites him to a wedding as his +1, and the day will change Apu’s life. It turns out the groom in this arranged marriage has a mental disorder, and the superstitious family of the bride is sure that if she isn’t married today, at the appointed auspicious hour, she will never be married. Apu is roped into being the savior and marrying the young bride for her and her family’s honor. Aparna is from a wealthy family, and when she gets back to Apu’s little rented room and sees the poor conditions, she has her private cry, but then embraces her new life, and Apu as her husband. Things are finally looking up for Apu, as he and Aparna fall in love with each other over time, but another tragedy strikes to upset the balance. Apu must face himself in the mirror and decide what kind of man he will be, and by the end, we’ve come full circle on the life he started in the first picture. It’s a fitting and beautiful ending to this trilogy, and a delectable beginning to Ray’s directorial career. ★★★★½

Jalsaghar (The Music Room) follows an old zamindar (wealthy landlord aristocrat) named Biswanbhar Roy as he watches his way of life crumble around him, both figuratively and literally. His land holdings have dwindled over his lifetime, with both poor decisions and the government breaking things up, leaving him in debt, with little more to trade on than his reputation. Roy is particularly perturbed by his neighbor, Mahim Ganguly, who is “new money.” Mahim is throwing lavish parties, the likes of which Roy used to, and Roy continues to try to match him in both extravagance and appeal, selling off furniture and family jewels to hire out the best musicians and entertainers. The focal point in Roy’s house is the music room, an ornate hall where his parties would take place. It’s a rich and multi-layered film which you can glean a lot from in multiple viewings. It lends itself to us wanting to like Roy, despite his ugly competitiveness with Mahim which costs him everything by the end. Mahim on the other hand is genuinely nice to Roy, but he is also depicted as uncouth, not always being respectful to the performers at the parties. Both men throw the parties to show off to their neighbors, but obviously for different reasons. Ray used this picture to bring dancing and musical numbers into his films, something the Apu trilogy was lacking, and which brought him criticism in his own country. Musical numbers were at the time a regular part of India’s films, though even here, he wasn’t able to satisfy the critics. The music was usually an interlude to break up the film, and Ray instead incorporated the music into the picture, making it part of the story. Whatever his contemporary native land critics thought, The Music Room would go on to become an international hit, and it is a perfect film. ★★★★★

Mahanagar (The Big City) brought Ray out of the 1920’s and was his first film set in modern times (released in 1963, but taking place in the mid-50s). The Mazumdar family is struggling to make ends meet. Subrata is a banker at a time when banks are failing around Calcutta, and he and his wife Arati and son are living in a tiny apartment with his aging parents and his sister. He begins considering getting a second job when Arati decides to get a job herself. The thought of a woman working sends the house into a tizzy. Subrata reluctantly agrees, but his father is vehemently against it, and even stops talking to his son and daughter-in-law. Arati becomes a door-to-door salesman, and is very good at it. In addition to her salary, she makes a great commission which is able to buy gifts for everyone in the family (though the old man refuses his). Racked with the guilt of seeing his wife work, Subrata decides to get that second job, but instead, his bank becomes a casualty of the times and Arati becomes the sole breadwinner for the entire household. The film deals with gender equality, but also race issues/relations, with a coworker of Arati being an Anglo-Indian named Edith, a race of people left over in India from from when they were under British control, and who were often not accepted by neither the English nor the Indian. The ending of the film is a bit sentimental, but on the whole it is a great film, with outstanding performances by the entire cast, and eye-opening themes which Ray brought together to great effect. ★★★★½

Finally, a quick, short film titled Kapurush (The Coward), from 1965. It’s a cool companion piece to The Big City, as it too has a modern setting, and is (quietly) about a strong woman as well. Amitabha (Soumitra Chatterjee, the adult Apu from The World of Apu) is traveling when his car breaks down outside a little town. An older gentleman, Bimal (Haradhan Bandopadhyay, Arati’s boss in The Big City) offers to put him up in his house for the night. A grateful Amitabha accepts, but when they arrive to the house, he is dismayed to find Bimal’s much younger wife is his own ex-girlfriend. Karuna (Madhabi Mukherjee, the charming Arati from The Big City) had a falling out with Amitabha a few years previous, and the story of their relationship unfolds for the viewer in heartrending fashion. Reunited now, Amitabha begs Karuna to come away with him, not understanding how she can be in love with the older Bimal. But Karuna is coy, deflecting her true feelings, and not giving Amitabha the satisfaction of knowing what is going on in her head. The film is only about an hour, but it is a wonderful little piece with truly amazing performances from actors who would go on to be considered some of India’s greatest of all time. I think it is safe to say, after watching these movies, Satyajit Ray has become one of my favorites, and I look forward to seeing more of his stuff in the future. ★★★★