Hold Me While I’m Naked

There’s a lot of things in life worth livin’ for… isn’t there?

George Kuchar. Does the name sound familiar? Well, it shouldn’t, and if I had my way, you’d never have known it in the first place. Yes, you likely only know it because I just told it to you, but it’s not my fault; I’m hogtied into talking about the man, due to the presence of his short film, Hold Me While I’m Naked, on the List. Why this is on here, I have no idea; why it even exists, I haven’t a clue. This is the sort of short that is insulting to an aspiring filmmaker such as myself, since a film of this quality and content could easily have been squirted out by any competently artistic ten-year-old.

This has all the aesthetic and sensibility of a student film gone hideously out of whack. The video and sound quality were less than stellar, to say the least; most of the plot just seemed to be about the one filmmaker and a lot of naked and sexually alluring women, which isn’t much of a plot, but makes for one hell of a selling point. There’s some interesting images in this, I’ll give it that, but nothing that screams, “Oh my god, you HAVE to see this before you die”. Really, there’s nothing to this at all, and yet, everywhere I look, I can find at least one review or bullet point about this short calling it a masterpiece. Why? How? How is this a masterpiece? `Really, that word is tossed around so much it has lost its relevance, but even in this watered-down lexicon, I cannot find any place for such a word to be thrown at this short.

Okay, at this point, I’m just emptying the rest of my clip into the dead corpse that lies before me, so I’ll stop, and just say this. Should you see this film? No, not really. It may not be as purely depraved as Flaming Creatures, or as baselessly random as Un Chien Andalou, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything of worth to be had here. It’s mostly just your average cliché American wannabe-Nouvelle-Vague student film; a mash-up of various elements with little to no care as to how they should go together. I suspect the elements of the underground film scene of yesteryear are mostly self-referential, as certain “major” players in the underground all seem to have one obligatory slot on the list, seemingly for no other reason than all the others have a slot of their own. Oh well; seems I’m not fully out of the woods quite yet.

Arbitrary Rating: 4/10

Ashes and Diamonds (Popiol i diament)

Life is dangerous.

Last up in my Poland-a-thon is an earlier film by Andrzej Wajda, and arguably one of his best known. I guess it stands to reason that early Polish film, of the era that would put Polish film on the map, would be all about WWII, and the various stories contained in that era of war and post-war culture. Ashes and Diamonds is a good example of that; taking place on and directly after the day of Germany’s official surrender, it follows a pair of young men who are hired essentially as mercenaries, sent to eliminate a Communist target. The film opens with their first attempt, which doesn’t go as planned, and from there follows them as they take up residence in the local hotel that their target is staying at, trying to find the best way to make another attempt on his life, while one of them ends up falling for the hotel’s barmaid Krystyna. There’s a lot going on in this film, and with only one run-through of it, I don’t think I got it all, since the film isn’t very concrete on its plot points, instead flowing over them like a ceaseless river current. Still, I generally liked what this had to offer; I just wasn’t too sure if it had as much to offer as I thought it did.

This film comes off as a foreign language Hollywood film; lots of closed sets, with character interactions followed by other character interactions, with only a few points of plot development interspersed between them. Even the cinematography was very basic in both look and movement, akin to a low-to-medium budget studio drama from here in the States. The one thing I did like about it a lot was the lead actor. Zbigniew Cybulski, the main star of this one, was pretty well known in Poland; he was often called the “Polish James Dean”, and watching this film, one of his star-making roles, it’s easy to see why – his flair and style in both the look of his character and his presentation and delivery really carries the film, and the frame is that much more void of presence whenever he is not there. That being said, the plot of this one wasn’t very focused; the film seemed content to be wishy-washy in its forward movement, and as much as the romantic subplot added to the film, it did feel a little shoehorned in there for the sake of added plot material, rather than being genuinely important (even if it does end up playing a slight factor in the film’s concluding arc).

I guess I was expecting a bit more than what I ended up getting, having seen Wajda’s later works Man of Marble and Man of Iron, and conversely expecting something along the same lines from this film, made two decades before those. Rather, this is exactly what I should have expected; a much more simpler effort from Wajda, and one that belies his relative inexperience up to this point. Is it worth watching? Honestly, I’m not really sure; it was decent enough, but not on a “wow, that was really something” level. The Book seems to be a little more enamored of this film than I was, calling it a masterpiece and the finest film from its era, and it may very well be right, seeing as I haven’t seen too many other examples to compare it to. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little underwhelmed, like I hadn’t gotten everything I had wanted to get out of it, which was pretty much the case. That’s no fault of the film’s, though, so don’t take what I say as being reflective of the qualities of the film itself. I’d say, give this a try; you’ll really be no worse off for doing so, and who knows? You might find a new favorite from a style of film you otherwise wouldn’t have experienced.

Arbitrary Rating: 7/10

The Saragossa Manuscript (Rekopis znaleziony w Saragossie)

One story creates another, and then another…

Ah, the Book. You are so ignorantly deceptive at times. I started The Saragossa Manuscript with the foreknowledge of it being only a couple hours, not the three-plus-hour opus I ended up watching. Seriously, I’m sure the editors of the Book know of our little blog club here; I could bet that they could happily hire some of us to proofread the book’s entries a little better than they currently are. Well, with that said, the second in my Poland-a-thon started off casually enough, with the framing device of a pair of enemy soldiers finding a manuscript in a house that tells the tale of one of the soldier’s ancestors, which is the film proper. But from there, The Saragossa Manuscript couldn’t help itself but weave a tapestry so tangled, especially in the second half, that even the Wikipedia article freaking gives up in its attempt to make a complete plot summary of the film halfway through.

It’s always interesting to note the differing techniques and visual styles of directors and cinematographers, even in the sophomore years of cinema, that make films look so much different from each other. That was the first thing I noticed about Saragossa; how different it looked, mostly thanks to the imperfect and unclear cinematography and top-notch art direction. What I especially liked about Saragossa was that there wasn’t a layer of fourth-wall suspension that seemed to be spread across the screen between me and the story; the screen was more like a window into an alternate world that was actually happening, rather than some fantasy that was merely being shown to me. Now, of course, I’m not saying that this is ultra-realistic, or that the fourth wall was somehow nonexistent, but the way the film was presented to me, it might as well have been, and it was a style of presentation that I hadn’t been used to, especially in older films. I also found the production value in this one to be second to none, from the costuming to the locations – everything was detailed to the nth degree, which is usually a good sign for me, and allows me to have some semblance of entertainment where there otherwise wouldn’t be any. Now, all this being said, I’ve said before how the number one focus of any entertainment film should always be, first and foremost, a good story that is well told. This story, to be frank, wasn’t very good, and indeed the film too too much time reveling in how to tell its meandering story than actually making sure it was a good one. There’s a cut in the middle of the film, dividing it into two parts. The first part, even with its occasional layering of a story-within-a-story, I was able to follow well enough, if only because I’d been forewarned of it by the recent review by fellow 1001 Blogger Steve. But then the second part started, and when it began its intricate layering of “a story within a story, that references another story, that ties into the first story by means of a character in a fourth story that is told by another character from a fifth story, etc etc”, I just wanted to throw my hands up in exasperation and call it quits. Not because I don’t like figuring out films like this, ones that reward repeat viewing as such, but because I didn’t care one iota about anything that was happening on screen enough to even bother with untangling the ball of Christmas lights that this film calls its second act.

I’d be a little worried if I were a publisher, and the manuscript for this book, which the film is adapted from, were plopped on my desk. There seems to be no real plot here; it’s mostly storytelling for the sake of storytelling, which can still be entertaining in its own right, but not from a narrative standpoint. What irked me about it was that it was so aimless in its storytelling; it delighted more in the various forms and literary devices used to tell the story, rather than actually telling a story worth listening to, which in all honestly, this wasn’t. There was no reason to care about anything that was happening, since it just seemed like the insane ramblings of some random writer of a century long passed. Then, of course, the second half of the film came along, and any direction I had going into the film was quickly lost. I would have a pretty hard time coming up with a legitimate reason for someone to sit down and watch this one, even one of the truncated edits that existed before the three hour version was restored over a decade ago. So, I guess I shouldn’t. This was an interesting little experiment of a film, but ultimately, it wasn’t worth what one would need to put into it, both in length and in cognitive effort. I can see how this made the list, quite easily, but it was just too much bother for too little gain for me.

Arbitrary Rating: 6/10

Man of Iron (Czlowiek z zelaza)

We are going to win. If not now, then next time.

After watching Man of Marble, and being graciously surprised by it, I took a look through the Book for other films that made it from my ancestral country of Poland. There were several, but for purposes of limitation, I focused on films that were strictly from Poland (rather than a joint country effort), and in Polish, for what will be my Poland-a-thon. Naturally, I couldn’t resist starting it off with the sequel to Man of Marble, which also made the list: Man of Iron. Just four short years after Man of Marble, Andrzej Wajda saw opportunity in the Solidarity labor movement of 1980, and decided to make a follow-up to his previous film, exploring similar ground, but in a new historical and contextual setting. Whatever he did, when he did it, it must’ve worked; Man of Iron ended up winning the Palme d’Or at Cannes that year, and while I nowadays don’t necessarily take that as a sign that the film is a surefire winner, with Man of Iron I feel I can relatively take that liberty.

Man of Marble dealt with a film student’s efforts to track down the life history of a legendary working man named Mateusz Birkut (played by Jerzy Radziwilowicz), and to discover why the system he worked so hard for turned on him. This time around, we follow a reporter who is brought on to an effort to discredit and destroy Birkut’s son, Maciej Tomczyk (also played by Radziwilowicz), who has started a strike in his shipyard, and thus seems to be following in his father’s footsteps. The film is structured almost exactly like Man of Marble; we follow the reporter around as he talks to various people, watches snippets of film, and gathers information on his subject; even with the differing reasons for why the protagonist is gathering said information, the film still goes about doing it in the same way. This meant that this film comes off pretty much identically to Man of Marble, and since I liked that film a great deal, this was a more than welcome second helping of everything that I found likable about the first. From the shot composition and cinematography, to the script and structure of the story, it was all a replica of Man of Marble, but without rehashing the same material that the first one covered. This is truly what a sequel should be; more of what worked, without being exactly the same.

I said in my Man of Marble review that I was amazed at how Wajda was able to make a film so critical of its own establishment not after, but during the period it criticizes. I wasn’t entirely correct; Marble criticizes the history of said establishment, and takes that criticism and stares it into the eyes of the present, admonishing them for what has transpired. Iron, however, is the real deal; this film was made in the narrowest of windows between the formation of the Solidarity movement, and its eventual suppression at the end of 1981, just enough time for a film like this to be made a released. And holy crap, does Wajda ever get away with something on this big a scale; I may have overused the word ‘scathing’ to describe similar settings and stories in the past, but never has that word been more appropriate than with Man of Iron, and the fact that Wajda does it all right smack dab in the middle of the Communist suppression movement that effectively erases anyone involved with making exactly such a product as this is unbelievable, and largely why I suspect it won the Palme d’Or. Not only is this an important film, but it still manages to be an entertaining one as well, and it does so pretty much along the same lines as its predecessor. It also does so in such a way that you don’t really need to have seen Man of Marble to get this one, though doing so will of course enhance your understanding of this film and its many mentions of the previous one. Wajda has a much older film on this list, which I will get to after my next one, but I can only hope he is as good in his earlier years as he is in these. This is the type of film that makes me proud of what filmmakers can accomplish, and it certainly deserves more than just a look on your part.

Arbitrary Rating: 8/10

Pandora and the Flying Dutchman

The measure of love is what one is willing to give up for it.

What’s this? Another film from the list that utilized the talents of cinematographer Jack Cardiff? Goody goody goody! Pandora and the Flying Dutchman is yet another romance tale that made the list, as well as yet another film that stars James Mason, though I won’t argue against more of that. Still, though, I’ve found romance films tend to be a dime a dozen, and largely, Pandora and the Flying Dutchman is one of those dimes. What does elevate this above the rest is a magnetic performance by Mason, and of course, the lovingly and exuberantly colorful cinematography by Cardiff.

Mason stars as Hendrick van der Zee, the titular Dutchman from the very same legend. Once every seven years, he is allowed to go on land for six months to find the woman to whom is willing to die for her love for him. He is certain he has finally found her in Pandora, played by Ava Gardner, a seemingly cold woman who is apparently unable to fall in love with anyone. You see where this is headed; Pandora and Hendrick are naturally destined to be together, she finds she is able to fall in love with a man after all, blah de blah. This isn’t anything you haven’t seen before, but again, it’s thanks to Mason (and his chemistry with Gardner), and the oftentimes gorgeous Technicolor by Cardiff that makes this worth watching.

As you can see, this was another one that I was really left with very little to say about. Romantic films aren’t normally my thing, and it seems this was no exception, even with the talents of Cardiff and Mason on prime display. It got me through the film all right, but it didn’t engage me any further than I otherwise would have been. To that end, I can question why this is on the must see list, but again, seeing as it’s the type of film that most of the time isn’t for me, I probably can’t question it too much. Unless you really don’t like romances, you might be okay seeing this one; just don’t be too disappointed if you end up pretty much where you started.

Arbitrary Rating: 7/10

The Big Carnival (Ace in the Hole)

Good news is no news.

One of my little-known cult favorites is a film from the late 90s called Mad City. In it Dustin Hoffman plays a news reporter who, when he pretty much falls into a hostage situation, quickly begins manipulating the players involved in the story to extend it, and his coverage of it, as long as possible, milking it for all it’s worth. I found it a scathing and disgruntlingly appropriate expose on news and journalism, and how ratings (i.e. money) are always put above everything else, from journalistic integrity to the actual facts of the story to the well being of the people being reported on. I didn’t know it at the time I first saw it, but it was actually inspired by an older film called Ace in the Hole (sometimes seen under the renamed title The Big Carnival). Directed by Billy Wilder, who was coming off the success of Sunset Blvd, this film almost did his career in; it was his first major critical and commercial flop, and only in the last decade or so have critics come to appreciate what Wilder called, up to that point, “the best film I’ve ever made”.

Kirk Douglas stars as Chuck Tatum, a sleazy, disreputable newspaper reporter who’s been fired from every paper between New York City and New Mexico, where he’s managed to hoodwink himself a job at a low-level paper in Albuquerque. Sent on assignment, he finds out about a local man, Leo Minosa, who is trapped in a cave-in. Sensing opportunity, he quickly establishes himself as the man on the inside with Minosa, with exclusive rights to the story, and, with the help of an even less honorable sheriff, convinces the extraction team to take a less risky but much more prolonged rescue method, in order to get every ounce out of the burgeoning media sensation as he possibly can. The technicals here are just about average; not too bad, but nothing overly noteworthy. I’ve found this to be a recurring theme with Billy Wilder’s films; the technicals are well done, but not anything showy. The real draw in a Wilder film is the story and the script, which are rock solid as usual. It’s what the film has to say about the media that is the primary draw here, and is most likely largely responsible for the film’s less-than-lukewarm reception upon initial release; it’s like making a bunch of black jokes in an NAACP meeting.

Parallels with Mad City aside, this was quite an enjoyable flick. I don’t know if I’d go so far as to call it a must see, but I wasn’t disappointed. If anything, I was left with too little to say about this one. It’s pretty scathing, but nevertheless entertaining, and certainly a film that was worth the effort to make it, as well as from us to watch it. It might’ve just been the combination of filmmakers and stars that got this on the list to begin with, but I’m pretty pleased to have seen it regardless, and hopefully you will be too.

Arbitrary Rating: 8/10

The Cool World

Stay cool!

The Cool World is a film not unlike Killer of Sheep, which it predates. It deals with life in a black neighborhood, and what it was like to live in such a place; The Cool World being focused on Harlem in NYC, while Killer of Sheep was set in L.A. The two films are very similar in many ways, which I’ll get to in a sec, which of course begs the question; why are both films on the list? Well, to be honest, I can’t come up with a good answer to that, even hypothetically. The two are really two sides of the exact same coin, and to have them both take up a slot on the list seems redundant in a major sense of the word.

As far as I could discern as to the plot of the film, it follows a young man named Duke Custis, who’s a member of a gang in the Harlem streets called the Royal Pythons. The film details his attempts to gain legitimacy on the streets and cement his reputation with the gang, while also providing a portrait of life amid the black culture of Harlem. It’s to that end that the film is much like Killer of Sheep, including in cinematography and mood. The film looks very washed out, and almost never in focus; if I were to guess, it was shot either on Super 8 or a very low quality 16mm film, and the equipment used to shoot the film most likely wasn’t of good quality. While the people directly behind the camera may not have been professionals, or even knew what they were doing half the time, the storytellers themselves at least had a pretty decent vision of what they wanted, even if that vision wasn’t really cohesive or finished. The film meanders a lot between vignettes of life in Harlem, framed with the character of Duke Custis, who is usually around to see or experience the various segments of the story, and while this means the film doesn’t have much of a narrative, I can forgive it that, since a narrative isn’t the intention behind this film; it is meant to convey what life is like in this colored neighborhood, and to that end it succeeded.

I couldn’t get into this film as much as I would’ve liked for many reasons. The poor quality for one, the lack of narrative for another, but mostly, as the film went on, I was just bugged by how similar it was to Killer of Sheep, and I got too wrapped up in why both films were on the list. I appreciated what The Cool World was trying to achieve (and, in my opinion, it largely succeeds), but the issues I had with it just didn’t clear up at all by the end of the film, and try as I might to ignore them, I could not; they were like brambles entangled in my pant legs. Unless you’re a list completionist, I’d advise you to pick either this or Killer of Sheep, but there’s very little other reason to watch both of them. I didn’t really know what I was going to get when I started this, but ultimately, I just ended up with an experience I had already had, which is an experience I am going through the list to pretty much avoid.

Arbitrary Rating: 6/10

Grave of the Fireflies (Hotaru no haka)

Why do fireflies have to die so soon?

I heart Studio Ghibli. Like, a lot. Now, normally, that’s because of Hayao Miyazaki, who is arguably their best asset; because of him, even seeing Studio Ghibli’s animation style in any film, Miyazaki or not, gets my heart all warmed up. So, naturally, I was pretty excited to get into Grave of the Fireflies, one of Ghibli’s non-Miyazaki works. I don’t really know what I was prepared for going into this one, but after it was over, one thing was for sure: I definitely wasn’t prepared enough. Umberto D, Europa ’51, Bicycle Thieves… you can have them if you want them, but for me, the goddamn saddest, most depressing film I have ever seen has now got to be Grave of the Fireflies. And I couldn’t have appreciated it more.

People looking at this one should know right off the bat; there’s very little to this one that can be called plot. Things do happen, but there’s no real line of narrative; it’s mostly just about how young Seita and younger sister Setsuko try to survive in a war-ravaged rural Japan after their mother dies. That’s about as much plot summary as you’ll be getting from me, both because there isn’t a whole lot more to it than that, and also because I don’t want to spoil this experience. As for the animation, it was stellar, but I was expecting that, even from the early years of Studio Ghibli. I can’t attest to the Japanese voice performances, as I saw the English dubbed version, but the voices in English were very subtle, and very fitting for the mood and the topic of the film.

This is one that words can really do no justice; you just have to see it for yourself. This is one of the most gut-wrenching, eye-watering, heart-stoppingly sad films I have ever personally witnessed, and though it got very close to unbearable as it was happening, after it was over I couldn’t help but have a feeling of catharsis. This was great, plain and simple, mostly for the very reasons that would seem to be turn-offs for the average moviegoer. Now, I, of course, will first and foremost recommend Spirited Away as probably the best ‘gateway’ film for someone to get into Japanese animated features, but this is definitely on the list, somewhere. Even though it was Studio Ghibli, I was uncertain as to why they needed another slot on the list, but I was thoroughly convinced by the end of this one. See this if you get the chance. You might be bawling your eyes out by the end of it, but it couldn’t be more rewarding, mostly for that very same reason.

Arbitrary Rating: 9/10

The Battle of San Pietro

We knew it, and the enemy knew it. We had to take it.

I can’t count the number of John Huston films on the List. Well, yes I can, thanks to the Director’s Index in the back; there are apparently nine. Still, I was curious as to what possessed the editors to add The Battle of San Pietro, an otherwise conventional war doc at first glance. This isn’t a feature, or even a fiction film; it’s a short documentary, just over a half hour long, that details… well, the Battle of San Pietro, a major struggle fought in the eponymous Italian town, and a large stepping stone toward the Allies’ attempt to take back the city of Rome. Like I said, it seemed unassuming at first, but by the time that short half hour was finished, I was surprised how much I had gotten out of it.

What makes this especially notable was how it was shot. This isn’t a re-enactment or Hollywoodized production of the battle; Huston and his crew were really at the battle itself, filming their footage right alongside the soldiers as they fought (and for some, died) the intense week-long skirmish. What this gives us is some rather harrowing footage of wartime as it is happening, not seen in hindsight like almost every other war documentary out there. Even though this isn’t a fiction film, Huston still decides to tell a story, with narrative and flow, as well as style and panache in the delivery. The jingoistic narration, done by Huston himself, is admittedly very propagandized, but the narration is largely the reason the film is so focused, and comes off so easily accessible; quite the opposite of In the Year of the Pig.

I was surprised at how much I liked this. It’s concise, at a mere half hour; it’s accessible and easily watchable, unlike most documentaries that come my way; and while I wouldn’t call it entertaining, it was fascinating in a highly historical relevance. I don’t think everyone will get as much out of it as I did, but I really feel I’d be doing a disservice if I were to give this any lower of a rating. It’d be dishonest to myself, which is something I try my hardest never to do. To that end, I’ll only say; while your experience with this film may (and likely will) vary from mine, that doesn’t mean it is any less deserving of your attention. I don’t know too many war documentaries, and have seen even less, so I can’t attest to this one making the list above potential others, but I wasn’t too disappointed with the excursion, so that’s a win in my book.

Arbitrary Rating: 7/10

Five Deadly Venoms (Wu du)

Once an evil deed is done, then it never ends… it goes on and on forever.

I wasn’t sure what mood I was going to be in, whether or not I’d be likely to appreciate a film like Wu Du (known in English as the Five Deadly Venoms). Nevertheless, I started the film, and by the halfway point I knew I was going to end up liking it. Wu Du is a Hong Kong martial arts film that stars the eponymous Venoms as, well… as the Five Venoms. This was largely the film that gave them their fame (and probably their moniker), and I can see why; it’s not just a great martial arts exhibition, it’s a pretty darn good flick as a whole. Of course, the question pops up once again; is this really a “must see” experience? Well, I could be persuaded to make a case either for or against its inclusion, but I’d rather not; this was just a solidly entertaining film for me, and it hit me so well, I’d rather leave it at that.

The young pupil of a dying martial arts master is dispatched to make sure the master’s former students aren’t misusing their talents, as well as to make sure the fortune of the master’s older friend doesn’t fall into the hands of one of the more disreputable pupils. The students themselves are the titular Five Venoms, called as such because each has their own distinct martial arts style, named after animals; the Centipede, the Snake, the Scorpion, the Lizard (or Gecko), and the Toad. Of course, being a martial arts film, the primary showcase is the fights, which are pretty well choreographed – by the Venoms themselves, no less. What surprised me, though, was that the film was so entertaining even in between these fight sequences. Since the young pupil doesn’t know who the Venoms are, and must track them down with virtually no information, and the Venoms themselves don’t know who each other are, there’s a fantastic dynamic of intrigue and deception that plays through most of the film, both for us and for the characters. We try and look for each of the Venoms before they are revealed (and one, the Scorpion, is saved for last as a sort-of twist, albeit one I figured out rather easily), and they realize their counterparts are all in the same town, and thus step up their game either to solve the central mystery or to perpetuate it for their own ends. Now, this isn’t perfect by any means; there is gratuitous use of sound effects in the fight scenes, to where each strike and blow sounds virtually identical, and overdubbing was a bit of an issue (though not as bad as some other films I could care to name), but I was so wrapped up in the film that even these slight issues washed over me like a slight rain.

I don’t really know how to recommend this one. There’s some people that will be turned off by anything with subtitles, some people that won’t be able to take any “martial arts movie” seriously, and some people that won’t be able to get over the slight dated qualities of the film’s main selling points. To these people, I can merely say, Wu Du is definitely one of the exceptions to be had. If people like the ones I’ve described above are to watch any of the type of film that Wu Du falls squarely into, at least they’re watching one of the best, cause lord knows there are an awful lot of fizzles and duds out there that bring the whole genre down. I’m glad to have seen this, and even more glad that I seemed to be in the right mood for it. Hopefully, this one catches you at the right time as well.

Arbitrary Rating: 8/10