Category Archives: Art

#49 Favorite Film, 1957 Films, Art, Bengt Ekerot, Bibi Andersson, Drama, Favorite Film of the Year, Gunnar Björnstrand, Gunnel Lindblom, Ingmar Bergman, International, International Drama, Max von Sydow, Swedish, Top 100 Films, Top 250 Films, Top 50 Films

The Seventh Seal-1957

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The Seventh Seal-1957

Director Ingmar Bergman

Starring Max von Sydow, Gunnar Bjornstrand

Top 250 Films #49

Scott’s Review #497

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Reviewed October 23, 2016

Grade: A

The Seventh Seal (1957) is an Ingmar Bergman Swedish masterpiece that, after three mere viewings, I am just beginning to appreciate and fall in love with.

It is not that I did not “get” the dark, artsy theme to begin with- I did, but The Seventh Seal is a savory dish meant for repeated offerings, and with each, I have loved it even more.

The subject matter of the plague and the Black Death is heavy.

It is a quiet yet powerful, dark art film about death.

The film is shot in black and white, which does nothing but enhance the cold, stark concepts of the film. The color would have certainly made the film cheery or bright- if that can be said, given the subject matter.

Instead, the filming is cold yet illuminating, and the whites seem very white, while the blacks seem very dark, which symbolizes the film’s concepts.

In the story, a disillusioned medieval knight, Antonius Block (Max von Sydow), returns home from war, disenchanted with life. He fought in the Crusades and returned home to Sweden to find it plagued by the Black Death.

He begins to play a game of chess alone- and is visited by Death- a hideous pale creature shrouded in black. Antonius challenges Death to chess- his fate is left so long as the game continues.

Throughout the film, Antonius is the only character who can see Death- the other characters cannot, making the film open to interpretations.

The other characters in the story are a troupe of actors that Antonius meets along the way to his castle, and a young, fresh-faced girl who has been branded a witch and is fated to be burned at the stake is featured.

Since she is close to death, Antonius takes a particular fascination with her.

Throughout the film, as well as the trials and tribulations of the characters, Death continuously lurks around, watching these characters, which is a fascinating part of the film. They cannot see him, so we can only assume their time in this world is limited.

What makes The Seventh Seal so powerful is its honesty—harsh as it is. The knowledge that death is coming for these people is fascinating. Many characters discuss God in length and pray, as religion is an enormous aspect of the film.

It almost contains a good vs. evil, God vs. devil component, and again, important to stress, highly open to interpretation. Great art films are.

Numerous scenes reverberate and are significant iconic moments in film history decades later. The scene of Antonius and Death playing chess on the beach is chilling and ghost-like. Death- his pale face and a black cloak would frighten anyone. This scene has been referenced numerous times over the years.

My favorite is the inevitable final shot of peasants being led to their fate by Death. They are pulled begrudgingly by a rope reminiscent of the Pied Piper titled “Dance of Death.”

The individuals are dressed in black and are atop a hill surrounded by the sky, making the morbid scene highly effective.

The Last Supper scene is powerful, and the group enjoys the final meal, unsure of what fate has in store for them the next day.

I anticipate more viewings of this brilliant piece of filmmaking.

#54 Favorite Film, 1969 Films, Alan Bates, Alan Webb, Art, Catherine Willmer, Drama, Eleanor Bron, Glenda Jackson, Jennie Linden, Ken Russell, Oliver Reed, Romantic Drama, Top 100 Films, Top 250 Films

Women in Love-1969

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Women in Love-1969

UPDATED REVIEW

Director Ken Russell

Starring Glenda Jackson, Oliver Reed, Alan Bates

Top 250 Films #54

Scott’s Review #766

Reviewed June 2, 2018

Grade: A

Women in Love (1969) is a British romantic drama film that stands out as truly one of a kind. The film is quite cerebral and requires a bit of thought, which will undoubtedly lead to good conversation with film connoisseurs everywhere after a viewing.

The four central characters are complex and flawed, and they dramatically intersect in each other’s lives, making the film a “thinking man’s” feast.

The film is adapted from a popular D.H. Lawrence novel of the same name.

In 1920, set in the Midlands section of central England, sisters Ursula (Jennie Linden) and Gudrun (Glenda Jackson) attend the wedding of an acquaintance, Laura Crich. The Crich family is enormously wealthy and owns a large share of the mining town.

During the ceremony, Gudrun and Ursula fantasize about Gerald Crich (Oliver Platt) and Rupert Birkin (Alan Bates), respectively. When the foursome cross paths again at Rupert’s pretentious girlfriend’s party, attraction and conflict arise.

The film is described as “character-driven,” but it does not begin to do it justice. Each of the four principal characters is richly written with intelligence and gusto. All of them are either flawed or insecure in some way, while the fact that Gerald and Rupert share a sexual attraction for each other is another nuance explored throughout the film.

Rupert is confident and outspoken about his bisexuality- extremely rare for a 1969 film. In this way, Women in Love is ahead of its time.

The significant themes in Women in Love are commitment and love, and how each character handles them, sometimes embracing them and sometimes running away from them.

Gudrun and Gerald are in love with each other, as are Rupert and Ursula, but only one couple reaches any bliss. The characters possess a bevy of emotions, making their happiness almost impossible, and they feel doomed to failure from the onset.

This is an example of Larry Kramer’s tremendous writing and of bringing the characters to the big screen in a memorable way.

Jackson’s Gudrun and Bates’s Rupert are my favorite characters because they seem to have a bit more depth and feel like standouts. Gudrun appears to have love-hate feelings toward Gerald and is often downright cruel to him.

As they vacation in the Swiss Alps, Gudrun purposely and inexplicably flirts with a gay artist, leaving Gerald extremely jealous, which results in tragedy.

Counter-balancing Gudrun’s anger, Rupert showers in fun and zest for life, happily bisexual and thinking nothing of it, enjoying his sexually charged affections for both men and women.

The supporting characters, specifically snobbish Hermione and mentally unstable Christianna Crich, are examples of perfect casting. Eleanor Bron plays Hermione as mocking and teetering on the edge of unhinged. As she psychologically bullies poor Ursula, even though it’s clear Rupert prefers the more innocent woman, Hermione becomes frightened.

Actress Catherine Willmer takes Christianna to a new level of creepy. Already appearing psychotic, when her daughter tragically drowns, the woman goes over the edge, unleashing vicious dogs on any visitors to her estate.

Both actresses give unforgettable performances.

Women in Love contains a scene that may very well be the most homo-erotic scene in film history. As Rupert and Gerald decide to partake in a Japanese-style wrestling match one evening, they strip completely naked and grapple in front of a roaring fire.

In this lengthy sequence, both front and rear nudity are provided, leaving nothing to the imagination. When Rupert suggests they swear eternal love for each other, Gerald cannot commit to the emotional union.

One wonders if this outstanding scene influenced 2007’s Eastern Promises.

1969’s Women in Love is a fantastic film with terrific acting all around. Taking romantic drama to an entirely different level and setting a new standard for cinematic complexity, the work of director Ken Russell is peppered with nuance, making it rich with great storytelling and character development.

The fact that one couple ends in bliss and the other in tragedy is sheer excellence.

Oscar Nominations: 1 win-Best Director-Ken Russell, Best Actress-Glenda Jackson (won), Best Screenplay Based on Material from Another Medium, Best Cinematography

#1 Most Disturbing Film, #56 Favorite Film, 1975 Films, Art, International, Italian, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Top 10 Most Disturbing Films, Top 100 Films, Top 250 Films

Salo-1975

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Salo-1975

Director Pier Paolo Pasolini

Starring Paolo Bonacelli

Top 250 Films #56

Top 10 Most Disturbing Films #1    

Scott’s Review #183 

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Reviewed October 9, 2014

Grade: A

 Salo is a disconcerting, highly controversial Italian art film from 1975 that is not for the squeamish nor the prudish. Many people will revile this film for its distastefulness and despise it entirely —that is, if they even give it a chance, which, unfortunately, many people will refuse to do.

But beyond the filth, perversion, and hatefulness that are themes of Salo lies a film that is a work of art and must be experienced by the most open-minded of cinema lovers.

The film is a dreamlike experience that centers on four wealthy Fascist Italian men of great importance and power, circa 1944, who decide to kidnap eighteen teenage boys and girls- the youngsters must be the cream of the crop and flawless in appearance, only the most attractive will do- one girl missing a tooth is immediately cast aside as a reject.

Whether the girl flaunted her marred appearance is open to interpretation.

The youths are then taken to an enormous palace where they are stripped of all clothing and forced to endure four months of torture, sexual perversions, and humiliations at the whim of and for the entertainment of their captors.

Finally, at the end of their terms, most are tortured to death by way of scalping, removal of tongues, or having their sexual organs burned off.

Also living in the palace are four aging prostitutes who enthrall the men, along with the reluctant prisoners, with tales of kinky and perverted sexual encounters from their younger days mostly involving anal sex.

The film is divided into four sections based on Dante’s Divine comedy: the Anteinferno, the Circle of Manias, the Circle of Shit, and the Circle of Blood.

In one sadistically disturbing scene, one of the young girls is forced to eat human excrement by one of her wealthy captors.

In another, during the Circle of Shit, everyone dines on a meal consisting of human excrement where lewd sex occurs.

One of the female prisoners is tricked into eating food laced with nails- a contest to determine who has the best buttocks results in the winner being brutally murdered.

Everyone in the film is bisexual and there are repeated scenes of extreme, almost pornographic, violent sex scenes.

On a side note, most of the youngsters (non-actors) reported having a ball while filming Salo and knew not what the film was really about, so the feeling on the set was light-hearted, nothing like the finished product.

While deeply disturbing, Salo is a film that some, or many, will simply not get or look beyond the obvious for a deeper message. It is a masterpiece in its ugliness, rawness, and political statements and is quite artistic once one gets past the brutality and rawness of the film.

Salo contains much political symbolism- the excrement serves as the filth of Nazi Germany and authoritarian figures throughout Europe such as Hitler and Mussolini, the abuse of power that was rampant during the time of the film (World War II era), and the entire film is about the abuse that powerful people (the wealthy fascists equate to powerful Germans) inflicted on the weak (the innocent boys and girls mirror the Jews and the weak).

Is Salo a disturbing, grotesque film? It is. Is it mindless torture for the sake of torture like movies as extreme as Saw and Hostel? It is not. It is an art film, not a horror film.

Banned in many countries for decades due to the extreme content of rape, murder, and torture of individuals thought to be under the age of eighteen, it remains widely banned to this day in several countries.

Many filmmakers, actors, and historians struggle to maintain the artistic merit of the film.

To fully get Salo, one must delve into the mind of the filmmakers and recognize that it is a statement film, filled with symbolism that challenges and questions the politics of its time.

Director, Pier Paolo Pasolini, was brutally murdered by a male prostitute shortly before the film’s release.

Salo (1975) is one of the most disturbing films I have ever viewed.

#72 Favorite Film, 1960 Films, Art, Best International Film Oscar Winners, Bibi Andersson, Birgitta Pettersson, Birgitta Valberg, Drama, Gunnel Lindblom, Ingmar Bergman, International, International Drama, Max von Sydow, Swedish, Top 100 Films, Top 250 Films

The Virgin Spring-1960

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The Virgin Spring-1960

Director Ingmar Bergman

Starring Max von Sydow, Birgitta Valberg

Top 250 Films #72

Scott’s Review #243

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Reviewed May 15, 2015

Grade: A

The Virgin Spring is a quiet masterpiece by director Ingmar Bergman.

A Swedish film, it won the Best Foreign Language Oscar in 1960, which is surprising for such a dark film.

I have heard about this film for years, but it has eluded me until now. I am finally glad I viewed it. It is breathtaking and mesmerizing.

A unique film for many reasons, it inspired “revenge” films to follow, specifically The Last House on the Left and I Spit on Your Grave, which is a horror film, while The Virgin Spring is an interestingly artful film.

The film also explores morals, the main character’s religious beliefs, and the theme of guilt.

The film is shot in black and white, and the first thing that struck me about it was its gorgeous cinematography and lighting. The brilliant, deep contrast of black and white, with the illumination of a character’s face against a deathly black background, is bold and reminiscent of Citizen Kane (1941).

It gives the film warmth and glow that contrasts perfectly with the bleak subject matter.

The story of The Virgin Spring is a tragedy, yet the filming is so magnificent that it was not until the film concluded and I pondered the actual story that I realized just how horrific it truly is. And that is what Bergman was going for-provoking a thought.

This is not a film to watch while munching on a tub of popcorn. It is a film designed to prompt thought.

An affluent Swedish couple owns a farm and lives a peaceful, quiet existence. They are stellar members of their community and church. Although they are humble, they can afford to have servants.

They have a beautiful and pampered young daughter named Karin, who is sent to deliver candles to their church one sunny day. Karin is a trusting, virginal, and proper girl. She meets a trio of males- two adults and a young boy.

At first, gleefully sharing food with them and enjoying her newfound friends, they soon turn on her, and she is viciously raped, robbed, beaten, and murdered.

The look of surprise, pain, and horror on Karin’s face is monumental. As this occurs, a pregnant and spiteful servant, Ingeri, watches in horror from a hiding place. A rival of Karin’s, Ingeri, wanted misfortune to be thrust upon Karin, but as she sees in horror, her expressions portray regret.

As the family hopes and prays that they can find the missing Karin, the men and boy show up at the farmhouse in need of food and shelter.

Unbeknownst to the family, they are Karin’s rapists and killers, and once the truth is known, the once-sweet parents are out for brutal revenge. The young boy of the trio is guilt-ridden and physically sick from the circumstances.

Is the family’s revenge justified, or should they (as good Christians) forgive? This is the moral point of the story.

The conclusion is powerful as the father begs God for forgiveness. He questions his actions. But is he a changed man?

Bergman uniquely and intelligently shoots these scenes with only the father’s back in view as he throws his hands to leave. In these moments, we, the viewers, become one with the father, which makes for powerful storytelling.

Influential to many subsequent films, The Virgin Spring (1960) is a powerful tale reminiscent of a fairy tale that prompts viewers to reflect on its ending.

Subdued yet horrifying, it is meant to be viewed and analyzed.

Oscar Nominations: 1 win-Best Foreign Language Film (won), Best Costume Design, Black-and-White

#93 Favorite Film, 1965 Films, Art, Camp, Haji, John Furlong, Lori Williams, Russ Meyer, Sexploitation, Stuart Lancaster, Susan Bernard, Top 100 Films, Top 250 Films, Tura Satana

Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!-1965

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Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!- 1965

Director Russ Meyer

Starring Tura Satana, Haji

Top 250 Films #93

Scott’s Review #406

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Reviewed May 28, 2016

Grade: A

Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! is a 1965 masterpiece that has eluded me for many years, primarily because it is not available on Netflix.

Finally, I decided to buy the newly released Blu-Ray edition and immediately became a massive fan of this Russ Meyer work of art.

Influential and intriguing, it is no surprise that it is a camp classic.

Several famous directors, like Quentin Tarantino, have paid homage to this film in their later works, notably Death Proof (2007). Fast cars, sexy women, and murder are the hallmarks of this unique film.

Compared to other famous Meyer works, specifically the gregarious yet brilliant Supervixens (1975), Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! is almost understated and quiet.

He also directed the well-known Beyond the Valley of the Dolls from 1970.

Shot in black and white, several notable comparisons to Supervixens are: a hot California desert, large-breasted women, and gas stations are prevalent throughout.

Unlike Supervixens, though, there is little or no nudity.

Three go-go dancers race through the desert in their sports cars. They have murder and kidnapping on their minds. The ring leader, Varla (Tura Satana), is a vicious, sexy, Asian woman. Her two sidekicks are Billie (Lori Williams) and Rosie (Haji). While Billie and Rosie fight in a juvenile fashion, Varla is the serious one.

The trio enjoys racing their cars and engaging in the game “chicken.” When they meet the all-American couple, Tommy and Linda, out for a romantic drive, they have a dispute and end up killing Tommy, drugging and kidnapping Linda.

After stopping for gas, Varla hatches a plot to steal money from a crazy older man, his muscular yet dimwitted son (known as the Vegetable), and the older man’s seemingly normal son, Kirk.

Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! is a groundbreaking film because it subverts traditional gender roles. The women are hardly written as sex objects, as most films of that day were far from that. They are ferocious, specifically Varla, and they do typically masculine things. They race cars, fight, and kill, yet they do not sacrifice any of their femininity.

All three women are attractive and busty, and they wear stylish makeup. They are not trying to be like men but tough girls, and these aspects make the film so wonderful to watch.

In Hollywood, these female characters are often portrayed as molls to even rougher men or as supporting characters who aid the men in some way. These female characters are the film.

My favorite character is Varla. Sexy, fierce, and a minority, how often is a female villain this charismatic?  Perhaps she would be a conquest for Bond in the Bond films, not her person.

Varla makes up her own rules. The fact that she is Asian is superb and breaks many barriers to how Asians are portrayed in the film. Varla is more devious than the other characters and is willing to kill anyone who stands in her way, even her friends.

She is a character skillfully written by Russ Meyer and is a quintessential femme fatale.

The male supporting characters are interesting. The older man, actor Stuart Lancaster, would later appear in Supervixens. He is a cripple, wacky, and as diabolical as the women. He has designs on innocent Linda and makes no bones about it. The Vegetable is hunky and fresh-faced- an innocent victim of his father’s evil ways, so he is a character we root for. I enjoyed the brief romance between him and Billie.

Lastly, Kirk is the “normal” son, also a victim of his father. When he and Linda run across the desert while Varla chases them, we root for them to survive.

The black-and-white style, chosen to save money, enhances the unique cinematography with sharp edits, giving the film a mystique.

The 1960s jazzy score also adds to the film. In color, I wonder if the film would have had a more cartoonish quality. The black and white moves Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! Into art film territory.

The debate over the film is, “Is the film exploiting women or empowering them?” The film answers whether women can be challenging, sexy, and complicated with a resounding yes.

All three principal characters are layered, each developing feelings for other characters. At one point, Billie questions Rosie’s sexuality. Still, the female characters are neither monsters nor caricatures. They are complex with real emotions.

Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (1965) is an influential art film/exploitation film that empowers female characters, questions gender categorizations, and takes hold of the viewer, never letting go.

The film is a brilliant representation of the changing times in cinema during the 1960s.

#178 Favorite Film, #8 Most Disturbing Film, 1972 Films, Art, Bernardo Bertolucci, Marlon Brando, Massimo Girotti, Top 10 Most Disturbing Films, Top 250 Films

Last Tango in Paris-1972

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Last Tango in Paris-1972

Director Bernardo Bertolucci

Starring Marlon Brando, Maria Schneider

Top 250 Films #178

Top 10 Most Disturbing Films #8

Scott’s Review #202

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Reviewed December 5, 2014

Grade: A-

Last Tango in Paris is a very dark 1972 erotica art film directed by Bernardo Bertolucci (The Conformist-1970), starring Marlon Brando as a disturbed, angry American man named Paul, whose wife has committed suicide.

He is left to survive on his own in Paris lost and without her where he runs a decrepit apartment complex.

Lonely and bitter, he meets a much younger Parisian woman (Maria Schneider), equally disturbed for different reasons, and they forge a relationship that is sometimes brutal, and degrading, but also contains mutual affection and need.

They are addicted to each other.

This film may very well be my favorite performance by Marlon Brando. He plays a hateful, unpleasant character, yet something is appealing about him and the viewer sympathizes with his grief.

That is to Brando’s credit, of course. A lesser actor would not be as effective.

He is damaged, treats everyone like shit, but there is also a vulnerability to him that is mesmerizing to watch. Brando was such a great, method actor that he simply morphs into the characters he plays. Paul is certainly the most raw and emotional performance of his career.

Actress Maria Schneider is also tremendous in the film. Equally disturbed, her character Jeanne experienced a vastly different upbringing- that of wealth and pampering.

She has a fiancé who loves her dearly, yet she is drawn to the power and abuse of Paul- the fact that he is an older man is sexy to her.

I kept thinking, “What is wrong with this woman?” She seemingly has everything, yet she yearns for excitement. Is Paul a fling for her? Does she care about him or is she using him? Is he using her? Could they be using each other?

The film raises many psychological questions. Jeanne is clearly in emotional turmoil. Both Jeanne and Paul are.

Last Tango in Paris is a difficult film to watch- several scenes are unpleasant, even brutal, but it is a character study of two damaged individuals.

When Paul anally penetrates Jeanne on the floor of his apartment, forcing her to recite gibberish, it is almost too much to bear. Paul wants to know nothing about Jeanne. He does not want to know her name, her past, nothing- complete anonymity. He lives for the present and their sex is animalistic, filled with lust and need.

But these examples are a testament to the power of Last Tango in Paris. It is not boring.

The finale leaves you wondering what will happen to Jeanne. Will she commit suicide? Will she return to her fiancé and life of luxury, her affair with Paul over? Was the affair only a fling for her or does she love Paul?

The film is a dark, tragic, romantic story. It is brutal, raw, and honest and is not to be missed.

Oscar Nominations: Best Director-Bernardo Bertolucci, Best Actor-Marlon Brando

#180 Favorite Film, 1960 Films, Art, Bernadette Lafont, Claude Chabrol, French, International, International Thriller, Lucile Saint-Simon, Stéphane Audran, Thriller, Top 250 Films

Les Bonnes Femmes-1960

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Les Bonnes Femmes-1960

Director Claude Chabrol

Starring Bernadette Lafont

Top 250 Films #180

Scott’s Review #303

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Reviewed December 19, 2015

Grade: A

Les Bonnes Femmes (1960) is a French film by Claude Chabrol, an excellent director whom I was shamefully unfamiliar with, save for the recently viewed Les Biches, made in 1968.

He has been labeled the French equivalent of Alfred Hitchcock, which is an accurate statement.

Les Bonnes Femmes is a brilliant film that came about during the experimental New Wave films of the 1960s and cannot be forgotten upon viewing it.

It has resonated with me, and I cannot stop thinking and analyzing it.

The film centers on four shopgirls living in Paris, all of whom happen to be young and beautiful and mysteriously look similar to one other.  Their names are Jane, Jacqueline, Ginette, and Rita.

They are rather bored with their lives and meander aimlessly through life and the doldrums of their job by looking forward to social occasions, which mainly include men.

The girls party (some more than others), date, go to the zoo, swim, and enjoy typical young lady festivities.

So far, the film might sound like a typical, lighthearted, nice story- think a French Sex and the City. It is, by and large, this way on the surface, but throughout the film, there is a calm sense of dread- like something bad might be lurking in the shadows of coming around the bend.

One day, while the girls are at the zoo, a mysterious individual begins following them, though the viewer has no idea why or who it is.

The film contains more than a sense of dread. Instead, a sense of chilling violence is in the air. A brooding, cold, ugly feeling transpires due to superior direction and overall mood.

Paris, one of the world’s most gorgeous cities, appears bleak, dark, and gloomy throughout the film. The black-and-white cinematography undoubtedly adds to this, as greyness envelopes every shot.

Throughout  Les Bonnes Femmes, there is plenty of foreshadowing as situations arise that give a sense of danger or that something terrible is imminent.

Early in the film, two girls are walking along the street when they are approached by two men in a car wanting to party with them. They accept, and the viewer wonders what a bad decision they may have made. The men wine and dine the women, who are looking for love.

One of the girls is quite a bit more reserved than the other and ends up spending the night with the men. Later, the shop owner tells a story about how she once acquired a serial killer’s bloody handkerchief after he was guillotined and has kept it for years.

Creepy? Yes.

The tigers snarling at the girls when they visit the zoo is laced with symbolism as is a, at first, fun game at the pool, as the men dunk the girl’s heads underwater until things escalate towards danger.

Jacqueline, the sweetest of the girls, meets a motorcycle man and spends time together. They are happy. The irony is that during these later scenes, in which an act of brutality occurs (one character is murdered), the tone is suddenly sunny, warm, and bright. A lovely afternoon in the woods quickly turns evil.

This was a shocking scene, as I was caught off guard. The ending of the film can be discussed in vast detail.

During the murder, it almost seems like the victim is welcoming death. Could this be? Additionally, is one of the shop girls his next intended victim, or is a new girl the killer’s next target?

In the final shot, we see him dancing with a girl, but it is unclear (at least to me) if it is one of the shopgirls.

Chabrol is not a happily-ever-after director. His films are known to be stormy, with dread looming. However,t they are also laced with style, sophistication, and a dark appeal.

I cannot wait to sink my teeth into more of his works.

#185 Favorite Film, 2013 Films, Art, Favorite Film of the Year, Jonathan Glazer, Scarlett Johansson, Science Fiction, Top 250 Films

Under the Skin-2013

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Under the Skin-2013

Director Jonathan Glazer

Starring Scarlett Johansson

Top 250 Films #185

Scott’s Review #219

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Reviewed January 31, 2015

Grade: A

Under the Skin (2013) is a tough film to review- in a word it is mysterious.

The consensus is that people either love the film or hate it- it is one of those types of films. I love it and it appears on many 2013 top ten film lists.

The visual creativity alone astounds me.

To summarize, Scarlett Johansson plays the female alien presumably sent to Earth to meet young men and lure them, using her feminine wiles, into a pool of dark liquid where they are entrapped and subsequently peeled, their skin used for an unknown reason.

The oddity of the story is as appealing as it is confusing, but somehow fascinating beyond belief.

The film is set in Glasgow, Scotland, during present times. The film has a cold, dark tone to it and the city itself seems bleak.

Johansson, in an unnamed role, takes the clothes of a dead human woman and begins traversing the streets of Glasgow, picking up the men as they walk home or go to the grocery store.

She carefully selects men who will not be missed- men who are loners or family-less.

As the film goes along Johansson becomes more sympathetic. She yearns to become a human and to do what humans do- she goes to a diner and attempts to eat a delicious slice of cake and vomits the contents.

She has a strange man on a motorcycle following her, making sure she completes her assigned tasks. Some of these conclusions are surmised as the lack of dialogue in the film adds to the mystique.

A particularly frightening scene, and my favorite in the film, involves the female alien meeting a swimmer on the beach, who is on holiday in Scotland.

Her flirtation with him as she attempts to accost him is thwarted by a family in peril. A father, mother, and infant son are enjoying a day on the secluded beach.

Suddenly, their dog begins to drown as the waves become too intense. The mother struggles in a panic to swim to the dog and rescue it- the father then does the same.

What happens next is very sad and the female alien and the motorcycle man both leave the screaming infant to die without so much as a second glance.

This poses a few questions- are they, aliens, without emotions for human suffering? Do they not care? Do they revel in the misery? Do they simply not realize what is going on? The viewer will ponder these questions and others long after the film ends.

Later, the audience is confused further as the female alien meets a severely deformed man, and they bond as she drives him to, presumably, his death. She loves his hands and is fascinated by his tenderness towards her. As they talk she shows signs of caring for a human being as they begin a sweet friendship.

Why does she bond with this disfigured man instead of the more handsome men she meets? Does she relate to him due to her growing feelings of being a misfit and desiring to be human?

Visually the film is creative. Spellbinding is the sequence involving the men being submerged in the black fluid as they slowly disappear leaving only the skin. Their transformation is slow, methodical, and imaginative and one relishes what is going on.

The score is reminiscent of Rosemary’s Baby (1968) in its eeriness and visually the film must have been influenced by Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968).

Under the Skin (2013) is a fantastic journey through a weird, perplexing, sometimes confusing world, but leaves me thinking and glued to the activity onscreen.

It is an art film that breaks barriers and provokes interest and intrigue not catering to mainstream expectations. It is what art films are meant to do- challenge.

More films should take risks like these.

Independent Spirit Award Nominations: Best International Film

#194 Favorite Film, 1975 Films, Art, Drama, Giancarlo Giannini, International, International Drama, Italian, Lina Wertmüller, Top 250 Films

Seven Beauties-1975

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Seven Beauties-1975

Director Lina Wertmüller

Starring Giancarlo Giannini, Shirley Stoler, Fernando Rey

Top 250 Films #194

Scott’s Review #1,364

Reviewed June 3, 2023

Grade: A

Italian Director Lina Wertmüller was the first female ever nominated for the coveted Best Director Oscar. She did not win the award but the nomination is a bold victory for women artists in 1975 and a testament to her visionary approach to filmmaking.

With Seven Beauties (1975) she tackles the painful subject of concentration camps during World War II with artistic merit and a powerful message of survival by her lead character, Pasqualino, brilliantly played by Giancarlo Giannini.

Through Pasqualino’s backstory, Wertmüller provides comic relief and a sizzling Italian style. This counterbalances the terrifying German elements with cultural and sometimes humorous sequences set in Italy. Pasqualino’s family hijinks are explored.

Back in 1930s Italy, Pasqualino is a struggling low-level Sicilian thug who accidentally kills a man who disgraced his unattractive and vulnerable sister Concettina (Elena Fiore). He escapes imprisonment by joining the military but goes AWOL when things get too severe.

Eventually, Pasqualino is captured and sent to a concentration camp where he vows to do anything to survive. He attempts to seduce an evil and obese female German camp commander (Shirley Stoler) but this comes at a deadly price.

I’ll argue that Stoler should have received a Best Supporting Actress Oscar nomination. Her callous nature only deepens as her character is peeled back and Pasqualino’s hope that she has a glimmer of kindness in her is dashed. She is one of the best screen villains of all time.

Seven Beauties is an art film with gorgeous visuals especially potent in the concentration camp and surrounding forest. The greyness of the camp is perfectly opposite the pizazz of Italy.

As Pasqualino and comrade Francesco wander around the looming German forest the camera points upwards to the sky in a blurry and dizzying form.

At the start of the film, black and white footage of World War II encompasses the screen, and slivers of the tyrants Mussolini and Hitler are displayed.

If not for the macabre dark humor we see in Italy, Seven Beauties might be too much of a downer. Pasqualino’s seven sisters are unattractive and one is living the life of a struggling stripper and prostitute. He also manages to cleverly chop a body to bits and stuff the body parts into suitcases.

Back in Germany, the scenes between Pasqualino and the female commander are frightening. He is forced to provide sexual pleasures in exchange for his survival but when she callously orders him to select six mates to be executed her viciousness is apparent.

Giannini is a fabulous actor and heartbreakingly reveals Pasqualino’s vulnerabilities as the film plows forward. His good-natured innocence is lost forever and the man he winds up as is darker.

But the caveat is that the character is never purely good but rather layered in complexities. Always, Giannini emotes deep expressionism through his powerful green eyes.

Similarities between Seven Beauties and Fellini’s Amarcord (1973) or Fellini’s Roma (1972) are evident. Had I not known Wertmüller directed the film I would have thought Fellini had. This is more so because of the Italy sequences featuring a bevy of zany, homely characters which adds flavor and humor.

Fernando Rey, well-known for playing the villain in The French Connection (1971) appears as a doomed prisoner who ends up in a large tub of shit rather than suffer a forced execution.

The executions are sob-inducing as lines and lines of prisoners being callously shot and killed are tough to watch. But, the core of the film is about the viciousness of humanity and this must never be forgotten.

Wertmüller delivers a masterpiece that I’ve now seen only twice. I plan to watch this film again and again for the content to sink in more.

The comic elements of Seven Beauties (1975) never diminish or lighten the horror of the Nazi’s actions since they are not done in parallel. The back and forth between periods only add value and balance to a powerful subject matter.

Oscar Nominations: Best Foreign Language Film, Best Director-Lina Wertmüller, Best Actor-Giancarlo Giannini, Best Screenplay-Written Directly for the Screen

#232 Favorite Film, 1960 Films, Art, Drama, Gabriele Ferzetti, International, International Drama, Italian, Lea Massari, Michelangelo Antonioni, Monica Vitti, Top 250 Films

L’Avventura-1960

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L’Avventura-1960

Director Michelangelo Antonioni

Starring Gabriele Ferzetti, Monica Vitti

Top 250 Films #232

Scott’s Review #1,167

Reviewed July 30, 2021

Grade: A

L’Avventura (1960) is similar to the horror masterpiece Psycho (1960), released the same year. However, they are not exactly opposite on the surface.

One is an American horror film directed by an esteemed British director, and the other is an Italian art film. What do they have in common?

Forgetting that the former is not a horror film, L’Avventura first introduces a character that the audience is particular to be the main character, only to pull a switcheroo midstream and make other characters the central protagonists.

What Janet Leigh’s Marion Crane was to John Garvin, Vera Miles, Sam Loomis, and Lila Crane in Psycho.

Be that as it may, as an interesting if not wholly odd comparison, L’Avventura is a brilliant film and not just for the story alone. Black and white cinematography of the grandest kind transplants the film viewer to a fabulous yet haunting island where the events occur.

Frequent shots of the gorgeous Mediterranean Sea and its roaring waves pepper the action.

In Michelangelo Antonioni’s classic of Italian cinema, two beautiful young women, Claudia (Monica Vitti) and Anna (Léa Massari), join Anna’s lover, Sandro (Gabriele Ferzetti), on a boat trip to a remote volcanic island.

They plan to spend their time cruising, resting, and relaxing on the Mediterranean. The trio is all good-looking and resides on the outskirts of Rome. They join two wealthy couples and depart on their excursion,

A search is launched when Anna suddenly disappears on an island stop. Meanwhile, Sandro and Claudia become involved in a romance despite Anna’s disappearance, though the relationship suffers from the guilt and tension brought about by the looming mystery.

Their relationship is intriguing, given their roller-coaster emotions. Their burgeoning romance and Anna’s disappearance overlap.

Assumed to be the film’s focal point, Anna eventually serves as more of a ghost character and quickly disappears from the screen.

This threw me for a loop.

Events do not remain on the island but return to the Italian mainland, where Sandro and Claudia continue with their guilt, finally becoming convinced Anna might have returned!

The brilliant and ambitious thing about L’Avventura is that the film changes course many times.

On the surface, it appears to be a film about a missing girl and a friend’s attempts to locate her. But Antonioni delves into a film about emotions and the meaning of life, making the audience go deeper along with the characters.

Eventually, Sandro and Claudia chase a ghost of their design and plod along unhappy and unfulfilled, suffering paranoia.

L’Avventura is all about the characters and the cinematography, and each immerses well with the other.

Many characters exchange glances with each other that the audience can read into. What was the relationship between Sandro and Claudia before the cruise? What is Anna and Sandro’s backstory? And what’s become of Anna? Did she run off and drown, or was she murdered?

The camerawork is stunning; each shot is a lovely escapade into another world. The yacht cruise and island sequences are awe-inspiring. I love how the characters explore different sections of the island instead of dully standing on the shore or in similar shots.

As the title says, the point is both physical and cerebral adventure.

L’Avventura (1960) is a film that will make you think, ponder, escape, and discuss the true meaning. Isn’t that what great art cinema does?

Antonioni also made me consider comparisons to another great art film creator- the Swedish director Ingmar Bergman.

1963 Films, Art, Gunnel Lindblom, Ingmar Bergman, Ingrid Thulin, Jorgen Lindstrom, Swedish

The Silence-1963

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The Silence-1963

Director Ingmar Bergman

Starring Gunnel Lindblom, Ingrid Thulin

Scott’s Review #1,435

Reviewed July 28, 2024

Grade: A

Like most Ingmar Bergman films, careful concentration is highly recommended. Consistently in the art film genre, his films are rich with substance and deep thought. Being alert and focused makes his films most rewarding.

The Silence (1963) is not one of his best-known films, taking a backseat to The Seventh Seal (1957), The Virgin Spring (1960), and Wild Strawberries (1963), three of his more recognizable works.

It is no slouch and is quite excellent resembling Persona (1966) a Bergman film yet to be released.

The Silence is sometimes considered the third film in a trilogy that includes Through a Glass Darkly (1961) and Winter Light (1963). The trilogy focuses on spiritual issues, but the films need not be watched sequentially.

His films often center on one character caring for another character who is brewing anger, conflict, or self-reflection about life, death, and the existence of God.

Traveling through an unnamed European country on the brink of war, sickly, intellectual Ester (Ingrid Thulin), her sister Anna (Gunnel Lindblom), and Anna’s young son, Johan (Jorgen Lindstrom), check into a near-empty hotel for shelter.

Even though Ester is a linguist, they cannot verbally communicate with the locals. They also have trouble communicating with each other due to their estrangement.

Anna provokes her sister by enjoying a dalliance with a local waiter, while Johan, left to himself, has a series of strange encounters that heighten their growing isolation.

There is also an elderly hotel porter and a group of Spanish dwarfs who are part of a traveling show.

One gorgeous scene occurs when Anna ventures into the city alone and is openly advanced by a waiter in a cafe. He places her change on the table and knocks a coin to the floor. When he crouches down to retrieve it, he quickly brushes her leg.

Later, she watches a show in an uncrowded theatre and is both repelled and fascinated when a young couple begins to have sex in a seat nearby.

Anna returns to the cafe, brushes past the waiter, and returns to the hotel.

The scenes exude sexuality since Anna is cautiously but certainly on the prowl for sex. She and the unnamed waiter have an instant, animalistic attraction that smolders onscreen.

Some say the relationship between Anna and Ester can be interpreted as a push and pull between the same person. That impacts me as much as two separate people, and I kept thinking about this point throughout the film.

Bergman incorporates several shots of the two women either side by side or their faces very close. This enhances the idea that they could be one person with deep psychological conflict.

There is no question that The Silence was influential to other films to come. Three Women (1977) and Mulholland Drive (2001) immediately come to mind since both delve into cerebral and dreamlike relationships between two women.

The film is shot in black and white like most, if not all, of his other films. This creates a stark mood and supports the conflict in the storyline, especially Ester’s illness.

Furthermore, because of the language barrier and emotional drama, there is little dialogue, making the film almost like a silent movie.

It’s an incredible work with familiar storylines created by Bergman that question the complexity of relationships, thoughts, and emotions.

I was left with the message from The Silence (1963) that human beings are incredibly complex, and it’s terrific that it’s explored in cinema.

Thanks to ownership of a robust Criterion Collection set of thirty-nine of Bergman’s films, I look forward to seeing more of the brilliant Swedish director’s works.

2023 Films, Art, Best International Film Oscar Winners, Christian Friedel, German, International, International Thriller, Jonathan Glazer, Sandra Hüller, Thriller

The Zone of Interest-2023

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The Zone of Interest-2023

Director Jonathan Glazer

Starring Christian Friedel, Sandra Hüller

Scott’s Review #1,419

Reviewed February 2, 2024

Grade: A

The Zone of Interest (2023) offers a unique experience for its audience. It’s one of a distant observer to unthinkable horrors and events that took place during the 1940s occupied Poland.

A lovely estate rife with flourishing flowers and plush gardens surrounds the haunting setting of the Auschwitz concentration camp.

Exterminations and unspeakable acts of human suffering occur daily whilst a German family enjoys their dream home hardly unnerved by what’s going on steps away.

The father is the mastermind behind the suffering.

The macabre film is extraordinary, and powerful, and will haunt you long after it ends.

The subject matter of the Holocaust in cinema is usually told with a visual examination of the victims. In The Zone of Interest, though, what you don’t see is worse than what you do.

The commandant of Auschwitz, Rudolf Höss (Christian Friedel), and his wife Hedwig (Sandra Hüller) live a seemingly idyllic life with their five children. They fish, swim, and frolic among the confines of their house and garden next to the camp.

Höss is a high-ranking and respected member of the Third Reich. Servants handle chores around the house, while the prisoners’ belongings are given to the family.

As a viewer, I first thought to myself what a happy family they seem to be. I was quickly sickened when I realized what was going on over the top of their high walls and their role in it.

Director, Jonathan Glazer, brought us disturbing films such as Birth (2004) and Under the Skin (2015) and revolts even more with The Zone of Interest. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a film quite like it.

Usually, what happens in a film happens on screen. Seeing the Jews gassed or shot or tortured is horrific enough. Spielberg’s Schindler’s List (1993) was a masterpiece by visually featuring the nature of the Holocaust in an inventive black-and-white way.

We see the victims.

In The Zone of Interest, it’s the sound that is effective. Beyond the garden wall, gunshots, shouting, and sounds of trains and furnaces are constantly heard.

The nights are even worse.

A quick glimpse of flames and smoke roaring to the sky are the visuals key to the events taking place next door.

We only very quickly see a parade of prisoners march through the grass……once.

Höss approves the design of a new crematorium, which soon becomes operational. With horror, it is confirmed that thousands of Jews are gassed and burned.

Glazer keeps the viewer at a distance with more than just experiencing the unseen. The cameras are set far back from events so the audience observes the family instead of being alongside.

There are no closeups.

The lighting is superior. Muted tones portray the starkness of the period. Effective is how everything appears grey except the flowers in the garden.

Some peculiarities exist that are hard to figure out. In two sequences, a Polish girl who lives nearby sneaks out every night, hiding food at the prisoners’ work sites for them to find and eat.

The film is a clay animation style similar to what Glazer used in parts of Under the Skin. It’s weird, stylistic, and fascinating.

Late in the film, Höss descends a staircase and retches. He does so again. I’m not sure why he does. Is he subconsciously sickened by the death he causes? He has been tasked with a new initiative to transport hundreds of thousands of Hungarian Jews to Auschwitz to be killed.

The mission has been named after him.

Is it too much for him to deal with?

The film ends with a modern scene of a group of janitors cleaning the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum before it opens.

I was dying to know what happened to Höss and Hedwig.

It’s a searing film, unforgettable and uncomfortable. It plods and sickens but is pure art. It’s troublesome and a unique entry for Holocaust films. Glazer finds a new way to examine material told in cinema for decades.

The Zone of Interest (2023) is a painful masterpiece and a thinking man’s film.

Oscar Nominations: 2 wins-Best Picture, Best Director-Jonathan Glazer, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best International Feature Film (won), Best Sound (won)

Independent Spirit Award Nominations: Best International Film

2022 Films, Alec Baldwin, Art, Cate Blanchett, Drama, Julian Glover, Mark Strong, Nina Hoss, Noémie Merlant, Sophie Kauer, Todd Field

Tár-2022

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Tár-2022

Director Todd Field

Starring Cate Blanchett, Nina Hoss, Noémie Merlant

Scott’s Review #1,315

Reviewed November 18, 2022

Grade: A

Tár (2022) is a brilliant film that truly belongs to Cate Blanchett. I cannot picture any other actress in this role but her.

I can pretty much watch any film that she appears in, with my favorite being her self-titled role in Carol (2015). But Tár is a close second.

In Tár, again in the title role, she plays a brilliant woman whom the audience admires but slowly discovers pieces of her personality are tarnished and brittle beneath the surface. As the film progresses, her character’s psyche is gradually peeled back, like an onion.

This lofty praise of Blanchett is in no way meant to diminish the rest of Tár because it revels in grandiose riches. The pacing, musical score, and other acting performances are to be championed.

When I found out that Todd Field was directing Tár, my spirits began to soar.

After all, he directed In the Bedroom (2001) and Little Children (2006), two tremendous films set a quiet, small-town settings that brim with secrets and scandals, which slowly rise to the surface.

The subdued locales are scrapped in favor of Berlin, a busy, behemoth of a city in Germany. Some of the events take place in New York City, resulting in a large, cosmopolitan atmosphere. A cold, grey, stark quality encompasses the luminous settings.

Tár requires the viewer’s absolute patience to get the most out of it. It can be tough to follow with very long sequences, but the Field/Blanchett combination culminates in a muddy and dazzling conclusion.

Blanchett plays Lydia Tár, the groundbreaking conductor of a major German Orchestra. We meet Tár at the height of her career, in high demand, as she’s preparing both a book launch and a much-anticipated live performance of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony.

What could go wrong? In Lydia’s case, just about everything.

Over a few weeks, her life begins to unravel. The result is an examination of power and its effect on those who have it and those who don’t.

The timely #MeToo movement is in top form.

The gender flip is also quite interesting since typically it’s males who have and abuse the power, but Lydia is a female and a lesbian.

I spent a good part of Tár feeling perplexed, anxious, and compelled. It’s a slow burn, but I always knew, with Field in the director’s seat, that a big payoff awaited me. I happily jumped into his arms and waited for the shit to hit the fan.

The key to Tár is that many of the events have happened off-screen and before the current events of the film. There is a mysterious, suicidal, former student of Lydia’s in the mix. She sends desperate, pleading emails to Lydia and her assistant.

We wonder how the former student is connected to the events.

Lydia relies on Francesca (Noémie Merlant), her attentive personal assistant, and Sharon (Nina Hoss), her ailing wife and concertmaster, for almost everything.

Soon, a new and gifted Russian cellist named Olga (Sophie Kauer) arrives on the scene. With Lydia smitten, how will Olga fit in with the other women?

Francesca, Sharon, and Olga are three pivotal female characters, and each actress is exceptional in the role.

Tár reminds me of both Whiplash (2014) and Black Swan (2010) for different reasons. It envelops the world of classical music like Whiplash did for jazz and Black Swan did for the ballet world.

All three films can be watched closely together, and more similarities can be noticed.

Tár is a film that can be owned and watched again to piece together the jagged puzzle pieces. It’s a rare moment in modern cinema that can be rewatched.

Since it contains music, the orchestra and maestro sequences are wonderfully constructed, so the coldness of the events mirrors the song choices.

Stark and boiling over with gems like mystique, uncertainty, and sophistication, Tár (2022) rejuvenates modern film with a bleak yet thought-provoking story of a powerful woman.

It’s a film that engrosses and thrills.

Oscar Nominations: Best Picture, Best Director-Todd Field, Best Actress-Cate Blanchett, Best Original Screenplay, Best Cinematography, Best Film Editing

Independent Spirit Award Nominations: 1 win-Best Feature, Best Director-Todd Field, Best Lead Performance-Cate Blanchett, Best Supporting Performance-Nina Hoss, Best Screenplay, Best Cinematography (won), Best Editing

2022 Films, Adrien Brody, Ana de Armas, Andrew Dominik, Art, Biography, Bobby Cannavale, Brad Pitt, David Warshofsky, Drama, Julianne Nicholson, Scoot McNairy, Toby Huss, Xavier Samuel

Blonde-2022

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Blonde-2022

Director Andrew Dominik

Starring Ana de Armas, Adrien Brody, Bobby Cannavale

Scott’s Review #1,305

Reviewed October 7, 2022

Grade: A

Blonde (2022) is not the kind of film that I expected.

When I became aware that a new film vehicle showcasing the legendary film icon Marilyn Monroe was in the works, I assumed it would be a biographical-style effort. After all, this is hardly the first time the star’s life has been explored.

Throw in bits about her struggles, her love life, her famous screen roles, and her rise to fame, and there you’d have it.

My only real thought was who would be playing her?

Films about Marilyn have been made before, including the most recent effort I can recall, My Week With Marilyn (2011), starring Michelle Williams, a superior film but hardly groundbreaking or well remembered ten years later.

Released via the Netflix streaming service, director Andrew Dominik kicks the shit out of any preconceived notions about glamorous, happy, and prosperous Marilyn.

He creates a story focused on the dark side of the star: her failures, her insecurities, her forced abortions, and her humiliations. The result is a film that is both tragic and profound, and it should be well remembered.

Blonde delves into facts and some of the more profound thoughts of the legend herself, creating a muddy and dreamlike quality that makes the viewer apprehensive about what’s going on.

Since it’s based on Joyce Carol Oates’ 2000 fictional memoir, which is her interpretation of events, it makes truth and imagination all the muddier.

It’s not happy days watching Blonde, which left me wondering if Marilyn had a happy day in her life. From her abortions to sexual harassment, drug addiction, and physical abuse by her husband, she excitedly scampers off to a date with President Kennedy, only to be forced to give him oral sex.

Ana de Armas, known for Knives Out (2019) and No Time to Die (2021), is brilliant as Marilyn. Her mannerisms, speech patterns, and facial expressions reveal a genuine, layered portrayal rather than a carbon copy imitation of her.

Blonde boldly reimagines the life of one of Hollywood’s most enduring icons in two hours and forty-seven minutes of storytelling. It is advisable not to watch the film in one sitting, but instead spread it over three nights to let the story unfold.

Events begin with her volatile childhood as Norma Jeane, marked by an abusive mother and an absent father, and her rise to stardom and romantic entanglements. Blonde blurs the lines of fact and fiction to explore the widening split between her public and private selves.

In a way, Marilyn suffered from a split personality, longing to be Norma Jeane and despising Marilyn.

Enhancing the ambiguity, Dominik elects to use cinematography that is sometimes blurry as if in a sleepy haze, and sprinkles color with the primarily black and white filming. He even films one abortion scene from the perspective of Marilyn’s vagina.

These creative details lead me to classify Blonde as an art film and a highly interpretive one.

While not a crowd-pleaser, Blonde is not all doom and gloom either.

Tidbits about her most famous films, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) and Some Like It Hot (1959) are featured, showcasing one or two neat camera tricks, so it appears that de Armas is acting opposite Tony Curtis.

I worry that poor reviews for Blonde may hinder de Armas’s chances of receiving an Academy Award nomination. Positive reviews usually help secure Oscar recognition.

Thankfully, despite many critics and viewers having issues with the film, de Armas has received worldwide acclaim.

Bobby Cannavale and Adrien Brody are excellent as Marilyn’s husbands, controlling Joe DiMaggio and insecure artist Arthur Miller. Both actors combine effective acting with distinguished portrayals, allowing the audience to appreciate the appeal of both men.

Other interesting subplots involve Monroe’s ‘throuple’ romance with bisexual actors Cass and Eddy, and a haunting exposure of the abuse suffered by Marilyn at the hands of her mother, Gladys, wonderfully played by Julianne Nicholson.

There is little doubt that Blonde (2022) is an unconventional film that may not appeal to everyone. However, it’s the down-and-dirty texture and tour-de-force portrayal of Monroe that won me over.

It chilled me to the bone in the best possible way.

Oscar Nominations: Best Actress-Ana de Armas

2022 Films, Art, David Cronenberg, Horror, Kristen Stewart, Léa Seydoux, Science Fiction, Scott Speedman, Viggo Mortensen

Crimes of the Future-2022

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Crimes of the Future-2022

Director David Cronenberg

Starring Viggo Mortensen, Léa Seydoux

Scott’s Review #1,295

Reviewed September 2, 2022

Grade: B

Being somewhat familiar with the work of director David Cronenberg and the macabre and unsettling elements he incorporates into his films, I had a fair idea of what type of experience I was in for.

There was anticipation as I slipped the Blu-ray of Crimes of the Future (2022) into the player.

He’s responsible for such peculiar pleasures as Eastern Promises (2007), an annual Christmas time watch for my husband and me, and A History of Violence (2005) a gangster-flavored effort.

Cronenberg frequently teeters between psychological horror and science fiction, though he has dabbled in other genres.

Stalwart actor Viggo Mortensen once again graces the screen in one of Cronenberg’s films and leads the charge as the main protagonist in Crimes of the Future.

Visually, the film is astounding with creepy shapes and visceral red images floating about, mainly in the opening credits. It’s riddled with a subdued and mellow mood, taking its time to get going and allowing for somber tones and textures.

It’s a challenging and weird watch, but somehow slowly lures the viewer into its confusing web.

Be warned, though, that the story is inexplicable and impossible to figure out. I even read a post-film synopsis and was still unclear how the puzzle pieces are supposed to come together. But maybe they aren’t.

Crimes of the Future is the type of film that is recommended to be digested and left to ruminate in one’s inner being. The translation is not to overthink the events but rather to enjoy what is being served.

Sometime soon, the human species will have adapted to a new synthetic environment, causing bodies to undergo new transformations and mutations. With his partner, Caprice (Léa Seydoux), Saul Tenser (Mortensen), a celebrity performance artist, publicly showcases the metamorphosis of his organs in avant-garde performances.

In simpler terms, his body is cut open for all to see.

An odd character named Timlin (Kristen Stewart), an investigator from the National Organ Registry, obsessively tracks their movements. A mysterious group exists with a mission to use Saul’s notoriety to shed light on the next phase of human evolution.

The summary is tough to write and even more challenging to explain so that I won’t waste space on it. I’ll leave it to say that the above is the best that can be presented, and that only a fascinating story element is present in the events.

Something about science fiction and the future typically evokes mystique and wonder.

I could watch Mortensen in pretty much any film, which is the main reason to see Crimes of the Future. The actor is so keen on choosing just the right roles for himself, and each is so different from the last.

Comparing his recent films, such as Captain Fantastic (2016), Green Book (2018), and Crimes of the Future, reveals that the actor continues to challenge himself by exploring the depth of each character, rather than capitalizing on name recognition to secure a hefty paycheck, like other similarly aged Hollywood actors.

I won’t name names, but Liam Neeson could take a note or two from Mortensen.

Seydoux, a French actress, pairs well with Mortensen. She possesses a sophisticated European vibe that translates well within this distant future. She is sexy, and because of the subject matter, this is crucial to the film’s visual style.

I’m not quite sure what to make of Kristen Stewart as the nutty and nerdy Timlin, but it’s a shocking follow-up to a fabulous portrayal of Princess Diana. As she speaks rapidly with timidity, it’s a particular role, but it’s nice to see Stewart continue to go with edgy roles.

Because it’s Cronenberg, Crimes of the Future (2022) is cerebral and provocative with a fleshy and grim style. I’d expect nothing less from the director, but would have preferred a more cohesive package.

Ultimately, I couldn’t fully grasp the film, which makes it difficult for me to recommend it thoroughly.

2021 Films, Art, Drama, Independent, Independent Drama, Jack Farthing, Kristen Stewart, Maren Ade, Pablo Larraín, Sally Hawkins, Sean Harris, Timothy Spall

Spencer-2021

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Spencer-2021

Director Pablo Larraín

Starring Kristen Stewart, Timothy Spall

Scott’s Review #1,193

Reviewed November 7, 2021

Grade: A

In the 2020s, there has been a sudden flurry of depictions of and attention given to Princess Diana, a tragic figure in British royalty who came to an untimely death in 1997.  The Netflix series The Crown and a documentary immediately come to mind.

While they offer tremendous offerings, they often stay on the mainstream or historic course.

But Director Pablo Larraín presents a daring and rather unpleasant portrayal of a miserable Christmas weekend the Princess spent with the royal family in 1991, a time when her marriage to Prince Charles had reached the point of no return.

Spencer (2021) is a brilliant art film focused on the troubled young woman’s dealings with her children, her eating disorder, her loneliness and despair, and, of course, relationships with the royal family.

Kristen Stewart delivers a career-defining performance as Diana and bravely puts on full naked display the shocking reality of the real-life figure’s innermost thoughts and demons.

Larraín prefaces the film with the sentence ‘a fable about a real-life tragedy’ or something to that effect.

The crumbling marriage of Princess Diana (Spencer) and Prince Charles (Jack Farthing) has sparked rumors of infidelity and an impending divorce. Still, peace is demanded during the Christmas festivities at the Queen’s Sandringham Estate.

The lavish spread of magnificent food, pheasant hunting, and family photos would be the dream of many. Still, Diana is counting down the minutes until she can escape the dreary experience.

Restless, Diana imagines her life without the royal family and yearns to escape her trapped life. She fantasizes, binges, and purges while spending time with her children, clinging to her friend and Royal Dresser, Maggie (Sally Hawkins), and befriending the kindly Equerry, Major Alistair Gregory (Timothy Spall).

He leaves a book about Anne Boleyn, the tragic wife of Henry VIII, which Diana becomes obsessed with.

My two biggest takeaways are Stewart’s performance and the musical score.

Stewart has long attempted to separate herself from her household name-making performances as Bella Swan in the Twilight Saga film series (2008-2012). Several supporting roles in independent features, such as Still Alice (2014) and Cafe Society (2016), followed, but with Spencer, she hits the jackpot.

Her vulnerability and insecurity infuse themselves into Diana with ferocity and power, to the extent that I became immersed in her mannerisms as much as in the words she spoke.

A long and painful dinner scene (my favorite scene) with no dialogue features a close-up of Stewart as she angrily glares at several members of the dinner party. Her disgust at both them and the life she now leads is apparent.

Stewart displays how much Diana desired to escape from her cage, where she felt as trapped as an animal would.

Jonny Greenwood crafts a haunting and powerful musical score. He is the lead guitarist of the alternative rock band Radiohead and has scored numerous film scores.

In the sequence listed above, he employs bombastic and eerie stringed instruments, accompanied by a powerful drum beat. Later, as Diana wanders the grand halls, he expresses her frustration with his music.

It’s an essential part of the film.

To lighten the mood, the 1986 hit song “All I Need Is A Miracle” by Mike and the Mechanics is played while Diana and her boys drive in their car on a sunny day, singing along.

Spall and Hawkins play vital supporting roles as Diana’s only true allies. Spall is quiet and reserved, but reveals a great deal through his facial expressions, as his sympathy for Diana is apparent. In a surprise twist, Hawkins’s Maggie admits both her sexuality and her love for Diana as the two grow even closer.

Diana was a powerful ally to the LGBTQ+ community during a time when few were, and the film serves as a poignant reminder of her open-mindedness and heart.

Spencer (2021) is not the crowdpleaser some, including myself, would have expected, and may even turn off some viewers with its depressing and embroiled cinematic fury.

However, it’s far superior to a popcorn feature, offering a more profound emotional experience and an exceptional psychological appeal that transports us into an imaginative state.

Oscar Nominations: Best Actress-Kristen Spencer

1953 Films, Art, Drama, International, International Drama, Japanese, Kenji Mizoguchi, Machiko Kyō, Masayuki Mori

Ugetsu-1953

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Ugetsu-1953

Director Kenji Mizoguchi

Starring Masayuki Mori, Machiko Kyo

Scott’s Review #1,147

Reviewed May 31, 2021

Grade: A

Kenji Mizoguchi, who directed the brave Japanese masterpiece Ugetsu (1953), successfully brought Eastern cinema to Western audiences when the film was discovered. The result is a groundbreaking ghost story that gorgeously fuses reality with the supernatural.

It’s not always clear what is going on, but in only the best of ways. It’s like being inside a dream.

The notice is long overdue, as Mizoguchi has been making films since the 1920s! But his forever stamp on cinema is worth the wait, and Ugetsu is a timeless treasure.

Ugetsu is not the most straightforward plot to follow, but that is fine because its brilliance lies in other areas. Like every area, to be precise.

The cinematography, the mix of reality and the supernatural, the tone, the questioning messages, and the character conflict all add muscle.

It’s cinema to be experienced and mesmerized by. Haunting, sad, and stoic, it explores themes such as war, family, and forbidden relationships.

Its cultural exploration is essential, and it teaches Japanese customs. This film taught me what great cinema is—not necessarily linear or explained, but drenched with brilliance, thoughtfulness, and art. I was able to escape the confines of traditionally constructed films, and it was an awakening in pleasure and creativity.

The lesson learned is that cinema knows no boundaries, and the film helped open my eyes to types and styles of films that may be deemed onerous.

Drawing its plot, particularly from Ueda’s tales “The House in the Thicket” and “The Lust of the White Serpent,” the film is set in Azuchi–Momoyama period Japan (1573–1600). Mizoguchi was fascinated and inspired by these fables and the supernatural style from the long-ago, powerful, and classic stories.

A peasant farmer and potter, Genjūrō (Masayuki Mori) leaves his wife and young son behind during the civil war and is seduced by a spirit that threatens his life. He finds himself at a Kutsuki mansion to sell his pottery.

The mansion is run by fabulous Lady Wakasa (Machiko Kyo), who seduces him and requests that he marry her.

But is Lady Wakasa real or a ghost from the past? She harbors a horrific secret.

A subplot involves Genjūrō’s friend, Tōbei (Eitaro Ozawa), who dreams of becoming a great samurai and chases this goal at the unintended expense of his wife. He steals the head of a well-known general and is rewarded with shiny armor. Eager to tell his wife, he finds her working at a local brothel.

The costumes specifically deserve a shout-out. Drenched in Japanese drawings and colors, they are exquisite to the eye despite Ugetsu being a black-and-white film. The apparent art looks better without color adding mystique.

My favorite visual is when two couples drift along in a boat on a tremendous lake. Amid fog and haze, the scene is gloomy yet magnificent, offering lush Japanese geography. It’s a breathtaking visual with a fabulous texture and tone that, once again, is aided by black-and-white filmmaking.

The ghost story also is aided by the black and white cinematography. Isn’t everything? The scenes seem to scroll by in a fusion of live-action and gorgeous landscapes.

It is up for debate what is reality and what is not, which adds to the confusion and overall beauty.

The humanity and moral conflict the two main characters face are hearty and worthy of discussion. They strive for great success and riches but live in a cruel world.

I found the men to be heroes. Ugetsu is as much a character study as it is an art film.

Ugetsu (1953) is a must-see for film lovers and those intrigued by other cultures. If it is not already, it should appear on lists of superior films shown at film schools.

Oscar Nominations: Best Costume Design, Black and White

2019 Films, Adèle Haenel, Art, Céline Sciamma, Drama, Independent, Independent Drama, International, International Drama, LGBTQ+ Drama, LGBTQ+ Films, Noémie Merlant, Romantic Drama

Portrait of a Lady on Fire-2019

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Portrait of a Lady on Fire-2019

Director Céline Sciamma

Starring Noémie Merlant, Adèle Haenel

Scott’s Review #1,114

Reviewed February 19, 2021

Grade: A-

A film with tremendous artistry and a cool LGBTQ+ vibe, gay director Céline Sciamma delivers the goods with interesting finesse in Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019).

She takes modern-looking actors and transplants them to the era of France during the late 18th century.

The film tells the story of a forbidden affair between an aristocrat and a painter commissioned to paint her portrait.

The viewer will ask themselves the following questions. What would become of two young gay women in this long-ago age? How many people repressed their true feelings and desires because of the times they lived in?

Would their different classes and backgrounds cause strife within their burgeoning relationship? I know I constantly asked myself these questions.

To those with limited cinematic patience, be forewarned. A Portrait of a Lady on Fire is plodding.

I didn’t mind this aspect, but some might. The payoff is not bombastic in an act of violence or an explosion sort of way, but it’s well worth the effort put in.

In a common approach in modern film that is feeling more standard than special, the first scene often precedes the events in the rest of the movie, so that we know how the events will turn out. But we do not know the hows and the whys.

It is immediately assumed that one character has suffered some loss or misfortune related to a painting.

Painter, Marianne (Noémie Merlant), is summoned to a remote island inhabited by very few people. She is commissioned to paint the wedding portrait of Héloïse (Adèle Haene), who is destined to be married to a nobleman in Milan, Italy.

Héloïse is depressed and despondent, wanting nothing to do with her intended, whom she has not met.

The portrait is a gift to the never-seen husband-to-be. It is revealed that Héloïse’s sister leaped to her death from the cliffs on the family estate, so it’s suggested throughout that she may suffer the same fate.

Needless to say, Marianne and Héloïse fall madly in love.

Their love is hardly ever a question, as the chemistry is immediately noticed. Sciamma, who wrote the screenplay, avoids stereotypes that would give away the sexuality of the main characters. They are not butch nor do they possess masculine qualities.

Do we wonder if they are bisexual? They never struggle with their sexuality, a dramatic cliche in other LGBTQ+ films.

I adore this because it makes the love story more powerful, rather than one character pursuing the conflicted other.

As brilliant and artistic as I found Portrait of a Lady on Fire to be, there are a couple of unexplained or unclear aspects. I am not even sure how they relate to the main story.

Waifish housemaid Sophie has an abortion with assistance from Marianne and Héloïse. Later, the three go to a bonfire gathering where women sing, during which Héloïse’s dress briefly catches fire (just as shown in the painting featured in the beginning).

When Sophie is having the abortion, there is an infant and a child nearby. Are they her children? Who are the women who sing?

I didn’t understand the point of these items.

Fortunately, these missteps can be forgiven for the grander piece is exceptional filmmaking. The final shot of Héloïse sitting in a theater is phenomenal and borrowed from Call Me By Your Name (2017), which featured an identical scene.

The camera focuses on the face of actress Haene as she conveys a range of emotions during the flawless scene. What a win for an actor!

Despite some side story flaws, I adored Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019).

The film is exceptionally shot, and almost all shots could be portraits in their own right. Charming are the beach sequences, as when Marianne and Héloïse first ignite the flames of their passion.

My takeaway is that it tells the story of fate, but doesn’t feel like a downer. Instead, it feels like life.

Independent Spirit Award Nominations: Best International Film

1970 Films, Art, Czech, Fantasy, Horror, International, International Horror, Jaromil Jireš, Jaroslava Schallerová

Valerie and Her Week of Wonders-1970

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Valerie and Her Week of Wonders-1970

Director Jaromil Jireš

Starring Jaroslava Schallerová

Scott’s Review #1,076

Reviewed October 30, 2020

Grade: B+

One of the oddest films I’ve ever laid eyes on. The best way to view a film like Valerie and Her Week of Wonder (1970) is to absorb it and let it either pull you in or turn you off.

The cadence is to feel the film and then, later, search for any semblance of meaning or interpretation, or perhaps never.

The genre best to categorize the film is art cinema meets fantasy meets horror meets fairy tale. Is it ever a bizarre experience? If one is to take hallucinogens first, this film is a recommended watch.

The production is Czech and is translated to Valerie a týden divů in its native language. 

The story involves a week in the life of Valerie (Jaroslava Schallerová), a girl on the cusp of womanhood, and the weird sexual thoughts and desires she encounters while blossoming. She encounters witchcraft, vampires, and a bizarre Constable, who wears a mask.

Valerie is raised by the strangest grandmother imaginable (Helena Anýžová), who morphs into other characters named Mother and Redhead. Valerie does not live a boring life.

One poster for the film is of a blooming flower with splotches of blood that can be interpreted as a girl losing her virginity.

To delve much further into the plot than a quick summary would is wasteful, because it doesn’t make much sense.

Such activities as Valerie’s grandmother making a pact with vampires to keep her young forever, Valerie lying in a coffin surrounded by rotten apples, being burned at the stake, and finally being followed and menaced by her priest are a few of the shenanigans the film presents.

This is shrouded by some of the loveliest photography and scenery you’ve ever seen.

The creativity and experimental nature of Valerie and Her Week of Wonders will allure an open-eyed viewer seeking something left-of-center… very left-of-center.

The story is secondary.

The medieval landscape is gothic and haunting, perfect for evil-doings and strangeness. Not to harp on this point, but the look of Valerie and Her Week of Wonders is the money shot. All else can be left by the sidelines.

The perspective is all Valerie’s, which is nice in an early 1970s feminist way. It feels like Valerie is changing from a girl to a woman and a strong one at that. She is coming into her own after facing and challenging demons. In the mix is a handsome man who titillates Valerie.

I felt like I was emerging into the girl’s subconscious and experiencing her fears and desires alongside her.

Critically speaking, I would have preferred a little more logic and wrap-up, but that’s just me.

Surely, not a realistic interpretation. Was the girl dreaming while asleep or merely delving into fantasy one day? The more I tried to follow the story and put the pieces together like a puzzle, the less it did me any favors.

I then decided to space out and indulge in the other lovelies included. I should have done this from the beginning.

I am unsure how many Czech films I have seen, if any, but Valerie and Her Week of Wonders (1970) is a clear example of what Czech filmmakers can do, and it’s wild what they can come up with.

The mystique is likely multiplied on American audiences, and a viewer used to more formulaic approaches to film. With a desire for more put-together stories and logic, I nonetheless admired this film for the magic and style it offered.

2019 Films, Art, Horror, Independent, Independent Horror, Robert Eggers, Robert Pattinson, Willem Dafoe

The Lighthouse-2019

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The Lighthouse-2019

Director Robert Eggers

Starring Robert Pattinson, Willem Dafoe

Scott’s Review #987

Reviewed February 5, 2020

Grade: A-

The Lighthouse (2019) is the sophomore effort by acclaimed and novice horror director Robert Eggers.

His first film, The Witch (2015), garnered praise and independent film award nominations, and his latest offering has also received numerous accolades across the board.

This time around, he wisely secures top-notch talent, casting the incredible Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson to star.

The result is a well-acted, gorgeously photographed film that is odd beyond belief, requiring a second viewing even to attempt to understand it. The atmosphere of this film will draw some viewers in and push away others. It is that type of film experience.

Shot in startlingly good black and white, the time is the 1890s, set somewhere off New England.

The film stars Dafoe and Pattinson as two lighthouse keepers who start to lose their sanity when a storm strands them on the remote island where they are stationed. They spar, love, and play games, while imaginations run wild with bizarre images of mermaids, death, and claustrophobic storm conditions.

Frequent hallucinations render the plot unclear of what is fantasy and what is reality.

The technical aspects of The Lighthouse are superior to the story elements.

The gorgeous camera work, looking like either a modern film or a film from the 1940s, is superior. Seldom is a film made like this, and the black and white filming provides a cold and bleak atmosphere.

The prevalent wind and driving rain are buffeted by flying objects and mud, creating a looming and foreboding danger. The viewer can tell that sinister events are on the horizon, perfectly encrusting the increasingly dangerous storm.

The story is harrowing to figure out, with the exception that one or both men are losing their minds. Winslow (Pattinson) is the newbie, sent to assist the elder lighthouse keeper, the elderly and cranky Thomas Wake (Dafoe).

Wake forbids Winslow to ever set foot in the lantern room, insisting that the task is his job alone. This piques the interest of the young man, especially when Winslow observes Wake going up to the room at night and stripping naked.

Winslow begins experiencing visions and dreams of tentacles in the Lighthouse, tree stumps floating in the water, and distant images of a mermaid.

Peculiar scenes exist that make The Lighthouse both memorable and challenging to decipher. The presence of seagulls lends the film an authentically beach-like atmosphere, with their cawing and flying around.

Their existence soon becomes an ode to Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds (1963) as a one-eyed gull begins to stalk Winslow.

Told it is bad luck ever to kill a gull since they harbor the souls of sailors, Winslow finally kills the attacking one-eyed gull in a fit of rage during one of the film’s most brutal scenes. Wake seethes with anger.

The film is homoerotic in many scenes, none more so than the lovely scene when the two men begin to dance and sway to the music. About to kiss, reality strikes, and the two drunk men come to blows.

The scene reminds me of an important one in the groundbreaking LGBT masterpiece Brokeback Mountain (2005).

The combustible pent-up masculine tension explodes, and we wonder if in another time the men lovers might be. This aspect is cerebral, filling The Lighthouse with psychological mystique.

A common element is the two men’s distrust of one another. Trapped by the destructive storm, they frequently drink themselves into oblivion- what else is there to do?

They sit and stare at each other, sometimes filled with rage, sometimes suspiciously. In a scene both jaw-dropping and hilarious, Winslow forces Wake into a collar and leash and leads him on his hands and knees into a muddy grave.

Unsure if the scene is fantasy or reality, it could almost be taken from a gay leather porn film.

Eggers has a bright future ahead of him, and I am eager to see his next project. I am not averse to odd or even nonsensical films if the intent is good, but I would recommend a more straightforward approach next time to see what he comes up with.

The Lighthouse (2019) successfully offers a creepy and bizarre tale of men losing their sanity in a dream-like and creative way that will assuredly divide audiences.

Oscar Nominations: Best Cinematography

Independent Spirit Award Nominations: 2 wins- Best Director- Robert Eggers, Best Male Lead- Robert Pattinson, Best Supporting Male-Willem Dafoe (won), Best Cinematography (won), Best Editing

1960 Films, Alida Valli, Art, Georges Franju, Horror, International, International Horror, Italian, Italian Horror, Juliette Mayniel, Pierre Brasseur

Eyes Without a Face-1960

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Eyes Without a Face-1960

Director Georges Franju

Starring Pierre Brasseur, Alida Valli

Scott’s Review #922

Reviewed July 23, 2019

Grade: A

Eyes Without a Face (1960) is a macabre and twisted French-Italian horror film co-written and directed by Georges Franju. It is based on Jean Redon’s novel, which is the same name.

The film cover art (see above) is flawless and terrifying. It induces the creeps by only giving a glimpse, causing the recipient to be curious and attempt to analyze the meaning.

The film is nestled into a short one-hour and thirty-minute package that is time to scare the audience to death with many fantastic and gruesome elements, severely limiting the gore, which only adds to the horrific nature.

Because of its subject matter, the film was highly controversial in 1960 and was subsequently either loved or reviled by its audiences.

Eyes Without a Face is riveting because the audience empathizes with the characters and takes action to correct their wrongs despite the main character’s undeniable crazyness.

The complex emotions of guilt and obsession are commonalities, making it a layered and complex horror film that appears on many Top Ten genre lists.

The film is not for the faint of heart.

Doctor Genessier (Pierre Brassier) is a brilliant and successful physician who specializes in plastic surgery. After a vicious car accident that he is to blame for, he attempts to repair the ruined face of his daughter, Christiane (Edith Scob), a victim of the wreck.

But his plan to give his daughter her looks back involves kidnapping young girls and removing their faces. He is aided in his machinations by his assistant, Louise (Alida Valli), who kidnaps the young woman and helps him in the laboratory, acting as a surrogate mother to Christiane.

Louise aids Génessier partly because he helps restore her damaged face in events before the film begins.

Scob is the stand-out character, containing an innocent and quietly melancholy existence as she is the apparent victim of the story. Her defeated posture, while resiliently hopeful and demure, is complex for an actress to carry, and she defines grace and poise.

Brasseur and Valli each deliver the goods in different ways. Valli, haunting in her best horror effort Suspiria (1977), is mesmerized by her doctor and savior so that the relationship is almost cult-like.

Brasseur is strangely heroic, as he steals lives to save lives, so his character is extraordinarily complex.

The surgery scenes are chilling, featuring white, starchy uniforms worn by a doctor, assistant, and victim. The scenes could almost be mechanical tutorials offered to first-rate medical students with scholarly intentions. If this were not a horror film, the look would be documentary-style.

Genessier calmly cuts an entire circular length of his victim as a hint of blood slowly oozes down the sides of her face in an almost tender fashion.

The film, made in 1960, is not the 1980s slasher film image that encompasses non-horror film-goers’ preconceptions. It has a gorgeous texture.

The best scene occurs when one of Genessier’s victims, lying on a gurney, comes to and gazes at a figure leaning close to her. The camera turns to the figure, revealing a blurry but recognizable image of Christiane sans the face-like mask she usually wears throughout the film.

As the victim shrieks in horror, Christiane slowly backs away from her amid a feeling of pain and heartbreak, remembering how much of a freak she must appear to others. The scene is sad and grotesque at the same time.

Horror films often get bad raps, but poetic and stylized horror films are a diamond in the rough.

Eyes Without a Face (1960) achieves its place in the cinematic archives with brilliant black and white cinematography entrenched in a Gothic, chilling story with characters whose motivations can be dissected and studied long after the film ends.

This keeps the viewer thinking and deserves repeated viewings to capture all the gems it offers.

1959 Films, Art, Best International Film Oscar Winners, Breno Mello, International, International Drama, Marcel Camus, Marpessa Dawn, Portuguese

Black Orpheus-1959

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Black Orpheus-1959

Director Marcel Camus

Starring Breno Mello, Marpessa Dawn

Scott’s Review #689

Reviewed October 8, 2017

Grade: A

Black Orpheus is a 1959 French film made in Brazil, honored with a win in the coveted Best Foreign Language Film Academy Award category in 1960, considered somewhat of a surprise to win.

The film is adapted from the well-known Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. It is now set in Rio de Janeiro during the festive celebration of Carnaval.

Black Orpheus, starring almost all black actors and providing a look at life on the streets of Brazil, is vibrant and filled with lively songs and dances.

The setting is key to the film as the beauty and merriment are mixed with loss and tragedy- loads of exterior shots of Rio de Janeiro flesh out with many shots high atop a hill in a quaint village where all of the characters live most in very close proximity to each other.

Like Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, the film is romantic and lovely, but the story is also mired in jealousy and drama amid the dancing and many celebrations.

Many of the actors, lead Breno Mello and Marpessa Dawn, are non-actors, cast undoubtedly because of their gorgeous, authentic looks. Still, surprisingly, both are phenomenal in their roles and perfectly cast.

Wholesome Eurydice (Dawn) arrives in Rio de Janeiro by trolley driven by Orpheus (Mello), intent on visiting her cousin, Serafina. There is an instant attraction between the young man and the woman as he provides directions to her cousin’s village, which is also his.

Orpheus, however, is engaged to be married to his possessive and demanding fiance, Mira. He is less enthused about the impending marriage and would rather fix his guitar than buy Mira an engagement ring.

As the Carnival festivities get underway, Orpheus and Eurydice give in to their mutual attraction and dance the night away while subsequently trying to avoid the wrath of Mira and avoid a mysterious costumed man who has been stalking Eurydice since she escaped her village and fled to Rio.

Eurydice is terrified that the man may want to kill her, and his motivations are unknown. His character is particularly frightening as he is known as “Death” and dons a tight skeleton costume.

The tragic conclusion, culminating in an incredible chase scene in Orpheus’s trolley station, is fantastic. The morbid ending, based on the legendary Greek tale, is unsurprising. However, the Romeo and Juliet comparisons are still heartbreaking and challenging to experience, most notably the final scene atop a cliff.

The scene is shocking and brutal as the lovelorn couple topples down a hill together at the hands of another central character. However, as they are intertwined in each other’s arms, the scene is also gorgeous and a confirmation of true love and artistic beauty.

Some accusations of racial stereotypes within this film have abounded over the years, mainly the depiction of Brazil being inhabited by party-going, sex-crazed people.

I find the film a masterpiece and the type of cinematic experience to be enjoyed rather than over-analyzed.

The almost nonstop musical score created by Luiz Bonfa and Antonio Carlos Jobim is to die for and is an enormous part of what makes the film so engaging and entertaining.

Perfectly capturing the spirit of a jovial, cultural environment, Black Orpheus (1959) spins a riveting, heartbreaking tale of love amid a musical.

Tragedy, art, true love, romance, and death are all elements captured in this excellent film.

Oscar Nominations: 1 win-Best Foreign Language Film (won)

1969 Films, Alan Bates, Alan Webb, Art, Catherine Willmer, Drama, Eleanor Bron, Glenda Jackson, Jennie Linden, Ken Russell, Oliver Reed, Romantic Drama

Women in Love-1969

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Women in Love-1969

Director Ken Russell

Starring Glenda Jackson, Jennie Linden

Scott’s Review #553

Reviewed December 20, 2016

Grade: A

Women in Love is a shamefully, by and large, forgotten gem- except for the obscure cinema lover- made in 1969.

The film is a British art film and is way ahead of its time. Despite the title, it is anything but a romantic comedy- quite dark in content. The film is adapted from a D.H. Lawrence novel of the same name.

The story is of two sisters, Gudrun and Ursula, living in a small mining town. They gather for a friend’s wedding, and each becomes enamored of a member of the wedding party.

Later, at a swanky dinner party, the girls meet the men. The film tells of the sisters’ relationships with each of the men (played by Alan Bates and Oliver Reed) and of the men’s relationship with each other.

All of the relationships are very complex and filled with tender emotion, and some are pretty violent.

Women in Love is one of the first films to feature extensive nudity, but not in a gratuitous way.

The film explores themes of love, hatred, and the trials and tribulations of the English upper class. The film is a love of mine because it is character-driven, told from each character’s perspective, and is quite an intense experience.

Glenda Jackson won the 1970 Best Actress Oscar- deservedly so.

Oscar Nominations: 1 win-Best Director-Ken Russell, Best Actress-Glenda Jackson (won), Best Screenplay Based on Material from Another Medium, Best Cinematography

2015 Films, Antonio Bolívar, Art, Ciro Guerra, Drama, International, International Drama, Nilbio Torres, Spanish

Embrace of the Serpent-2015

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Embrace of the Serpent-2015

Director Ciro Guerra

Starring Nilbio Torres, Antonio Bolivar

Scott’s Review #524

80060032

Reviewed November 23, 2016

Grade: B+

Embrace of the Serpent (2015) is a cerebral experience of complex storytelling, weaving two parallel stories set forty years apart.

It is an immensely creative film crafting a black-and-white cinematic expressionism into its lurid walls.

Admittedly I found the stories tough to follow at times, and the film contains an impressionistic quality, but I knew I was watching something creative and brave.

That is worthy of a hefty thumbs up.

The setting is the Amazon jungle, along the vast Amazon River, deep in the heart of South America. The periods are 1909 and 1940, and both feature an Amazonian shaman who is the very last of his people and very resentful of white men.

In 1909, he traveled with a dying German scientist and in 1940, an American.

Both are looking for a sacred healing plant, which contains magical powers.

The parallel stories both feature a Spanish Catholic Mission by the side of an Amazon tributary.

In 1909, the leading priest was sadistic and abusive towards the young boys in his charge. Years later, the young boys are now hardened and grizzled. Both stories also feature the revelation of the plant, though in different ways and with vastly different outcomes.

The best part, much better than the storyline, is the use of black-and-white visuals. This gives the film a mysterious, old-world vibe that makes it feel like a film made in the 1940s, if not earlier.

In this way, it makes Embrace of the Serpent a visual spectacle, especially as countless scenes occur along the Amazon- we see the characters float, via canoe, and are treated to the beauty of the water and the surrounding luscious mountains.

It appears other-worldly, a part of the remote continent that few see or appreciate.

This is my favorite aspect of the film.

The stories are complex, sometimes not making complete sense, and I found myself a bit confused throughout, but this may have been due to the film’s clear art film persona, leading the film to be open to interpretation.

Both white men have different experiences with the sought-after plant.

I was left with some questions even having read the synopsis. One of the men has a dreamy, hallucinating experience with the magical plant, but what happens after?

The shaman is an interesting character as we see him as a young man and an old man, living as a lonely, resentful man.

Embrace of the Serpent (2015) is a perplexing, interpretative film, containing a magical quality and, if the story is muddy, one can whisk away to a fantastic experience just watching and enjoying the cinematic treats offered.

Oscar Nominations: Best Foreign Language Film

Independent Spirit Award Nominations: Best International Film

1967 Films, Art, Catherine Deneuve, Drama, French, International, International Drama, Jean Sorel, Luis Buñuel, Michel Piccoli, Pierre Clémenti

Belle De Jour-1967

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Belle De Jour-1967

Director Luis Buñuel

Starring Catherine Deneuve, Jean Sorel

Scott’s Review #486

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Reviewed September 29, 2016

Grade: A

Belle De Jour, the title translates to “lady of the day”, a French pun for “lady of the night”, a kind phrase for prostitution, is a fantastic art film.

Stylish, sophisticated, and open to interpretation (at least in my opinion), Belle De Jour is a late 1960s journey into eroticism, social norms, and sexual freedom.

Gorgeous star Catherine Deneuve has never looked better and calmly does mental conflict.

Luis Buñuel directs the film.

Severine is a wealthy, young, newlywed who seemingly has it all. She is showered with love and affection, not to mention material items, by her handsome hubby, Pierre, played by dashing Jean Sorel.

She wants for nothing as her husband is a doctor of great wealth. Yet she is unhappy and refuses to have physical relations with Pierre.

She begins a secret life as a prostitute in a posh home, only working in the afternoons, to avoid being found out. She has no regrets but is apprehensive about the clients she meets.

Throughout the film, Severine has secret fantasies about being kept in bondage and enduring various other sexual humiliations. All the while, the question is, “Is this all Severine’s fantasy or reality?”  Or perhaps merely a portion is.

The audience wonders.

Do we feel sorry for the character of Severine? Not. One could argue that she is spoiled and selfish, but she is not evil; she is somewhat confused. She is quite polite, and Deneuve fills her with kindness and even an angelic spirit.

One cannot despise her, even though on the surface one might be tempted to. What right does this woman have to rebuff her husband in place of sleazy clients? One particularly volatile client becomes obsessed with Severine and stalks her, going so far as to exact violence against her husband.

But wait, is this Severine’s fantasy or reality? Is she imagining everything and merely obediently waiting at home for her husband to return each day, or is she living this life?

Buñuel uses many shots of gorgeous Paris, including the famed Arc de Triomphe and other interesting streets and sights, which is a treat for culture fans. The use of these exteriors goes a long way to ensure that the film is clearly “French” from a visual perspective.

Indeed, in 1967, the sexual revolution was in full swing, and Belle De Jour epitomized the revolution of the times. Yet, it does not feel dated or reduced to a film “of its time”.

I find it more of a character study than a genre film, as Severine is an interesting study.

Belle De Jour challenges the viewer with an intense yet subtle story of a woman conflicted with sexual desire and repression- a film open to much interpretation and discussion.

It does what an art film is supposed to do- makes us think and ponder.