"Kind of like watching paint dry"

Gene Hackman in the film Night Moves (Arthur Penn 1975) famously said watching an Éric Rohmer film is “kind of like watching paint dry.” I burst out laughing. Since I know Rohmer is not everyone’s cup of tea or even espresso, quite the opposite! But I have long loved Rohmer’s films. What do people dislike/hate about a Rohmer film? It’s static, slow-moving quality, the focus on characters’ quotidian activities, the subtleties in plot (if there is one), characters’ obsessions, and contradictions, even foolishness. But those are exactly why I love his films. In the hands of many another director these techniques wouldn’t work; I’d probably fall asleep at the first instant. But with Rohmer we’re dealing with a master who captures the way human beings really are in their daily lives. Travelling on a train, meeting a friend for lunch, a family gathering in the countryside, all are rich experiences so long as the director enables the subject matter to emit the intricate personality traits, psychological conundrums and romantic desires that may or may not be requited. Yes, these are “talky” films with scenes going on some time, say, between two characters, as they gabble on about their careers, loves, aspirations and everyday existence. But isn’t that how you spend your days? Perhaps it’s also the type of characters depicted. They’re almost universally young, college-educated and middle class, something I can identify with and which takes me back to many a college day or night sitting around and, well, just talking. Rohmer was one of the great French New Wave directors along with Jean-Luc Godard, Claude Chabrol and François Truffaut. He was definitely an eccentric, highly secretive and hated modernism, denouncing, for example, automobiles which he refused to travel in. So you can see how he would focus to the extreme on subtle details, on the seeming nothingness of daily existence which ultimately adds up to life’s fabric, which we all experience. For starters I’d suggest his Four Seasons films (a scene from A Tale of Springtime above) and then some from his Comedies and Proverbs series, which seem to have influenced a director like Woody Allen. His most famous film is Claire's Knee, about a man obsessed with, yes, a woman's knee. Check him out and you’ll either love it or throw something at your screen (don’t break it) in disgust.

Montreal's Cinéma du Parc is a very special experience

For as long as my adult filmgoing experience can remember I have attended Cinéma du Parc in Montreal. It is perhaps the city’s oldest art house cinema and home to screenings at numerous festivals in the five decades since it open in 1976. I like the whole experience. Located in the bowels of a small shopping mall within a complex of three adjoining residential towers (which I now count as my temporary home when in Montreal) the cinema also has a neat vibe. Entering from Av du Parc on Montreal’s downtown eastern fringe, in the McGill University student ghetto, you walk down a few short flights of stairs into a subterranean world of cafes, restaurants, stores, a large organic grocery store and regular grocery. (For tenants, one need never leave the building!). The cinema features three cinemas and I was surprised to learn it was the first multi-screen theatre in the city. Some of my fondest memories include regular rendezvouses there with a longtime Montreal cinephile friend, whom I first met more than 20 years ago waiting in line at Montreal’s then and now defunct world film festival (Festival des films du monde). Or watching famed British director Peter Greenaway get out of a taxi in front of the building for a screening of one of his metaphysical films at the city’s alternative Festival du nouveau cinema. Or remembering the words of a cinema usher as he flung open the doors to an eager crowd for the Montreal premier of French enfant terrible director Gaspar Noé’s 2009 film Enter the Void. “You are now about to, well, ‘enter the void!’ he shouted enthusiastically. Over the past decade the non-profit has come under the management of Mario Fortin, who also managed the city’s Cinéma Beaubien. And the two theaters plus Cinéma du Musée, located at the city’s fine arts museum further downtown – all of which feature international, Québécois and independent films – are marketed together. There are a great many independent cinemas in different cities I have attended and admired over the years. But as a native Montrealer and frequent visitor back to the city, Cinéma du Parc holds a special place in my heart.

The maestro of your filmgoing life

It’s not often that I will sit through a foreign film, sans sous-titles - for almost three hours. But that was the case with the recent screening in Montreal of Ennio: The Maestro, about the movie music composer that has probably had more impact on the filmgoing experience – scratch that, has had – than any other musician over the past half century. Outside the rarefied world of cineastes (ha), however, the vast majority of people wouldn’t recognize his name. But you certainly recognize the music. Ennio Morrione made his mark with the Sergio Leone’s so-called "Spaghetti Westerns" of the 1970s, starring of course Clint Eastwood. When you hear the song The Good The Bad and the Ugly – also the film name – that music is indelibly Morricone’s. But he composed music for a whole swath of films that created a sound backdrop that in many ways was just as dramatic or more so than the visuals on the screen. The documentary Ennio: The Maestro by Giuseppe Tornatore is a superb portrayal of this genius, who died in 2020, with numerous interviews with composers around the world as well as filmmakers like Eastwood, Quentin Tarantino, Bernardo Bertolucci and musicians like Pat Methany and Bruce Springsteen. From Once Upon a Time in the West to The Mission, Cinema Paradiso to The Battle of Algiers, even The Thing and Bugsy,  Merricone’s unique musical stamp will unmistakably catch your ears, a character in its own right. And sitting through three hours of Italian with French sub-titles? Not a problem. Just let this scintillating music wash over you.

A nice little film I also caught in Montreal is Kelly Reichardt’s Showing Up starring Michelle Williams and Judd Hirsch. There aren’t a lot of films about artists – the visual kind who paint or make sculptures – and this one delves into a fictional artist colony in uber artsy Portland (satirically "Portlandia") Oregon. But this is a soap opera of sorts, and the artists are often frenemies, praising each other’s work as they vie for exhibition space, and encountering such daily frustrations as not having hot water in their apartments. The film's at times humorous and moving and the art is great.

The Eight Mountains is another set-in-Italy production by Felix van Groeningen and Charlotte Vandermeersch, based on a book by Paolo Cognetti. It takes place in the Italian Alps between the 1980s and present. But the film’s title is not about those mountains, but a Buddhist phrase about life’s accomplishments. The story follows Pietro and Bruno, who meet as kids on vacation in the Alps. Pietro is a city boy and Bruno, who grew up in the mountains, shows him the rugged mountain ways. But a major plot twist occurs regarding their upbringing, which has a kind of reverse outcome. Later, as adults, Pietro (Andrea Palma) and Bruno (Francesco Palombelli) rekindle their friendship but have obviously gone different paths. Bruno maintains, somewhat stubbornly, his rural roots. Pietro is now trying to make his way as a writer. This is a quiet character-driven film with exceptional scenery, some of which must have been extremely difficult to shoot as scenes take place on mountain ridges and glaciers. Perhaps a tad long but it’s an honest look at friendship and what bonds people together.