Chase's everyman a comic delight, and hi-def's loss of mystique

I tuned into CNN's I'm Chevy Chase and You're Not much hyped doc last night. Usually I don't get sucked into hype but I have a genuine interest in Chevy Chase going back to the first iteration of SNL characters. I never realized what an over the top outrageous guy (some have used other terms) in real life he was/is. Hard to believe he's now 82 and looks every bit it. What was almost as interesting was watching interviews with seminal characters in his rise to fame and how they have aged along with him, like Goldie Hawn (still looking pretty good) and SNL producer Lorne Michaels (who looks as aged as Chase) and how so many look a respectable "older person" as opposed to their hairy hippyish 70s versions. Regardless, on screen, there was always something uproariously funny and everyman about Chase's characters as per European Vacation (Amy Heckerling, 1985), Christmas Vacation (Jeremiah Chechik, 1898) or Caddyshack (Harold Ramis, 1980). He's one of those comedians I'll never get tired of watching.

I'm not sure if I like hi-definition video. I have been watching Turner Classic Movies (TCM) on an advanced/contemporary TV during my vacation stay (or "advanced" to me since I don't have TV at home) and the experience is somewhat jarring. I'm simply not comfortable with it. Sure the video is clearer - much clearer - almost like being on the set of the film shoot with the camera crew all around me. There is Joan Crawford as Mildred Pierce (in Michael Curtiz's 1945 Mildred Pierce) walking out of a living room with her dead lover (Zachary Scott as Monte Beragon) sprawled on the floor - a little too close for comfort. Or Orson Welles as John Foster Kane (in Welles's 1941 Citizen Kane, photo above) marching into the city room of the New York Inquirer about to turn the staid newspaper into an exuberant journalistic force to be reckoned with. Whoa, I'm loving the scene but a little distance please! Or Anthony Newley's Charlie Blake making clumsy romantic overtures to Sandy Dennis's Sara Deever in the original version of Sweet November (Robert Ellis Miller, 1968). Don't get me wrong, it's astonishing that movies can be shown this clearly. Hi-definition technically refers to at least 480 vertical scan lines compared to standard definition or analogue viewing. It reminds me of video from some early-1960s television shows which also had a higher - or clearer - look to them and which to me are too realistic. Interestingly, when we see movies on the big screen in theatres, despite digital projection, the result is still the same as it's always been, a kind of "distance" between viewer and action. Perhaps it's simply what I'm used to, but by being so absolutely intrusive, hi-def takes away a certain mystique. 

Another Knives Out: is there something I'm missing?

 

I may not be the sharpest pencil in the pack but every once in a while, a movie comes along that utterly befuddles me. A few come to mind: The Maltese Falcon (John Huston 1941), Gosford Park (Robert Altman 2001) and the Knives Out series of movies, all directed and written by Rian Johnson, the latest being Wake Up Dead Man (after a two-week theatrical release it's on Netflix beginning today). I caught it last week in London UK in a very pleasant Curzon chain theatre, where they serve food and beverages at your seat. Since I never fully got the plot of the only other Knives Out film I’ve seen, 2022’s Glass Onion (the second in the series), I didn’t have high expectations for this. Who knows – all this might just be above my brain level. And I was right - I didn’t get it. Or, I kind of did. But, come on, another convoluted and almost ridiculous plot just like Glass Onion? Maybe I’m just not a murder mystery buff but at least in Agatha Christie or Alfred Hitchcock you can follow the plot. Of course, I won’t go into detail here. But I also notice in the four or five reviews I’ve read of the movie - all by reviewers who loved it – no once delves into the plot either, and I don’t think it’s because they want to give it away. Sure, we like twists and turns. But with Johnson we have twists, turns, dead ends, cul de sacs and both one- and two-way streets. Again, maybe I’m just not bright enough. Or maybe I was just bored and turned off. But why can’t a movie be a whodunnit without all the minutiae of details? Here’s the basic outline. The story takes place in a Catholic church. There are several generations of priests. There is a valuable inheritance. Of course, the plot pivots around a mistaken perpetrator, par for the murder mystery course. Forget the convolutions, the story itself isn’t interesting, and why all this effort to solve an exceedingly unreal scenario? Daniel Craig, as always, is southern detective Benoit Blanc, and he does a good job (so funny watching his transition from James Bond). Josh O’Connor, the central character, is Rev. Jud Duplenticy (duplicitous?). It was also nice seeing an (appropriately) aged Glenn Close as Martha, the priests’ assistant. Jeremy Renner takes a turn as the good doctor Nat Sharp.  Josh Brolin has a central role as a vulgar priest. The other question I have about this film is its context: the Catholic church. The film doesn’t exactly assault Roman Catholicism but uses its symbols (the crucifix, the confessional, a corrupt clergyman) as props. Popular culture has long derided the church, from Tom Lehrer’s The Vatican Rag, to Pope on a Rope to even calling the pope’s vehicle the Popemobile. I was brought up Catholic and I guess I’m not offended. But what other religion have you seen so mocked?

And congrats to the Windsor International Film Festival (WIFF) for breaking another attendance record this fall, more than 50,000 tickets sold. The festival indeed is on track not only to become one of the country's premier regional festivals but a distinct destination-oriented festival for cinephiles far and wide, similar, say, to Sundance. And its gravitas grows as it draw film professionals from across the country and abroad. In its now 20th year it's more than the little festival that could, screening 231 features, 141 films from leading world film fests, more than 60 francophone films and 25 local ones. It's a genuine Windsor success story, and increasingly a Canadian one as well. 

You want a good film? I give you Truffaut's The Soft Skin

My interest in films is waning (May 19 post). Is it my declining attention span or are movies more mediocre? Or is it because I’ve seen so many that I’m jaded? I read about the accolades for Joachim Trier’s Sentimental Value (which won the Cannes’ Grand Prix and has large Oscar potential) or Bong Joon Ho’s 2019 Parasite (Oscar for Best Picture and the Cannes’ Palme d'Or; 99% on Rotten Tomatoes). Trier’s film while interesting was overly long and sentimental. Ho’s was a complete bore and I stopped watching after 45 minutes. What, I kept asking myself, is so good about this story of a poor family running amok at a rich family’s designer home? Ah, said a critic this weekend on NPR, the “social” message of the poor eating the rich. He rated it, of course, his number one film. Yes, yes but…that’ s a social message, I want a cinematic message. Occasionally, however, in these gray days for film, I come across one that reinvigorates and shows what the medium is capable of. I give you Francois Truffaut’s 1964 The Soft Skin (part of Criterion Channel's French New Wave 'Now Playing' series) I’d seen this movie before, loved it, but didn’t want to watch again because of its (spoiler alert) tragic ending. Only the ending differed from what I remembered though no less disconsolate. And a bonus: it stars Françoise Dorléac, Catherine Deneuve’s older sister, a rising star in her own right who died tragically in a car crash in 1967. The film is about an affair. Here’s what’s great about it. The subtlety of the story captures the psychological tension of the players vis-a-vis the married couple (Jean Desailly and Nelly Benedetti as Pierre and Franca Lachenay) and the mistress (Nicole, played by Dorléac). In other words, it’s easy to see how unexpected mutual attraction can lead to immersive love eviscerating a mundane marriage. So, in portraying this interpersonal dynamic the film excels, from the camera capturing furtive eye contact to initial awkward gestures. But more than the personal story the film – as a film – makes for captivating viewing. Because Truffaut never lets your interest wane. Even in the most pedestrian moments – driving in a car, riding an elevator – the camera locks on to otherwise nondescript elements (a dashboard panel, numbers of the passing floors), that serve as punctuation marks that keep the momentum flowing. Another example: instead of a stereotyped shot of an airliner the camera is in the cockpit as the plane lands. In other words, every scene is fresh and different and therefore counts and glues the whole thing together. Which is, folks, the sign of brilliant filmmaking. 

Cleanup in aisle five, and more

Sometimes a film comes along that is both delightful and innovative, seeming to break the mold of movie plots. Such is the case with the 1996 Japanese film Supermarket Woman directed by Juzo Itami. I caught it bored one night and with all else failing tuned to Criterion Channel’s relatively new 24/7 on which their curators screen films round the clock, similar to Turner Classic Movies (TCM). Only there’s more mystery to these as Criterion doesn’t give a title; you have to look it up on a separate website and then do your own research. What was wonderful about Supermarket Woman is it’s a film about a subject few directors would have ever thought about – daily life in a supermarket. You mean “clean up in aisle five?” Yes and more, much more. Itami has taken this most plebian of subjects and added an intriguing plot, fantastic characters, quick pace and hypnotic score and created a movie that not only is absolutely fun to watch but has a lot to say about personal relationships, working for “the man”, standing up for yourself, and personal and business integrity. The star is none other than Nobuko Miyamoto (now deceased Itami’s wife), a whirling dervish of an actress who plays a similar role here. The plot is simple. Hanoko (Miyamoto) runs into an old school friend who now runs a supermarket. She’s a housewife who’s a canny consumer. He’s manager of a store that’s failing. She offers some basic tips – everything from how products are shelved to advertised sales. He hires her on the spot and, like Charles Foster Kane in Citizen Kane as newspaper publisher, she turns the grocery store upside down in finding efficiencies and ways to grow sales and fend off acquisition to an inferior rival chain. But no authoritarian manager she. Rather her talent lies in good naturedly improving logical floor practices and challenging the old guard's “how it’s always been done” thinking, not least sticking up for employees bullied by other staff (the butchers are the main culprits). The pixie-like Hanako literally creates a whirlwind through the store’s aisles, resulting in a transformation that delights skeptical bosses and employees alike, for whom she’s a hero. This is altogether an exhilarating and comedic drama. Whoever thought a movie about a supermarket could be so much fun?

At WIFF - when an audience doesn't get a film

What happens when an audience doesn’t “get” a film? You have what happened last night – the final night and one of the last screened films – at the Windsor International Film Festival (WIFF), If I Had Legs I’d Kick You (Mary Bronstein, who stars as Dr. Spring). The Chrysler Theatre was two-thirds full and sometime after the film started various laughs could be heard, quite inappropriately I thought, for very dramatic moments in the film. This went on continually for the picture’s entire length, in some cases huge guffaws at otherwise poignant, heartfelt and searing moments. One guy near the front was continually guffawing. A woman a few rows back couldn’t contain her laughter. I couldn’t understand it and the constant tittering became annoying. If I was near one of them, I wanted to admonish “don’t you understand this is a serious moment!?” The plot: Linda (Rose Byrne), ironically a therapist, is dealing with an overload of family problems – a sick daughter hooked to an IV, a “mansplaining” husband (Christian Slater) away on a business trip and not facing familial problems, an apartment roof that crashes in forcing mom and daughter into temporary motel quarters. It’s quite apparent that Linda can’t bear this alone and is emotionally coming apart at the seams. Even her therapist (Conan O’Brien) doesn’t understand. It’s Diary of a Mad Housewife (Frank Perry 1970) brought up to date. Yet at various turns in the movie, which were not comedic at all, a good number of audience members laughed or giggled, apparently oblivious to the nature of the scenes before them. I’m not quite sure why this was. I have my theories. Many audience members are only used to “Hollywood” films or comedies and confronted with a more intense probe into the human condition, can’t grasp it or default into thinking it just has to be comedic. Another is simply not believing what they’re seeing in front of them – of course someone can’t be suffering as badly as that, strangely unaware that countless women undergo these problems every day. Another is simply not having an ability to understand something more complex. One idiot after the film let out a huge “hoot” to mock what he saw. This is the first time in all the years I’ve attended the festival that I’ve witnessed this kind of audience reaction. Not very sophisticated or even smart, folks.  

If this audience didn’t get If I Had Legs…what would they have done with a film like Marianne (Michael Rozek) – slit their throats? For not only is this an hour and a half monologue by one actress on her living room couch and talking directly into the camera, it deals with themes that, shall we say, are a little complex? And ironically, mocks the very type of films those audience members would probably love. When I saw the actress was Isabelle Huppert, my favorite working today, I of course jumped at seeing it. But admittedly it is difficult and the urge to turn one’s mind off during the first half hour is strong. But if you hang in there it has some rewards and is certainly a film I thought about afterwards. The character (Huppert) is eviscerating the current state of movie making – vapid escapism for boffo box office returns - and at one point tells the audience – attention laughers at If I had Legs... - to “wake up!” 

I also caught famed director (Z, The Confession, Missing) Costa-Gavras’s Last Breath. I had been expecting a straight up philosophical discussion among characters about the subject of death, something rarely addressed in popular media, reminiscent of a film like My Dinner with Andre (Louis Malle 1981). In fact, this is a drama about a philosopher, Fabrice Toussaint (Denis Podalydès) and a palliative care doctor (Kad Merad) and his team caring for patients literally on their death beds.  Toussaint follows the doctor on his rounds gathering material for a book but leading him to confront his own future. I won’t say the film was scintillating but it competently depicted a slice of life - or end of life – that is rarely shown, especially as all of us are aging.

I was interested in watching Kristin Scott Thomas’s My Mother’s Wedding if only because I’ve been a big fan of KST and wanted to see what she could do behind the camera in her directorial debut. In fact, she’s also the “mother” in the film. Other appealing cast were Scarlett Johansson, Sienna Miller and Emily Beecham. But the story is less about the mother than the daughters – one in particular – and wasn’t much different from umpteen “chick flicks” about mother-daughter relationships replete with laughter, whimsy and drama, albeit set in the beautiful English countryside. The audience was 90 per cent women.

At WIFF: Amherstburg radio doc a standout

My fave movie so far at the Windsor International Film Festival is Gavin Michael Booth’s Radio Renaissance: Amherstburg’s New Wave, a documentary about the creation of CKBG FM 107.9 in little old Amherstburg.  The doc is a passion project by an A’burg native about the dream and sometimes arduous process of applying for a license for the small-town station, a rarity in this age of media cutbacks and station closings. It was the dream of local radio & TV personality Marty Adler (now sadly deceased) and hit the airwaves in July 2023. Booth’s doc is a comprehensive and well-edited film, interviewing the key radio station players and capturing the town’s ambience, depicted as a friendly closely knit historical place where a radio station can only help enhance community. It’s too bad the film is only being screened once…..Meanwhile I also liked Jim Jarmusch’s Father Mother Sister Brother. I’ve long been a Jarmusch fan, one of the key innovators in the post-1970s American independent film movement. The film has three stories focusing in order on Father, Mother and two siblings. The first features a periodic visit by the estranged children to a grizzled rural recluse. The meeting is awkward if friendly but not everything is quite as it seems. The second has two daughters visiting their mum, again on an annual visit and again in a stilted yet stylized setting which evokes some guffaws. The third has a brother and sister ruminating in an empty apartment about their deceased parents. The cast is stellar: Tom Waits, Adam Driver, Mayim Bialik, Charlotte Rampling and Cate Blanchett among others, and there are fine street scenes of Dublin and Paris. The first two stories are the most interesting if only to follow the self-conscious personal interactions but it’s questionable what the stories all add up to…..Next came Colin Farrell in Edward Berger’s (Conclave, 2024) Ballad of a Small Player. The setting is “the gambling capital of the world” Macau China and Farrell plays a Brit expat at the end of his gambling tether. Other than some spectacular scenes of the city’s forest of skyscrapers and gambling dens, and some great editing of our man on the run, the film is really an embarrassment. Every cliché in the book is thrown at the screen, from the disheveled expat (there are numerous sweaty closeups of Farrell’s face which likely will make many a femme swoon) to shambolic hotel rooms, well-groomed crowded baccarat tables and an obvious if distressed love interest. But it’s all formulaic, stylized even, and we can’t possibly care about the character…..Finally, Norwegian director Joachim Trier’s Sentimental Value. Trier, like Jarmusch, is a director whose films I will always catch. The film could be up for some big Oscars. But while good, I found it slow and even plodding (half an hour could have been chopped off the 133 minutes) – just barely keeping my interest – and ultimately is a sappy story, surprising for Trier, about an estranged father and famed movie director (played by the great Stellan Skarsgård) and his actress daughter (Renate Reinsve). Elle Fanning has a star role as an actress both as a character in the film and obviously in the film’s cast.....The 11-day Windsor International Film Festival began Oct. 23 and runs until Nov. 2. Go to https://windsorfilmfestival.com/

Richard Linklater's masterpieces

Richard Linklater has come a long way from Slacker (1990) and Dazed and Confused (1993) – films admittedly that caught the zeitgeist of a certain youth subculture of a certain era but, direction-wise, unrecognizable from his latest two films, Blue Moon and Nouvelle Vague (the latter showing at this year’s WIFF). I caught both back-to-back last weekend at Montreal’s Festival du Nouveau Cinema, and they blew me away. Linklater has been “maturing” since those so-Nineties subculture entries in the Before trilogy (with Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy) and Waking Life (2001). But none of these can prepare someone for Blue Moon and Nouvelle Vague. First, Blue Moon. This “portrait” of American Songbook classic lyricist Lorenz Hart is astonishing, mostly due to Hawke himself, though you’d never know it was him. I kept asking myself throughout: who is this performer? The makeup is so astounding Hawke’s entire body structure, beginning with his (balding) head, has been transformed to replicate Hart. Moreover, this is ultimately a one man show, an almost continuing monologue (writer Robert Kaplow) of 100 minutes as the musical icon at turns philosophies, critiques,

ruminates, tells stories and jokes about the Broadway stage, after walking out of former co-songwriter Richard Rodger’s opening night Oklahoma! Lorenz lambastes it as a crass middlebrow production symbolized by an exclamation mark! Is he bitter? Yes, but also reflective and still high-spirited, as he regales bartender Eddie (Bobby Cannavale) at the famed showbiz bar Sardi’s in March 1943, just months before his death in an alcopholic stupor…..Next up was Linklater’s Nouvelle Vague. Hold on to your hats at this exquisite re-creation of Paris’s New Wave circa 1960. Seemingly a documentary and filmed in grainy black and white so reminiscent of the era, the movie depicts those seminal figures that transformed not just French cinema but world filmmaking – Francois Truffaut, Claude Chabrol, Eric Rohmer, Jacques Rivette, Agnès Varda, etc. – but most of all Jean-Luc Godard - and the making of his first and breakthrough film – a classic and one of the most transformative films in cinematic history, Breathless. Seldom do even the best filmmakers get historical accuracy completely right – there’s always something off about the clothes, hair styles, mannerisms or background street scenes – but Linklater seems to have perfected it…..Two glorious films that I’d say are masterpieces.