Bringing up baby (1938)

I found myself laughing out loud at Bringing up baby (dir. Howard Hawks), a screwball comedy of the hysterical sort, in which people are talking at the same time and everything is a mess. Looking at the story, I am a bit worried: what did I find so funny in this rather sexist movie about how love, in the end, is somehow imbued with repulsion and incomprehensible attraction? And believe me, the image of love presented here is truly wacky, but strangely familiar: the attraction between the two sexes can never be spelled out - it goes beyond social relations and psychological compatibility. Or maybe this is a wrong-headed interpretation? The story begins with a not so happy couple involved in scientific toil, overshadowing their romantic life. The girl wants to dedicate her life to science, not to family life. The man, a humble and disoriented paleontologist (Cary Grant in spectacles, I guess that was supposed to be funny), is on a mission to secure a missing dinosaur bone and a donation - but then this extremely annoying, airheaded girl comes in his way, and in her company is ... a leopard! The girl turns his life into a misery but we know how it will end. - - - The humor in this sizzling film, except for the kind of gags we all know if we have seen a couple of silly comedies in our life, and which are, to be honest, nothing to write home about, is built around Audrey Hepburn's outrageous character - she is excess, she is will power, she is a force of nature. I wonder what Zizek would say about her and this unstoppable film about, you know, desire as a lacuna in the midst of symbolic representations. Or something to that effect. If your nerves handle this movie, you are up for anything.

All about Eve (1950)

Conservative political times - radical films. All about Eve  (Mankiewicz) bustles with dark secrets and surprises - not much physical action takes place, but it is evident that this film beats any modern thriller in terms of suspense. And this is not even a thriller! Eve is a fan who would do anything to meet her favorite actor, whose play she sees every night. The actor's friend takes a liking to the girl and invites her to see Margo, the star. Eve appears to be a modest and decent girl with a tragic history and even the great Margo's heart throbs for the poor girl, who becomes her servant. But Eve has some plans of her own... All about Eve registers the scheming and gossip of the theatre world, and it picks out the most cynical character to narrate the story: the poisonous words of theater critic Addison throw us into this rotten congregation of friends and foes. Bette Davis is brilliant as Margo, the star, the pro, the diva - unruly and foul-mouthed. Everything, down to the smallest gesture is Grand. A cloud of smoke surrounds her and nobody bitches the way she does: '....I hate men.' It's hard to know whether one should love or hate Margo, whose position is threatened by the mousy, innocent-looking girl. And Margo knows how to strike back. The character of Eve might not be believable all the way, but it is interesting to see her face change as she transforms into (is revealed as) a ... sociopath. -- What I love about All about Eve is that it is a women's film in the best sense of the word. Women are the main characters; interesting, complex, tough. The guys remain in the background, props for the real drama acted out among these brutal ladies. Where women are mostly reduced to objects of desire on the big screen, in this movie the two leading ladies rebel against the notions of what a good woman should be. And when it comes to romance this is a rare film as it is so utterly uninterested in sex - sex is portrayed as a boring means to an end kind of thing. Another reason to adore this movie is the snappy dialogue that slashes first and thinks afterward; rarely have I seen such a funny account of the pungent relations of the theater elite. Sometimes films about actors become much to navel-gazing and meta, but this film doesn't, I think, have that problem because it is EXTREMELY navel-gazing! Even though one might complain that it is messy and that it centers too much around being clever, this film is dazzling enough to keep this viewer fascinated. 

My beast friend (2006)

An antiques dealer makes a bet with his colleague that he has a friend. This is something the colleage has every reason to doubt, as the man is a craggy personality, a social catastrophy, who doesn't seem to care about other people. But of course he does, at heart. He meets the cabdriver Bruno on whose services he relies - but friendship is no service. My beast friend may be a pretty predictable feel-good film about the value of friendship but at least Daniel Auteuil makes a decent performance as Francois, a man who is completely blind in relation to himself. The problem with this kind of movie is that it sugarcoats something that is a real tragedy in human life: loneliness and the attempt to get away from it. One can also say that it is a laudable thing that a film delves into the theme of friendship: what is it to 'get' friends? What does one mean when one says that one has lots of friends? The film doesn't really dig deep, instead opting for the usual complication-solution route. The moral of the film is a heartwarming message: you cannot acquisit friends like you buy a vase. If one chose to interpret the film charitably, one could say it is about the eternal philosophical question on whether virtue can be taught or whether virtuous behavior is some different kind of quality. Bruno, the cab driver, tries to teach Francois some important lessons about life, what it means to attend to another human being. Can anybody teach somebody that? (It seems this kind of language would fit the film.)

The dark knight rises (2012)

I rarely go to the movies. When I do, I am entertained by watching moving images. The Dark Knight Rises (dir. Christopher Nolan) is one of the worst films I've seen in a long time. Of course, Batman is all about the brand, and the brand has to live on. I have never been fascinated by superheroes (beyond watching this TV series about a girl who could speak to stuffed animals) and watching Batman, I am reminded of why this is so. Superhero movies try eagerly and pompously to flatter us, titillating us into believing that the world will not go to hell even though everything looks that way. The world - must be saved and We can Do it. These movies buy into the old worn-out idea that anything is possible and that deep inside some of us, awesome powers are hidden that can change History forever. And so on and so forth. ZzZz. In this movie, we even have a sad-eyed and traumatized superhero with no cartilage in his knee. His enemy is a grunting Wrestling type in a silly mask. Tim Burton's Batman-movies were bearable because of his sense for the Bad and Evil city. In this film, we see the familiar skyline that sends shivers down our spines simply because of ugly associations*. Five orchestras playing on top of each other create a thundering sound that is supposed to 'add some drama' (one of the more successful scenes is a quieter one: a small boy's high-pitched voice singing star spangled banner as the soundtrack to gruesome things going on underground). The actors have been given lines so cheesy that it is a miracle of human nature that they can go through with delivering them without breaking into a big laugh. In the silliest scenes I've seen in a long time, Batman and his Nemesis punch each other in the face, trying hard to make it look like ... well, something that one should take bloody seriously. I try to say something redeeming about The Dark Knight Rises but this would be a distortion of reality and a misuse of language, so I end with a word of warning: do not watch this. Okay, there was something I liked: Albert. I agree with the Guardian reviewer who calls the film a children's fancy-dress party scripted by Wagner.

* The horror portrayed in this Batman film is very much dependent on the real horror of 9/11 and economic crises. Rather than seeing this as a factor that makes the film relevant, I feel it exploits this kind of background, blinding us to tragedy and the unique human life. Here, humans are divided into superheroes and the ordinary people, more or less trampled down by the sinister forces of history.

Two-lane blacktop (1971)

OK - I confess. Some road movies make me fall in love with the US and A. This is not the real country of course, but the places you see in precisely this kind of movie (from the early seventies): dingy gas stations, sleazy cafés, a thousand different landscapes. Two-lane blacktop (Monte Hellman) is, among other things, about racing cars. But don't think you and your popcorn are in for an adrenaline-kicking movie in the style of The Fast and the Furious. This is ... slow stuff, contemplative stuff - the cars may move quickly, but the film does not - and it works. A meditative little film about racing cars; genius, I tell you. I hadn't seen any of Hellman's films before, so I didn't know what to expect. One could perhaps compare it to a similarly macho movie which is just as slow: The family, starring Charles Bronson. Two-lane blacktop starts with a racing scene and ends with one as well. In between we see two guys in a car. Suddenly a girl gets into the car. We don't know her name, and nobody else's either. They hook up with a strange man, challening him to race, cross-contry. People talk in short sentences and everybody seem to hold a grudge against everybody. Drifters & dreamers - boredom mostly, and lonely folk who pick up hitch-hikers. Atmosphere: passive-aggressive, bad vibes in the air. Meanwhile: the gang is talking about spare parts. The strange man and a hitch-hiker listen to a Western song on the cassette player. The youngsters have burgers in a sleazy diner on the wall of which a sign says: no dancing. The girl is learning how to drive a car but that doesn't happen. The girl looks at others. Nobody seems to really bother about the race and who wins it. Instead, they help each other out. One of the racers falls asleep while messing with a car. Early morning. They talk to local people and the local people make sure that they are not hippies. No, hometown boys. You like Americana? Go watch this.  - - Watch out for Harry Dean Stanton (yes, he looks young here, or almost)! This might be a movie that would be silly if one tried to hard in disentangling it - so, please, beware of the Existentialist interpretations.

Hoffa (1992)

How could I resist watching a film, based on a script by David Mamet, about a union leader? Impossible. My enthusiasm waned a bit a few minutes into the film and it kept waning, because Hoffa (dir. Danny De Vito) is simply not a very good film. Do I get a wider understanding of the labor movement in the USA? Well, maybe a little, but not really. An interesting thing here is how fiercely Hoffa & his Teamsters brethren (this is a male thing) take a stand against communism - considering the political climate in the US and A at the time, this was maybe simply an act of realism, but still. As a film about a political movement, this movie is, I think, a failure. de Vito focuses on the action-packed rallies and picket lines  (fighting the scabs) along with the crime association and as far as context gets, we end up with very little. Hoffa wasn't an awful film, but it turned out to correspond with my expectations about what a film about a union leader would be like to a very large extent, which, in this case, is not a good thing. Some good acting - yes (Looking at Jack Nicholson's gestures, I really believe that this man is living for the Teamsters, even though I can only guess at the significance of that). The best scenes in the film are the more relaxed ones, where these union gentlemen talk shit and drink coffee. But they are very few. It is the kind of film in which almost every line should be as information-packed as possible. So what kind of image of Hoffa does the film present? He ends up neither a scoundrel nor a saint. This neutral aspect of the film has its merits, but also flaws, as the image of Hoffa is at times too secretive. We see his official face and actions, no more. What I intend to say is not that there should be more intimate bedroom scenes with conversations with his wife - but rather that we do not gain an understanding of what kind of fight this man is involved in.

Whip it (2009)

Whip it (dir. Drew Barrymore) is known to be something of a feminist movie for teenagers (and older teenagers). Well -. Maybe it suffices to have a female protogonist who is involved in a tough sport to call the film feminist (considering the stale activity most young girls in American movies mostly are immersed in: drooling over a boy). And maybe it is fair to say that the film was a funny way to delve into alternative culture and the angst of kids living outside the big city (in this case, Austin, Texas) and who work in a crappy joint and who don't know what to do with their lives. We first see the main character, Bliss, charmingly played by Ellen Paige, lolling about in a beauty pageant, cheered by her mother, for whom this seems to be the most important thing in the world. The girl has other ideas about what is important in life, and it is on this tension the film builds - the conflicts between children and parents. Even though Whip it mostly follows the trajectory of the typical teenage and sports movies (problem ---> resolution, a lie --> the big revelation) it is a cheerful film that presents a different image of a girl's life than being pretty and appearing more stupid than one really is in order to please a boy's indulgent psyche. Roller derby is a raunchy sport and the film shows how this sport is much more complex than scoring points (the film touches on the subject of class and age differences, the players being in their thirties and mostly from bluecollar backgrounds). It's the small details that made me like the film: American Analog Set is played on the car stereo and the director has had the imagination to make Bliss' mother a postal worker. A thing like that.

American Gigolo (1980)

If there is one film that excavates the American soul it is ... ah well, nevermind. If you like sleazy movies (with a splash of neo-noir aesthetics) from the eighties, this is for you. Richard Gere plays the prostitute who is framed in a murder case. Don't expect a spiritual journey. Expect nice beach views, homophobic gestures (or maybe that is up to interpretation - the main character may be a closeted gay guy) and Blondie on the stereo. What is interesting here is of course how this kind of movie takes another path than Pretty Woman, even though the trade looks pretty glamorous here as well. He drives fancy cars and plays the game the best he can, without having much of a clue most of the time - this character is simply a tad bit stupid. The difference with the traditional movie about female prostitutes is that this fellow is always somehow in control, even when he is not. His job might be tough at times (going with customers whom he despises) but he never appears humiliated (as is often the case in these traditional representations of the prostitute) and when he is starting to be seen that way, the director makes sure to transform him into an active subject that is indignant and who, even when he crawls to his pimp with his tail between his legs, preserves some kind of Cool. Richard Gere's character is a lonely and cold figure, and it is hard to take anything he says and does as anything else than self-deception. The audience is supposed to be a bit shocked by the gigolo's apparent interest, which goes beyond the professional, or that is what it to look like, in older women.  - - - The film's take on mature, female desire? Absolutely repellent. The perspective of the film is that these poor, wrinkled ladies should be a bit thankful that they have the attention of a beautiful younger male, regardless of the fact that they pay good money for these little adventures. I guess, morally, this film is an insult to anybody. Beyond that - it works pretty well, if American Kitsch is your thing (it certainly is mine).

The Spiral Staircase (1945)

If the story of The Spiral Staircase had been realized as an ordinary full-color, thriller movie in 2012, it would most probably have been an insufferably inane experience to watch it. Somehow, this type of material could still be the skeleton of a decent film in 1945 and my theory is that we can give our praise to the director, Robert Siodmak, and the cinematographer. The film is standard suspense fare. A woman is murdered in the very beginning of the film and we learn that more muders are probably to come. Helen, a mute woman, works as a servant for an eccentric family in a big mansion. We start to suspect that she might be the next victim of the killer who tracks down handicapped women. The film often plays on the eerie sensation of not being alone in a room. Tracking scenes of rooms and hallways, along with extreme close-up, create the backdrop of a horror film. It is hard to believe that camera placement can mean so much, but here it really does. The relainship between the people that populate the story always veer toward the ambivalent and the slightly sadistic.

The Human Condition I & II (1959)

How is a good man to act in a corrupt system? This seems to be the question that haunts Masaki Kobayashi's The Human Condition. Considering that the two first films were made in the late fifties, it is surprising how critical they are of Japan and Japanese politics and traditions. The Human condition can be placed in a humanistic tradition of films that take a raw and yet humane perspective on the human lot. This tradition is one-dimensionally associated with European directors such as de Sica and Visconti but obviously this tradition gained a footing also in non-European film. The first two films in the three-part series constitute an immense outcry against cruelty defended in the name of nationalism. What still confuses me is how Kobayashi felt about Japan and nationalism - and what perspective is expressed in the films. In some segments, especially in the second film, set in the army, it seems as if the director would grant the possibility of non-fascist nationalism. Militarism is heaviliy criticized, but it is unclear whether the discipline and pennalism of army life is considered as a corruption of sound Japanese values.

The story of the first two films is a simple one despite the fact that they span more than six hours of packed drama. Even though there are some bombastic scenes (with big, grand and desolate-looking landscapes), the big gestures do not feel empty. The viewer can see a real form of anger and an attempt to reveal truth. Kaji, an engineer, is the main character, around whom the narrative revolves. Being the good man who struggles against the darkness of his times, it is the tension between Kaji's reactions and the reality of the situation that form the moral heart of the film. In the first film, the man is sent (his wife accompanies him) to work as a manager in a prison camp/mining company in Manchuria. He has written a tract on labor conditions and now he sets out to transform his humanitarian words into practice. Of course, his superiors don't let him go through with the progressive reforms, but he won't let himself be bogged down. He is a strong-willed man who cares about people as much as he also seems to care about how he perceives himself. What we see the end is both a tragedy for a human being and a tragedy in history. The conditions of the times are such that one man's moral stand won't have an impact in the long run. The structure of the story in the second film is similar. The man has departed from the mines and is now conscripted to army service, where he is first an ordinary recruit and then he leads a group of new recruits, trying to represent a more decent form of leadership than the one characterized by cruelty and sadism. His group is sent to the front and the front is not a cozy place. 

One ambiguity in the film, that concerns the question about what it means to be a good person, is Kaji's moral character and how it is portayed. (Even though Kaji wants to do good, he is also shown to be slightly self-righteous.) In the worst interpretation of the first two films, it seems as if the major moral tragedy is not the cruel treatment of Chinese prisoners or the horrible deeds committed in a war, but the tragedy seems to stem fron an incongruity between principles and reality. In this reading, Kaji is above all a man of elevated principles - a man that wants to have his hands clean and to act as consistent as possible. Here, the constant tension is that between strength of character and the loss of control in an impossible situation. In another reading of the film, the director, a bit clumsily, shows how a human being's perception of reality is kept intact or how it is broken down. In the first reading, the meaning of 'reality' is neutral. Reality pops up its head and trumps over moral initiatives. In the second reading, 'reality' is moral reality so that losing one's sense of reality is also losing one's moral orientation, one's moral perception. In the first interpretation, morality is personal decency that can be retained or lost - in the second, morality is something we live with others.

For all its flaws, the Human condition is truly hard to watch because of its emotional harshness. Stylistically, it is a film that explores the catastrophe with a lofty camera perspective, so that the scene is often filmed slightly from above or from a distance. Sometimes, it is as if the characters are swallowed up by the majestic landscapes. The style of the film is well in sync with the emotional power of the story.