1960s List Discussion and Suggestions (Lists Project Vol. 3)

[domino harvey]

Looking forward to doing more list-specific viewing for this round, here's my first pass:

L'eau a la bouche (Jacques Doniol-Valcroze 1960) Cahiers du cinema co-founder and critic Doniol-Valcroze was somehow responsible for this worthless flick concerning conniving couple swapping in a genteel estate. Top billed Bernadette LaFont is given little to do beyond acting the infantile virgin, and the more lecherous folks surrounding her fare worse. How in the world could this palatial piffle come from someone who not only knows better but already made better? Doniol-Valcroze directed the terrific Truffaut-assisted Les surmenes in 1958, a fast-paced (and allegedly educational) examination of modern "exhaustion" starring Jean-Claude Brialy and Jean-Pierre Cassel. The earlier film is unfairly absent from discussion of the burgeoning Nouvelle Vague, but this one doesn't merit any such reclamation.

Satan conduit le bal (Grisha Dabat 1962) Five years before Catherine Deneuve and Jacques Perrin played fate-crossed lovers in Demy's Les Demoiselles de Rochefort they appeared together as one of several mismatched pairs in this clever, mean-spirited diatribe against idleness of both youth and economic class. Dabat's film, co-scripted by Roger Vadim, gives us a gaggle of flip loafers who congregate at the estate of the wealthiest's parents and waste no time in not only disrespecting existent boundaries of romantic commitment and societal decency, but flaunting said rifts. This is a cruel film-- when the most human character is the retired gangster who plots to wipe out his daughter's paramour, you know your main protagonists are fucked-- but it's a telling work of social commentary. When the richest amongst them gets rejected for the last time by Bernadette Lafont, she asks what comes next. He responds, "I'll make money."

Echappement libre (Jean Becker 1964) I've sat through a lot of these globetrotting picture-postcard espionage trifles from this decade, but this entry ranks with the best. Becker keenly repairs the most iconic French cinema couple of the era, Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jean Seberg, and plunks them inside an airy yet crisp wandering journey of double-crosses and foreign intrigues that floats by as easily as Belmondo's smartassery. Once the film devolves into a series of repeating set-ups for double-crosses, it achieves something approaching a zen loop of narrative function, with additional pleasures found in Belmondo's spry agility (both physical and verbal) and Becker's use, unusual for the subgenre, of black and white 'Scope.

Bedtime Story (Ralph Levy 1964) One of the more prestigiously stacked sex comedies of the era, starring three Oscar winners and written by the Oscar-winning screenwriter of Pillow Talk, this is as good as the pedigree would suggest. Besides being riotously laugh-out-loud funny, this cruel and bitter film explores the sexual inequality as perceived by men-- as Marlon Brando's wag says early on, it's men who are the weaker sex, and so it's therefore his duty to exploit a woman's most base female tendencies to his advantage, in order to level the playing field. Pairing up with fellow confidence man David Niven, the two eventually battle each other over who can swindle Shirley Jones first, and the film delightfully compounds double-crosses and twists until it arrives at the gentle long con of marital domesticity. Later remade sans fascinating sexual politics as Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. (I'm abandoning my Sex Comedies guide after facing down the implausibility of completing it, but this is essential viewing for anyone)

Yoyo (Pierre Etaix 1965) French clown Etaix writes and directs himself in a grand display of physical comedy, tracking the trajectory of the titular clown from childhood to fame. The first half of the film plays out as silent picture, an homage to Chaplin in the small gags and Keaton in the feats of physique. While this section is the strongest part of the film, the belly-laughs come at a steady clip for the whole of the film, thanks in no small part to Etaix's ease at slipping back into inspired silent-ready gags.

Le Père-Noël a les yeux bleus (Jean Eustache 1966) Eustache captures the ugliness of male youth as painted in the dingy cafes and street corners, now removed of any fawning light shown by the Nouvelle Vague. Jean-Pierre Leaud is marvelous as the titular teen, an unappealing shit who cluelessly navigates the field of his peers (his pathetic pick-up routines are agonizing) until offered the chance to hide behind a Santa Claus outfit on a street corner. The anonymity the suit affords him gives Leaud a false sense of control and power over his social stock, but of course once the outfit is shorn, so goes his appeal. The materialism of youth is given smart treatment here by Eustache, as Leaud works only to procure a desired (and rather hideous-looking) garment that, as his friend reminds him at the end of the film, will only go out of style in a few months. The naive dream at work here being that the cloak like his Santa Claus outfit will solve his problems, ignoring as only the immature can the inevitable result of the external surface forces of consumerism on internal deficiencies.

Dutchman (Anthony Harvey 1967) Electric two-hander with Shirley Knight (Irregardless of where their careers later went, the three Shirleys had exciting screen presences this decade) and Al Freeman Jr. tackling "the middle class black" with shoulder-shoving intensity. British director Harvey lets his stars go all out, but the actorly excesses in their respective breakdowns fit the highly pitched allegorical function of the material.

Home Movie (Frederic Pardo 1968) Zanzibar Films entry documenting, in its fashion, the behind-the-scenes workings of Philippe Garrel's Le Lit de la Vierge-- though more accurately this is a free association tribute to the comely Tina Aumont as framed against her many cohorts, be they human, animal, or geographical. Pardo offers up a little under forty minutes of silent footage, spliced and overlayed and in truth what's here is little more than what the title offers. However, that said, Aumont is so fetching and Pardo so clearly enamored with her and his friends/hangers-on that the whole thing is oddly watchable for a document of narcissism.

[knives]

Directors Guide Part 3


Jacques Tourneur
The City Under the Sea (1965)--R1 MGM (OOP)
The Comedy of Terrors (1963)--R1 MGM

Beset by alcoholism and general misfortune poor Jacques Tourneur was forced into the worst of television for most of the decade, but he did manage two proper cinema releases before his death thanks to AIP and neither film indicates a man on the sauce. The Comedy of Terrors is the clear leader of the pack here with Tourneur observing the style of Corman's Poe series and cranking everything into as high a gear as is possible. The visuals are completely gonzo with Tourneur particularly seizing upon how the film stock presents colour and screwing with presentation that way. The story too is more crazed than usual with each black note (and only black notes are played) performed to maximize the misanthropic comedy of the situation with even the most sympathetic character being completely psychopathic. The highlight for me is Basil Rathbone's man who won't die and the caviler attitude Lorre and especially Price treat him with and how that turns into a weird sort of contempt. Tourneur is so uncharacteristically angry and hatefilled here that it is only thanks to the distancing effect of the sarcasm he treats the situation with that this doesn't become a rantier Ivan the Terrible. Had this been his bow out of the business I suspect he'd be even better respected. Unfortunately his actual last film doesn't have that same personal interest to it. The City Under the Sea, named so to create a Poe connection, goes by about a half dozen names with the DVD being War-Gods of the Deep, but that's all another way to say meh for a mostly workman effort which lights up only in its moments of comedy.

Elia Kazan
The Arrangement (1969)--R1 Warners (OOP)
America, America (1963)--R1 Warners
Splendor in the Grass (1961)--R1 Warners
Wild River (1960)--R1 Fox

I have to wonder why a director as big name as Kazan with his commercial track record didn't manage more films this decade, but whatever the reason it is probably his best with a true treasure trove of, sadly, now obscure films. Splendor in the Grass is probably the only film casual viewers remember which is sorrowful as it is easily his weakest of the decade failing fundamentally on the story level (at this point I don't think even if he tried his direction could be less than immaculate let alone with Boris Kaufman helping). It's an okay movie, but not really worth its reputation. His previous film Wild River though deserves as great a reputation as can be mustered. There's actually a lot of similarities here with Grass and the film should certainly be considered as part of a weird male youth dialogue that would pop up on occasion with Kazan (see also East of Eden), but this one manages so many more ideas than he usually gives to this story with a truly heart wrenching set of relationships. The same is true of America, America which succeeds as an immigrant story because it is mostly concerned with why someone would immigrant. The film also shades things in an autobiographical way that would become Kazan's norm until his for the rest of his career essentially showing his own uncle's travels to America. It's also Kazan's last black and white film and he makes the most out of it with some truly audacious location shooting. Finally we get what's probably his most controversial film of the decade in The Arrangement. I understand why such a negative fuss was made of the film upon release. It seems to from both a story perspective and and cinematic one be looking forward and back in a way that perfectly suits its themes of generation. I almost think the film would have been better received had it been released half a decade later though that is probably just wishful thinking on a truly unique film. It probably will just always be out of time.

Federico Fellini
Fellini Satyricon (1969)--R1 MGM
Spirits of the Dead (1968) (segment "Toby Dammit")--R0 Arrow UK
Juliet of the Spirits (1965)--R1 Criterion
8½ (1963)--R1 Criterion
Boccaccio '70 (1962) (segment "Le tentazioni del dottor Antonio")--R0 Kino Lorber
La dolce vita (1960)--R1 Koch Lorber (OOP)

It's a bit funny that Fellini is without question one of the biggest forces of the cinematic '60s with this also functioning as his personal peak and yet his output is shockingly small compared to many of his fellows. Of course when your output is this powerful even with jobs that most would throw off you've probably more than earned big breaks. For me none is better than La dolce vita which (almost) practically makes Antonioni's output this decade pointless with its fantastic combining of the comedic, tragic, real, and surreal to the themes of alienation and death through the modern. 8½ is somehow even more famous and so talked about here and elsewhere that I won't go into it here. Just watch it if you haven't. Juliet of the Spirits is a bit odd in that respect though as it is a genuinely great film from every aspect you can judge, yet it is almost never spoken of. If just for some of the best use of warm colours ever this one has to be seen. Fellini's final feature of the decade has a bit of a weirder use of colour though it is still interesting in a sort of charmingly grotesque fashion. Playing as the pages between Satyricon in many ways this film feels incrediably personal and yet it emotes a feeling of playful purposelessness. It is almost as is Fellini is questioning his own art as much as he questions the compression of time in literature and of course film.

What really proves Fellini as the best director of the decade (in a lot of ways anyway) is his two entries in the rightly derided anthology movement that filled theaters this decade. Practically a series of features on its own Boccaccio '70 would probably be considered a major film if it was just any one of the segments though my personal favorite is in Monicelli's often cut segment which manages to bring Italian realism to colour with a wonderful love story that manages to be very complex. That said Fellini's segment with a billboard of Anita Ekberg haunting a local conservative is probably the most fun and is very important in his evolution considering it is his first colour film. Even though it is his weakest of the decade the film manages to still be very good. For me at least the less said about the other two segments the better (though as has already been noted there are a lot of high profile supporters of the Visconti segment which I find to be terminally stiff) though De Sica's does provide the amusing visual image of Sophia Loren as Peggy Bundy. Spirits of the Dead is a more clear cut example being, for me at least, the most consistent and great of the anthology films this decade. It helps that the source material is great, but it seems the filmmakers were genuinely excited by the prospect and given a fair share of freedom. The only one close to a dud is Vadim's typically vapid segment, but it is gotten out of the way quickly and has the amusement from the stunt casting of the Fonda siblings as lovers. The other two segments are great with Fellini's in particular feeling like a leftover colour segment to La dolce vita.

Michael Curtiz
The Comancheros (1961)--R1 Fox
Francis of Assisi (1961)--R1 Fox
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1960)--R1 Warners
A Breath of Scandal (1960)--R1 Lionsgate (OOP)

The man of a million movies has a more manageable decade this round due to a rather unfortunate case of death. Though I suppose it isn't the most unfortunate thing in the world as his Hollywood was dying and as these four illustrate he probably never would be able to change his tune to fit in. Given the all of this it is non too shocking that this is a fairly weak set even by Curtiz's mixed standards, but he starts strong and well with the last screwball A Breath of Scandal. While witnessing no one's best it provides a pleasant distraction and a reasonable entertainment. The same can't be said for his comedic adaptation of of Mark Twain's masterpiece. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is notable pretty exclusively for being one of Buster Keaton's last roles, but of his many cameos this decade this even manages to be the weakest. The film overall is less than useless. Unfortunately I suppose the same can be said of Francis of Assisi which is actually an alright film if undone by Rossellini's previous adaptations of the man. It takes a fairly generic man against the system story and works better than most at it, but it is like trying to watch Besson's Joan after Dreyer's. Likewise in its own littler vacuum The Comancheros is a pleasant enough of a western if a bit programmer in its story (the direction is surprisingly strong coming from a man practically in the grave). It really only seems lesser due to be his final showing.

[Mr Sausage]

I'm curious why you call some movies great (Juliet and 8 1/2 for instance), but don't give them a recommendatory highlight.

[domino harvey]

All of Kazan's films are pretty good this decade, though none enough to make my cutthroat list. The Arrangement gets a bum rap but I like it best of the lot, if just for the bonkers aesthetic that straddles the New Waves and the post-studio system cinematographic nightmare of the early 70s. Plus Kirk Douglas sharing a bed with nude Kirk Douglas

[knives]

I agree entirely on The Arrangement and you phrased perfectly what I was getting at with it.

I'm curious why you call some movies great (Juliet and 8 1/2 for instance), but don't give them a recommendatory highlight.

I try to reserve the red for those films with only the highest chance of me voting for them and I try to avoid doing more than three per director though that won't be the case with some filmmakers (Pasolini whenever I get to him).

[swo17]

IMDb has corrected the release year for Joe Jones' Fluxus film Smoking to 1966, so it is now eligible for your lists. (I'm actually the one that submitted the change, just last week. Easy peasy.)

[knives]

The Sterile Cuckoo

Despite being directed by Pakula I had some severe reservations about this film due to it sounding as if it were basically just Love Story with a kookier leading lady. That would have definitely made for an awful film and while Minnelli takes a while to get used to the end result is about as good as the other Pakula's I've seen. This is greatly helped I think by making them equal opposites from a story standpoint. The film is narcissistic in that Jerry and Pookie become the same person in conversation with radically different sides. On the story level Pakula attempts this by removing Jerry's backstory and character development while doing the opposite for Pookie. We never know anything of Jerry in so far as facts such as where he lived, why he is here, and why he is attracted to Pookie. His existence starts with the film and so his personality has no before Pookie. We get him already wracked and confused ready to be transformed. The opposite happens with Pookie who we get to know almost too much about. Her personality within the film stays (and unfortunately never overcomes) a MPDG because her movie has already occurred, but Pakula relays it to us constantly. A scene doesn't go by without revealing her dark past.

This all makes the story turn into one about the transitional nature of madness. While Pookie does the stereotypical 'freeing' of Jerry he does something likewise making their dependence on each other and life outside the relationship equal. In that sense one can suppose that she is simply a gamine rather than a narrative MPDG. Jerry has no life outside of her with his characterization being dependent on her. This is to say that the role of the MPDG is split between the two of them. The personality aspects are Pookie's while Jerry holds the narrative role. The height of this split comes when the film most actively plays with Pookie's lack of outside in the frame life about an hour in when she and Jerry argue where she will stay which turns into an argument over an unexpected conception. Pookie's life remains off the screen, but it is far more expansive, complex, and weaving than Jerry's on the screen.

[domino harvey]

I tracked this down after becoming fascinated with the whole MPDG thing post- Elizabethtown (most unfairly malligned film of the aughts?) but barely remember it, so it's obviously not much of a candidate for my list. Pakula rules the 70s but I only have room for Inside Daisy Clover (the best of the Mulligan colabs) this decade

[knives]

I can agree with that. The film isn't perfect and never really seems to find a balance between understanding Minnelli's illness and being charmed by her eccentricity, but it is still one of the better first efforts I've seen.

[Tommaso]

Two very well known films which I nevertheless only watched recently for this list-making:

The Battle of Algiers (Gillo Pontecorvo, 1966): Normally I'm not a fan of political movies at all, so while this was a much praised film, when I finally sat down to watch it I didn't expect it to be very much down my alley. I was totally wrong, of course. Apart from the content I was particularly struck by the way Pontecorvo organised his images. In spite of the semi-documentary feeling, this film has visual poetry in many of the camera set-ups, the portrayal of the upper-class garden dinner, or the parallel montage of the three women going out to plant their bombs that forcibly reminded me of something that could have been done by Antonioni. And while the film has some clear sympathies, it is also curiously non-judgemental and not at all propagandistic. The FLN's initial repressive actions against those Algerians who do not want to support them are hardly suited to make the viewer sympathise with them, even though the bias changes with the later atrocities from the French side. And the portrayal of the French Colonel (fantastic acting by Jean Martin) is differentiated enough to make his actions understandable, within the perverted logic of attack and counter-attack. He's certainly not shown as a simple sadist. So the film very successfully avoids any black&white-approach, which gives it a timeless quality. A very impressive masterpiece.


Tokyo Olympiad (Kon Ichikawa, 1965): Another fantastic Olympia film and indeed every way as good as Riefenstahl's. While the German film of course is a celebration of pure aesthetics (disregarding its propaganda value for the moment), Ichikawa's approach shows how hard this physical beauty of sports is earned, even already with the very first shot of buildings being destroyed to make way for the sports venues. But while his is a far more humane approach, Ichikawa still allows us occasionally to revel in the beauty of some of the events. I think of the beginning of the gymnastics sequence with the stunning shots of the lady in red on the bars, for instance. But the camerawork is impressive all the way.

[colinr0380]

Ichikawa's approach shows how hard this physical beauty of sports is earned, even already with the very first shot of buildings being destroyed to make way for the sports venues

Speaking as someone who a couple of months ago had to fight their way through the crowds waiting for the Olympic Torch to go past while desperately trying to get to my train home (and saw the absurd/frightening spectacle of more policemen than I had seen in decades closing the roads for an open flame), I can say that I have come to appreciate much more that brief moment at the beginning of Tokyo Olympiad of the crowds jostling against each other and stepping on each others toes to get into the best position! I would never have thought that I would experience a similarly annoying moment myself!

It seems one of the few Olympic films that, while celebrating the spectacle of sporting achievement, keeps the events focused onto the individuals and their struggles in the moment. Getting inside the psychology of the events rather than just capturing the outcomes. Which makes it very different from the recent over emotionalisation of turning athletes into people with individual journeys and struggles against adversity and medical problems to get to the point which sets them apart from the masses on the one hand, and the Riefenstahl way of turning people into mass representatives only of their country and as physical "faster, stronger, higher" bodies rather than individual people on the other. Instead it sees each person with all their idiosyncrasies intact, without having to turn them purely into symbols, or at least tries to as much as the dehumanising spectacle of the Olympics allows.

[matrixschmatrix]

I haven't seen the Reifenstahl, so I can't compare, but I enjoyed Ichikawa's total lack of interest in most of the normal narratives of sport- none in winners and losers, none in backstories or rivalries, very little even in the general rules of a given competition. It's not abstracted- as you both observe, it's very grounded in the physical reality of a sporting event, much more so than normal sports coverage- but it feels like the Olympian equivalent of a grunt's eye view of warfare sort of thing, where the it's less a longitudinal story of time and strategy and more a few days' story of immediate actions and the bodies that produce them .

[Tommaso]

Two by Jacques Rivette:

La Religieuse (1966): This seems to me the film in which Rivette truly came into his own. A stunning adaptation of a Diderot novel, it shows Rivette's trademark interest in the theatre by often static camera set-ups and an uncanny sense for blocking, allowing us to become spectators of this historical drama - about a nun kept in a convent against her wishes and being mistreated by her superior and co-inmates - with a certain 'objective' distance which paradoxically doesn't work against emotional involvement here. Anna Karina's performance is strikingly intelligent and sensitive all the way, and so is Lilo Pulver's as her lesbian superior in the second convent Suzanne enters. I don't know the novel, but the way Rivette ends the film - shocking in it's matter-of-factness - shows that the seemingly free world outside the convent(s) is as oppressive as the world of the nuns and offers no way out; neither does the libertinage in the second convent. It's a very painterly film, too, with Rivette 'quoting' paintings from the 18th century in some of his scenes. Beautiful use of colours, sometimes with a symbolic significance it seems (the red on the floor before the altar, and a similar red touch to the water when Karina is scrubbing the floor).

As this is one of Rivette's most accessible and successful films, it's really beyond me why there's no English-friendly DVD edition anywhere. Thankfully English subs are floating around, so don't miss this masterpiece.

L'amour fou (1968): this is the first of Rivette's 'monsters' (with a runtime of 4 hours) and in many ways a pre-study for "Out1". But even if this film seems to have been largely improvised like many of Rivette's later films, I still find it surprisingly well-structured and certainly not as chaotic as "Out1" would prove to be. Much of what would become hallmarks of his work can be found here: the intersection between a theatrical performance being prepared and the real life of those producing it (with the lines of Racine's "Andromache" seeming to comment on the things happening in the lives of the director and his wife), the drift into semi-insanity in Bulle Ogier's role, and the question of cinema production (here stressed by the fact that the rehearsals are being filmed by a film crew, with the theatre production's director also having to muse about the rushes and actors being interviewed by the film crew). Complex and captivating once the plot begins to evolve after 60 minutes or so.... The semi-documentary, 'flat' camera style of this film is far removed from the carefully 'deep'-composed images of La religieuse, but feels as cinematic.

The complete absence of this important film on DVD amounts to a scandal. There are several VHS-sourced versions floating around (ranging from abysmal to quite all right), but really: not even the French have the guts to release this?! Well, let's all put these films on our list so that finally someone wakes up...

[zedz]

I've updated the experimental film list in the second post of this thread, adding about twenty films, including the contents of the brand spanking new Jonas Mekas box set and the only recently discovered (by me) Harun Farocki one. Also included are some really major films I'd missed that Re:Voir have snuck out on DVD at some point (Adolfas Mekas' Hallelujah the Hills, Gunvor Nelson's Schmeerguntz and Tony Conrad's The Flicker) and Marcel Marien's L'Imitation de cinema, now that I've confirmed that it comes with English subs.

Unless something's gone disastrously wrong with the transfers (I'll let you know), the Mekas box seems like a must-buy: many major works, including a reissued Walden (without the incredible book, so those with the first edition should keep hold of it), a crammed disc of shorts, and thorough bilingual booklets with each disc. The individual discs also seem to be available on their own (well, I saw them for sale individually before the box was out).

And here's another highly recommended experimental film from the 60s that's out on DVD:

Kommunikation (Edgar Reitz, 1961) – Die Oberhausener (Edition Filmmuseum) – One of the biggest arbitrary decisions about compiling a list of experimental films is determining the border between documentary and the avant-garde. Historically, their origins are tightly wound together (just think back to Dziga Vertov and any number of silent ‘city films’) and even as late as the sixties a number of experimental film artists were exploring film form in the guise of commissioned short works. In the end, I relied on a very ad hoc, rough-and-ready, and completely subjective weighing up of form and content. If a given film seemed to me preoccupied with form at the expense of content, I put it on the list. It was all subjective, but if a film lacked narration, or went a long way towards abstraction, or indulged at length in (wonderfully) gratuitous montage and optical printing effects, those were pretty strong indications that the filmmaker in question had little genuine interest in meeting his or her commercial brief. This everything-and-the-kitchen-sink etude by Reitz is a good case in point, as he plays with colour, pattern, superimpositions, wacky lenses, rhythmic montage and what have you to such an extent that the presumed message (about the pervasiveness / wonder / threat / something-or-other of modern communication technology, one assumes) is washed away into incoherence or irrelevance.

[TMDaines]

The Oberhausener set as a whole is a really interesting buy. You should be able to pick it up for around €20 (sans shipping) too, which is low for a double disc Edition Filmmuseum release.

[thirtyframesasecond]

Quite a well known film, but I revisited Polanski's 'Repulsion' over the weekend. I'd still say it's his best film - certainly he copied enough aspects of it for later films. The visual metaphors he uses for Carol's sexual confusion are inspired, the sense of foreboding is constant. This'll feature very highly on my own list.

[knives]

Director's Guide Part 4

Roman Polanski
Rosemary's Baby (1968)--------------R1 Criterion
The Fearless Vampire Killers (1967)---R1 Warners
Cul-de-sac (1966)----------R1 Criterion
Repulsion (1965)-----------R1 Criterion
Knife in the Water (1962)---R1 Criterion

Polanski jumped strong out of film school of course, some I'm sure would say he jumped into it with as much power, with Knife in the Water which remains one of the very best first features out there though I'd be ashamed not to acknowledge the film's huge debt to screenwriter Jerzy Skolimowski's tremendous work on the film. It really is worth hunting down transcripts of the radio dialogue for the sheer hilarity that goes into it. Certainly enough to be a masterwork in itself which is probably the best explanation of the feature on the whole. Every great idea they have is placed on the screen so innocuously that it becomes easy to forget that those ideas are there in the first place. His next feature, Repulsion, has become so influential in Polanski's own work and representations of madness in general that it almost becomes impossible to talk about yet every hard worked image is so powerful that it really doesn't need to be talked about. Even just one of it's close-ups on Denevue's nerve-wracked face is enough. It doesn't even need its title. The irony of all that being that Cul-de-sac was intended to hold that place in Polanski's mind and though it does become a greater film every time I watch it it's clear why this awkward attempt to play with masculinity via Beckett doesn't entirely work. It becomes almost too personal to be practical to an audience. The same problem plagues The Fearless Vampire Killers on some level as this comedy is never funny though it is abstractly interesting and bizarre. This is all just short stops to his masterpiece of the decade and first American film Rosemary's Baby. Sometimes I really do wish I could see William Castle's version of the film, but to give up what we got is worth nothing. Not even all the chocolate mouse in the world.

Luis Bunuel
The Milky Way (1969)-----------R1 Criterion (OOP)
Belle de jour (1967)-------------R1 Criterion
Simon of the Desert (1965)-----R1 Criterion
Diary of a Chambermaid (1964)-R2 Studio Canal/ R1 Criterion (OOP)
The Exterminating Angel (1962)-R1 Criterion
Viridiana (1961)---------R1 Criterion
The Young One (1960)--R1 Lionsgate

I realize most might posit Bunuel's last decade as director (or perhaps the '50s) as his best, but I must admit I am most found of this decade where even the one rotten egg has so much to admire I'm practically blushing. It's also easily his most versatile period with no two film being quite a like (and even some feeling like they were born out of different hands). Just look to The Young One, his sole film in english, which is a purely realist aesthetic and little in the way of the humour that takes hold in most of his work. At times it feels a little too Tobacco Road in its treatment of rural Americans, but even there the film manages to make its lead three engagingly human and real. Virdianna conversely is one I throw myself around on all of the time. This really feels like Bunuel's thumb toward the left accusing them of a false charity in such a powerful way it makes me honestly hate the movie which only goes to show how honest it is. I don't think I'd ever want to see it again, but at least as far as message is concerned this is Bunuel's greatest film. The Exterminating Angel gets a lot of credit for being the baseline toward Bunuel's next set of European films, but it also deserves a lot of credit for how it honestly plays with the Mexican class system which has its distinctions from that of the old world which makes certain parts of the film only able to work where it was made. Even the horrible acting in places develops its own little charm as it shocks from the over to the under played. I'd never expect Renoir and Bunuel to overlap even with Virdianna's Bodou play and yet that is what we have with Diary of a Chambermaid. This adaptation doesn't match up to Renoir's and doesn't succeed in the realism that his more low budget efforts did but the film is okay enough. At worst a case of wasted potential. Alternatively Simon of the Desert is one of those films of such immense quality that it makes even the great efforts around it look like a poor man's sport in comparison. With all of the brevity in the world Bunuel with heart on sleeve perfectly visualizes every point on religion he ever could making subsequent efforts horribly redundant. This is none more true than with The Milky Way, possible the weakest of his late period films. I'd blame some of my lack of affection on how involved it is with christian rules and hypocrisies that I as an atheist Jew have no concern for, but then he still made that work wonders in Simon. The Milky Way is in short only of use to those needing a crash course in christian history. Though he does illustrate things beautifully. Before I forget Belle de jour manages something of a reverse to The Exterminating Angel. It is absolutely European in approach and style, some of his best use of colours, yet the story and characters are more typical of his Mexican period lovingly detailing the members of the fringe and the worst. Its laid back walk of a story makes it feel as if we are just getting one chapter of a book that should go on forever (which is why I appreciate de Oliviera's sequel even if it is a radical departure). There aren't many shots out there leaving you hungry not just for more, but for all and Bunuel manages arguably the best.

William Wyler
Funny Girl (1968)---------------R1 Sony
How to Steal a Million (1966)----R1 Fox
The Collector (1965)---R1 Image
The Children's Hour (1961)--R1 MGM

It feels a bit weird to talk about a director so closely tied to the studio era at its time of death. Yet Wyler functions as a chameleon adapting to the tides of change as if he spent his whole life in this new world. Which is not to say he suddenly gained the consistency he never had. The prime evidence of this is his second (and weakest) adaptation of The Children's Hour a play which frankly was already very dated by the time this version went into production. The performances particularly from MacLaine are pretty great and Wyler's direction is fairly sharp, but nothing really brings the film above its material which is a permanent cripple. This is not so in the case of The Collector a film which really feels like it is coming from another man entirely. Even the direction which is as great as anything Wyler ever did feels put together by an Antonioni acolyte or someone similar instead of somebody who helped form the Hollywood sound style. This film really has it all being political, daring, and morally complex (if a tad muddled) while never following into the ugly hole of exploitation its premise promises. That last point may be the greatest success of Wyler since his casting of Harold Russell. After all that stress though it's understandable why he would turn his eye to a family friendly knock-off of Charade in the form of How to Steal a Million which in its light fun manages to be just about as charming a film as is possible. At times it falls into the dull trap of a Blake Edwards film, but even in those moments the game cast keeps things at least afloat. Finally Wyler goes soft for his penultimate film the Fanny Brice biopic Funny Girl. It's an okay movie though its best attributes are in what it somehow manages to not be rather than what it is.

Michelangelo Antonioni
Blowup (1966)---R1 Warners
I tre volti (1965) (segment "Il provino")---Unavailable
Red Desert (1964)--R1 Criterion/ R2 BFI
L'eclisse (1962)--R1 Criterion
La notte (1961)--R1 Lorber/ R2 MOC
L'avventura (1960)---R1 Criterion

Perhaps I'm a bit wrong to be talking about Antonioni as I don't hold the common views on him at all, but his influence on the era in undeniable so here he is. L'avventura is the big boy in this class with its boos at Cannes and geometry and what have you, but in the face of its legendary stature even amongst this group I have to admit to finding it as the weakest of this decade and perhaps his career. The big point seems childish and nostalgic with the few attempts at applying it politically being sour grapes. Much better, to me at least, is La notte which manages to far better combine Antonioni's distance and the way his stories are very dependent on the emotional state. His propping of any importance in the micro political sense is gone resulting in, for me, a rather great combination of his old style and the new one he was attempting to develop. Likewise L'eclisse is a better combination of his new concerns though less engaged than La notte was. With colour does this new life really hit it out of the ballpark as The Red Dessert finally throws away the distance and goes so fully into Vitti's head that we get the perfect example of that rot that defines this decade of Antonioni. It even features the greatest shot of Antonioni until the end of The Passenger with the son's false paralysis. Even a skeptic like me can't not give in then. I'm very surprised that Antonioni's lone omnibus addition, the first episode to I tre volti, doesn't get more attention as it seems to me a pretty important part of his evolution away from Monica Viti. He tries to treat Soraya as Viti even giving her a section to dress up as other famous actresses in the moment ending with a particularly violent Liz Taylor with his camera sighing in defeat each time as Soraya never becomes Viti. This bowing to producers which seems so unlike Antonioni seems like a confidence test on his part. Given his subsequent decade plus of films it seems that this film failed which is not to say its a failure as Antonioni experiments with story and application of his style particularly with point of view beyond Viti to make for a powerful commentary on the face always photographed. The title, translating to The Specimen, expresses his neuroses with scientific perfection though he never gets the necessary specimen. The other two segments are fairly good though Richard Harris doesn't seem comfortable playing a character that high class and the segments themselves are rather typical. That doesn't prevent this from being an invaluable find for those who can. Finally we get Blowup, Antonioni's huge go at the english language. This is another film that I find has a reputation far larger than its worth though at least this time around Antonioni isn't so po-faced and grumpy allowing his thriller to turn into a rather hilarious film at points.

[Gregory]

That's the first case I've seen of anyone preferring the earlier Children's Hour adaptation, which was utterly destroyed by the requirements of the Code. How was the play very dated by 1961? I'm not sure that society's treatment of homosexuality, or the merits of Hellman's play, changed all that drastically in that interim. In most cases it'd take a detailed reception study to help determine what was dated in its day, that long ago; otherwise it's biased by what seems dated by the standards of today and the particular places we're familiar with. I haven't watched it recently, but I found it strong enough that it doesn't need to be topical or socially relevant anymore, though it surely still is to some degree. Victim doesn't hold up nearly as well, for example, I think. Wyler executed the material well and got good performances from MacLaine and Hepburn who demonstrate some impressive acting range.

[knives]

I actually prefer Victim whatever that says about me I don't know. I agree with your last sentiment, but I find the material even when well executed to have a slightly Kramer view of sexuality and a weird prejudice going on in. The script seems to have a great dislike of MacLaine's character as if rewarding Hepburn for being less gay though Wyler and MacLaine both do excellent work to shift away from that. I consider the film to be a failure, but one which reflects well on the people who made it.

[TMDaines]

I tre volti (1965) (segment "Il provino")---Unavailable

This is most definitely available as I have it on my PC (and googling "I tre volti avi", for example, will find it).

[knives]

It's unavailable on DVD or Bluray though. You can't go and purchase it at the moment.

[TMDaines]

Yeah, but so is the bulk of cinema

[domino harvey]

The Milky Way is my favorite Bunuel, but you're right, without the proper Christian theological context it's not going to hit as hard. I'm pretty much with you on your Polanski ratings (though Vampire Killers is better than you make it sound). I have never ever understood those who prefer La notte to L'avventura or L'eclisse. Those two plus Red Desert will likely all make mine and most of our lists.

The Collector, while it misses completely the point of the source novel, is still a very good film in its own right. It sounds like you enjoyed How to Steal a Million more than you're trying to admit-- sure it's fluff, but of the cotton candy variety, not insulation foam! The Children's Hour is indeed problematic for its "punishment" aspect, but the performances are right and I haven't seen the earlier adaptation to compare. Of course, if we're talking key Audrey Hepburn films from the decade, it's gotta be Two for the Road and Paris-- When it Sizzles and not fucking Breakfast at Tiffany's and My Fair Lady, no matter how ingrained they are on the public consciousness!

[knives]

I agree with you on How to Steal a Million which is just a great piece of fun and a great film in its own right (the use of colour and Wallach's performance alone make it the best piece of entertainment this side of the studio line). I certainly didn't want it to sound like I think it lacks anything.

[Mr Sausage]

The Milky Way is my favorite Bunuel, but you're right, without the proper Christian theological context it's not going to hit as hard.

It was a missed opportunity that Criterion never put a feature on their disc about all the theological debates satirized in the film. Just having even a slight understanding of the Arian heresy, for instance, is enough to turn one of the episodes from baffling to hysterical.

It's definitely one of Bunuel's most intellectualized works. I like it a lot. It makes the intricate complexities of all the debates and heresies seem so inane and so pointless in their ferocity (and, by the end, so interchangeable).

Oddly enough, I actually think Viridiana is much harder for a non-Catholic to fully appreciate than The Milky Way. You need to already have some cultural veneration for nuns and charity inculcated into you for the former one to fully work, while the latter just needs a bit of historical context.