Bourgeois threatened by affair

 THE UNFAITHFUL WIFE (1969)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Some of the critics at the time felt Hitchcockian tones present in Claude Chabrol's "The Unfaithful Wife" yet the writer-director denied such claims. He is right since his infidelity-in-a middle-class family picture is more about a slow progression of unrelenting tension felt in almost every frame without the benefits of heightened suspense by way of 120 volts of Bernard Herrmann's music. "The Unfaithful Wife" is leisurely-paced yet within its portrait of the artifice of a unified domestic family, something wicked this way will come.

Charles Desvallees (Michel Bouquet), working in the insurance business, is in a presumably happy marriage with an attractive wife, Hélène (Stéphane Audran). What's not to love; they have a son and live in a desolate French countryside manor so this all points to a beguiling bourgeois existence. From the start of the film, something is askew when Charles' mother visits, complaining to Hélène that he needs to lose weight. When we are introduced to Charles, he seems fit and jolly enough for a Frenchman who loves to drink and eat. When he is away from his heavy workload at the office, he realizes Helene needs to enjoy life a tad - sometimes they frequent a nightclub or have dinner at a fine elegant restaurant. Still, right from the start, I had the sneaky suspicion that Charles was well aware his wife was committing adultery. When she makes a phone call, we know she is calling her lover and Charles catches her without admission from either one - she claims it was a wrong number.

Charles eventually hires a private detective to check where Hélène goes when she frequents Paris. Eventually we get an address and the identity of the lover and it leads to a confrontation delivered with tension and suspense. The odd thing about Chabrol is that he refuses to indulge in heightening any moment - it is all deadpan delivery. Charles appears to be a bland individual and Helene shows a spark of sexiness that he may or may not find troubling - their bedroom scenes are nothing more than slight pecks. He knows she has desires but he has erred in thinking their domesticity is enough for their existence as a family (I suppose a sex life went out the window long before they had their son). She clearly needs passion yet the irony is that her lover (Maurice Ronet) is only a tad more animated than Charles. 

"The Unfaithful Wife" is not easy to digest or like, plainly due to the emotional disconnect to these self-absorbed characters. That is precisely the point, that a marriage has to entail something more grounded than just having a child and a pleasant home. For Charles, there is nothing else and that is his own tragedy - a man with no passion and no joy other than devotion and commitment to his family. No matter what.

Oceans of blood

 THRONE OF BLOOD (1957)

An Appreciation by Jerry Saravia

"Throne of Blood" is pure nihilistic chaos. There is no morality, only the consummation of power by any means necessary. Violence is etched in every frame of this film, and it is also encouraged and understood as the only way. Ascension of power has no limits other than someone else vying for the same climb to the desired throne. 

Set in 1400's feudal Japan, this is Akira Kurosawa's theatrical, Noh-style of Shakespeare's bloody "Macbeth" except that the dialogue from the Bard is nonexistent - only the feeling and tone are somewhat present. The sets of the Spider's Web Castle, the sole visible impenetrable fortress of note, are spare, formally empty spaces with some noticeable painted directional stripes on the walls. One other section has dried blood on the wall. Aside from the castle, the outside forest is constantly drenched from rainy weather where the spirits reside, foretelling of prophecies. There is a white witch in a hut spinning a wheel speaking in almost otherworldly tones and foretelling that samurai warrior Washizu (a terrifying Toshiro Mifune) will eventually become Lord of the Northern Garrison. Furthermore, Washizu's childhood friend, Miki (Minoru Chiaki), will lead as Commander. As the witch continues speaking of prophecies, Washizu learns he will be Lord of Spider's Web Castle and Miki's son, Yoshiteru (Akira Kubo), will also ascend to being a lordship. Is this ascension easily obtained? Perhaps, since the current Lord of Spider's Web Castle, Tsuzuki (Takamaru Sasaki), later informs the samurai warriors of their predestined positions. 

What is deeply chilling is watching Washizu's wife, Asaji in the Lady Macbeth role (truly scary performance by Isuzu Yamada), who seems to foretell her own prophecies - that is to say, she persuades with incalculable conviction that Washizu needs to kill the current lord and blame it on the guards. Asaji never makes much eye contact with her husband and when she does, she resembles the ghostly witch. Asaji is also pregnant yet there is a stillborn death, and she slowly goes insane (at one point, she washes her hands of blood stains except there is no blood or water). 

"Throne of Blood" is chock full of atmosphere and impending dread with vicious rainstorms and immense fog. Kurosawa has a crafted a story of an endless cycle of violence steeped in superstition and fulfilled prophecies. Mifune's last stand in an ocean of deadly arrows is still one of the most thrilling and intense action scenes ever recorded on film. A stone cold masterpiece.

Early Ozu comedy

WHAT DID THE LADY FORGET? (1937)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia 

I love films that exist as observational pieces on family dynamics. Yasujiro Ozu made this his own dynamic, exploring complicated relationships between families with sometimes devastating results. "What Did the Lady Forget?" is his second sound film and is more comical than his later works yet there are nuggets of truth buried in its observations.

A wealthy professor of medicine, Dr. Komiya (Tatsuo Saito), needs precious time away from his overbearing wife, Tokiko (Sumiko Kurishima). The old man is about to play golf and then decides not, opting to have a drink at a Ginza bar known as the Cervantes Bar! Since his progressive teenage niece from Osaka is in town, Setsuko (Michiko Kuwano), she follows him to the bar and drinks and smokes (oh, these rebellious teens!)  Setsujo stands up to Tokiko, refusing to cater to her demands of not drinking since Tokiko sees her as too young. The doctor is more amused than upset at his niece, and they frequent together at the bar. Of course, Dr. Komiya cannot admit to being at the bar since he's supposedly playing golf and it is raining! Komiya can't escape his wife finding about his lies and it leads to a moment of him slapping his wife in the face that almost stops everything cold. 

At 71 minutes, "What Did the Lady Forget?" explores these characters though not with quite enough depth - it is more of a treatment that could've been expanded to a longer running time (note the running time of Ozu's later efforts). I did find it to be exquisitely made and consistently absorbing in its depiction of the interior lives of this family - most of it feels like a stage play though it reads as much more cinematic. Most memorable characters are Saito's doctor, who rubs his head when he is happy, and Kuwano's luminous Setsuko. "What Did the Lady Forget?" is not a bad place to start if you have never seen an Ozu film.

When you wish to become a real boy

 PINOCCHIO (1940)
An Appreciation by Jerry Saravia

Kind, older, warm-hearted Geppetto has creates toys out of wood. His shop is filled with happiness, warmth on every inch of his place, from cuckoos clocks to a black cat named Figaro and a female fish named Cleo. A sunnier disposition cannot be had in this place until he finishes creating Pinocchio, a wooden puppet in the form of a young boy. 

Darkness enters the picture after Pinocchio is brought to life by the Blue Fairy, who has performed this miracle because Geppetto is such a good man. Like any good wooden puppet, a conscience is needed and who better than Jiminy Cricket - he consistently breaks the fourth wall making noises and sound observations. But Jiminy can't perform too many miracles himself when Pinocchio is easily deceived by a devious fox ironically named Honest John and his relatively mute partner, Gideon the Cat. This leads Pinocchio to be used as some sort of freak show at a puppet theatre, sans strings, managed by the mean, ugly Stromboli. This delights the audience but eventually our innocuous puppet is kept locked in a birdcage, presumably held captive forever. The Blue Fairy appears wondering how Pinocchio got led astray so quickly. We get the most famous scene perhaps in all of Disney's movies where Pinocchio lies and his nose grows longer and longer until tree branches start forming (Jiminy tells him quietly, "Leave me out of this.") After Pinocchio and Jiminy escape Stromboli's carriage, Honest John finds him again and lures him to Pleasure Island where all the kids are transformed into donkeys! And then we get a huge frightening whale that can probably makes waves around Moby Dick! 

"Pinocchio" is a marvelous delight, completely memorable and tightly paced from start to finish. It also has a couple of memorable, catchy songs notably "When You Wish Upon a Star" (sung by Jiminy) and amazing three-dimensional colorful animation that is among Disney's greatest efforts ever (right up there with "Fantasia"). A movie to revisit again and again (I had the good fortune of seeing it in theaters back in its 1970 reissue) - a true national treasure and a fantastic fantasy where kids will be kids but they can learn to grow and learn from their mistakes. Only Disney could make such a message feel and look so beautiful. You just might excitingly jump up and down after seeing it.     

I know thee not, old man

 CHIMES AT MIDNIGHT (1965)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Orson Welles has said that the most important character in the literary land of Shakespeare was Falstaff, the colorful overweight, boozy knight and nobleman who was friends with Prince Hal, the Prince of Wales. Falstaff was the most popular in Shakespeare's plays but never at the center of attention, certainly not as depicted here. With Orson Welles playing Falstaff in his own "Chimes at Midnight," it is no surprise to see him as the primary focus. This is where it feels right, a comical character is expanded on a story that becomes a rather serious drama by the end, about the rise and fall of a friendship and paternal love that becomes a betrayal. Shakespeare purists in the past found fault with Welles soliciting and combining certain passages and dialogue from Shakespeare's own history plays such as "Henry IV Part 1 and 2" (and a non-history play, "The Merry Wives of Windsor") but it is exciting and sometimes buoyant to see a different point-of-view from a supporting character. This is also one of the more spirited films Welles had ever made.

Buoyant would describe Welles' performance as Falstaff, a messy, jovial man who finds much merriment when he is with Prince Hal (Keith Baxter), and their gallivanting and humorous asides inside the Boar's Head Tavern can remind one of Robin Hood's own friendship with Little John. A tension is rising as Hal is admonished by his father, the austere King Henry IV (John Gielgud), for residing at that jolly tavern with its swarm of women and for hanging with Falstaff. Gielgud's reading of Shakespearean lines ("And in that very line, Harry, standest thou; For thou has lost thy princely privilege. With vile participation") is about "displacing air," a quote attributed to Welles' own documentary "Finding Othello," and it is almost musical rather than spoken - you can imagine that this amoral King can destroy with words, not actions. Hal is rash with his father yet something has affected the young prince. In many stirring and emotionally grounded scenes with Falstaff, Hal is slowly detaching himself from his friend, his second father as it were, and that words will in fact cause more damage than actions. How could they not in the land of Shakespeare?  

There are many astounding sequences particularly the Battle of Shrewsbury where we see soldiers falling on each other after being struck by arrows and swords in the thick of muddy grounds. Welles employs fast cutting and a sense of randomness in war - it feels bestial and inhuman. Falstaff stands on the sidelines, not directly involved in the battle and it is clear he is not physically able to fight this civil war. After Prince Hal (principally mentioned as Prince Henry in the history plays) kills Hotspur (Norman Rodway), a rambunctious military leader from Northumberland (both actors delivering lines of regret beautifully), Falstaff wants to take credit for the killing (more so in the play where he thrusts the sword into Hotspur's leg) with the intention of impressing a dubious King. Falstaff wants to feel a kinship with Hal even in battle (earlier it is in a planned robbery of pilgrims carrying royal money in the woods that also feels like something out of Robin Hood). 

"Chimes at Midnight" keeps you glued to the screen with Welles dominating with his immense presence, as if this part of England cannot rightfully exist without Falstaff. When we arrive at the final heartbreaking sequence of Prince Hal becoming Henry V, Falstaff is overjoyed at the news and springs forward at the coronation screaming "My king!" The king dismisses Falstaff, pretends not to know him, and has no disassociated himself from the tavern folk. The newly crowned Henry V may become as lonely and isolated as his own father. Falstaff's joy has turned to bitterness, something he may have foreseen because he felt he mattered to Hal. With Hal often walking away from Falstaff after the battle or leaving the tavern in earlier scenes, the heartbreak continues in moments that seemingly evoke Welles' own sadness and detachment from the Hollywood industry. All alone to weep for what might have been.

The Passing Barge of Romance

 L'ATALANTE (1934)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

French director Jean Vigo would surely have become one of France's greatest directors had his life not been cut short by tuberculosis. At the stunningly young age of 29, Vigo passed on and his last film, "L'Atalante," was compromised and trimmed without his approval by the studio. There had been six versions of the film since yet it wasn't until 2001 that we got a more fully-realized work that captured Vigo's swan song in all his splendor. 

"L'Atalante" is a French river barge commandeered by Captain Jean (Jean Daste) who has just married  a village girl named Juliette (German actress Dita Parlo). Their wedding procession leads them out of a village to the barge, presumably living with Jean in the barge as they travel around the world. The conditions inside the barge are not the best as evidenced by several different cats and kittens, all kept by a Pere Jules (Michel Simon), the old seaman who has collected all sorts of knick-knacks on his worldly journeys. His knick-knacks include a conductor puppet, a jar containing the severed hands of a mate who died long ago, and one too many fish nets, all inside a very cramped room.When the bored Juliette enters his room, it feels as if she is being greeted by an entire world that she had never seen. She is quite taken by Pere Jules and tries to be tender with him, though this does not lead to any intimacy beyond acknowledgement and potential friendship. In one shocking moment, Pere Jules shows her a knife he collected from his travels, cuts himself with it and she is shocked and sticks out her tongue for a second, as if she was about to lick his wound. You probably will not any moment in like that American pre-Code cinema.  

All this is interrupted by the madly jealous Jean who tears apart Jules' room. Jean yells mostly at Jules for having collected too much junk but he's mostly mad at Juliette. Promises of a night out in the town of Paris are cut short by Jules who takes off with his young cabin boy assistant to see a fortune teller, and steals a horn for his phonograph! Meanwhile, Juliette and Jean eventually visit a merry dance hall where they encounter a happy-go-lucky street peddler who flirts with Juliette and dances with her. Jean gets jealous again and they return to the barge. Eventually, Juliette sneaks out at night to Paris and Jean leaves abruptly on the ship, insulted and raving mad at her for leaving their bed. 

"L'Atalante" has a potentially flimsy story that is transformed by Jean Vigo's heart and attention to detail specifically the harsh conditions of the ship, and of Paris itself with its lack of jobs and crime in the streets, that makes it sing heartily. The movie is at times joyous and pulsates with the vibrancy of this couple's love - it gives you a lift to see the happiness in this couple and Juliette's genuine smile (I was quite moved when they sort of wrestle with each other on top of the barge). When their marriage goes sour, we feel for them and want them together - they are clearly naive and inexperienced in love. They need to mature and respect each other and know their love can overcome anything. Jean becomes a stoic man, unable to play checkers with Jules. We get parallel actions of them in bed, writhing with pleasure and wanting to be close. It is saddening for a second, then finally heartrending to see them reunite. There's a mere hesitation only because maybe neither one knows where they really stand. You embrace, you love, and now there's the rest of your life. It is a genuine romantic movie and, though it is not nearly at the level of 1927's "Sunrise," it will still give you goosebumps for days. 

C for Cinematic, H for Hitchcock

 DIAL M FOR MURDER (1954)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

It is no accident that the perfect murder is near impossible in reality, not to mention in movies and mystery books, because there is always a slip up. Tony Wendice (Ray Milland), a former tennis pro, is cocksure that a planned murder by a former associate of his will be delivered without a hitch (no pun intended). Just when you think of every conceivable aspect of a planned murder, however, some small detail is always overlooked. When you watch "Dial M for Murder" unfold, you are thinking where the slip up could be. Considering Wendice doesn't commit the murder, he did not think about unplanned and unforeseeable actions that derail his plans. 

The opening introduction of Wendice with his soon-to-be accomplice, Charles Swann (Anthony Dawson), and the initial discussion of buying a car leads to Swann's criminal background and the perfect murder is truly riveting stuff and holds your attention. The whole scene takes place in a single room in an apartment and director Hitchcock cleverly stages the scene with various angles, including the customary low angles and high angles of his later work. No shot is repeated twice and by consistently switching it up with occasional pans across the living room to a desk with curtains in the background and selective master shots, it becomes a master class in how to make a room with two people talking crackle with excitement. That the actors involved are suave, sophisticated Ray Milland and inquisitive, dapper Anthony Dawson are sufficient yet we also get angelic-looking Grace Kelly as Wendice's not-so-angelic cheating wife and Robert Cummings as a mystery novelist who is in love with Kelly. Adding enormously to the proceedings is John Williams as the fastidious Scotland Yard detective. You never think for a moment you are watching a filmed stage play.

"Dial M for Murder" is not great Hitchcock but it is tight, formal storytelling where everything falls in place precisely. It's just the murder that doesn't.