Fårö Document (1970)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Fårö Document (1970) – I. Bergman

Ingmar Bergman made two documentaries about the people on the island that he came to call home in the late 1960s, Fårö (which is a small island just off the coast of the larger island of Gotland, southeast of Stockholm in the Baltic Sea).  Bergman interviews a few of the 900 residents (a school-teacher, a 102 year old carpenter, a sheep farmer, a fisherman, a young couple just about to have a baby, an old retired woman with an amputated leg, some school children) and shows scenes from the island and its routines (graphic scenes of sheep being slaughtered by hand caused me to look away).  In 1969, the island was dealing with a decreasing population (as young people left for the mainland) and a decrease in autonomy as local services were becoming centralised in Gotland.  Bergman uses some of his questions to address the politics of the island (and of Sweden), advocating for the rights of his neighbours (the documentary was shown on Swedish TV).  Bergman is a good interviewer and the interviewees seem at ease and their reflections are intriguing – even if one knows nothing about Fårö, it isn’t hard to imagine their lives and concerns (and to see the universal human condition in them). Sven Nykvist’s cinematography, in both black & white and colour, elevates the picture to something more poetic than a series of talking heads.  Bergman made a sequel in 1979 (which I will turn to next).

Alfie (1966)

☆ ☆ ☆

Alfie (1966) – L. Gilbert

I’m working my way through a list of the best 100 British films of the 20^th century and this was next in line.  Featuring one of Sir Michael Caine’s early star turns in full on Cockney mode, the film is horribly dated. iMDB describes the plot pithily as follows: “An unrepentant ladies' man gradually begins to understand the consequences of his lifestyle.” Throughout the film, Caine breaks the fourth wall to speak directly to the camera about his exploits, which involve affairs with married women behind their husbands’ backs, getting girls pregnant and leaving them, and generally behaving like a misogynist cad.  He isn’t a sympathetic character although some of his adventures (and spiels) must have been designed for comedy (perhaps his over-reaction to finding spots on his lungs at the doctor’s office). Fifty years later, it is hard to tell whether anyone in the audience was expected to identify with Alfie’s behaviour – teen boys wanting to imagine a love ‘em and leave ‘em lifestyle, perhaps – but more mature audience members would certainly see the shine come off as Alfie is psychologically affected by both the loss of his toddler son (when the young mum he impregnated eventually marries someone more responsible) and a depressing abortion (that he encouraged in a married woman he seduced). We leave him being rejected by Shelley Winters in favour of a younger stud.  In the end, the film lands halfway between kitchen-sink realism and farce, tantalising the audience with laddish exploits while still moralising heavily about their consequences.  Cher sings the title song over the closing credits.

Midsommar (2019)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Midsommar (2019) – A. Aster

Director Ari Aster garnered a lot of attention for his first film, Hereditary (2018), that featured Toni Collette as a woman seeking support in dealing with grief over the death of her mother.  This results in a significant amount of family conflict (and horror) and things get very weird.  Midsommar follows a similar pattern.  Florence Pugh (so great in Lady MacBeth, 2016) plays Dani, a young woman who has also recently lost her parents and now travels with her rather thoughtless boyfriend to a remote Swedish village with his friends.  Apart from Dani (a psychology student), they are all postgraduate students studying anthropology.  The trip to Sweden is an opportunity to attend a unique festival at the request of a student from that village but, for Dani, it is also a means of escape from her grief and perhaps a chance to solidify her (shaky) bond with Christian (Jack Reynor).  Arriving in Sweden, the group is repeatedly given magic mushrooms and exposed to the customs and cultural traditions of the Hårga people. The build up of tension is slow and steady, as weirdness is suddenly introduced and then backed away from.  There is a fair bit of foreshadowing (particularly if you look at the paintings and murals around the village in detail) which “explains” the plot but might be too overt.  Because the film takes its cues from The Wicker Man (1973), if you’ve seen that, then you probably have half an idea where this is going (although it gets a lot more graphic). Although Pugh is excellent (despite a role that calls mostly for grimacing and crying), Jack Reynor and the other actors playing the guests are not always convincing. It is probably Aster’s script that lets them down, as he seems more interested in the various rites and pageantry than in his characters – until the end when he wants to comment on the relationship dynamics again (but may not have “earned” the moment?).  Still, this is a film that holds your attention the whole way through, even if your acceptance of its reality wavers at times.  In this genre, that is often the best that we can get.

Un Flic (1972)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Un Flic (1972) – J.-P. Melville

Melville’s final film is a restatement (or rehashing) of his earlier themes about male bonding, grace under pressure, the commonalities between cop and criminal (themes later borrowed by John Woo among others).  It also is another example of his stylized technique, with the art direction and set design featuring multiple shades of grey, blue, and brown (including the suits, trench coats, and fedoras), shot in the rain or on cloudy days.  Melville famously claimed that his films weren’t “Bressonian” but instead that Robert Bresson’s films were “Melvillian” – by which he means to say that his films were intensely focused on instrumental actions (including shots of hands and feet) more than on establishing the psychology of his characters. Un Flic displays this fetish rather extravagantly with two major heist scenes, the gang (led by dubbed Richard Crenna) robs a bank on a rainy day and a drug courier on a train.  The latter scene takes place in “real time” as the train travels twenty minutes between two stops and Crenna descends from a helicopter onto the roof and then back up again.  (The fact that the train and helicopter are so clearly models detracts from the film and speaks to Melville’s tight budget; unlike Hitchcock’s back projection, the effect here isn’t particularly Brechtian). The two heist set pieces don’t really contribute to the themes or to character development in Un Flic.  Instead, Alain Delon’s police inspector is more richly presented, as we see him in a variety of contexts, at different crime scenes, at the office, with police informants, and alone with his tryst partner Catherine Deneuve – but also at the typical Melvillian nightclub (with synchronised dancing girls) which is run by Crenna whose girlfriend is actually Deneuve as well (a link between cop and crook again).  Of course, everything and everyone is cool, particularly Delon, Crenna, and Deneuve, but Melville’s handling of the conclusion feels abrupt – he’s set the mood expertly, but he has less patience for the resolution and its (typical) fatalism.  Still, there’s a nice effect when Delon’s final move in this chess match sinks in.  Start elsewhere but this is still worth it for fans.

Volver (2006)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Volver (2006) – P. Almodóvar

There are some darker undertones here in what otherwise is a “fun” ghost story from Pedro Almodóvar.  As usual, his film features women in the major roles and their relationships are the focus – the darkness arises from how women are treated by men.  Penelope Cruz plays Raimunda, a woman whose mother (Carmen Maura) has died three years earlier (in a fire with Raimunda’s father).  She suddenly finds herself a single mum and makes due by taking over an empty restaurant and serving a visiting film crew lunch for a few weeks (and also staging their wrap party).  She doesn’t know that her sister (Lola Dueñas) has been receiving ongoing visitations from her mum, which began soon after the mum’s sister passed away.  A subplot finds the aunt’s neighbour on a quest to find her own missing mum.  Almodóvar’s world is a candy-coloured one, filled with chatty eccentric characters who deal with mundane (and deadly serious) problems with aplomb. The fantastical and supernatural elements are generally played for comic effect (but the soundtrack feels like something Bernard Herrmann wrote for Hitchcock at times).  Of course, all of the various plot threads are nicely tied together by the end (although viewers might not be able to shake off some of the darkness).  I find Almodóvar’s films to be hit or miss and while this one falls on the positive side of his oeuvre, I can’t help feeling that it is just a shade too slight (although that may just be the director's talented sleight of hand, making complicated themes go down smoothly).   

Where the Sidewalk Ends (1950)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Where the Sidewalk Ends (1950) – O. Preminger

There are a few moments in the film where Dana Andrews is faced with a moral dilemma: reveal just how badly he has screwed up and pay the consequences or continue to try to cover things up, including to his new love interest (Gene Tierney) whose father is likely to go to jail in his place, and possibly get away with it.  At the end, he just gazes past the camera and lets it all sink in.  This moment could be the best acting in Andrews’ career. He could go either way.  This being film noir, we aren’t sure.  Director Otto Preminger (working from a screenplay by Ben Hecht) expertly orchestrates the tightening of the screws: Andrews is first warned for beating up perps and then placed in a situation where he has to strike someone in self defence (who immediately croaks).  His desperation is palpable and it only gets worse as he tries to help the innocent man who might take the fall in his place.  Karl Malden and Gary Merrill show up in supporting roles (on either side of the law).  Preminger’s other noirs (Laura, Angel Face, Whirlpool) vary in quality but none of them are particularly distinguished by the classic noir visual style (as far as I recall). Nevertheless, the situation of being trapped by one’s own flaws makes this an archetypal entry in the genre. 

Good Time (2017)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Good Time (2017) – B. Safdie & J. Safdie

Benny and Josh Safdie are hot indie directors and this 2017 feature may be their breakthrough (the first of their films I’ve watched).  Robert Pattinson stars as Connie, a hoodlum (more or less) who stages a bank robbery with his intellectually disabled brother, Nick (Benny Safdie).  When it goes wrong and Nick is jailed, Connie seeks to break him out (but it turns out he’s been relocated to a hospital after getting beaten up in a prison fight).  Thus begins a rather epic night that sees Connie travel from the bail bondsman’s office to the hospital and points beyond (a closed amusement park) as his plans fall apart.  The soundtrack by Oneohtrix Point Never (pulsating electronic music) really makes the film and gives it a druggy overtone that isn’t contradicted by the action we see (and the film’s visual sense).  Pattinson inhabits the character well and pretty much disappears into it (esp. after his hair is bleached).  The desperation onscreen (punctuated by sudden jolts of violence) is pretty palpable.  So, the film might give viewers a rush of sorts. There is also some pretty black comedy afoot (possibly in bad taste).  But when things suddenly ground to a halt 100 minutes later, I guess I was left wondering what the point of it all was.