Berlin: Symphony of a Great City (1927)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Berlin: Symphony of a Great City (1927) – W. Ruttmann

More interesting as an historic artefact these days than as a fully enjoyable film (methinks), Walter Ruttmann’s hour-long montage of footage recorded in Berlin circa 1927 shows ordinary rather than extraordinary people and locales (no sign of the Brandenburg Gate). Of course, it is impossible not to think of the future that will unfold for these ordinary people, with Hitler’s rise just around the bend, but there is nothing in these scenes that hints at this eventuality. Indeed, the activities of the people of Berlin, shown from 5 AM through until night, could be the activities of people in any big European city (or perhaps even New York City). At times, these activities even seemed like the activities that people do today in any big city (sitting at a café). Ruttmann’s real contribution, aside from inaugurating the city symphony film, was to create a fully dynamic piece through editing and montage (and of course shots of people in action) – for a while, I counted the shot lengths, which ranged from 2 to 10 seconds or so, trying to ascertain whether there was a calculated rhythm being employed. My conclusion was that the shots were probably directly linked to the music (by Edmund Meisel), although otherwise the film is completely silent. As far as content goes, we do see a range of activities and people, rich and poor, happy and sad, mundane and more specialised; some shots are obviously staged for the camera whereas others are not. Ruttmann plays a few tricks on the audience, engages in visual poetry and other artistic cutting, and generally mixes things up to hold the audience’s interest.

 

Used Cars (1980)

☆ ☆ ☆

Used Cars (1980) – R. Zemeckis

I feel as though there used to be more of these raunchy comedies made for adolescents or guys who haven’t fully grown up.  They aren’t sophisticated (and I know that sometimes that’s what’s needed).  But some of these films find their humour in sexist ways or by making some people the butt of the joke. Of course, this can be done genially or with unpleasantness. Fortunately, Used Cars is really genial in its approach (only some T&A, as they used to call it, feels tackier these days than it did in 1980). That said, at its core, the film is pretty dark:  gentle car lot owner Luke (Jack Warden) dies of a stroke, leaving salesmen Rudy (Kurt Russell) and Jeff (Gerrit Graham) with hiding his death (cue Weekend at Bernie’s) as the only option to save the business from being taken over by Luke’s evil brother (also played by Jack Warden) and his competing car lot across the street.  As a result, an all-out battle for customers ensues between the two franchises (which even involves Lenny & Squiggy as hi-tech airwave pirates) until Luke’s estranged daughter (Deborah Harmon) turns up to throw a monkey wrench into the works. Of course, it all ends with a galvanising feel-good finish.  I can’t say I really laughed too much but the situations were humorous and your “mileage” may vary.    

 

Liquid Sky (1982)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Liquid Sky (1982) – S. Tsukerman

Rather strenuously outré, boho, taboo-breaking although not exactly in a comic vein like Waters but more straight-faced like Warhol/Morrissey (or perhaps it seems that way because it is set in Manhattan). It’s also a one-off early ‘80s curio that is now a time capsule for a scene that’s gone (weird fashion, spare angular music). Aliens in a tiny flying saucer arrive on the roof of a model’s building (she lives in a very art-decorated but also somehow trashy penthouse). According to a wandering scientist, they seek heroin (and there are a lot of junkies in this film) but soon they discover that chemicals in the brain during orgasm are even better and they start abducting (or maybe absorbing) people having sex.  The model at the nexus of all this (Anne Carlisle) also plays another male model (which results in some tricky camerawork/staging). But let’s face it, the plot is totally besides the point here and instead you get a melange of drug use, sex, sweary ranting, Altered States styled computer animation/modification, dancing, glow-in-the-dark make-up, and attitude, mixed with some boring dialogue scenes.  It probably doesn’t quite add up (and could be confronting) but it is certainly a thing to behold.

 

Women of the Night (1948)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Women of the Night (1948) – K. Mizoguchi

It is rather surprising to see Kinuyo Tanaka in the role of a prostitute but the great actress easily pulls it off. She does begin the picture in a more typical role, downtrodden and then widowed wife and mother, and only later does she turn to prostitution. And now that I look back, I see that Tanaka played courtesans, geishas, and, yes, prostitutes throughout her career – the roles available to women may be few. So what is actually surprising here may be director Kenji Mizoguchi’s bluntness and the raw post-war milieu that the characters occupy (some have suggested the influence of Italian Neorealism). Mizoguchi was never one to shy away from showing men’s cruelty to women and their reactions to it: often stoic and determined and, in this case, vitriolic, as Tanaka’s Fusako seeks to spread syphilis to all men as revenge for the callous way she was cast aside by her boss in favour of her younger sister (this is after her husband and baby son died). There is a lot of melodrama along the way before we get to what may have been intended as an uplifting finale but which can’t easily wipe away the awfulness we have seen to that point. This is not the only film to document the social and economic problems of Japan at this time (1948) but it must be one of the harshest.

 

Popeye (1980)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

Popeye (1980) – R. Altman

I loves me some Popeye and so, inevitably, I finally decided to watch Robert Altman’s live action musical based on the Fleischer cartoons of the 1930s (and Segar’s comic strip before that). Amon (aged 9) watched with me.  It is a well-known flop but Robin Williams (still starring as Mork on TV at the time) perfectly captures the Sailor Man and his constant under-the-breath muttering and poor pronunskiation and who else could play Olive Oyl except Shelley Duvall (also in The Shining released the same year)? Yet and yet, Robert Altman is an interesting choice for director – as in McCabe and Mrs. Miller, there is a large cast of characters (only some of whom have recognisable parts – such as Wimpy or Bluto) and they mill about the single set town engaging in business not quite directly for the camera and with the director’s trademark overlapping (and sometimes hard to make out) dialogue. The pacing is all wrong for the first third of the film – too slow and taking too long to develop the characters we know and love – but eventually it finds its groove and even the meandering pace feels okay as the characterisations take hold and the cartoonish action sequences appear. The plot seems an amalgamation of a few Popeye tales – his search for his Pappy, the discovery of baby Sweet Pea – laced with some really lackadaisical songs (by Harry Nilsson). So, not really a success, but a seventies-feeling oddball. At any rate, Amon laughed when Popeye finally ate his spinach and bested Bluto with a truly gigantic punch. 

Thunderball (1965)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Thunderball (1965) – T. Young

At a certain point during Thunderball (Sean Connery’s fourth outing as James Bond, immediately after Goldfinger, 1964), I started to realise that the film was not much different from a Hitchcockian chase film (such as The 39 Steps, Saboteur, or North by Northwest). It’s all about the editing and great credit goes to director Terence Young and his team – the plot is just a schematic frame to hang the action sequences on. So, Bond is after a MacGuffin -- some atomic warheads stolen by S.P.E.C.T.R.E. and its #2 man, Largo (Adolfo Celi, wearing an eyepatch) -- and he moves from setpiece to setpiece, action-sequence to action-sequence, with barely any character development or even deeper plot development, between them. By this fourth entry, the tropes of the series are already there – Bond suavely seduces all of the women (whether on the side of good or evil), he drops double entendres wherever he can (especially with M’s secretary Ms. Moneypenny), he is a lethal opponent in a fight (by fists, poker, speargun, whatever is available – including gadgets obtained from Q), and he swiftly draws conclusions about the location of the MacGuffin and carries out a plan to secure it.  This time, the action takes place in the Bahamas, so there are beautiful locales and a lot of underwater action (perhaps too much, as it is difficult to tell who is who in their scuba masks). It’s fun but basically hollow at its core.

 

The Gorgon (1964)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

The Gorgon (1964) – T. Fisher

If one dates the advent of Hammer Horror from their production of Dracula in 1957 (also directed by Terence Fisher), then The Gorgon (1964) falls solidly into the heyday of the Studios. That said, The Gorgon feels like a lesser entry in the canon.  Possibly this is because the plot veers toward romance (between Barbara Shelley and Richard Pasco), neglecting the monster (a Medusa-like creature lurking in an old castle) for lengthy stretches of the film. Possibly this is because Peter Cushing isn’t on the side of good but instead rather turgidly defends the heroine (with whom he is also in love) who is suspected of somehow being in league with the monster. Possibly this is because Christopher Lee doesn’t show up until halfway through the film (as the hero’s mentor) and his charisma is sorely needed earlier (although Michael Goodliffe as the father of the hero also has a good turn early on – before he is turned to stone, of course). Whatever it is, the film lacks something. Nevertheless, it still succeeds on all those things that Hammer is great at:  production values, art/set design, and an air of mystery!