Monday, June 29, 2009
Transformers 2 may have the worst structured, most obnoxious, most infantile screenplay ever used for a mega-budget action film. I cannot stress how unbelievably, fascinatingly awful this film is on the levels of narrative, character and dialogue. I've read complaints that the story is incomprehensible, but that's not the problem. I followed the plot well enough. The problem is that the story is overstuffed and underdeveloped, with a wildly inconsistent tone. As a result, despite the film's fast pace and rather relentless forward momentum, it has no clear direction. Or maybe it's that it tries to go in all directions at once.
Let me try to give you some idea of the film's narrative corpulence. The film is, in turns, a sci-fi/action movie, a comedy, a romance, a war movie, a disaster movie, an homage to Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and an Indiana Jones-esque treasure hunt. The film begins with an epilogue set, according to Wikipedia, in 17,000 BC, and ends with a massive, 30 minute long battle in modern day Egypt. The first action sequence reintroduces us to the military characters from the first film, only to shove them off to the periphery for the rest of the film. The real main character is again Sam Witwicky, now heading off to college. His story involves a shard of the All Spark (which if you've forgotten what this was from the first film, you're out of luck because part 2 never bothers to explain it) which turns all of his kitchen appliances into evil transformers and somehow psychically implants data into his head, but before that sinks in it's off to college where a Decepticon (evil transformer) disguises as a girl and tries to seduce him, and then other Decepticons try to abduct him to steal the info in his brain, but the Autobots (good transformers) save him and he goes on an adventure with his girlfriend and college roommate to find an artifact that can defeat the Decepticons, and along the way John Turturro's character from the first film joins them and becomes a good guy this time even though he was an asshole in part 1, and eventually they are teleported to Egypt by a bad transformer turned good, oh and also at some point Optimus Prime (lead good transformer) dies and they have to bring him back to life. (Exhale). Meanwhile, the Decepticons awaken an ancient Decepticon called the Fallen who plots to destroy our sun, and he brings back to life Megatron (bad guy from first film), and they blow up a bunch of cities and go on TV to announce their presence (people apparently don't know transformers exist despite their public brawls in part 1) an action which never seemed to pay off in the film and...
And on and on and on. I'm not barely touching the tip of the iceberg here; there's enough plot for 5 Transformers sequels. It's like watching someone try to spin a hundred plates, only instead of keeping the plates spinning the person lets them fall and replaces them with another plate.
That's not the worst part, though. The worst part is the humor. When Transformers 2 isn't all those other things I mentioned, it is a vile, stupid, frenetic comedy. Probably 30% of this movie is like the worst, most expensive sitcom never made. People bitched about the dumb jokes in the first film, but I would argue it at least fit the film's silly, toy-commercial, adolescent tone. What's amazing about the sequel is the volume of the attempted comedy. (I mean that both in terms of amount and in terms of its auditory properties). Imagine watching a Naked Gun style laff-a-minute movie where absolutely all of the jokes fail. Transformers 2 throws a new joke out every 30 seconds or so, and none of them are funny. The humor ranges from infantile bodily function and slapstick jokes (robot humping a leg, robot farting, robots cracking wise in silly voices a la a bad cartoon, guy who gets hit in balls a lot) to juvenile sex and drug jokes (robot with testicles, mom eating a pot brownie and going crazy and talking about hearing her son "bust his cherry").
Most offensive is the stereotyping. I know Michael Bay has had a penchant in the past for broad stereotypes making wise cracks, but in his other films it seemed more benign. This film feautures a pair of ignorant, obnoxious, trash talking robots who speak in stereotypically black voices and spout off shit about busting caps in people's asses and whatnot. One of the robots even has huge buck teeth, one of which is a gold tooth. I can't believe no one at the studio vetoed this. What next, an effeminate, limp-wristed transformer making jokes about getting rear-ended by other cars?
(One part that did make me laugh: Bay treats us to a shot of two dogs jumping away from an exploding dog house, which works a sort of parody of an image we've seen in countless other action movies).
What little human interest there is involves a subplot about the main character's girlfriend thinking he cheated on her, but it's all really a misunderstanding etc etc. The same shit you've seen in a million other movies and TV shows. Even if it wasn't all so obnoxious already, you'd end up hating all of the characters by default because Bay has apparently directed the cast to shout all of their lines at the top of their lungs, as fast as they can. It's all so loud and breathless that there were many times I frankly could not understand what people were saying.
So yeah, narratively speaking, Transformers 2 is a mess. It is stupid, sloppy, and borderline offensive.
I can't dismiss Transformers 2. Not completely. As much of a big fucking mess as it is, some of the film is spectacular. And not just in the sense that they had a lot of money to throw into special effects. Many sequences in the movie are notably, memorably well constructed on an audio/visual level. Some moments even approach brilliance.
It got me thinking a lot about the old content vs. form debate. (XTC vs. Adam Ant). The way I see it, most film critics train their focus nearly exclusively to the content, i.e. plot, dialogue, character. In most reviews I read, the form is ignored or given little more than lip service. Just look at all the recent Star Trek reviews that rightly praised the pleasurable elements of the plot and performances, while mainly ignoring several distracting flaws in the visual storytelling. This kind of reviewing is understandable to the degree that it is much more difficult to discuss, say, the editing or camera movements of a film you've only seen once than it is to discuss the storyline. I know I'm guilty of it myself when talking about movies.
Yet it sometimes strikes me that we've gotten to the point where many reviewers place the importance of story over that of storytelling. How many times have you read complaints along the lines of "it was well made but lacking in depth" in a review? Shouldn't "well made" count for more than that? Doesn't being "well made" add depth to a film?
I'm not arguing for pure formalism. I want movies to have a great story, great characters, great dialogue, all that. (Especially if it is a film in a more traditional style, or conforming to a certain genre). But none of that stuff is unique to film. You can tell a great story with great characters in a book, in a song, in a comic, as an anecdote, and so on. The mix of sounds and visuals, framing, camera movement, editing... this is the stuff that makes films special. The way the story is told is at least as important as what is being told. Form is as important as content. Or, perhaps, form IS content. How the camera films a character speaking (and why the filmmakers chose to do it that way) is as important to the meaning of the film as what the character is actually saying.
I've seen plenty of smaller films, be they art films or experimental films or whatever, that de-emphasize narrative concerns and play up the form, but it's not really common in our mainstream. American mainstream films are very much plot driven. Over the years, I've dreamed that some day someone will make a great action movie (or whatever) that completely eschews logical narrative in favor of formalist spectacle. We've gotten a little closer, with films like Shoot 'Em Up, but even that one still feels the need to hit obligatory plot points and character scenes, so we're not there yet. I've joked with my friends that I'd like to see Hollywood make Aliens vs Termintors, a movie that would be all action, special effects and spectacle with no dialogue or discernible characters. Even better would be a movie with no recognizable plot at all that simply treats us to a series of breathtaking visuals of carnage.
What I'm saying is, there are moments in Transformers 2, when the exposition is put on pause and the emphasis switches to action, that seemed like the movie I've dreamed of.
Not everyone will grant me this, but Michael Bay and company have crafted some excellent action sequences in Transformers 2. I wouldn't call any of them exciting or thrilling, but on the level of spectacle and visual pleasure there is amazing stuff on display. The frequent complaint I've read about Bay's action is that the cuts are too fast, and the subjects of the shots (especially in the case of the transformers) are often filmed too close-up and thus become incomprehensible. Bay has been guilty of that in that past, I remember that being a problem some times in the first Transformers, but I don't really think he makes that mistake here. In fact, compared to some of the fast-cutting action scenes we've had of late, be they well constructed (Bourne Ultimatum) or hard to follow (Quantum of Solace), Bay admirably holds a lot of shots for more than a split second. And rather than over-using close-ups, I had the sense that he often pulled the camera back to cram as much spectacle in to each shot as possible.
Now, personally I'm a bigger fan of the Spielbergian school of action, which is clear and concise, and is less dependant on sensory overload. It also places more emphasis on being character driven, the idea being that if we care about the characters then we are more emotionally invested in the action and hence it becomes more thrilling. When people complain about not giving a shit about the action scenes in Transformers because they don't care about the characters, I understand what they mean. Nonetheless, in Bay's finest moments, he uses sound and image to create sequences that are absorbing and sometimes awe-inspiring. We could argue the merits of spectacle; personally I think it can be a powerful use of the medium.
Some of the reviews I've read for Transformers 2 complain that there was too much action and not enough story. Ironically, the action scenes are the only parts of the movie that work narratively. For example, there is a transformer fight scene in the woods that has a beginning, middle, and end, has a clear goal and purpose, has rising and falling action. I felt it was constructed in way that that the audience understood who was doing what and where, we understood where tiny Sam was in relation to the giant robots, and it effectively cut back and forth between his attempted escape with Optimus Prime fighting the Decepticons.
(Of course, I've only seen the film once, and it's not on DVD so I can't get any screen grabs, which makes it difficult to build a strong argument on this point.)
There's other good shit, too. I especially enjoyed the sequence where a bunch of marbles roll into a top secret base and transform into a little flying robot to steal the All Spark shard. It's a cool looking and engaging sequence. If it was released separately as its own short film, I could see people praising it. Trapped inside the behemoth of Transformers 2, stuff like this tends to go unnoticed.
My favorite parts of the film were when it strayed entirely from its dopey humor and ADHD plot, threw logic out the window for good measure, and focused on audio/visual spectacle, a spectacle sometimes so strange and intricate that it was borderline surreal. Scenes at the Fallen's home base, somewhere up in space and decorated with weird, goo-filled sacks that seem to birth new transformers (or something) almost felt abstracted from the rest of the film. Best of all might have been where Sam has a near death experience, and inexplicably finds himself in some sort of robo-Valhalla, a scene which is unexpectedly majestic and beautiful. (And brief).
And I took great pleasure in looking at the robots themselves, watching them unwind and unfold. I loved watching the appliances in Sam's kitchen transform into deadly robots. And I loved the way the dangling metal slats off of one robot's face suggested a robot beard. And plenty of other details like that. You could argue that this is more of a testament to the film's huge special effect budget. Certainly I'd agree that much of the credit goes to the FX team and not to Bay himself. But let's not diminish the amount of creativity in this film just because of its budget.
The film becomes less defensible in the final act. On the one hand, the climactic, epic action scene that wraps the film up seems like the kind of plot-free mayhem I was earlier praising. Pity that it involves the worst action in the entire film. Mostly it consists of repetitive explosions and punching robots, with little sense of progression or momentum. It's tedious. And the final battle between Optimus and the Fallen is brief and anti-climactic.
Ultimately Transformers 2 is not the great narrative-eschewing extravaganza I've dreamed of. There are transcendent moments, no doubt. Like I said, I don't always need a good story or characters to love a movie, but Transformers 2 spends way too much time and energy on it's uninvolving plot, uninteresting characters and unsuccessful attempts at humor. I'd be willing to overlook these problems if the film wasn't so insistent on shoving them down my throat. Somewhere in the 2 1/2 hours of Transformers 2 there might be a 90 minute movie I can get behind. In the final analysis, I'm fascinated with the film, but I can't support it.
Friday, June 12, 2009
a.k.a. Ahh ah ah AHHH ah... I know this much is Truffaut.
By proxy, Shenan has become something of a shut-in movie nerd like me. Or, at least, she's remarkably tolerant of my habits and spends a lot of time with me when I'm being a shut-in movie nerd. One of the things I like to encourage, to make my boringness seem more fun, is for us to work on some theme in our movie-viewing for a little while. The themes have been as specific as going through the Dirty Harry series, and as vague as watching a bunch of Spanish-language movies.
So when Shenan expressed interest in watching Jules and Jim back in January when it came on TCM, I jumped at the chance to parlay this interest into an excuse to watch a shitload of Truffaut movies. Back in college I had seen Jules and Jim, The 400 Blows and Day For Night, and had always meant to make my way back to Truffaut some day. I had squeezed in Shoot the Piano Player during my Film Noir Month in September last year, but otherwise hadn't watched anything of his in years.
To my elation, Shenan got jazzed by Truffaut and we ended up plowing through a ton of them over the last few months. The following post isn't really a major analysis of the films, but more of a brief diary where we'll write some blurbs on the films we watched in the order we watched them.
Jules and Jim
Dan - We recorded this one off of Turner Classic Movies at Shenan's request, and I was eager to see the movie again after 3 or so years. In a rather unbelievable twist of fate, the recording cut off moments before a rather shocking event just minutes before the end of the film... if you've seen it before, you'll know what I mean. I don't think Shenan fully realized how important the last few minutes were, and wasn't as manic as I was about tracking down a copy to watch. It turned out that the DVD at the video store was already checked out (I'm guessing the same thing happened to someone else who recorded it off TV), and it was a week or two before we were able to watch the ending.
Otherwise, returning to this film was a joy, and I appreciated it a lot more now than I did back in the day. I enjoyed Jules and Jim when I saw it in college, but I think I was so blinded by my hatred of the character of Catherine that I missed much of what the film was doing. Catherine is a bi-polar narcissist who enjoys playing cruel mind games and in a sense dominates much of the film, yet I see more clearly this time how the heart of the story is still Jules and Jim and their friendship. When I first saw the film, I felt anger towards the protagonists at playing willing victims to Catherine's emotional violence, but I no longer see that as detracting from the film. The men fall in love with the image or the idea of Catherine without ever truly understanding who she is. Their punishment is not deserved, but I do believe it is caused by the way they see Catherine as an ideal or an object and not as the flawed human being she is.
Truffaut has a way of telling stories that are sad and unsentimental, yet still infusing them with a lot of warmth, humor and humanism, and Jules and Jim is one of the best examples.
Shenan - I also think that the film may be a sort of evaluation on the trends of his generation (well, any generation, really, but specific to him, the things that were happening in the youth of his culture at the time), a la bucking convention and engaging in social and romantic relationships that went against the normal conventions. In a way there are a lot of advantages the characters draw from this, like being able to relate intimately to each other in ways that would not have been allowed (at least, not to each and every one of the others) had they stuck to the conventional man-and-wife monogamy foundation. But the movie, especially the ending, I think, strongly suggests that maybe these conventions are there for a reason. That reason being not destroying each other’s lives. In short, that conventions are in place because, while not perfect, they are the best system we’ve come across to gain the most while sacrificing the least, and keep things stable. It’s fine to explore other ways of doing things, but these conventions were not just slapped together without any thought. In very abstract and broad terms.
The Wild Child
Dan - After watching Wild Child, I dismissed it as good but nothing special. But as time has passed, the movie has stuck with me, I find myself still thinking about certain aspects of it. Which is usually the sign of an excellent movie, and I'm already beginning to re-evaluate it. More amusingly, one detail in the film has become something of an in-joke for Shenan and I. The titular wild child is a boy who was abandoned in the woods at a young age and grew up as an animal, and the film details a scientist's attempt to study and civilize the boy (it is based on a true story). The wild child can't speak and develops the habit, when he's hungry, of tapping an empty bowl against other people's legs when he wants food. Now, in our apartment, Shenan and I have taken to the habit of tapping an empty glass against the other person when we're out of beer.
Shenan - And saying “lait” in a high-pitched voice. Our cats have even picked up on this (the tapping), to the extent that they can. This was probably my least favorite of the Truffaut films (though it wasn’t bad by any stretch of the imagination, just not my favorite). I don’t know exactly why, but it felt kind of flat to me. Maybe because there didn’t seem to be much at stake? I mean, Truffaut’s films are usually very humanist and deal with human relationships and emotions, and this one…I mean, what were really the consequences of socializing or not socializing this boy? The main character (aka Truffaut) obviously finds it a challenging and intriguing task, but never seems to move beyond the scientific curiosity with which he initially approaches it. Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe I’d have to go back and watch it for emotional connection I probably missed.
The 400 Blows
Dan - My personal favorite of the 15 or so Truffaut films I've seen, and perhaps my favorite film about childhood. This was Truffaut's first film and in it you can already see many of his common themes appearing: conflicted views of women/sexuality, casual dismissal of authority, empathy for the lives of children. In a way, the movie sets the stage for the rest of his films that we watched, not least because we followed this by watching the Antoine Doinel series, Truffaut's cycle of films that followed The 400 Blows's protagonist over a period of 20 years.
Dan - Sadly, we never saw Antoine and Collette, the 2nd Antoine Doinel film (a short film he made about 5 years after The 400 Blows) as it wasn't available on Netflix while we were watching these. Stolen Kisses is the 3rd film in the series (and the 2nd that is feature length), and it catches up with Antoine 10 years after the original. As I recall, this was the most overtly comedic of the series, more in the spirit of the good fun, but still with some dark undertones.
Shenan - The scenes between Antoine and Christine’s parents were particularly funny.
Bed and Board
Dan - Truffaut does a ballsy thing here and starts to show Antoine's flighty, whimsical behavior as having a lot of negative real world consequences. In fact, Antoine is a flat out dick in much of Bed and Board, something I bet disappointed a lot of Truffaut fans at the time but I felt was a rewarding creative risk. Especially when you consider that Antoine is a supposedly semi-autobiographical character; perhaps Truffaut was taking a hard, critical look at himself. This entry is also more audacious visually (even using stop-motion for one strange image of rapidly blooming flowers), and as a result I would probably consider it my favorite of the sequels, even if it is the least likable.
Shenan - This was my favorite too. It’s a rare thing when you can empathize and care about the main character while simultaneously being annoyed and slightly disgusted by their behavior. Well, disgusted is the wrong word. But the feeling you get when you’ve been cheated on. Which we get because we also empathize with Christine. I guess it’s a movie that doesn’t call on us to judge the characters, just get caught up in their relationship and affairs.
Love on the Run
Dan - The final Antoine Doinel film, made 20 years after The 400 Blows, works hard to regain some of Antoine's charm, without completely excusing his antics. What I liked about this one is that it seemed to have equal measures of romanticism and cynicism. There's a somewhat exhilarating ending where everything comes together, and fate is implied to have played a hand, and Antoine is in the embrace of a beautiful woman... and yet there is still a sense that this isn't the end, only a repeating cycle, and that Antoine will make the same mistakes with women over and over again. It's a happy ending with an asterisk.
The other interesting thing here is that Truffaut frequently uses flashbacks by cutting to clips from the previous 4 films. The result is mixed. At their worst, the flashbacks feel narratively lazy or like filler (especially in one case where we are treated to a lengthy scene from Bed and Board), like a cheap horror movie sequel that needs to patch in a extra 5 minutes to reach feature length. At their best, however, the flashbacks highlight Antoine's emotional growth (or lack thereof), underline thematic connections between the films, and create an overall sense that time in film and perhaps real life is an illusion. (i.e. even as Anotine now kisses his lover in a dizzying embrace, he still exists as the 13 year old boy riding an amusement park ride. The moments are simultaneous, not separate). And if nothing else, it's fascinating to watch how the actor, Jean-Pierre Leaud, who played Antoine in all the films, really aged 20 years in front of the camera.
Shenan - I felt the same way about the flashbacks. I really felt I didn’t need them to the extent they were in there, having seen the previous movies. It got really tedious for me, and I felt like they took up maybe half the movie (maybe I’m wrong, but that’s the impression I got). I felt a little cheated, I was getting a lot of re-used material that served as a stand-in for a hefty percentage of the new stuff needed to be feature length.
But having said that, I also realize what he was doing with it. And I do agree with them emphasizing his evolution, the saturation of the present with the experiences of our past, etc. I just wish there was a different way to do it. Which I don’t know if there is, since all the prequels already exist.
And it does have his touch of charming romanticism in it, even if it did have the whole “all these people’s lives just happen to intertwine in all these ways they don’t know about and wouldn’t you know it, they’re all destined to be lovers, isn’t it convenient that my ex-wife knows your unrequited love’s sister’s co-worker’s cousin’s cat’s veterinarian” angle.
Dan - Surprisingly, what I thought would be one of Truffaut's best (it looked like a return to 400 Blows-esque material) turned out to be my least favorite of his films. Small Change is not without its merits and charms, but it wasn't as funny, moving or as evocative of childhood as 400 Blows, perhaps because it seems to gloss over the pain of growing up in favor of emphasizing the nostalgia.
Shenan - Uh…why do I have no memory of this one?
Dan - Ouch.
Dan - If Small Change sapped away a little bit (just a little, mind you) of my enthusiasm for Truffaut-con, then Mississippi Mermaid brought it back in full force. Truffaut was a great admirer of Alfred Hitchcock, and this film is something of an homage. But instead of copying Hitchcock's style, Truffaut uses certain Hitchcockian story elements, motifs and visual strategies and infuses it with a distinctly Truffauldian attitude. As a result, he makes a top notch thriller that still stops to take the time to go over his usual obsessions and creates a unique and complex screen romance. It's not as tightly pieced together as a Hitchcock film, but it's looseness is part of the charm and doesn't diminish from the suspense or excitement.
Not to go off on too much of a tangent here, but I've also been attempting some due diligence by watching several Jean-Luc Godard films for the past month or two. And while I've come to a certain appreciation of his style, watching his films has mainly confirmed for me how much more I love Truffaut. Both filmmakers' attempts at genre films are a great example why. Godard's Breathless is ostensibly a gangster film, but it's more like an essay or a joke about gangster films. The film is funny and entertaining, and I appreciate the way Godard comments on the genre, mocking certain generic elements, but it in no way functions as an actual gangster movie. This is also true of his Alphaville, Band of Outsiders and Pierrot le Fou and the genres they supposedly represent. Truffaut's genre films, on the other hand, not only comment on their genres and function as film criticism like Godard's films, but they also work as genre films in their own right. Mississippi Mermaid subverts a lot of your expectations regarding the story structure, characters and visual style of crime/thrillers, and is also a great thriller to boot.
Back to my main point, this is a great film. Truffaut made a genre film, heavily influenced by Hitchcock, but without sacrificing his own point of view or personal touch. Note the way that Truffaut borrows one of the unused endings from Hitchcock's Suspicion. He's exploring the theme of idealized love that he's explored in many other films, and using the genre to find a new, darker take on the material.
Shenan - Sort of the opposite of Jules and Jim, in a way. Propagating or romanticizing the act of eschewing all societal conventions (and legal ones, too) for the sake of and idealized Love that, after all, is supposed to stand above all other things in the end anyway, isn’t it? Not love, mind you, but Love, with a capital L (sort of like my…or, Stephen Fry’s…distinction between Poetry and poetry). Anyhow. It was very suspenseful and I found myself engaged similarly to the way I get drawn into a Hitchcock film. Even his style of filming and using setting/isolation of two people together in the end feels like suspicion (or Vertigo, or Rear Window, or any other number of his films).
On another note, I think genre films can sometimes get a similar bad rap to the one that genre novels get. Maybe not as much, because film is excused more when it is made solely to entertain (you know, think Jackass, Borat, Transformers 2, etc) and not to try to accomplish anything else, whereas books/novels/stories/poetry what have you are, I think, considered an “art” or at least, the good “literature” is, and it is what everything is supposed to strive for. But there can be some great writing and great plot construction and characterization and craftsmanship in detective novels or Stephen King books or sci fi shit. And I like seeing someone like Truffaut make a genre film, be unafraid to make a genre film, and put his craftsman’s shine on it.
The Last Metro
Dan - Sort of a spiritual sequel to Day For Night, only about theater instead of film and heavier on plot. Typical of Truffaut, all the stuff in this movie about WWII and Nazism and the thriller elements are really just elaborate window dressing for a love triangle and a comedy/drama about a theater troupe. The one unexpected detail is that it grapples a bit with Jewish identity... I read somewhere that Truffaut was the illegitimate son of a Jewish man, a fact that Truffaut suspected but never confirmed until much later in his life. Parts of The Last Metro, with it's Jewish protagonist hiding from the Nazis, may be Truffaut's attempt at exploring this part of his heritage.
Shenan - I don’t have a lot to say about this one, but it was my favorite. I just found it the most intriguing and engaging. Simple as that.
Dan - Another Hitchcock homage, this time more in the comic-thriller vein. Part of the fun is the way he applies his usual strong women/immature men theme to the Hitchcock template, and casts Fanny Ardent (his girlfriend) in what's essentially the Cary Grant role, with a man playing the hapless heroine. Not as great of a mystery/thriller as Mississippi Mermaid, but a good fun way to end a career, as this turned out to be his last film.
Shenan - Oh yes, I almost didn’t remember this, then I did. I came in a half hour or so in, maybe that’s why I was a little fuzzy at first. I like the rogue, self-fashioned female detective angle on this. She reminded me a lot of Grace Kelly in Rear Window; she had that same spunk, I guess is the best word I can come up with for it. That same recklessness maybe in an attempt to prove something, but she can definitely handle herself, and she’s sharp.
The Story of Adele H.
Dan - Another Truffaut film notable for having a female lead, which was not usually the case. Emotionally, this was one of Truffaut's most powerful, about a woman's descent into obsessive love and eventually into madness. I've read a bit here and there about possible sexism and/or misogyny in Truffaut's films. But while The Story of Adele H. doesn't present a positive portrayal of a woman per se, it's clear that Truffaut feels a strong empathy for Adele, and our sympathy lies with her even as she goes off the deep end. It's one of those movies that is a little hard to watch at times because the emotions are painful and the character just keeps making it worse and worse on herself.
Shenan - Why don’t I remember this one either?
Dan - Ah yes, as I recall you fell asleep and missed this one.
The Man Who Loved Women
Dan - Kind of an extension of the Antoine Doinel series, perhaps about what Antoine would be like when he reached Truffaut's age, where it focuses on a flaky but lovable man who is too infatuated with women to commit or settle down. And like the Doinel films, it feels at least partially autobiographical. As with Love on the Run, it may be just a tad too forgiving or permissive of the character's sometimes cad-like behavior, but still casts a critical and perceptive eye at it's subject. And I cared enough that I felt unexpectedly moved by the film's ending. If this character is a surrogate for Truffaut himself, then this movie is Truffaut asking us to accept his flaws along with his virtues.
Shenan - It is pretty lovable. Though don’t you remember that IMDB made it sound like the venereal disease was the driving point of the movie, the plot point fulcrum on which all the events of the movie hinged? When it was just a small little thing that came up like 2/3 of the way through the movie?
Dan - Definitely not one of my favorite Truffauts, but it seems to have an unfair reputation as a bad movie. Although some of the production design and special effects are a little dated/corny, Truffaut mainly succeeds at creating a strange and unique future world, giving it a weird, dreamlike feel.
Shenan - I agree. I especially liked getting to see the world of the people who memorized the books at the end, who identified themselves by name as the piece of literature they’d memorized.
Shoot the Piano Player
Dan - As you can see in my post about it back during Noir Month, I was a little underwhelmed when I first saw Shoot the Piano Player. My esteem for it grew considerably on my second viewing. While not the triumph that Mississippi Mermaid is, it is still a highly entertaining and charming combination of crime movie ingredients and Truffauldian idiosyncrasies. I originally bitched about "weird stylistic touches and broad comedy" contradicting the more dramatic elements of the story. I now realize that the blend of styles is what makes Shoot the Piano Player so fun.
Shenan - Also, that guy has the worst luck with women. I’m just saying, no matter how much I loved him, I would not be this dude’s girlfriend, unless I wanted a death sentence.
Day For Night
Dan - Another one that I appreciated more after seeing it again. I soured on Day For Night a little back in college, but for reasons that weren't the film's fault. Two classes I took showed it in the same semester, about a week apart, and watching it a 2nd time so soon after just seeing it I was a bit restless and bored. I knew I liked it, but something about the experience tainted the film for me.
Coming back to the film now, I took much pleasure in how Truffaut's good natured, meta, movie-within-a-movie-about-the-making-of-a-movie Day For Night revels in the process and the artifice of filmmaking. This is Truffaut's busiest and most Altman-esque film in the way it juggles a large cast of characters within a somewhat relaxed narrative, and like Altman's films each subsequent viewing helps clarify all the characters and their connections. These kinds of movies can tend to be self-indulgant (even great ones like 8 1/2) so it's a testament to Truffaut's charm that Day For Night stays likable and relatable.
Shenan- I didn’t notice it before, but now I can kind of see it being Altman-esque. If it wouldn’t take like five hours to do, I might suggest a Nashville/Day for Night double feature. And if we hadn’t just watched those two within a couple weeks of now. Maybe some day. Anyway, not much to say here, except that it was light and funny and likeable. My favorite part is the cat. Some choice quotes- “We’ll wait until you can find me a cat that can act!” and “Throw it in!” I like to imagine that’s something that happens with regularity on movie sets that involve animals. When the animals don’t behave or aren’t good “actors,” you just hike them into the shot like a football and see what happens.
The Bride Wore Black
Dan - And so we wrapped up Truffaut-con 2K9 with The Bride Wore Black, a film I initially didn't think we'd get to see since it was not on Netflix or at the video store. Fortunately, I discovered while shopping for a Father's Day gift that Amazon had a used copy for $3, which I quickly snatched up.
Like Mississippi Mermaid and Confidentially Yours, this is a Hitchcockian thriller with a decidely Truffauldian spin. A woman goes around killing off men, for reasons not immediately clear, and there is a lot of suspsense and dark comedy in the way she sets her intricate plots in to motion. And unsuprisingly, Truffaut uses this premise to explore his typical obsessions with male/female relations... the heroine's murder plots often resemble dates or flirtations. There is also a sense in which the film is, not exactly feminist, but an attempt at female empowerment: the victims are all men who have done the heroine wrong, and seem to try to control or diminish her in other ways, until she eventually turns the tables and snuffs them out.
Shenan - It’s Hitchcockian, and also Kill Bill-ian. I definitely have a hard time imagining, having seen it now, that Quentin Tarantino hadn’t seen this film and didn’t count it as an influence at all when making Kill Bill. I liked this one quite a bit; the only part I found kind of hard to “suspend my disbelief” for, so to speak, at first was the part where the woman obviously looked nothing like the teacher and counted on the boy being so stupid and easily confused or easily swayed that he would start believing she was his teacher if she told him so. But note I said “at first.” I think Truffaut ended up handling it with a grace that really was honest to the way little kids think or get confused when they are supposed to trust adults to tell them what is real and what isn’t, by the way he sort of remained unconvinced that she was his teacher, but didn’t really care and just went along with it, then to the police insisted that “Ms. Becker” had been at his house, while never actually indicating that the woman at the school who really was his teacher had been at his house. It was like there were two Ms. Beckers that existed, both of whom were supposed to be his teacher, but they were still two separate people at the same time.
The other part that I thought maybe relied a little too much on things conveniently happening was planning out that whole thing where they played hide and seek, and then she goes to leave and refuses to stay and then realizes she’s “lost her ring” and thinks it’s in the closet because she played hide and seek there, and then somehow assumes that the father will insist on looking for it himself, and will climb all the way into the crawl space and she will lock him in there and happen to have duct tape and blah blah blah. I mean, how could she have know there was a crawl space there before she entered the house? I thought at first, actually, that maybe he tried to show this as a spur-of-the-moment plan, acted upon when she saw there was a closet, because she initially grabs a knife in the kitchen, and I thought maybe she was going to kill him with that, but then has a better idea once she starts feeling the house out. But then I remembered that was intentional, to make us think she was going to kill him with the knife, when actually she just uses it to cut the phone line. Meaning she never intended to use it to kill him at all. Meaning she had her plan from the beginning, presumably. I don’t know. It was a bit much to swallow.
But overall I really liked this one. I thought it was great. And I liked that he used a slightly older Jeanne Moreau, and didn’t just go for some hot young bombshell to play the sexy killer heroine. It gives the sexual relationship she and the painter start having a more real and honest feel to it too- that she’s not some seductress who any man would fall instantly in love with, but (though still not unattractive, I’ll grant you) a slightly older and imperfect woman who happens to make a real emotional and physical connection with this artist (who is a self-described skirt-chaser, but with her it’s different, etc etc).