Sunday, 14 August 2022

Celebrating Pier Paolo Pasolini's centenary - a Nine Film Retrospective at the Randwick Ritz - Session times and introductions

 


Pasolini: A Centenary Retrospective

We're celebrating the centenary of Italian director Pier Paolo Pasolini's birth 
by screening nine masterworks from this peerless provocateur.
Introduced by some of Sydney’s biggest fans of Pasolini’s films.


Brought to you by Ritz Cinemas in association with the Istituto Italiano di Cultura Sydney, 
Cinema Reborn, Cineteca Bologna and Fare Cinema


The Ritz, Randwick,
 Sundays from 16 October – 11 December at 4:00pm

Book here: https://www.ritzcinemas.com.au/events/pasolini-a-centenary-retrospective


Sunday, Oct 16. 4:00 pm. Accattone (1961). Introduced by Hon. Associate Professor Jane Mills (UNSW). With a production background in journalism, television and documentary film, Jane has written and broadcast widely on cinema, screen literacy, censorship, feminism, and human rights. She is a member of the Sydney Film Festival’s Advisory Panel and a Programmer for the Antenna Documentary Festival. She is co-convening this Pasolini retrospective with Angelica Waite.

Sunday, Oct 23. 4:00 pm. Mamma Roma (1962). Introduced by Associate Professor Giorgia Alù,Chair of the Italian Studies Department at the University of Sydney. Her research interests include modern and contemporary Italian literature, Italian cultural and social history, comparative literature and visual studies. Publications include: Journeys Exposed: Women's Writing, Photography, and Mobility andBeyond the traveller's gaze: expatriate ladies writing in Sicily(1848-1910).

Sun, Oct 30. 4:00 pm. Love Meetings/Comizi d’amore (1965). Introduced by Jessica Ellicott, a film critic and programmer at Golden Age Cinema & Bar. Her writing on film has featured in The Big Issue, SBS Movies, Runway Journal and 4:3. Jessica’s experience in the film industry spans independent distribution, festivals and media, gained across roles at Transmission Films, SBS Movies and Sydney Film Festival.

Sunday, Nov 6. 4:00 pm. The Gospel According to Matthew/Il vangelo secondo Matteo (1964). Introduced by Associate Professor Bruce Isaacs who teaches Film Studies at the University of Sydney and is interested in a range of film studies-related topics: histories of film film aesthetics and style, critical approaches to film production, film and popular culture.Bruce regularly posted articles on 'The Great Movie Scenes' and now on 'Close-up.' See all his articles at:  https://theconversation.com/profiles/bruce-isaacs-106382/articles

Sun, Nov 13. 4:00 pm.  The Hawks and the Sparrows/Uccellacci e uccellini (1966)Introduced by Dr Nicky Hannan, a sessional lecturer in Film Studies at the University of Sydney and a passionate lover of Pasolini’s work. He writes on cinematic temporality, mood, and affect, and is particularly interested in intersections between literature, philosophy, and cinema.

Sun, Nov 20. 4:00 pm.  Oedipus Rex/Edipo re (1967). Introduced by James Vaughan who is a Sydney-based filmmaker and a committee member of Cinema Reborn Film Festival. His debut feature, Friends and Strangers (2021) was the first Australian film to premiere in the  International Film Festival Rotterdam's Tiger Competition and was named by Sight & Sound as one of the 50 best films of 2021.

Sunday, Nov 27. 4:00 pm.  Medea (1969). Introduced by Angelica Waite, a committee member of Cinema Reborn Film Festival. With a BA (Hons) in Film Studies, her Honours research centred around Abbas Kiarostami’s Close-Up (1990), exploring dynamics of performativity, transformation, and generative processes of ‘truthmaking’ in documentary film. She’s a co-founder of The Film Group, a collaborative screening and publication project focussing on documentary and artists' moving image and is co-convening this Pasolini retrospective with Jane Mills.

Sun, Dec 4. 4:00 pm. Pigsty/Porcile (1969). Introduced by Janice Tong, by day the managing director for a tech media company, and by night a cinephile. Her thesis was on love, time and memory in the films of Wong Kar-wai and she has published on Wong in Focus: 25 New Takes, on Georges Bataille and Pier-Paolo Pasolini in the philosophy journal Contretemps, and on Claude Sautet in Senses of Cinema

Sun, Dec 11. 4:00 pm.  Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom/Salò o le 120 giornate di Sodoma (1975). Introduced by Professor Catharine Lumby, Chair of the Media and Communications Department at the University of Sydney. Her expertise includes matters relating to gender equality, cultural diversity, sexual violence prevention, young people and media, social media, and media content regulation.

In addition to these screenings, 
there will be a Roundtable Discussion
at the Italian Cultural Institute, Clarence Street, Sydney

6:00 pm on Friday 4 November.

 

We are also pleased to announce the launch of Writing on Burning Papera beautiful celebration of the life and work of Pasolini. published by Fireflies Press.This book brings together a collection of written and visual contributions from a host of contemporary filmmakers as well as a new translation of Pasolini's poem Poet of Ashes.

The launch will take place at the Ritz Cinema on Sunday 11 December

immediately following the screening of Salò.







Saturday, 13 August 2022

The Current Cinema - Barrie Pattison plumbs the extremes and discovers EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH (IRRÉDUCTIBLE, Jérôme Commandeur, France, 2022)


Palace's release of writer-director-star Jérôme Commandeur's  Irréductible/Employee of the Month is one of its first outings off home base. It's another retreaded European hit, struck off Gennaro Nunziante’s big earner 2016 Quo Vado. The Frog Speak copy seems to be repeating the success.

It's another one in the line of a star comic as a Frenchman who finds himself out of place in exotic settings. Think Pierre Richard in La chèvre, Belmondo in L'Homme de Rio,Montand in Le sauvage or Gerard Jugnot in Special Correspondents - an honorable tradition.

 

This one comes framed by scenes of bald Commandeur making his way through the rainforest in Stéphane Pezerat’s clapped out local taxi and being taken captive by the most dangerous tribe in the territory. Shaman Jean-Louis Loca, who can see men’s souls, demands he justify his life or be incinerated,  fire being stoked at the center of their menacing  circle of spectators. 

Commandeur had settled into the security and smalll time graft of the French public service,  joining in the office slacking activities the film montages.

However Ministerial Candidate Gérard Darmon appears on TV announcing a cut back on state spending. The room in the Town Hall empties as employees exempt from the cuts leave, with the handicapped fellow worker hobbling up the aisle last, leaving Jérôme alone. On the advice of  Bolshy union adviser Christian Clavier, he refuses ambitious business suit blonde administrator Pascale Arbillot’s escalating Termination Pay Out offers and she re-locates him to increasingly impossible locations. These Yes Minister routines are over familiar and weak.

The film changes direction when Jerome gets a polar region posting and he finds himself dumped by helicopter in the storm. When his transport to the base shows up, he finds he is to be Tranquilliser Darting polar bears for fetching blonde scientist Laetitia Dosch. His first shot actually knocks down the indignant animal and she explains that sperm is a better indicator than blood. He proudly declares his work a success climaxed by giving an ours polar a hand job.


Writer/Director/Star Jérôme Commandeur


To his delight  Dosch invites him along on holiday only for him to find her nice Scandinavian timber place filled with the children she had by previous lovers of which the last, Ezio Sutter, is still wandering about the house naked. (Where have we seen this before?) Turns out they all get along. Jerome goes to stubby Sutter’s marriage, to a woman who towers over him and wins Dosch, taking her back to his posting in his old home town where the blended family puts off the  administrators, who place the kids in different schools while Jerome is put to administer an intimidating prison. 


Clavier watching Castro speeches on TV in bed isn’t of all that much use but our hero’s training in graft means he’s a success moving contraband to the rapists and murderers. The film is picking up at this point.

Arbillot keeps upping the payoff and Dosch quits the drab urban setting for a post in a Jungle hospital. When he joins her, only to find the place run by impoverished volunteers, Jerome turns the situation to his advantage.

Pascale Arbillot

Despite the "I’ve been here before" feeling, this one gets better and more engaging as it goes. Cast is winning and the film making is polished. Throw in unexpected gags like Jerome praying to the Swiss Flag sign that pivots to form a cross in the blizard or the television playing former adoptive Russian citizen Gerard Depardieu rhapsodising on the attractions of France.

 

That's about as edgy as it gets. This one is not must-see world cinema but it does fill in time quite nicely.



Thursday, 11 August 2022

Sixty Years of International Art Cinema: 1960-2020 - Part Six (1) of Bruce Hodsdon's history - The Sixties, the United States and Orson Welles

 Part 6: The Sixties   


The sixties was a watershed decade for the post classical feature film in America and the art film in Europe. In Asia the postwar years saw the transition to a modern Japanese cinema and the emergence of a state-supported parallel art cinema in India inspired by the international success of Satyajit Ray's Apu trilogy. Latin American cinemas attracted worldwide attention for the first time following local political initiatives beginning in the 50s given further impetus by the new Cuban cinema. Two pioneering films by Ousmane Sembene in 1963-5 were an inspiration for other credible indigenous filmmakers in sub-Saharan Africa. 

 

A cinephile’s foreword to the Sixties                                                                                                                      

My first encounter with an art feature film was at the local 'independent' as a 13 year old. By 1960, my first year at university, art cinema was associated with sub-titles and “foreignness,” the director  - Bergman, Antonioni, Cocteau – as author closer to the equivalent of a novelist 'writing on film' than to an orchestral conductor or theatre director. There were not only the globally recognised film 'authors' - Chaplin, Disney and Hitchcock, there was Billy Wilder and David Lean. Short seasons of their films with the supporting Annotations on Film (cover below) were mounted by Melbourne University Film Society in first term in the Union Theatre, 1960. There was also a history of cinema to be discovered at MUFS Friday night members' screenings of silent classics on 16mm with only the sound of the projector in the spartan viewing conditions of a university lecture theatre. This was supplemented by an Eisenstein retrospective - my first film festival - at the Coburg Teachers College. There were the regular visits to downtown art houses, the Savoy and Australia cinemas: Bergman, Antonioni, Resnais, Fellini, Satyajit Ray, Cocteau et al.  The adjacent Carlton cinema ('the Bughouse') screened an eclectic mix of art and mainstream recent releases. In addition to  Annotations I had Arthur Knight's paperback history of cinema The Liveliest Art,Roger Manvell's Film and the Public,Cocteau on the Film from the library,the English monthly Films and Filming and the irregularly Melbourne-published  Film Journal discovered at the local newsagent. In addition to his film reviews, the first specialist film critic in the country, Colin Bennett, had a weekly film column in the Saturday's ‘Age’ newspaper. In my second year I already presumed to write a 1500 word essay, “The Film as Art,” for the college magazine in which, in those nascent days of confusion and controversy surrounding the concept of the director as auteur, I referred to “Brando's The Fugitive Kind in a premature 'launch by default' of the claim for the actor as auteur to the neglect of Anna Magnani, Tennessee Williams, Sidney Lumet and Boris Kaufman.

 



 Part 6: (1)                                                                                                                                               

Orson Welles (64*) b.1915  

Alfred Hitchcock (64) b.1899   

Stanley Kubrick (65) b.1928  

Elia Kazan (71) b.1918   

Arthur Penn (69) b.1922  

George A Romero b.1940   

Shirley Clarke b.1919                                                                    

 

Note*:  Inclusion as one of International Film Guide’s '5 directors of the year' indicated above by the year in parenthesis.

****************************

 

In making the selection of auteurs to span the accelerating decline of Hollywood's studio system through the 60s, five of the list above came almost immediately to mind with the later addition of the  'inspired amateur', from Pittsburgh, George Romero, and of Shirley Clarke an independent filmmaker in New York.  All seven were gifted outsiders in different ways. Hitchcock and Kazan were immigrants, Kubrick at his peak chose to work in exile. Welles's career embodied the romantic notion of the artist working within art cinema breaking the rules in order to “express his innermost self ” as opposed to the director working successfully in the studio system accepting the rules of classical cinema. (Elsaesser 159-61).   

 

Hitchcock and Oscar

Hitchcock's underlying moral seriousness harnessed by his technical mastery but down-played by a projected persona of performative quirkiness, was never recognised by Hollywood with an Oscar for direction. He was, on the eve of his death, finally honoured with a Lifetime Achievement Award in 1979. After making rather perfunctory acknowledgment of the accolades Hitch drolly simulated the role expected of him, in this instance of a thief whisking away the honorary Oscar cloaked by his dinner jacket. 

 

Similarly unrecognised by Hollywood, Orson Welles projected on the screen from Europe to the audience and host John Huston, graciously accepted his honorary Oscar in 1971 as “precious because it comes, not from critics or the people but from people who love movies.” He accepted it “not for what I've done but for what I hope to do.” He was he said [still] “hoping to make some movies that deserve it.”   

 

Orson Welles

In the transition to the new Hollywood, Arthur Penn's embrace of modernity took a lead in challenging the rules of classical Hollywood's transparent storytelling. Bonnie and Clyde is nominated by Paul Monaco as one of the three 'landmark films' made in 1967 (the others: Cool Hand Luke and The Graduate). This was further amplified by the success of Easy Rider(1969) following the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy and the events surrounding the 68 Democratic National Convention in Chicago. Monaco refers to their box office success as being primarily with late teens and younger adults based on their shared identification with the antiheroes and outsiders in these films “rooted in a widely shared sense of alienation from middle class American society.” (182-8)

 

Citizen Kane

Andrew Sarris attributed to Mark Shivas (co-founder of 'Movie' magazine in 1962), the observation that Welles was concerned with the ordinary feelings of extraordinary people and Hitchcock with the extraordinary feelings of ordinary people.  “Whereas Welles flourished in baroque settings, Hitchcock functioned in commonplace settings. To a limited extent, at least, Wellesian cinema is as much the cinema of the exhibitionist as Hitchcockian cinema is the cinema of the voyeur.”

 

Welles and Sound 

No two directors have had more written about their life and work. David Bordwell argues “that Hitchcock and Welles did more than change the cinema of the forties. They showed directors who came after them that the forties motivations could be revised with unflagging ingenuity” (Forties 461).

 

Dudley Andrew suggests that Orson Welles(1915-85) “knew the auteur theory in advance and set out to make a series of films whose variety would make sense to later critics intent on their unity.” As referred to above it is no accident that Welles's 'consistently inconsistent' feature films are book-ended by his only fully realised works in his lifetime: the psychological density of fictionalised biography (Citizen Kaneandreverie” (Chimes at Midnight), to borrow again from Sarris. 

 

John Huston, The Other Side of the Wind

The production of Welles's 'final film', The Other Side of the Wind, was spread over 48 years (1970-2018) to be completed more than two decades after his death. Joseph McBride quotes Welles's description of his film in 1962: “this will be a film about death, the portrait of decadence, ruin.” Michel Legrand described his score for the film as “a requiem.” Stylistically it is a satire of classic and new Hollywood, and European sixties art cinema. Except for the theme of death, Wind is consistently inconsistent in that each Welles' film is stylistically different from the preceding ones while the themes recur throughout. In this, Welles's oeuvre resembles Kubrick's.

 

Welles was the first American director in the sound era to break with the notion that plot visualised through  style were the invisible servants of the story. As Jean-Pierre Coursodon puts it, Welles “made form the content of his films” marking him as the first modern director (vol 2 367). The innovative deep focus style of Citizen Kane was debated from its first release. While depth of field in cinematography was not new, the availability of a new blimp-less camera in 1934 (of which Gregg Toland was the first user) was combined with the introduction of lens coatings in 1939. Both combined with faster film and shorter focal length lenses allowing the achievement of greater depth of field with any given light level thus enabling Toland's work with depth of field, prior to Citizen Kane, on films with William Wyler and John Ford 1937-40. 

Orson Welles, Citizen Kane
 

Coursodon points to the paradox that Welles's influence was allegedly immense, yet considers that only his first two pictures, Kane andThe Magnificent Ambersons, can be said to have been “influential” (ibid). In challenging the primacy of the story over style in classical narrative, Welles re-invoked the spirit of creative formal invention that was alive in silent cinema. Griffith's genius changed the face of storytelling on film while von Stroheim's refusal to accept the economic and logistical limitations of the medium resulted in his career as a director ending in frustration and failure. Welles managed to complete only one film as he intended, never to be given the opportunity by four of the Hollywood majors (MGM, Paramount, Fox and Columbia). Kane was left stranded ahead of its time as the initial 'maverick' encroachment of modern art cinema into the classic Hollywood studio system.

 

Welles's on-stage and radio productions embodied a trend Bordwell identifies as Theatricalism, pioneered by European theatre directors Vsevolod Meyerhold and Erwin Piscator. “The trend broke with both Naturalism and Symbolism by admitting the sheer artificiality of the stage space.” (Bordwell 40s 452) Bordwell enumerates ways that Welles took “the Theatricalist impulse” from the stage to another level in his moviemaking, examples being “the harsh sound cuts and surprise visual transitions” in Citizen Kaneand The Lady from Shanghai. Bordwell identifies numerous other ways Welles countered what he saw as dullness in most films, examples being in his experiments with voice-over narration, embedded stories, and ways of weaving pastness into the texture of his storytelling, as in The Magnificent Ambersons. (452-61)  

 

Anne Baxter, Tim Holt, The Magnificent Ambersons

Carringer points out that “deep focus photography provided Welles not with realism but with the technical means of adapting the Mercury Theatre performance style to the requirements of a new medium. Extreme depth of field gave them a playing space equivalent to what they had on the stage.” (83) The wide angle lens kept them suitably distanced...The heavily theatrical gestures and mannerisms of the Mercury players, Welles included, are very unsuited to the studio style of intercutting.” Long takes facilitated by depth of field permitted the playing of scenes almost continuously. (85)

 

Dudley Andrew contends that, despite having a background in theatre and an evident theatrical personality, Welles in Citizen Kane from the beginning had the unique opportunity in the studio system to immediately become “fully a man of the cinema,” meaning “someone whose most profound  realisations are made possible in this medium.” The illusory quality of the image, the nature of motion picture technology, the depth of sound and the shallowness of the screen “all contribute to the fullest realisation of Welles's meditations on authenticity, mirage, impermanence, and loss.” Both André Bazin and Roland Barthes “wrote evocatively on the relation of photography to death: the image is a trace left by an object gone before us in time. And yet the animating power of motion confers on the cinema a vibrancy missing from the still photograph.” (DA 168)  

 

Jeanne Moreau, Welles, Chimes at Midnight

Andrew concludes that Welles's “overriding obsession with the past and death goes against the grain of the medium even while it is best expressed in that medium.”  The arrangement of images and sound in his films so as to embody the notion of loss and death,  Andrew suggests, is realised not only in Kane but even more relentlessly in The Magnificent Ambersons and Chimes at Midnight. He “effectively encloses time in the giant box of his narration.” (171) In Ambersons it's the way Welles's “deep seriousness” expands film's properties, specifically deploying, for example, spatialisation of sound (dialogue levels in relation to character movement and camera placement) in combination with the long take and wide angle lenses, minimising or dispensing with close-ups and reverse angle cutting, “his method right outside the system” in transforming a Pulitzer prize-winning novel, otherwise standard material for classic Hollywood adaptation. Bazin saw 1940 as a watershed year for cinema in which the deep focus styles of Renoir (Le Règle du Jeu) and Welles “tipped film language away from its obsessive self-concern and toward the subjects it was its mission to render.” (Quoted Andrew 7)

 

Although often touted for his expressionist visual sense Andrew writes that “Welles' most signal moments come from devices realised on the soundtrack.”(166) His fascination with sound culminates in  Chimes at Midnight. After describing it as “perhaps the greatest adaptation of Shakespeare that the cinema has yet produced,” Andrew writes that Chimes is “also the adaptation most difficult to hear...finding our greatest poet left to the mercy of Welles with his bizarre sense of sound mixing and pace.” (167).*  


Laurence Olivier's Henry V (1945) and Hamlet (1948) are often acclaimed as the best adaptations of Shakespeare to film because of the priority given to enunciation of the bard's writing.In contrast Chimes at Midnight is profoundly tied to the actor's voice. “Welles violated the sanctity of the [writing], piecing and patching a single film from the fragments of five different plays. Instead of a text which comfortingly remains behind the scenes and outlasts the film, Welles gives us avoicedisconcertingly disappearing over time... even Shakespeare, cannot outlast deterioration in time and diminution in space.” 

 

John Gielgud, Chimes at Midnight

Once again Welles has put forward “an immense power”... While he also uses “techniques of transition, of embedding and of parable in his scripts, these are merely a part of the magician's panoply of tricks...The effect of his use of sound is the more disturbing through the simplicity of its means...how to devastate through sheer sound recording...[He] has taken as his model, not the immortal bard, but “a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage and is heard no more.” (ibid)  

 

* For most of us who have only encountered Chimes at Midnight in the 'difficult  to hear' versions on film and video, Mark Cousins has written of watching a beautifully restored version in 2016 of Welles's film audible like never before. (Sight & Sound Jan. 2017 p.47)  James Naremore, while acknowledging that the badly synchronised soundtrack of Chimes at Midnight can make it “seem like a defaced masterpiece,” this “has tended to obscure the fact that the ideaof the soundtrack, considered apart from the images, is quite satisfying. It contains some of the most beautiful readings of Shakespeare ever recorded for film, especially the case of Gielgud's soliloquies – and the musical settings by Lavaginino are uniformly superb” (233) 

 

******************************************

Dudley Andrew, “Echoes of Art: The Distant Sounds of Orson Welles” essay in Film in the Aura of Art” 1984                                                

Robert L Carringer  The Making of Citizen Kane 1985

Thomas Elsaesser  “Authorship and Orson Welles”  The Persistence of Hollywood  Routledge 2012 

James Naremore  The Magic World of Orson Welles  Oxford UP 1989 

Jaime Christley, Great Directors: Orson Welles Senses of Cinema January 2003 


*********************************************

Editor’s Note: This is the sixth part of a series by Bruce Hodsdon in which he analyses the history and impact of Art Cinema. 

Part One appeared on 10 March and can be found IF YOU CLICK HERE

Part Two appeared on 16 May and can be found IF YOU CLICK HERE 

Part Three appeared on 3 June and can be found  IF YOU CLICK HERE 

Part  Four appeared on 2 July and can be found IF YOU CLICK HERE 

Part Five appeared on 19 July and can be found IF YOU CLICK HERE

Monday, 8 August 2022

Streaming on Stan and SBS On Demand - Janice Tong (re)discovers THE ASSASSIN (Hou Hsiao-hsien, Taiwan, 2015) + THE EXCEPTION (Jesper W Nielsen, Denmark, 2020)

"...beauty and aesthetics of the highest order...",
The Assassin

I have been a little remiss in writing about films in 2022, the year of supposed harmony (it’s turned out to be chaos really). Watching the world burn and drown simultaneously, I found that I’ve not had the heart for it. 

 

But art, music, literature, poetry and of course, cinema, have a profound role to play in shaping thought; inspiring beauty; giving the soul nourishment. At times it seemed that these traces, our humanness, had been abandoned in the face of an unfolding horror-field. It becomes impossible to switch on the TV, at the prescribed hour at 6:30pm. Just in time for tea. We have no stomach for it, our dinner, that is.

 

Let us travel back to an age of the mythic, where wuxia is a way of life. Hou Hsiao-Hsien’s oblique take on a classic seventh century fiction, Pei Xing’s Nie Yinniang is a slow burn; at once cinematically enigmatic and aesthetically stylised. There is little action in this wuxia pian. Whilst I haven’t read the text, the elliptical narrative would indicate that this was a loose and artistic retelling, rather than a faithful book-to-screen adaptation. Anyone who knows Hou’s cinema, would be familiar with his masterpiece A City of Sadness(1989), a meditative filmic elegy to the city of Taiwan and The Flowers of Shanghai (1998), my personal favourite – a languid film much like Bertrand Bonello’s House of Tolerance (2011). Hou’s focus is the flower houses of Shanghai in the 1880s versus Bonello’s nineteenth century Parisian take on the same subject.

 

In The Assassin, one can feel the same meditative languidness as FlowersMark Ping Lee’s cinematography is choreographic, lilting – like that of a sultry, brooding dance for one. The camera hides between billowing fabrics, between foliages, between the seen and the unseen; it sways like it’s yielding to the gentle breaths of Zephyrous. Set in the eighth century during the last years of the Tang Dynasty, which is at the summit of this dynasty’s art and culture; one should expect no less than beauty and aesthetics of the highest order in this film. 


Shu Qi plays Nie Yinniang, The Assassin

 

The wonderful Shu Qi plays the eponymous assassin Nie Yinniang, taken away to be trained when she was only 10 years old. She is the daughter of a general, who, years later, is sent on assassination assignments by her mentor, Jiaxin, a nun (in Chinese terms, she is actually a ‘holy person’ and not strictly in the sense of a ‘nun’ as Western culture understands) living in seclusion in the mountains (where the scenery is pristine and glorious to behold). In one of these assignments, Nie was to kill a corrupt general, but she weakened at the last moment and was unable to carry out her duty.  The target was holding his infant son. Nie returns to Jiaxin, but she has broken the assassin’s code and as punishment she is sent to Weibo in northern China to take the life of her cousin Tian Ji'an, to whom she was once betrothed – their union was meant as a seal for peace between two regions.

 

The film premiered at Cannes to critical acclaim (its legend written by none other than Manohla Dargis who described the screening to have been in ‘rapturous silence’ and ended with ‘thunderous applause’ – it won Hou the Best Director award. But many critics found the narrative to be intoxicating but frustratingly confounding in its narrative. To me, they seem to be saying that there is the most ravishing foreplay, but without the action that gets you off. I would like to return to the idea of dance – and ask whose eyes is this dance for? The answer is simply, it is for us, the audience, and as such, we are complicit in creating the film’s mysterious heart. 


"...ravishing foreplay, but without the action..."
The Assassin

 

This is not a story of connections, predestined or serendipitous, nor is it a story of contemplative lovers, like the last pairing between Chang Chen (here as the cousin Tian Ji'an) and Shu Qi – they were mesmeric in Three Times (2005). This film is also not a reinvention of the genre like Wong Kai-wai’s masterful and equally poetical Ashes of Time (1994). Hou films beauty, the costumes, the scenery and its compassionate heart is a must for those wanting a quiet moment’s solace, if only to enter into a dream during these tumultuous times.

 

The Exception was shown at the  Scandi Film Festival a couple of years ago, but I missed its theatrical screening at the time, so I was glad to have found it on Stan the other night. Do not confuse this small but incredibly thoughtful and tightly woven film with The Exception (2016) with Lily James and Christopher Plummer. No, The Exception I’m referring to is with Lene Maria Christensen, you would know her from Susanne Bier’s Brothers (2004) and Pernille Fischer Christensen’s En Famille (2010), Magnus Krepper (most recently seen in When the Dust Settles) and Danica Curcic (most recently seen in The Chestnut Man). If none of these names are familiar, the film also stars Sidse Babett Knudsen who is a household name these days, especially after the success of Borgen (the new series is on Netflix incidentally), not to mention 1864 (my favourite TV series, ever) and films like the blockbuster Tom Hanks vehicle Inferno or Peter Strickland’s The Duke of Burgundy. There’s also a small part for Johanne Louise Schmidt who plays the PM in the latest season of Borgen.

 

Anne-Lise (Sidse Babette Knudsen) - isolated by the others

Seen simply, Nielsen’s The Exception is a story about bullying, when a collective gangs up on another, for no apparent reason but just ‘because’ they can. Knudsen’s Anne-Lise is at the centre of the group’s insidious attacks; small jibes, the accumulation of uncomfortable moments, deliberate neglect, and a simmering and hurtful undercurrent of disdain. I’m sure we’ve all felt this at one time or another, by not-so-nice colleagues or ‘pretend friends’. 


Bullying is insidious- the collective from left Amanda Collin (Marlene),
Knudsen (Anne-Lise), Danica Curcic (Iben)
and Lene Maria Christensen (Camilla)


This thriller slowly unravels and Nielsen cleverly uses Iben’s (Curcic) piece on The Psychology of Evil to set up ideas (or perhaps to provide a more profound view of these behaviours) as he slowly unpicks the backstory of this ensemble. Seen in layers, their everyday lives are too complex for each other to grasp even a reasonable understanding of it. What lies under the surface, literally surfaces; but Nielsen makes a good point that it is impossible to grasp another’s pain when you are not in their skins.

 

The psychology of evil is not so much in question here, it exists, pure and simple; but it is its ubiquitousness and its rhizomatic behaviour that is brought to bear – the thin red line that separates survival and bloodlust, what mitigates one act from another. Wherefore our bloodline, our vessel to salvation?

 

The Assassin is currently showing on SBS on Demand and The Exception is currently showing on Stan.

Friday, 5 August 2022

Tina Kaufman offers up her books on film and her collection of crime fiction to good homes.

The board of Filmnews.
Tina Kaufman (front and centre)

Tina Kaufman has been a cinephile and an avid reader all her life. Now she says its time to downsize the collection she has accumulated over a lifetime.

She has a large collection of books and magazines on film but isn't up for the task of compiling a list. Instead she proposes that people contact her and arrange to come and look her collection over and take away what they want. It's a generous offer.

And just in case books on film are not your bag Tina has a large collection of classic and modern crime fiction. She suggests you bring one or more boxes to take the treasure away.

In case you need a reminder Tina was the editor of the Sydney Filmmakers Coop monthly newspaper, Filmnews for seventeen years. The newspaper covered all aspects of screen culture, policy and practice. Tina also wrote for various screen publications including Metro magazine and the online publication Screen Hub. She was a board member of the Sydney Film Festival for 25 years and a founding member of the Film Critics Circle of Australia and is now an honorary life member of both organisations. She is also the author of Wake in Fright (Currency Press)

If you are interested you should contact Tina at tinakaufman@optusnet.com.au

Monday, 1 August 2022

GEORGE SMILEY novels and screen - Rod Bishop concludes his series looking over THE SECRET PILGRIM, A LEGACY OF SPIES and the feature film of TINKER, TAILOR, SOLDIER, SPY (Tomas Alfredson, UK, 2011)

The Secret Pilgrim

Then the legend began talking, and I realized I had never heard Smiley address a social gathering before. I had assumed it was a thing he would be congenitally bad at, like forcing his opinions on people, or referring to a joe by his real name. So the sovereign way in which he addressed us surprised me…This was the actor who had always lain hidden within him, the secret Pied Piper. This was the man Ann Smiley had loved and Bill Haydon had deceived and the rest of us had loyally followed, to the mystification of outsiders.” 

Removing his spectacles from his ears, he fumbled distractedly with his shirt front, looking for what, I could not imagine what, until I realized that it was the fat end of the necktie on which he was accustomed to polish his lenses. But an awkwardly assembled black bow tie provides no such conveniences, so he used a silk handkerchief from his pocket instead.” 

Smiley lectures to trainee intelligence students at Sarratt. He is introduced by Ned, an intelligence veteran and former head of Sarratt training programs. With each subject Smiley broaches, Ned reminisces about his own career as a spy, including his time before The Fall, after The Fall and post-Cold War.

Ned, whom we first met in le Carré’s previous novel The Russia House, is the central character in The Secret Pilgrim (1990), and le Carré, who makes a virtue out of detailed back-stories for his characters, probably built out Ned’s career from his notes for The Russia House.

Smiley’s role here is quite tangential, although his questioning of the moral ambiguities of intelligence work is used to trigger Ned’s recollections.

It’s a series of short stories, each bookended by Smiley’s brief inputs as he lectures to the trainees at Sarratt.

Like all le Carré’s books with George Smiley, there’s plenty of opportunity to ask about Ann. Ned is talking with Peter Guillam:

And Ann, his wife, I asked Peter, lowering my voice as one does when Ann’s name comes up – for it was an open secret, and a painful one, that Bill Haydon had counted among Ann’s many lovers.

Ann was Ann, said Peter, with a Gallic shrug. She had bits of family with grand houses on Helford Estuary. Sometimes she stayed with them, sometimes she stayed with George.”


A Legacy of Spies

Fifty-four years after publication of The Spy Who Came in from The Cold, le Carré gathered up its characters - Alec Leamas, George Smiley, Peter Guillam, Liz Gold, Josef Fieldler, Karl Riemeck, Control and Hans-Dieter Mundt - for this backstory to his famous novel. 

A Legacy of Spies (2017) also draws in le Carré characters from Call for the Dead (Inspector Mendel) and Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (Jim Prideaux, Connie Sachs, Percy Alleline, Oliver Lacon, Bill Haydon, Toby Esterhase, Roy Bland) into a sort of memoir narrated by Peter Guillam, now called out of retirement in Brittany. The Circus is facing legal threat and public humiliation from the children of Alec Leamas and Liz Gold and must reopen and investigate the events leading to their deaths at the Berlin Wall.

Although talked about a lot, Smiley doesn’t appear until seven pages from the end, when Guillam finds him in a German reading room for visiting scholars.

“…since this is no sort of place for my planned confrontation, I ask him instead how Ann is.

‘She is very well, thank you, Peter. Yes. Very well, considering…she visits now and then. We walk. In the Black Forest. Not quite the marathons of old, I admit. But we walk’”.


Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011), feature film

Directed by Tomas Alfredson, written by Bridget O‘Connor and Peter Straughan with Gary Oldman (George Smiley), Colin Firth (Bill Haydon), Tom Hardy (Ricki Tarr), Mark Strong (Jim Prideaux), John Hurt (Control), Benedict Cumberbatch (Peter Guillam), Toby Jones (Percy Alleline), David Dencik (Toby Esterhase); Ciarán Hinds (Roy Bland), Kathy Burke (Connie Sachs), Stephen Graham (Jerry Westerby), Simon McBurney (Oliver Lacon). 

Oh, dear.

Sometimes filmmakers suck the very life out of their source material, giving birth to a crippled and inert project. 

Worse still, this one seems to have come from a 12-year-old’s computer program with simultaneous failures of script and direction and a casting strategy of jobs-for-the-boys.

It’s more than two-hours of drama-draining mistakes.

Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong), Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy

Why cast Mark Strong, for instance, perhaps the UK’s most passive and stony-faced actor, to play Jim Prideaux, a man crippled by gunshots and betrayed by an old friend, boiling with rage and fixated on revenge? Mark Strong is incapable of showing any of that, and his Jim Prideaux - so powerful in the novel and television series - is just colourless and limp.

Another example: the capture of the mole Haydon, arguably the most dramatic moment in the novel and television series, was tension-packed during the meticulous bugging of the safe house; the listening room set up; the avoidance of creaking floorboards; with Jim Prideaux lurking outside, spying on the spies, hiding from the street lights and from Esterhase’s surveillance “lamplighters”. When Haydon is captured, a furious Guillam attacks him as the Russian diplomat Polyakov screams for his immunity. 

In this feature film, this sequence amounts to little more than a few set-up shots of the safe house rooms with Guillam walking up, opening the front door and finding Haydon and Smiley sitting silently in chairs with Smiley holding a gun on the mole. Tension and impact are almost non-existent. 

And for dodgy decisions, there’s a lot more where that came from. 

Gary Oldman apparently hoped to move on to a remake Smiley’s People.

Hmm.

Dramatis personae of Tnker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, le Carre front row, 2nd from right, Gary Oldman (Smiley) front row right