Archive for Audrey Hepburn

War & Peace, brought to you by Wrigley’s

Posted in FILM, MUSIC with tags , , , , on January 9, 2019 by dcairns

There’s a great bit in King Vidor on Film Making where he talks about running out of money on WAR AND PEACE. They had a scene where Audrey Hepburn exchanges saucy glances with Vittorio Gassman at the opera. They built several opera boxes so they could film Audrey’s shots in the studio, with enough surrounding context to make it look like she was really there, but their plan for an opera house fell through.

The producers were sending Vidor to every opera house in Italy in hopes he could wrangle a venue for free, and somehow fill it with extras in period dress also for free.

Finally, King decided he wasn’t going to find an opera house, and mobilised his mighty brain. As they say in the military, If you know what your objective is, you’ll know what to do.

KV needed a reverse angle of Gassman in the stalls at the front of the opera house. And he needed a wide shot of the interior to establish it.

Elsewhere in his book, Vidor talks about his strong visual memory. He made a mental picture of what the front of an opera house looks like. What could you actually see from Audrey’s box? The orchestra would be hidden in the pit, save for the head and shoulders of the conductor, and the neck of a bass fiddle.

Vidor wasn’t entirely without resources: he had the use of a studio. They strung the only bit of red velvet they had to make part of the curtain. The audience believes it’s looking at half the curtain, because we know what size a theatre curtain must be. In fact, what we see in shot is all there was.

A row of camera platforms formed that part of the stage front not covered by the curtain. A row of lamps were strung along here to suggest footlights. A red velvet barrier masked the non-existent “orchestra pit” and the conductor was a man in a low chair peeping out over the top, dressed in the top half of a costume, while the broken neck of a bass fiddle was held in view a short distance away. Adding the sound of an orchestra tuning up completed the illusion.

Some rows of chairs were arranged, and Vidor could just barely afford twenty extras in costume. Now for the establishing shot.

Vidor had obtained a large photograph of La Scala. He wondered how much movement he would need to get into it for us to believe it was a live action shot. He sent it to Technicolor in London who were known for doing good special effects and asked them to turn it into a large painting. Then he asked them to affix little pieces of light silver foil to the images of figures in the audience, and position an electric fan where it would cause the foil to move. He advised them that they could obtain suitable foil from Selfridges in Oxford Street, who sold Wrigley’s Doublemint Gum.

The effect Vidor was hoping for was a suggestion of a dozen or so fans flickering in the audience. I don’t quite read it that way — probably the foil should have been tissue paper — but the trick is nevertheless a complete success — we read the opera house as a live action shot populated with real, full-sized three-dimensional people.

The establishing shot is at 1:27:27 in the Youtube video above, and Gassman’s reverse angle starts at 1:28:53.

WAR AND PEACE stars Eliza Dolittle (2) and her real-life husband, Stephen Orlac; with Tom Joad; Brancaleone da Norcia; Chief Insp. Charles Dreyfus; Colonel Stok; Amanda Beatrice Cross; The Stranger (from Venus); Mr. Lundle; Fräulein Schneider; Alfred Dolittle (1); Lola-Lola (2); Sherlock Holmes (1984-94) and his best friend, Sherlock Homes (1970); William Mossop; and the voice of Colossus.

Advertisements

Living in it

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 17, 2016 by dcairns

vlcsnap-2016-10-17-08h47m32s605

The GFT was a building site on Thursday — on Sunday it was almost pristine, with improved carpets, lighting, curtain, and whatnot (you can’t have a cinema without good whatnot). I had nipped through by coach to see ROBIN AND MARIAN, adding it to the very short list of Richard Lester films I have actually seen on the big screen. This was a 35mm projection, which had the positive effect of eliminating all ads and trailers — they don’t make ’em on film anymore, and who wants to switch projectors mid-show?

Unfortunately, the colour had faded in the 1976 print, giving the distinct impression of Merrie England viewed through a thin slice of salmon. All praise the digital revolution, for thanks to DVD I could superimpose a more natural set of colours, thus preventing the whole experience getting too chroma-claustrophobic. It seemed to be mostly blue that had gone — there was still verdant lustre to the green of Sherwood — in reality Spain, which cinematographer David Watkin bolstered with filters which had the bonus effect of reducing Sean Connery’s vivid tan.

vlcsnap-2016-10-17-08h46m44s371

“They haven’t changed a thing!” remarks Little John, seeing Nottingham for the first time in years.

This movie gets more emotional for me every time. I think it’s the tragedy of male-female miscommunication which it captures so well. You can’t get much more male than Connery (plus Nichol Williamson, Robert Shaw, Richard Harris) or more female than Hepburn, and the way the leads’ emotions mesh yet miss, their values completely fail to coincide, and their priorities set them on a fatal course… just gets me. Lester almost dismissed the romance when I raised it with him — he’s mordantly anti-romantic, yet happily married for decades — saying it was a necessary spine supporting all the things he was really interested in, which had to do with medieval life and politics and religion and militarism.

(On working with a cast of hard-drinking thesps including Williamson, Shaw, Harris, and the “lovely” Denholm Elliott, Lester said with wonderment, “I never had a problem with any of them!” He’d already handled Oliver Reed…)

vlcsnap-2016-10-17-08h53m15s245

A very young Victoria Abril and a very young Kenneth Cranham (right), looking almost like a proto-Michael Praed. “Kenneth Cranham played a character called “boy” in the script. Now, every time I see Kenneth Cranham on television I think, That was our Boy!'”

Bigger piece here.

Old School

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 22, 2012 by dcairns

When John Waters appeared at Edinburgh Film Fest to talk about his career and his monologue-movie THIS FILTHY WORLD, he spoke of the tragedy of Divine’s passing — not only did his star miss out on the success of HAIRSPRAY, but his death cast a pall over the film. “Who would say ‘Let’s go see that comedy starring that guy who just died?'” he asked, rhetorically. This didn’t stop a drunken female fan in the audience from bellowing “I would!” Waters, who is a real gent, which one might not guess from some of his movies, looked slightly pained, and answered, with great restraint, “Yes, but you know what I mean.”

Well, I’d been meaning to revisit THEY ALL LAUGHED, and Ben Gazzara’s passing seemed as good a reason as any. Fiona had never seen it. While not having Gazzara around any more is a cause for sadness, in a way it was good to see the film with a slightly different pall over it than the usual one, which is of course due to the presence of Dorothy Stratton, murdered before the film came out. And it’s hard to separate that tragedy from the movie’s history. When the distributors decided to write the film off, Bogdanovich bought it back from them and distributed it himself, which bankrupted him.

So the movie has baggage — it also has John Ritter, who died much too soon, and a lingering view of the twin towers during the opening credits. A pretty heavy load for a movie to bear when it’s trying to coast along on charm.

Because there’s virtually no plot, something which perplexed me when I saw it as a kid (it was one of the few movies our local VHS/Betamax rental place had in stock). I got the distinct impression I was missing something — a bunch of characters are set in motion for obscure reasons, move around Manhattan, get up to mysterious stuff, switch partners, fall in love, and then it’s over. I grasped that some of the men were private eyes, and I grasped who they were following — Audrey Hepburn and Dorothy Stratton — but since the husband-clients who engaged the ‘tecs spend most of their time offscreen, and are virtually never seen conferring with their hired snoopers, I had little idea why anything was happening. It’s like Truffaut says to Hitchcock, whenever A & B are discussing an absent C, the audience scratches their scalps and wonders who the hell C is.

On top of the puzzlement, there’s an almost total lack of dramatic tension, a necessary ingredient in farce and screwball, I’d have thought. Some of the slackness comes from our not being sure what’s afoot, some of it from a genuine sense of there being nothing at stake. The characters deal with romance in such an easy-going manner — the film takes it as read that everybody is unfaithful to everybody else, and nobody seems to mind except a couple of unsympathetic husbands — that it’s hard to get engaged with the entanglements of the lead characters.

Yes, characterS — the hero role is split between Gazzara and Ritter. BG brings movie-star manliness and dignity to a bed-hopping character who arguably lacks dignity in some key ways, while Ritter, as absolutely everybody has pointed out, is playing Bogdanovich, down to the blazer and big plastic specs. His impersonation is so good he illuminates the ways in which Ryan O’Neal before him had channelled the Bogdanovich persona. But O’Neal’s own, more muscular personality still came through, whereas Ritter is subsumed.

The other cast member who suffers is Colleen Camp, who most people seem to find annoying in this. I think the problem is that she’s been drilled in the mannerisms of Madeleine Kahn in WHAT’S UP, DOC? (herself modeled on the henpecker in BRINGING UP BABY), and it’s too one-note, especially as the character has more screen time and seems intended to be at least somewhat appealing.

BUT — there are compensations for all of the above, even for those who don’t like country music (yes, it’s set in New York and has a largely country music soundtrack, with a splash of Sinatra and Benny Goodman). Bogdanovich’s conceit of transposing screwball style onto a 1981 location-shot New York movie is, in itself, quite charming. Patti Hansen (now Mrs Keith Richards) is a sensational discovery (rather eclipsing Stratton) as the lady cab driver who casually flirts with Gazzara. She’s got cute freckles and an unselfconscious manner which suggests she doesn’t quite know what she’s doing but trusts it all to work out.

There’s a very young Elizabeth Pena!

Bogdanovich’s daughters play Gazzara’s daughters, and are terrific — everybody’s got the Bogdanovich 40s timing down pat.

Audrey Hepburn has too little to do — it’s an odd romantic comedy which spends most of its time stalking — but when she finally gets a line or two, the film gains emotion. But it’s weird, with one character getting divorced, how Hepburn never seems to consider ditching her fat-cat hubbie for new love Ben. Hard to feel heartbroken for her. Maybe she’s afraid she’d lose custody of her kid, but if so, that’s a dramatic point which the film ought to bring out. It’s as if PB is so intent on keeping things light, he forgot to charge the story’s batteries with some actual motivating power.

To be honest, skipping through the director’s filmography, it’s a problem I tend to find in his original screenplays. Where the source material provides an edge, you get THE LAST PICTURE SHOW. Where he has to engage with the dynamics of the thriller, as in TARGETS, it’s rather electrifying, in part because of his discomfort with the nastier qualities of the genre (and his story collaborator, Polly Platt, was a good influence). But Bogdanovich on his own wrote AT LONG LAST LOVE — not as awful as its reputation suggests, but singularly lacking in forward momentum.

The movies Bogdanovich admires usually only seem to coast along. While I admit I can’t remember a thing about the storyline of TOP HAT, I do recall that THE GAY DIVORCEE sets up narrative expectations early on and even delivers a superb plot twist. And Hawks’ disparagement of plot should never be taken at face value — his characters nearly always have goals.

In the end, THEY ALL LAUGHED is pretty enjoyable — we didn’t know precisely why we were watching, but we never felt like switching off. And the film would appear to be seriously overlong, at nearly two hours, but survives. I can’t resent its formlessness too much — the plots of Bogdanovich’s best films, which are seriously good (PAPER MOON was my first exposure to The New Hollywood, and I still love it) always threaten to disintegrate, and hang together against the odds. So one should allow him the odd film which doesn’t quite make it to the finish line intact. The sad thing about his career is that Hollywood, or the public, or fate, did not allow him these “failures”.