Archive for Francis Ford Coppola

A break from the norm

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 6, 2016 by dcairns

vlcsnap-2016-12-06-08h21m55s209

I felt kind of guilty that I hadn’t hurried to catch up with Francis Ford Coppola’s YOUTH WITHOUT YOUTH and TETRO when they were new. I kind of bailed on him after Francis Ford Coppola’s BRAM STOKER’S DRACULA, and saw no reason to bother with JACK or THE RAINMAKER. Uncle Francis was going to get paid whether I saw them or not, so they’d served their purpose. But I intended to give him another chance when he came back with more personal films, I just… never got around to it.

But now I’ve seen TWIXT and am right puzzled. Written by FFC himself, and proudly bearing the American Zoetrope logo, it seems like a personal project. And indeed it incorporates a tragic incident from Coppola’s life, the death of his son in a boating accident (here rendered as the death of a daughter because, as Poe says here, that makes it more poetical). But what it is, is a hoaky, creaky, incoherent gothic fantasy that plays like cut scenes from a video game and feels like it was written by an eight-year-old. Now, that may sound like a knock. In fact, even as it suffers from all these problems, it has some of the dopey charm of cut scenes and children’s writing: naivety can be attractive.

vlcsnap-2016-12-06-08h22m13s357

The thing starts with considerable assurance: a spooky Tom Waits voice-over will kick anything off nicely. And the images of the small town are very atmospheric without, for the most part, pushing it: visually, the film is often splendid, with digitally manipulated night scenes that evoke Bava and Freda. As the movie goes on, the stuff set in “reality” becomes more and more laughably unconvincing, but the fantastical stuff has a bit of Lynchian weirdness and, although nothing in the movie makes proper sense, there are bits that seem to link up in an irrational, dreamlike way.

It feels harsh to criticise Coppola for using a personal tragedy in his story — after all, it’s his personal tragedy. He should be free to use it if he wants to. But it felt unresolved, unconnected, and curiously unfelt — maybe because we first see a photo of the dead child right after Kilmer’s done a Brando impersonation in a (quite funny) improv writer’s block bit.

vlcsnap-2016-12-06-08h22m25s472

The acting is all over the shop. Val Kilmer works hard to anchor it. It’s lovely to see his ex-wife, Joanne Whalley, here playing his current wife — but she doesn’t convince in her bitchier moments. She’s just too nice. Then there’s Bruce Dern as Sheriff Bob LaGrange, who Coppola clearly believes can do no wrong. I saw Dern in Telluride talk to Leonard Maltin about his work in NEBRASKA, and giving a pared-down performance without any of his trademark “Dernsies.” Well, I think all the Dernsies ended up in this film. It’s a performance made entirely of Dernsies. Waste not, want not. I love Bruce Dern, he is an international treasure. But when he gives his name as “BOB LaGrrrraaaange!!!” he probably could have benefited from some direction. Who gets that excited about their own name? I think you can see similar stuff going on with Anthony Hopkins in DRAC, he keeps getting more ridiculous, waiting for the moment when his director will say, “Okay, maybe that was a little too much…” but the moment never comes.

vlcsnap-2016-12-06-08h22m19s359

Oh, we also get Alden Ehrenreich, a Coppola discovery. He plays a ridiculous, Baudelaire-quoting vampire goth biker called Flamingo, and is as good as anyone could be under such circs. Ben Chaplin plays Edgar Allen Poe with an English accent, an odd/lazy choice. But he looks the part. Handsome yet still strongly Poe-like. And I always feel a burst of enthusiasm from somewhere or other when this guy shows up, a bit like with Rufus Sewell, you know? A Rufus Sewell kind of a feeling.

vlcsnap-2016-12-06-08h20m24s080

I’m told, and it may not be true, that when Coppola screened DEMENTIA 13, his first attempt at the Gothic, for his producer, Roger Corman, a man not given to loud displays of emotion, Corman snapped a pencil. Which would be like a bomb going off, from Corman. So he got Jack Hill to rescue it. My own pencil-snapping moment came right at the end of this one, when it became clear that nothing was going to wrap up satisfactorily, that Coppola didn’t have a clue how to end the story, that he’d been making it up as he went along and filmed a first draft. And let’s be clear — it’s OK to end a movie with text on the screen saying what happened to the characters IF THEY’RE REAL. Or if you’re being funny. Coppola is clearly being funny some of the time here, but he doesn’t seem to have made a clear decision about when.

 

Canal Knowledge

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , on November 21, 2016 by dcairns

vlcsnap-2016-11-20-23h53m02s976

Well, after five and a half majestic hours of Abel Gance’s NAPOLEON on the big screen I ought to have plenty to blog about this week. But my first observations are going to be pathetically trivial.

Being a newcomer to this movie — I purposely held off on watching it until I could see it projected with an audience — I’m not sure how much new footage may be included in Mr. Brownlow’s latest restoration. And my unwatched DVD turns out to be taken from Francis Ford Coppola’s somewhat pruned version of the movie — he de-restored it a bit for US consumption, apparently feeling himself better qualified to produce a director’s cut than Gance himself. So all I can say is that the version currently screening in select venues turns out to have more Annabella than the Coppola cut. I don’t know if this is because FCC thought we could do with a life of Bonaparte containing about 30% less gamine, or because more footage of the elfin one has since turned up. Here she is ~

vlcsnap-2016-11-20-23h54m40s498

The upper intertitle made me smile, because there happens to be a film called SUEZ, directed by Allan Dwan, dealing with the construction of the famous canal, and Annabella is in it, along with her then husband, Tyrone Power (what should we call that marriage – lavender, open, or just plain peculiar?).

SUEZ is a pretty dull film. Zanuck’s Fox was just the kind of studio where somebody would make the assumption that a large civil engineering project would automatically make a good movie. But if you look in the Yellow Pages under “civil engineering” it says “see boring,” and rightly so.

Annabella provides the only minute of interest in the film, using her breasts.

vlcsnap-2016-11-21-00h00m19s136

Seconded to Alexandria to prepare the canal, Ty Power immediately chances upon a runaway bathing machine and a naked damsel in distress, played by his offscreen wife. Though her character is supposed to be anxious to conceal herself beneath the conveniently opaque waters of her oasis, Annabella herself seems more interesting in bobbing up and down and revealing as much as possible.

And so, a unique sight for 1938 — a topless woman covering her breasts with her hands. Might not seem that shocking, but I can’t think of any similar view in a film of that period.

Tyrone is the perfect gentleman, returns the bathing machine, Annabella gets dressed, and then, in a bit of screwball slapstick, the couple both fall in the water. Cue 1938’s second surprise image, the wet shirt scene ~

vlcsnap-2016-11-21-00h01m32s856

This is, in motion, even more explicit than it looks here. Annabella’s shirt becomes a translucent membrane, clinging to her boyish figure like a second skin. Ahem.

I realize I am probably apt to overrate the importance and interest of female breasts in the scheme of things. But this double violation of censorship norms seems to require a theory to explain it. The only explanation I can come up with is a rather sad one: the Breen Office allowed Annabella’s breasts to make themselves known because they are very small, and they didn’t think they counted.

I think they count, Annabella! And everyone thought you were much cuter than Josephine in NAPOLEON.

Pretty lame to be pondering this after seeing the wonder that is Gance’s masterpiece, I know. But that movie has a bunch of much more fulsome and unabashed nudity, so in a way I’m being restrained by focussing on this modest sample.

(As ace researcher Christine Leteux discovered, there was once even more of Annabella in NAPOLEON. I mean screen time, not flesh. Intriguingly, the deleted scene linked to here is more dramatic than anything remaining of A’s performance in the film.)

Warren Beatty’s biscuits

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 23, 2016 by dcairns

vlcsnap-2016-08-23-10h56m52s100

Warren Beatty’s biscuits are brought to you by MICKEY ONE, successfully bringing you Warren Beatty’s biscuits since 1965.

It’s a fascinating piece. The opening sequence, which unfold like a really great fashion spread of the sixties, only with moving parts, had me convinced this was going to be great before the director credit. And then I got progressively less convinced, but still impressed.

Mickey One titles from David Cairns on Vimeo.

Arthur Penn, fabulously squandering the goodwill generated by THE MIRACLE WORKER, goes all out to create an American art film, which is not a form native to America. I think the ultimate cargo cult art film may be Frankenheimer’s STORY OF A LOVE STORY, which dutifully assembles a bunch of talents with impeccable arthouse credentials and then sits back, well pleased with itself, while the already-sparse audience shuffle out. Penn likewise has a leading lady and a cinematographer with nouvelle vague references, and an actor from THE SEVEN SAMURAI (I was thinking I know that guy for the longest time, simply assuming he was Japanese-American, but NO, they imported him), but to his credit his film is also 100% American, with a particularly strong sense of time and place.

vlcsnap-2016-08-23-10h53m46s755

The very young Warren Beatty plays a stand-up comedian on the run from the mob — in the third act he reverses his course and tries running TO the mob, which is the main bit of plot development. There’s intriguing support from Franchot Tone (looking like he’s been in another fight), Hurd Hatfield and Jeff Corey. Alexandra Stewart is the Cahiers-approved leading lady.

vlcsnap-2016-08-23-10h59m55s147

On the minus side, Beatty’s material isn’t funny, and he isn’t funny doing it; the plot is paper-thin but not really meant to be otherwise; the film wants to be Felliniesque but only Fellini could pull that one off (is there any other great filmmaker whose influence on US film was so overwhelmingly negative? Fellini has an especial appeal for filmmakers who don’t want to do the work of telling a proper story — I think it’s significant that just as Picasso knew how to draw a credible realistic human figure, Fellini was a master storyteller who moved beyond storytelling); the attempts to do quirky, ludic filmmaking with undercranking and stuff are mainly a bit embarrassing.

On the plus side, fabulous imagery is thrown up all the time, working best when it arises naturally from the settings rather than being some kind of surreal conceit. And the movie has the most glorious dissolves: scenes melt into one another, frequently resulting in Beatty sharing the screen with himself (which I’m sure he loves). One time, driving a car, Beatty turns his head as if reacting to something, and a second landscape bleeds through in just the spot he’s looking at, followed by a second Beatty, peering uncertainly from the back of the first one’s head. The brilliant editor was Aram Avakian, later a fine director.

vlcsnap-2016-08-23-10h53m59s391

Two Beattys #1: ethereal foreground Warren looks at background Warren seemingly walking through fire.

vlcsnap-2016-08-23-11h03m05s094

Two Beattys #2: Warren 2 looks out the back of Warren 1’s head.

(In his autohagiography The Kid Stays in the Picture, Robert Evans says he fired Avakian from THE GODFATHER for manoeuvring against Coppola, trying to steal his job. It may be true, But Avakian had worked with Coppola before [YOU’RE A BIG BOY NOW], was Coppola’s guy. Evans, on the other hand, was manoeuvring against Coppola (it’s kind of what some producers see their job as — stop the film from being too individual a creative expression) and I suspect him of simply trying to weaken Coppola’s band of followers. He couldn’t easily fire the cinematographer, but editors are easy to snip out of the picture, privately.)

More acting with himself: it’s kind of hilarious the number of scenes Beatty plays with other actors who won’t talk to him. Little Kamitari Fujiwara never speaks at all, and Tone and Hatfield and the rest spend long scenes just staring balefully and refusing to answer Warren’s impassioned questions. “Why does nobody want to talk to Warren?” I asked.

vlcsnap-2016-08-23-11h00m12s296

The ending is a would-be Fellini trope that rather irked me, but there’s a bit where Beatty tries to perform his act in the spotlight’s glare with the strong sense that he’s about to be killed — he performs to the light, as if meeting his maker, and it does achieve the existentialism the film is clutching for. The trouble is, it happens TWICE, at roughly the two-thirds mark and at the end, which rather dilutes the effect. But I could see the potential — Micky’s Kafkaesque contract, which may or not exist, makes him a man under obscure sentence of death, like the whole human race. Pompous and self-serious, maybe, but evocative, especially in black and white.