Archive for Ingmar Bergman

Ingmar Bergman on the Lavatory

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , on June 5, 2019 by dcairns

Finally started delving into our big Bergman Blu-ray box set. Since June is here and the temperature has promptly plunged, we slid SMILES OF A SUMMER NIGHT into the Maidstone and enjoyed visiting an idyllic movie I hadn’t seen since I was 19 (in BBC2’s Film Club)and which Fiona had never experienced.

It really works, this one, proving that Bergman COULD do comedy. Unlike ALL THESE WOMEN and THE DEVIL’S EYE, it never tries too hard, in fact it seems to forget about being funny for half an hour at a time. But the broad comedy (the flatulent jalopy, for instance, and everything involving Jarl Kulle (below), also star of the other two Bergman romps) seems to fit quite comfortably within the dramatic sections.

There’s also a nice extra — appallingly shot and edited, but nice nonetheless — in which old Ingmar talks a little about the project. He learned of its Cannes success while reading the newspaper while on the toilet, he says — a stirring image — “Swedish Film Has Cannes Success,” he reads, and thinks “That’s nice.” Then he learns it’s HIS film, which he didn’t even know was playing. So he borrows some money from Bibi Andersson, his girlfriend and star (top) and scoots down there. I like to picture him with toilet paper on his shoe, but you don’t have to.

It’s the beginning of Bergman the auteur who can make any film he wants (within budgetary limits, I guess). He says, a bit disingenuously I fear, that in a way he’s sad that this success meant he could no longer enjoy the guidance of smart producers. A likely story!

I do love Gunnar Fischer’s photography, in its way as nice as Nykvist’s. Though I wish they’d had a graded filter or something to hand so their day-for-night could be more solid. It’s not so much that the “nuit Americain” is unconvincing — it usually is — it’s that they don’t even seem to be attempting it. The Bergman-Ed Wood Jr. crossover is achieved, and in Bergman’s best early film…

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Big Bergman Book

Posted in FILM, literature with tags , , , , on February 23, 2019 by dcairns

Criterion mailed us a cop of Ingmar Bergman’s Cinema, which is TWO books, really. One is all Bergman’s movies, the other is essays on those movies. Fiona and I did one on ALL THESE WOMEN and THE DEVIL’S EYE, representing the Swedish maestro’s less-celebrated “flop comedy” phase. And we found much of interest and much to honestly enjoy in these off-the-beaten-path curios. Truly!

Fiona got in on the deal by suggesting a title, We Prefer the Early, Gloomy Ones, which I thought was terrific. Then she told me I could only use it if I credited her, which seemed awkward so I suggested she co-write the thing, which she did. Then Criterion came up with their own excellent title, Then As Farce, which is an easier reference to get and avoids the whole controversial Woody Allen thing.

Anyhow, the upshot is we have a lot of Ingmar Bergman to watch now.

Ingmar Bergman’s Cinema – Set [Blu-ray]

Dialogical Exhaustion

Posted in FILM, Politics with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 4, 2017 by dcairns

Oh no! Kevin Spacey has been accused of sexual assault! It’s OK, though, he didn’t do it, not in Alan Parker’s last film, the 2003 death-house drama THE LIFE OF DAVID GALE.

This piece will be all about the spoilers, and the film has a twist ending that’s almost as good shit as ANGEL HEART, so stop reading now if, like me, you’ve been vaguely meaning to catch up with this one for the last twenty years.

This is not only Alan Parker’s last film (to date), it will also end up being Kevin Spacey’s because when they get around to digitally replacing him with Christopher Plummer in all his movies, this is the one they’ll stop at because Plummer won’t want to do it.Spacey with Rhona Mitra, the student who’ll do ANYTHING to get a pass. When your character has to actually apologise for being a retrograde cliché, it may be a sign that your character is a retrograde cliché.

One has to respect Parker, I guess, for announcing his retirement and sticking to it, something so few filmmakers can bring themselves to do. When Bergman announced that he was packing it in after FANNY AND ALEXANDER, he’d just made a masterpiece and also a really good Christmas film which would have fitted perfectly into this blogathon, but then he went on to make more than a dozen further works — OK, it’s nice that we have them, but those I’ve seen aren’t as good. Kieslowski announced he was through making movies, then changed his mind, then dropped dead. Parker has stuck to his guns.

And a good thing too, going by this. Parker bowed out with a movie that alternates between the sclerotic and the desperate-to-be-with-it. The latter tendency is apparent mainly in the awful flash-cuts of punchy words, taken from letters, emails, etc, jabbed into the edit as the camera turns upside down. By this means, Parker gets us into his flashbacks.

Scroll rapidly between these two images while blinking a lot.

The turgid stuff is actually a lot better. Because Spacey is/was a fascinating presence, and he has Laura Linney to bounce off of some of the time. Kate Winslet’s performance is less satisfying as she falls into Parker’s cliches too readily. Also, her character name is “Bitsy.” No excuse for that. Melissa McCarthy turns up briefly as “Nico the Goth Girl.”

“I’m sinking to my knees in slow motion! NOOOOOOO!”

(I like BUGSY MALONE by the way, I liked BIRDY back when it was new, THE COMMITMENTS, and, on TV, The Evacuees made a huge impression on me. And Parker was always an interesting, bolshy, curmudgeonly commentator on the British film scene.)

I knew the film had a big twist, and that most of the reviewers hated it. It’s kind of the starting point of late Fritz Lang movie BEYOND A REASONABLE DOUBT, the idea of a man faking up evidence so he can prove that it’s possible for someone to get wrongly convicted of murder. Parker and screenwriter Charles Randolph (THE BIG SHORT) take that idea up to the next level, and don’t cop out as Lang and his scribe Douglas Morrow did. But their twist is pretty obvious (and Louis Cyphre’s cage elevator turns up at the end to remind us that Parker has form here) and the second twist doesn’t really add anything with emotional impact. And the whole scheme is pointless because a killer, a victim and a patsy collaborating to set up the frame is a sufficiently uncommon, nay, ludicrous occurrence that the lethal-injection-happy Texas governor need have few qualms that this sort of thing is going to happen a lot.

Kubrick pointed out that the trouble with anti-lynching movies is they always focus on innocent men being hanged. Since lynch mobs always think they’ve got the right man (or else they don’t care, so long as he’s the right/wrong race), they’re not going to be put off by this. In a way, Tim Robbins’ DEAD MAN WALKING is a much better anti-capital-punishment tract because it argues that even when a man is guilty of a heinous crime, maybe there’s a case against the state taking his life. But both TLODG and DMW are the movie Richard E. Grant is pitching in THE PLAYER. I remember an embarrassing interview where a journalist speaking to Robert Altman attempted to flatter him by saying he would be the man to make the uncompromised version rather than the happy ending travesty with Bruce Willis and Julia Roberts. Of course, Altman wouldn’t have touched either version, though I guess he did make THE GINGERBREAD MAN.I can see that it’s dated, and overheated, but I sort of miss Parker’s eighties pomp — blue or sepia-tinged images, every room full of smoke for no reason except to create shafts of light blasting through every window, every road slicked with rain. Only the last touch is present in TLODG, despite the fact we’re in Texas and we only see it rain once. Stripped of his ad-man’s imagery, Parker becomes rather a flat, boring filmmaker, who apparently hasn’t noticed he’s making a deeply silly film which would benefit enormously from outrageous stylistic brio if it were applied consistently. He could have his dreadful flash-cuts, if he must, if only he’d surround them with equally ebullient directorial pyrotechnics. This movie thinks it’s a deep and meaningful political drama, when by rights it ought to be THE COLOR OF NIGHT or FEMME FATALE.

Aptly, Spacey’s David Gale is the author of a supposedly brilliant book on philosophy called Dialogical Exhaustion. Which sounds very deep dish but translates as Running Out of Things to Say.

Theory: just as TLODG (why the unnecessarily boring title?) is about a man who tries to justify the abolition of the death penalty by willfully getting himself convicted of murder, Parker’s swan song could be interpreted as him trying to justify his contention that film is a young man’s game by willfully making a movie which is both tediously disengaged and frantically desperate to be exciting and “cinematic.” So we have no choice but to applaud the old bastard for stopping.