Tuesday, February 28, 2017

059 - The Lower Depths, 1936, France. Dir. Jean Renoir.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

059 - The Lower Depths, 1936, France. Dir. Jean Renoir.

In Boudu Saved from Drowning (1932), we were on the Seine River.
In A Day in the Country (1936), we were on the Loing River.
In The Lower Depths (1936), we are on the Marne River.

I wonder if Jean Renoir likes rivers.

Maybe he could make a movie called The River.  That's a good idea.

Welcome to the Marne River. 

Maxim Gorky wrote it as the Volga River.  The national river of Russia.  Europe's longest river.  Flowing through the heart of Russia.  Down to the Caspian Sea.

But Jean Renoir is not Russian.  Maxim Gorky is Russian.  Jean Renoir is French.

Write what you know.  Direct what you know.

Gorky wrote what he knew.  He wrote the play The Lower Depths.

Renoir directed what he knew.  He directed the movie The Lower Depths.

The play premiered at the Moscow Arts Theatre in December, 1902.  The Moscow Arts Theatre would go on to become the world's greatest theatre of its day.

The play was directed by the master, Constantin Stanislavski.

The play starred the master, Constantin Stanislavski.

Imagine Jean Renoir turning that play into a movie 34 years later.

No pressure.

Perhaps he was wise to reset the film in France rather than in Russia.

Jean Renoir got France's big star for this one, Jean Gabin.  And Jean Renoir and Jean Gabin would continue to work together for several more films.

And Jean Renoir would give Jean Gabin some of his greatest roles.  And his greatest role.  We will see that in a couple days.

Jean Gabin plays Pepel, a thief who lives in a flophouse and canoodles with the landlord's wife Vassilissa.  Her sister Natascha also lives there, and Pepel may be more interested in her than in Vassilissa.

Meanwhile a rich Baron is castigated for misappropriating funds entrusted to him.  He seems to have a spending habit.  Or more specifically, a gambling habit.

The women of society want him for his money.  They attend the same functions.  They watch him.

He always remains calm, whether he has won or lost at cards.  If he lights his cigarette, it means he won.  If he does not light it, but places it unlit in his mouth, it means he lost.

The women of society watch closely.  Tonight, he places the cigarette in his mouth but does not light it.  He has lost.  The women will leave him alone tonight.

This time it means he has lost everything.  He is in real trouble.

Back home he informs his servant that they will be getting rid of everything to try to help pay off his debts.

Pepel comes to rob him.  At least the Baron cannot shoot himself.  Pepel has his gun.  The Baron laughs at Pepel.  Go ahead and take everything you want.  I have already lost it.

The two become friends.  The Baron gives Pepel a bronze statue.  Pepel is arrested.  He claims the Baron is his friend and gave him the statue.  The police do not believe him.   The Baron arrives and confirms the claim.  Pepel is free to go.

The Baron joins Pepel and the gang at the flophouse.

And if you are willing to suspend your disbelief, the Baron is now finally happy, being broke, because he does not have to conform to society's expectations.  He can lie in the grass all day and contemplate the sky.

Oh, the good life.

Pepel finally reveals to Vassilissa that he does not love her.  That breaks her heart enough.  But then when she discovers he loves her younger sister, well, that does not lead to a good reaction.

The Inspector is coming to inspect the flophouse.  The landlord is in trouble.

What can we do to bribe him?

What if we give him Natascha?  That's it.  Then he will leave us alone.  The landlord and his wife Vassilissa have concocted this scheme.  Never mind what Natascha thinks.  Take one for the team.

The dramatic set-up will lead to a dramatic outcome.  Someone will lose a fight.  Someone will die.  Someone will escape.  Someone else will die.  Someone will go free.  Someone will stay.

Jean Gabin plays the role like a movie star.  You never fully believe he is a thief or a beggar or in any way a desperate man.

But he fills the screen with his presence.

And he draws you in the way he draws in two sisters.

Monday, February 27, 2017

058 - A Day in the Country, 1936, France. Dir. Jean Renoir.

Monday, February 27, 2017

058 - A Day in the Country, 1936, France. Dir. Jean Renoir.

Remember the first film we saw this year?

Yes.

It was People on Sunday (001, January 1), directed by Robert Siodmak and Edgar G. Ulmer.  It included the work of Curt Siodmak, Fred Zinnemann, and Billy Wilder.

It was released in 1930.

It was a light, lyrical story about a group of young city people, in Berlin, who spent a day in the country, by the water, on the water, and then went their separate ways.

The filmmakers went on to have great careers in film.

With today's film we return to this idea.

A Day in the Country was directed by Jean Renoir.

It was released in 1936.

It is a light, lyrical story about a group of city people, from Paris, who spend a day in the country, by the water, on the water, who meet a couple of young French country men, and then go their separate ways.

It was made by people who went on to have great careers in film.

Jean Renoir was already established, but consider his team.

Imagine making a movie with these gentlemen as your assistants: Claude Renoir, Jacques Becker, Henri Cartier-Bresson, and Luchino Visconti.

Wow.

Here is a brief overview of who they were.

Claude Renoir (1913-1993) was Jean Renoir's nephew, the son of his brother.  He worked on seven of Jean Renoir's films, many French films for some legendary French directors, and American films including the Elizabeth Taylor/Richard Burton epic Cleopatra, Henry Hathaway's Circus World starring John Wayne and Rita Hayworth, The Madwoman of Chaillot starring Katharine Hepburn, the Jane Fonda adventure fantasy Barbarella, John Frankenheimer's French Connection II starring Gene Hackman as Popeye Doyle, and the James Bond hit The Spy Who Loved Me.

Jacques Becker (1906-1960) went on to become a major French director.  For some, he is one of France's best, although there are so many great French film directors it is difficult to compare them.  He chose to stay in France after being offered employment by Hollywood mogul King Vidor.  He worked on seven of Jean Renoir's films and for several other directors before moving out on his own. 

Henri Cartier-Bresson (1908-2004) began life as a painter and voracious reader before going on to become one of the world's great photographers.  He worked as a Second Assistant Director on our film and returned for Renoir's masterpiece The Rules of the Game (1939).  He would travel the world shooting photographs of great artists and events.  He shot for Life magazine.  He published books and showed in many exhibitions.  He is credited for having influenced the documentary style known as cinéma vérité.

Luchino Visconti (19) went on to become one of the great Italian directors.  He is ranked among Italy's best, along with Fellini, Rossellini, Antonioni, Leone, and Di Sica.  His films most known to American audiences include Rocco and His Brothers (1960), The Leopard (1963) and Death in Venice (1971).  We will watch some of his films later this year.

Monsieur Dufour takes his wife Juliette, her mother, their daughter Henriette, and her fiancé Anatole on a picnic in the country.  While there, they meet Henri and Rodolphe, who immediately compete with each other over Henriette.  While the men go fishing, Henri succeeds in getting Henriette into his skiff, and Rodolphe settles for the mother in his.  The two couples each go for a separate ride along the river.  Henri and Henriette end up in a secluded spot.  He seduces her.  She resists and then relents.  One can see in her eyes her struggle between her desire for Henri and her duty to Anatole.  Years later she is married to Anatole and she meets Henri again when they return to the same spot.

She looks at him.

He tells her he remembers their time together.

She tells him she thinks about it every day.

Sunday, February 26, 2017

057 - Boudu Saved from Drowning, 1932, France. Dir. Jean Renoir.

Sunday, February 26, 2017

057 - Boudu Saved from Drowning, 1932, France. Dir. Jean Renoir.

Edouard Lestingois owns a bookstore.

Can you think of a more exciting situation in film history?

Yes.

He lives in an apartment in the bookstore, with secret doors and a spiral staircase leading back and forth between the two.

Now that is just about as wonderful as one can imagine.

But Renoir paints him as an upper-class merchant owner indulging in hypocrisy.

His bookstore is on a street along the Seine River.  His office overlooks the river.

His wife lives upstairs.  His mistress lives downstairs.

This is Paris in the 1930s.

His mistress is actually his servant girl, and his wife does not know about their extra-curricular reading.

But she will get her turn to do some reading of her own.

Boudu is a homeless man, with shaggy hair and a shaggy beard.  And a shaggy dog.

He sits in the park beneath a tree petting his dog.  His dog runs off.  He asks for help.  People turn away from him.  He asks a police officer.  The officer tells him to scram, or he will run him in.

A pretty woman approaches the officer, also looking for her dog, which in her case is worth a lot of money, and the officer is all too eager to help.

The film is a bit heavy-handed in its diatribe against hypocrisy.

Boudu throws himself in the river.

Lestingois sees it from his office balcony.

Lestingois saves Boudu from drowning.

The public view him as a hero.  Boudu is annoyed with him.  Lestingois does not see the big deal.

Lestingois allows Boudu to live in the apartment with them.  He dresses him well and gives him leeway.  He indulges him.

And to his surprise, and to his wife's chagrin, Boudu's nature does not change.  He does not awaken the next morning behaving as an upper-class merchant owner who grew up in cotillion.  He behaves as an overdressed homeless man living in a luxury apartment.

And ruining it.

He is a bull in a china shop.

One gets the impression Renoir took pleasure in cracking the crystal of the upper-class mores with which he would have been all-too-familiar.

Boudu will seduce the wife.

Boudu will win the lottery.

Boudu will marry the servant girl.

And where do you think Boudu will prefer to be?

Alone.  Homeless.  Begging bread.  Scavenging along the river.

Remember the river.  It will play heavily in the films of Jean Renoir.

Saturday, February 25, 2017

056 - La Chienne, 1931, France. Dir. Jean Renoir.

Saturday, February 25, 2017

056 - La Chienne, 1931, France. Dir. Jean Renoir.

Every frame a Renoir!

We will discuss that later.

Meanwhile, the pimp is getting rich off the prostitute.

But not by her doing that.

He is struggling by her doing that.  He has a spending problem.  He always needs money.  He is always in debt.

No, he is getting rich off her by her doing something else.

What is she doing?

Not painting.

What?

She is not painting.

She is pretending to be a painter.

And that brings in the big bucks.

The two of them got into an argument in the street one night.  They were in the neighborhood of the Moulin Rouge outside a hosiery company.

The gentlemen of the hosiery company stayed late that night.  They had a meeting.  They catered dinner.  It turned into a good time.  They decided to go out.  All except one of them.  All except M. Legrand.

Maurice Legrand has the face of the cross-section of a banana.

He stresses.  And when he stresses he fills his cheeks with air.  He fills his lower lip with air.

Maurice Legrand is a stuffed shirt.  A wet blanket.  A stick in the mud.  A fuddy duddy.  He is proper.  He does everything according to an inner set of principles.  He lives life in a predictable and upright manner.  He is the dream employee of the company.  He is just not available for going out on the town.

M. Legrand goes home alone.  He sees the prostitute and the pimp--Lulu and Dede, really!--having their fight.  Dede hits Lulu.  He knocks her to the pavement.  She is hurting.

M. Legrand is chivalrous.  A respecter of ladies.  A knight in shining armor.  He comes to Lulu's defense.  He attacks Dede.  Pushes him to the ground.  Dede fights back.  Lulu fights back.

Lulu fights back?

Dede has physically attacked Lulu.  Verbally abused her.  Treated her like dirt.  Like his own personal slave.

Legrand is a good man.  He has come to her rescue.

Lulu sides with Dede.

You have seen it.

The woman wants to be loved.  She wants to feel safe.  She wants to be protected.  She wants to receive attention.  She wants to feel special.

Except she aims her life in the opposite direction.

She hooks up with the bad boy.  The player.  The abuser.  He makes her feel something.  And somehow she places that feeling above her own self worth.

She trades in love for drama.  Safety for excitement.  Protection for intoxication.  Loving attention for desperate begging.  Feeling special for feeling used.

She tries to change a man who will not change.

She tries to please a man who will never appreciate her.

She attacks the man who comes to her rescue.

She got high off the bad boy once.  Then she got hooked on him.  Now she needs her fix.  She is addicted.

Dede is no dummy.  He knows how to work a woman.  He works it out with Legrand.  He tells them they are okay.  They were just having an altercation.  A couples' spat.  He invites him to join them.

The three of them go together.  They arrive at Dede's place.  Dede whispers to Lulu.  Let Legrand take you home.  Work him.  Take his money.  Do not come back unless you have it.

Lulu obeys.

Legrand walks Lulu home.  He is a gentleman.  He does not take advantage of her.  He treats her with respect.  He sees her beauty.  He values her worth.  He falls for her.

She despises him.

Legrand has the ability to rescue Lulu, but she looks down on him as much as Dede looks down on her.  They are in a chain of abuse.  She passes the abuse down the chain.

Legrand has his own challenges.

He too is abused at home.

His own wife, Adele, used to be married to a soldier.  A war hero.  He died in battle.  She keeps his pictures prominently displayed in the home where Maurice can see them.  She talks about him.  Compares the two of them.  Tells Maurice he can never measure up to her first husband.

Legrand is a painter.  Adele despises him.  Painting is a waste of time.  Your canvases are junk.  Your paints are junk.  Get your junk out of my house.

A contentious wife is like a continual dripping on a rainy day.

Adele uses her words to belittle Legrand.  All day every day.  She cuts him.  Reduces him.  Deflates him.  He longs for a way out.

The man needs love too.

Legrand turns to Lulu.  He gets her an apartment.  Furnishes it.  Puts her up.  Puts his paintings on the wall.  Takes care of her.

The kept man is keeping the kept woman.

Only Dede is siphoning it off.

Legrand has no money.  He sneaks it from his wife.  He gives it to Lulu.  Lulu has no money.  Dede sneaks it from her.

Legrand and Lulu are at the bottom of the chain of abuse, and Legrand is further beneath Lulu.

And he is the only good person in the whole lot of them.

Dede has gone through all of Lulu's money.  He wants more.  She does not have it.  He hits her.  He takes her paintings off the wall.

And with the paintings everything changes.

The paintings are unsigned.  Legrand has so little self-esteem that he thinks his own paintings are not worth signing.

But in the art world the signature is everything.

The art dealer tells Dede that when selling a painting, the quality of the painting does not matter.  The signature is the only thing that matters.

The art critic explains that the critics set the prices.  They tell the public what is good and what is bad, and the public believes them.

This film is cynical about the art world.  Maybe the director knows something.

The art critic goes in with Dede.  They make up a name.  Clara Wood.  The name of a filly that lost the horse race that day and lost Dede's buddy his money.  The art critic will tell the public that Clara Wood is a great painter.  He will make her name great.  He will make all them a lot of money.

Lulu is now a prostitute for Dede in two ways.  First, in the way that you know.  Second, as the face and body of a painter who does not exist.

Legrand is now a prostitute for Lulu.  He paints paintings for her.  She signs them.  She makes Dede and his buddy and the art critic and the art dealer a lot of money.  She and Legrand still have none.

Paintings are a commodity.

Human talent is a commodity.

Human bodies are a commodity.

Human beings are a commodity.

Something comes out later in the film that is stunning.  When Dede is later accused, he is not accused of prostituting women.  He is accused of white slavery.  He cavalierly responds that he introduces young girls to great men and shows them the world.

This is 1931, and we are not talking about local street prostitution.  We are talking about international human trafficking.

Some things never change.

Legand's own lack of self worth is cemented in one scene.  He walks down the sidewalk to the art dealer.  He sees his own painting prominently displayed in the window.

He steps inside.  He makes up an excuse for being there.  As if he has to have an excuse!  He tells the saleslady that he was sent by his employer to check on the price of the painting.

She tells him 25,000 francs.  He nods and leaves.  He never does anything to claim his rightful place as the painter of the paintings.

In 1931 the exchange rate of French francs to U.S. dollars was 25.51 to 1.  So for ease, let us say that in 1931 25,000 francs was roughly $1,000.

$1,000 in 1931 is worth $15,976.25 in 2017.

Legrand has the ability to make $16,000 by selling one painting.  And he has painted many paintings.  And he can paint more at a fairly good pace.

Legrand has the ability to be a rich man.  A great man.  A world-class man.

Yet he lives like a pauper, abused by his wife at home, abused by his mistress in her apartment, abused by the pimp, abused unknowingly by the public at large.

And by the way, she never yet has slept with him.  The prostitute refuses to sleep with the man who provides for her!  How low can a man be?

This will not end well.

Something bad will happen.

And there will be some surprises.

And every person involved will experience consequences of some kind.

The film is entitled La Chienne.  The word la chienne means "the bitch."  This is 1931.  We are not pulling any punches.

And do we even know to whom the title refers?  Could it not be more than one person?  Legrand finally calls Lulu by that name when at the end of everything he still tries to rescue her and she still laughs at him.  Yet his wife drove him to all of this to begin with.

The drama in this film is palpable.

This film, whose plot hinges on paintings, was directed by Jean Renoir.

Jean Renoir was the son of one of the greatest painters in the world.

And we will discuss that phenomenon later.

Friday, February 24, 2017

055 - Solaris, 1972, Soviet Union. Dir. Andrei Tarkovsky.

Friday, February 24, 2017

055 - Solaris, 1972, Soviet Union. Dir. Andrei Tarkovsky.

I had a feeling this would end badly.

So says Kris Kelvin.

He is the psychologist sent up to the space station to find out what is going wrong with the cosmonauts.  They have been up there for years, and they have made almost no progress.  Meanwhile, they seem to be languishing in some kind of emotional languor.

And seeing things.

Years ago, space pilot Berton went up and saw what was going on.  When he came back and described his findings to the oversight committee, the bureaucratically minded members dismissed him as having had hallucinations.

He insists he did not.

He shows film as evidence.  It was foggy that day.  They complain of seeing only clouds.  They refuse to believe him.  One member posits a theory but is overruled.

Berton saw people.  Or maybe not people.  Maybe apparitions of people.  Or reproductions of people.  Coming out of the planet's Ocean.

The Ocean is a brain.

It thinks.

It can sense your memories and reproduce them.

It can make them come to life and join you.

And never, ever leave.

This is the opposite of the sea of forgetfulness.  In Christian theology, when God forgives you he places even the memory of your sin into the sea of forgetfulness.  It is as though it has never happened.  There is no record of it.

In the Solaris universe, the memory never goes away.

The Solaris Ocean is the sea of the memory of your guilt.  It takes those memories and makes them come alive and live with you.

Yikes.

Berton warns Kelvin before the psychologist goes up to the station.  But Kelvin does not believe him.  Kelvin insults him.

They are at Kelvin's parents' house.  Kelvin has been standing by the pond.  Watching the tall grass ripple beneath the water.  Allowing the ministrations of nature to refresh him.  Ruminating while holding a metal box.  I wonder what is inside it.

Now they are in the house.  Berton shows footage of the hearing to Kelvin and his parents.  Kelvin remains skeptical.  He approaches science coldly.  His father and Berton approach it with morality.  His father reprimands him.  Kelvin was rude to Berton.

And he did not heed the warning.

Too late now.  Now we are on the space station.  Kelvin has his own apparition.  His ex-wife Hari.

She is not a real person.

But she wants to be.

When we watched World on a Wire (047, February 16), we listed other stories where a created thing wants to become a real person.  Here is another one.

The real Hari committed suicide ten years ago.  This Ocean-generated version thinks she is the real one.  She does not understand that from which she has come.  She wants Kelvin to love her.

He is spooked.  He is with a ghost.  He tries to get rid of her.  He places her in a rocket and launches it from the space station.

She comes back.  She hurts herself.  She heals.  She will kill herself.  She will come back to life.

Dr. Sartorius will comment, "I can never get used to all these resurrections."

Imagine Bill Murray in Groundhog Day.  No matter what he does, he wakes up again the next day.  In his case it is the same day, repeated endlessly.  Here, it is not the same day.  It is the next day.  But Hari wakes up again, never dying.  Always reborn.

Dr. Sartorius should be familiar to you.  He is played by the actor Anatoliy Solonitsyn.  Solonitsyn played Andrei Rublev in yesterday's film of the same name.  Solonitsyn has range.  Tarkovsky is loyal.

And while we are at it, let us note Nikolay Grinko, another Tarkovsky regular.  He played Gryaznov in Ivan's Childhood from two days ago, and he played Danill, one of the other painters, in yesterday's Andrei Rublev.  Today he is Kris Kelvin's father.  Not that he can help Kris.  Kris has his own mind.  Grinko would go on to play in Tarkovsky's next two films, The Mirror and Stalker.

Remember that languor from which the cosmonauts were languishing?

Well, it gets to Kris Kelvin too.  He may be the psychologist, but he is also human, and he cannot escape the hold of this strange force.

He falls in love with Hari.

That is not good though.  He is made of atoms.  She is made of neutrinos.  Miscegenation has run amok.  What would their children look like?  Some groups just should not come together.

Forgive the sarcasm.  It really is a problem.  She is after all not real, and she is haunting him.

Sartorius warns him, "The more she is with you the more human she will become."

Maybe that will solve it.

Maybe it will make things worse.

What will come of Kris Kelvin?  Will he stay on board the space station to be with Hari?  Will he return to Earth?  Will he explore Solaris?

Or will he go home as a prodigal to his father?

To the memory of the father he ignored and left behind?

*                              *                              *                              *                              *

Every frame a Bruegel.

The space station above the planet Solaris is replete with art work.  Those cosmonauts are connoisseurs.  They have a Greek bust, a Venus de Milo, a butterfly collection (all of which mysteriously are also on display in the home of Kris Kelvin's father), and Bruegels, Bruegels everywhere.

Pieter Bruegel the Elder, that is.  With a specific focus on The Hunters in the Snow (1565, oil on wood).

Is this a commentary on father-son relationships?  Does Pieter Bruegel the Younger come into play?

In painting, when you show only a part of a painting, like cropping it, boxing off one section to focus on that section alone, you call it a "detail."

The camera will slowly pan across the painting The Hunters in the Snow, creating literally in every frame a detail, a different detail in every frame, of this painting.


*                              *                              *                              *                              *

The 1970s and Science Fiction

In 1968 Stanley Kubrick released his classic film 2001: A Space Odyssey.  Was that movie responsible for launching a decade of science fiction films?  Was it already popular in the literature?  Was it due to the advances in technology at the time?  Was it the space race that culminated in man's landing on the moon on July 20, 1969?

Whatever it was, people had science fiction, and space travel in particular, on the brain.

Here is a list of science fiction films that came out during the decade of the 1970s.  What other titles could be added to the list?

1968
2001: A Space Odyssey, UK/USA. Dir. Stanley Kubrick.
Planet of the Apes, USA. Dir. Franklin J. Schaffner.

1970
Colossus: The Forbidden Project, USA. Dir. Joseph Sargent.
Crimes of the Future, Canada. Dir. David Cronenberg.

1971
The Andromeda Strain, USA. Dir. Robert Wise.
The Omega Man, USA. Dir. Boris Sagal.
THX 1138, USA. Dir. George Lucas.

1972
Solaris, Soviet Union, Russian. Dir. Andrei Tarkovsky.
Slaughterhouse Five, USA. Dir. George Roy Hill.
Silent Running, USA. Dir. Douglas Trumbull.

1973
World on a Wire, Germany. Dir. Rainer Werner Fassbinder.
Soylent Green, USA. Dir. Richard Fleischer.
Fantastic Planet, France. Dir. Rene Laloux.
Sleeper, USA. Dir. Woody Allen.
Westworld, USA. Dir. Michael Crichton.
Idaho Transfer, USA. Dir. Peter Fonda.

1974
Zardoz, Ireland/USA. Dir. John Boorman.
The Terminal Man, USA. Dir. Mike Hodges.
Dark Star, USA. Dir. John Carpenter.
Phase Four, UK/USA. Dir. Saul Bass.

1975
The Stepford Wives, USA. Dir. Bryan Forbes.
Rollerball, UK/USA. Dir. Norman Jewison.
A Boy and His Dog, USA. Dir. L.Q. Jones.

1976
Logan's Run, USA. Dir. Michael Anderson.
The Man Who Fell to Earth, UK. Dir. Nicolas Roeg.
Futureworld, USA. Dir. Richard T. Heffron.

1977
Star Wars, USA. Dir. George Lucas.
Close Encounters of the Third Kind, USA. Dir. Steven Spielberg.
Capricorn One, USA. Dir. Peter Hyams.
The Incredible Melting Man, USA. Dir. William Sachs.

1978
Superman, USA. Dir. Richard Donner.
Invasion of the Body Snatchers, USA. Dir. Philip Kaufman.

1979
Star Trek: The Motion Picture, USA. Dir. Robert Wise.
Alien, USA. Dir. Ridley Scott.
Mad Max, Australia. Dir. George Miller.
Stalker, Soviet Union. Dir. Andrei Tarkovsky.
Quintet, USA. Dir. Robert Altman.
The Black Hole, USA. Dir. Gary Nelson.
Starcrash, USA. Dir. Luigi Cozzi.
Time After Time, USA. Dir. Nicholas Meyer.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

054 - Andrei Rublev, 1966, Soviet Union. Dir. Andrei Tarkovsky.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

054 - Andrei Rublev, 1966, Soviet Union. Dir. Andrei Tarkovsky.

How can she be a virgin if she has a son?

That is the question.  The mystery of faith.

A Tatar asks the question.  The Mongols have invaded Russia. 

This is in violation of the belief quoted by the locals, "No Tatar shall ever set foot on Russian soil."

That did not work out.

They have attacked the city of Vladimir, killed men, raped women, burned buildings, speared horses, and set cows on fire.  They are now at the church.  A couple of them take a moment to observe the artwork they see before setting fire to it.

Andrei Rublev is the artist.  He painted the artwork.  The altarpieces.  He is inside the church.

Many of the town's citizens are inside the church.  Taking refuge.  They are massacred.

The blood of Christians is seed.

A man is tortured for information.  Where is the gold located?  He does not answer.  They melt a crucifix and pour the liquid metal in his mouth, tie him to a horse, and drag him through the streets.

These are not good people.

Andrei Rublev has with him in the church a woman named Durochka.  She is slow.  He protects her.  He kills a man in self-defense.  With an axe.

He and Durochka survive the massacre.  He imagines himself having a conversation with an older painter, Theophanes the Greek, now deceased, who had hired him years ago to paint with him.  He talks to him, confesses, seeks wisdom.  He has lost his paintings.  Humanity is evil.  He himself has sinned in killing a man.  What should he do?

Andrei Rublev decides to take a vow of silence and give up painting.

This is Act Six of eight acts.  Plus a prologue and epilogue.

We are in the middle of a three-and-a-half hour war epic.

Or are we?

Perhaps we are watching a biographical film of a historical figure.

Or a historical fiction of the time preceding the Tsars.

Or a meditation on the role of art and the artist in society, in this society, using another time to comment on the contemporary.

Or a contemplation on faith.  A theological film.  A moving icon.

Or all of these things and more.

Andrei Rublev is a master work by a master filmmaker.

He gives us aerial shots.  Extreme wide shots.  Highly composed shots.  Landscapes.  Framed around buildings, trees, and other objects.  Extreme close-ups.  Highly choreographed long takes.  Architecture.  Animals.  Weather.  Nature.  Texture.

We never witness Andrei Rublev in the act of painting.  Yet we contemplate the function of his art.  And consider the mysteries of faith and worship.

Sometimes we do not see him at all.

It is the story of three painters.  And a fourth.

The second act focuses on his colleague Kirill, who first meets Theophanes the Greek, who first is offered the job, and who offers first to serve him as a slave for life.  If only Theophanes will send for him at the monastery in front of the others so that they may know he wants him.

Theophanes does send his messenger to the monastery.  But sends for Andrei Rublev instead.  Kirill will abandon the monastery, accusing its adherents of being lovers of money.

The third act is a series of conversations.  Meditations on faith and sin.  Between Andrei Rublev and his current assistant Foma, between Andrei Rublev and Theophanes the Greek, and through the telling of the story of the crucifixion.

The fourth act is a pagan feast.  With naked people carrying torches.  Running headlong into the river.

Andrei is out of place here.

They know it too.  They tie him to a cross.  That will teach you not to trespass on our party.  A naked woman sets him free.  She defends their practices.  They are engaged in ritual too.

There is no irony in this scene.  It is not comfortable for him.  He is genuinely devout.  He does not wish to participate in this revelry.

He wishes to leave.

In the final chapter they will cast a great bell for the church.

Kirill will return and plead with Andrei Rublev to paint again.  He will repent for his own jealousy.

Many more things happen in this film.

The Grand Prince and his mansion and his campaigns.  His brother and his brother's betrayals.

At the same time, many things do not happen.

Not all is action.  Much is reflection.

The mysteries of faith.

Watch and reflect.  Watch and see.

In the epilogue the camera moves across the icons themselves.  The real ones.  That the real Andrei Rublev painted.  In full color.

We stop and look.  And contemplate.

The film itself becomes an icon.

Every frame a Rublev.


*                               *                               *                               *                               *


Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord.  Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow.

When we saw Three Colors: Blue (017, January 17), we watched as the choir sang 1 Corinthians 13.

This is the second movie we are seeing where long sections from this passage are delivered to the viewer.

We hear 1 Corinthians spoken in voice-over as Andrei Rublev plays joyfully with a little girl in the church.

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child, but when I became a man, I put away childish things.  For now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face.  Now I know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known.  And now abideth faith, hope, and charity, but the greatest of these is charity.

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.  And though I have the gift of prophecy and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.  And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.

Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

Charity never faileth, but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.  For we know in part. . . .


And the verse is given in part.

The girl splashes milk on him.  He stops reciting.  He laughs.  He corrects her.

He practices what he confesses.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

053 - Ivan's Childhood, 1962, Soviet Union. Dir. Andrei Tarkovsky.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

053 - Ivan's Childhood, 1962, Soviet Union. Dir. Andrei Tarkovsky.

Ivan is 12 years old.

At least Lieutenant Galtsev says he looks 12 years old.

Galtsev is interrogating Ivan.  Trying to figure out who he is and what he is doing.

Ivan has just crossed the river, and the swamp, across waters in which most adults would drown.

He has been picked up by the Russian soldiers.  He acts like an adult.  He demands they call Number 51 at Headquarters so that he can make his report.

Galtsev threatens Ivan.  Tells him to take off his cold, wet clothes.  Take a bath.  Eat something.  Tell us who you are and what you are doing.  Stop demanding things and do as you are told.

Ivan does not do as he is told.  Ever.  By anyone.  He is a force of will.  He is a force of nature.

Ivan prevails upon Galtsev in making the call.  Galtsev is told to give him a pencil and paper and let him make his report.

His report?

This twelve-year old boy who just swam across an impossible swamp and river from German-occupied territory is a scout?

Ivan makes his report.

He goes all the way up the chain of command to Kholin.  Kholin appreciates what Ivan has done but is sending him to military school.  Ivan protests.  Kholin does not care.  Ivan refuses.  Kholin stands firm.  Ivan rebels.

Who is going to win this battle?

Ivan wins.

This 12-year old boy behaves as though he has never had a fear in his life.  He stands up to grown-ups.  To officers.  To generals.  Nobody tells him what to do.

Yet his resolute defiance does not manifest itself as brattiness but as single-minded, stone-cold, iron-focused heroism.

Is he the boy Joan of Arc of Russia?

This is Ivan's childhood.

What war does to people.

What it takes away.

What it gives.

What it changes forever.

Ivan has another childhood.  A childhood of his own dreams.

In this other childhood Ivan is a boy.  A real boy.  Innocent.  Carefree.  Smiling.

In the childhood of his dreams, Ivan runs on the beach with his sister, rides on an apple wagon, eats fresh apples, interacts with horses and deer, laughs, plays, even flies.

And most of all--

In the childhood of his dreams, Ivan still has his mother.

She is not dead in his dreams.

Not killed by German soldiers.

In his dreams she is with him.  They are together.  They are smiling.

In life he is an orphan.  He is fierce and defiant.  In his dreams he has a family.  He is loving and free.

Allow me to introduce you to Andrei Tarkovsky.

The giant of Russian cinema.

There was Eisenstein.  The master of silent films and historical epics.  A kind of D.W. Griffith and Cecil B. DeMille of Russian cinema.

And then there was Tarkovsky.

Let us sit at his feet for a few days.  For three short days which will go by all too quickly.

And learn from him.

The Criterion collection has a two-movie double-disc called The Killers.  It is based on Ernest Hemingway's short story "The Killers."  It contains the 1946 black-and-white film noir version directed by Robert Siodmak.  And it contains the 1964 full-color version directed by Don Siegel (later known for directing Clint Eastwood in movies such as Dirty Harry).  The latter version's all-star cast includes our director friend John Cassavetes from earlier this year and Ronald Reagan in a tough-guy role giving it to Angie Dickinson.

The double-disc contains something else.

It contains the 1956 student film "The Killers," made by Andrei Tarkovsky while a student at Soviet film school.  He was studying Siodmak, studying American film noir, and thereby indirectly studying the economy of Hemingway's prose style.

Now here he is in 1962 directing his first feature film.

His first!

An assignment.  Given to him when the original director did not work out.

This is a work-for-hire by a rookie.  Still in his twenties.  Not quite thirty.

It is a masterpiece.

What can you say?

The oft-voted greatest film of all time, Citizen Kane, was directed by a rookie.  In his twenties.

Ivan's Childhood stands without flinching in that kind of company.

The film is replete with symbolism.  Not that Tarkovsky planned it that way as an intellectual exercise.  He is a poet.  It is more that he saw it intuitively.  Organically.  He knew it.  He was born knowing it.  He felt it.  He did it.  It was inside him.

Are we looking from the top of the well down to the bottom of the well at the reflection back at the top of the well?  Or are we looking in the reflection of the water at the bottom of the well back at the top of the well?  Or are we beneath the water looking back at the top of the well?  Or does it change?

The bucket falls.  Splash.  We are now outside the well.

Ingmar Bergman is considered by many to be the great master of world cinema.  He had a long and prolific career.  He wrote and directed many plays.  He wrote and directed many movies.  He wrote about complex life issues and the mysteries of the human heart.  He was a filmmaker of light and shadow.  He was a filmmaker of the soul.  We will watch many of his movies later this year.

This is what Ingmar Bergman said of Andrei Tarkovsky (as included in Criterion's literature on Andrei Rublev).

"My discovery of Tarkovsky's first film [Ivan's Childhood] was like a miracle.  Suddenly I found myself standing at the door of a room, the keys to which, until then, had never been given to me.  It was a room I had always wanted to enter and where he was moving freely and fully at ease.  I felt encouraged and stimulated: someone was expressing what I had always wanted to say without knowing how.  Tarkovsky is for me the greatest, the one who invented a new language, true to the nature of film, as it captures life as a reflection, life as a dream."

If Bergman has that to say about Tarkovsky, it behooves us to listen.

Nikolay Burlyaev, as Ivan, gives one of the great performances by a child in cinema history.  I know.  I have three children who are professional actors, and we study their predecessors.  Burlyaev would go on to work well into the 1990s.

He is alive today.  He is only 70.  Somebody hire him!

There is also a love story among the adults.

And the war story.

This is the kind of movie you want to watch.  And then think about.  And then watch again.  And discuss.  And read about.  And look at pictures.  And watch again.

The movie stays with you.

Ivan stays with you.

Tarkovsky stays with you.

This is Ivan's childhood.

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

052 - Ballad of a Soldier, 1959, Soviet Union. Dir. Grigoriy Chukhray.

Tuesday, February, 21, 2017

052 - Ballad of a Soldier, 1959, Soviet Union. Dir. Grigoriy Chukhray.

Do you believe in friendship? . . . I mean between a boy and a girl.

This is the question the girl Shura asks the army private Alyosha.

They are on a train.  In a freight car.  Sitting on hay bales.

She had snuck into the freight car not knowing he was already there.  When she saw him, she panicked and tried to jump off, even though the train was moving fast by then.  She had assumed he was hiding, lying in wait, looking to pounce.  He had tried to stop her from jumping, but his actions only reinforced her fears.

She says she has jumped the train to go home, to see her fiancé, a war pilot, recovering in the hospital.

He is on the train on leave, going home to see his mother.

The guard has already allowed him on after demanding a bribe of canned meat.  The guard claims that the lieutenant is a beast and that Alyosha will need the guard to protect him.  Now the train has stopped again, and the guard has demanded two more cans--in exchange for Alyosha, for the new girl that is now with him, and for the insult Alyosha has just made to the guard.

The lieutenant catches them, looks at Alyosha's papers, sees that Alyosha is a hero, commends him, and lets him stay on the train.  He assumes that Shura is with Alyosha and allows it.  Then he requires the guard to return the two cans of meat, and he commits him to five days in the stockade.  The lieutenant is a beast--to the guard.

Shura sees that Alyosha is good, that he is not a threat to her, that he intended her no harm.  They were both on the train in hiding.  Both heading home.  Both in danger of being caught.

She looks at him and asks the question.

Do you believe in friendship? . . . I mean between a boy and a girl.

She is, after all, engaged to someone else.

He enthusiastically agrees.  Yes.  A boy and a girl can be friends.

The train moves on.  Shura's eyes sparkle.  Alyosha does not notice.

Alyosha is a private in the army, and we began the movie with him in position, on the front, a signalman, watching enemy tanks approach.  His comrade insists that they must flee.  He insists that he has a duty to report the number and position of the tanks.  His comrade runs.  He stands firmly.  He picks up the field telephone.  He places the call.  He makes his report.

The tanks are driving up on him.

He runs from a tank.  It chases him.  An army tank chasing a single man.

A 19-year old man.

A boy.

He dives into a hole.  A shallow bunker.  Behind some barbed wire.  The tank can run over the barbed wire.  But it gives him time to set up his gun.  He fires.  The tank retreats.  He fires again.  Another tank.

He takes out two tanks from his position in the hole.  The shallow bunker.

Alyosha is a hero.  The general wants to decorate him.  He asks respectfully if instead he may take leave to visit his mother, to hug her and to fix her roof.  She has written him that the roof is leaking.

Alyosha requests a day.  The general gives him six days--two to go, two to be there, two to return.  Just be sure to be back on time.

Alyosha goes.  He meets people along the way.  We see his goodness.

He agrees to take two cakes of soap--the rations of an entire platoon--back to a soldier's wife to let her know that her husband is alive and thinking of her.  The entire platoon insists on it.  We will find out what happens when we get there.

He meets another soldier who is missing one leg and giving up in despair, assuming that his wife will not want him.  Alyosha insists that he return to his wife, and he helps him home.  She greets him with open arms.

Will Alyosha make it home?  Will he see his mother?  Will he fix the leaking roof?

Will he make it back to the front on time?

Will he have a friendship with Shura?

The actor, Vladimir Ivashov, plays Alyosha with courage, innocence, spontaneity, joy.  He is a most likeable and most remarkable character.  It was his first film.  Ivashov would go on to act in films for several more decades.

Alyosha's mother comments on him at the beginning and end of the film.

The life that could have been.

The life that was.

Monday, February 20, 2017

051 - Letter Never Sent, 1959, Soviet Union. Dir. Mikhail Kalatozov.

Monday, February 20, 2017

051 - Letter Never Sent, 1959, Soviet Union. Dir. Mikhail Kalatozov.

Our girl from yesterday is back.

Tatyana Samoylova, who played Veronica in The Cranes Are Flying (050, February 19), now plays Tanya in Letter Never Sent.

She is a different character.

Yesterday's film took place in a time of war.

Today's film takes place in a time of peace.

Yesterday Veronica was in love, and it consumed her life.

Today Veronica is in love, and it helps to fulfill her life.

Yesterday her lover was at war, and she was alone and worried about him.

Today her lover is with her, and they work side by side.

In fact, this element is less important to the story than the work they are doing and the people with whom they are doing it.

We now have an ensemble.  Four people.  Three geologists and a guide.  Working together in the Siberian wilderness.  Searching for prospected diamonds.

They are working for their country, for the glory of the fatherland, for progress.

We begin by dropping them off in the woods, in the water, in many square miles of undeveloped territory.

They are happy, hopeful, enthusiastic.

But their mettle will be tested to the core.

Man Against Nature.

Man Against Himself

This is the Soviet version of Jack London.  "To Build a Fire."  White FangThe Call of the Wild.

Or Hemingway.  The Old Man and the Sea.

With four people.

And four elements.  Earth.  Wind.  Fire.  Water.

Ravaging them.

We begin with earth.  We walk among the weeds.  The grass is taller than they are.

They dig.

The first part of the film is searching for the diamonds.  Digging.  Digging.  Overcoming hardship.  Persevering.  Trying not to give up.

There is a love triangle, but it is not pronounced.  The other man who desires her finds a way to keep himself constrained in his professionalism.  All but once.  She rebuffs him, and he returns to his work.

The fourth man writes the letter.  To his wife.  Pages and pages of writing.  One day he will send the pages.

If he makes it back.

They find the diamonds.

They report it.

They celebrate.

The movie could have ended there and made a complete story.

But this story is just beginning.

Now comes the fire.

A forest fire.  Roaring.  Raging.  Blazing.

It cuts off access.  To the river.  To their boat.  To their supplies.

Now what?

Will they make it back?

Will some of them make it back?

Will one of them make it back?

Will the letter ever be sent?

Will the map to the diamonds be delivered?

Will their work have been done in vain?

If you want to watch a story where man is tested by nature, then this movie is for you.

If you want to watch a movie with beautiful images arrestingly filmed, then this movie is for you.

Consider this.

Director Mikhail Kalatozov is working with cinematographer Sergei Urusevsky on his second of three films.  They also worked together on yesterday's The Cranes Are Flying (1957) and would again on I Am Cuba (1964).

The three films together form a film school of cinematographic invention.  Urusevsky is cited in the accompanying material as having developed new tools and techniques, including round camera rails, subjective camera angles taken by the actors, and new uses of handheld cameras, focal length, and lighting.

In this film, he uses many long takes, on location, in nature, with the actors choreographed in highly complicated ways interacting with wind, water, trees, fire, and animals.

Imagine the camera watching two men hunting, following their moves, tilting, panning, zooming in, zooming out, following them as they run, walk, crouch, stand, fall, get up, aim, shoot, and negotiate trees branches, all in one take for over two minutes.

All highly choreographed and highly rehearsed.

With real fire all around them.  And real wind.  Real water.  And real tree branches.

This film is filled with shots like this.  Fifty-six years before The Revenant.

The human elements in this film will resonate with you.

But the political motivations of the film may seem foreign to you.

We understand sacrificing for others, for loved ones, for friends, for people.

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man should lay his life down for his friends (John 15:13).

But for the State?

That is a lot to ask.

And for what return?

Sunday, February 19, 2017

050 - The Cranes Are Flying, 1957, Soviet Union. Dir. Mikhail Kalatozov.

Sunday, February 19, 2017

050 - The Cranes Are Flying, 1957, Soviet Union. Dir. Mikhail Kalatozov.

Boris and Veronica are in love.

Mark loves Veronica too.  Mark is Boris's cousin.  Mark lives with Boris.

Veronica does not love Mark.

Can you smell trouble?

Oh, those love triangles.  They make things complicated.

It is war time.

Both men are intelligent, talented, gifted, and could get an exemption from the war.

This is the Soviet Union.  The best and brightest are spared.

Boris does not seek an exemption.  He volunteers.  He is a hero.

Mark gets an exemption.

Boris calls Veronica Squirrel.  He gets her a toy squirrel for her birthday and places a love letter beneath some golden nuts in its basket.  She does not find the letter.

She goes to say Goodbye but cannot find him in the crowd.  The men march off.

The city is bombed.  Veronica's home is bombed.  She cannot find her parents.

Boris's father moves her in to take care of her.

He knows that she will marry Boris when he returns.  She will be his future daughter-in-law.

He and his wife work at the hospital.  They take care of the wounded.  They work night and day, so they are not home very much.

Therefore, he asks Mark to take care of Veronica.

Can you smell trouble?

Tatiana Samoilova plays Veronica with psychological depth and complexity.

The film won the Palme d'Or at the 1958 Cannes Film Festival.

Boris and Veronica used to look up at the sky and watch the cranes flying in a V-shaped pattern.

He wrote a poem.

She quoted it.

She awaits his letters.

Saturday, February 18, 2017

049 - The American Friend, 1977, Germany. Dir. Wim Wenders.

Saturday, February 18, 2017

049 - The American Friend, 1977, Germany. Dir. Wim Wenders.

The title The Talented Mr. Ripley refers to the fictional character Tom Ripley.

Here is a quiz for you.  See if you can get it right.

Who played Tom Ripley?

a) Matt Damon
b) John Malkovich
c) Dennis Hopper
d) Alain Delon
e) Barry Pepper

What is your answer?  Write it down or shout it out loud.  We will review it in a moment.

Patricia Highsmith wrote five novels featuring the protagonist Tom Ripley.  She wrote them over the course of 36 years, from 1955 to 1991.  The Ripley character was popular.  He was a man of taste and culture, but a con man.  He used his wiles to get money and to associate with rich and privileged people.  He was clever.

The first three novels were made into movies.  Our movie was made from the third novel.

How did you do on the quiz?

Did you say a) Matt Damon?

If you did, then you are partially correct.

The correct answer to the quiz is ALL OF THE ABOVE.

Today's talented Mr. Ripley is Dennis Hopper.  Yes, that Dennis Hopper.

The one who seems like Owen Wilson's secret father.

The one who seems to play all his parts high or hung over.  Always a mixture of ultimate relaxation and imminent combustion.

The one who forms words in the back of his throat and pushes them up across his upper palate and through his nose, never letting a sound come down to the bottom of his mouth.

The one who is willing to get his hands dirty.  Who may, in fact, never wash his hands.

Our film begins with our con man Tom Ripley asking that all-important question--

"What's wrong with a cowboy in Hamburg?"

I know you have been wondering that yourself, so now you may be relieved that someone would come out and ask the question for you.  Thank you, Dennis Hopper for asking it for us.

Ripley has come to the studio of a painter, an art forgerer, to pay him for his last painting, which sold at auction, successfully, under the guise of the work of a great painter.  He needs more paintings.  The painter, a German, teases him, an American, about his cowboy hat.  He asks our question.

At the next auction, in Hamburg, he bids up one of the fogerer's forgeries until some uninformed sap pays handsomely for it.  He meets a framer.  The framer is rude to him.  He refuses to shake his hand.  He has heard of Ripley, and believes Ripley does not have a healthy appreciation for art.

After the framer leaves, Ripley learns that the framer is sick, potentially terminally.

Ah, just the man for Ripley's next scheme.

Assassin for hire.  Must be a novice.  Must have no experience.  Must be on the verge of death.

When we watched John Cassavetes' film The Killing of a Chinese Bookie (34, February 3), we saw a man get suckered by some gangsters into conducting a killing for them.  He was a decent man.  He owned a strip club, but he left others alone.  He would never hurt someone like that, let alone kill anyone.  But they got him over a barrel with gambling debts and forced him into acquiescence through subservience.

Here in Wim Wenders' film The American Friend, Jonathan Zimmermann, played by Bruno Ganz, will also be conscripted into service as an assassin through the manipulations of others.  In this case, his doctor has informed him that he has a blood disease.  Ripley overhears that he is sick, so Ripley spreads the rumor that he is dying.  Then Ripley comes to him to order an engraving to be framed.  In the process, he becomes his American friend.

Ripley compliments Zimmermann.  He says that he has heard that he is a great craftsmen.  Have you ever thought of a picture framer as being a fine artist?  Is it more than a teenager's summer job at Hobby Lobby?  Remember when we discovered Jacques Tati, we learned that his father was a picture framer, and that Tati grew up with Vincent Van Gogh and Toulouse Lautrec as family friends.  This is high-end stuff we are talking about.

Ripley's men have successfully created in Zimmermann a sense of fear and desperation that he is about to die.  He pesters his own doctor with pleas for more information.  His doctor does not share his sense of urgency.  So Ripley's men call Zimmermann from Paris and have him fly to Paris to get a second opinion at a local hospital--on a Sunday!  There he is given the (false) information that yes, indeed, you are about to die.  Very soon.  Now that you know this, you can take care of your wife and son by committing this murder for us.  If you do, we will pay you handsomely for it.  You can provide for your wife and son.  They will live a good life after you're gone.  And it will no matter if you get caught, because you are going to die anyway.

What a set-up.

Get an amateur to do your killing for you, so that you are not responsible.

Get a terminally ill man to do it, because it will not longer matter to him, and he will be motivated to care for his family.

If only Zimmermann knew that his death was not that imminent.

The downside of using an amateur is that an amateur is an amateur and will behave like an amateur.

They give him strict instructions to shoot the man and then behave as though nothing had happened.  Keep the gun hidden under your overcoat.  Walk through the terminal as one of the crowd.  Do nothing to draw attention to yourself.  Quietly get on the train with the masses and be carried away.  No one will ever suspect you.

So what do you think the amateur will do?

He shoots him on an UP escalator.  Then he starts running DOWN the UP escalator in a panic!  He runs through the terminal, stopping and turning and looking around.  We watch him on the security monitors!  One after the next after the next.  Recording his every move.

Consider the apparition of Zimmermann's face in the crowd.  He may have killed the man in a station of the Metro, but he is definitely more than a petal on a wet, black bough.  He is freaking out.

Maybe there are other ways to provide for your family.

Zimmermann's wife will not appreciate that her husband is now sneaking around, using his disease to lie to her, or that all this money is now rolling in for no understandable reason.

The plot will only thicken.  Zimmerman is now in over his head.  Ripley will continue to play him.  Ripley may even be playing his own people.

Where will it all end?

The movie is filmed in warm colors and shows us the streets of Hamburg as well as shots of Paris on the Seine during a time when a lot of high-rise construction was going on.  Both of these cityscapes are inviting.

Time to plan a vacation.

How many movies have you seen set in Hamburg?  I can think of one other: Anton Corbijn's 2014 crime thriller A Most Wanted Man, starring Philip Seymour Hoffman, Rachel McAdams, Robin Wright, and Willem Dafoe.  Now there is a cast for you.  And those are just the Americans.  The locals are outstanding.

So what will happen to Zimmermann?  What will happen to Ripley?

Something about a white ambulance and a red Volkswagen Beetle.

In a climax by the sea.


*                              *                              *                              *                              *                              *


Here is a list of the Ripley novels and the movies made from them.

The Talented Mr. Ripley, 1955
          Studio One, "The Talented Mr. Ripley," 1956 - TV program
          Purple Noon, 1960 - Alain Delon
          The Talented Mr. Ripley, 1999 - Matt Damon
Ripley Under Ground, 1970
          Ripley Under Ground, 2005 - Barry Pepper
Ripley's Game, 1974
          The American Friend, 1977 - Dennis Hopper
          Ripley's Game, 2002 - John Malkovich
The Boy Who Followed Ripley, 1980
Ripley Under Water, 1991

Friday, February 17, 2017

048 - Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, 1974, Germany. Dir. Rainer Werner Fassbinder.

Friday, February 17, 2017

048 - Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, 1974, Germany. Dir. Rainer Werner Fassbinder.

Have you ever loved someone you were not supposed to love?

This movie is about an much older woman and a much younger man,

A local woman and a foreign man,

A white woman and a black man,

A Christian woman and a Arab man,

Which customers get served at which stores,

And policemen with long hair.

"With people like that in the house, dirt takes over."

"You put your own house in order, and I'll see to mine."

"In business you have to hide your aversions."

Fassbinder made this movie 43 years ago.

Have you ever loved someone you were not supposed to love?

Thursday, February 16, 2017

047 - World on a Wire, 1973, Germany. Dir. Werner Rainer Fassbinder.

Thursday, February 16, 2017

047 - World on a Wire, 1973, Germany. Dir Werner Rainer Fassbinder.

Are you for real?

What if you are the product of someone else's dream?  Or what if you live in a video game or a computer?  What if you are a character in a movie, a TV show, or a novel?  What if you are a toy, a stuffed animal, or an imaginary friend in someone's play world?

Before Christopher Nolan's Inception (2010),
before the Wachowskis' The Matrix (1999),
before Woody Allen's Purple Rose of Cairo (1985),
before David Cronenberg's Videodrome (1983),
before Ridley Scott's Blade Runner (1982),
before Steven Lisberger's Tron (1982),
before Captain Kangaroo's Simon,
before Gumby,

before all of them, there was World on a Wire (1973).  Based on the Daniel F. Galouye novel Simulacron-3 (1964).

Before that, there was the Philip K. Dick novel Time Out of Joint (1959).

Before that, there was Pinocchio.

Before all of it there was The Allegory of the Cave.

Plato wins.  He came first.

Fred Stiller is a programmer for IKZ, the Institute for Cybernetics and Future Science.  He creates "identity units," programmed objects inside the computer universe that function like people.  He and his team do such a good job that the identity units begin to think like people, have human problems, and desire to be real people.

The Science of Behavioral Modeling.

Stiller's boss, Henry Vollmer, discovers something in the process, and he dies suddenly.  The head of security for the company, Gunther Lause, disappears.  Stiller's secretary Maya disappears.  Vollmer's daughter Eva disappears and reappears.  Something is going on.

Stiller is promoted to Technical Director, taking Vollmer's position.  He gets a new secretary, Gloria Fromm, whose job description seems to be to distract him.  He goes inside the computer, to visit the world he created.  The first time, something goes wrong.  The second time, he meets with Einstein, the one identity unit (No. 0001) who knows what is going on.  They created one like this as a "contact unit."  Einstein was programmed to be smart and to understand the situation so that he can communicate with the programmers and other people outside the computer.  When Einstein sees Fred Stiller inside his own world, Einstein begs him to take him back with him.  He longs to be a real human being.

This film is entertaining, with a charming, athletic man of action as its lead.  Made when the James Bond franchise was smoking hot, World on a Wire features a Corvette Stingray, action, adventure, suspense, intrigue, romance, whiskey (instead of a vodka martini) and lots of chases by car and by foot.  Fred Stiller spends some of the time with the women in his life--his secretary Maya, his secretary Gloria, and Vollmer's daughter, Eva--some of the time on the job, doing good work and trying to solve a complex puzzle, and some of the time running for his life.

Will he crack the code or will he crack up?  Will he survive or will he be killed?  Will he find love or will he be forever alone?  He is like a film noir detective in this sense, the loner with a code of honor.

It is a science fiction film that acts like a detective action thriller.

And at over three hours it does not feel too long.  It was shown on two nights on German television, and the pacing is just right.

It was shot by the now legendary cinematographer Michael Ballhous, who made sixteen (16) movies with Fassbinder.  Through these films he became internationally known, and he would go on to shoot seven (7) movies with Martin Scorsese, as well as films for Francis Ford Coppola, John Sayles, James L. Brooks, Frank Oz, Mike Nichols, Irwin Winkler, Barry Levinson, Barry Sonenfeld, Nancy Meyers, and Robert Redford.

The camera work in World on a Wire is alive and exciting.  The camera moves a lot, and in unusual ways.  He dollies it across the floor.  He zooms in from a long shot to an extreme close-up.  He pans in full circles, and across multiple mirrors.  He starts on the main speaker in the scene and then moves behind a group of people and across a table of food, while the speaker is still speaking.  He cuts quickly.  He doesn't cut at all.  He does lots of things with the camera.  You can see why Scorsese would want to work with him.

Mirror, mirror on the wall!

And on the table.  And on the column.  And on the floor.  And in the car.  Mirrors, mirrors everywhere.  This film may very well have more mirrors in it than any film you have seen.  And just try seeing the cameraman or a crew member in a mirror.  They worked hard on this one.

The casting is also intriguing.  Fassbinder casts the leads from his company of regulars.  Margit Carstensen, whom we saw yesterday as the lead Petra Von Kant, comes back today in a supporting role as secretary Maya.  Several others from other Fassbinder movies do the same.  Then he fills out the other roles with veteran German actors from the past two or three decades, faces who are familiar to the audience of the time from having grown up with them.

Think about how Quentin Tarantino does this now, bringing back hot actors from the 1970s.  Fassbinder did it in the 1970s, bringing back hot actors from the 1950s.

One prime example is Eddie Constantine, who has a solid role in the second-half of the film, as the man in the Rolls Royce.  He himself had starred in Jean-Luc Godard's science-fiction film Alphaville (1965), nearly a decade before, and he himself had been popular for two decades.

World on a Wire for a long time was a lost film.  It aired over two nights on German television in 1973.  It aired once again in the late 1970s.  It was shown at a retrospective in 1992.  Beyond that it was almost never seen.  It was resurrected in 2010 by the Fassbinder Foundation and restored.  So for most of us it is as though it were a brand new movie.  Newly discovered.  Fresh and alive and exciting.

Let me know when you have seen it.  And let me know what you think.  So that I can ask you,

Are you for real?

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

046 - The Bitter Tears of Petra Von Kant, 1972, Germany. Dir. Rainer Werner Fassbinder.

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

046 - The Bitter Tears of Petra Von Kant: A Case History, 1972, Germany. Dir. Rainer Werner Fassbinder.

When was the last time you watched a movie for its wigs?

Or for its dresses.

Or for the drama caused by its brilliant, complex, ridiculous, tragic, petty protagonist.

Welcome to the world of Petra Von Kant.

A world composed entirely of a bedroom.  With its step-down extension.

The building is built on wooden beams.  Wrapped in window panes.  Allowing sunlight to spill in from all sides.

With a view in through two windows from around the corner.

The carpet is as deep as a snow bank.

Mannequins stand in every area.

The mural fills the wall above her bed.

It may not be every frame a Poussin, but there is a Poussin in every frame.

Specifically, the 17th-century Baroque painting, Midas and Bacchus by Nicholas Poussin.  Influenced by the Venetian Renaissance.

With Bacchus' hanging (hanging) always above the women, the only male image in a world of women.

All action occurs in the bedroom.

Chamber drama.

Filmed in long takes.  With much dialogue.  From interesting angles.  And intelligent camera movement.

Petra is a great artist.  A fashion designer.  From the upper class.

And like Midas, everything touches turns to gold.  And like Midas, she should not be touching people.

Kant is Germany's most rational philosopher.

Von Kant is all emotion.

She keeps a servant, Marlene.  From the working class.

Marlene never speaks.  She stands.  She obeys.

She looks with longing at Petra.  Loving her from afar.  Aching with desire.

She is just as statuesque and beautiful as any model with whom Petra works.

But she is invisible to Petra.  A servile puppy to a distracted master.

She expresses herself in her pounding of the typewriter keys.

Marlene is played by Irm Hermann, who played Irmgard in yesterday's The Merchant of Four Seasons.  She is a member of Fassbinder's company, and she has a range as an actress.

The film begins, quietly, with cats eating on the stairs.  All begin at the top of the stairs.  One walks down the stairs, and eats at the bottom of the stairs.  We hear their chewing, licking, smacking.  We are about to enter a feline world.  The world of a catty woman.

Marlene enters the bedroom and opens the blinds.

Petra is asleep and hung over.  Thirty-five and without make-up.  Looking her most vulnerable.

The light blinds her.  She complains.

Her mother calls, and she lies to her, smiling falsely, ingeniously, through her teeth.

She telephones Joseph Mankiewiz--the writer-director of All About Eve, another film about the drama caused by the emotions and drinking of a great female artist--to tell him she does not have the money to pay him what she owes him.

A letter arrives from a great fashion house.  They want Petra's designs.  Three years ago they ignored her.  Today, they grovel.  She is on top.

Her friend drops in.  Sidonie!  They have not seen each other in three years.

Marlene is jealous.  Sidonie and Petra talk about their husbands.  Sidonie has one.  Petra has had two.  One died.  The other she divorced.  Sidonie explains that Petra should have known from the beginning, that she entered into a bad relationship in a bad way.  Petra is right-brained, passionate, impulsive.  She follows her feelings.  And they may change throughout the day.  Sidonie suggests that Petra use her feminine wiles to get what she wants.  Petra says she hates doing that, that it is like cheating, like playing tricks.  She prefers honesty.  This may come back to haunt her.

"I think people are made to need each other," she says.  "But they haven't learned to live together."

For sure.

Throughout this act Petra puts on her wig and make-up.  She transforms herself.  The actress, Margit Carstensen, is putting on a master class of theatrical acting, remaining always alive in behavior, physically grounded, while delivering reams of dialogue.  Her artistry in applying make-up is as accomplished as her artistry in acting.  Carstensen herself is a work of art, tall, thin, statuesque, beautiful, with the ability to transform herself into many different appearances and personalities.

Sidonie has invited a girl to meet Petra.  Her name is Karin.

This is a mistake.

It is morning.  Sidonie has asked for coffee.  Karin requests cognac.  Karin is young, from another generation.  For an aspiring model, she lacks height, stature, beauty, grace, and poise.  For an aspiring protégé she also lacks ambition, wisdom, discipline, focus, common sense, tact, and manners.

It is not clear why Sidonie has introduced her to Petra.

It is not clear how Karin could be a model.

If Marlene is unworthy of Petra's attention, then what has Karin to offer?

Petra falls for Karin instantly, and hard.  With the obsession of Anna Karenina.  But for no apparent reason.

Except this one: "I'll make a top model out of you."

Oh, the hubris.  Oh, the horror.  She is all too human.

The next few acts will follow Petra's decline as she follows this foolish path.  In each act she will wear a different wig, a different dress, and a different face.  She will always look ravishing.  She will behave irrationally.

Her conversations with Karin reveal that Petra has values in her work.  Accountability.  Discipline.  A work ethic.  She is not successful for nothing.

She tries to advise her as a model.  "You drink too much.  Don't forget your figure is your fortune."  Petra herself is in fabulous shape.

So she is baffled that Karin wants to spend all day lying in bed reading graphic novels.  Petra offers Karin the world.  They could travel together, see art, go to concerts, watch movies, experience life.  Everything that Marlene wants but which Petra has withheld from her.

Karin is cruel to Petra.  She takes advantage of Petra's generosity, makes her jealous for her own amusement, toys with her heart.  Her husband Freddy calls.  She demands that Petra fly her to Frankfurt, that Petra buy her plane ticket.

Petra is devastated.

Eventually, we will see Sidonie again, and Petra's daughter, and Petra's mother.  All arrive for her birthday.  Petra has been lying on the floor, drinking gin from the bottle, hovering over the telephone, waiting for Karin to call.  The others will enter the room in succession, each disappointing Petra that she is not Karin.  She is so distraught that she crushes her drinking glass into shards with one squeeze of her hand.

Petra's daughter is going through an unrequited love of her own, and wants to share it with her mother, whom she loves, and wants her mother's advice.  She loves a boy who does not even know she loves him.  "He is so obstinate."  Just like her mother.

Interestingly, it is 1972 in Germany, and she likes him because he moves like Mick Jagger!

But Petra is too consumed with herself to notice.  She is too consumed to see that here are three women who love her, who are here for her, on her birthday.  Well, actually, four.  Marlene is here too, just as invisible as ever.

This film is as Baroque as the painting that hangs above the bed.  It is mathematically measured in its narrative structure--in five acts, with five outfits, with five wigs (four wigs and one with natural hair).  Restrained in emotions just as it is in environment--even with its melodrama, even with the Dionysian outburst that occurs in the end.  It is replete with symbolism, masterful in its camera work, precise in its compositions, elegant in its production design.

Petra will awaken the morning after the drama with her mother still there for her.  Petra will be contrite.

"I didn't love her.  I wanted to possess her.  That's all over.  I've learned my lesson."

In the end, without her wig, without her make-up, without a fabulous dress, standing in her bathrobe, looking like herself, she will see Marlene for the first time.

She will apologize.  She will offer Marlene what Marlene has wanted all this time.  How will Marlene respond?

The Platters play in the background, the operatic coda of this bedroom opera, "Oh, yes, I'm the great pretender."

Petra goes back to bed.

She ends as she began.  But wiser for what has happened.

Lesson learned.

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

045 - The Merchant of Four Seasons, 1971, Germany. Dir. Rainer Werner Fassbinder.

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

045 - The Merchant of Four Seasons, 1971, Germany. Dir. Rainer Werner Fassbinder.

Everyone wants to be loved.

The good news is that love is available.

To everyone.

Openly.

Freely.

Unconditionally.

The bad news is that not everyone finds it.

The Merchant of Four Seasons is film about a man who did not find it.

It is also entertaining.

Hans Epps is a fruit vendor.  He pushes a cart full of pears.  He sets up in a courtyard outside an apartment complex.  He calls up to the windows.

"Fresh Pears!  Get your fresh pears!  1.40 a kilo.  A real bargain!"

He has a warm, inviting voice.  He chants it like a song.  He draws people.

A woman opens a window.  Bring me two pounds.

Hans's wife Irmgard glares at him.  She does not want him to go up.

She is standing out in the open courtyard fixing her own stockings to her garter belt, apparently getting ready to start the day.

He looks at her.  She scowls.  He looks put upon.  "I have to."

He puts some pears in a paper sack.  Note that he does not weigh them.  Throughout the movie they will weigh every order on a set of scales sitting on the fruit cart.  But not this time.  Is he distracted?  Is he upset?  Is he so good at his job that he knows it by feel?

He goes up.

The woman opens the door.  They stare at each other.  She is pretty.  She invites him inside.

He will not go inside.  We can see they have a history between them.  A history of which Irmgard does not approve.  He does nothing wrong.  He leaves the pears.  He goes back down the stairs.

We do not see her pay him.  Is he distracted?  Is he upset?  Or does the movie just leave out that detail?

Hans and Irmgard are walking down the street, pushing their cart, in cold silence.

She scolds him.  He defends himself.  He did not touch her.  He left the pears and left.  We agree with him.  We saw it.  Irmgard will not stop.

A nagging wife is like a constant dripping on a rainy day. - Proverbs 27:15

Hans has been dripped upon.  For awhile.  He leaves her with the cart and walks into a bar.

She tells her next female customer, "You know how men are."

He says to the bartender, "You know how it is."

They will have another encounter.  He will go into another bar.  He will not come home for dinner.

Irmgard and their daughter Renate wait for him.  They are seated at the table.  She told him dinner would be at 7:00 pm.  She looks at the clock.  It is around 8:45.  She tells Renate they can eat now.  The two ladies finally pick up their silverware and begin eating.

(I want to know if the two of them were really sitting at the dinner table for an hour and forty-five minutes doing nothing, not talking, and not touching their food!  This is called staging.  The director stages the scene to communicate information.  But sometimes it looks staged.  It does not look like real life.  Fassbinder does a lot of that in his films, but if you go along with the artifice and suspend your disbelief then you can follow the story.)

He is at the bar with his buddies.  He tells them how he used to be a police officer and how he lost his job.  We go into a flashback and see why he lost his job.  He says it was fair.  They had to fire him.  What could they do?

We already know he fought for the Foreign Legion.  In the very first scene of the film he came home to his mother after months of being away, only to have her reject him.

How does his past service in the Foreign Legion and in the police department influence how he feels about being a fruit vendor now?

Irmgard calls all the bars until she finds him.  She shows up.  She calls him out in front of his buddies.  She begs him to come home.  He throws a chair at her.

That night he comes home and takes it out on her.  Renate not only sees it but also tries to intervene.

The next morning he awakens and Irmgard is gone.  He looks for her.  He has left her a note.  She is with his family.  He goes.  They take her side.  His mother, brother, and one sister list all of his deficiencies.  His other sister defends him.  He has one defender!

He asks her back.

She calls her lawyer to file for a divorce.

He has a heart attack.

She cheats on him while he is in the hospital.  This appears to go against her nature.  She is a conservative woman.

This is the set up of the movie.  What happens next is not necessarily what you might expect.

Hans and Irmgard pull together.  She has to find a way to help him with the fruit cart after the doctor limits his activities.

The business details are interesting--interviewing help, hiring help, buying a second cart, haggling over its price, selling different fruits, setting prices, moving product, teaching the help how to call out, working on the tone and cadence of the voice, secretly watching the help, settling accounts.

There are moments of hope.

But--

Hans and Irmgard share a romantic evening that goes badly when he misunderstands her.  He puts a song on the record player, which is important to him.  He sang it to her when they were dating.  She laughs.  He takes it personally and allows it to hurt his feelings.  She explains that she laughed because she loved him, that the night he first sang it was the night she knew she wanted to be with him.  She had laughed back then because she thought he was funny, and it was endearing.  He just thinks he is being laughed it.  He turns away from her.

Over the course of the film he will deteriorate.

His sister who believes in him explains to his daughter Renate that he could live if he wanted to.  Renate does not understand that.  How can a person's health be connected to his will power?  How can he choose whether he will live or die?  Aunt Anna explains that people have not always been good to him.  We see that it largely goes back to his mother.  And the words she spoke over him throughout his life.

One gets the impression that the filmmaker, Rainer Werner Fassbinder, is speaking out of his own pain.

We are invited to respond with compassion.

The viewer is put in the position of making a choice.  Is this story about a man who has some misfortunes and for whom we sympathize?  Or does the movie seek to manipulate us into viewing the character--as a psychological projection of the filmmaker--as a martyr?

It is certainly subjectively told.  We know nothing about the other characters beyond how they affect the emotional life of Hans.  The world is seen only through the lens of his feelings.  People are judged, and harshly so, only by how they have treated him.  Their feelings are not considered, let alone their virtues and vices, personality attributes, goals, or even personal lives outside of him.

Everything is an extension of him and how it affects him.

We know that an important part of human growth and development is to mature, or outgrow these feelings that the world revolves around me.  The movement towards love is a movement outside of our own visceral needs and towards thinking about and caring for other people.  By reaching out beyond ourselves, by not allowing our own emotions to dominate us, by focusing on the needs and perspectives of other people, we begin to grow, and we begin to love.  Then we start to see the world more objectively.

But what if Hans is not there yet.  What if he is emotionally underdeveloped due to real verbal and emotional abuse by his mother and now his wife.

What if someone were to look him in the eyes and say, "Hey, man.  You're doing a great job.  You're a good fruit vendor.  I like you.  Keep up the good work."

Everyone wants to be loved.

Love is available to everyone.

If only he can find it.

Monday, February 13, 2017

044 - The Testament of Dr. Mabuse, 1933, Germany. Dir. Fritz Lang.

Monday, February 13, 2017

044 - The Testament of Dr. Mabuse, 1933, Germany. Dir. Fritz Lang.

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!

An Empire of Crime is on the loose.

They are counterfeiting money.  They have succeeded in a great jewelry heist.  They have robbed a bank.  They will attack a chemical plant.  They will poison water.  They will ruin farms.

The police are stumped.  Inspector Karl Lohmann, our fearless leader from yesterday's M (043, February 12) is back on the job.

His former man, Detective Hofmeister, begins the movie hiding out in one of the plants.  Something loud is pounding.  Pounding.  Pounding.

The criminals find Hofmeister and try to blow him up with explosives.  He escapes.  He phones the Inspector.  Just as he is about to say the name of the mastermind, someone enters the room from where he is calling and drives him mad.  The phone goes dead.  Is Hofmeister dead?

Inspector Lohmann studies the room.  Hofmeister has vanished.  Someone has scratched something on the window glass.  What is it?

The criminals run freely.
 
Men receive their orders in a locked room, from a man behind a curtain.  They are not allowed to see him.  One man tried and was found dead.

Like a priest attempting to enter the Holy of Holies in an unworthy manner.

Who is this man behind the curtain?

Dr. Mabuse has been in an asylum for ten years.  He was a hypnotist and a criminal.  He ravaged the city ten years ago, before he went mad, when he was free.

His exploits were shown in the prequel to this movie, the silent Dr. Mabuse, the Gambler (1922).

But he is locked up now.  Surely, he can do no harm now.  What could he do now?

He has begun writing.  Writing incessantly.  Writing insanely.  Writing madly.  Plans for an Empire of Crime.  Plans to paralyze the world with crime.

Professor Dr. Baum runs the asylum.  He studies Dr. Mabuse.  He presents his findings.  Mabuse's writings began as nothing.  Then they became ramblings.  Then they became words.  Then they became sentences.  Then they became thoughtful, organized plans.  Now they are being carried out.

Baum's colleague, Dr. Kramm, sees the correlation between Dr. Mabuse's writings and the current crime spree.  It is as though he is giving orders to the syndicate.

How?

He is locked in a room in the asylum.  He is writing.  He is harmless.  His papers lie disordered on the floor.  Yet someone is giving orders from behind that curtain, in that other locked room, in another part of town, and the orders are carried out, precisely, to the letter of Dr. Mabuse's writing.

Dr. Kramm is onto something.

Dr. Kramm is shot dead.

Inspector Lohmann's forensics team deciphers the etchings on the window pane glass.  It spells out Mabuse.  Backwards and upside-down.  Someone in the room during Hofmeister's phone call scratched it in the glass just before Hofmeister disappeared.

They have found Hofmeister on the streets.  Now he is mad.  Now he is in the asylum.  He sings.  "Gloria.  Lovely are the maidens of Batavia."

What is plaguing our city?

Dr. Mabuse dies.  The crime spree continues.  And continues to follow his writings.  Even without him around.

When they go to rouse Inspector Lohmann from bed, he lies asleep, awash in mini-blind shadows.  Someone opens the blinds.  He instructs them to close them.  Someone closes them.  This moment in our 1933 German crime film will be repeated for many years in American film noir.  Mini blinds.  Shadows.  Mini-blind shadows.  Lines of light and darkness across a human face.  In hundreds of films.

One of the criminals is named Kent.  Not Clark Kent.  Tom Kent.

Tom Kent has a girl name Lilli.  Lilli loves Tom.  He tells her he is no good.  She does not care.  She loves him.  He tells her about his past.  She does not care.  She loves him.  He tells her about his present.  She does not care she loves him.

Lilli's love gets through to Tom.  It transforms him.  He stays with her.

He misses his meeting.

Tom was ordered to strike the Overseas Bank.  He failed to carry out his orders.

The gangsters are not happy.

They kidnap Tom and Lilli and put them in the locked room.  With the man behind the curtain.

They are locked in.  A bomb will go off in three hours.  They will be blown up.  How will they escape?

There will be a daring escape.  A high-stakes shoot-out.  Explosions at a chemical plant.  A high-speed chase.  Drama.  Adventure.  Excitement.

Who is that man behind the curtain?

And how are Dr. Mabuse's writings still being carried out after his death?

Is Mabuse really alive?

Is he a ghost?

Observe that our asylum leader is named Baum.

And that L. Frank Baum wrote The Wizard of Oz.  It was published in 1900, with thirteen sequels running to 1919.  Our movie came out in 1933.

Someone is up to something.

And he will tell us.

Allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Dr. Mabuse.