Friday, April 7, 2017
097 - The Red Balloon, 1956, France. Dir. Albert Lamorisse.
A little boy is walking to school.
The dawn haze glows on the Paris streets.
A cat slinks past on the damp sidewalk. Steam rises in the distance. The boy stops to pet the cat.
The boy descends the stone steps. He sees something. Stops at the next landing. Looks up. Studies. He looks to check. Puts down his briefcase. Starts to climb.
He shinnies up the post. Bracing his feet on the stone wall. Standing on the upper ledge.
A red balloon.
He unties it. Puts the string in his mouth. Holds the balloon low. Slides down the pole.
The boy walks past a market. Potatoes for sale. An older woman walks past. Stops to turn back. Looks.
He stands on the sidewalk awaiting the trolley bus. A woman pulls him back from the curb. The trolley bus comes. Stops. People embark. The conductor stops him. Shakes his head. Shakes his finger.
The boy does not board the bus. He runs. Tries to make it to school on time.
The boy arrives at school. The Ecole Communale de Garcons.
He knocks. He rings the doorbell. Finally, the door opens.
In the courtyard he asks the street sweeper, "Can you hold my balloon while I am in school? Don't let it go!"
The man stands. A broom in his hand. A balloon in the other. He looks as the boy scampers off.
The teacher looks out the window. Sees the boy arriving late. Takes note.
Leaves fall from the trees as the boy hurries inside.
The children exit. One mother waits with an umbrella for her son. The other children go the other way.
The boy exits. He holds his balloon.
He walks the wet street. He finds an older gentleman. With beret and cane. Speaks to him. Places the balloon under the old man's umbrella. They walk together. Walk past Chez Hubert. A restaurant. Arrive at a door. The man enters. The boy waits.
The boy finds a woman passing by. With a different style umbrella. He runs to her. Walks with her. He finds a pair of nuns. He finds a man in a khaki trenchcoat walking across a bridge above the Thames. Policemen on horses. With the clop, clop, clop. Of the hooves.
He runs across a bridge alone. The steam smoke of a steam train billowing above the bridge as the train passes beneath it.
He runs. Freely. Enters a building. Enters a door.
A woman looks out a window. His mother? The maid?
From the fourth floor she opens the balcony door and releases the balloon.
The balloon does not float up to the sky.
It hovers.
Stays outside the window.
As if knowingly waiting for the boy.
The boy opens the window door. Receives the balloon again.
A new morning.
The boy speaks to the balloon.
"Balloon. You must obey me. You must be good!"
This time he will leave the balloon waiting for him, floating outside his window. And return to it after school.
The boy exits the building. Ready to walk to school. The balloon follows him. The balloon is now his friend.
A dog barks the balloon up the steps.
The boy hides behind a corner. Seizes the balloon again when it turns the corner.
When they get to the trolley bus, the boy lets go of the balloon. It rises into the air so that the boy can board the bus.
It follows the bus.
Follows the boy to school.
The children laugh. A living balloon! They try to catch it. It will not let them catch it.
It waits outside as the boy and the children enter the courtyard. And enter the school. It floats over the wall into the courtyard. Tries to enter the building. It cannot. It waits outside.
A man, a principal type, an authority figure, tries to catch it. It will not let him. It enters through an upper window. The man brings the boy outside. Takes him to his office. Locks him in!
The boy is locked alone inside an office during the school day.
The balloon chases the man as he walks. Pesters him. Annoys him. Bothers him.
The boy watches out the window as the children run outside. They are fee. He is not.
Two man talk. Discuss what to do. The balloon hovers above them. It follows the principal as he returns to the office. Unlocks the door. Lets the boy leave.
"Get lost, you little pest." The man says to the boy.
The boy walks home. The balloon goes with him. Today it is not raining. They walk through the flea market.
The boy looks at a painting of a girl. She is about his age. About his height. An imaginary friend.
The balloon goes shopping. Looking at items while the boy looks.
They leave. They pass a real girl on the sidewalk. Holding a blue balloon.
The red balloon escapes the boy's grasp to chase the blue balloon. The boy retrieves it.
The blue balloon escapes the girl's grasp to chase the red balloon. The girl retrieves it.
Three bully boys stand waiting for the boy to pass. They follow him. Chase him up a flight of steps.
An entire regiment of boys await at the top of the steps. They rain down on him.
The balloon escapes. Floats above them all. The boy escapes. The bully boys watch as he goes into his apartment building. And retrieves his balloon through the open window.
His mother takes him. Takes him to a building. The balloon follows. Enters. We watch from outside.
A guard exits. Dressed like an army sentry. Chases the boy away. Gestures to his befuddled mother.
The boy stops at a bakery. Eyes the pastries. Salivates. Puts his hand in his pocket. Pulls out money.
Four bully boys arrive. Eye the pastries. See the balloon through the corner windows.
The balloon makes a tactical mistake. It does not see the boys around the corner.
They seize it!
Grab it by the string. Throttle it. Run away.
The boy emerges with his éclair. Treating. Happy. But where is his balloon.
The larger group of bully boys scale a wall. They have the balloon by a second string. A long one. A kite string.
The boy walks into an open field. He looks to the sky. Looks for his balloon.
The bully boys have it high in the air. High by the kite string. They throw rocks at it. Shoot rocks from slingshots.
The balloon comes over the wall. The boy takes it by its own string. The short string. The bully boys pull the kite string. A tug of war.
The balloon slips off its kite string. Frees itself. Goes with the boy.
The boy runs. The bully boys chase him. Chase him and his balloon.
Down streets and through alleys.
With the taste of blood on their lips.
Or helium.
The clop, clop, clop of the shoes on the cobbled stones bespeaks the boy's urgency.
The alleys grow narrower. The situation grows grim. The bully boys' close in.
The boy is trapped. Surrounded by bully boys.
They pile on the boy. Stop him from running. Hold him down.
The red balloon can sense defeat. It breaks out in some kind of balloon rash. Loses its ability to fly. Hovers slowly more closely to the ground.
It touches down.
A boy stomps on it. Bursts it. Kills it.
Somewhere in the city two twins are walking, each with his own balloon. The balloons leave their hands and fly away. Another boy loses his. A girl. Another. And another.
From all across the city the balloons escape. Balloons of all colors. Heed the call. Come to the aid of their fellow balloon. And its boy.
Images of the city from overhead. Brightly colored balloons floating above the dull-toned city.
Hundreds of balloon descend upon the boy. Now standing alone in the field.
They comfort him. Surround him. Love on him. He gathers their strings. Holds on.
They lift him.
Lift him above the city.
The boy flies above the city holding on to his hundred balloons.
Flies ever higher.
Up into the sky.
Friday, April 7, 2017
Thursday, April 6, 2017
096 - Fanfan la Tulipe (Fan-Fan the Tulip), 1952, France. Dir. Christian-Jaque.
Thursday, April 6, 2017
096 - Fanfan la Tulipe (Fan-Fan the Tulip), 1952, France. Dir. Christian-Jaque.
The farmer is looking for his daughter.
Where is she?
He enlists the help of the townsmen.
Let's go find her.
They bring pitchforks.
There she is! Rolling in the hay. With Fanfan!
Who is Fanfan? That dastardly devil. What are you doing in the hay with my daughter?
The men accost him.
The farmer accuses him.
He insults them.
You will marry my daughter.
No, I won't.
He escapes their grasp. He jumps in the river. He is caught again. He is marched down the road to town.
Marched down the road to marry the farmer's daughter.
A Gypsy girl stands alone on the hill. Her name is Adeline.
She sees the men. She sees Fanfan. She comes down the hill. She comes down and joins them.
She reads his palm.
You will have a life filled with great adventure. The king's daughter will fall in love with you. You will marry the king's daughter.
Fanfan believes the Gypsy's fortune telling. It fits his belief in himself. He is destined for greatness.
Some bandits are robbing a stagecoach.
A stagecoach containing Madame Pompadour. And Henriette. The Princess. The King's daughter.
Fanfan fights them. Swordfight! Fanfan wins.
Maybe the Princess will remember him.
The crowd arrives in town. This man is to marry my daughter. No, first he must serve in the Regiment.
We are in the Seven Years' War.
The Seven Years' War covers the nine-year period from 1754 to 1763.
It covered the areas of Europe, West Africa, North America, South America, India, and the Philippines.
Does that not sound like a world war?
It sounds as though World War I was not the first world war.
In Europe it featured England against France.
Christian-Jaque, our film's director, is making fun of war.
He begins the film with a sarcastic description of it, stating that its purpose is to generate quotations learned in history classes.
So when the Regiment takes him, it will be shown in parody.
The men are put through their paces. Fanfan refuses to get in line. He adjusts his clothing. He is hot. He removes his jacket.
His commanding officer addresses him. He insults his commanding officer. He is put in the stockade.
Adeline sits outside his window and talks to him.
She tells him he is foolish. He laughs. A man approaches. Speaks illy of Fanfan. She defends him. Says do not pick a fight with him. He will remember. He will seek revenge.
Ods bodkins!
The man looks in the stockade window. Fanfan is not there! Where did he go?
Fanfan is on the rooftop. He has escaped.
Throw me a sword!
Someone throws him a sword.
His nemesis, named Fier-a-bras, climbs a ladder.
Swordfight on the roof!
They thrust through the chimney.
They dodge and parry. They roll down the roofline. They fall through the roof. Land in the hay. Knock over a lantern. Start a fire. Explosions.
Fanfan ends up in a tree. He is one of the family now. He has proved himself.
Time for the Regiment to move on.
They are now in the town of the king. The princess, Henriette, is inside the great house.
Fanfan sits outside, with his friend Tranche-Montagne, under a tree, pining for her, plotting how to get to her.
The sentries are coming!
Quick! Hide!
Fanfan and his friend duck inside the house. They discuss what to do when they meet the Princess. They overhear the military men plotting.
The military men overhear them. They come looking.
Fanfan and friend hide up the chimney. The men enter the room. Fanfan's friend falls down the chimney. Caught.
Fanfan makes it to the roof. The roof of the great chateau.
He makes it around to the window of the Princess.
He enters her parlor.
She plays the spinet. He bows behind her. She does not hear him. She is caught up in her music.
He sits, chimney-dirty, in her royal chair.
She plays on.
Her servant must enter the room to report to her that a man is in the room. She stops playing. She sees Fanfan. She gasps.
He removes his hat and bows.
Madame, do you recognize me? The highway. The bandits. The Tulip. Fanfan.
Her eyes suggest recognition.
That is all he needs. He leaves the room shouting triumphantly. The King's daughter recognizes me. It is in the stars. She will fall in love with me.
A bugle blows.
Back in the camp.
On the orders of His Majesty King Louis XV the court-martial of the armies on campaign has sentenced Fanfan la Tulipe and Tranche-Montagne to death.
Adeline is worried.
Adeline loves him.
They are to be hanged by the neck until dead. Tomorrow before the regiment.
But he's not like other men. He can't stand death.
Adeline seeks a meeting with the King.
Henriette grants it because Fanfan once risked his life to save hers.
Adeline appeals to the King. Her beauty moves the King. Moves him to grant her one last farewell. One last farewell with Fanfan before he hangs him.
She kneels at the jail. Bares her heart to Fanfan.
I love you.
He tells her he loves the Princess. That she herself started it.
She regrets it. She made it up. He says he does not love her. She leaves.
He feels it is better that way. When he is hanged she will miss him less.
Fanfan and Tranche-Montagne are led to the hanging. They have nooses slipped around their necks.
They are dropped.
They are hanged.
What will happen next?
Adventure awaits.
Much more adventure.
Watch and see.
From The Thief of Bagdad (1924) to The Corsican Brothers (1941),
from The Black Pirate (1926) to The Crimson Pirate (1952) to Blackbeard the Pirate (1952),
from Captain Blood (1935) to The Sea Hawk (1940),
from The Prisoner of Zenda (1935) to The Spanish Main (1945),
from Robin Hood (1922) to The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) to Robin and Marian (1976) to Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991),
from Highlander (1986) to Rob Roy (1995),
from The Adventures of Don Juan (1948) to The Master of Ballantrae (1953),
from The Mark of Zorro (1940) to The Mask of Zorro (1998),
from Ivanhoe (1952) to Scaramouche (1952),
from The Three Musketeers (1973) to The Four Musketeers (1974) to The Three Musketeers (1993) to The Musketeer (2001),
from The Count of Monte Cristo (1934) to The Scarlet Pimpernel (1934) to The Man in the Iron Mask (1939) to The Count of Monte Cristo (2002) to The Scarlet Pimpernel (1982) to The Man in the Iron Mask (1998),
from Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) to The Princess Bride (1987) to Robin Hood Men in Tights (1993),
from Treasure Island (1934) to Captain Kidd (1945) to Treasure Island (1950) to Pirates of the Caribbean (2003, 2006, 2007, 2011, 2017) . . .
From Errol Flynn to Tyrone Power to Douglas Fairbanks . . .
Gerard Philippe and Fanfan la Tulipe take their place in the history of swashbucklers and swashbuckling movies.
En garde!
096 - Fanfan la Tulipe (Fan-Fan the Tulip), 1952, France. Dir. Christian-Jaque.
The farmer is looking for his daughter.
Where is she?
He enlists the help of the townsmen.
Let's go find her.
They bring pitchforks.
There she is! Rolling in the hay. With Fanfan!
Who is Fanfan? That dastardly devil. What are you doing in the hay with my daughter?
The men accost him.
The farmer accuses him.
He insults them.
You will marry my daughter.
No, I won't.
He escapes their grasp. He jumps in the river. He is caught again. He is marched down the road to town.
Marched down the road to marry the farmer's daughter.
A Gypsy girl stands alone on the hill. Her name is Adeline.
She sees the men. She sees Fanfan. She comes down the hill. She comes down and joins them.
She reads his palm.
You will have a life filled with great adventure. The king's daughter will fall in love with you. You will marry the king's daughter.
Fanfan believes the Gypsy's fortune telling. It fits his belief in himself. He is destined for greatness.
Some bandits are robbing a stagecoach.
A stagecoach containing Madame Pompadour. And Henriette. The Princess. The King's daughter.
Fanfan fights them. Swordfight! Fanfan wins.
Maybe the Princess will remember him.
The crowd arrives in town. This man is to marry my daughter. No, first he must serve in the Regiment.
We are in the Seven Years' War.
The Seven Years' War covers the nine-year period from 1754 to 1763.
It covered the areas of Europe, West Africa, North America, South America, India, and the Philippines.
Does that not sound like a world war?
It sounds as though World War I was not the first world war.
In Europe it featured England against France.
Christian-Jaque, our film's director, is making fun of war.
He begins the film with a sarcastic description of it, stating that its purpose is to generate quotations learned in history classes.
So when the Regiment takes him, it will be shown in parody.
The men are put through their paces. Fanfan refuses to get in line. He adjusts his clothing. He is hot. He removes his jacket.
His commanding officer addresses him. He insults his commanding officer. He is put in the stockade.
Adeline sits outside his window and talks to him.
She tells him he is foolish. He laughs. A man approaches. Speaks illy of Fanfan. She defends him. Says do not pick a fight with him. He will remember. He will seek revenge.
Ods bodkins!
The man looks in the stockade window. Fanfan is not there! Where did he go?
Fanfan is on the rooftop. He has escaped.
Throw me a sword!
Someone throws him a sword.
His nemesis, named Fier-a-bras, climbs a ladder.
Swordfight on the roof!
They thrust through the chimney.
They dodge and parry. They roll down the roofline. They fall through the roof. Land in the hay. Knock over a lantern. Start a fire. Explosions.
Fanfan ends up in a tree. He is one of the family now. He has proved himself.
Time for the Regiment to move on.
They are now in the town of the king. The princess, Henriette, is inside the great house.
Fanfan sits outside, with his friend Tranche-Montagne, under a tree, pining for her, plotting how to get to her.
The sentries are coming!
Quick! Hide!
Fanfan and his friend duck inside the house. They discuss what to do when they meet the Princess. They overhear the military men plotting.
The military men overhear them. They come looking.
Fanfan and friend hide up the chimney. The men enter the room. Fanfan's friend falls down the chimney. Caught.
Fanfan makes it to the roof. The roof of the great chateau.
He makes it around to the window of the Princess.
He enters her parlor.
She plays the spinet. He bows behind her. She does not hear him. She is caught up in her music.
He sits, chimney-dirty, in her royal chair.
She plays on.
Her servant must enter the room to report to her that a man is in the room. She stops playing. She sees Fanfan. She gasps.
He removes his hat and bows.
Madame, do you recognize me? The highway. The bandits. The Tulip. Fanfan.
Her eyes suggest recognition.
That is all he needs. He leaves the room shouting triumphantly. The King's daughter recognizes me. It is in the stars. She will fall in love with me.
A bugle blows.
Back in the camp.
On the orders of His Majesty King Louis XV the court-martial of the armies on campaign has sentenced Fanfan la Tulipe and Tranche-Montagne to death.
Adeline is worried.
Adeline loves him.
They are to be hanged by the neck until dead. Tomorrow before the regiment.
But he's not like other men. He can't stand death.
Adeline seeks a meeting with the King.
Henriette grants it because Fanfan once risked his life to save hers.
Adeline appeals to the King. Her beauty moves the King. Moves him to grant her one last farewell. One last farewell with Fanfan before he hangs him.
She kneels at the jail. Bares her heart to Fanfan.
I love you.
He tells her he loves the Princess. That she herself started it.
She regrets it. She made it up. He says he does not love her. She leaves.
He feels it is better that way. When he is hanged she will miss him less.
Fanfan and Tranche-Montagne are led to the hanging. They have nooses slipped around their necks.
They are dropped.
They are hanged.
What will happen next?
Adventure awaits.
Much more adventure.
Watch and see.
From The Thief of Bagdad (1924) to The Corsican Brothers (1941),
from The Black Pirate (1926) to The Crimson Pirate (1952) to Blackbeard the Pirate (1952),
from Captain Blood (1935) to The Sea Hawk (1940),
from The Prisoner of Zenda (1935) to The Spanish Main (1945),
from Robin Hood (1922) to The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) to Robin and Marian (1976) to Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (1991),
from Highlander (1986) to Rob Roy (1995),
from The Adventures of Don Juan (1948) to The Master of Ballantrae (1953),
from The Mark of Zorro (1940) to The Mask of Zorro (1998),
from Ivanhoe (1952) to Scaramouche (1952),
from The Three Musketeers (1973) to The Four Musketeers (1974) to The Three Musketeers (1993) to The Musketeer (2001),
from The Count of Monte Cristo (1934) to The Scarlet Pimpernel (1934) to The Man in the Iron Mask (1939) to The Count of Monte Cristo (2002) to The Scarlet Pimpernel (1982) to The Man in the Iron Mask (1998),
from Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) to The Princess Bride (1987) to Robin Hood Men in Tights (1993),
from Treasure Island (1934) to Captain Kidd (1945) to Treasure Island (1950) to Pirates of the Caribbean (2003, 2006, 2007, 2011, 2017) . . .
From Errol Flynn to Tyrone Power to Douglas Fairbanks . . .
Gerard Philippe and Fanfan la Tulipe take their place in the history of swashbucklers and swashbuckling movies.
En garde!
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
095 - Orpheus, 1950, France. Dir. Jean Cocteau.
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
095 - Orpheus, 1950, France. Dir. Jean Cocteau.
The story of Orpheus and Eurydice is a story from Greek mythology.
I learned it in the third grade.
In public school.
In a school now called a failing school.
My school was not failing.
The teachers taught us.
We learned.
The third grade is a perfect time to learn the stories of Greek mythology.
They are great stories, and children can understand them.
The secret is to have a beginning, a middle, and an end.
Orpheus and Eurydice love each other.
Eurydice dies and goes to the Underworld.
Orpheus goes to the Underworld and appeals to get her back.
He is granted a test and may have her back.
If he will not turn around and look at her as they return.
They begin their return.
Her footsteps grow steadily more quiet.
It grows harder for him to tell if she is still walking behind him.
Finally, he cannot hear her at all.
He believes she is no longer behind him.
He turns and looks.
She is behind him.
He sees her.
He loses her.
Just moments before crossing the line into the world of the living.
Where they could have lived happily ever after.
If only he had taken a few more steps.
The story is riveting.
We were on the edge of our seats.
Now Jean Cocteau is telling the story.
It is updated.
Contemporary.
Orpheus is a poet. A famous poet. A great poet.
He hangs out with the kids at the Café of Poets.
They play music.
They drink coffee.
They write.
Or they come to be seen.
One day Cegeste, another poet, arrives with a woman. He starts a fight.
The police arrive. In a police car. Two more arrive. On motorcycles. They knock him down.
He is in distress. He may be dying.
The woman orders the police to put Cegeste in the car. She orders Orpheus to get in the car.
Who is she to give orders?
Orpheus gets in.
As they drive strange things begin to happen.
Orpheus cannot figure out what is going on.
Cegeste is dead.
They are driving to a mysterious location.
They arrive at a great house.
The woman is a Princess. The Princess makes Cegeste come back again. But not fully alive.
The motorcyclists arrive. They and Cegeste walk into a mirror.
How did they walk through the mirror? Why are they going together?
Orpheus is left with the driver. Heurtebise.
Say that name ten times fast.
Heurtebise takes Orpheus home.
At home, his wife Eurydice has been waiting for him. Waiting with her girlfriends. Worried about him. Worried about Cegeste.
He refuses to tell them what has happened.
She tells him she is pregnant.
Heurtebise falls in love with Eurydice.
Orpheus sits in the car and listens to strange poetry coming over the radio.
Something has come over him.
Eurydice dies.
Heurtebise gives Orpheus special gloves and takes Orpheus through the mirror into the Underworld.
While there he discovers that the Princess is his personal Death and that she is fallen in love with him.
She seems to have made him fall in love with her. She has cast some kind of a spell on him.
But she is in trouble for it.
The judges declare that Eurydice was not properly brought here, and that she must return.
But Orpheus is not allowed to look at her.
Ever.
Now there is a twist. In the Greek story of Orpheus and Eurydice, Orpheus is not allowed to look at Eurydice until they arrive back to the world of the living.
In this telling of Orpheus, he is not allowed to look at her for the rest of their lives.
We might call that a difficult assignment.
Orpheus sits in the car listening to the strange poetry read over the radio.
Eurydice sits in the seat behind him so that he will not see her.
He sees her in the rearview mirror.
Uh-oh.
She disappears.
The people at the Café of Poets think Orpheus is responsible for the death of Cegeste.
They come and kill him.
He returns to the Underworld and tells the Princess, his Death, that he loves her.
But the judges send Orpheus and Eurydice back to life with no memory of anything that has happened.
They are happy and pregnant.
The Princess and her driver are punished.
And they all--not counting the Princess and her driver--live happily ever after.
On January 3 we watched the great classic La Belle et la Bete (Beauty and the Beast) (1946).
During that film we discovered that Jean Marais, the actor who played Belle's suitor Avenant, also played The Prince and also played The Beast!
Marais was a dashingly handsome man, and he captured the screen when he performed.
He performed in Elena and Her Men (1956), that wonderful Jean Renoir film we saw recently.
He did not perform in Cocteau's early film The Blood of a Poet (1932), which would come to form the first of a trilogy with our film Orpheus in the middle.
He did appear in the final film of the trilogy, Testament of Orpheus (1960), but not as Orpheus. That film would star Jean Cocteau himself as Orpheus, the Poet, looking back over his own life and career, and bringing back many of his friends and colleagues.
He appears here as Orpheus.
095 - Orpheus, 1950, France. Dir. Jean Cocteau.
The story of Orpheus and Eurydice is a story from Greek mythology.
I learned it in the third grade.
In public school.
In a school now called a failing school.
My school was not failing.
The teachers taught us.
We learned.
The third grade is a perfect time to learn the stories of Greek mythology.
They are great stories, and children can understand them.
The secret is to have a beginning, a middle, and an end.
Orpheus and Eurydice love each other.
Eurydice dies and goes to the Underworld.
Orpheus goes to the Underworld and appeals to get her back.
He is granted a test and may have her back.
If he will not turn around and look at her as they return.
They begin their return.
Her footsteps grow steadily more quiet.
It grows harder for him to tell if she is still walking behind him.
Finally, he cannot hear her at all.
He believes she is no longer behind him.
He turns and looks.
She is behind him.
He sees her.
He loses her.
Just moments before crossing the line into the world of the living.
Where they could have lived happily ever after.
If only he had taken a few more steps.
The story is riveting.
We were on the edge of our seats.
Now Jean Cocteau is telling the story.
It is updated.
Contemporary.
Orpheus is a poet. A famous poet. A great poet.
He hangs out with the kids at the Café of Poets.
They play music.
They drink coffee.
They write.
Or they come to be seen.
One day Cegeste, another poet, arrives with a woman. He starts a fight.
The police arrive. In a police car. Two more arrive. On motorcycles. They knock him down.
He is in distress. He may be dying.
The woman orders the police to put Cegeste in the car. She orders Orpheus to get in the car.
Who is she to give orders?
Orpheus gets in.
As they drive strange things begin to happen.
Orpheus cannot figure out what is going on.
Cegeste is dead.
They are driving to a mysterious location.
They arrive at a great house.
The woman is a Princess. The Princess makes Cegeste come back again. But not fully alive.
The motorcyclists arrive. They and Cegeste walk into a mirror.
How did they walk through the mirror? Why are they going together?
Orpheus is left with the driver. Heurtebise.
Say that name ten times fast.
Heurtebise takes Orpheus home.
At home, his wife Eurydice has been waiting for him. Waiting with her girlfriends. Worried about him. Worried about Cegeste.
He refuses to tell them what has happened.
She tells him she is pregnant.
Heurtebise falls in love with Eurydice.
Orpheus sits in the car and listens to strange poetry coming over the radio.
Something has come over him.
Eurydice dies.
Heurtebise gives Orpheus special gloves and takes Orpheus through the mirror into the Underworld.
While there he discovers that the Princess is his personal Death and that she is fallen in love with him.
She seems to have made him fall in love with her. She has cast some kind of a spell on him.
But she is in trouble for it.
The judges declare that Eurydice was not properly brought here, and that she must return.
But Orpheus is not allowed to look at her.
Ever.
Now there is a twist. In the Greek story of Orpheus and Eurydice, Orpheus is not allowed to look at Eurydice until they arrive back to the world of the living.
In this telling of Orpheus, he is not allowed to look at her for the rest of their lives.
We might call that a difficult assignment.
Orpheus sits in the car listening to the strange poetry read over the radio.
Eurydice sits in the seat behind him so that he will not see her.
He sees her in the rearview mirror.
Uh-oh.
She disappears.
The people at the Café of Poets think Orpheus is responsible for the death of Cegeste.
They come and kill him.
He returns to the Underworld and tells the Princess, his Death, that he loves her.
But the judges send Orpheus and Eurydice back to life with no memory of anything that has happened.
They are happy and pregnant.
The Princess and her driver are punished.
And they all--not counting the Princess and her driver--live happily ever after.
On January 3 we watched the great classic La Belle et la Bete (Beauty and the Beast) (1946).
During that film we discovered that Jean Marais, the actor who played Belle's suitor Avenant, also played The Prince and also played The Beast!
Marais was a dashingly handsome man, and he captured the screen when he performed.
He performed in Elena and Her Men (1956), that wonderful Jean Renoir film we saw recently.
He did not perform in Cocteau's early film The Blood of a Poet (1932), which would come to form the first of a trilogy with our film Orpheus in the middle.
He did appear in the final film of the trilogy, Testament of Orpheus (1960), but not as Orpheus. That film would star Jean Cocteau himself as Orpheus, the Poet, looking back over his own life and career, and bringing back many of his friends and colleagues.
He appears here as Orpheus.
Tuesday, April 4, 2017
094 - Lola Montes, 1955, France. Dir. Max Ophuls.
Tuesday, April 4, 2017
094 - Lola Montes, 1955, France. Dir. Max Ophuls.
In the entire world, scandal means money. And in America it has no limits.
So says the Circus Master. Played by Peter Ustinov.
They are in America. He is here to hire Lola. Or book her. For the circus.
Lola asks if he wants her to dance. No. You can't dance. I want to book you for scandal.
She turns him down. He says the offer stands. Whenever she needs him, call him. He will be there.
She will need him. She will call him. He will be there.
The film is framed--beginning, ending, parts in the middle--by the circus performance itself.
The circus is dazzling. Filled with spectacle. With people of all shapes and sizes running through the tent.
In color.
With Lola herself brought out at the beginning to answer questions about her scandalous life.
The Circus Master will claim she holds the world record for affairs. This is of course impossible to prove. And he will call for all of her lovers, played by circus performers, to rush out into the ring.
The circus attendees seem to go for this entertainment. The circus sells souvenirs of items described, such as real Cuban cigars, for purchase on your way out.
The flashbacks include stories of her affair with composer Franz Liszt, her trip on a ship with her mother and subsequent marriage to her mother's boyfriend Mr. James, her affair with conductor Claudio Pirotto, and her marriage to the king of Bavaria, Ludwig I.
King Ludwig I is played by our Master of Ceremonies, the Raconteur, from our film of three days ago, La Ronde, Anton Walbrook!
There is a boy who plays a student in the film who will go on to have a prolific film career a decade later. His name is Oskar Werner. He will play in Jules and Jim (1962), The Spy Who Came In from the Cold (1965), Ship of Fools (1965), Fahrenheit 451 (1966), The Shoes of the Fisherman (1968), and Voyage of the Damned (1976).
The film, like all Ophuls' films we have seen, is filled with beauty. And great production design. And dazzling camera movement.
It is no surprise that it created a scandal itself when it was released, and it underwent various changes in editing and censorship.
It is not nearly as salacious as it sounds. Martine Carol plays the role with humanity, and the film focuses on her efforts eventually to find stability in life.
One imagines that she may have wished she could have stayed with King Ludwig I.
If he had not been forcibly removed.
And that she may have hoped for lasting love with him.
But in the end she is a circus act.
And men pay a dollar to see her up close and personal.
And to touch her.
And kiss her hand.
094 - Lola Montes, 1955, France. Dir. Max Ophuls.
In the entire world, scandal means money. And in America it has no limits.
So says the Circus Master. Played by Peter Ustinov.
They are in America. He is here to hire Lola. Or book her. For the circus.
Lola asks if he wants her to dance. No. You can't dance. I want to book you for scandal.
She turns him down. He says the offer stands. Whenever she needs him, call him. He will be there.
She will need him. She will call him. He will be there.
The film is framed--beginning, ending, parts in the middle--by the circus performance itself.
The circus is dazzling. Filled with spectacle. With people of all shapes and sizes running through the tent.
In color.
With Lola herself brought out at the beginning to answer questions about her scandalous life.
The Circus Master will claim she holds the world record for affairs. This is of course impossible to prove. And he will call for all of her lovers, played by circus performers, to rush out into the ring.
The circus attendees seem to go for this entertainment. The circus sells souvenirs of items described, such as real Cuban cigars, for purchase on your way out.
The flashbacks include stories of her affair with composer Franz Liszt, her trip on a ship with her mother and subsequent marriage to her mother's boyfriend Mr. James, her affair with conductor Claudio Pirotto, and her marriage to the king of Bavaria, Ludwig I.
King Ludwig I is played by our Master of Ceremonies, the Raconteur, from our film of three days ago, La Ronde, Anton Walbrook!
There is a boy who plays a student in the film who will go on to have a prolific film career a decade later. His name is Oskar Werner. He will play in Jules and Jim (1962), The Spy Who Came In from the Cold (1965), Ship of Fools (1965), Fahrenheit 451 (1966), The Shoes of the Fisherman (1968), and Voyage of the Damned (1976).
The film, like all Ophuls' films we have seen, is filled with beauty. And great production design. And dazzling camera movement.
It is no surprise that it created a scandal itself when it was released, and it underwent various changes in editing and censorship.
It is not nearly as salacious as it sounds. Martine Carol plays the role with humanity, and the film focuses on her efforts eventually to find stability in life.
One imagines that she may have wished she could have stayed with King Ludwig I.
If he had not been forcibly removed.
And that she may have hoped for lasting love with him.
But in the end she is a circus act.
And men pay a dollar to see her up close and personal.
And to touch her.
And kiss her hand.
Monday, April 3, 2017
093 - The Earrings of Madame de . . ., 1953, France. Dir. Max Ophuls.
Monday, April 3, 2017
093 - The Earrings of Madame de . . ., 1953, France. Dir. Max Ophuls.
Madame de . . . is in debt.
Madame de . . . what?
Madame de . . . we do not know.
Every time someone speaks her name, her last name is drowned out by some other noise.
That Max Ophuls sure does have a sense of humor.
Or perhaps we should say Louise Leveque de Vilmorin has a sense of humor.
She is the one who wrote the novel, Madame de. . . .
Notice that Madame de Vilmorin has the pleasure of sharing her last name. She simply does not wish to share the last name of her creation.
Pretty sneaky of you, Madame de Vilmorin.
But enough about that Madame de. . . . Let us discuss our Madame de. . . .
Our Madame de . . . is in debt. So she decides to sell something. Her jewelry? Her furs? She looks around the room. Into her many closets and drawers.
She settles upon her earrings. They will fetch a nice price. They were a wedding gift from her husband, but no matter. She will come up with a ruse. She is a woman, after all.
Madame de . . . goes to the jeweler. She is known there. She seems at home there. Her home away from home there.
He escorts her up the spiral staircase. To a place of privacy. She asks for privacy. He assures her that it is what keeps him in business.
She offers to sell the earrings. He says No. She faints. He says Yes.
A handy tool, that fainting is. She uses it often to her advantage.
As he escorts her out, he shows her a figure. She accepts it. He watches her figure as she enters into her carriage.
Later that evening . . .
It is time for a night at the opera.
Madame de . . . goes out with her husband. Andre de. . . . The Count. The General.
Who looks like . . . could he be? He is! None other than Charles Boyer.
Whom you may know from Gaslight (1944). That thrilling thriller directed by George Cukor. In which Boyer plays Gregory Anton.
That doer of dastardly deeds.
Who marries Ingrid Bergman in order to steal . . . you guessed it! . . . her jewelry.
But here he is a good man. He does not want jewels. He does not steal jewels. He gives jewels. He gives generously to Madame de. . . .
He gave her the earrings.
At the opera she announces that her earrings have gone missing. He tells her that she did not wear them. She insists she did. He agrees to look for them. He looks in their box. He looks in the lobby. He looks in her friends' box. Finally, when the opera is over, an offer is made to turn it over to the police. He accepts. The police begin an investigation.
The newspaper reports it. Jewel theft at the opera!
The jeweler reads it. Uh-oh. He clips it. He takes it. He visits Andre de . . . with it. He shows him the earrings. He tells him in private that she sold them to him. Andre de . . . offers to buy them back again. In a hurry he puts them in his overcoat pocket.
The General goes to the railway station.
He is seeing off his mistress. Her name is Lola. She is not a showgirl. She is going to Constantinople to start a new life. They enter compartment 13. He calls it her lucky number. As he turns to leave he finds the earrings in his overcoat pocket. On impulse he gives them to her as a gift. A souvenir. To remember me. The second time the General has given these earrings to a woman.
Lola goes to Constantinople. She has to explain to the Turkish authorities that the earrings were a gift from a man who loved her.
Lola likes to gamble. She gambles her money. She bets it all on lucky number 13. Lucky number 13 is unlucky. She loses it all.
She cashes in the earrings. The second time a woman has sold these earrings for money.
She bets it all on lucky number 13. Lucky number 13 is unlucky. She loses it all again.
The House sells the earrings. Sells them to a Turkish bazaar. The bazaar sells the earrings. Sells them to an Italian baron.
Who looks like . . . could he be? He is! None other than Vittorio de Sica.
Who?
Vittorio de Sica. The famous Italian film director. Who directed around 37 films.
Whom you may know from Bicycle Thieves (1948). The great classic. For years it was mistranslated as The Bicycle Thief, but recently the title has been corrected.
de Sica--who shares his last name with us--is also known for directing The Children Are Watching Us (1944), Umberto D (1952), Indiscretion of an American Wife (1953), Marriage Italian Style (1964), starring Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni, and the English-language After the Fox (1966), starring Peter Sellers and Victor Mature.
Wait.
A great Italian director is acting in a French film?
Since when did this director decide to act?
Since he was 16.
Vittorio de Sica is an actor. He acted for years before he became a director. In fact, he acted in at least 157 roles in 57 years. He directed 37 movies. He acted in 157 movies. He knows what he is doing.
And he is quite handsome and quite good.
You may even know him as Renaldi in Charles Vidor's version of A Farewell to Arms (1957), starring Rock Hudson and Jennifer Jones.
The Baron runs into the Madame.
Literally.
Their carriages run into one another. After their having seen one another at Customs a few weeks before.
They declare it to be fate.
They begin a friendship. A beautiful friendship.
They go to dances. They dance. He fills up her dance card with his own name. He wants all the dances.
Her husband, a trusting man, trusts the Baron. Trusts Madame de. . . .
Normally, that would be a good proposition, but this time something is different.
As the Baron begins to fall for Madame de . . ., he decides to give her a gift. He sends her flowers.
Along with a pair of earrings.
A pair of earrings he bought at a Turkish bazaar.
Uh-oh.
This love triangle is about to take off.
And it might just be, shall we say, a little bit explosive.
This is a beautiful film.
Max Ophuls pulls out all the stops. Production design. Sets. Props. Wardrobe. Music. Camera movement.
The jewelry alone!
This film makes Merchant-Ivory films look indigent. And unmannerly.
It is as graceful and lavish as anything you have ever seen.
And you will want to see it again and again.
Do you remember in Woody Allen's film Midnight in Paris (2011) when Adriana (played by Marion Cotillard) longs to go to the Belle Epoque period (late 19th century) in France?
Well, this film will make you want to go there as well.
By the way, in Woody's movie, our boy Gil (played by Owen Wilson) buys Adriana a pair of earrings.
Woody Allen might just know his film history.
093 - The Earrings of Madame de . . ., 1953, France. Dir. Max Ophuls.
Madame de . . . is in debt.
Madame de . . . what?
Madame de . . . we do not know.
Every time someone speaks her name, her last name is drowned out by some other noise.
That Max Ophuls sure does have a sense of humor.
Or perhaps we should say Louise Leveque de Vilmorin has a sense of humor.
She is the one who wrote the novel, Madame de. . . .
Notice that Madame de Vilmorin has the pleasure of sharing her last name. She simply does not wish to share the last name of her creation.
Pretty sneaky of you, Madame de Vilmorin.
But enough about that Madame de. . . . Let us discuss our Madame de. . . .
Our Madame de . . . is in debt. So she decides to sell something. Her jewelry? Her furs? She looks around the room. Into her many closets and drawers.
She settles upon her earrings. They will fetch a nice price. They were a wedding gift from her husband, but no matter. She will come up with a ruse. She is a woman, after all.
Madame de . . . goes to the jeweler. She is known there. She seems at home there. Her home away from home there.
He escorts her up the spiral staircase. To a place of privacy. She asks for privacy. He assures her that it is what keeps him in business.
She offers to sell the earrings. He says No. She faints. He says Yes.
A handy tool, that fainting is. She uses it often to her advantage.
As he escorts her out, he shows her a figure. She accepts it. He watches her figure as she enters into her carriage.
Later that evening . . .
It is time for a night at the opera.
Madame de . . . goes out with her husband. Andre de. . . . The Count. The General.
Who looks like . . . could he be? He is! None other than Charles Boyer.
Whom you may know from Gaslight (1944). That thrilling thriller directed by George Cukor. In which Boyer plays Gregory Anton.
That doer of dastardly deeds.
Who marries Ingrid Bergman in order to steal . . . you guessed it! . . . her jewelry.
But here he is a good man. He does not want jewels. He does not steal jewels. He gives jewels. He gives generously to Madame de. . . .
He gave her the earrings.
At the opera she announces that her earrings have gone missing. He tells her that she did not wear them. She insists she did. He agrees to look for them. He looks in their box. He looks in the lobby. He looks in her friends' box. Finally, when the opera is over, an offer is made to turn it over to the police. He accepts. The police begin an investigation.
The newspaper reports it. Jewel theft at the opera!
The jeweler reads it. Uh-oh. He clips it. He takes it. He visits Andre de . . . with it. He shows him the earrings. He tells him in private that she sold them to him. Andre de . . . offers to buy them back again. In a hurry he puts them in his overcoat pocket.
The General goes to the railway station.
He is seeing off his mistress. Her name is Lola. She is not a showgirl. She is going to Constantinople to start a new life. They enter compartment 13. He calls it her lucky number. As he turns to leave he finds the earrings in his overcoat pocket. On impulse he gives them to her as a gift. A souvenir. To remember me. The second time the General has given these earrings to a woman.
Lola goes to Constantinople. She has to explain to the Turkish authorities that the earrings were a gift from a man who loved her.
Lola likes to gamble. She gambles her money. She bets it all on lucky number 13. Lucky number 13 is unlucky. She loses it all.
She cashes in the earrings. The second time a woman has sold these earrings for money.
She bets it all on lucky number 13. Lucky number 13 is unlucky. She loses it all again.
The House sells the earrings. Sells them to a Turkish bazaar. The bazaar sells the earrings. Sells them to an Italian baron.
Who looks like . . . could he be? He is! None other than Vittorio de Sica.
Who?
Vittorio de Sica. The famous Italian film director. Who directed around 37 films.
Whom you may know from Bicycle Thieves (1948). The great classic. For years it was mistranslated as The Bicycle Thief, but recently the title has been corrected.
de Sica--who shares his last name with us--is also known for directing The Children Are Watching Us (1944), Umberto D (1952), Indiscretion of an American Wife (1953), Marriage Italian Style (1964), starring Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni, and the English-language After the Fox (1966), starring Peter Sellers and Victor Mature.
Wait.
A great Italian director is acting in a French film?
Since when did this director decide to act?
Since he was 16.
Vittorio de Sica is an actor. He acted for years before he became a director. In fact, he acted in at least 157 roles in 57 years. He directed 37 movies. He acted in 157 movies. He knows what he is doing.
And he is quite handsome and quite good.
You may even know him as Renaldi in Charles Vidor's version of A Farewell to Arms (1957), starring Rock Hudson and Jennifer Jones.
The Baron runs into the Madame.
Literally.
Their carriages run into one another. After their having seen one another at Customs a few weeks before.
They declare it to be fate.
They begin a friendship. A beautiful friendship.
They go to dances. They dance. He fills up her dance card with his own name. He wants all the dances.
Her husband, a trusting man, trusts the Baron. Trusts Madame de. . . .
Normally, that would be a good proposition, but this time something is different.
As the Baron begins to fall for Madame de . . ., he decides to give her a gift. He sends her flowers.
Along with a pair of earrings.
A pair of earrings he bought at a Turkish bazaar.
Uh-oh.
This love triangle is about to take off.
And it might just be, shall we say, a little bit explosive.
This is a beautiful film.
Max Ophuls pulls out all the stops. Production design. Sets. Props. Wardrobe. Music. Camera movement.
The jewelry alone!
This film makes Merchant-Ivory films look indigent. And unmannerly.
It is as graceful and lavish as anything you have ever seen.
And you will want to see it again and again.
Do you remember in Woody Allen's film Midnight in Paris (2011) when Adriana (played by Marion Cotillard) longs to go to the Belle Epoque period (late 19th century) in France?
Well, this film will make you want to go there as well.
By the way, in Woody's movie, our boy Gil (played by Owen Wilson) buys Adriana a pair of earrings.
Woody Allen might just know his film history.
Sunday, April 2, 2017
092 - Le Plaisir, 1952, France. Dir. Max Ophuls.
Sunday, April 2, 2017
092 - Le Plaisir, 1952, France. Dir. Max Ophuls.
1. THE MASK
A crowd is coming to the theater. The Dancing Palace. To listen to live music and to dance.
The man in the mask comes.
He races through the lobby, up the stairs, to the dance floor, and begins dancing!
He has enormous energy. He knows the steps. The others have enormous energy. They know the steps.
The narrator tells us that he dances awkwardly. He begins to dance awkwardly, throwing up his arms above his head, tilting side to side.
He and the woman, his dance partner, talk between steps. They seem to hit it off.
He collapses.
They carry him out. Lay him on a table. A doctor cuts off his jacket and shirt with scissors.
A fellow man carries him home in a horse and buggy. They arrive. The narrator tells us it is a grimy apartment building filled with desperate people.
The wife receives him coldly.
"It's not the first time he's landed on his face from frolicking around."
It turns out he is an older man. He hides his age behind his mask. He wishes to enjoy life.
He wishes to recapture his youth.
2. THE HOUSE OF TELLIER
A husband and wife, The Telliers, establish a house of pleasure. The husband dies. The wife runs it. The men of the town love it.
One day the light is off. The house is closed. The men as they arrive meet one another. They discover that each of them has been coming. They do not know what to do.
Meanwhile, the woman have gone out to the country. Madame Tellier's brother lives there. His niece is going to have First Communion. They have come to attend it. To support her.
They get fresh air. Her brother, Joseph, falls for one of the girls, Rosa. They attend the communion.
While the women are in church, something happens to them. They sense a divine presence. It washes over them. They weep.
When they return, they are filled with joy. The men of the town arrive, without knowing how they know that they are back, and everyone celebrates. Something about the women is different. They are filled with joy. They share it with the town.
3. THE MODEL
A painter paints. He is stuck. He is frustrated.
Until he meets model. And she transforms him. He falls in love. He woos her. They live in bliss.
Until they no longer do. Life settles in. They grow tired of one another. The first rush of infatuation fades. The feelings leave. They have to negotiate the tedium of daily routine.
He writes her a letter, sends her money, says goodbye. She refuses. Arrives at his place. Demands he keep her. Says she will jump out the window if he does not. A friend explains to her that his family requires him to marry someone else.
She jumps in anyway. She breaks her legs. He marries her quickly out of impulse.
They live somethingly ever after.
* * * * *
This film is based on three short stories by Guy De Maupassant.
It is three separate short films combined. They are unrelated. Ophuls ties to connect them through the theme of pleasure. 1) Pleasure and youth. 2) Pleasure and purity. 3) Pleasure and death. But that is a stretch.
This kind of picture is called an "anthology film." Some recent examples include New York Stories (1989), Four Rooms (1995), Coffee and Cigarettes (2003), Paris, I Love You (2006), and To Each His Own Cinema (2007).
Filmmakers who make them often say they wish they had not.
Or they were happy they did but did it for some artistic reason knowing that they would not make money.
In this case, we do not have three thirds. We have a very shirt first piece, a long middle piece, and a moderately short third piece. Ophuls could have taken the middle piece and expanded it into its own feature. Or he could have taken the middle piece and cut out all the unnecessary parts.
Recently I have called some of the scripts taut or tightly written, with nothing extraneous. The middle section of this film has plenty of material that is extraneous.
When you make a movie, the source material matters. How you use it matters even more.
Having said that, Ophuls approaches the material with his usual magic touch and daring. Le Plaisir was rightly nominated for an Oscar for Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Black and White. It is a beautiful film to watch, especially in the city where he can control the buildings in a sound stage and fill them with beautiful props, set pieces, and furniture through which to weave his ever-moving camera.
Sometimes we stay outside the Tellier House and move around looking through windows while the action goes on freely inside, with everything perfectly choreographed to arrive at our window at the right time.
If you are an aspiring filmmaker, then Max Ophuls is someone for you to study. Closely.
There is also a moment in the middle short film that arrests in its honesty.
Ophuls films spirituality. Simply. Without irony. Without comment. And achieves it.
When the women sit in church during First Communion, they sense the presence of God.
The organist plays the hymn.
"Nearer My God to Thee."
The acolytes walk forward with their long cross candles. The choir sings. The camera pans across the iconography of the church. We cut to an exterior low angle shot, looking up at the steeple and the cross. The choir sings. We cut back to the interior. We pan back to the women. They begin to respond. First one. Then another. Then a wave sweeps over all of them.
The camera sweeps over and across the interior of the church as the narrator explains--
Like a spark that sets fire to the dry grass, Rosa and her companions' tears spread through the crowd in an instant. Men, women, the elderly, young men in new smocks--everyone was soon sobbing. Something superhuman seemed to hover above their heads, an all-pervading spirit, the powerful breath of an invisible, all-powerful being.
The narrator stops. The camera continues. The music continues. The congregants allow the Spirit to move upon them.
Joseph sees Maria and moves to her. They are kneeling on the kneeling railing. He wants to say something. Tries to.
The priest approaches the pulpit. Steps up into it. Begins the sermon with gratitude and joy.
We move on.
The entire scene takes up between three and four minutes of screen time. And is hidden inside a light comedic film. When you finish the film, you might even forget this scene. When you think of Ophuls, you might not list this film as a first example of his filmmaking. It contains the production design and camera daring of yesterday's film La Ronde, but it cannot keep up in theme or narrative structure. It wanders.
But in this moment he has accomplished something. It is significant. And for that we say, Thank you.
092 - Le Plaisir, 1952, France. Dir. Max Ophuls.
1. THE MASK
A crowd is coming to the theater. The Dancing Palace. To listen to live music and to dance.
The man in the mask comes.
He races through the lobby, up the stairs, to the dance floor, and begins dancing!
He has enormous energy. He knows the steps. The others have enormous energy. They know the steps.
The narrator tells us that he dances awkwardly. He begins to dance awkwardly, throwing up his arms above his head, tilting side to side.
He and the woman, his dance partner, talk between steps. They seem to hit it off.
He collapses.
They carry him out. Lay him on a table. A doctor cuts off his jacket and shirt with scissors.
A fellow man carries him home in a horse and buggy. They arrive. The narrator tells us it is a grimy apartment building filled with desperate people.
The wife receives him coldly.
"It's not the first time he's landed on his face from frolicking around."
It turns out he is an older man. He hides his age behind his mask. He wishes to enjoy life.
He wishes to recapture his youth.
2. THE HOUSE OF TELLIER
A husband and wife, The Telliers, establish a house of pleasure. The husband dies. The wife runs it. The men of the town love it.
One day the light is off. The house is closed. The men as they arrive meet one another. They discover that each of them has been coming. They do not know what to do.
Meanwhile, the woman have gone out to the country. Madame Tellier's brother lives there. His niece is going to have First Communion. They have come to attend it. To support her.
They get fresh air. Her brother, Joseph, falls for one of the girls, Rosa. They attend the communion.
While the women are in church, something happens to them. They sense a divine presence. It washes over them. They weep.
When they return, they are filled with joy. The men of the town arrive, without knowing how they know that they are back, and everyone celebrates. Something about the women is different. They are filled with joy. They share it with the town.
3. THE MODEL
A painter paints. He is stuck. He is frustrated.
Until he meets model. And she transforms him. He falls in love. He woos her. They live in bliss.
Until they no longer do. Life settles in. They grow tired of one another. The first rush of infatuation fades. The feelings leave. They have to negotiate the tedium of daily routine.
He writes her a letter, sends her money, says goodbye. She refuses. Arrives at his place. Demands he keep her. Says she will jump out the window if he does not. A friend explains to her that his family requires him to marry someone else.
She jumps in anyway. She breaks her legs. He marries her quickly out of impulse.
They live somethingly ever after.
* * * * *
This film is based on three short stories by Guy De Maupassant.
It is three separate short films combined. They are unrelated. Ophuls ties to connect them through the theme of pleasure. 1) Pleasure and youth. 2) Pleasure and purity. 3) Pleasure and death. But that is a stretch.
This kind of picture is called an "anthology film." Some recent examples include New York Stories (1989), Four Rooms (1995), Coffee and Cigarettes (2003), Paris, I Love You (2006), and To Each His Own Cinema (2007).
Filmmakers who make them often say they wish they had not.
Or they were happy they did but did it for some artistic reason knowing that they would not make money.
In this case, we do not have three thirds. We have a very shirt first piece, a long middle piece, and a moderately short third piece. Ophuls could have taken the middle piece and expanded it into its own feature. Or he could have taken the middle piece and cut out all the unnecessary parts.
Recently I have called some of the scripts taut or tightly written, with nothing extraneous. The middle section of this film has plenty of material that is extraneous.
When you make a movie, the source material matters. How you use it matters even more.
Having said that, Ophuls approaches the material with his usual magic touch and daring. Le Plaisir was rightly nominated for an Oscar for Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Black and White. It is a beautiful film to watch, especially in the city where he can control the buildings in a sound stage and fill them with beautiful props, set pieces, and furniture through which to weave his ever-moving camera.
Sometimes we stay outside the Tellier House and move around looking through windows while the action goes on freely inside, with everything perfectly choreographed to arrive at our window at the right time.
If you are an aspiring filmmaker, then Max Ophuls is someone for you to study. Closely.
There is also a moment in the middle short film that arrests in its honesty.
Ophuls films spirituality. Simply. Without irony. Without comment. And achieves it.
When the women sit in church during First Communion, they sense the presence of God.
The organist plays the hymn.
"Nearer My God to Thee."
The acolytes walk forward with their long cross candles. The choir sings. The camera pans across the iconography of the church. We cut to an exterior low angle shot, looking up at the steeple and the cross. The choir sings. We cut back to the interior. We pan back to the women. They begin to respond. First one. Then another. Then a wave sweeps over all of them.
The camera sweeps over and across the interior of the church as the narrator explains--
Like a spark that sets fire to the dry grass, Rosa and her companions' tears spread through the crowd in an instant. Men, women, the elderly, young men in new smocks--everyone was soon sobbing. Something superhuman seemed to hover above their heads, an all-pervading spirit, the powerful breath of an invisible, all-powerful being.
The narrator stops. The camera continues. The music continues. The congregants allow the Spirit to move upon them.
Joseph sees Maria and moves to her. They are kneeling on the kneeling railing. He wants to say something. Tries to.
The priest approaches the pulpit. Steps up into it. Begins the sermon with gratitude and joy.
We move on.
The entire scene takes up between three and four minutes of screen time. And is hidden inside a light comedic film. When you finish the film, you might even forget this scene. When you think of Ophuls, you might not list this film as a first example of his filmmaking. It contains the production design and camera daring of yesterday's film La Ronde, but it cannot keep up in theme or narrative structure. It wanders.
But in this moment he has accomplished something. It is significant. And for that we say, Thank you.
Saturday, April 1, 2017
091 - La Ronde, 1950, France. Dir. Max Ophuls.
Saturday, April 1, 2017
091 - La Ronde, 1950, France. Dir. Max Ophuls.
This film is as light and breezy as a French silk pie.
Or a tiramisu.
Light. Delicate. Complex. Nuanced. Tasty.
With the title La Ronde (the round, a circle dance), this film contains more circles than the Coen Brothers.
If that is possible.
The earth turns on its axis. Love makes it rounds. Time turns. Lives turn. We will come full circle in the end.
The cyclorama. The carousel. The crank. The gears. The dance. Round hats. Top hats. Spiral staircases. Rings. Glasses. Cups. Plates. Wheels. French curves.
When watching this film, you may wonder whether it was made by a film director or by a magician.
Max Ophuls loves camera movement. He loves highly stylized, highly choreographed long takes. And he moves the camera in ways that seem unique to him.
It is as though the camera is suspended in mid-air. As though it can move on any axis, in any direction, at any speed, at any time.
He is working in 1950, in an era of jibs and dollies, but he produces the kinds of results that make you think he is working with an indoor silent drone. One that could carry a quarter-ton Mitchell camera on it without flinching. One that would never lose battery power or altitude.
The camera moves are not done for their own sakes, as they might be done in a movie today, to draw attention to themselves. They are done in service of the film. They seem effortless. Poetic. And again, magical.
Then suddenly he will cut to a Dutch angle. Canted. Tilted. Cockeyed. A low angle. Looking up. On a slant. This happens when we see the narrator. Or when we see through the eyes of a particular character. A point of view.
The production design is gorgeous. It was nominated for an Oscar. It won a BAFTA. It is a beautiful film to look at.
And Ophuls does something else that seems unique to him. He does not merely move the camera through an open room. He fills the rooms with railings and greenery and furniture. The actors move down one lane while the camera moves down another, looking through objects, in deep focus, giving greater dimensionality.
The film is also meta, self-referential, self-aware, before that practice became overdone. Here it is done creatively, artfully. It is alive with possibility.
We begin on the waterfront, with Anton Walbrook as the Raconteur addressing us directly. Who is he? The writer? The ringmaster? The emcee? He says he is the image of your desires.
He will appear to us between scenes as the master magician behind all of the scenes. Then he will appear within the scenes as a character, in disguise. The other characters will be surprised to see him. They will not recognize him. But he will always know something about them. Indeed, he created them!
In one scene he will even censor the scene itself. As the scene plays out, we will cut to him in the editing room. He will splice the film in front of us. He will play the scene again, and it will have a different outcome this time from the first one.
`
He talks. He sings. He tells us that the story will move. Will turn.
He walks up the steps from the waterfront onto the theatre stage. With footlights. Curtains. A spotlight.
He steps off of the theatre stage onto the sound stage. A film set. With lights. Camera. And . . .
The carousel.
He talks. He sings. He starts the carousel. It turns.
It contains a wide array of items upon which a potential rider may sit. A horse, yes. But a child's swing. A step-ladder.
A step-ladder?
We are about to go on a round dance of love, a daisy-chain. These carousel seats may be symbolic of the strange situations in which lovers find themselves.
As the carousel turns, it delivers our first character. A woman. A woman of the night.
Like Eve, she enters the set unsure of where she is, or who she is, or what she wants. The Ringmaster tells her. Like a master director, he takes her to her location, explains her scene, and initiates the action.
He steps away and the soldiers begin passing. She approaches the one written for her, told to her, destined for her to approach.
Something else magical happens for us.
We realize that we are watching a young Simone Signoret and a young Serge Reggiani acting in a scene together. We saw her in Diabolique (1955), which will be made five years after this one. We saw him in Le Doulos (1963), which will be made thirteen years later. And we saw both of them in Army of Shadows (1970), made twenty years later. Here they are closer to the beginning of their careers (although both here in their twenties have already made around twenty movies).
The scenes will all connect. She will go for him in this scene. He will go for someone else in the next scene. That woman will go for someone else in the next scene. That man will go for someone else in the next scene. Until it comes back to the first person.
As you watch La Ronde, you may recognize a premise similar to the one in the 1998 David Hare play The Blue Room. Nicole Kidman brought attention to this play when she performed it in London. We used to perform it in acting school. The Blue Room contains the same daisy chain of hook-ups, with ten scenes, with ten characters, five characters of each sex, performed by only two actors, each one playing five characters.
Both The Blue Room and our film La Ronde were based on Arthur Schnitzler's Austrian play known commonly as La Ronde. It is the same premise.
Max Ophuls was born in Germany, near the French border, and made films in both Germany and France. Under the German occupation of France, he left for America and made four films in Hollywood. Then he returned to France and made French films again.
And he makes this one to be about as delicious as it can be.
It is charming.
It is delightful
It comes full circle.
Will the circle be unbroken?
Time to dance the roundelay.
091 - La Ronde, 1950, France. Dir. Max Ophuls.
This film is as light and breezy as a French silk pie.
Or a tiramisu.
Light. Delicate. Complex. Nuanced. Tasty.
With the title La Ronde (the round, a circle dance), this film contains more circles than the Coen Brothers.
If that is possible.
The earth turns on its axis. Love makes it rounds. Time turns. Lives turn. We will come full circle in the end.
The cyclorama. The carousel. The crank. The gears. The dance. Round hats. Top hats. Spiral staircases. Rings. Glasses. Cups. Plates. Wheels. French curves.
When watching this film, you may wonder whether it was made by a film director or by a magician.
Max Ophuls loves camera movement. He loves highly stylized, highly choreographed long takes. And he moves the camera in ways that seem unique to him.
It is as though the camera is suspended in mid-air. As though it can move on any axis, in any direction, at any speed, at any time.
He is working in 1950, in an era of jibs and dollies, but he produces the kinds of results that make you think he is working with an indoor silent drone. One that could carry a quarter-ton Mitchell camera on it without flinching. One that would never lose battery power or altitude.
The camera moves are not done for their own sakes, as they might be done in a movie today, to draw attention to themselves. They are done in service of the film. They seem effortless. Poetic. And again, magical.
Then suddenly he will cut to a Dutch angle. Canted. Tilted. Cockeyed. A low angle. Looking up. On a slant. This happens when we see the narrator. Or when we see through the eyes of a particular character. A point of view.
The production design is gorgeous. It was nominated for an Oscar. It won a BAFTA. It is a beautiful film to look at.
And Ophuls does something else that seems unique to him. He does not merely move the camera through an open room. He fills the rooms with railings and greenery and furniture. The actors move down one lane while the camera moves down another, looking through objects, in deep focus, giving greater dimensionality.
The film is also meta, self-referential, self-aware, before that practice became overdone. Here it is done creatively, artfully. It is alive with possibility.
We begin on the waterfront, with Anton Walbrook as the Raconteur addressing us directly. Who is he? The writer? The ringmaster? The emcee? He says he is the image of your desires.
He will appear to us between scenes as the master magician behind all of the scenes. Then he will appear within the scenes as a character, in disguise. The other characters will be surprised to see him. They will not recognize him. But he will always know something about them. Indeed, he created them!
In one scene he will even censor the scene itself. As the scene plays out, we will cut to him in the editing room. He will splice the film in front of us. He will play the scene again, and it will have a different outcome this time from the first one.
`
He talks. He sings. He tells us that the story will move. Will turn.
He walks up the steps from the waterfront onto the theatre stage. With footlights. Curtains. A spotlight.
He steps off of the theatre stage onto the sound stage. A film set. With lights. Camera. And . . .
The carousel.
He talks. He sings. He starts the carousel. It turns.
It contains a wide array of items upon which a potential rider may sit. A horse, yes. But a child's swing. A step-ladder.
A step-ladder?
We are about to go on a round dance of love, a daisy-chain. These carousel seats may be symbolic of the strange situations in which lovers find themselves.
As the carousel turns, it delivers our first character. A woman. A woman of the night.
Like Eve, she enters the set unsure of where she is, or who she is, or what she wants. The Ringmaster tells her. Like a master director, he takes her to her location, explains her scene, and initiates the action.
He steps away and the soldiers begin passing. She approaches the one written for her, told to her, destined for her to approach.
Something else magical happens for us.
We realize that we are watching a young Simone Signoret and a young Serge Reggiani acting in a scene together. We saw her in Diabolique (1955), which will be made five years after this one. We saw him in Le Doulos (1963), which will be made thirteen years later. And we saw both of them in Army of Shadows (1970), made twenty years later. Here they are closer to the beginning of their careers (although both here in their twenties have already made around twenty movies).
The scenes will all connect. She will go for him in this scene. He will go for someone else in the next scene. That woman will go for someone else in the next scene. That man will go for someone else in the next scene. Until it comes back to the first person.
As you watch La Ronde, you may recognize a premise similar to the one in the 1998 David Hare play The Blue Room. Nicole Kidman brought attention to this play when she performed it in London. We used to perform it in acting school. The Blue Room contains the same daisy chain of hook-ups, with ten scenes, with ten characters, five characters of each sex, performed by only two actors, each one playing five characters.
Both The Blue Room and our film La Ronde were based on Arthur Schnitzler's Austrian play known commonly as La Ronde. It is the same premise.
Max Ophuls was born in Germany, near the French border, and made films in both Germany and France. Under the German occupation of France, he left for America and made four films in Hollywood. Then he returned to France and made French films again.
And he makes this one to be about as delicious as it can be.
It is charming.
It is delightful
It comes full circle.
Will the circle be unbroken?
Time to dance the roundelay.
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