This Week in Cinema, I Learned…Jan 14-20 2024
Written by Cameron Geiser
Welcome to This Week in Cinema, a yearlong film criticism project wherein I will be watching a new film that I haven't seen every single day.
This edition of This Week in Cinema was a glorious spread of Humanity's range. With respect to Ace in The Hole and My Dinner with André in particular, these films and the subjects they’re invested in have unforeseen levels of relevance to today's world. Truthfully each film has its own lesson for today's world, but I feel these two have the strongest focus in that arena. The other commonality between this week's films is the narrative reliance on people simply talking with each other. Which is a refreshing balm against the dredges of modernity (Looking at you, Aquaman and The Lost Kingdom). I'll tag each film's specific lesson for today's world below.
January 14th
There was a Father (1942)
5/5
When it comes to the work of Ozu, I generally enjoy everything he's done but his best works, in my opinion, are the most emotionally devastating of his oeuvre. Whereas in the last Ozu film I covered, The Only Son, I was beginning to see him evolve away from his Silent Pictures tropes and towards his peak stretch of films from Tokyo Story on. This film, however, is where he emerges from the cocoon of transformation as a larva Ozu (forgive the analogy of disgusting pupa in regards to one of the greatest filmmakers of all time- but it works). It was here that Chishū Ryū began to stand out as a leading actor as important to Ozu as Toshiro Mifune was to Akira Kurosawa creatively speaking.
Chishū Ryū stars as the Ozu prerequisite single parent who puts everything into striving for his young son's education and future. Much like in The Only Son, there is a massive time jump in order to evoke a lifetime of strife and loneliness just for the connection between parent and child to be frayed. Both characters worked themselves to the bone just so they could potentially live together as a family and support each other, but personal assumptions and beliefs get in the way of the father's acceptance of his son wanting to give back to his father after he put everything on the line for his education growing up. There's oodles of humanity in this one, and it's among the finest of Ozu's films. Check it out, but get a box of tissues ready!
This Film’s Lesson for Today: Spend time with your family as well as you can.
January 15th
Ace in The Hole (1951)
5/5
The more I see Billy Wilder's films, the more I love his work as a filmmaker within the Hollywood Studio system. This film should be paired with Citizen Kane as a double feature about corrupt power hungry journalists, because Kirk Douglas as Chuck Tatum could certainly rival Orson Welles' Charles Foster Kane for who is the most immoral man inked in print. Chuck Tatum is essentially toxic masculinity balled up into the form of a man. He begins the tale as a down on his luck former big city hot shot journalist who's hit the road in search of any small-town newspaper that will take him. He eventually finds a home in the Albuquerque Sun-Bulletin, a small paper run by an old school no nonsense news editor.
Fast forward a year and we see an antsy and irritated Chuck Tatum, annoyed by the slow pace of Albuquerque life, sent out on the road to write an article about rattlesnakes in the desert. At a stop for gas Tatum, and Herbie Cook (Robert Arthur) the young photographer for the paper, hear about a man trapped under some rubble deep in an old abandoned Native American cliff dwelling nearby. They decide to check it out with Tatum heading into the cave to talk with the man trapped there, Leo Minosa (Richard Benedict). Tatum chats with Leo, snaps his picture, and has his face on the Sun-Bulletin's front page the following morning. Before you know it Tatum has organized this accident into an event, and he's wanted a big scoop this entire time so that he may be able to walk back into the New York print world with pride and the envy of those who scorned him previously. He's cynical and ruthless in his quest to sensationalize one man's suffering, eventually turning it into a national news story, a mad house really. I was astounded by how insane the whole thing got, but honestly by the time the credits rolled, the most impressive aspect that stayed with me of the film was Kirk Douglas, he played a cunning bastard exquisitely. With Ace in The Hole Wilder has crafted a biting satire on the relationship between the press and the public and the manipulation of the news for views.
This Film’s Lesson for Today: Tell the Truth, no matter how banal.
January 16th
My Night at Maud's (1969)
4/5
Watching Éric Rohmer's Six Moral Tales in order has been a captivating experience if I'm being honest. Each film sees him step further away from the tenets of The New Wave and his peers of the era. This film in particular intelligently showcases Rohmers skill at depicting the subtleties of intimacy, love, and body language. Much like several of the other films I saw this week, this film is about people talking with each other, not at each other, and that alone is revitalizing.
During the first half of the film Jean-Louis (Jean-Louis Trintignant) is often discussing a series of obsessions including Religion, Mathematics, Books, Music, and Pascal in particular with his friend Vidal (Antoine Vitez) as they catch up after years apart. As an American, the only Pascal I know is Pedro. Obviously I expected cultural references that I might not be versed in, but this itself further demonstrates Rohmer gliding away from his contemporaries in style, subject, and direction. He's clearly deeply immersed in culture and expressing these deeper dives through dialogue. However the real story begins when Vidal brings Jean-Louis to Maud's (Françoise Fabian) apartment.
When Vidal has to leave early Jean-Louis stays behind, it being late after much conversation, it's decided that it would be easier to just stay the night. Maud settles the matter by insisting that the snow is too dangerous to drive in. You see Maud dates Vidal to her whim, but won't marry him. Thus the sexual tension, which is brilliantly showcased through the scene's direction, feels both lax at times and yet crackling. However, Jean-Louis has also recently fallen for a girl he hasn't met, a Blonde that he's seen on a scooter who also attends the same church as him. He seems intent on crafting a meet-cute and potentially marrying her. He and Maud discuss this amongst a plethora of other intimate details, it's a conversational prelude to sex that most have had or will engage in at some point. Fate and chance are the ultimate undercurrents here, mingled with the grand notions of a planned life versus the intimacy of our biological demands. With My Night at Maud's Éric Rohmer continues to evolve his style while slyly indicating that he harbors a deep knowledge of human nature that I look forward to seeing develop over time.
This Film’s Lesson for Today: Allow yourself to experience intimacy.
January 17th
Silent Movie (1976)
3/5
Honestly, with all due respect to Mel Brooks, this was an acceptable comedy but it was one of his lesser efforts. The structure of the comedy is a simple one, where Mel Brooks, Dom DeLuise, and Marty Feldman star as Mel Funn, Dom Bell, and Marty Eggs. Mel Funn is a former big time Director that ruined his own career through Alcoholism and is trying to make a comeback film, while Bell and Eggs are just his comic cronies that tag along in the quest to save Funn's career. The Studio head (Sid Caesar) loses it when Funn reveals the concept of a Silent movie in the 1970s but changes course once Funn declares that they'd attempt to negotiate with Hollywood's biggest stars. Besides, the Studio needed a hit lest they get bought out by some deliriously elitist financiers named Engulf and Devour. So they travel around Hollywood trying to woo some of the biggest stars of the 1970s to be in a Silent Picture. Burt Reynolds' bit in the shower was pretty damn funny, and Paul Newman showing up at all was a delight. The visual gags were pretty good, as always, and I admire the stylistic core concept, but the best part of Silent Movie is that even if a joke didn't land, it usually produced a smirk at the cartoonishly manic desire of Mel Brooks to make you laugh- no matter the cost.
This Film’s Lesson for Today: Maybe lay off the F-word? (It's not the one that rhymes with “firetruck”).
January 18th
My Dinner with André (1981)
4/5
If you had told me that a film that literally only consists of a conversation between two people in one setting for about two hours would be one of the most interesting films of the week I would have my curiosity peaked, but also paired with a sprinkling of suspicion (fears of a Jeanne Dielman repeat have plagued my mind once or twice). My Dinner with André stars Wallace Shawn and André Gregory as two pieces of the New York Theatre scene that decide to catch up for dinner in a bougie restaurant after not seeing each other for five years. It turns out that André, a once-lauded Theatre Director who directed one of Wally's scripts, had become dissatisfied with life and the commercialism of Art and decided to take up an offer to lead a very experimental theatre workshop in the forests of Poland.
The gift of the film lies in Andrés ability to weave stories with fantastic visual wordplay, he knows how to tell a story and keep audiences attention rapt with curiosity and a bit of wonder. Initially I thought it would be entirely a one-sided conversation with Wallace Shawn just sidelined to listening to his friend talk about his travels- which admittedly was very immersive from a storytelling perspective. Once Wally (as André refers to him throughout the film) recognizes the gulf that has grown between them, that of pure artistic expressionism versus the practicality of everyday life, he takes center stage for some time too. The conversation's most interesting point in my opinion was how people are so busy with life that nobody knows how to actually communicate with each other in a thoughtful manner. While the two have different perspectives on life and the bigger picture of it all- they've learned something from that conversation, from each other.
This Film’s Lesson for Today: Be willing to engage in difficult, yet meaningful, conversation even if you disagree.
January 19th
Little Shop of Horrors — Director’s Cut (1986)
4/5
Any Musical that knows the value of a good Greek chorus has my respect immediately, and Little Shop of Horrors has my respect in spades. Frank Oz did a spectacular job directing this horror-comedy musical, and for the record I ended up watching the Director's Cut, which has an insane ending that is wholly different from the happy ending tacked onto the theatrical version. Set roughly near the end of the 1950s, or during the early 1960s, where Seymour (Rick Moranis) and Audrey (Ellen Greene) work in a decrepit flower shop owned by and named, Mushnik's (Vincent Gardenia). The employees are down on their luck, searching for love, and ultimately they're the characters that are often taken advantage of. Audrey has a sadistic boyfriend played by a tongue-in-cheek cameo from Steve Martin and Seymour is eventually controlled by Audrey II (Levi Stubbs), the peculiar plant that he picked up during a recent eclipse.
Obviously, things don't go so well once Seymour begins feeding Audrey II with blood until the sassy flytrap grows to a dangerous size and begins to throw their weight around figuratively and literally. This film is oozing with style and heightened performances, it's all very theatrical and very good. For example, I didn't know that Rick Moranis could sing! Though the song of the movie goes to Ellen Greene as Audrey in “Suddenly Seymour”. I really loved the unnerving artificiality of the production because it assists in the sense that this comedy may actually be, in fact, a tragedy. The cast filling out the film had delightfully odd performances from the likes of Christopher Guest, Bill Murray, and John Candy. It's a wonderful translation from stage to screen, and one I highly recommend.
This Film’s Lesson for Today: Stand up for yourself and don't let others abuse you.
January 20th
La Collectionneuse (1967)
4/5
The fourth of Éric Rohmer's Six Moral Tales has continued to mesmerize me more with each film. This film is a more efficient Love Triangle than the one in My Night at Maud's, and one that further pries open the objective nature of the camera as the characters espouse grand notions or vicious barbs to each other. I've noticed in this film that there's a considerable difference between what the characters say and their actual actions on screen, which I find hilarious because it reveals the characters' own fallibility showcased directly in front of us. The gulf between what characters say versus how they act is one of the most keen creative choices behind the film's brilliance. I love the notion that the camera is the all seeing eye of truth that has no emotional connection to these characters. Which, speaking of the characters, explicitly the male characters, aren't supposed to be liked, even according to Rohmer himself.
Adrien (Patrick Bauchau) is a part time antique collector trying to start a working relationship with a financier for his art gallery. He finds himself with a free summer for the first time in years as he waits for the details of his art gallery to be worked out and thus takes up a friend's offer to stay at his expansive house in the countryside while he waits. Upon his arrival he finds another mutual friend in Daniel (Daniel Pommereulle), an aloof Artist also attempting a vacation. Adien didn't expect the final guest though, a promiscuous young woman named Haydee (Haydee Politoff). Thus we learn about the three of them from Adrien's point of view over a few hours as each as the triangle of love rotates between them, with a push and pull that's playful without being too crass.
After watching the film I wasn't quite satisfied, so I read up on it a bit more to fully understand the approach of Rohmer and company. I appreciate the color photography, the new cinematographer, Nestor Almendros, that Rohmer would work with for years onward, and the deliberately more relaxed pace than his previous films. It's a lovely meditation on sensuality, the discrepancies of man and their falsehoods, and how to try and relax.
This Film’s Lesson for Today: Be honest with yourself and your intentions.
Cameron Geiser is an avid consumer of films and books about filmmakers. He'll watch any film at least once, and can usually be spotted at the annual Traverse City Film Festival in Northern Michigan. He also writes about film over at www.spacecortezwrites.com.