OTB#53: La notte

That’s some logo!

“Uhm hm uhm uhm”

You’d think after a lifetime of watching Italian movies I’d be used to the Italian approach to sound — i.e., not recording it, but adding it in post-production. But I’m not! Every time I watch an (old) Italian movie, it comes as a fresh shock.

Well, almost — sometimes it’s done so seamlessly that you almost don’t notice it, but more often than not (like here) I doubt the lines were even written when they filmed it, so the audio doesn’t match up with the actors much. I suspect the actors are just going “rabarbaro rabarbaro melanzane” in a vague way…

And the Italians allow the sound to go to absolute silence a lot — there’s foley work, of course, but sometimes the sound goes to _________ which never really happens in most movies — there’s almost always room ambience of some kind.

This movie isn’t on the critics’ top 250, but it’s #53 on the directors’ list because these directors voted for it. Hm… Roy Andersson makes sense… Sofia Coppola? Hm…

It’s an odd film. I think Antonioni is trying to say something with these constant juxtapositions of old (sometimes dilapidated) buildings and these brand new sky scrapers?

You know… sometimes you watch a movie and it’s not connecting, but then suddenly it snaps into focus and is riveting?

This is one of those movies. All of a sudden it’s the best! movie! ever!

Of course Jeanne Moreau is great.

That’s a good-looking gas station.

All these odd angles and weird ways of framing the shot… I love it.

It’s so weird… I feel like I’ve seen this before — but not exactly like this. Like a remake of this or something. But only certain scenes, like when she was walking around in that neighbourhood, and when they’re arriving at the party…

So many odd angles…

I can see why this isn’t on the critics’ list — it’s so oddly structured, and doesn’t go anywhere you’re expecting, really. But it’s just a fascinating movie: Every scene is gripping, and the stranger it gets, the more “right” it feels. It’s a stunning, gorgeous movie, with amazing performances by Mastroianni, Moreau and Vitti.

La notte. Michelangelo Antonioni. 1961.

This blog post is part of the Officially The Best 2022 series.

OTB#53: Fanny & Alexander

OK, strap in! It’s Bergman time!

I watched this movie five years ago, and it’s not new on the 2022 list — it was #16 then, and now it’s fallen down to #53. But Criterion has released a nice blu ray collection… which includes the TV series version! So I’m taking this opportunity to watch that.

Does that make sense? No? No.

But it’s more than five hours long (two hours more than the film version), and I don’t think I’ve ever seen this version before, so… what evs.

(Actually, I’m not quite sure — it was shown on TV when it was new, and I’m pretty sure I saw it then. But I’m not sure whether they showed the film or TV version.)

Since the TV version is like *maths* *calculations* *slide rule* 40% longer than the film version (5:21 vs 3:08), I was wondering what Bergman had dropped — I mean, whole sub plots, or just dropped some scenes and shortened others. So far (I mean, I’m just half an hour in), it’s the latter, I think. That is, there’s definitely scenes here that aren’t in the film version, but no additional characters or plot points.

That is, it moves a lot slower than the film version. Each scene seems longer — which suits the material. More time is dedicated to the peripheral characters.

Like these two — were they in the film version? Hm…

It’s like a Mythical Swedish Christmas Performance thing.

Well, the first 90 minutes flew by. The first episode covers the Christmas party and what happens during the following night. There were a couple of scenes that felt slightly superfluous, so I can see why Bergman cut them for the film version, but it mostly just seems like a more sensitive version of that sequence than was in the movie. That is, Bergman didn’t really cut anything really essential.

And now we’re onto the next day, and I’m guessing we’re now going to be seeing a whole lot more scenes that weren’t in the film version.

He’s so evil!!!

They have sailor’s suits for mourning!? The Swedes are so advanced.

This section was perhaps better in the film? It was more compressed, and it’s a section that (perhaps bizarrely enough) doesn’t feel that important dramatically: The father dies, which takes us from the part of the movie where the children are happy, to the part where they’re unhappy, but it feels like it’s there because it has to be — not because Bergman is that invested in it.

OK, a part of why I enjoy this movie so much is just because I love these interiors. My ideal apartment is one that is 90% hallways.

SO EVEIEL

The film is called Fanny & Alexander, but Fanny barely has any lines…

I didn’t quite remember this bit being this melodramatic… I mean, waking up a kid in the middle of the night — with lightning flashing — that more than a bit over the top.

I’m not criticising — I’m just saying.

So evil!!!

Oh, this scene with the ghosts was cut, I think?

This couple must be the most pathetic in movie history. But funny.

He’s so evil!

And in this longer version, his evility (that’s a word) is rather over the top.

The three hour version of this is great drama, and the five hour version is great melodrama? In either film, it’s impossible not to cry when Jacobi stages the Kid Saving Heist, but it’s got a different resonance?

I’m not sure I would recommend the longer version over the shorter unreservedly. The first and last sections — the ones that have the least plot and the most magic — are definitely more better in the longer version: More of a good thing is an even better thing. The three middle sections (which are the shorter sections) don’t really benefit much from having more time. Those sections have a lot of plot that should move snappily, and in the longer version, the plots lack that snap.

So — is the added magic in the first and last sections worth the lack of snappiness in the middle sections? Uhm…

I dunno. It’s a great movie anyway.

Fanny & Alexander. Ingmar Bergman. 1982.

This blog post is part of the Officially The Best 2022 series.

OTB#53: Cléo de 5 a 7

What? This is in colour? But but

*phew* I thought I was watching the wrong movie… I saw this one a few years back, but I’m rewatching it now because Criterion published a fabulous Agnès Varda bluray box set — apparently with all her movies? I’m looking forward to watching them all after I’m done with this Sight & Sound movie thing…

Futura!

This is really nicely restored… it’s still got plenty of film grain, but absolutely all scratches and specks of dust have been removed.

Aaaahhh this is so good. Just the way Varda tipped the camera there from Cléo’s maid who was doing a boring story to this “random” couple… genius.

Of course, it’s hard to separate the charm of looking at Paris (well, I think it’s Paris) in the early 60s from the rest…

And these shots that shouldn’t work — driving the camera right into her face? And then doing a 160 degree? That shouldn’t work, but it just contributes to the giddiness of watching this.

Yes exactly.

There’s not even the slightest attempt at making the Cléo character sympathetic, which is fun.

That’s what I want my bedroom to look like!

I’m calling my interior decorator right now.

Oh, famous people…

I really enjoy this movie, but this section — where she meets a soldier boy destined for Algeria — it loses a lot of its charm. It’s not that it get more didactic than before, but it’s just not a very compelling character.

Eeek

It’s a great movie. If I have one criticism, it’s just that they didn’t do any audio when filming, so sometimes the video/audio connection is a bit vague? I mean, they’ve dubbed it nicely and all, but it sometimes gets a bit distracting — and I don’t think I noticed as much in the DVD edition, so the deficiencies just get clearer with added fidelity. Or something.

Cléo de 5 a 7. Agnès Varda. 1962.

This blog post is part of the Officially The Best 2022 series.

OTB#53: The Piano

I remember I was quite excited to watch this film when it was new. Campion had done two pretty good things before this — Sweetie and An Angel at My Table (which led me to Janet Frame’s novels and poetry, which I liked a lot).

And then I watched this film and I was all… “what the fuck? Oscar bait?”

But perhaps it was all early-20s hipsterishness (“I liked her before she got popular”) thing? So I’m totally open to me being mistaken.

Oh, fuck this. It’s one of those elevator pitch movies? “It’s about a woman who chooses not to speak, but she speaks through her piano” (which probably goes missing in the Jungles of New Zealand; I don’t quite recall).

Odd white balance.

Holly Hunter gives great Oscar face.

Oh man.

Nooo the pianner.

I do appreciate that Campion has given that guy facial tattoos — whenever there’s two male actors of approximately the same build/age/hair colour, I can never keep them apart. So I like characters wearing eye patches or wooden legs, arr.

Well… in my 20s, I thought this movie was total bollocks. I don’t quite dislike it as much now — I’m picking up more of the deliberate oddnesses in the movie, like the shot above… there’s like sequences the I’m not annoyed by? But then the plot starts happening again and I’m bored again.

It’s not as Oscar-baity as I remembered it being — it’s just really odd, and I like that. But we’re almost at the halfway point, so I guess something really dramatic and boring is gonna happen any moment now…

And indeed — once she finally has sex with the tattooed guy the other guy is there to overhear it. Perfect!

The first time around, I also missed how funny some of the scenes are… like when she’s sort of having sex with the guy without tattoos.

It does seem slightly racist, though.

OK, I have to admit it — I was wrong when I saw this back in 1993. It’s not an awful movie — it’s a pretty interesting one.

As Oscar bait movies go.

The Piano. Jane Campion. 1993.

This blog post is part of the Officially The Best 2022 series.

Mr. Thomas Woodruff’s Francis Rothbart!: Not Really a Review

I was idly browsing twitter when I saw the news that Thomas Woodruff’s comic book had been nominated for four (!) Eisner awards, and my first thought was “man, the public relations dept at Fantagraphics have really done their jobs here” — presumably by sending copies of the book to all the Eisner judges, but I see now that that wouldn’t be that expensive:

The 2023 Eisner Awards judging panel consists of librarian Moni Barrette, educator/collector Peter Jones, retailer Jen King, journalist Sean Kleefeld, scholar/comics creator A. David Lewis, and comics instructor/curator TJ Shevlin.

Because the book is not very good. I mean, it’s kinda awful. I guess you could make a case for “it’s so transgressive, dude”, but it’s really just shitty and a waste of time. My main reaction when I read it was “dude, are you OK?”

Which made me read some of the reactions to the announcement… and boy, some of Woodruff’s previous students at the SVA piped up:

As much as I dislike the book, I don’t want to contribute to the intense pileon. But as it turns out, there are no reviews of the book out there on the interwebs. Not even on Goodreads.

So perhaps I’m the only person in the world who was stupid enough to buy a copy? Or willing to admit to it? Because I can definitely see the latter, because the book is… a lot.

Since nobody’s who’s dumping on the book have actually read it, I’m stepping up to do a slightly more detailed non-review of the book, addressing some of the stuff people seem to be… wondering about.

Is the book racist? Well, the book is made by a white man about a boy who’s drawn like he’s from Latin America, but the name “Rothbart” doesn’t sound Latinx.

The boy’s parents are presented this way — looks like the father might be from India? They’re “not well known in the city”, so they’re not from around here, at least. The son is described as “their fair dark heir”.

Perhaps this is all part of the general edgelordiness of the project: When people complain about Woodruff using obvious Native American/Mexican imagery in the book, he can go “but he’s Indian! Huh huh huh. See what I did there?”

One of the four Eisner nominations is for “best lettering”, and I wonder whether the judges just opened the book and went “hey! not computer lettering! let’s nominate it!”, because the lettering is pretty shit. Although my annoyance at the lettering might be due to the prose being this horrendous throughout. (The “poetry” that infests much of the book is even worse — it’s doggerel that seems like it must be a parody of something, but apparently isn’t. It’s got rhyming couplets like “dude perverse / the universe” that just makes you want to scratch your eyes out.)

The book is about this boy being raised by all the wild animals in the desert — yes, that basic, trite fable.

Besides the racism charge, many people on Twitter see that this is a book about a naked boy and then go “er… what…” But as they haven’t read it, they don’t know how bad it gets. In one “comedic” sequence, the boy is being suckled by various animals…

… and on the next page, one of the animals is a male fox (complete with ejaculation). (Not including shots of that because of obvious reasons). Further on in the book we get a couple of very graphic masturbation scenes.

Which gives this book a perfect 10 rating on the “Books You Shouldn’t Leave Lying Around In Case Somebody Else Happens Onto It And Calls The Cops” scale.

(Fantagraphics publishes another edgelord book called Red Room that (falsely) touts itself as being “banned in 34 countries”, but this is a book that probably would be if anybody in those 34 countries took a look at it. You’ve been out-edged, Red Room guy!)

The other descriptions I’ve seen of the book understandably tip-toe around the contents of the book — using slightly vague descriptions like “eroticized child-animal encounters” — because giving more a more straight-forward account of the book seems like prissy pearl-clutching, right? But I just want to be clear here.

Some twitter people think that the book shouldn’t be on the Eisners list at all because it’s more of an illustrated text, but… it’s pretty comic book-like here and there.

Oh, I see that I’ve forgotten to say what this book is about.

Right, a boy is brought up by wild animals in the desert, and has some kind of telepathic connection to the animals (i.e., he controls them (it’s a super-hero comic book!)). As he grows up, he encounters people from the neighbouring city (apparently populated by white people only), and starts putting up “shows” — tableaux, really. He eventually grows frustrated and mad, and starts torturing the animals.

The book ends with a long sequence of drawings of horribly mutilated animals arranged “artistically”. This is from the start of the sequence, where things aren’t that horrible, but I’m not snapping any of the more atrocious bits that follow. Sorry!

And that’s it. It’s a tedious and ugly book.

One of the four nominations is for “Best Painter/Multimedia Artist” — and as you can see from the preceding snaps, the book is mostly drawn, not painted.

But there are some paintings included in the book.

The third nomination is for “Best Publication Design”, and I don’t know what the judges are on about. It’s a big book, but there’s nothing much about the design — it’s pedestrian, from the circus-referencing fonts on the cover, to, well… ok, well, I give up — there’s nothing else worth mentioning.

But it’s a big, heavy book. Perhaps size has a quality all of its own?

I wonder how the Eisner process works — did all the judges actually look at this book, and none of them went “nuh-uh — over my dead body”? I find that hard to believe, frankly, so perhaps that’s not how it works.

I’ve now done my civic duty, and you can go back to your regularly scheduled Woodruff hating session:

Nice burn.

Heh heh.

Oh my GOD. That’s the harshest insult yet.

Although some of these stories make him seem kinda fun, to be honest.

And a lot of the pile-on seems to be because Woodruff isn’t on Team Comics Rah-Rah-Rah? Which is pretty disgusting.

Anyway!

[Edit some hours later]

Now there’s apparently a petition to get this book off of the Eisner list? Uhm uhm I’m against that. I think the Eisner people should do what they want — it’s not like I think that prize is an arbiter of anything much; the books that usually win aren’t books that I’m very interested in, usually.

(That said, A Frog in the Fall (and later on) should win Best Design definitely. OK, OK, I’m inconsistent.)

[Edit some days later]

I just discovered this article, where Mr. Woodruff explains a lot about the book in refreshingly straightforward ways. For instance, the name of the boy is a reference to St. Francis (who talked to the animals) and Rothbart is the sorcerer from Swan Lake (who controls the swans). The boy’s appearance is based on Sabu Dastagir, who starred in a version of The Jungle Book, among other things. It’s an interesting interview, really.

[Edit Jul 12]

I just happened onto the Goodreads page again, and:

Wow! 14 reviews!

Let’s see…

Wow! So many people read this book on June 3rd and decided to post their only reviews, ever. And all five stars. What an amazing coincidence.

Stefano’s two days late, though.

And Andy’s two days later, even, but put in way more effort.

I’m sure all these accounts are real.

But somebody linked a longer youtube review from Goodreads:

the book so bad it might actually be illegal: Francis Rothbart exclamation point

Plot spoiler: She didn’t like it.