DiscLand

Branded to Kill (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 12.13.2011)

A film doesn’t have to make complete sense to be engrossing. Visual style and a striking central performance carry Seijun Suzuki’s Branded to Kill despite the director’s pronounced indifference to clarity. Hanada (Joe Shishido) is Japan’s third-ranked hit man and not a bit happy about it. (Suzuki never explains who compiles such rankings.) In fact, he doesn't even believe that the number-one assassin exists. The film follows Hanada through several hits, leading to the inevitable showdown with his nemesis (Koji Nanbara). Along the way, he indulges in S&M with his wife (Mariko Ogawa) and meets a strange, mysterious young woman (Annu Mari).

The Lady Vanishes (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 12.6.2011)

Alfred Hitchcock’s final British masterpiece, The Lady Vanishes is one of the legendary filmmaker's most entertaining films, and a template for several of his later films, most notably North by Northwest. All the elements of classic Hitchcock are here in abundance: suspense, romance, comedy, irony and sexual innuendo. When the English governess Miss Froy (Dame May Whitty) disappears on a train somewhere in central Europe, no one on board will confirm that she even exists, despite the protestations of our heroine, Iris (Margaret Lockwood). Even when the handsome hero (Michael Redgrave) tries to help, obstacles keep blocking their path to the truth.

Design for Living (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 12.6.2011)

Design for Living is not one of Ernst Lubitsch’s masterpieces, but this 1933 film is thoroughly entertaining and provides a wonderful example of the sexual content Hollywood could get away with before the advent of the Production Code. Beyond the title and the basic premise, the film has little to do with Noël Coward’s 1932 play. Gilda (Miriam Hopkins), a commercial artist working for an advertising agency in Paris, meets George (Gary Cooper) and Tom (Frederic March) -- a painter and a playwright respectively -- and falls almost immediately in love with both, while fending-off the advances of her stuffy boss (Edward Everett Horton). Some rash decisions are made, leading to misery for all concerned -- until an unconventionally happy fade-out.

The Rules of the Game (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 11.15.2011)

Jean Renoir’s The Rules of the Game has had one of the most complicated histories of any famous film. Condemned by French critics and audiences after its 1939 premiere and shortened by thirteen minutes a few days later, the film was finally restored -- with an additional twelve minutes -- in 1959. Since this restoration was hampered by the destruction of the original negative during World War II, The Rules of the Game has never looked quite as good as it should. The Criterion Blu-ray edition is grainy at times, with a few scratches here and there, but Renoir’s use of deep focus has never been so clear. As the overwhelming number of extras on this disc explain, Renoir wanted to comment subtly on the rapidly approaching war through what appears to be an extramarital farce.

Rushmore (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 11.22.2011)

While some consider Wes Anderson’s films a tad precious and insular, few can dispute the charm of Rushmore. Released in 1998, the writer-director’s second film is one of the best ever about the pains of growing up, anguish which seems amusing only in retrospect. The life of fifteen-year-old Max Fischer (Jason Schwartzman) is idyllic because of his involvement in a slew of extracurricular activities, notably the Max Fischer Players, a theatre group that stages flamboyant productions of films such as Serpico. Things become more complicated when Max finds himself vying -- along with millionaire Herman Blume (Bill Murray) and a doctor (Luke Wilson) -- for the affections of widowed teacher Rosemary Cross (Olivia Williams). One of the film’s many highlights comes when Herman, overcome by his burgeoning love while delivering a message from Max, sprints away from Miss Cross like a cartoon character.

Les cousins (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 9.20.2011)

Claude Chabrol's 1959 follow-up to Le beau Serge shows the director becoming more sure of himself and inching toward the crime cinema that would dominate his later career. Les cousins has the same stars as its predecessor, but this time they reverse their roles. Charles (Gérard Blain) is an innocent from the provinces, who comes to Paris to study law. While there, he stays with his decadent cousin Paul (Jean-Claude Brialy) -- also a law student -- in their uncle's apartment. Instead of studying, Paul stages an endless series of parties, while Charles struggles to avoid temptation. This becomes impossible when he meets Florence (Juliette Mayniel), who proves unworthy of his love.

Le beau Serge (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 9.20.2011)

Claude Chabrol's 1958 debut is often called the first French New Wave film, primarily because the director was previously a critic for Cahiers du cinéma, along with future nouvelle vague luminaries Jean-Luc Godard, Jacques Rivette, Eric Rohmer and François Truffaut. However, Le beau Serge is more traditional than the early efforts by these filmmakers. François (Jean-Claude Brialy) returns to the village of Sardent after a long absence and is shocked to see how much his friend Serge (Gérard Blain) has declined, falling far short of his ambitions and weighed-down by his marriage to Yvonne (Michèle Méritz). Between confrontations with Serge and the local priest (Claude Cerval), François has a brief affair with Serge's teenaged sister-in-law (Bernadette Lafont, then married to Blain).

The Killing (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 8.16.2011)

Before he established himself as a genius with Paths of Glory, Stanley Kubrick made three low-budget films (Fear and Desire, Killer's Kiss, The Killing) and this is easily the best: tightly constructed, with fully developed characters, quotable dialogue and beautiful black-and-white cinematography by Lucien Ballard. Visually, this is one of the most striking examples of fifties noir -- Ballard gets startling effects from lamps and bare blubs -- but Harris claims that the cinematographer hated the director. Many of the images resemble the photographs of Kubrick and they have a beautiful clarity in this new HD transfer.

High and Low (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 7.26.2011)

In several recent reviews (Diabolique, Life During Wartime), I've become preoccupied with the effect of repeat viewings. High and Low is another intriguing case study, as its exhausting suspense is largely dissipated on a second viewing. When I first saw this film years ago, I was convinced that it might be Kurosawa's best (to be honest, I've had this reaction to several Kurosawa films), but when you watch High and Low with an awareness of its outcome, its greatest virtue (suspense) is lost. To be clear, I don't think this is a weakness, just an unfortunate fact for those of us hoping to re-live that amazing first viewing. If you're gearing-up to see this incredible film for the first time, consider yourself lucky.

Life During Wartime (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 7.26.2011)

When I saw Life During Wartime at TIFF in 2009, I had several major problems with the film. While Todd Solondz's collaboration with cinematographer Ed Lachman yields the most refined visuals of his career, there were four glaring problems: 1) the characters seem like pale imitations of their more striking Happiness incarnations, 2) there's a complete lack of tension in the film's muddled, rambling narrative, 3) it's far too talky and 4) Solondz can't stop himself from ridiculing his characters. While I stand by the first three criticisms, I can now retract the fourth. As Solondz points out (in a 45-minute, audio-only Q&A on this disc), his audience tends to be divided between those who laugh at the characters and those who get mad at those who laugh at the characters. I've never really been in either camp, but the mean-spirited laughter in the Life During Wartime screening I attended turned me (somewhat unjustifiably) against Solondz. Re-watching the film alone in my living room, a surprising empathy emerged, no longer concealed by the condescension of an audience.

Léon Morin, Priest (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 7.26.2011)

Jean-Pierre Melville has been acclaimed for cool, existential thrillers, but Léon Morin, Priest is something of a surprise since it's a psychological study of two non-criminals. Since Melville was a Jewish atheist, his sympathetic portrayal of a Catholic priest is also unusual. Adapted by Melville from Barny -- a 1948 semi-autobiographical novel by Béatrix Beck -- this 1961 film occurs during the German occupation of France and centers around Barny (Emmanuelle Riva), who works in an office in a small village. A widow with a small daughter whose father was Jewish, she launches an initially antagonistic relationship with Leon Morin (Jean-Paul Belmondo), only to find herself falling for this priest.

Black Moon (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 6.28.2011)

Criterion has been unusually generous to Louis Malle fans in recent years, releasing no fewer than sixteen of the underrated auteur's films on DVD and/or Blu-ray since 2006. This thoroughness has resulted in the long overdue reconsideration of some incredible, largely forgotten films (The Fire Within, Zazie dans le métro), but it has also resulted in the reconsideration of some lesser efforts. Black Moon is to Malle what a film like Quintet is to Robert Altman: an original, audacious, yet not entirely successful experiment from a great filmmaker in unfamiliar territory.

Zazie dans le métro (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 6.28.2011)

Of Louis Malle’s early films, Zazie dans le métro is the most emblematic of the French New Wave and arguably the director's most influential film. Released in 1960, Malle’s third film constantly calls attention to its technique, even having a character ponder the film's place in the New Wave at one point. Based upon veteran surrealist Raymond Queneau’s 1959 novel, Zazie dans le métro follows ten-year-old Zazie (Catherine Demongeot) during a visit to Paris. While her mother (Odette Piquet) is busy cavorting with her latest boyfriend, Zazie stays with her female impersonator uncle Gabriel (Philippe Noiret). Zazie is opinionated and foul-mouthed, qualities which reportedly led angry French parents, expecting to see a children’s film, to drag their tykes from theatres. Zazie causes chaos throughout, ranging from a massive traffic jam to a lengthy slapstick fight in a restaurant.

Diabolique (1955) (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 5.17.2011)

Pauline Kael once famously said that she rarely watched any film more than once. Diabolique makes an interesting case for both the strengths and weaknesses of this approach. When I first saw Henri-George Clouzot's celebrated and influential thriller, I was extremely impressed by the metaphysical mystery at the film's core (a dead man's body disappears in a way that suggests he may have come back to life to haunt the women who murdered him). However, the film's twist ending left me disappointed, not because it's predictable or unconvincing, but because it reduces the film's suggestive enigma to a literal-minded trick. Watching the film a second time with full knowledge of this twist has an effect that is both enriching (the complexity of the film's narrative strategies is exposed) and diminishing (the film's haunting metaphysical elements are drained of their evocative power).

Pale Flower (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 5.17.2011)

Pale Flower is an exceedingly stylish Japanese gangster film, but it would be misleading to leave it at that. Fans of American crime cinema are accustomed to stylization that invites the audience in -- with humor, surprise and narrative coherence. Pale Flower offers a far more difficult, enigmatic form of stylization, asking more questions than it answers and leaving the film's moody protagonists distant and opaque (rarely have actors brooded so elegantly onscreen). But even if we never truly understand what these characters are thinking, we're given intriguing clues throughout, delivered via one triumphant feat of mise-en-scene after another. Balancing aspects of sixties Seijun Suzuki and Akira Kurosawa, director Masahiro Shinoda (Double Suicide) finds a distinctive blend of hip, modern genre cinema and uncompromising, elliptical art cinema. The result is an enduring work that, nearly five decades after its original release, continues to resist easy categorization.

Smiles of a Summer Night (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 5.3.2011)

Smiles of a Summer Night is always cited as Ingmar Bergman’s first international success, but before this 1955 film, his efforts were not too popular in Sweden either. Who would have expected Bergman -- creator of such downbeat films as Sawdust and Tinsel -- to make a comedy, much less a completely charming one? Set at the turn of the century, Smiles of a Summer Night focuses on the overlapping romances of smug, middle-aged lawyer Fredrik Egerman (Gunnar Bjornstrand), his much younger wife Anne (Ulla Jacobsson), his clergyman son Henrik (Bjorn Bjelfvenstam), the famous actress (and his former mistress) Desiree Armfeldt (Eva Dahlbeck), Desiree’s current lover Count Carl Magnus Malcolm (Jarl Kulle), his jealous wife Charlotte (Margit Carlqvist) and lusty maid Petra (Harriet Andersson). Most of the characters may be in love with two of the others, leading to misunderstandings stopping just short of farce, as they slowly evolve from stereotypes to complex figures.

Blow Out (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 4.26.2011)

Unlike the filmmakers he associated with in the seventies (Spielberg, Lucas, Scorsese, Coppola), Brian De Palma never really made the kind of prestige pictures that earn Oscar nominations. In fact, he's been nominated for five Razzies. Of course, that's not the whole story. At least two of the films he earned Razzie nominations for (Dressed to Kill, Scarface) are now regarded as borderline classics. The problem has never been De Palma's skill as a filmmaker -- most seem to agree that he's one of the premiere stylists working today -- but he's always preferred disreputable genres, as they provide maximum room for visual invention. He inherited this preference from Hitchcock and has passed it on to Quentin Tarantino, but whereas those filmmakers earned awards and respect, De Palma has always remained a guilty pleasure. At their core, Hitchcock and Tarantino are crowd pleasers, but De Palma would much rather antagonize his audience. Nowhere is this more evident than Blow Out, his unforgettably dark fusion of Hitchcock, Pakula and Antonioni.

Sweetie (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 4.19.2011)

Through the ups and down of twenty-plus years directing features, Jane Campion has maintained an impressively personal sensibility, avoiding mainstream opportunities in favour of artful classicism (The Portrait of a Lady, Bright Star) and eccentric, even radical genre films (Holy Smoke, In the Cut). But nowhere is her individualism more apparent than in her enigmatic, hyper-stylized feature debut (prior to this, she made two TV movies and several shorts). The world of Sweetie is more ordinary than any of the worlds Campion went on to explore later in her career, but the film's most quotidian elements liberate her to take risks elsewhere, particularly in terms of character, tone and style. The result is arguably the best film of her varied and provocative career.

Fat Girl (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 5.3.2011)

Catherine Breillat is known first and foremost as a provocateur, so it makes sense that her best known and most celebrated film is also one of her most controversial. Unfortunately, Fat Girl lacks the visual precision and nuanced characterizations that distinguish the real highlights of Breillat's filmography (ie. Sex Is Comedy, The Last Mistress) from her more straightforward exercises in envelope-pushing. Crude as it may be, Fat Girl tackles big, universal themes (gender, beauty, family) in an uncompromising fashion, causing some viewers to mistake its nihilism for depth. If Breillat were a bit more interested in people and bit less interested in gender stereotypes (both male and female), she might have made a film that actually warrants the Criterion treatment.

Army of Shadows (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 1.11.2011)

Although it didn't get an official American release until 2006 (thirty-seven years late), Army of Shadows was quickly embraced as one of the defining works of Jean-Pierre Melville's storied career, alongside certified classics like Bob le Flambeur, Le Samouraï and Le Cercle Rouge. A reserved, carefully controlled drama chronicling the efforts of the French Resistance in German-occupied France, Shadows aims for far more mysterious terrain than its genre orientation might imply. Drenched in suggestive dread, this quietly unsettling film owes much of its impact to the angst of its brooding protagonists. Melville roots the French Resistance in the philosophical ideas of Camus and Sartre, the influential French existentialists who established their reputations in the time and place depicted onscreen. Bypassing conventional notions of pro-war and anti-war, Melville arrives at a more unsettling worldview, one that could almost be described as post-life.

Cronos (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 12.7.2010)

Cronos is fascinating as both an unusually original take on the vampire film and as a gateway to the themes and style of Guillermo del Toro. Released in 1993, del Toro’s debut already displays his ability to find offbeat humor and emotional resonance within genre conventions. It tells the story of elderly Mexican antiques dealer Jesus Gris (Federico Luppi), who discovers a small clockwork mechanism within a statue of an archangel. After he is wounded by the device, Gris begins noticing changes in his appearance and longings. Meanwhile, Dieter de la Guardia (Claudio Brook), a wealthy industrialist dying of cancer, learns that Gris has the mechanism he has spent years searching for and sends his thuggish American nephew -- the ironically named Angel (Ron Perlman) -- after it. As a consequence of this, considerable blood flows.

Charade (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 9.21.2010)

Stanley Donen: “Oh, it’s a Universal picture. I’ll bet it’s Charade. I’m Stanley Donen. I produced and directed this picture. I hope you forgive me.”
Peter Stone: “I’m Peter Stone. I wrote it and you don’t have to forgive me. I’m pleased as punch.”

Thus begins the commentary by the director and screenwriter behind Charade -- and Stone gets it right. Charade is a nearly perfect entertainment, arguably the best Hitchcock imitation ever committed to film and one of the last true movie star pictures before the studio system bit the dust. I’ve seen it at least twenty-five times since its 1963 release and I never grow tired of its considerable charms.

The Leopard (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 6.29.2010)

Luchino Visconti's The Leopard has had a troubled history in the North American market. Twentieth Century Fox acquired the 1963 film, but had no faith that audiences could sit through a slow-moving, 185-minute, subtitled historical drama, even with Burt Lancaster as its star. With that concern in mind, they trimmed the film to 161 minutes and dubbed it into English. This dubbed version once showed up regularly on television, offering increasingly dark, fuzzy and finally unwatchable images. Although Visconti's version has previously been available on DVD, only this Criterion Blu-ray allows the film to be seen as it should.

Everlasting Moments (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 6.29.2010)

Crafted with an almost fetishistic love of cameras and photography, Jan Troell's Everlasting Moments is a tribute to the liberating powers of visual art. By filtering real people and events through his own set of photographic tools (Troell serves as both director and cinematographer on the film, sharing responsibility for the latter with Mischa Gavrjusjov), the veteran Swedish filmmaker crafts an intriguing exploration of photography and its conflicted relationship to truth. His starting point in the making of this film was the real life photography of the film's protagonist, Maria Larsson. While her photos provide glimpses of poignant truth, they also mask many of the dark undercurrents that coursed through her life. This is where Troell's other source -- the recollections of Maria's children -- comes into play. The tension between her images and the cruel realities her children report makes for a fascinating study of photography as both a recording of life and an escape from it. To make matters more intriguing, Troell's camera also takes an active role in re-shaping the history of Larsson's life and photography.

Summer Hours (Blu-ray)

(The Criterion Collection, 4.20.2010)

Celebrated French auteur Olivier Assayas is a hard filmmaker to pin-down. On one hand, he is well-known for making cold, arty films that draw heavily on the Situationist theories of Guy Debord, but he is also capable of making classicist works of French humanism in the tradition of Jean Renoir (ie. Les destinées sentimentales, Late August, Early September). Coming off the Debord-leaning, globalization-themed trilogy of demonlover, Clean and Boarding Gate, Summer Hours is a stunning return to Assayas' warmer tendencies, both heartfelt and unsentimental. The range of these works is impressive, as is the ambitious new direction Assayas revealed earlier this month when his six-hour portrait of Carlos the Jackal premiered at the Cannes Film Festival. Whatever his subject, Assayas has an intelligence and sensitivity that few filmmakers can match.