Edmund

Bobby

#504. Hunger. Directed by Steve McQueen (most definitely not the Steve McQueen!). United Kingdom and Ireland, 2008. 2:35:1. Color. 96 minutes. English.

I try to avoid films about the IRA simply because I’m not familiar with and I do not understand Irish political history. This disc has no captions for the hearing impaired—and it was very much needed, because I find Irishisms very difficult to understand. Indeed, this is a film that’s very difficult to watch. Do not watch it after you’ve just eaten, while you’re eating or before you eat. It is not for the weak of gut—really and seriously. And it is very, very overindulgent at times. The dragging exchange between Bobby Sands and the priest is endless (the profanities didn’t make it interesting), and there’s a scene where the floor was mopped ever so slowly from one end of the hall to the other.

I want my 96 minutes and $32.77 back!

Whatever Lola wants . . . (2)

#503. Lola Montès. Directed by Max Ophüls. France and West Germany, 1955. 2:55:1. Color. 110 minutes. French, English and German.

Criterion granted my wish. Read my previous post about Lola Montès here.

There is no such thing as revenge

#502. Revanche. Directed by Götz Spielmann. Austria, 2008. 1:85:1. Color. 122 minutes. German.

This is one of the best, the most beautiful and saddest films I’ve ever seen in years. It has left me speechless.

If you can’t sleep, watch . . .

#501. Paris, Texas. Directed by Wim Wenders. Germany, France and the United States, 1984. 1:66:1. Color. 147 minutes. English.

I first saw this back in High School. E_____ and I walked out during the part where Travis had polished the shoes. I tried to see it again, thinking that my tastes have matured and that my pre-conceived notions about the film might change. This time, however, I walked out much earlier—during the part where Walt received the news that Travis was found.

I just hope Criterion doesn’t release anything by Wim Wenders anymore.

¡Viva la Revolución!

#496. Che. Directed by Steven Soderbergh. United States and France, 2008. 1:78:1. Color/Black and White. 261 minutes. Spanish.

I’ll watch this next week—if and when I have the time, and if and when I’m back to my proper revolutionary/rebellious self. I’m too busy and quite melodramatic these days.

I’m going to find this hard to watch. First, I’m not a huge fan of Che Guevara and what he stood for. Second, I read/heard that this film portrays Che in a more realistic light. I’ve been so used to seeing the idealized and mythologized Che—as portrayed by better-looking actors such as Gael García Bernal (who played Che twice) and David Essex and Mandy Patinkin (from the original London and Broadway versions of Evita respectively). A smart-ass Theology classmate of mine once remarked that Benicio Del Toro (who plays Che in this film) looks like Philippine Senator Aquilino Pimentel. The remark never left my head.

10! Federico Fellini’s 8½ is now also on Criterion Blu-ray (#140). This was where they based that recent box-office disaster 9. The musical remake was a bad idea—some things are best left not “updated.” Anyhoo, 8½ is one of my least-favorite Fellinis. I hope it’s just my player (again)—my disc doesn’t have sound.

When will La strada and Amarcord be ever released in hi-def?

I saw this with eyes covered

#493. Gomorrah (Gomorra). Directed by Matteo Garrone. Italy, 2008. 2:35:1. Color. 137 minutes. Italian.

The title has nothing to do with Sodom’s equally-notorious sister city—the film is about the Camorra, a mafia-like organization in Naples. Based on the book by Italian journalist Roberto Saviano, Gomorrah is composed of five unrelated stories of people whose lives have been affected by organized crime. The film is not for the weak of heart. Its realistic, gritty violence will often take the viewer by surprise. Beware of the opening scene at the tanning salon. Beware of the scene in the car where Pasquale the tailor and the Chinaman were talking about Tai Chi. It was so difficult to watch, but I kind of like the film’s ending(s). Each story has a resolution. But what kind of catharsis should one expect after tragedy has marked your soul? Better yet, is there any catharsis for the dead?

A Christmas tale

#492. A Christmas Tale (Un conte de Noël). Directed by Arnaud Desplechin. France, 2008. 2:35:1. Color. 152 minutes. French.

It’s almost Christmas, and a mother (played by the ever-beautiful Catherine Deneuve) needs a bone marrow transplant from a blood relative. The film has all the elements of high drama: a Christmastime setting, a sick mother, cancer. But these elements were not properly used and thus the opportunity for high drama was lost. But then again it’s just me—I kept reminding myself that this is a 2008 French film, not a René Clément tearjerker from the ’50s. It’s not a Mexican telenovela or a Filipino teleserye. So it really doesn’t have to be about the ailing mother. Or about Christmas and its “meaning.” The film seems to be more concerned about the unexplained and never-ending rift between the mother’s son and daughter. In any case, this is not a film one should watch along with It’s a Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve.

Uncle Ebenezer speaks. I hate Christmas and (generally) Christmas-themed movies. Seeing A Christmas Tale for the very first time reminded me of one or two of the 100,000 reasons why people like me do not like Christmas. Bad things often happen during this particular season, and we must cope with our personal tribulations and tragedies—by ourselves—in the midst of a “happy” holiday where everyone is “expected” to be happy. Also, it becomes sadder when Jesus—whom people use as the pointless excuse to make their drunken and gluttonous revelries valid—is not present in our lives (if we profess ourselves as Christians, that is). Oftentimes too, our Christmas-related celebrations bring out the worst in every one of us—note the things that took place and the things that were said in the film during Christmas Eve. Urgh . . .

Angels, they hear us on high

#490. Wings of Desire (Der Himmel über Berlin). Directed by Wim Wenders. Germany, 1987. 1:66:1. Black and White/Color. 127 minutes. German, English and French.

I never really liked this film. It’s beautiful to look at indeed, but I’ve always found it pretentious and self-indulgent. Not to mention slow and boring—it took forever to make its point. The presence of Columbo (Peter Falk as himself, in a “special” role) also ruined the rather somber vibe of the film for me. I hate to say this, but I think its Hollywood version, 1998’s City of Angels (with Nicolas Cage and Meg Ryan), is much better: it has a more solid plot, good-looking leads and great music (i.e., Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls and Uninvited by Alanis Morissette).

The film is about angels. The angel Damiel gives up his immortality for the love of a woman. However, I don’t think God is mentioned a lot in the many philosophical and poetic ruminations of the cast. But I do find the one time He is mentioned (in the library scene) very, very powerful. Someone was reading the Torah: Bereshit bara ’Elohim et ha shamayim va et ha ’eretz . . . You will know that you don’t possess a soul when you hear the Holy Scriptures in the original Hebrew and your hairs fail to rise.

Poetic justice

#488. Howards End. Directed by James Ivory. United Kingdom, 1992. 2:35:1. Color. 142 minutes. English.

There’s no such thing as a perfect film but, to my mind, Howards End is a near-perfect movie. What else could one ask for? (1) The story is by E.M Forster—an endearing affirmation of that stubborn human insistence that good will always triumph in the end. Not to mention that the movie is a faithful adaptation. (2) It’s a Merchant-Ivory production—those low-budget but amazingly glossy and beautiful œuvres set in the Edwardian era. (3) The cast is well-assembled: Vanessa Redgrave, Emma Thompson, Prunella Scales, Helena Bonham Carter and Anthony Hopkins. The pre-Fight Club Helena Bonham Carter, a Merchant-Ivory regular, is always a pleasure to look at—she seemed to have stepped out of a Daniel Gabriel Rossetti painting.

Far out! I must mention that the Maysles Brothers’ rockumentary on the Rolling Stones, Gimme Shelter (#99 in the Criterion Collection), is now also on Blu-ray hi-def. It’s simply one of the best documentaries around. Check it out for Mick Jagger’s outrageous outfits and performances. (We now often think of the Rolling Stones as musical fossils, but there was indeed a time when they were really, really great—they still are!) Check it out to catch a glimpse of the great year that was 1969. The documentary also features cameos by Tina Turner and Grace Slick, two of rock’s shameless and awe-inspiring goddesses. Remember when Tina Turner and Mick Jagger electrified the stage with their rendition of State of Shock during 1985’s Live Aid?

Tribute. There’s a nice tribute to Tatsuya Nakadai (one of my favorite Japanese actors—next to Toshiro Mifune, of course) in the Criterion website. Read it here.

Oh, well . . .

#489. Monsoon Wedding and Seven Short Films. Directed by Mira Nair. India, 2001. 1:85:1.Color. 105 minutes. Hindi, Punjabi and English.

I bought this only to complete my Criterion collection, and I’m not even going to watch it. I don’t like Bollywood films. (There —I said it.) I really don’t understand why this had to be included in the Criterion canon—and why it was even given the Blu-ray treatment.