Of Time and the City

Cecil says: This was billed as a portrayal of Liverpool on film through the ages, with a personal commentary from Terence Davies. I was thoroughly disappointed.

First the film footage: you'd have to know some of the back-streets of Liverpool pretty well (before they were pulled down) to actually recognise this as being a film about Liverpool, rather than any other northern city; OK Liverpool Catholic cathedral is pretty iconic, but for the rest, I didn't really get any feel from the film footage of the city we were supposed to be viewing. Being from the other great port across the Pennines, I kept thinking: this could just as easily be a film about Hull - why couldn't we have had lots more people being interviewed or extracts from people's conversations? Then, we might have got more of a feel of the unique place we all know Liverpool is.

Then there's the Terence Davies monologue. Dear oh deary-me. This felt more like social egotism than social realism. After a while, his suppressed anger just seeps through in every sentence he utters. OK, it must have been tough to be gay and Catholic and cultured in a rough, tough working class town, but I'm sorry Terence, I resented paying my £10 to sit through your ramblings, which said everything about you and very little about Liverpool.

I know it was Terence Davies's film, so he can choose to do with it what he wants, but there are soooooo many more interesting characters from Liverpool who could have provided us with insights and historical anecdotes about the place, which could so easily have matched the footage he had chosen. No, really, a waste of time and money

*

Bea says: We saw this after Hunger (see previous post), so in a way I found it soothing to have the images, music and sounds of this - film? documentary? montage? wash over me. I was however, like Cecil, disappointed. It was clearly a personal representation of what Liverpool means to Terence Davies. Unfortunately, if you're not Terence Davies, it's unlikely to speak to you and it didn't really to me. I kind of felt it missed a trick; liberal use was made of the romantic poets and classical music - but when the film really worked the music and the spoken word behind the images were about the city itself - "Dirty Old Town", and the narrative of a 14 year old left to take sole charge of her younger siblings in the 1930s. I appreciate that Davies may have wanted to leave behind the working class image Liverpool has, but isn't that its reality to some degree (and I speak as the granddaughter of Liverpudlians). I did enjoy the images - the glamorous 1950s cinema opening nights, the holidays on the shore, and the footage of the cathedral (for which my grandfather did the electrics), but probably because this is the Liverpool I know from stories told to me when I was young.
* 1/2

Hunger

Bea says: Although this film was on our list, Cecil and I ended up seeing it off the cuff, as the session time for a different film we had planned to see had changed. The film is a deeply, deeply disturbing portrayal of the regime of the Maze prison in Northern Ireland in 1981, and recounts the hunger strike of Bobby Sands in that prison. I was prepared for the images of the hunger strike - what I wasn't prepared for was the sheer brutality of life in the Maze prison. It was at times unbearable to watch, and I am neither particularly squeamish or naive. It was however an extremely compelling film - possibly in part because I was a still a child at the time the events took place, although I remember Bobby Sands' name well from hearing it on the 6 o clock news, and the film filled in some detail for me, although perhaps detail I would rather not have known. I came away feeling shellshocked and traumatised (and that was just watching the events, not living them - how people, and those close to them, survived it I cannot imagine). The horrific events have stayed with me, as have the interspersed speeches of Thatcher from the era, and a sense of despair at what humans are capable of.
***

Cecil says: I am kind of glad my work trip to Belfast was a few days BEFORE I saw this film rather than after. As it is, it's very hard not to make some sort of mistake in apparently favouring one side of the sectarian divide rather than the other as soon as you do anything organised in Northern Ireland. But, if I had gone there with this film still clouding my vision, I don't think I could have chatted to the taxi driver, or the librarian or the hotel manager without wondering what they were doing during the worst of the Troubles.

What this film did for me was to transport me back to those horrible days of the early 1980s. The music may have been great then but the politics of the UK was descending into the nasty, divisive state epitomised by events in Northern Ireland. The thing I disliked most about what Thatcher did for me was the way she instilled such deep hatred in me - I have never before or after felt that constant anger and hatred I lived with throughout her time in power; she managed to divide this country into the minority who loved her and constantly voted her back in, and the - sadly smaller - minority who hated her with as much passion as I did.

And this film somehow epitomised the divided society we lived in then. In the rest of the UK, the divide was political; in Northern Ireland it was sectarian, but the emotions felt the same, watching this film.

I don't know how accurate the portrayal of events in Hunger is (I tried afterwards to find blogs by Unionists who may have had a different take on events, but didn't really find any); but in a sense, it doesn't matter how true to reality they were, because what the film did succeed in doing was to depict that divided society and the hostility that was felt across that divide.

By the way: we actually went to this film because we were intrigued that Steve McQueen had turned his Hollywood dollars to a film about the IRA. I got home and tried to find out more about when McQueen might have become interested in Northern Irish politics only to remember that the Hollywood great died in 1980 (before this film's events even took place) and this particular Steve McQueen was making his film debut with Hunger. I'm not sure I'm desperate to see his 2nd film...

**

W.

Bea says: I really, really like Oliver Stone, so I knew even before I went in that I would like this. And I did. With a light touch and Stone's impeccable attention to detail, the film tells the story behind the man who until very recently has held one of the highest offices in the world via the docudrama format. Oddly, when his rise to presidency is considered, W. comes across as a failure. Perhaps there's nothing odd about that really - he has been spoofed and mocked so often I haven't been able to take him seriously for years - but somehow the film managed to remind me what a powerful position he has been in, arguably the most powerful, and yet he remains a failure. And that's kind of the key to the film; casting my mind way, way back to A levels the word "pathos" comes to mind, although it perhaps too strong a word... W. is almost likeable, and much more understandable after watching this, and although Stone does not spare him he doesn't go in for the kill either.

The actor playing W. is just a little too attractive (being attracted to W. felt strangely disturbing!) to be quite believable, although this is possibly on purpose. Thandie Newton does an interesting turn as Condaleeza Rice, who unlike W. is spared nothing and comes off very badly in the film. Intelligent librarian Laura Bush is the most interesting character portrayed - I just kept thinking "why"?

A must see.

****1/2

Cecil says: What is it about George W. Bush speeches that makes them so incomprehensible? It's surely something to do with how he delivers the words; something to do with the complete lack of emphasis on any particular word; or is it the speed of each sentence he utters, with a pause in between; or maybe it's his eyes never looking like they mean it; or because you always get the feeling he is just reading out the words somebody else has written? I ask all these questions because that's what I've been wondering for the last 8 years, and the problem with the actor playing W. was that he was too understandable, too clear in his speech-making. Yes, the way W. apparently scoffs his food seemed believable, but as Bea says the actor is too good-looking and too articulate to be the man we have had to watch for the 2 presidential terms...

Now, I've never met either George W. or Condoleeze Rice, so I can't say for sure how accurately they were portrayed, but surely nobody who has been Secretary of State for so many years can possibly really have been so puppet-like? I mean, her mannerisms on the screen became so annoying by the end that all I could think of was some sort of character from Thunderbirds; and her contribution to solving the world's problems was portrayed as little more than picking up the phone to put in a call for W. to Tony Blair or Jacques Chirac. I'm not SUCH an admirer of Oliver Stone to believe that this has not been exaggerated a little. Surely??

What was missing for me, since so much of the film was about family relationships, was some sort of treatment of the 'hanging chad' affair in Florida in 2000 and the way this affected or was affected by W.'s relationship with his brother Jeb.

And in a funny way, this film reminded me of how I felt about "The Queen" when I saw it a couple of years ago: I had assumed "The Queen" would be some sort of portrayal of her life or at least her reign; I was rather disappointed that it basically dealt with a few days in her life around the time of Diana's death. So with W., there seemed to be so much missing: I don't mind that the actual reaction to 9/11 was missing from the film, but there were so many relationships I felt could have been delved further into throughout his life that I left the cinema feeling a little bit cheated.

** 1/2

Flame and Citron

Bea says: Another seen as part of the London Film Festival, with the added bonus of a Q & A session with director, lead actor and producer afterwards. A super film, the likes of which are rarely seen these days. Strong, true-story plot of two WW2 Danish Undergroud heroes, beautifully written and characterised, great cinemaphotography. Film Noir with a modern twist; perhaps a little violent for some tastes, but it was how it was I guess. My favourite character: Ketty (can't remember her last name); double, triple, quadruple agent who died in Marjorca only ten years ago, never discussed the war and was clearly the informer on her lover and our hero Flame. The lead characters are portrayed with understanding but are frightening nevertheless, both in single minded determination and when in doubt and betrayal. If I can borrow a quote from the director to finish: "a tale of extraordinary people in extraordinary times".

*****

Cecil says: By a long way the best film I've seen this year. And I knew it would be from the opening scene (again, what is it about the power of opening scenes?). "Can you remember when they arrived? Can you remember April the 9th?" asked the voice as film footage showed German soldiers marching into Copenhagen all those years ago. And immediately, I was filled with that sense of foreboding and unease in my stomach, even though I was just sitting in the front row of a cinema and had only five minutes earlier been sipping a cup of tea...

There's something that always disturbs me in stories about the resistance during the war - it's close enough to feel like something I might have been confronted with in my lifetime and am only thankful I haven't been. But it makes me ask myself: How would I react to an invading force in my country? Would I hide away, suppress my thoughts and opinions to survive or would I feel compelled to resist as these guys did (whatever their motives)? They are questions I have asked myself ever since reading Simone de Beauvoir's 'Le sang des autres' where the protagonist ultimately doesn't have the courage to resist. All of us in our generation have the good fortune (at least - in our cases - in Western Europe or Australia) never to have been confronted with this dilemma and so none of us knows for sure how we would react if that situation ever arose.

But what was so powerful about this film? The characterisation; the doubts; never knowing who you can trust; not knowing who is going to betray you: people you think are friends or lovers actually being the ones who are deceiving you; the ones who appear to be the enemy (in this case Hoffmann, the Gestapo chief, and Gilbert, another prominent Nazi) actually being the most articulate and the ones who are able to sow the most doubt. And the slow switch in character between Flame and Citron, so that the Flame we see at the start (determined, more fiery, more able to kill) has by the end become the more uncertain of the two, while Citron (at first unable to kill anyone and clearly sweating with nerves constantly) slowly becomes the more determined killer.

The director told us at the end that Hitler had sent Hoffmann (a nice guy, by Gestapo standards) to Denmark, because he basically liked the Danes. And Hoffmann apparently mixed well with the Danish middle-classes, being a cultured and articulate guy. In the UK, we don't often think about Denmark in terms of the 2nd World War - or of neutral Sweden, for that matter. In our collective memory, we know about The Netherlands (A Bridge too Far), Italy (Ancona), Poland (ghetto) and for neutrality we think of Switzerland (and we conveniently seem also to forget Irish neutrality), but this film gives us an insight into the relationships between Sweden, Denmark and Germany during the war, revealing a whole new triangle most of us in the UK have not given much thought to.

This is a film I can imagine seeing again and again (something I haven't done since my real film-buff days in the 1980s)

*****

Wolke 9 (Cloud 9)

Cecil says: I'm starting to realise that the opening scene of a film is as important as the opening line of a novel - it sets the tone of the whole film. So why are there more quiz questions about closing scenes than opening scenes??

OK, having opened this entry with that question, I have to mention the opening scene of Wolke 9: it's actually the sound we notice first and only as the camera pulls back from the shot that we see the scene is a woman in her 60s sitting at a sewing machine. Almost immediately, you know that this is going to be one of those social-realist style of films and actually there is no music soundtrack through the whole film (sounds are important, though, like steam trains, yapping dogs, orgasms...). Within two minutes of the opening, we are also involved in an intense and passionate sex scene which sets the tone of the film, also: the story is all about love and passion between a woman in her 60s and a 76 year old man...

Actually, the film deals with all the usual issues around a classic love-triangle, with the key difference between the geriatric characters involved. How they resolve their issues, how they talk about them, how their uncertainties (or certainties) come to the surface could be the stuff of any Holywood drama we see every week. But this film WAS different: and the age of the characters is significant beyond just the fact that we don't normally see pensioners on film having sex. This is a generation of people who have not learnt the language of feelings, not had the emotional awareness people today gain either through actual therapy or through Cosmo magazine; so we hear Inge telling her husband she had hoped they could have a reasonable conversation about the situation; we have the husband suddenly accusing her of always having been naive - their inability to express their feelings or ask about the others' feelings, or even have any notion of feelings somehow comes across as something that would be less likely in a more contemporary (or youthful couple).

It is an intensely emotional film to watch, however, even if the characters aren't able to verbalise their own feelings. We have probably all at some point in our lives left someone or been the one who is abandoned - so for me the most powerful moment was the final touch of Inge's hand on Werner's hand as she leaves for the last time...but to say more would give away the plot, so I'll hand over to Bea...

***

Bea says: Well, Cecil said a lot about this one, so I will just give my impressions. The film is very physical in its exploration of pleasure; sex, singing, skinny dipping, cycling, bathing; to my own surprise at first I was unsure of how I felt about the abundance of older bodies naked and the realities of an older body, but before long this hesitation fell away, perhaps because of the simple, and hardly new, storyline, but also because it was good to see sensuality between ordinary people, without airbrushing, soundtracks and Hollywood-style manipulation. No Botox here! It was a story that I could completely relate to; it seems that all the relationship joys and traumas of my twenties and thirties will be continuing into my old age.

***

Children of the Silk Road

Bea says: Seen at the beautiful old cinema at Collaroy Beach in Sydney, we sat in the shelter of the surf lifesaving pavilion, drinking tea and watching the waves crash onto the beach in the rain of a Sydney winter before going in to see this film - but sadly the film was a bit of a disappointment, and sitting on the beach beforehand was easily the best part of this evening. Children of the Silk Road was Indiana Jones crossed with Dead Poets Society, with bad dialogue and wooden performances from the majority of the cast (excepting Chow Yun Fat and Michelle Yuan who do their best to salvage things). A great idea that just went so wrong - jump cut, cliche-ridden and anodyne.
*1/2

Cecil says: Bea and I have often dreamt of travelling along the Silk Road - in fact just before we found this film listed, we had been discussing whether it would be possible to travel by train all along the Silk Route into South-East Asia. So the film, based on a true story of orphan kids and an English journalist in 1930s China seemed perfect for our mood and our future direction in life. Asd Bea says, though, it was very disappointing. For me, it was trying to be Lawrence of Arabia in its epic story and dramatic landscapes, but it only managed to be Jumanji, with its dreadful dialogue, wooden acting and special effects.

We had been led to believe by the Australian film reviewers that this was an Asian-Australian production. But the credits rolling as the film opened showed that it had a European connection and even had MEDIA programme funding from the EU. I'm not sure what the European input was: the end credits seemed to suggest the digital post-production was done in Germany - not a great advert for EU funding since the special effects and airbrushing of the main characters' looks (far too pretty and clean for such a gruelling and isolated experience) added nothing.

The incredible thing about this film is that it is based on a true story but it came across as so unreal. A morphine-addicted lead actress would never look that good; as Bea says, the dialogue was so unnatural, it became comical. It really made me wonder what makes a good screenplay? How do some films like Lawrence of Arabia, Year of Living Dangerously manage it, and this film so clearly not manage it.

In short: beautifully filmed, but very very disappointing in every other aspect.

*1/2

Couscous

Cecil says: Couscous is a film about an old North African guy in southern France who loses his job repairing boats and decides to set up a couscous restaurant. It takes us through the highs and lows of this man and his family as they go through the various loops of French bureaucracy and the covert (and sometimes overt) racism of officialdom in this small coastal town; they also have to deal with their own naivety about what it means to set up a business from scratch and with the internal family affairs going on among the different siblings as well as the intricacies of keeping both his kids and ex-wife happy while not alienating his new woman and her daughter.

A complex tale, but gripping all the same. The film is produced by Claude Berry, who made Jean de Florette and Manon des Sources in the 1990s. There is something quintessentially French about a film which can observe family mannerisms and banal conversation in such detail over a long family lunch. This style drags a little for an English observer, but it does give a wonderful insight into personality and the goings on underneath the apparent harmony and intimacy of such family gatherings.

There is something ominous and scary about the small-town hierarchy, where the mayor, the bank manager, the authorising officer for business permits and the official giving out permits for berths in the port all know each other. And if you don't get on with one of them, you're in trouble. But if you can convince them of your worth, then you have a chance to get what you want. The trouble is that being North African, our protagonist can't afford to make a single mistake or everything will be lost. And there is the constant feeling through the film that something is bound to go wrong soon...

I was never a great fan of belly dancing while eating my dinner (but hey, I am from Hull), and the long, long scene of the step-daughter trying to save the evening by captivating the audience with an extended belly dance seemed never ending: surely some of the diners would have walked out in reality?? But for all that some scenes did seem inordinately long, the film overall gave me a tremendous yearning for a really good couscous...

***

Bea says: Complex is the best way to describe this film - it left me with many different emotions. The big family gatherings struck a chord with me and as they reminded me of my own family get togethers they made me feel cheerful in a nostalgic, wistful way. There was however something very tragic in the cut of the film's hero, and like Cecil I had a sense of impending doom throughout, which almost made me want to stop watching. I knew it was all going to go wrong. In many ways this seemed a story about women - the old wife, the new woman, the daughters and stepdaughters had key roles to play, indeed key roles in 'saving' the situation created by the men in the film. The final images of the film - the final image of the hero - left me feeling bereft, and made me want to phone my dad.

**1/2

Sex and the City

Bea says: I ditched a (relieved) Cecil for the evening and went to see this with a girlfriend at my local cinema. The cinema was jammed full of groups of women like us, with just a couple of long-suffering men dotted here and there.

I never followed the TV programme, in fact never saw a single episode! But the characters and storylines are famous enough for me to know what it was all going to be about, and I was prepared to give it a go, albeit with few expectations.

And it was a tonic. I have been busy and stressed lately, and a couple of hours of escapist fun with Carrie and the girls was just what I needed. I didn't totally relate, but the storyline is clever enough to pull independent, feminist girls like me in too, and I did like the fashion. One big clanger for me was the anti-fur protester scene; all too obvious propaganda for the fur trade and the likes of some big fasion houses and Vogue magazine. I was saddened by the reaction of the audience though, who lapped it up. But overall, a pleasantly distracting few hours, and a not too sickly sweet ending - I preferred the vintage suit all along.

***

L'absence

Bea says: The second of two films seen in Paris (on route to North Eastern France), we saw this at the equivalent of London's National Film Theatre (i.e. arty films, earnest, and sometimes downright odd, clientele). We knew nothing about it at all, so it was a surprise to see Wim Wenders was involved, and as we are both keen on Wenders we usually know most of his stuff. We were also pleased to note Jeanne Moroeau, who has featured in this blog before, had a role. We (or at least I) was less pleasantly surprised to find the film was mostly in French, as I speak little French. However, suffice to say that I followed the plot without a problem! This film specialised in long, languid shots of the four protagonists walking through forests and mountains, ducking through surreal doorways - council estate type flats in the middle of a forest etc - making a simple meal in a log cabin, having a feast in an old winery, searching, and driving a bus, celebrating on a beach.... It was kind of religious (a leader and his disciples, in the wilderness, last supper, leader vanishes, others search but do not find him, and I guess instead find stronger faith or part of themselves. I think in fact it was beneficial not to understand the dialogue (what there was of it) as instead I just watched the story the visuals gave me. I quite enjoyed it, in a chilled out, different kind of way.
** 1/2

Cecil says: The worst film I have seen in years. I almost joined the steady trickle of people who left before the end, but stuck it out partly because I hate to miss the end of a story, even if I haven't got a clue what is going on.

Fantastic cast with two of my favourite actors of the 70s/80s in Jeanne Moreau and Bruno Ganz. But, oh my God, what was it all about? Reminded me of my first experience of a Robert Bresson film: slow, no apparent continuity, surreal to the point of ridicule and utterly, utterly boring. Bea reckoned there may have been some biblical references in it: last supper, days in the wilderness etc etc, but for an old atheist like me with a comprehensive education in Hull where religious education was to learn about other religions rather than Christianity, any biblical references were totally lost on me. Honestly, I had not got a clue. I hate surrealism at the best of times, but when it's combined with pompous soliloquy, it is a recipe for a dire Sunday afternoon.

Maybe my observations of the audience before the film started should have been a warning. 25 people there, but all sitting alone apart from Bea and me; utter silence in the room (probably no surprise given that they were all sitting on their own) - the silence felt weird, but actually, given the film's content, maybe it was a sign...But then again, since half of them left before the end, maybe they also didn't like the sign...

One thing I have to say about Paris, though: you can see far more varied films in a weekend than you can in London, and at only €9 each for 2 films, tremendous value. Bea and I walked back into the Bercy streets and mingled with the rowdy basketball final fans, all waving their flags and banners for Cholet, wherever that may be in France. A bizarre day...

A star rating??? I can't even give it half a star, sorry.

Am Ende kommen Touristen...

Cecil say: A young German man is sent to Auschwitz for his national service (the civilian option, not the military!). It is present-day Poland, and the old concentration camp has been rebuilt as a museum and memorial - coach loads of Germans pass through every day and are encouraged to reflect on what the place means for them today. Our protagonist's main task is to look after an old inmate, Polish, who still gives talks to the visitor groups and repairs the old suitcases left behind by those who perished in the camp.



Bea and I had different views on what the point of the film was. I'm not actually sure the film had a point to make. It had an underlying feel of a road movie, but the movement was more through the camp (German tourists passing through in coaches; young German national service guy spending a few months there; the Polish tour guide he falls for is about to set off to a new career in Brussels...) - was that a reflection of the gruesome movement through the camp of the prisoners 60 years earlier?



The static character was the old Polish gent: so static that his methods of repairing suitcases were no longer up-to-scratch for the new museum curators; his talks about life in the camp apparently too static also for the entrepreneurial woman who sets up a new memorial in the next village. He even lives on the campsite still, but by the end of the film, it looks as though this too cannot continue.



But our young German protagonist, although despised by the locals, does come to some understanding and empathy for the old Polish guy. True, he dithers over commitment to the Polish woman, and she also appears uncertain of whether she wants to be involved with him - she must at all costs get out of the place... But, at the end of the film, our German national service character seems set on seeing out his time in Auschwitz. As with any person in the early 20s, life is a series of steps forward accompanied by dithering and uncertainty, and even some steps back to safety zones: I found his character very believable.



What was slightly annoying was the lack of research into just how an interpreter (or translator) goes about getting a job in Brussels. The Polish woman is called for interview 'at the Agriculture Commission in Brussels' and we learn that she is offered a job on-the-spot and should start almost immediately. If only it were so simple! The recruitment procedure for any EU officials is a good deal more convoluted and even if we allow for poetic (or cinematographic) licence with the timescales, why on earth refer to an 'Agriculture Commission' when no such thing exists in Brussels?
***



Bea says: Cecil makes some good points - there was certainly something about movement/arrival/departure in this film that seemed eerily reminiscent of the footage I have seen about the arrival and departure of people to and from Auschwitz during its darkest hour. This film had thought provoking moments; such as when the (local) young Polish woman who becomes involved with our protagonist talks about growing up and living in Auschwitz (the town) - "its just the place where I live"; and there were also interesting moments around language - what it means to locals to use the German language, although the elderly Polish survivor spoke German almost exclusively, and the young Polish woman enthused about the beauty of the German language. But after this film Cecil and I had a lively discussion about whether the purpose of narrative and story is to describe a transformation of some kind, and if so what kind of transformation occurred in "Am Ende kommen Touristen..." The answer is not clear to me.
***

Happy-Go-Lucky

Bea says: Seen in Hull, always an appropriate setting for a Mike Leigh film. I've seen quite a bit of Mike Leigh over the years and don't actually find him as bleak as many say he is, although he is always thought-provoking, and Happy-Go-Lucky was no exception. I mulled it over for quite a while afterwards. I'd read a couple of reviews along the lines of "Mike Leigh does happy" etc etc, and afterwards wondered if the reviewers and I had actually watched the same film - I didn't think it was particularly "happy". The main character was fully drawn - there were many things I liked about her; I could imagine being her friend, meeting her for drinks or coffee, but she also got on my nerves. Her character mellows and deepens through the film as a series of events puts her "happy-go-lucky" nature to the test. However, it also felt like there was more than this to the character and film, something about a life we either do or don't face up to, and what that does to us.
***1/2

Cecil says: 15 minutes into this film, I was bored. I hadn't seen a Mike Leigh film for years and had forgotten how mind-numbingly mundane the setting of his films can be. Did I really want to sit through over two hours of the sort of conversation I might have had 25 years ago and with a main character who had the most annoying, nervous giggle. Funnily enough, the Hull cinema advertised this film as 2h20 long, whereas the newspaper reviews say it's 1h58 (did the Hull cinema get a special un-cut version??) - no matter: by 30 minutes in, I was riveted and the time flew by for the rest of the film.

As Bea says, the characters slowly grew - on us as film-goers and in themselves. There was a strange scene with a tramp which left me rather non-plussed (and actually made me wonder if the Hull cinema had received a 'cut' version, with the bit taken out which would have made sense of the tramp episode); I can't believe anybody would stay with such a mad driving instructor as long as she did; and the poor, pregnant and boringly suburban sister seemed a bit of a cartoon character (I mean, not everybody in the suburbs spends all their time looking after their hydrangeas, and just because Bea and I have done this Bank Holiday does NOT make us a boring, suburban couple...or does it? - answers on a postcard, please to Mike Leigh...)

***

Lights in the Dark (Laitakaupungin Valot)

Bea says: Helsinki looked bleak, grey and made of concrete. Cafes and bars looked functional, rather than comfortable. Everyone was taciturn, and the plot - a "loser" whose life spirals quickly downward after a misguided liaison with a conwoman - not at all cheery. Except that next to me were two Finns who found the whole thing hilarious. Somewhat nonplussed, I listened to them laugh at the misfortunes of this sorry character. And it kind of rubbed off, and I found myself chuckling as our unfortunate hero is rejected by women, ignored by society, beaten up and imprisoned, and winds up living in a shelter, washing dishes for a living and sitting in bars listening to the depressing lyrics of Finnish tango (yes, that's right, Finnish tango - the Argentinian kind but with Finnish lyrics). I really enjoyed this film. The lead is perhaps just a little too good-looking to be truly a loser, but it works.
****

Cecil says: I saw my first Kaurismaki film 12 years ago in Brussels - I was taken by a Finnish colleague and the cinema was full of Finns falling about in the aisles as they watched an equally dismal plot develop ("Drifting Clouds"). So, I was ready for the style of film. What struck me was the total silence in the NFT (I didn't hear Bea's laughing Finns or even Bea's own chuckles) and all I could think was: there aren't many Finns among us tonight...

As I say, having seen the previous Kaurismaki film, I found it easier to relax and begin to see through the apparent hopelessness of the main character's life. There is something wonderful about the male characters in this film - a rough lot to say the least, but something strangely fascinating, even about the three buffoons in the bar who beat up our poor hero (my Finnish is pretty rubbish, but even I could see that they are just given the title 'gorillas' in the credits) - but why does everyone in the film smoke (is this some subliminal message from Kaurismaki or is it a true reflection of Helsinki working life?). There are only two female characters: one is the woman who cons the main man into falling for her (and who is then seen simply vacuuming while the male gangsters play cards); the other is the grilled sausage seller who is always there to listen, to help and to support. At the end, it is their holding hands which leaves us with a message of hope in spite of all that society can throw at us. Now, when is the next Kaurismaki coming out...
***

Lift to the Scaffold (Ascenseur pour l'echafaud)

Cecil says: Part of the film noir series at the NFT, this 1958 classic with Jeanne Moreau is full of passion, romance, intrigue and a double murder...But actually, what's fascinating seeing this film 50 years on is to look at some of the context of the film: we are close enough to the Second World War for the German 'tourists' to order lots of champagne and then say jokingly how fortunate 'we' didn't drink all of the stuff during the occupation; the main male lead had fought in Indo-China and had subsequently spent time in Algeria (and of course the film is made right in between these two milestones in French history); and we are led to believe that Mr Carala, the all-powerful businessman, had made his fortune either in armaments or oil linked to both Vietnam and Algeria.

But Jeanne Moreau is the star. Apparently her first big film (having already made it big on the stage), she oozes sensuality throughout - in fact, all the female actors have something of the alluring, pouting femme fatale about them: were all French women like that or is it the image the big screen liked to use to portray them, or just a quirk of the director Louis Malle, who was only 24 when he made this film? And how on earth did Moreau get across the busy Champs Elysees without looking at the traffic once (or is that in fact the best way to get across roads in France?)

Wonderful camera work and use of light. And silence is so powerful, with no soundtrack for long periods, especially when our main man is trying to get himself out of the lift that got stuck - you could almost hear his brain clicking over, as he looks for some options for getting out of his predicament.

Of course France is (or was?) the country of the 'crime of passion' (when did they drop that law?) - why, an English audience might ask, does the murderer only get 10 years (and out in 5) whereas his accomplice would get 20?? This is certainly a very French film, but one note of connection to British cinema - the young couple who get so involved in the story are so reminiscent of Pinky and the young waitress in Brighton Rock and this film was made 11 years after Brighton Rock, so was a young Louis Malle actually influenced by Graham Greene?
****

Bea says: A strong storyline (with plot and subplots to maintain interest) and beautiful cinematography - they don't make them like this anymore. Moreau walks the streets of Paris at night, lit only by streetlighting and isn't afraid to look tired and wan. Producers, directors and actors of today, take note - there are many different kinds of beauty. Cecil has said enough - I loved the costuming (Veronique's outfit would look modern today), and the showcasing of all the 1950s inventions - a kind of early product placement (luxurious new cars, electric pencil sharpeners, miniature cameras and express developing of film, motels!).
***1/2

No Country for Old Men

Bea says: I loved this film. Seen in Hull, at the new St Stephen's Centre, it was my father-in-law's choice. He didn't like it, and I think Cecil could take it or leave it, but I really, really liked it. The last Coen brothers film I saw was probably Fargo, and I used to see a lot of their films when I was hanging with a hipper crowd than I do now - I'd forgotten just how good they are. I also didn't realise until the closing credits that the film is based on a Cormac McCarthy book - I went straight to the library on getting back to London and borrowed everything of his I could lay my hands on (only The Road actually). I've thought about reading his books for a long time but they always seemed really male. They are, and yet they're not.
The bleak, seemingly empty Texan landscape of the film reminded me of home, and of all the books I've read and films I've seen that use the landscape of Australia, North America, Canada, New Zealand as symbols of foreboding, fear, death and ancientness. The film follows Tommy Lee Jones (a mature sheriff) through a hunt for a serial killer, and increasingly we get Jones's sense that the world is changing fast, and not for the better. The early 80s setting serves to reinforce this - we know what's about to happen (Thatcher springs to mind - there is no society, only the individual...). Performances are superb, direction amazing. Only one thing didn't sit well with me: it's my usual complaint I'm afraid. The only main female character, who supposedly works at Wal-Mart and lives in a trailer in 1981, had collagen enhanced lips - not likely! The only blot on an otherwise perfect copybook.

Cecil says: Bea is wrong. I did like the film. What I'm not sure I liked was the constant sense of foreboding throughout the film and the feeling that around the next corner there would be yet another violent act filmed in such a matter-of-fact way. The story-line is gripping, certainly. But maybe where my perceptions differ from Bea's is in the overall feeling of how alien those vast expanses of almost lifeless land feel (I love the feel of Australia, but America could be on the other side of the Moon for me and I am just conscious that nothing close to home anywhere in Europe is comparable). And I could not identify with any of the characters - that doesn't matter in itself but it added to my sense of observing something happening a long way away. Oh, and I can't say I noticed the collagen lips, but hey, I'm not looking. I did notice Javier Bardem's hair cut, though, which seems to be the thing all the fashion and style pages are talking about.

And one final comment: just to reassure our blog readers, Bea and I are NOT chasing prize-winning films. We didn't even realise that The Edge of Heaven (now on release in the UK) had won the Prix Lux until the credits at the end of the film. And No Country for Old Men only won its Oscars AFTER we saw it Hull. Honest!

Cast a Dark Shadow

Bea says: Part of the current Margaret Lockwood series at the NFT, we had the added treat of listening to the film's costume designer's reminiscences before the show - and I paid extra attention to the beautiful 1950s suits and coats as a result. Cast a Dark Shadow felt strangely modern to me, and I suspect this is because it is not dissimilar to a much more recent film - "The Talented Mr Ripley". Dirk Bogarde plays a suave, charming golddigger who marries a wealthy widow, and then craftily does away with her. He does not, however, inherit her fortune as he had hoped, and soon he is in search of another victim (Lockwood), whilst also scheming against his inital wife's sister (who did inherit her fortune). Lockwood gives an excellent performance of a sharp, working class woman made good, and Bogarde is creepily believable as the attractive yet pathetic "Teddy Bear" - I don't remember "The Talented Mr Ripley" particularly well (I fell asleep watching it) but wasn't Di Caprio's character even called something similar?? The film's ending reminded me why car crash scenes are in films - these days they usually make me switch off, but in this film the final scenes had real effect; perhaps because the noise and drama were in such opposition to the buttoned-up repression of 1950s Britain otherwise portrayed. An interesting film, sadly rarely shown.

Cecil says: At one point early on in the film Dirk Bogarde is reprimanded by his (older) wife for not standing up as someone leaves the room - this reminder of etiquette gave me some flash-backs of living in Brussels among the many nationalities of Europe where such niceties are still adhered to: I'm thinking of my former Austrian and German colleagues in particular who (I'm sure) thought me very badly-educated for taking my jacket off without permission, for leaving a lift ahead a lady and, indeed, not standing up when somebody enters or leaves a room. Why do those other European countries think of England as the home of such fine upstanding behaviour, when actually it feels so outdated - so 1950s - when you see it in front of you on the screen.

Dirk Bogarde is, as Bea says, very believable and a tad scary; I'm not convinced Lockwood was the best person for her role, though. The NFT programme notes said people thought it more suited to Diana Dors, but for me it would have been better played by someone like Elsie Tanner (sorry - forgot the actress' name - and Bea has just revealed her very youthful age by saying she's never heard of Elsie Tanner...). Very enjoyable film though - and didn't they get through a lot in 80 minutes in those days?

Rating: ***