1980s List Discussion and Suggestions (Lists Project Vol. 3)

[colinr0380]

I do like the Julien Temple segment for its fluid camera moves (especially the move from the bathroom right onto the dancefloor with the Elvis impersonator taking centre stage, or the bellboy turning into a race starter to see the couples off in their cars, turning the couples into adolescent racers from something like Rebel Without A Cause! By the way, talking about excessive 50s stylings in Julien Temple films, have you seen Earth Girls Are Easy yet domino?), but particularly love the Ken Russell short and the Franc Roddam Liebestod segment. Just because the Liebestod piece is less obviously daring in its Las Vegas-set conflation of excessive emotion leading into a depressive, hungover and dead broke stumble out into the too bright and exposing new day, doesn't mean it isn't pulled off magnificently.

The Beresford segment is really problematic (mostly the ridiculous dubbing of the overly earnestly miming couple, including Liz Hurley totally starkers in her first starring role also!), but I did love the shots of wintery, frozen landscape and the ghostly feel to it.

The Altman segment kind of prefigures Kiarostami's Shirin! Although without Kiarostami's confidence in stillness and observation leading to revelation it falls more into the Altman ensemble trend of lots of different bits of business going on in all of the corners of the screen that more or less resolve into a kind of commentary on audiences. The issues of desperate performers and uninterested (or preoccupied!) audiences is dealt with better in the Godard segment too!

[Emak-Bakia]

Has anyone here seen Gordon Willis' Windows? I'm trying to decide if I should blind buy the DVD-R, since it's only $12 on Amazon right now.

[Dylan]

Has anyone here seen Gordon Willis' Windows? I'm trying to decide if I should blind buy the DVD-R, since it's only $12 on Amazon right now.

I have. Its been a few years but overall I found it to be better than the reputation that precedes it. It's a strange, over-the-top, somewhat illogical thriller that looks exactly like a late 70s, early 80s Woody Allen film (not only did Gordon Willis direct it but he was also the DP, and Mel Bourne was the production designer... one of the extras from Annie Hall also plays a cab driver).

[bamwc2]

Viewing Log:

From the Pole to the Equator (Yervant Gianikian and Angela Ricci Lucchi, 1987): There's not too much to say here about the film itself. Gianikian and Lucchi stumbled across lost footage from silent era director Luca Comerio. Most of it is travelogue footage shot in the Arctic Circle and later Africa, but we also get to see the trenches of WWI. The material is then played in succession with slow and ominous minimalist music overlayed on the tinted footage. The images presented here are always interesting, and often harrowing, from the cruel hunting of a polar bear to the legion of Italian soldier running to their likely deaths. However, if Gianikian and Lucchi had some ultimate point that they were trying to make with the work, then I have to admit that it went above my head. It's an interesting experience from a historical perspective, but is it meant to be more? I don't know.

Fruits of Passion (Shûji Terayama, 1981): Terayama's feature length debut this decade ended up being...a loose adaptation of Dominique Aury's The Story of O. This time the setting is transplanted to early twentieth century China, where Sir Stephen (Klaus Kinski) brings his lover O (Isabelle Illiers) to work as the only Caucasian prostitute in brothel, while his other European lover Nathalie (Arielle Dombasle) carps about how terrible O is. When Sir Stephen's dealings with the mafia turn his fortunes on their head, Nathalie proves less loyal than her rival, but Stephen's own journey of loss and desperation is far from over. Why did Terayama make such radical changes to the novel? Why did he decide that the film's three main characters should be white Europeans while retaining an Asian setting? I don't know. There's no doubt that there was a strong European presence in the country at the time culminating with the Boxer Rebellion, but it all strikes me as so mystifying. Not that Aury's text is exactly a model of clarity. The Story of O is one of the rare books that I never made it through, in this case because I could never understand what Aury was up to. The film isn't that great either, not coming close to the heights of Terayama's previous decade. It's the closest of his work that I've seen to a traditional narrative, though it does retain some of his unique flares. It has its moments, but I'd ultimately recommend passing.

Lifeforce (Tobe Hooper, 1985): Hooper's legendary story of space vampires is another one of those films that I saw portions of about a dozen times on HBO as a kid, but never more than five minutes of at a time. Looking back on it now, I realize that there was a lot more to it than my 12 year old self was willing to admit (i.e. more beyond Ms. May's early scenes). The film follows the story of a space crew led by Col. Tom Carlsen (Steve Railsback in my second film starring him in as many weeks) who investigate a massive UFO orbiting the tale of Haley's Comet. The crew finds a group of nude humanoids in suspended animation which they take on board. We then cut to several weeks in the future where their spaceship crash lands back on Earth and the aliens, led by the oft nude Mathilda May, began feeding on the life forces of the populace of London. The film itself is more interested in the psycho-sexual aspects of the vampirism until it's bloody final act, but that isn't to its detriment since I find this side to be of greater interest than the undead corpses running around trying to suck out Londoner's souls to survive. Overall the film is rather messy, but it's borderline fun. I could go either way on this one, but I'm leaning toward not giving it a recommendation.

Looking for Langston (Isaac Julien, 1989): I owned a copy of this a long time ago (back in my DVD Beaver days), but sold it sight unseen after absolutely hating his Young Soul Rebels. After reading some praise for this flick, I thought that I'd give him another try. While certainly better than my other experience with Julien, I still wouldn't call this good. The story here begins with the death of Langston Hughes, and then looks back on gay culture within the Harlem Renaissance. The black and white cinematography is fairly good, but in the end, this flick seems fairly insubstantial.

Manhunter (Michael Mann, 1986): Here's another one that I caught bits and pieces of on premium TV as a kid. The film details the investigations into the home invasions/murders of the Tooth Fairy Killer. Starring a thin William Peterson as retired FBI agent Will Graham, this is the film that introduced the cinematic world to Dr. Hannibal Lecktor (a very creepy Brian Cox) in his pre-Clarice Starling days. The film had me worried at first with Graham giving just awful internal dialogues where he works out clues by screaming to himself. However, much to my delight the film turned into the same tense high caliber of thriller as its immediate sequel. Aside from the embarrassing histrionics from Peterson (not that I think anyone could have done a better job in his place) he does a great job, as do Kim Greist, Joan Allen, and Dennis Farina in their supporting roles. Overall, this one was a real winner and stands a good shot at making my list.

Oci ciornie (Nikita Mikhalkov, 1987): Marcello Mastroianni stars as Romano, an elderly wealthy Italian playboy who tells the story of his love affair with a beautiful Russian aristocrat (played by Marthe Keller) when he was a younger man. The film has some fun moments, and the relationship works well between the two leads, but the comedy in here was too broad by half. Not really my cup of tea, so I'd recommend just skipping it.

[domino harvey]

KIll Me Again (John Dahl 1989) Another 80s noir wherein Joanne Whalley cons loser private detective Val Kilmer into faking her death with expected results. The elements are all here for a classic noir, but Dahl's direction, weak script, and use of violence, particularly when concerning Michael Madsen's character, is just off-putting and often rather ugly. I enjoyed Kilmer's breezy presence, and Madsen is indeed intense, but I just don't think all the pieces fit.

9 1/2 Weeks (Adrian Lyne 1986) Embarrassingly unsexy exploration of an unhealthy sexual relationship between Kim Basinger and Mickey Rourke. Rourke wears one expression throughout the film, that of seemingly about to break out laughing, and I know the feeling! There are lots of endless sexual encounters here, most of which are reduced down to their least erotic components in the process of filtering everything through a mid-80s music video aesthetic. Producer/co-writer Zalman King of course built a premium cable empire on his work here, and that short-lived stopgap legacy of soft erotic fare is interesting in context, but dreadfully dull and frustrating in practice. I lost all hope for this film about a third of the way in after Rourke rapes Basinger and of course it turns out she loves it, and it didn't get any better from there. The only response this elicited in me was second-hand mortification and embarrassment for everyone involved.

Shag (Zelda Barron 1989) Four repressed southern belles in the early 60s decide to sneak down to Myrtle Beach for a Shag dance competition and zany teenage antics ensue. The young actresses do their best with the rather slim narrative and character motivations (the men fare far worse, though I liked the square future military cadet), but there was rarely anything new or fresh or novel imparted in the process. All I could think while watching is how Where the Boys Are already did everything this film attempts, only infinitely better, and actually in the time period depicted, a far braver and greater achievement. This is just playing pretend.

Someone To Watch Over Me (Ridley Scott 1987) Without even checking I'm guessing this came up in the Premium Cable Staples thread, as it feels like every movie that ever aired on HBO or Showtime at 9PM on a Thursday. Rookie detective Tom Berenger and Lorraine Bracco are fun in the early passages, exhibiting some comic timing and lightness of touch, but once the plot mechanics start grinding, no one is spared from cliches and eye-rolling narrative nonsense (Some crazy mob boss/thug does all his own dirty work?) and the central affair of the film makes so little sense that when characters exhibit confusion and anger over it, the audience may suspect their responses weren't scripted!

[bamwc2]

Domino, I had pretty much the exact same reaction to 9 1/2 Weeks earlier in the project. However, I'm racking my brain trying to remember a rape scene and am coming up empty. I've been highly critical of this same motif and other films, and if I somehow missed it, it would move my opinion of the film from merely bad to contemptible.

[domino harvey]

Spoiler

Rourke says he wants to spank Basinger, she says no, he rips off her underwear, she continues to say no, he enters her, she says no, he comes and she is shown ravishing in pleasure. I watched the Blu-ray which says it is "uncut for the first time ever," so maybe it doesn't happen in all versions?

[bamwc2]

Spoiler

Rourke says he wants to spank Basinger, she says no, he rips off her underwear, she continues to say no, he enters her, she says no, he comes and she is shown ravishing in pleasure. I watched the Blu-ray which says it is "uncut for the first time ever," so maybe it doesn't happen in all versions?

Yeah, that doesn't sound familiar, but I could have always been distracted while it was on. It's a pretty boring film.

[domino harvey]

Rourke: Watch it again!
ba(singer)mwc2: No
Rourke: You like it!
ba(singer)mwc2: No, I don't
Rourke: Watch it again!
ba(singer)mwc2: Okay you're right I love it you win

[John Cope]

KIll Me Again (John Dahl 1989) Another 80s noir wherein Joanne Whalley cons loser private detective Val Kilmer into faking her death with expected results. The elements are all here for a classic noir, but Dahl's direction, weak script, and use of violence, particularly when concerning Michael Madsen's character, is just off-putting and often rather ugly. I enjoyed Kilmer's breezy presence, and Madsen is indeed intense, but I just don't think all the pieces fit.

I've always loved this movie and still consider it Dahl's best. In many respects it may be the great neo-noir of its period as it is about nothing but resurrecting all the tropes of old with affection and investment. It's brilliant and utterly captivating at taking noir as a springboard or frame for what's actually a distilled, precise and concise aesthetic exercise. That makes it sound airless but it's anything but. Other than the similarly themed films Verhoeven and Neil Jordan were making around this time most neo noirs have been pretty under-inspired. At best they ape an attitude or plot devices, lazily deploying familiar tropes in a contemporary environment. Few have ever been as concentrated in their aesthetic considerations. I still marvel at that--at just how economical this picture is with sound and image while being constantly inspired at the same time. It should be shown in school. Really. Having said all that though there is one glaring continuity flaw that continues to bug me and prevents the film from being perfect. Switching around a couple scenes would fix it.

On another note, never got over my Joanne Whalley crush. Never will.

9 1/2 Weeks (Adrian Lyne 1986) Embarrassingly unsexy exploration of an unhealthy sexual relationship between Kim Basinger and Mickey Rourke. Rourke wears one expression throughout the film, that of seemingly about to break out laughing, and I know the feeling! There are lots of endless sexual encounters here, most of which are reduced down to their least erotic components in the process of filtering everything through a mid-80s music video aesthetic. Producer/co-writer Zalman King of course built a premium cable empire on his work here, and that short-lived stopgap legacy of soft erotic fare is interesting in context, but dreadfully dull and frustrating in practice. I lost all hope for this film about a third of the way in after Rourke rapes Basinger and of course it turns out she loves it, and it didn't get any better from there. The only response this elicited in me was second-hand mortification and embarrassment for everyone involved.

Though I like 9 1/2 Weeks a lot I can understand why someone wouldn't and it's nowhere near as good as what King does with the template later. He perfected his own brand.

Someone To Watch Over Me (Ridley Scott 1987) Without even checking I'm guessing this came up in the Premium Cable Staples thread, as it feels like every movie that ever aired on HBO or Showtime at 9PM on a Thursday. Rookie detective Tom Berenger and Lorraine Bracco are fun in the early passages, exhibiting some comic timing and lightness of touch, but once the plot mechanics start grinding, no one is spared from cliches and eye-rolling narrative nonsense (Some crazy mob boss/thug does all his own dirty work?) and the central affair of the film makes so little sense that when characters exhibit confusion and anger over it, the audience may suspect their responses weren't scripted!

For me this one remains among Scott's very finest works and an excellent example of the neo-noir despite seemingly committing some of the cardinal sins I refer to above. Much of the stuff with the villain, his actions and overall behavior, is incomprehensible, verging on the indefensible, the sheerest possible device to force and manipulate the narrative. But that's obvious and becomes overtly so by the time you get to the otherwise absurdly unmotivated ending. What's best and most impressive about this picture is the way in which Scott brilliantly uses the hoary old cliche plot, set up and structure as a pretext for a set of intensive reflections upon the themes of gender and role playing which have always existed in his work though usually in a far less explicit form. The plot allows for a real working out of his interest in not just the strong female presence but how that develops, strength then as necessity rather than mere affectation or pure political point making (which would dog the later Thelma & Louise which becomes too explicit and not reflective enough). The progressive weakening of the Berenger character due to circumstances and the different gradations of strength expressed by Bracco and Rogers as well as the ultimate implications of all that is really what this film is all about. Meanwhile, Scott's heightened style furthers his case.

[bamwc2]

Domino, you know I love you, but please, no rape jokes.

[domino harvey]

I wasn't making one... Rourke uses that line of argument for every game the two play in the film (though looking at my post I can see how it could be construed that way, which only makes the film skeevier, huh?)-- for future reference I'm pretty sure I've never made a rape joke in my life

[domino harvey]

Also, I love it when John Cope and Colin weigh in on premium cable staples that tend to get marginalized/overlooked, even when I disagree with their conclusions!

[bamwc2]

My mistake. I can't say that I'm as pure as the driven snow myself. Like most men, I've done my fair share of boneheaded things to add to rape culture over the years. The secret is to learn from it and adapt.

[zedz]

L'Amour Braque - Makes La Femme publique looks like Carl Theodor Dreyer. The film begins at fever pitch with a very eighties bank robbery (Pastel smoke bombs! Choreography courtesy The Kids from Fame!) that introduces us to possibly the most annoying bunch of characters ever committed to film. You need to drastically modify that assessment about ten minutes later when more characters are introduced. Among them is Sophie Marceau, who's determined to show La Femme publique's Valerie Kaprisky how this Hysterical Mannequin thing should really be done. Marceau wins the emote-off, and gets to spend the rest of her life with the director.

I've always considered Marceau an absolutely abysmal actress (she's bearable in Police, but easily the weakest part of that film), but this astonishing performance really puts her in a whole new class of terrible. The plot calls for her to ping pong between at least three men, and do the "I Love You / I HATE YOOOOOOUUUU" thing with all of them. Zulawski even contorts the plot so that he can reprise the 'Zulawsking the Classics' bit from the earlier film, with Marceau aesthetically fisting Chekhov while the actress intended for the role stands sidestage in awe, screaming, "she's even better than me!" I think she's right, in a Zulawskian sense. The first actress was merely absolutely fucking terrible, whereas Marceau would drive Ed Wood to retakes.

And Marceau stands head and shoulders above her costars, who don't even have different settings for their mania. If scientists determined that the ten worst performances of all time were all contained within this film, I wouldn't bat an eye.

It's a complete car wreck, but as usual the intensity of the style, gilded with glitzy tracking shots and Wellesian angles, makes the whole sorry mess watchable, and the conventionality of the film's events mean that you get to see what Zulawski action scenes, shootouts, car chases and gratuitous explosions look like.

These aren't films that I can recommend in good conscience, but I can confirm that they exist, and you probably haven't seen anything quite like them.

[Lemmy Caution]

For some reason around 2006 -08, Sophie Marceau was very popular in China. If I talked about movies or actresses someone would quickly bring up Sophie Marceau and ask me if I liked her. I only had a vague idea who she was. And looking at her filmography I can't find any film, let alone one around that time, which would explain her popularity here. Maybe she came here and headlined a Shanghai Film Festival or something. But she had, or perhaps still has, quite a following in Shanghai.

[matrixschmatrix]

She was incredible in The World Is Not Enough, does that help?

[domino harvey]

Did they all really like Braveheart maybe? And if so, why?

[bamwc2]

Viewing Log:

Angel Egg (Mamoru Oshii, 1985): Oshii's anime begins with twenty minutes of silence during which time we follow an unnamed girl through the empty streets of a deserted town. Is she truly alone? Why does she carry a large egg with her wherever she goes? Next we meet a soldier, also alone, and of ambiguous origins. He tries to convince her that the egg must be broken if for no other reason than to simply see what's inside. She declines and the two spend most of the rest of the film's scant ~75 minute run time discussing strange cosmogonies and wondrous mythologies. As you can probably guess, the egg opens before the end, but that doesn't mean that we ever learn what's inside. Like most of the film itself, the final revelation is a mystery. I have no idea what to make of this film. It might be great and it might be awful. I just don't know.

Born in Flames (Lizzie Borden, 1983): Director Lizzie Borden's experimental tale tells the story of a futuristic dystopia ten years after a peaceful revolution has transformed the USA into an egalitarian socialist state. Unfortunately, attempts at establishing universal employment have resulted in unskilled workers taking up what they perceive as meaningless low paying jobs, leading to riots in the streets. Compounding matters, the gender politics of the new government are still outdated and macho chauvinism rules the day. This leads a radical collective of African American women and white lesbians to band together to fight patriarchy by pushing the revolution even further through any means necessary. It's an interesting experimental indie film with some very intelligent things to say about the work of women (see for instance the early montage of female construction workers, dish washers, and a sex worker putting a condom on an erect penis). My wife hated the film's oft repeated theme, but I kind of dug it's new wave punk-synth sound. It's far from great, but still an interesting curiosity.

City of Pirates (Raoul Ruiz, 1983): In perhaps the oddest film by Ruiz that I've seen yet, Isidore (Anne Alvaro) meets a young boy named Malo (Melvil Poupaud) who has recently murdered his entire family. The two become engaged (or at least so he claims) when Isidore picks a ring off of the ground, but a subsequent killing by him forces the two to flee to the Island of Pirates where.... Well, it's a bit pointless to try and synopsize the film since it's numerous surreal elements defy description. Visually, this film is a masterpiece with each tightly composed shot like a journey into the mind of an artist. Indeed, it's hard to think of a single flaw to be found in here with the film's dreamlike qualities providing the perfect take on surreal cinema.

City of Sadness (Hsiao-hsien Hou, 1989): I'm fairly late to getting aboard the Hou bandwagon, having up until recently only seen a handful of what I considered to be middle of the road flicks from the last decade. However, having now viewed this and A Summer with Grandpa, I'm a sycophant too. This film tells a wonderfully rich story of one family's experience during the nationalist's White Terror Campaign, an event that I'm ashamed to say I was unfamiliar with until yesterday. To say that the film is dense would be an understatement. Hou makes use of every second of screen time, often telling a story through glances and facial expressions, rather than dialogue. I won't say that I understood it all. In fact, I think that I missed as much as I absorbed, but from my reading on the film, this seems to be a fairly common reaction for its initial viewing by Western audiences. It undoubtedly merits another screening and hopefully soon!

The Killing of America (Sheldon Renan and Leonard Schrader, 1981): Jeeeeesus Christ, I watched this yesterday morning before taking my son out to see the Easter Bunny at the mall. Nothing could have been a more depressing way to start the day than viewing this sensationalistic examination of violence in America over a 17 year span. The film begins by demonstrating the profundity of a freshman who's just coasted by with a gentleman's C in his Sociology 101 class by postulating that the epidemic of violence facing the US in the early 80s could be traced back to the Kennedy assassination. Obviously the causes of crime are multitudinous and vary based on the criminal, but the filmmakers don't see to realize that. The film is more interested in supplying easy answers than asking difficult questions. Strike that. The film is actually more interested in telling gory and gruesome tales of serial killers ("Sex spree killers" as the film labels them), by showing as many graphic photos and actual murders as they can. And boy howdy, do the filmmakers excel here. I took a graduate course in moral psychology dedicated to examining serial killers, and thought that I was jaded to all of the real life terrors. However, this film plumbs the depths of the murderers in America, dedicating extended time to a group of killers that I had never heard of before. They're all told in terrifying detail with every instance of necrophilia, rape, and mutilation marked in bright green highlighter. Watching this film was like a psychic punch in the gut. It left me dejected, defeated, and with no faith in humanity despite the John Lennon tribute at the end.

Swann in Love (Volker Schlöndorff, 1984): Jeremy Irons stars in this French language production as Charles Swann in this adaptation of the middle part of Marcel Proust's "Remembrance" series. In the film... ZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz ZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz ZZZZZZZZzzzzzz oh...ah...what just happened? Well, the film's chief problem is that it's dreadfully boring, lacking of the magic of Proust's book (to be fair, I can't really judge this having not read any of them). Like a Merchant-Ivory production, the film is immaculately composed with the artifacts and decorations populating the scenes having more human-like personality than the characters portrayed on screen. It's easily the worst work that I've seen by Schlöndorff. Criterion, I know that you have this on Hulu, but please, please, please keep it buried there!

[Mr Sausage]

Jeremy Irons stars in this French language production as Charles Swann in this adaptation of the middle part of Marcel Proust's "Remembrance" series.

It's actually only the middle section of the first of the seven books, Swann's Way. That chapter forms a little novel in the heart of Proust's inaugural book, ideal for adapting. I remember liking the movie, actually, although I saw it well before I read the books. Who knows what I'd think of it now. It's probably nowhere near as lyrical or funny. Alain Delon is a perfect Baron de Charlus, tho'.

[zedz]

Viewing Log:

City of Pirates (Raoul Ruiz, 1983): In perhaps the oddest film by Ruiz that I've seen yet. . .

Just you wait.

City of Sadness (Hsiao-hsien Hou, 1989): To say that the film is dense would be an understatement. Hou makes use of every second of screen time, often telling a story through glances and facial expressions, rather than dialogue. I won't say that I understood it all. In fact, I think that I missed as much as I absorbed, but from my reading on the film, this seems to be a fairly common reaction for its initial viewing by Western audiences. It undoubtedly merits another screening and hopefully soon!

Your observations about the economy and subtlety of Hou's storytelling are spot on. A Summer at Grandpa's is relatively straightforward (and none the worse for it), but most of his other films exhibit the same total immersion and absence of conventional exposition. But they're definitely not designed to be obscure or inaccessible, and watching them a second or third time it can be absolutely amazing how much clearer important relationships and offscreen plot developments can be.

Swann in Love (Volker Schlöndorff, 1984): Well, the film's chief problem is that it's dreadfully boring, lacking of the magic of Proust's book (to be fair, I can't really judge this having not read any of them).

Well, I've never seen this film, so that makes us even! The 'magic' of Proust's book is almost antithetical to conventional film forms. The narrative is immensely drawn out, often internalized, and intensely detailed, and the experience of characters aging and changing within the story is inflected by the time the reader has to invest in reading it (we're recreating Marcel's 'lost time', minute by minute). And Proust's prose embodies those greater qualities at the level of style, consisting of enormously extended and complex (yet lucid) sentences that submerge and surface through multiple levels of discursiveness as they evolve. The act of keeping suspended in our minds all the dozens of characters and details and their relationships that accumulate throughout the volumes is mirrored at every moment by the (delightful) mental effort of parsing and processing the fabulously complicated sentence structures that we're drowning in.

If I were imagining a strict filmic equivalent, it would have to be a film that ran for days and consisted of extremely long, deftly choreographed tracking shots that were dominated by intimate details of decor and gesture rather than conventional establishing long shots, and which could unexpectedly shift into flashback, or change location, or adopt another point of view, in the middle of an uninterrupted shot. So, for all intents and purposes, you'd reasonably assume that the book is unfilmable. Until you see Ruiz's elegant solution in Time Regained - which is where we came in.

[zedz]

I see I haven't nominated a spotlight title yet.

Inevitably, it's The Terrorizer, by Edward Yang. This topped my list last time, topped my list the time before that, and will top my list again. I can't conceive that I'll see a better 80s film before the end of this project. In fact, I'll be surprised and delighted if I see a better film from any era before I die!

And, amazingly, since the last 80s List Project, the film has actually been released in a good edition with English subtitles on BluRay and DVD (though the Blu seems to now be OOP).

The oblique exposition discussed above in relation to Hou's City of Sadness is present in an even more elaborate and perfected form here: the film is chock full of meaningful recoverable narrative information, and the more you work at it, the more it yields. Reconstruct the movements and motivations of minor characters, and everything adds up; piece together the specific geography of an apartment, and you'll find additional character insights; pay attention to offscreen space and Yang will fill it for you. The film invites and rewards alert, curious viewing, and at the same time it delivers pure cinema coups worthy of Godard and Wong Kar-wai. When I saw this film for the second time in 1987 (this is one of those masterpieces that can't be seen, but only re-seen), it was the best film I'd ever seen, and the only film I've seen since then that's better was Yang's next film, but that's a subject for another List Project.

[knives]

For the lazy amongst us is there a link to either DVD or Blu ray.

[jindianajonz]

For the lazy amongst us is there a link to either DVD or Blu ray.

Here's the DVD on yesasia (beats the Amazon.com price) but I'm not finding the blu-ray...

[zedz]

Here's the (currently unavailable) Taiwanese DVD / BluRay - I don't know if anybody can provide a link to somewhere that still has this in stock.

Here's an in-print Korean DVD. It was released at around the same time, so hopefully it has the same transfer, but confirmation of this would be most welcome.