1970s List Discussion and Suggestions (Lists Project Vol. 3)

[Tommaso]

Deadlock (Roland Klick, 1970): This feels like a Sergio Leone western played as a kammerspiel. This unusual German film with a psychedelic soundtrack by Can came as surprise for me. While the set-up of the story makes it a suspenseful drama (young man has stolen money, is found wounded in the desert by a sleazy guy who lives in a deserted desert settlement, and both get into trouble when the young man's boss arrives to get the money), the film also feels somewhat like Wenders-avant-la-lettre with its depictions of the white desert while at the same time isn't unlike Antonioni in its pessimism. Very strong performances, especially by Mario Adorf as the rough, ugly guy who is in the end too good-natured and not clever enough to win the fight. Great blocking and camerawork, but gritty enough not to be mistaken for pure arthouse stuff a la the 'New German film' which Klick seems to have opposed. It instead almost has an archaic, archetypal feel. No wonder Jodorowsky loved this film.

[zedz]

I'm really only posting in this thread when I see a jaw-dropping masterpiece for the first time, so it would be remiss if I didn't tell all those of you who don't already know how incredible Istvan Gaal's The Falcons is.

The film eventually reveals itself as a political allegory of sorts, which is something you might have suspected all along, but it wears that mantle extremely lightly because of the extreme specificity of its detail. It's much more an intensely observed film about falconry than it is a parable of totalitarianism. And it's a bravura technical display by Gaal from start to finish, ranging from extended tracking shots (indoors and outdoors, and sometimes both) to sequences of harried montage.

I've read in the past that Miklos Jansco attributed his singular style to the Hungarian landscape - which I always felt was bullshit: after all, there were no classic Hollywood westerns shot like that - but with this film I can sort of see what he means. Although the film is radically different from Jansco's work in most respects, there are shots and sequences that are remarkably reminiscent of his eccentric tropes, even down to the circling horses. And I can also see that the vast, flat, featureless plains do lend themselves to certain kinds of shots. Buildings are isolated; enclosures are few. There must be a strong temptation to just spin around on your axis to take it all in, and also to plant men on horseback into the landscape in order to create a landscape to photograph.

The new Hungarian DVD of this boasts a beautiful transfer and strong extras, all with English subs.

[YnEoS]

Lee Tso Nam

Chinese Boxing (1972 or 1974)
Chinese Kung Fu Against Godfather (1974)
Exit the Dragon, Enter the Tiger (1976)
The Hot, the Cool and the Vicious (1976)
Eagle's Claw (1977)
Fist of Fury 2 (1977)
Green Jade Statuette (1978)
Fatal Needles Vs. Fatal Fists (1978)
Challenge of Death (1978)
The Tattoo Connection (1978)
Edge of Fury (1978)
Phantom Kung Fu (1978 or 1979)
Shaolin Invincible Sticks (1979)
Mission Kiss and Kill (1979)

Lee Tso Nam is considered by many kung fu fans to be one of the most talented of the independent directors. Although his films are really sparse and low budget even by indie standards, they’re memorable for their close and careful attention to story. He found the perfect collaborator in the brilliant fight choreographer Tommy Lee Gam Ming, who’s more subdued, less showy approach to fight scenes perfectly melded with Lee Tso Nam’s narrative focus. While their films don’t immediately pop out, they are rare in their lack of flaws and unevenness that frequently mire indie productions. Together they’ve created many masterpieces of the genre.

Lee Tso Nam began his film career working as an assistant director for Ding Sin Saai, before moving to directing in the early 70s. His earlier works were in more exploitative genres but show his focus and attention to narrative from the beginning and his Bruceploitation films are considered some of the most respectable of the genre. Chinese Boxing is a straight rip off Fist of Fury, but is unique in that it spends just as much time recreating the drama and tension of the original instead of solely focusing on the iconic moments. Chinese Kung Fu Against Godfather starts out as a really compelling story about a Chinese immigrant trying to get by in the Netherlands, but turns into a bland revenge tale while also tuning into the trend for topless European women spurred by films like Shaw Brother’s Sexy Girls of Denmark. Exit the Dragon, Enter the Tiger is Nam’s first collaboration with Bruce Li and is notable in that Li doesn’t pretend of be Bruce Lee, but rather plays a friend investigating his death. However the plot largely plays off the interest in conspiracy theories surrounding Bruce Lee’s death.

He then made his first collaboration with Tommy Lee, The Hot, the Cool and the Vicious, an unofficial follow up to Ng See Yuen’s The Secret Rivals which ignited the Korean super kicker craze. Ng See Yuen had had an unfriendly breakup with star Wong Tao and choreographer Tommy Lee and the pair split off to create their own film. They were too slow to bring the original film’s villain Hwang Jang Lee along with them, so Tommy Lee took the role of villain himself. They replaced John Liu’s part by casting his teacher Dorian Tan. The plot employs some Fistful of Dollars type tension with some plot twist embellishments that were popular in Chor Yuen’s adaptations of Gu Long’s Wuxia novels. Lee Tso Nam would stick pretty closely to this formula with minor alterations for the rest of the decade, incorporating new trends more subtley rather than completely changing his style to copy what was popular.

In 1977 he continued making slightly classier Bruceploitation films starring Bruce Li with Fist of Fury 2, this time casting Li as the brother of Lee’s character from the first movie. It’s considered one of the stronger entries in the sub-genre and features Lo Lieh as the villain, but I don’t find it as interesting as his other films in this period. The same year Lee Tso Nam made the film widely considered to be his masterpiece Eagle's Claw. There’s nothing new here, but it’s probably the perfect blend of compelling drama, intrigue, and outstanding fight scenes. Few other kung fu films have gotten all these elements to align so well.

In 1978 he pushed his approach to the two logical extremes before implementing some new trends. Green Jade Statuette is the purest distillation of his kung fu intrigue style and nearly every scene involves hired killers fighting for unknown benefactors as information is slowly hinted at and revealed. The film lacks any kind of simple revenge motivation, but gains some emotional resonance with its romantic view of the world of killers and some Chang Cheh style male bonding. On the other end of the spectrum Fatal Needles Vs. Fatal Fists sheds much of the intrigue and fight scenes to let Wong Tao stretch his acting muscles in a delightfully slow brooding kung fu drama.

This year he also did another film with Bruce Li, Edge of Fury, which is astonishingly not a Bruceploitation film despite being made the same year Game of Death was re-igniting the Bruce Lee craze. It’s a solid film and probably his best Bruce Li collaboration, but it doesn’t quite rise to the level of greatness. He also had a bit of an interesting misfire with The Tattoo Connection, which pairs American star Jim Kelly with Dorian Tan in a modern setting. The film has a strong opening scene and finale, but the middle misses the chance to build a relationship between the two and instead focuses on and poorly utilizes Kelly's charcter. Then with Challenge of Death Lee Tso Nam incorporates a bunch of new trends into his usual style, Animal Shapes, Gambling, Comedy! But instead of jumping all the way into the slapstick bandwagon like many other director’s Lee Tso Nam more subtlety incorporates the comedy into the narrative serving to build the relationship between Dorian Tan and Wong Tao’s characters.

In 1979 he continued developing these traits and experimenting with new ones. Phantom Kung Fu is his fullest foray into kung fu comedy and is either his worst film or secretly his best. It’s an elaborately costumed period intrigue with a bunch of somewhat comedic characters. Despite the overall silliness it plays the drama straight and lets its little gags evolve slowly over the course of the film. I found myself spending the majority of the film wondering what the hell I was watching, until finding I was completely absorbed in it by the end. It’s also got some of Tommy Lee’s best choreography sprinkled throughout.

Shaolin Invincible Sticks adds a heavy focus on weaponry, of the stick variety obviously. The film has its detractors, primarily due to a few uncharacteristically poorly incorporated comedy scenes. But otherwise its a lot of fun and showcases a really astonishing amount of weapons. Tommy Lee and Lee Tso Nam then parted ways and Mission Kiss and Kill was choreographed by the films co-star Blacky Ko. It’s pretty fight heavy and has a number of great set pieces that show off some really flashy fight choreography. The plot is more straightforward but there’s still some pretty great character interaction and a bit of Lee Tso Nam’s usual intrigue.

DVD Availability: Unfortunately very few of Lee Tso Nam’s films have a decent DVD release, and the absurdly cheap UK Disc of The Hot, The Cool, And The Vicious is the only widescreen subtitled release of one of his films I’m aware of. Several of his other films have superior versions available from bootleggers and on the backchannels.

[YnEoS]

Starting to get really burned out on all these Hong Kong and Taiwanese action movies. I should probably focus on other areas of 70s cinema, but the completion in me wants to keep focused. Maybe I'll just try and break up the viewings with a few Raul Ruiz films. Anyways, here are a few quick words about stuff I watched recently.


Lady With A Sword (Kao Pao Shu, 1971) - This was really great all around, fight choreography, story, and especially the editing stood out as being a lot smoother than other HK films I've seen from this period. I liked how the rape/revenge plot took place within an actual social context, I feel like a lot of lesser iterations of the genre don't really show many other aspects of the characters lives or the worlds they take place in, and obviously emphasize the exploitative aspects of the genre much more than what we see here. Really curious to see some of this director's indie films.

Twelve Golden Medallions (Ching Gong, 1970) - This was lots of fun, there are a number of interesting aspects about this film. But the part that stood out for me was all the teahouse/show of power scenes. You'd think I'd get tired of these after seeing so many iterations of these type of scenes, but I'm always amused by the number of different iterations they take. This film especially had some really fun ideas, and I appreciated the attention to detail to illustrate the amount of force being exerted in a lot of these scenes. Really great way of bringing to life these characters with superhuman strengths without feeling too much like a bunch of film tricks.

The Dream Sword (Li Chao Yung, 1979) - Wonderful Taiwanese Wuxia from the late 70s period, which I'm not extremely familiar with, but it felt a lot like late 60s/early 70s wuxia films but with more modern fight choreography. I'm really a sucker for these style of wuxia films that maintain the superhuman/fantastical aspects without going full on into crazy colorful costumes kids cartoon nightmare mode. And this film definitely does it better than most I've seen. One of the highlights that one character sports a rather large axe, and he's effectively choreographed against rapidly moving sword-fighters without looking fake or cheesy. I'd definitely think Taiwan's own brand of wuxia films deserve a whole lot more scrutiny. Linn Haynes did a really great write up on this film for a DVD release that never materialized, which is worth quoting.

Finding the Dream Sword

With the closing of Chang Cheh's Taiwanese production company, Chang's Film Co, many Shaw Brothers actors and workers found themselves at odds with what to do next. Most had remaining films on their contract with the Shaw Brothers, but the lure of increased money and freedom in Taiwan was great. While actors were often locked into long term contracts, many of those expired in the mid to late '70s. With the move of Pao Hsueh Lieh to the region in 1977, the former assistant to Chang Cheh acted as a bridge for Shaw Brothers personnel to work in the region in larger numbers. Taiwan soon became full of former Shaw Brothers alumni, including Shaw luminaries like Ti Lung, David Chiang, Yueh Hwa, etc. These and many other stars brought star power to Taiwanese made films at a time when the popularity of wuxia television productions began to spill over into film. For a brief time in the late '70s, Taiwan became a hub of wuxia film making outmatched only by Shaw Brothers Studios themselves.

Among the better of productions of the period was The Dream Sword (1979), a wuxia story about scholar Hsia Shang Chou (Tsung Hua), who after being refused marriage due to the disapproval of her family,a group known in the martial world as the “First Manor Under Heaven,” decides to even the score. Knowing he can't take revenge by himself, he enlists the aid of axe-toting Fan (Lung Fei) and enigmatic swordsman Li (Yueh Hua), who he devises moves for to counteract the family's kung fu. After several members of the Manor are defeated, the rest pool together all their strength to take on the trio. But like any good wuxia, answers aren't that simple and revenge is never straightforward.

The “dream sword” of the title is actually a term referring to the fighters the scholar uses to enact his revenge. They are in effect his “dream sword,” using moves he's dreamed up to defeat his enemies. Considering the source of the story, it's little wonder Lung Fei's character is a close cousin of the gregarious axe-wielding Black Whirlwind from the popular novel Outlaws of the Marsh's. Nearly stealing the show is Yuen Hwa as the ultra cool swordsman Li. With an interesting collection of wuxia character traits from sickness, to posing just before his killing stroke, the character is one of the more charismatic to be found in Taiwanese cinema at the time due to the actor's performance. While the story is confusing, as is often the norm with the genre, it's presented in such an episodic fashion it allows the viewer to easily digest what's happening. While the over use of zooms and cut frames may throw some viewers off, this one of the few films of it's type to actually have a solid story behind the action. The final twist, which won't be revealed here, is impressive if only because many attempted the same, but few could pull it off with such ease.

Released in Hong Kong on June 23, 1979, director Li Chao Yung made The Dream Sword between Souls of the Sword (1978) and Hero's Tears (1979), and the film is easily the best work of writer Hsiang Kin Chu and director Li Chao Yung. Li would follow up with Everlasting Chivalry (1980) using some of the same cast, but he never again matched the level of quality found in this production. Li Chao Yung ended his directing career with the mind bogglingly bad (but fun) Jade Dagger Ninja (1981). Action director Su Chen Ping is perhaps better known as a bit player for Taiwanese studios throughout the '70s, appearing in films such as One Armed Boxer (1971) and 18 Bronzemen(1976). Produced by Pearl Chang Ling's Chang Ling Productions, the star of Wolf Devil Woman is one of the great unsung females of Taiwanese kung fu cinema. During the late '70s through late '80s, she produced and directed nearly a dozen films. The Dream Sword was one of a couple of films from her production company with similar style and tone. Invincible Swordswoman (1977) and My Blade, My Life (1982, actually made earlier) share some of the same locations, actors, and settings.

Long considered a bit of a lost classic of wuxia cinema, this Greenfan release is the first time the film has been shown to fans in a worthwhile presentation. The movie is certainly one of the better entries into the often confusing world of Taiwanese wuxia films, and a perfect entry point for kung fu fans interested in the genre.

[Cold Bishop]

Twelve Golden Medallions (Ching Gong, 1970) - ...the part that stood out for me was all the teahouse/show of power scenes.

The best of which is the villain's ability to pour water out of jug, and force it to bore a hole through glass and wood.

This is why I love this film: yes, it has this dramatic depth, fatalism and subversive edge which can make someone approach it on the level of a "serious film". But its also true to the genre's sense of fantasy and entertainment. To some degree, I think its a perfect primer into the genre above many of the usual suspect: One-Armed Swordsman, which was influential precisely because it strayed from the genre's key sense of magic. Or A Touch of Zen, which works at such a high level of philosophical depth and visual elegance that I'm not sure it really gives you an accurate picture of the wuxia pian's more common, pulpier pleasures.

I'm always curious to hear more about Taiwanese wuxias, especially the post Chor Yuen ones, which seem to leave such a blank spot on most accounts of the genre (Second perhaps only to unavailability of the era's wuxia television). Even sniffing out recommendations is difficult: most are so hard to find, and then is so poor condition. And even then, they can be a mixed bag: I think some "collectors" value certain films for their obscurity more than their actual value.

However, the absolute best Taiwanese (discounting King Hu) I've seen is the Gu Long-scripted Sword of Justice (Hui Sing-Yue,1980), which really gives Shaw a run for their money in the "Swordplay & Intrigue" mode. It is also a rare example of a film's lack of restoration helping it. The film as it currently stands is bathed in these vivid monochromatic sepia tones. It's like Sokurov filmed a wuxia or something...

[YnEoS]

This is why I love this film: yes, it has this dramatic depth, fatalism and subversive edge which can make someone approach it on the level of a "serious film". But its also true to the genre's sense of fantasy and entertainment. To some degree, I think its a perfect primer into the genre above many of the usual suspect: One-Armed Swordsman, which was influential precisely because it strayed from the genre's key sense of magic. Or A Touch of Zen, which works at such a high level of philosophical depth and visual elegance that I'm not sure it really gives you an accurate picture of the wuxia pian's more common, pulpier pleasures.

I was actually thinking when I was watching it that it would be a good example of a wuxia from this period for the uninitiated. Though I have had good experiences introducing people via One-Armed Swordsman at 35mm screenings, where admittedly a big screen and receptive audience adds a lot to the experience, especially for earlier less editing heavy HK films. It probably wouldn't be the first DVD I'd show to someone though.

[matrixschmatrix]

Night Moves takes a while to move into the mode I thought it would operate in throughout- it feels more like a character study during the first half, with strangely funky music and a character who doesn't necessarily seem to have many traits in either particular direction. And it deepens, not in the plotty way one would expect from a noir, even a Long Goodbye or Chinatown-esque neonoir- though I think it fits in with those two well- but through spending time with Hackman's character, helpful since he's playing someone with surface similarities to The Conversation's Harry Caul but with any number of nuanced differences. It's not even the plotting that feels like character work trick, though that's in there too- it's a chance to see the degree to which Harry Moseby is, in his way, a genuinely decent man, if a badly flawed one, and how that decency operates in a world overrun with good ol' boy corruption and easy, patriachal conclusions about who fits in and who should have what role.

It's a sign of a great movie when the Lolita-esque teenage sexbomb character winds up being neither a cold hearted villain nor entirely a victim- she's a kid who doesn't entirely know what she wants, true, but also a rounded character who feels like a person with real traits beyond flashing her body at every opportunity. Moseby's marriage, its near disintegration and recovery, likewise feels like a textbook noir plot arrested near the end, put on a new course, and infused with real humanity. It's a movie where the death of the final Evil Enemy is as tragic a moment as any other death, and where the real villain seems to be human frailty and the things that should have happened differently; why waste time with hatred, really?

I think I'm going to have to watch it again to get a real grasp on it, but at first blush it feels very much in league with the great, bleak, existential movement of the decade, and amongst the best of that grouping. It certainly strikes me more than Bonnie and Clyde did on my most recent viewing, though that's still a movie I love. It's hard to know what to say about it, since so much of what makes it powerful is not in the broad strokes- though those work- but in the tiny details of character and place, like the way that Paula blows out her facemask before diving, and the rusted out piece of shit beach car she drives.

[knives]

Glad to see Night Moves get some love. My theory on the Bonnie and Clyde thing, especially when considering his previous movie, is that it simply presents its complexities in a more comfortable way. Bad is sexy, authority is villainous in feel, etc. It's a complex movie, but with that complexity directed to accepted truths toward a supposed subversion. With Night Moves that complex way of dealing with things is being attached to a much more uncomfortable idea which I think you summed up perfectly as human frailty. I suppose there's some nihilism to where it discovers its humanism, but ultimately even with that gut punch ending the film's morality is more wry than that term suggests and might be better looked at as truly Nietzschian. We damn ourselves in the pursuit of good and yet should continue that pursuit till the end.

[swo17]

This is just a heads-up/reminder that for two weeks starting on Monday, the forum's film club will be tied in with our '70s project, and the lucky film we'll be discussing is Carlos Saura's Cría cuervos... Perhaps our immersion in other films from the era will help us provide a unique perspective in this discussion, like about whatever qualities this film might share with wuxia/erotica.

[YnEoS]

So I lied about taking a break from Kung Fu and Wuxia

The Black Tavern (Teddy Yip, 1972) - This was outstanding, literally not a dull moment from beginning to end. Great tension, great choreography, strong characterization with a large cast and short run-time, and probably one of the hardest things to pull off an actual terrifying villain.

[matrixschmatrix]

All The President's Men probably looks different to me now than it would have if I'd watched it before I got my current job- I'm an insurance adjuster, and I spend 90% of the work time that isn't sitting around writing reports calling people, going to their houses to try to talk to them, doing my best to stay polite in the face of increasing rudeness or reluctance to say anything, and trying to find places in which to look up the stuff I need. So the action of this, the investigative process, is incredibly familiar, with the primary difference being that when I do my job, I'm doing my due diligence to get all the information that's available- these guys care, and as such push a lot of interactions way beyond where I'd be comfortable. I'm not sure I'm supposed to spend the whole scene where Hoffman is pumping the bookkeeper feeling as awkward as I do when I'm in someone's living room and I know they want me out, but that was absolutely where my head went there. That said, it takes something pretty impressive to make the investigative process that I do every day exciting, no matter how big the stakes, and the movie absolutely does that. It's a case of getting the influences in the wrong order, but it reminded me strongly of Zodiac, but without the near action scenes the murders provided to the first half of Fincher's movie. It's just all step-by-step detective work, following closely enough that there's no trouble with understanding the logic of a given move or the importance of a given piece of information, but never feeling like dull exposition.

There's a sort of lost romance to a real, working newspaper room, too, albeit one pretty removed from His Girl Friday. There's a bit of an irony to the way that this movie has, from our heroes' perspective, a happy ending- the movie that actually tells the Watergate story must perforce break with the post-Watergate malaise of the Night Moves/Conversation/Long Goodbye school of ultimately meaningless investigations and protagonists spiraling into nothingness, and it's anchored by a real and solid faith in the newspaper institution- something that Zodiac actually does ultimately counter, to some extent. It's something I think I'll need to watch again to stop being distracted by the methodology of it and how it differs from my own (and makes me feel badly for not working as hard as these guys do) but there's no question that it's ultimately a great film.

[swo17]

Variant edits: For films that exist in multiple versions (e.g. Welles' Mr. Arkadin, Rivette's Out 1), all votes that don't specify a "secondary" version will be counted toward the "primary" version.

Putting this rule to the test, do Alan Clarke's two versions of Scum count as variant edits of each other?

And before you go and say "it doesn't matter, no one will ever vote for anything other than the TV version," I present the following: I happened to watch the film version first and ended up preferring it to the TV version. I'd wager that preference is likely to side with whichever version you are first exposed to. If anyone who hasn't seen either version wants to help me test this theory, all of you with a last name beginning with A-L, go watch them both (right now!) starting with the TV version. And everyone else, go and watch them in the other order. Then report back (or you'll get a lashing).

[domino harvey]

Isn't this how the Stanford Prison Experiment started?

[swo17]

You say that as if it's a bad thing.

[colinr0380]

Scum doesn't exist as two variant edits of the exact same material but in two different productions (the BBC television version and the theatrical version that was made a couple of years later after the BBC banned the first from being broadcast), which is a slightly different thing.

It has been a few years since I last watched either version so I might be misremembering, but I think that I'm of the opposite opinion. The TV version feels rougher and rawer but in a good way while the film version is strangely slightly glossier and there is the sense of the repetition of the material having led to the actors having gotten a bit too comfortable in the arc of their roles and their performances, which isn't really the best thing for a subject that involves characters being thrown into horrible situations and the daily realities of sudden and unexpected outbursts of shockingly brutal violence.

The rape scene in the greenhouse is a bit more graphic in the film version, taking advantage of slightly looser censorship in the cinema; yet the scene of Winstone's character doing some pragmatic sexual bartering over one of the weaker inmates that I seem to remember only being present in the BBC TV version, is perhaps more impactful and less calculated to be just a shock moment.

Yet both versions are worthwhile - I had only seen the cinema version (ironically through television screenings!) for around a decade before getting to see the BBC version in the Blue Underground set, and while I prefer the slightly rawer BBC version, the cinema version still conveyed most of the intended story points. In a way the BBC version is capturing the moment with relatively amateur actors while the cinema version is trying to impossibly re-capture a recreation of that moment with a by now more seasoned cast in order to get the material out to audiences after the BBC ban, and it is pretty impressive it managed to repeat the experience as much as it did despite all of that.

[MichaelB]

yet the scene of Winstone's character doing some pragmatic sexual bartering over one of the weaker inmates that I seem to remember only being present in the BBC TV version, is perhaps more impactful and less calculated to be just a shock moment.

Ray Winstone asked for that scene to be dropped in the remake because he was worried about coming across as "a poof" to his mates. He now admits that this was a mistake, and that Carlin is a less interesting character in the film because of it.

Another reason why I tend to prefer the BBC version is that everyone was two years younger, and therefore seem much more vulnerable. The fact that the same actors are mostly involved (with one major exception: David Threlfall was replaced by Mick Ford) accentuates this.

[zedz]

Variant edits: For films that exist in multiple versions (e.g. Welles' Mr. Arkadin, Rivette's Out 1), all votes that don't specify a "secondary" version will be counted toward the "primary" version.

Putting this rule to the test, do Alan Clarke's two versions of Scum count as variant edits of each other?

No, they're completely different films: recast, reshot, reedited. The issue was that the BBC owned the original film and would not show it. So Clarke had to start from scratch.

[zedz]

This Is How It Shall Pass (Andras Jeles, 1970) - While watching the DVD of Jeles' Little Valentino, I knew it would be a contender for my 70s list and that I'd have to promote it here. It's a beautifully made film, taking its lead from Godard's more sociological sixties work (like Vivre sa vie and Masculin / Feminin) but, in my opinion, is much more adventurous in its use of non-naturalistic sound and on-screen texts. The film follows a remarkably passive protagonist over the course of a day in which he basically does a single (rather important) thing. It explores the drawn-out mechanics of his action, but none of its consequences, and (like Loznitsa's My Joy) it's a film that seems to be perpetually tempted by other, more promising protagonists that cross its path, and will sometimes dally with them for a minute or two before being drawn back to the sullen adolescent gravity of its original lead. According to the commentary on the disc, the film as originally shot actually did follow many of those side paths, and ran about four hours - all that footage now lost. The scheme does, however, deliver
one of the most exquisite non sequitur endings that I've ever seen, in which

Spoiler

the film seems to - finally - decisively break free from its protagonist by following another guy onto a streetcar and then, quite unexpectedly, begins to break into an entirely different film, shot in an entirely different and much more dynamic style, just as the streetcar disappears into the night and the film draws to a close.

A highly impressive film, but the real find was among the three extra shorts attached to the disc (on which everything bears English subs), an early documentary called This Is How It Shall Pass.

The film is basically little more than a talking head interview, shot in a rough and ready manner that belies its narrative and cinematic complexity. On a couple's wedding night, the husband disappears. His bride is charged with the murder, and confesses, but the body is never found and the circumstances of the killing remain murky. The film begins with the filmmakers confronting the convicted killer, Maria, with crime scene reenactment photos in which she and her family participated - her father and brothers holding the husband substitute down while she stabs him in the chest, that sort of thing - and the filmmakers ask her to describe the scenes represented by the photos. It's an extremely unnerving sequence, and not just because of the bizarre content of the photos and the dissonant electronic music that accompanies it. The real oddness comes from Maria's weird evasiveness. Even though she freely admits to the murder, it's almost as if she's bewildered by the scenes represented in the photos, and can't even see in them the simple actions and props that we see.

As the film unfolds, the disconnect increases. We also hear from the mother of the victim (who just wants to know where the body is) and the father of Maria, who denies any knowledge of what happened to the husband and tells us that the matching confessions provided by his family were all extracted through torture. We also learn that Maria had an incestuous relationship with one of her brothers which might, or might not, have something to do with everything. But nobody's prepared to talk about that. Through it all, Maria calmly persists in asserting her guilt, though perhaps that should really read "calmly, vaguely and obliquely."

The filmmakers clearly believe she is innocent, and end up imploring her directly to tell them what really happened. That's a mystery which is never solved, as is "where's the body?" - and so a new mystery coalesces to take their place: "why would anybody confess to a murder they didn't commit?" The filmmakers do have a hypothesis about this, which is never stated directly in the film, but is revealed in a marvellously oblique way in the final seconds of the film simply by subtly recontextualizing a couple of the non-answers Maria has been offering all along. Just as the film ends, an entirely different, quite possibly true, narrative shimmers into visibility, hinging on the ambiguity of a single word. It's a bit like the big twist of The Conversation, but without the tortured cheating of that film's reveal.

[swo17]

So evidently this project ends in exactly a month...but wouldn't it be better if it ended in two months?

Either way, I guess people can start PMing me lists whenever.

[domino harvey]

What if we just made the standard for Decade List Projects nine months instead of six, but with an understanding that there'll be no extensions? That'd push it to the end of March for this round, FYI. I mean, we always go over the arbitrary six month distinction anyways and nine months is of course a standard measurement for all humans thanks to that Hugh Grant movie

[knives]

I'll probably not be able to access my comp during the week this ends so if we move it forward hopefully we can decide before the 20th.

[swo17]

That'd push it to the end of March for this round, FYI.

It's actually been six months already--I secretly threw another month onto the deadline at the start and apparently no one noticed. Nine months would be the end of February, which is a time when I'm going to be way too busy at work to deal with tabulation duties. Plus, there are probably some who are anxious to wrap up this round and I wouldn't want to throw the carrot too far ahead of them. I think it's for the best to go no further than the end of January (if enough people are willing for there to be an extension).

Otherwise, I guess I'm game for nine-month deadlines as a default, though I'd like to hear from a few more people before deciding anything.

[matrixschmatrix]

I don't have an issue with that, but if you bump out to the end of February, I'm going to bump the Docs list deadline out to the end of March. brinksmanship 4eva

[Cold Bishop]

The best thing I can say to that suggestion is a) I might be able to finish my next two Shaw chapters in time to actually influence some views b) and hey, maybe I'll be able to watch and discuss some movies that have nothing to do with those genres!

As for the change, I don't know... It doesn't seem like the turnover between forum participants hasn't changed so drastically since the last '80s-'00s go around compared to some earlier decades. I guess the best argument is that we now have the Genre Projects and Film Club dividing attention. We should probably start setting hard, if acceptable deadlines at the beginning of each project, but 9 months seems excessive.

[YnEoS]

I'm in a similar position, I could use the extra time to finish up my guides and venture out a bit into other 1970s territory.