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Well Knives, it couldn't help but include some dynamite concert footage, and Sam Shepard co-wrote the script, so it must have some value, wouldn't you think. I imagine I would come out the other side much as I did when I watched "Eat The Document", somewhat enriched, but not chomping at the bit to recommend it. Still, "Renaldo and Clara" has a 1978 release date on imdb, so it does qualify for consideration.

Figure this deserves linking: Cold Bishop is doing a major overview of Shaw Brothers films from the 70's here. Well worth keeping an eye on. Shaw Brothers put out some essential films.

Yay! I've just seen an amazing film for the very first time.

Les Ordres (Michel Brault, 1974) - This is a Kafkaesque fable in which Canada turns into a police state overnight. Innocent civilians (and people who have the misfortune to live next door to them) are rounded up in their homes at machine-gun-point, without warrant, thrown into prison without being charged, and held there for days, weeks, months. They're never charged with any crime, or even informed what they're suspected of doing, but nevertheless have to undergo formless interrogations and mock executions. In form and content, it's very close to Peter Watkins' dark political fantasies The Gladiators and Punishment Park. Except that - holy shit! - this actually happened.

The film follows a bunch of composite characters based on a large number of interviews Brault undertook with the real-life victims, and each major character is introduced in pure Brechtian fashion by the actor playing them introducing themselves and explaining who they will be portraying. They then play their character both dramatically (in a scripted fiction based on the events of October 1970) and as if they were being interviewed for a documentary, talking retrospectively to camera. The film is occasionally interrupted by historical texts, and shifts from black and white to colour. None of these alienation effects hamper our visceral involvement in the action.

The film is beautifully shot and superbly acted (at least some of the main cast are non-actors, but I'm pretty sure nobody is actually playing themselves, or a version of themsleves), and it's extremely tense. Much as I admire a lot of Watkins' work, this film is much more sharply focussed and emotionally engaging (and, I'd suggest, politically engaged, since it actually gets its teeth right into an actual contemporary issue on its home turf).

There are a couple of contemporary reviews included in the book that accompanies the Brault box set that single out the film's shift from black-and-white to colour as "arbitrary", which only goes to show how incredibly dim-witted a lot of film reviewers are. This was a formal choice that I wanted to talk about, and until I read those reviews I doubted that anybody could watch the film and miss its significance, but since it seems to be a mystery for at least some viewers, I'll spoiler tag it:

Spoiler

The first 50 minutes or so of the film is entirely in crisp black and white; much of the balance is in drab colour. The black-and-white world is the real world in which the characters live; the colour world is the Kafkaesque nightmare world of incarceration. You'd think this would be blindingly obvious when a character's narration describes the dehumanizing processing into prison as a process of forcing them into grey clothes, giving them grey blankets etc just as the film shifts into colour for the first time. Then the next character undergoes the same process and the film shifts back into black and white momentarily, then into colour when they're stripped of their identity. Later, when the first character is released from prison, a continuous shot shifts from colour to black and white at the very point she walks through the prison gates. Do you really think Brault could have made his schema any plainer? Every shot of the characters in prison is in colour; every shot of them free is black and white - it's completely consistent throughout the entire film.

So why does he do this? Partly it's the formal challenge of shooting a colour film that's stripped of colour: there are no primaries in the prison sequences. It's also a reversal of the expected schema (i.e. making the 'stripping of colour' metaphor literal) and in fact the absence of colour in the prison is made much more striking by the perversity of Brault's choice. Several of the characters speak about how utterly disorienting the experience was, and that kind of radical shift makes this concrete. The choice also makes the delicate pink of naked flesh the most colourful element and focal point of most compositions, which emphasizes the characters' vulnerability. The big payoff of the choice comes when one of the characters is released temporarily to see his dead father, and, even though he travels far from the prison, the film remains in colour because he remains wholly within the legal and existential limbo of his imprisonment.

A fantastic film, this will certainly be making my top 50 for the decade.

If I make a list, Brault's film will be very high on it. I was absolutely stunned by the film itself -- and its (unfortunately-continued) timeliness.

Have you seen the Francis Mankiewicz-directed, Brault-filmed "Les bons débarras" (1979) (Good Riddance). Another stunner -- the most distressing and creepy domestic (not supernatural and non-bloody) "horror film" I've seen -- about a middle-school girl who is just a bit too possessive of her single mother.

No I haven't. The attendant documentaries in the set make me aware that there's a lot of very promising Canadian cinema that I haven't seen.

zedz wrote:No I haven't. The attendant documentaries in the set make me aware that there's a lot of very promising Canadian cinema that I haven't seen.

It's up on youtube if you're curious.

Viewing Log:

Diary of a Mad Housewife (Frank Perry, 1970): I've been searching for this one for years, but was under the false impression that it was going to be a melodrama akin to something like The Pumpkin Eater. While dealing with the same weighty issues of alienation, melancholy, and objectification, the two films couldn't be further apart. Perry's tale of a disaffected housewife's (Carrie Snodgress) dalliance with a gruff Norman Mailer-esque New York writer (Frank Langella in his biggest role to date) triggered by her bratty kids and obsessive social climbing husband (Richard Benjamin) is a darkly comic tale with Snodgress's Tina going from an affectless drone to a fully fleshed out person. Indeed, Snodgress was the single best aspect of the film, making me feel sad when it was over that we'll never get another role out of her and that she didn't get better work while alive. Don't get me wrong. The film itself is quite good, but Snodgress was terrific.

The Fatal Flying Guillotines (Raymond Lui, 1977): In this knock off prequel to Master of the Flying Guillotine we get a rather incoherent story (at least I had a hard time following it all) concerning a young man in search of a cure for his dying mother. When things don't go as planned, he goes out on a mission of revenge against those who wronged his family leading eventually to his father (I think) who is a mad hermit that kills anyone who comes near his valley home with the film's titular weapons. Aside from the flying guillotine, this film had no discernible connection to the one that it ripped off. The action was fun, but on the whole the film was nowhere close to the level of other two in the series. I'd recommend giving it a pass.

The Iron Rose (Jean Rollin, 1973): Well, it finally happened. After making my way through the pits of his lesbian vampire films, I've finally found a Jean Rollin's film that I really enjoyed. The film, which only has two characters, features a pair of young lovers who during a day of getting to know one another make the fateful decision to explore a cemetery. The two spend too much time making love in an abandoned crypt, and soon find that they cannot find their way out of the graveyard. While nothing overtly supernatural ever takes place (though it can be interpreted that way without much of a stretch), Rollins does an admirable job of keeping the tense atmosphere moving along as one of the pair descends into madness. It's no masterpiece, but it is the best that I've ever come across in his oeuvre.

One-Armed Boxer (Yu Wang, 1972): The first film in the One-Armed Boxer series finds Jimmy Wang Yu writing, directing, and starring in this film about an evil martial arts school that uses false testimony as a reason to slaughter a rival school. In the aforementioned scene, the evil schoolmaster hires a colorful group of international mercenaries (Tibetan monks, Thai boxers, etc.) to attack the students where they systematically slaughter them, seemingly killing them all. Unfortunately for them, the karate chop that claimed Yu Tien Lung's arm(!) failed to kill him, and he then spend many long months training (in a hilarious montage) to get revenge on the murders. Despite the comic nature of some of the scenes, this is a hell of a fun martial arts flick. Definitely worth checking out and I would love to see Cold Bishop's take on it in his Shaw Brothers write up.

State of Siege (Costa-Gavras, 1972): Another political thriller from the Greek master of the genre finds an American embassy worker who trained Latin American death squads in torture, kidnapped by a group of freedom fighters (or terrorists depending what side of the ideological divide you're on) who hold him hostage. Although the director's own sympathies are not too hard to deduce, he goes through great lengths to humanize both sides (at least the kidnapped in the case of the government) as well as show the evil that they've wrought. In the last decades project I had a Costa-Gavras film clock in at number two. In this one, I'll have another that'll likely be in the top ten for this decade, but this one ain't it. It's not that this film is bad by any stretch of the imagination, but it doesn't rank among the director's best.

bamwc2 wrote:One-Armed Boxer (Yu Wang, 1972)... Definitely worth checking out and I would love to see Cold Bishop's take on it in his Shaw Brothers write up.

It's possible, but it kind of falls out of my mandate. It's worth noting that the film was essentially a remake of his own landmark The Chinese Boxer (a movie that can make a pretty strong claim as the first proper kung-fu film). As was King Boxer, which may very well have been Shaw's attempt to answer Wang Yu's rip-off with one of their own.

When Wang Yu is directing himself, you're usually in for a pretty good film. He really wasn't respected for his directorial work - he probably still isn't - but his over-the-top "comic book" approach to the genre is never less than entertaining. However, it's the unusually mature, Kurosawa-inspired Beach of the War Gods which is probably his masterpiece.

Directors Guide Part 4

George Roy Hill
A Little Romance (1979)----Warners R1 (highly compressed)
Slap Shot (1977)-----------Universal
The Great Waldo Pepper (1975)----Universal R1
The Sting (1973)---------------Universal
Slaughterhouse-Five (1972)-------Universal

It's pretty amazing the turn around Hill had this decade compared to last where he seemed completely unable to leave behind the theater amongst other bothersome elements. Straight away with his dynamic adaptation of Slaughterhouse-Five we get something entirely new with cinematic toyings that are never obnoxious and in year face. It's a sort of classical approach to new wave personalities that fortunately keeps him light throughout which if last decade proved anything is a thankful approach indeed. The Sting gets all of the glory after his last pairing with his two leads and it deserves most of it for successfully pulling off what should be the worst ending of all time. That said even in this small of a career the fun had here should just be a footnote with his next swing at bat perfecting this light old timey style which is still rough in '73. Despite its very basic nature and even fairly down to earth thrills The Great Waldo Pepper is probably the grandest turning point of Hill's cinema and marks the beginning of his best run. In trying to do nothing more than making a '30s film for a '70s audience he churns out probably the best American ode to the form ever and presents the bedrock of which Tarantino would later build. Slap Shot is rather different coming across more like a Ritchie or even Robert Aldrich film than anything Hill ever tried. It really seems to be trying to conform to its star with the magic of Hill coming into how he softens the edges making it clear why the various people of the movie continue to populate its hemisphere (I also suspect he's the key to how come Strother Martin looks and acts like he came out of a Preston Sturges movie). With a quiet patient band A Little Romance ends this all in what could be considered the definitive and perfect George Roy Hill film what with its young yet taken seriously love and its cinematic approach to life if not for Olivier's undercooked ham of a performance which seems to be present only to have a famous actor sell the movie with. Ignoring that tragedy though this film pulls off miracle after miracle indebted to Truffaut while erasing his worst aspects. Starring children actors, some unprofessional, and yet the screen is alive in a way most adult actors can't succeed in. Hell, it even manages to stay honest about life for the young, old, and in between even while having nothing close to an honest aspect in the bones of the narrative.

Brian DePalma
The Fury (1978)---------20th Century Fox R1/ Arrow Blu RB
Carrie (1976)-------------MGM
Obsession (1976)------Arrow Blu R0
Phantom of the Paradise (1974)-----Opening (France) Blu R0
Sisters (1973)-----------Criterion R1
Get to Know Your Rabbit (1972)-------Warner Archive DVDR
Hi, Mom! (1970)-----MGM R1
Dionysus (1970) ------------Carlotta

In everything except public release date Dionysus is '60s De Palma and all the curiosity that suggests. The primary reason to see it (available on Ubuweb) is William Finley's titan of a performance. Hi, Mom! is far closer to the rest of De Palma's '70s sensibilities though it even has its ties to the past sort of being a sequel to Greetings. The movie remains a heightened poke at De Palma which gradually morphs into the metatextual social commentary via the layering of artforms that he's now famous for. The performance art in white face sequence for instance plays off of how these living theater performances are done and how we watch film separated from the life that this theater is espousing in a way seemingly making the scene redundant, but more so questioning how such theater can succeed. All the while it manages to focus on the societal issues it brings up in a completely close up and 'real' way that allows the intent to be played straight. Scenes like that just continue to wrap around until they're the world's largest rubber band ball. Get to Know Your Rabbit, his last straight comedy of the decade, has pretty clearly been tinkered with without De Palma overseeing as the film misses many of his best tricks as it goes along, but the adventurous counter culture spirit manages to shine through in a genuine if self questioning sort of way leaving the end Frankenstein a hilarious and worthwhile mess. Sisters is Sisters, the horror monstrosity that helped gain him mainstream success without, for now, compromising his weirder aspects. It's a very good film, but in a career of them nothing beyond age stands out as particularly unique. Phantom of the Paradise on the other hand is possibly the best film of his career. It's a step away from the social concerns of the past two films and full on jump into doing everything cinema can do from fantastic music (damn if any musician had a better '70s than Paul Williams), fantastic colours, fantastic camera work (the split scene explosion is to die for), fantastic use of every genre, fantastic manipulation of the audience through the history of cinema most notably Terence Fisher's work and Psycho, and finally the best performance to come out of a De Palma film with William Finley's sorrowful ghost of a man. Obession seems to be a masterpiece against the previous one carrying a sedate and tired grimace fitting its new leading man. We've already had lots of talk about this film all through the forum, but if nothing else it deserves a watch to see how that scores works. After such hard work it's understandable that De Palma chills out a little with Carrie. The film is very enjoyable improving on the original work in every way, but outside the final sequence the film is De Palma resting on his laurels. Though that's the positive side to a slumming De Palma with The Fury showing the negative. It's not so much a bad film as one that is so helplessly mediocre that even when not competing with other works like Cronenberg's Scanners the poor thing just flops like a fish.

Arthur Penn
The Missouri Breaks (1976)------------------MGM R1
Night Moves (1975)---------Warners R1
Visions of Eight (1973) (segment "Hightest, The")-------Olive R1
Little Big Man (1970)---------Paramount Blu RA

Poor Art Penn's career seems like it was over as soon as it began. Despite making so many masterpieces and cultural touchstones it appears as if he was thrown away before he could make his one masterpiece. Even a film which I feel is so lopsided such as Little Big Man proves a certain degree by sheer force of will. Unfortunately for some weird reason that seems like the last time he was allowed to carry a film absolutely. In a five year break from features all Penn has to show for it is a fairly good documentary short from an above average anthology film. The Highest sets the norm of tone for Visions of Eight which actually has three masterpieces sewn in from Schelsinger's attempt at sci-fi brilliance to Ichikawa's prime revisiting of the Olympics and Forman's bizarre food fest. Only Mai Zetterling's segment falls flat with a seeming confusion on what to do on her part. When Penn finally got another feature off the ground though it turns out to be a perfect film as if he never stopped shooting Bonnie and Clyde. Night Moves is by my money easily the most successful new noir getting as grimy as it gets before ending the universe. With that force of nothing left to live for it is almost predictable that Brando who Penn previously could corral would just railroad right over him until we're left with two films called The Missouri Breaks: Nicholson's boring days being boring and Brando's poop fetish. There's a certain charm left over just because of how weird the film is that leaves a likable taste in the mind even if there's no mistaking this as a good movie.

John Frankenheimer
Prophecy (1979)-------------Paramount R1 (OOP)
Black Sunday (1977)---------Paramount R1 (OOP)
French Connection II (1975)------------20th Century Fox Blu RA
99 and 44/100% Dead (1974)----------Shout Factory R1
The Iceman Cometh (1973)-----------------------Kino
Story of a Love Story (1973)-----------N/A
The Horsemen (1971)------------------Sony R1 (OOP)
I Walk the Line (1970)-----------Sony R1 (OOP)

Being his last film film before laving to Europe it only makes sense for I Walk the Line to be cold and nerve trapped, but even that doesn't prepare for the silently existential horror that this tale of Gregory Peck breaking bad leaves one. In the course of a 'romance' just by virtue of being a town shifts to a suspended amorality. That darkness shifts to a more awe inspired sense though one still filled with self doubt in The Horsemen. Frankenheimer's own need to prove something immaterial to himself gives the film an added potency even if it is far from being one of his best films. It at least manages to be fascinating as it gets lost in the madness. As a side note I'm curious how much of the animal violence is real as the lack of a UK release has me curious. Story of a Love Story is probably his artiest film since Seconds shifting about with time and notions of being in a way that distracts from the flaws the film suffers from. As a sort of return home The Iceman Cometh benefits once again from how it reflects its creator though this time even the actors get in on the funny business of being the movie. This long run of suicidal self realizations is broken up by the completely estranged, totally idiosyncratic, blistering pop of 99 and 44/100% Dead. Completely unwilling to be tied to the genre successes of the past this film could have been Frankenheimer instead has fun, something he's so been lacking this decade, until the creaks of suffering are completely worn off. Not a moment too soon either as French Connection II shifts into his most autobiographical film yet with his debilitating alcoholism replaced with cocaine. Frankenheimer would not get his happy ending for an other large sum of years, but this purge at least can smile brightly knowing it topped the more popular first film in every way. Things slow down and start to muck up with Black Sunday. Despite being a high achievement for most its clear that Frankenheimer was falling and fast. That sloppiness gives the movie an edge that only serves to blur the distinctions of hero and villain all the more. From that gorgeous implosion we're left the horrible remains in the form of Prophecy, an environmental horror film whose only scares come from how badly people who should know better are doing. Such a pitiful way to end such a marvelous decade.

knives wrote:That darkness shifts to a more awe inspired sense though one still filled with self doubt in The Horsemen. Frankenheimer's own need to prove something immaterial to himself gives the film an added potency even if it is far from being one of his best films. It at least manages to be fascinating as it gets lost in the madness. As a side note I'm curious how much of the animal violence is real as the lack of a UK release has me curious.

Released onto DVD in the UK earlier this year, albeit exclusively from MovieMail. Passed uncut by the BBFC.

That's a great bit to know (especially the DVD since the US disc is going for absurd prices).

I was just thinking the other day that I should do a De Palma guide mainly just to highlight how great Obsession and Phantom are...

What other Paul Williams films are essential viewing?

The Muppet Movie.

Little Big Man is a much greater accomplishment than you give it credit for, considering it is both a good 70s westerns AND a good western comedy! That's the western hat trick as far as I'm concerned! Also, between I Walk the Line and Pretty Poison (and maybe even Play it as it Lays, depending on how you look at it), Tuesday Weld had a nice little niche carved out there of playing young women who drove men to badness out of blindness!

To be fully honest Little Big Man is my least favorite Penn movie where I actively dislike elements of it. I was mostly giving concession to your view. Hell I even prefer Verbinski's pseudo remake that just came out.

knives wrote:John Frankenheimer
99 and 44/100% Dead (1974)----------Shout Factory R1

This long run of suicidal self realizations is broken up by the completely estranged, totally idiosyncratic, blistering pop of 99 and 44/100% Dead. Completely unwilling to be tied to the genre successes of the past this film could have been Frankenheimer instead has fun, something he's so been lacking this decade, until the creaks of suffering are completely worn off.

I saw this recently and have to disagree. Here, he's really trying way too hard for arch pop-artiness in a film where the basic materials are straight from a TV cop show of the era. Every tic is plastered on with a touch of lead and he never goes far enough into ludicrous stylization to make the trip worth the effort, making this a really wearisome watch. Put this alongside genuine article, sharp-edged pop-art genre craziness like Tokyo Drifter and it just looks drab, flaccid and third-hand.

And I'm much more on board with domino (of all people!) with respect to Little Big Man. It's an easy film to pick holes in, but it's amazing just how well Penn manages to chew the helluva mouthful he's bitten off.

I like it as much as Tokyo Drifter and think it is just as good if very different to the Frankenheimer. I think the inscrutability of the Sezuki is largely a cultural thing with a different set of references. That said I think someone like Miike especially with something like Gozu is a better base for comparison. As to the Penn I mostly find it criminally unfunny.

bamwc already did the legwork on an Altman guide earlier, but I've been watching/rewatching (at a 5-8 ratio) all his films for this project and wanted to chime in a little.

MASH
This may have lost some of its Palme d’Or sheen, but it’s still an impressive film and a pretty definitive statement of Altman’s interests. I’ve seen its decline in reputation sometimes attributed to how its operating scenes now seem tame compared to 75% of the films produced in 2012, although I think the first cut to the operating table is still incredibly effective because of the drastic, perfect change in tone.

But what’s really not aged well is, as has been mentioned elsewhere on the forum, the rampant misogyny. It’s a pity that the film’s main symbol of military rigidity has to be a woman, and that so many of her come-uppances involve her body and her sexuality, the shower scene being the worst example (although the set-up with the whole camp setting up chairs and the punchline in the colonel’s bedroom are still funny). But even outside that, the central trio’s approach to women is pretty abominable, and the film seems to treat it as charmingly roguish—as if sexual mores like respecting a woman’s right to choose not to sleep with you or your passed-out friend are just part of those annoying institutions the gang’s rebelling against. In many ways, it’s laying the foundations for the worst aspects of the slobs vs. snobs comedies of the 80s (and their American Pie/National Lampoon-branded offspring).

Still, outside some scenes above where the creep factor goes over the line, what Altman manages with tone marks him as a genius. Everything’s managed with such a delicate line between cynicism and earnestness, and what could easily be an exercise in total ironic detachment has just enough bubbles of real feeling coming out (like the stray, slightly panicked glance between Forest and Houlihan near the end, cut against an exuberant rush to freedom) to grant it a much needed dose of humanity.

But what I like most is that ending monologue over the PA system. It’s a perfect spin on a rather mundane running gag through the film, and it crystallizes MASH’s statement of purpose as a response to the catalog of Hollywood war films.

McCabe and Mrs. Miller
I’m not as a big a fan of this film as most Altman buffs, perhaps because I don’t care much for Beaty’s grumbly, tic-ridden (how many must be hiding in that big fur coat!) performance, although I like Julie Christie’s a lot. But this is still perhaps the best “revisionist” Western I’ve seen outside Peckinpah. There’s the complaint, I think attributed to Mann (somewhere in the Western thread), that revisionist Westerns weren’t really showing anything Westerns hadn’t already covered in the 50s, except for more blood. McCabe is one of the few to focus more on the dirt and grime of everyday life (Dead Man may be the only other Western with as much muck, or maybe season 1 of Deadwood) and the shitpoor position of women in the West rather than violence. The images of those early whorehouse tents are especially disturbing, accomplishing far more with the decade’s looser censorship than most 70s western bloodbaths.

Images
This is an interesting formal experiment on perspective (in images, but also sound) and subjectivity in film, but in the end it feels like a dry run for 3 Women. None of the three men or their relationships to York’s character are all that interesting, and by making it such a one-woman show, everyone else feels pretty undercooked, though not badly acted. And its sexual politics are again kinda icky, with York being sexually implicated with everyone (or maybe not?) and her ultimate act doesn’t have much motivation beyond uhh… crazy, making her seem like some feminine desire/self-loathing gone berserk like Sister Ruth. Compare that to the later full-on feminist assault of 3 Women, and well, you get another unfair comparison. I kinda want to read that kids’ fantasy book York was apparently writing though.

Is Bertrand Blier's late 70s post-Valseuses work, like Calmos, Preparez vos mouchoirs et Buffet froid, well regarded here? (honestly , I don't know, since the Blier-topic never gathered much response). Since I'm not offering an articulated defense of his films, I do realise I'm not doing him any favours, but selling his films as post-Buñuelian absurdist knock-off's seems a bit too easy to me.

I absolutely love both Cold Cuts and Get Out Your Handkerchiefs. Going Place is just okay, and, sadly, I've yet Calmos. I did a write up on Cold Cuts earlier in the thread and consider it one of my favorite finds in this round of the voting.

I'm a big fan of Calmos, which I find more fun than most of the late Bunuel you might compare it to. A delightful, dizzying fantasy, with three great leads and one of the strangest final sequences in film comedy. Haven't seen Cold Cuts in too long, but plan to rewatch soon. Les Valseuses is just okay, I'd agree, but worth watching for the unusual performances, especially Moreau's.

I shall certainly include Calmos, GOYH, Buffet Froid and Les Valseuses, as I am a big fan and started the not very successful Blier thread.

By the way, is Richard Pryor, Live in Concert eligible, as I want to include it. I should think it will be as it is a film, albeit a record of a stage performance.

tojoed wrote:By the way, is Richard Pryor, Live in Concert eligible, as I want to include it.

Yes.

Which version of Deep Red do people recommend, the 126 minute Italian one or the 105 minute English one?

The Italian one. The added scenes are mostly talking, but they make things better paced in my opinion.