Rock n Roll Nerd placed 6th on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2009, which can be read in full here.

#20a: Zum Beispiel: Fritz Lang (1968) February 20, 2010

A slightly odd little documentary (these days, it would be — and, indeed, is — ‘just’ a DVD extra, though almost 30 years before that format (or even Laserdisc) I presume it had a different outlet. Anyway:), in which Erwin Leiser ‘interviews’ Lang about his early directing career.

Lang certainly has interesting stories to tell, in particular a long anecdote (taking up most of the film’s second half) about Goebbels’ reaction to Das Testament des Dr. Mabuse. It’s worth watching for this alone. (Even if, as the Bogdanovich/Kaiser/Koerber/Lang commentary on M reveals, it may not be wholly/at all true.) Earlier tales are more fragmented, however. Most of Lang’s major German films are touched upon, but none to any significant degree — it feels like random excerpts from longer, more thorough interviews.

The whole thing feels distinctly staged too. The interviewer and interviewee sit or stand in odd relation to one another — cutting away to film clips ‘disguises’ a change of position, usually to an even more unnatural one — while Leiser’s questions barely provoke the answers they actually get. Lang’s anecdotes feel genuinely told, rather than scripted and rehearsed, but the film’s structure and style makes it feel like they were very pre-prepared.

And when it ends, almost as abruptly as the numerous cuts and topic changes within it, there’s a long hold on a black screen with some discordant ‘music’/typing sound effects. Erm, what? Maybe I’m missing something…

The interview snippets are interesting, then, though they leave one with a desire to hear Lang talk at greater length about each of the films touched upon; and, as I said, the Goebbels story is worth the bafflement of Leiser’s directorial choices.

* This is the length as included on Masters of Cinema’s Blu-ray of M. IMDb lists running times of both 21 and 49 minutes; this comparison shows a German DVD with a version running 47 minutes; so maybe these are excerpts — as far as I can see, MoC don’t clarify anywhere.

#10: Ernst Lubitsch in Berlin: From Schönhauser Allee to Hollywood (2006) January 30, 2010

Part biography, part making-of, part analytical retrospective, Robert Fischer’s documentary does what it says on the tin: tells the story of the life and work of actor/director Ernst Lubitsch from his formative years, living on Schönhauser Allee in Berlin, to when he made the move to America in the early 1920s.

Fischer devotes a large amount of time to Lubitsch’s early years — the life he had growing up, his years as a stage actor, and how he eventually shifted into becoming a film actor — attempting not only to tell the story of his upbringing, but to draw (or leave the viewer to draw) parallels with the films Lubitsch would go on to make. A use of ‘family history’ first- and second-hand accounts and analysis from authors, critics and admirers strikes a moderate balance here, though those primarily interested in his eventual film work may find it goes on a bit too long.

A lot is also made of (or, at least, implied about) Max Reinhardt’s influence on a young Lubitsch. The film implies Reinhardt had a greater significance generally, but lacks any context about why he was such a momentous figure. In fairness the film isn’t about him, but one feels a minute or two clarifying his importance may have been warranted.

When Lubitsch’s directing career is eventually arrived upon, Fischer uses the same mix of talking heads to cover both the behind-the-scenes story of Lubitsch’s career, spanning a half-dozen or so of his more significant German works, and provide a brief analysis of how they foreshadowed (or didn’t) his future career and what they might reveal about the man and his methods. With such a broad overview no one films is covered in particularly great depth, despite the feature-length running time, though recollections from actors Emil Jannings and Henny Porten provide some film-specific focus.

Illustrated with copious clips and photographs from Lubitsch’s work, the documentary incidentally instills a desire to see more of the director’s early work. Tantalising glimpses of and stories about films such as The Eyes of the Mummy Ma, Carmen, Madame DuBarry, Kohlhiesel’s Daughter and The Loves of Pharaoh all leave one longing they were included in the box set too — though considering the six films already allotted, it’s hardly an oversight that there aren’t even more. As IMDb/Wikipedia seem to suggest none of these are lost, perhaps there’s space for a Volume Two?

Given that I found the documentary interesting, the following score might seem a tad low. Judged in the world of DVD extras, Ernst Lubitsch in Berlin would likely fare better; bumping it up to the world of ‘Proper Films’, however, reduces that somewhat. As much as anything, while I’m sure it’s of interest to the already interested, it’s not compelling enough to warrant viewing by anyone else.

#48: Culloden (1964) December 31, 2009

Culloden tells the story of the 1746 battle — famously, the last fought on British soil — and the events that followed it, as if it were covered by a modern TV news report (albeit a feature-length one).

This adopted style — a first — makes for an effective presentation. As a form it obviously foreshadows the docudrama, a method of presenting history which is so popular today, though not quite in this way. Writer/director Peter Watkins gratifyingly refuses to break from his premise: the whole film is very much like an extended news piece, featuring interviews, facts, and the famous BBC objectivity — at no point does the narration inform us who is good and bad, right and wrong, yet leaves us with little doubt about Watkins’ opinions (which are pretty low of just about everyone).

In fact, the film is fuelled by much youthful righteous indignation from Watkins, in his late 20s when Culloden was made. That said, his (perhaps unrealistic) idealism is still in evidence in every interview I’ve seen with him from decades later (though in those cases applied to what TV is and should be). But he allows it to dominate proceedings here, too often focusing on the awful conditions of the poor or the wrongs committed against them by Nasty Rich Folk. Should we be cross about this? It is 1746 after all — of course life was awful for common folk and the upper classes were rich twits who rode roughshod over them. That’s how things were in The Past, for thousands of years before it and hundreds of years after. With our modern developed sense of morality it all looks Nasty and Wrong, but we can’t go back and change it so why get so upset about it? Surely such vitriol is better directed at places where this is still the case?

While Watkins’ righteousness is clearly present before and during the battle, it’s really let loose in the aftermath, as English soldiers commit all sorts of atrocities to the Highlanders. Perhaps this was genuinely shocking and deserved in ‘64, and it’s still true that the actions taken were unforgivably horrid, but it’s no longer shocking — not because we’re desensitized to violence at this point, but because we’re now very aware that we have done horrendous things throughout our history even while painting ourselves as the good guys (as we still do today, of course). Early on he describes the workings of the clan system, ostensibly factually but with a clear undercurrent of its unfairness; yet at the end bemoans its destruction by the English. Maybe this is why Watkins struggles to find anyone likable in the film: they’re all as bad as each other.

Even if his overly moral stance falters, Watkins’ filmmaking techniques rarely do. The use of ordinary people as actors works fine most of the time, though occasional performances or scenes show off the cast’s unprofessional roots. Watkins’ theories about how TV should be run and why the involvement of the public in the way he did here may be romanticised and impractical, but it’s hard to deny that his application of them worked wonders. Performances frequently aid the documentary effect by seeming just like those in genuine interviews or news footage, whereas even the best professional actors trying to emulate such reality are usually mannered enough for the viewer to realise they’re acting.

Best of all, however, is the titular battle. These scenes are extraordinary, creating a believability even the largest Hollywood budget has often failed to challenge. It’s epic but also involving, disorientating but clearly told, brutal without needing expensive prosthetic effects or an 18 certificate. It’s a brilliant example of camerawork, sound design and editing combining under inspired direction to create a flawless extended sequence.

Culloden was a bold experiment in filmmaking — indeed, the notion of a distant historical event being presented as if covered by news cameras still sounds innovative — and Watkins mostly pulls it off, with stunning battle sequences, effective performances and a high concept that is never betrayed. A few minor weak points aside, the only serious flaw is that Watkins lets his overdeveloped morality run unchecked. His application of a modern outrage to what seems a typical historical situation grates quite quickly but never abates, ultimately reclaiming a star from what is nonetheless an exemplary effort.

Culloden placed 8th on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2009, which can be read in full here.

(Originally posted on 11th February 2010.)

#78: Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus: Best of Both Worlds Concert Tour - 3D (2008) November 23, 2009

Rubbish. In almost every way possible.

I could expand on that in numerous ways, but what would be the point? The only real exception is the 3D — being a very recent production, that was flawless.

Take solace in the fact that one day — hopefully, one day soon — Cyrus, Montana, this ‘movie’, and all the rest, will be completely forgotten.

This featured on my list of The Five Worst Films I Saw in 2009, which can be read in full here.

“Not because it is easy, but because it is hard” September 28, 2009

The fact that man has been to the Moon is undoubtedly one of the most significant achievements of the last century. This pair of documentaries cover the journey there in different but complimentary ways.

“dominated by the words of the actual astronauts, describing their personal experiences and feelings. Rather than following a mission-by-mission chronology it mixes all their stories together, thereby telling the tale of a journey to the Moon and exploring its surface only once.”

“aims to recreate the feeling and experience of travelling to the moon, not the hard facts of who went when and how it was done. As such it is both beautiful and artistic, featuring stunning photography that has been sensitively edited and scored.”

Also note The Right Stuff, the fact-based drama that tells the story of the men who paved the way for the Apollo missions.

#42: For All Mankind (1989)

For All Mankind tells the story of NASA’s Apollo missions to the Moon using only NASA’s own footage of the real missions.

It’s not a documentary in the sense that most people perceive the form — i.e. a highly realistic presentation of the facts — but instead something a little more interpretive, aiming to recreate the feeling and experience of travelling to the moon, not the hard facts of who went when and how it was done. As such it is both beautiful and artistic, featuring stunning photography that has been sensitively edited and scored.

In this regard, it makes In the Shadow of the Moon look like a Hollywood remake. While they follow the same tack — telling the tale of the Moon missions with just the testimony of the astronauts, treating it as one big mission rather than taking them all in strict chronological order — For All Mankind does it with a greater sense of artistry. Where Shadow feels like a typical documentary, with talking heads and onscreen identification of who’s speaking, Mankind just uses original footage and astronaut’s narration, never bothering to identify the speaker. Both styles have their place, and Shadow adds a great deal to the story with its retrospective comments by the astronauts, but the glorious footage and skilled editing of Mankind — and the added wonder of seeing it in HD, it must be said — leaves one with a sense of awe that isn’t as present in the more informative Shadow.

These two films make an excellent pair then, but For All Mankind’s beauty provides the superior experience.

For All Mankind placed 5th on my list of The Ten Best Films I Saw For the First Time in 2009, which can be read in full here.