#42: Leon: Version Integrale (1994/1996) June 26, 2008
Posted by badblokebob in : Action, Drama, Crime, 5 stars, 1990s, 2008, extended/director's cut , 7 comments1994/1996 | Luc Besson | 127 mins | DVD | Unrated
I first saw Leon about 10 years ago, back when video was still an acceptable way of watching things. A friend leant it to me, insisting it was a film I absolutely had to see, and he wasn’t wrong. It’s remained one of my favourite films ever since, though typically I haven’t watched it more than once or twice in the intervening decade. (It also fostered a love for Sting’s closing song, Shape of My Heart, which is criminally missing from a Greatest Hits CD my dad owned (even though his dire song from Demolition Man is on there), and in moderately recent years was indifferently reused by both Sugababes and Craig David.)
I became aware of this extended cut a few years ago, a little while before it was released on R1 DVD. Having held out for a UK R2 release for about half a decade now, I gave in and bought the (apparently superior, and also in a Steelbook, which always has a way of persuading me) German R2. It’s labelled as a “Director’s Cut” but, as Besson states in the relatively lengthy booklet (translated with the aid of Babel Fish), “the second version is neither better nor worse than the original” — it’s not a preferred cut, just a different, extended one.
But personally, I prefer this version. Not because there’s anything wrong with the original — far from it — but because this one has more. Sometimes you can have too much of a good thing of course, but I don’t think that’s happened here. The additions build on the characters and relationships, primarily between the two leads, and also add extra doses of humour and action. Besson wasn’t necessarily wrong to remove these things from his original cut — the extent of Leon and Mathilda’s relationship is especially controversial for some, and the extended scenes of Leon training Mathilda as a Cleaner are arguably extraneous — but they all add to the experience. Wisely, he doesn’t seem to have touched what was already there. Everything that was great about the original — from the astounding performances of Jean Reno, Natalie Portman and Gary Oldman, to the thrilling action sequences, and plenty else in between — remains intact. They’ve not been buggered about with, just expanded around.
Ultimately, the reason I prefer this version is quite simple: I love the film and the characters, I could happily take more of them, and I very much enjoyed all of the added material. I can understand objections to the insinuations about Leon and Mathilda’s relationship, but I didn’t find it any creepier here than it was before (besides which, any paedophilic notions come from her and he quashes them). The quality of the performances in the new scenes, plus other solid additions, make all the new bits worthwhile. The version integrale isn’t too much of a good thing, then, just more of a great thing. To my mind, Leon (in either cut) is unquestionably essential.
#33: Throne of Blood (1957) May 29, 2008
Posted by badblokebob in : Drama, Akira Kurosawa, 5 stars, adaptations, 1950s, 2008, world cinema, Historical, Shakespeare , 1 comment so far1957 | Akira Kurosawa | 105 mins | DVD | PG or 12
Kurosawa moves Macbeth from Scotland to 16th Century Japan in this retelling of Shakespeare’s infamous Scottish Play. I’ve heard this described as a loose adaptation — perhaps those reviewers have never read the play. Kurosawa sticks very closely to the structure of Shakespeare’s version of the story (though based on real events, Shakespeare changed key details), often choosing to adapt it scene-for-scene. It works well in the new setting, with some of the themes — honour, respect, betrayal — perhaps becoming more understandable when placed in samurai culture. Kurosawa changes other elements too — character names are understandably localised, there’s only one witch, there’s no version of the famous “Is this a dagger which I see before me?” monologue, and so on. It’s not all omissions however, as Kurosawa adds imagery and symbolism of his own. Again this helps to place the story in its new context, but also covers the loss of Shakespeare’s original language (a major sticking point for some critics).
Beyond the Shakespearean similarities (or lack of), there’s much to see in Throne of Blood — literally, thanks to the atmospheric cinematography. Most of the exteriors are doused in fog, and while this is sometimes over-done (an extended sequence of Washizu and Miki riding in and out of it goes on too long) it also makes for some amazing moments, such as when the trees of Cobweb Forest drift menacingly forward. The interior of the forest is suitably oppressive and scary too, the perfect location for encountering a witch. Kurosawa was inspired by Japanese Noh theatre in his construction of the film, so there are a lot of longer shots that allow the characters to be blocked as if on stage. It’s not overly theatrical, thankfully, and works suitably.
Cinematic techniques are not entirely abandoned however. The most memorable is the banquet scene, in which Washizu sees Miki’s ghost: we see Miki’s empty seat, the camera tracks forward to a shocked Washizu, then back to reveal the ghost of Miki sat at his place, before tracking and panning around the room to follow Mifune’s brilliant performance. It’s an infinitely more effective reveal than any amount of jiggery pokery with dissolves or CGI could provide. Similarly, Washizu’s iconic death scene — in which hundreds of arrows puncture him and the surrounding walls — is impressively achieved (using real arrows), including one seamless shot when an arrow pierces his neck.
Macbeth is my favourite Shakespeare play — it’s a great story, with great themes, imagery and language. Throne of Blood obviously loses some of this, but it doesn’t matter in the slightest — Kurosawa has constructed an excellent and well-conceived retelling with a few of his own flourishes.
A note on the classification: the UK DVD from the BFI is rated PG, classified in 1991. A few months after the DVD’s release in 2001, the film was re-submitted to the BBFC and received a 12. Quite way the rating was raised isn’t explained, and copies of the DVD still bear a PG on the cover.
#26: L.A. Confidential (1997) May 12, 2008
Posted by badblokebob in : Thriller, Film Noir, 5 stars, adaptations, 1990s, 2008 , add a comment1997 | Curtis Hanson | 132 mins | DVD | 18 / R
Once again I’m watching an adaptation shortly after plowing through the source novel, a situation that has so far proved awkward for giving films a fair assessment. L.A. Confidential is an especially tricky one: how does a 480-page, densely written, intricately plotted crime novel, spanning seven years and “no fewer than four and perhaps as many as a dozen major crimes”, translate into a two-and-a-quarter hour film? With more than a few surprises, as it turns out, because the apparently minor changes near the film’s start turn out to be the proverbial pebble in a pond: their ripples spread so far that, by the second half, not even a reader who can remember the many details of the novel’s complex plot will know for sure what’s coming.
This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If screenwriters Hanson and Brian Helgeland had tried to squeeze in everything the movie would have been rushed even at three hours. Instead they’ve excised several unnecessary subplots and trimmed others to the bare minimum. Most impressively, they’ve picked apart several of the multitudinous plot threads and completely restructured them. It’s an incredible feat of adaptation. The downside is that some great strands are lost. Ed Exley’s father plays a huge role in the novel but is completely absent here; Inez Soto, the victim of a brutal gang rape, is reduced from a key supporting character to a couple of lines. Another connected loss is some characterisation. Jack Vincennes and Exley lose the most, though Bud White’s development is tied too closely to the main storyline. That said, the characters are still mostly there, painted quickly and precisely; they may lack some of the depth and complexity the novel can offer, but that’s an almost unavoidable difference between a film and a long well-written novel. To make a good film such sacrifices are necessary — even though it’s been simplified, the novel’s complex plot is still a long way from becoming straightforward.
What impressed me most about L.A. Confidential is that, despite spending huge chunks of the film pondering what they’d cut and changed, I still enjoyed it immensely. Even while distracted with thoughts of the novel, its differences and its relative merits, I could still enjoy the fantastic filmmaking. The casting is perfect, especially Spacey, Pearce and Crowe (perhaps the last most of all, considering his penchant for real life violence). For once it really is as if the roles were written for them, making it easy to forget that Pearce and Crowe were virtually unknown at the time. They’re supported by a cracking screenplay (which I think I’ve praised plenty already) and beautiful direction, which manages to evoke the period without being shot like a period film — Hanson has stated that he aimed to make it period-accurate but shoot it like a modern thriller, and he’s succeeded. There may be one or two imperfections (the music felt a little repetitive to me, for example), but they’re slight and it seems churlish to pick on them in any depth.
I look forward to watching L.A. Confidential again without the novel hanging over my head. I’ve made my comparisons now, and my memory’s weak enough that, by the time I get round to watching it again (perhaps when the long-rumoured special edition re-release turns up), I’ll have forgotten enough of the novel’s specifics to not be bothered by them. I expect I’ll enjoy it even more then. It’s an excellent achievement, both as an adaptation and a film in its own right. You can’t say fairer than that.
#24: Rashomon (1950) May 5, 2008
Posted by badblokebob in : Akira Kurosawa, 5 stars, adaptations, 1950s, 2008, Mystery, world cinema, Historical , 2 comments1950 | Akira Kurosawa | 88 mins | DVD | 12 / PG-13
One has to wonder if Dr. Gregory House was exposed to Rashomon at a young age. House’s universal truth — “everyone lies” — is also the conclusion of Kurosawa’s much-lauded film, in which four witnesses tell different versions of the events surrounding a samurai’s murder.
The “Rashomon” of the title is one of two gates to Kyoto, built in 789 and in disrepair and disrepute by the film’s 12th Century setting, but thanks to this film the word has come to signify a narrative that retells the same event from multiple perspectives. Mentioning it seems unavoidable when writing about a film (or episode of TV, or novel, or…) with such a structure, as reviews of the recent Vantage Point would attest. However, most similar tales aren’t quite as radical as this ‘original’ (which is based on two short stories by Ryunosuke Akutagawa), in which the four tales differ wildly.
Justifiably, much has been written about Rashomon, both critically and analytically. As such I’m not going to dig too deeply here, but instead just highlight a couple of reasons why it’s so acclaimed. For one, it looks great. Kazuo Miyagawa’s cinematography is exemplary, producing gorgeous rain at the gate, wonderful shadows in the forest, and employing numerous inventive shots and moves, always effective rather than showy. Fumio Hayasaka’s music underscores proceedings beautifully, coming into its own during long dialogue-free sequences. The performances are also accomplished, especially Toshiro Mifune as laughing bandit Tajomaru, but also Masayuki Mori’s largely silent turn as the murdered samurai, and Fumiko Honma’s chillingly freaky medium.
As I said, there’s much more that could be (and has been) written about Rashomon — I’ve not even touched on the intricacies of the plot, the presentation of the courthouse scenes, the significance of the fights, and so on. Certain viewers might be put off by the subtitles, the black and white photography, the film’s age, and its occasional ‘arthouse’-ness — and, I confess, I’m one of the first people to get fed up with films like Tati’s Play Time or Ozu’s Tokyo Story — but, for me, Rashomon was an incredibly enjoyable first encounter with Kurosawa.
#21: Notorious (1946) April 27, 2008
Posted by badblokebob in : Thriller, Film Noir, Romance, 5 stars, 1940s, 2008, Alfred Hitchcock , add a comment1946 | Alfred Hitchcock | 101 mins | TV | U
Cary Grant, Ingrid Bergman and Claude Rains star in Alfred Hitchcock’s 7th best film (according to the ever-changing IMDb Top 250, where it currently resides at #108). Grant is Devlin, an American spymaster who recruits a Nazi spy’s daughter, Alicia Huberman (Bergman), to infiltrate a group of Nazis in Brazil, via her old acquaintance Sebastian (Rains).
Initially the film focuses on the will-they-won’t-they relationship between Devlin and Alicia. A lesser film would have happily made this last the duration, but Notorious moves on to the question of how far an undercover agent should go in the line of duty. Once it has an answer for that it’s on to what the Nazis are actually plotting, and beyond that to the effects of the spy being uncovered. It’s not that the film is restless or doesn’t deal with any of these threads in depth — indeed, my implication that it drops each to move on to the next is disingenuous, as they overlap and weave around each other — but it doesn’t over-analyse or stretch them out interminably. It’s all the better for it.
The second half is where Notorious really comes into its own. Detailing the relationships and situations in the first half is time well spent to set up the second, which contains a brilliant sequence at a society party and a wonderfully tense climax. Hitchcock’s direction shines here, with swooping crane shots and dramatic close-ups — who’d've thought a cup of coffee could be so menacing? The villains’ plans may be under-explained, but no matter, because the focus is on how they’re uncovered rather than how they’re prevented. All in, it makes for a highly effective and entertaining spy thriller with a not insignificant dash of romance.
#20: Double Indemnity (1944) April 23, 2008
Posted by badblokebob in : Thriller, Film Noir, Billy Wilder, Crime, 5 stars, adaptations, 1940s, 2008 , 3 comments1944 | Billy Wilder | 108 mins | download | PG
This review could be seen to contain some spoilers.
Double Indemnity is perhaps the archetypal film noir — unsurprising, really, when you have Raymond Chandler co-adapting a novel by James M. Cain. Present and correct are the femme fatale, dry-witted lead man, voice-over narration, shadowy photography, murder, cover-ups, investigations, twists… The difference to films such as The Big Sleep is that the hero is the villain: our narrator, insurance salesman Walter Neff, conspires with Phyllis Dietrichson to murder her wealthy husband for the payout from an accident insurance policy — the double indemnity clause of the title. Neff even has the perfect plan… but, perhaps, too perfect…
Once again I’m viewing this in the context of its source novel (see previous such reviews), and it makes for a very faithful retelling of Cain’s novel. Some of the subplots are sadly lost, not only for time but probably for reasons of taste (Wilder struggled to get the film made in the first place, as the ostensible heroes are both murders and adulterers), some of the names are changed (maybe there was something objectionable about “Huff” and “Nirdlinger”?), and the ending is modified, perhaps with an eye to partially redeeming Neff. In some ways the film’s variant finale is more in keeping, especially for the character of Keyes, but I expect the merits of both versions could be debated. Chandler’s influence as screenwriter is clear in the dialogue. Many lines and exchanges ring with his unmistakable style, which is generally much wittier than that found in the novel.
The real feat of Double Indemnity The Film is that none of these changes jar too much, leaving us with that rare thing: a film that changes the original, but leaves both as excellent pieces of work.
Welcome to 2007 April 10, 2008
Posted by badblokebob in : Editorials, 5 stars, 2007, silent films , add a commentIn lieu of having any new reviews to post right now (there are some films I really need to watch for my course, however, so expect some to start appearing soon), I’ve finally begun to post the films from 2007’s quest onto this blog. They’re all formatted to fit the style here (rather than the old compendium format) and are interspersed with editorials (i.e. what used to be introductions). Today I’ve added my first 25 reviews, as well as the three ‘editorials’ that were around them.
Every time I put a new batch on I’ll be posting an entry like this one, with Handy Links for those who may have missed things first time round. Below is an alphabetical list of today’s additions. Notable films in this lot include my first five-star review, my second five-star review, and the first four silent films I reviewed: two very famous ones by F.W. Murnau, 1922’s Nosferatu and 1927’s Sunrise; 1927 romcom It; and, ahead of this Saturday’s visit to Pompeii by the good Doctor, a 1913 silent version of those events in The Last Days of Pompeii.
- Basil the Great Mouse Detective (1986)
- Blood Diamond (2006)
- Boogie Nights (1997)
- A Cock and Bull Story (2005)
- Doom (2005)
- Eragon (2006)
- Fargo (1996)
- For Your Eyes Only (1981)
- Hot Fuzz (2007)
- It (1927)
- Johnny English (2003)
- The Last Days of Pompeii (1913)
- Nosferatu (1922)
- Notes on a Scandal (2006)
- Octopussy (1983)
- Ong-Bak (2003)
- The Prestige (2006)
- The Pursuit of Happyness (2006)
- The Reckless Moment (1949)
- Romance & Cigarettes (2005)
- South Pacific (1958)
- Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927)
- This is Spinal Tap (1984)
- Thumbsucker (2005)
- United 93 (2006)
Once I’ve moved all the reviews over I will of course add my summary posts, which included a Top 10 and Bottom 5 for the year. Some of the above films made it on to those lists…