The Grifters July 7, 2007
Posted by clydefro in : Modern Films, 1990s , 1 comment so far
Seventeen years after its release, The Grifters
The Grifters was based on a novel of the same name by Jim Thompson, who worked with Stanley Kubrick on the screenplays for The Killing and Paths of Glory, had his book The Getaway brought to the screen twice, and is generally adored by readers of pulpy noir-type fiction. Thompson’s story was adapted by Donald Westlake, a well-known writer whose novel The Hunter was the basis for John Boorman’s Point Blank. Having never read the Thompson book, I can’t say how close the film adheres to its source material, but what we see in The Grifters is a lean, well-constructed example of how to perfectly develop three characters while setting into motion an uncomplicated, interesting storyline.
Like many of the great noirs of the ’40s and ’50s, the film is really more successful as a character study than a crime thriller. Through flashbacks and innuendo, the audience learns that Cusack’s Roy and Huston’s Lilly have, let’s say, an unorthodox mother-son relationship and Bening’s Myra has a history of grifting, a con artist term neatly quoted at the onset from the Rodgers and Hart song “The Lady Is a Tramp.” Each character seems constantly vying to be the most cold-hearted of the bunch, with a winner only emerging at the very end. If you love films like this, as I do, it becomes difficult deciding whether you should feel sympathy for any one of them, specifically Cusack’s character who’s positioned as the protagonist.
Roy is a small-time grifter who’s more interested in scamming bartenders out of ten bucks than running a long con. He has a substantial stash of money hidden behind a sad clown painting so we know he must be either frugal and prolific or experienced in bigger scams than he lets on. All signs point to the former, a guy who lives for the take and is unable to turn his back on a mark. When he’s on a train with Myra, he spots some sailors, including a young, balder Jeremy Piven, and locks in on his prey despite little opportunity for escape should the con go bad. You get the feeling that it’s a compulsion for Roy, something he enjoys even if he knows his limits in scale but not frequency.
His mother, Lilly, has been grifting all her life and is tied up with the unlikely named Bobo Justus (Pat Hingle, who’s only one of the several recognizable character actors present). With her looks fading and her platinum hair unable to conceal that she’s now a woman in her forties, Lilly probably sees an ending point to her viability as a crook. Her plan of attack has been to steal money from Bobo and hide the bills in the trunk of her car as she works racetrack schemes. We see that Lilly isn’t terribly bright or particularly brave when faced with Bobo, leaving her future in doubt. Her influence in Roy’s life causes a rift between Myra and him and ultimately brings down all three principal characters. The animal-like survival instinct we see from Lilly (stunningly brought to life by Huston in the finest scene of her career) is a startling reminder that these types of people don’t play nice.
If Lilly is the ice queen maternal figure, then Myra is the calculating mistress of indeterminate motive. Like Roy, the audience can never be sure of Myra’s intentions. We see right away that she’s found the ultimate weakness in man - lust - and is more than willing to exploit it for her own benefit. She’s opportunistic to a fault, conniving and conning with a smile. There’s no way of knowing for sure what she has in store for Roy, or whether the large con she’s mapped out would result in a nice payday for both of them or just her. Ruthless and alluring, Myra is a femme fatale equal to the best in film noir.
All three actors give their characters the perfect blend of callous indifference and seasoned, professional confidence to make for superb performances. I believe Cusack was only 24 years old when the film was shot and he’s a revelation, breaking free once and for all from the constraints of a career mostly spent in teen comedies. Since then, he’s honed a nice reputation frequently playing characters who care too little in films such as Grosse Pointe Blank, High Fidelity and the underrated The Ice Harvest. An Academy Award nomination to match Huston’s and Bening’s would have been a deserved honor for the actor. Still never nominated in his career, Cusack was overlooked in 1990 in favor of Robert De Niro in Awakenings and Kevin Costner in Dances with Wolves, among others.
Huston and Bening lost to Kathy Bates in Misery and Whoopi Goldberg for Ghost, respectively. Not my choices, but at least they were nominated. Both actresses give stunningly cruel, multi-dimensional performances. Watching the film recently, I detected a bit of Gloria Grahame, among other notable noir actresses, in the way Bening plays Myra and then I discovered that she actually somewhat patterned her performance after Grahame. It’s perfectly realized, a terrific throwback to what see in older films. I can’t recall a better contemporary example of completely adopting the style and mood of the classic femme fatale than what we see from Bening here. In fact, the entire film is a keenly updated homage to the black-and-white noirs, with added nudity and language but otherwise completely in the same tone.
The versatile director Stephen Frears should bear at least some of the credit for the success of The Grifters. After Martin Scorsese chose to direct Goodfellas instead, though he retained a producing credit and added a brief (unnecessary) opening narration, Frears was chosen following the critical success of Dangerous Liaisons two years earlier. The English director has proven himself adept at several genres, re-teaming with Cusack for High Fidelity and going on to direct fine films like Dirty Pretty Things and last year’s Oscar-nominated The Queen. I’ve seen several of Frears’ films, but I can’t say that I’ve noticed many obvious or consistent threads running throughout his work. Prior to The Grifters, he directed another noteworthy crime film, The Hit, which I’ve not seen but am anxious to view once the rumored release from Criterion surfaces.
The existing R1 special edition DVD of The Grifters is nearly five years old and could use some image clean-up, but remains more than acceptable and affordably priced. A new R2 release in the UK came out in February but I’ve not yet seen any reviews or indication as to whether the transfer is sufficiently better. Both editions seem to share the same special features, including a commentary with Frears, Westlake, Cusack, and Huston and a profile of Jim Thompson. I’d be curious to hear any opinions on the possible variations in image. The film itself is quietly great, maybe even a small masterpiece, and should appeal to those who enjoy spending a couple of hours with rotten-hearted noir characters.
Funny Games June 20, 2006
Posted by clydefro in : Modern Films, 1990s , 1 comment so far
Funny Games
The 1998 film begins with a German family driving to their vacation home while listening to a selection of classical music. The viewer is soon jolted by the abrupt switch from the melodic orchestral piece to the loud sounds of heavy metal. I suppose the director here is warning his audience that he plans to not play by the rules of normal moviemaking, a message he then proceeds to bash the viewer over the head with as the film progresses. As the family arrives to their destination, everything initially appears normal until a seemingly polite young man who claims to have been sent by the neighbors to borrow some eggs wears out his welcome. He’s soon joined by his partner in psychosis and the “funny games” are off and running.
In Funny Games, the director rarely shows actual moments of violence and instead puts the viewer on the edge of their seat with insinuation and imagination. He deftly handles the thriller aspects of the film and keeps his audience interested all the way to the deeply unsatisfying conclusion. Personally, however, instead of reflecting on the film in relation to other, more straightforward violent thrillers, I turned my ire to the filmmaker for his shameless manipulation and unnecessary scolding. Haneke seems to revel in mocking his audience as he pulls the rug from underneath their feet.
The audience as accomplice theme that Haneke is striving for becomes the root of the film’s problems. I completely understand what his intentions are, that audiences who watch films such as this are being entertained by violent torture and murder in hopes that the victim can turn the tables on his or her attacker and ultimately become a torturer or murderer as well. My disagreement with Haneke is that not everyone who views his particular film(s) is also an avid viewer of the genre he’s attempting to subvert. I’m sure many viewers, including myself, watch Funny Games because of it’s arthouse reputation and not for titillating suspense and/or violence. This lack of respect of his audience is misplaced since the very people who are likely to watch his films are the moviegoers most likely to shun the needlessly violent films he’s attacking.
Haneke’s assertion in the interview accompanying the DVD release that those who have applauded the tortured female victim Anna’s actions prior to Haneke’s rewind effect will be taken aback once they realize they’ve cheered a murder is baffling. If given the opportunity, I would relish the chance to ask Haneke how an audience is supposed to react when his heroine shoots one of the men who has been torturing her family, including killing her young son. Should the viewer not feel relieved and happy when such a man is seemingly killed onscreen? Haneke’s arrogance and preaching is at its height when he deprives the audience of this satisfaction by rewinding the scene as we watch and giving the killer a second chance. In fact, I can imagine viewers as more likely to watch the violent films Funny Games is attempting to subvert in order to achieve the satisfaction and closure that Haneke’s film fails to provide.
My complaints with Haneke’s films remind me of what Roger Ebert said in his review of David Lynch’s Blue Velvet (which is included on that film’s DVD). Ebert was upset that Lynch seemed to be provoking his audience with some of the images shown onscreen, such as Isabella Rossellini nude on the lawn, without any real reason or rationale except to shock and manipulate the audience. I think Ebert got it wrong with Blue Velvet because Lynch does appear to have a method to his madness, as evidenced by his subsequent films and interviews. Lynch respects his audience whereas Haneke laughs at his in a sadistic attempt to show them how wrong and stupid they have been for watching his film.
One thing that I do have to begrudgingly give Haneke is his ability to provoke an audience. His films certainly cause a reaction from the viewer. Whether this is good or bad or even relevant is up to the individual viewer. I can’t say I’ve enjoyed watching any of his films or that I plan on revisiting them. I see him as the worst type of filmmaker, one who has the talent to keep an audience interested but chooses to see them as lower than he is and must let his arrogance get in the way of making quality films. Manipulation is not something to admire and, so far, that seems to be all that Haneke is interested in achieving.
La Belle Noiseuse June 18, 2006
Posted by clydefro in : Modern Films, 1990s , 1 comment so far
Jacques Rivette’s La Belle Noiseuse
This is, of course, a mostly thumbnail description of the film’s overarching plot and not entirely indicative of the fascinating and mostly engrossing four hours the viewer spends with these characters. Far from being merely about a artist in search of his lost inspiration, La Belle Noiseuse shows us how a gifted artist works. The tedious and repetitive sketching and drawing of his model becomes enchanting and interesting in Rivette’s film. I never imagined a film so long would completely enthrall me without providing more of a traditional story. Perhaps, though, that’s the key in the film’s success. While many movies try to keep the viewer interested by constantly piling on dramatic developments and storylines, one after the other, Rivette has chosen to show the audience a more subtle and involving interaction between artist and muse. The result is like a fine bottle of wine that you don’t want to drink too fast, instead preferring to savor each small drink. It’s those small drinks that Rivette gives the audience and the result is much more rewarding, for the most part, than the traditional film about a painter where we see a few brushstrokes followed by the final product. I’m not sure I agree with Rivette’s decision to deny the audience a peek at the “La Belle Noiseuse” painting, but it truly sticks to the “it’s the journey, not the destination” theme of the film.
As the aging painter Frenhofer, French actor Michel Piccoli gives a fine performance. Piccoli has had an impressive career, from Godard’s Contempt opposite Brigitte Bardot to Mario Bava’s camp classic Danger: Diabolik and La Belle Noiseuse is a more than worthy addition. His cinematic muse Marianne is played by the beautiful and talented Emmanuelle Béart, probably best known, unfortunately, to American moviegoers as the female lead in Mission: Impossible. In this film, the pair form an artistic and platonic bond that serves as the backbone for the relationship between painter and model. Both actors, despite being familiar faces to fans of international cinema, manage to immerse themselves in their roles so effectively that the audience feels like it’s watching Piccoli truly sketch and paint Béart right before our eyes. (In reality, a painter was brought in for the hand movements and artistic elements, but this never detracts from the film.)
Marianne’s boyfriend and Frenhofer’s wife, who was the original inspiration for the “La Belle Noiseuse” painting, both show jealousy at the time artist and model spend together. Feeling neglected, each has difficulty grasping the importance of what Frenhofer and Marianne are trying to accomplish despite both initially nudging their partner into the situation. As Frenhofer and Marianne struggle to work through their own fears and obstacles, it becomes increasingly clear that their collaboration is exposing more beneath the surface of each than either had expected. Frenhofer must come to terms with his own aging and the realization that he will probably never be able to paint as he once did. Just as he starts to doubt whether he should continue at all, Marianne emerges to push and challenge him. When the final product is finished, however, Frenhofer realizes that what he has painted reveals too much and decides to hide the piece in a wall in his studio so that no one sees it.
La Belle Noiseuse also manages to contradict much of what we have grown to expect out of films. While Béart is both beautiful and fully naked much of the film, there is hardly a shred of eroticism involved. As she models, she’s performing a functional task and there’s never the sense that she’s being ogled by the audience, Frenhofer or Rivette. Furthermore, despite the film’s four hour running time, much of which is devoted to literally watching ink sketching and brush strokes, I was never close to boredom or inattention. The film is truly fascinating and manages to delicately avoid becoming tedious. If you allow yourself to give it the patience it needs, you should not be disappointed.
Insomnia May 8, 2006
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The 1997 Norwegian film Insomnia
The plot is best not known before seeing the film. It involves a detective disgraced from his job in Sweden who now works in Norway. He is sent, along with his partner, to a town in northern Norway after a teenage girl has been murdered. The town is located near the Arctic Circle, amidst the “land of the midnight sun.” The lack of darkness plays a key role in the film, most notably in Skarsgard’s inability to sleep due to the constant light. When the girl’s backpack is found, the police engineer a trap for the killer, but Skarsgard accidentally shoots his partner. He then must try to solve the girl’s murder without implicating himself in his parner’s shooting.
Like lots of people, I saw the 2002 Hollywood version of Insomnia directed by Christopher Nolan and starring Al Pacino and Robin Williams in the theater. I’d never heard of the 1997 original at the time and enjoyed the remake, but there was nothing beneath the surface calling me back for a second viewing. Since then I’ve watched the original Insomnia twice and even enjoyed it more the second time. The characters in the 1997 film are much more interesting, especially the protoganist detective. Whereas Pacino makes the character someone we’ve all seen before, Skarsgard injects a certain amount of flawed, even repulsive, instability into his performance that prevents the audience from trusting or feeling at ease with him, yet it adds an enormous depth to the film as you watch him disintegrate before your own eyes. The many seemingly small differences between the original and the remake (such as the dog being shot and killed by Skarsgard, but conveniently already dead for Pacino) are exactly what make the Norwegian film such a breath of fresh air.
There are so many little touches in Insomnia that help transform the film from a simple psychological police thriller into a small masterpiece. When Skarsgard runs the red light near the beginning, the astute viewer immediately knows that something is amiss. It’s unclear whether he’s doing this because he can or if he really didn’t realize the light was red. At the end of the film, as he is leaving the town having faced no punishment for all his misdeeds aside from his own guilt, we see that this time he stops at the red light. Perhaps everything that has happened to him has been somewhat cathartic and he can now awaken from the fog that’s been plaguing him throughout the film.
The only DVD available in R1 is from the Criterion Collection and it happened to be their first release anamorphically enhanced for widescreen televisions. The picture quality is still quite strong, despite some dirt and specks throughout the film. Unfortunately there are no special features as an interview with the director would have been a nice addition. The film, however, is more than enough to make it a worthy addition to someone’s collection.
Batman Returns April 22, 2006
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Batman Returns
The story wisely begins with the Penguin’s origins and shows his parents abandoning him. Throughout the film, the Penguin is shockingly disgusting and crude. This is not the dapper, yet crazed Penguin we’ve seen before in the comic books and the 1960s television show. Danny DeVito is probably the only well-known actor who could have pulled this role off and he still manages to disappear into the role. The DVD extra features mention that DeVito actually stayed in character as the Penguin on the set. Whatever DeVito did it worked because he gives the Penguin a suprising depth not usually seen in comic-book films, especially in villain portrayals.
Nevertheless, if DeVito’s Penguin is one of the best of its kind then Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman may be at the very top. Pfeiffer takes Selina Kyle from a mousy assistant lacking in confidence and transforms her into the dangerously seductive Catwoman. No villain in a so-called comic-book movie has ever displayed the multi-dimensional pathos as convincingly as Pfeiffer’s Catwoman. The audience understands why Selina Kyle is borderline unstable and we also see why Bruce Wayne and Batman would be interested in Kyle and Catwoman, respectively. Credit must be given to DeVito and Pfeiffer for such fearless, captivating performances and Burton for making his actors feel comfortable enough to let loose and dedicate themselves to a superhero movie.
In fact, however, Batman Returns is much less a superhero movie than a Tim Burton movie. Burton had made the gothic fairy tale Edward Scissorhands in between his two Batman films and it’s easy to see that film’s influence in the look of Batman Returns. Burton is one of the relatively few active American directors whose films almost always have a unique look or style. Here, the fairy tale theme from Edward Scissorhands is continued with the Christmas setting and the Penguin storyline. The penguin’s given name in the film, Oswald Cobblepot, is somewhat reminiscent of Edward Scissorhands and the two characters have some things in common, most notably a feeling of abandonment.
Batman has always been my favorite superhero character. The classic antihero, he has no special powers and can be viewed as a very dark, angry do-gooder who exists in the shadows and values his anonymity. With Batman Returns, Tim Burton and his collaborators seem to have made a conscious decision to focus less on Batman and more on the villains. Since the two villains are such strong characters, the film works, even if the audience would have liked to seen a little more Batman. Michael Keaton’s performances in both Batman films are my favorites of the actors who have played the role, probably because he manages to hint at the dark side of the character without shoving it into our face. Keaton broods with repressed anger, but his angst is compelling instead of depressing.
Clockers April 11, 2006
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Based on Richard Price’s novel, Clockers
Price originally set his novel in the fictional Dempsey, New Jersey, but director Spike Lee changed the location to Brooklyn, a more familiar venue for the filmmaker. It was Martin Scorsese who actually was originally to direct the film, but he decided to make Casino instead and Lee took over. In my mind, Clockers is the superior film. (See my thoughts on Casino here) Whereas Scorsese’s film meandered and sputtered out, Clockers is a more focused and interesting work. When the final revelation about Strike and his brother is laid out, the audience realizes that the “murder mystery” is not that important afterall. To some, this may seem anticlimactic, but I would argue that Lee (as well as Price, who also cowrote the script) has developed Strike’s character so well and given the audience such a feeling for his surroundings, that the mystery aspect of the film becomes inconsequential. It doesn’t matter if Strike or his brother was the killer. What matters is that Strike realizes his life as a “clocker” must come to an end.
Strike is obviously not your typical Hollywood gangsta thug drug dealer. Plagued with stomach ulcers, he’s frequently seen downing Chocolate Moo, a Yoohoo type chocolate drink. His hobby is electric trains and his apartment is filled with elaborately displayed and functional train sets. When a young neighbor, despite his mother’s fierce warnings, takes an interest in some of the drug dealers, Strike takes him back to his apartment and shows him his trains while telling the kid the evils of drugs. Unfortunately, since Strike is none too bright, he also shows him the gun he keeps underneath his mattress, which sets up the film’s final scenes.
Mekhi Phifer is perfect as Strike. He manages to skillfully balance the line between dangerous drug dealer and naive dimwit. His vulnerability gives the audience a reason to not give up on the character. We understand when Keitel’s cop is determined to nail Strike for the murder his brother has confessed to, but, as things become murkier, we begin to see how initial perceptions are not always accurate. Turturro is much less interested in who actually killed the victim than Keitel since they have a confession. By the end of the movie, one cynically wonders if Keitel regrets not listening to Turturro’s plea to just accept the confession and move on.
Released in 1995, Clockers is a gritty, complex film and it looks appropriately stark and unpolished. The cinematography gives the film almost a documentary-like feel and makes it easier to accept the dark themes found throughout the story. Lee even begins the film with shots of murder victims riddled with bullets and blood, perhaps as a way of preparing the viewer for the realistic and desensitizing violence. The two murders that serve as bookends are accompanied by crowds of onlookers, including Spike himself, who seem to accept the violence as a reality they cannot escape.
Also of note is the film’s theatrical poster, shown above, which was an homage of sorts to the Saul Bass-designed poster for Anatomy of a Murder. Instead of just a dead body, however, the Clockers poster has a bullet-riddled black victim. There’s also a version where the body is white and I have not been able to determine the significance or rationale behind the difference.
I know that Spike Lee has plenty of detractors, but I find him to be one of the most interesting American filmmakers working today. His films are frequently brilliant, if uneven, and he consistently manages to display his unique talent on the screen. I don’t want to digress into a Spike Lee defense manifesto, but he may be the most important black filmmaker ever and he should not be reviled for speaking his mind. For those who dislike his personality or opinions, it might be a good idea to separate the work from the man. Since he gained so much notoriety for Do the Right Thing
Casino February 25, 2006
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Released in November of 1995 to mixed reviews, Casino suffered from high expectations and failed to woo moviegoers who were instead flocking to theaters for the computer animated film Toy Story. In recent years, director Martin Scorsese’s third collaboration with Robert DeNiro and Joe Pesci has been elevated to somewhat of a contemporary classic, despite not being near the level of achievement of Raging Bull and Goodfellas. Sharon Stone’s Oscar-nominated performance is often cited as the best of her career.
Casino tells the story of Sam “Ace” Rothstein, played by DeNiro when he still cared about acting, and his childhood buddy Nicky Santoro, played by Pesci when he was still an actor. Rothstein becomes the boss of a new casino, the Tangiers, in Las Vegas and Nicky eventually comes out west from “back home,” as it’s called in the film, to take advantage of what he believes to be untapped moneymaking opportunities, i.e. stealing from bookies. Stone plays Ginger, a hustler/hooker whom Ace, despite his penchant for investigating all the ins and outs of every bet and his reputation as the greatest gambler there is, marries and entrusts with $2 million in a safe deposit box. This, of course, proves to be a big mistake on Rothstein’s part and sets up the last half of the movie.
I wish I had a more positive opinion of Casino, but no matter how hard I try I see its deep flaws and wonder how it’s gained so many supporters in the decade since its release. I’ll start with the good things. Scorsese’s direction and the set design are top notch. DeNiro has never looked so dapper as he does in the colorful suits Rothstein wears here. The casino scenes are all fascinating and give the viewer a feel of how Las Vegas in the 1970s must have been. I also enjoyed the change in the dynamics of the relationship between Rothstein and Nicky as the film progressed.
Unfortunately, there were several things that I found fault with in the film. Even though Pesci gives a fine performance overall, his forced Chicago accent is a distraction especially throughout the voiceovers. Everyone knows Joe Pesci is a New York/New Jersey guy and he does not make the accent here believable. Another problem is the film’s length. At three hours, it’s just too long. It feels bloated and unnecessarily tedious at times, especially in the second hour. Some of the themes are reinforced to the point of exhaustion, particularly those involving Ginger. In fact, Stone’s character was my biggest disappointment. It just felt like a one-dimensional feat of hysterics instead of a performance. I saw little nuance and never understood what it was that attracted Rothstein to her as opposed to any other girl hanging around the casino. Stone played her as almost completely unsympathetic and gave the audience very little reason to care. I’m not someone who thinks movie characters have to be likeable, but they should at least exhibit layers of personality so that the viewer can try to understand the reason they act as they do. Here, Ginger is a former hooker who for some reason cannot let go of her pimp (played by James Woods) and becomes a drug fiend. Despite this, Rothstein inexplicably lavishes her with expensive jewelry and trusts her with $2 million in cash.
Now even though I’ve outlined several things I didn’t care for, that’s not to say I didn’t like Casino. I did. It just frustrated me that there was so much potential for greatness and the film is unable to completely deliver. It’s also quite violent, including a scene where Nicky literally causes a man’s eyeball to pop out while being subjected to a vise crushing his head. There are obvious parallels to Pesci’s Goodfellas character’s penchant for violence. This violence doesn’t bother me, but it does seem somewhat like an attempt to top what occurred in the previous film.
Though deeply flawed, Casino is an often enjoyable film best enjoyed by those who like Scorsese’s films. Scorsese is near the top of my list of active directors, but Casino is probably near the bottom of his “good” films. I don’t think it would make my personal top 10 of his films, though even at a bloated three hours, this film can be fun to watch. Just don’t be disappointed that it’s not up to par with Goodfellas or Raging Bull.
