Les combattants (AKA Love at First Fight)

Dir: Thomas Cailley

2014

****

Les Combattants, or Love at First Fight as it is also known, is a touching and rather unexpectedly sweet tale or romance when opposites don’t, and then do attract. I don’t like to generalize but I find that the French always manage to produce a sweeter kind of romance film, ones where the quirky, while very much there, never distract from the chemistry of the couple in question. Les Combattants literally translates as ‘The Fighters’, which goes some way in telling the audience that this isn’t going to be your typical boy meets girl scenario. It is neither conventional or predictable, but it is rather wonderful. The ‘boy’ in this ‘boy meets girl’ tale is Arnaud (Kévin Azaïs), a carpenter in business with his far more enthusiastic brother. He’s easy going, relaxed, mild-mannered..docile even. He takes life in his stride, carpentry doesn’t really seem for him but while he might wonder if he is meant for other things, he certainly isn’t looking. That said, he would never let down his brother. In the opening scene, he and his brother Manu are informed of the passing of their father and the pair set about making a coffin for him, only to be told home-made coffins are not allowed at burials. While visiting a couple who are interested in having a pergola built in their garden, Arnaud is distracted by their daughter Madeleine (Adèle Haenel). Madeleine is strange, determined and almost nihilistic. She is obsessed with mastering the art of extreme survival skill and spends hours holding her breath in her parent’s pool. She is determined to be ready for the end of the world, should it be on the immediate horizon. The pair clash immediately, Arnaud is intrigued but confused by Madeleine’s attitude and Madeleine doesn’t seem to give a damn about anything but her own survival achievements. It is clear however that both are unsure of their futures, while their ways may feel quirky and even a little extreme, they are very much typical teenagers approaching adulthood. Arnaud is strangely drawn to Madeleine and Madeleine does not push him away. When Madeleine declares that she is joining the French Army, Arnaud takes everyone by surprise and joins up too. Madeleine then becomes annoyed, even more so when Arnaud does well in training while she struggles at the bottom of the class. Over time Madeleine realises that her dream is lost, Arnaud is clearly attracted to her but how could she possibly be with someone who only highlights her failures. The behaviour of the two characters is strange but the script is written so beautifully, you realise that actually this is the evolution of what would become a romantic relationship. I’ve never joined the army for love, but I did some strange things in my teenage years, mostly in the pursuit of love. The film then takes a wonderful path of awakening when the pair decide to run away from the camp to live in the woods. There, they flourish, as does their love for each other. Finally Madeleine is surviving how she imagined, catching her own food and sleeping under the stars. It is only when she eats a piece of uncooked squirrel does it all come crashing down. Falling desperately ill, Arnaud carries the unconscious Madeleine to the nearest village, only to discover that it has been evacuated. With ash falling from the sky, it feels that this could actually be the end of the world. It isn’t of course. A nearby fire has caused the village to be evacuated and the pair are found by the army. One wonders whether it was one of their fires that caused it. At the hospital Madeleine realises that she has failed in her mission to become a survival expert, worse than that she was saved by someone with no interest in the subject, a boy no less. However, he could never have saved her without the training he had no interest in and in the forest all they needed was each other, thus, all you really need is love. It’s subtle and quite wonderful. Thomas Cailley’s direction is wonderful, thanks to him and the brilliant performances from Adèle Haenel and Kévin Azaïs, it really did feel like witnessing true young love. You can’t fight it. To find the balance of romantic and quirky is hard, most rom-com are awful because they get either one of both counts wrong but here Cailley gets it spot on, thanks also to his co-writer Claude Le Pape’s excellent screenplay.

Long Shot

Dir: Jonathan Levine

2019

***

In many respects Long Shot is a classic run-of-the-mill rom-com, but with some important upgrades that I hope other rom-coms take note of. We’ve seen rom-coms that explore power struggles many times before, in fact perhaps in all of them, as they always seem to follow the Cinderella story, the rich man poor girl scenario, Romeo & Juliet, Lady and the Tramp et cetera et cetera. Long Shot is ever so different in that ‘power’ is treated very differently. Charlize Theron plays the U.S. Secretary of State while Seth Rogan plays an independent and influential underground journalist. Who has the real power is up to the audience. While Theron’s character is smart, dynamic and successful you could see negatives in what she does, Rogan’s character is scruffy, idealistic and a little too quick to act - the pair are opposites in a very different way. Both have the same roots and much in common, and more importantly both have their own flaws. I like that Rogan’s character isn’t a complete idiot and that Theron’s isn’t completely inhuman. We see that the two were childhood friends at one point, Charlotte (Theron) being Fred’s (Rogan) babysitter. Set in the present, U.S. Secretary of State Charlotte Field learns from President Chambers (Bob Odenkirk) that he does not plan on running for a second term. As an ex-actor, he now sees his future in film and boasts that apart from George Clooney, he’ll be the first TV actor to make it in Hollywood. Seeing an opportunity, she convinces him to endorse her as a potential presidential candidate. Meanwhile, New York City journalist Fred Flarsky learns that the newspaper he works for has been bought by Parker Wembley (played by Andy Serkis in a fat old white guy suit), a wealthy media mogul whose ethics directly oppose Fred's. Furious, he promptly quits but cannot find another job. Depressed, he turns to his more successful best friend Lance (O'Shea Jackson Jr.), who takes him to a charity fundraising event that Charlotte is also attending. She and Fred recognize each other from when she was his babysitter. It is evident that he still has a secret crush on her from when they were teenagers. While they catch up, Wembley interrupts them to plan a meeting with Charlotte, leading Fred to condemn Wembley's actions and beliefs before leaving. Upon reading some of Fred's columns, Charlotte decides to hire him to write her speeches over the protests of her manager Maggie. Despite voicing skepticism of her ethics, Fred takes the job. At a world leaders summit, Charlotte is forced to revise a speech involving a planned environmental revision to appease some of her constituents. When Fred objects and calls her out on abandoning her morals, she changes her mind and the speech is a success. As the two continue to spend time together under the pretext of Fred learning more about Charlotte for his writing, they start to get close. Finally, after surviving a revolution in Manila, they begin a relationship together. Upon finding out, Maggie tries to warn both that the public will never accept them as a couple. When Chambers orders Charlotte to remove plans to preserve the trees, as some friends with financial interests of his asked, she lets off steam with Fred by getting high on ecstasy. A hostage crisis occurs soon after and, despite still being high, Charlotte manages to talk the captors down and free the hostage. Even though the incident increases Charlotte's approval rating, Chambers is livid when she chooses to ignore his orders and call him out. He confronts her in his office alongside Wembley, who has a vested interest in removing the trees as part of her plan. The two blackmail her with a hacked video from Fred's webcam. The hacked video depicts Fred discussing his and Charlotte's relationship and Fred further masturbating to a video of one of her speeches, the hacked video culminating in Fred ejaculating in his own beard. Charlotte shows Fred the hacked video and informs him that she has agreed to the ultimatum, and that she wants to introduce him and their relationship publicly once his image is cleaned up. Disappointed and unable to change, he refuses and they break up. Back in New York, Fred talks with Lance, who tells him that he has been too stubborn with his principles and refusal to consider other people's needs and opinions. He also comes out as a Republican to Fred’s dismay. During her announcement to run for president in 2020, Charlotte changes her mind and opts for her original plan, also revealing the blackmail from Wembley and Chambers and describing the content of the video before its release. Fred searches for Charlotte and finds her waiting at his apartment. They admit that they love each other, and meet the press outside where Charlotte introduces Fred as her boyfriend. In 2021, the couple marry and Charlotte is sworn in as the first female president with Fred as "First Mister", him having taken her last name. You kind of know what you’re getting with a Jonathan Levine movie, it has a few misses but most are forgivable. I liked Bob Odenkirk’s President. He isn’t based on any President in particular but I could see a bit of each of the last 7 presidents in him. June Diane Raphael is great in her supporting role as an adviser and Alexander Skarsgård was brilliant as the Prime Minister of Canada. Charlize Theron and Seth Rogan are great together, playing off each other brilliantly, their real-life friendship seeping into their performances in a good way. Andy Serkis’ performance is a bit strange however.Levine, Theron and Rogen, all related that after Andy Serkis accepted the role of Parker Wembley, he then developed a extensive prosthetic makeup design for the character, a makeup regimen that required hours a day to execute, even though nobody asked him to. Rogen remembered, "we offered him the role, and then he was like, 'Okay.' And then he started sending ideas for what he would look like. And we were like, 'What do you mean? I thought he kind of looked a lot like Andy Serkis.' But he was like, 'No, I got this whole thing.' And we were like, 'Whatever, man!'" I guess he can’t help it, Serkis is the motion capture/prosthetic guy. The drug humour was predictable, the potty language a little too full on and the ejaculation scene wasn’t funny. There’s Something About Mary told the same joke over twenty years ago, I’m all for recycling but not with jokes. Apart from that it’s fine. The possibilities for ‘The First Mister’ are huge, maybe they should have played on that more, maybe that’ll be the sequel, who knows, but if you want a light rom-com that isn’t the same as all the others go for this one, as it is ever so slightly better.

Sabrina

Dir: Billy Wilder

1954

****

The goings on behind the scenes are just as famous as the film itself in Billy Wilder’s 1954 romantic classic Sabrina. The lead actor hated everyone, the other two leads fell in love and had an affair and the director, who would end a 12-year business relationship with the studio after the film’s release, was so up against it, he asked the actors to fake sickness so he’d have a chance to catch up. Sabrina is a bonafide classic but one wonders whether it could have been better with one or two slight changes. Sabrina Fairchild (Audrey Hepburn) is the young daughter of the Larrabee family's chauffeur, Thomas (John Williams), and has been in love with David Larrabee (William Holden) all her life. David is a three-times-married playboy who has never paid attention to Sabrina because to him she was still a child. Eavesdropping on a party at the Larrabee mansion, as she has often done before, Sabrina notices David enticing yet another woman. Distraught, she leaves her father a suicide note and starts every car in the garage so as to kill herself. Instead she is interrupted by David's older brother, Linus (Humphrey Bogart), who escorts her back to her quarters above the garage. Sabrina had been on the point of sailing for France, where she is to attend a culinary school in Paris. After two years there, she returns home as an attractive and sophisticated woman. When her father is delayed from picking her up at the station, David offers her a lift instead without even knowing it is Sabrina. Once David realizes who she is, he is quickly drawn to Sabrina and invites her to join him at a party at the mansion. When Linus sees this, he fears that David's imminent marriage to Elizabeth Tyson may be endangered. If the engagement is broken, it would ruin a profitable opportunity for a great corporate merger between Larrabee Industries and Elizabeth's very wealthy father's business. Instead of confronting David about his irresponsibility, Linus pretends to sympathise with him and in a moment of inattention David sits down on champagne glasses he has placed in his pockets, so that he is incapacitated for a few days. Linus now takes David’s place with Sabrina on the pretext that “it’s all in the family” until both fall in love, although neither will admit it. In fact Linus’ plan is to pretend to be accompanying Sabrina back to Paris but not to join her on the liner. However, when he reveals his intention to Sabrina instead, she agrees to leave the next day and never come back. The following morning, Linus has second thoughts and decides to send David to Paris with Sabrina. This means calling off David's wedding with Elizabeth and the big Tyson deal, and he schedules a meeting of the Larrabee board to announce this. However, David enters the room at the last minute and declares that he has decided to marry Elizabeth after all. David helps Linus recognize his own feelings for Sabrina and assists him in rushing off to join Sabrina's ship before it leaves harbor. Linus and Sabrina meet on board and sail away together. The story is flawed way before the film is. I hate how suicide has been so poorly handled in love stories. You have to go back to Romeo & Juliet to find its origins but since then, particularly in older films of the 40s and 50s, it has been used out of context and in a irresponsible manner. We look back at films like Sabrina and comment on the love story without once questioning Sabrina’s mental state or the actions of the two brothers. Everything about it, when you really think about it, is deplorable and not romantic at all. It’s horrific really, but Hepburn’s eyes, Holden’s charm and Bogart’s voice somehow make people overlook such things. I like the film because I like watching Bogart, Hepburn and Holden, not because I like either the story or the characters. Initially, Cary Grant was considered for the role of Linus, but he declined, supposedly because he did not want to carry an umbrella onscreen but I don’t know how true that really is. The role was taken by Bogart. Best known for playing tough detectives and adventurers, Bogart was cast against type as a smart businessman gradually transformed into a romantic lead. He was something of a last minute replacement and he knew, just like everyone else did, that he wasn’t really right for the part. He was very unhappy during the filming, convinced that he was totally wrong for this kind of film, mad at not being Wilder's first choice, and not liking Holden or Billy Wilder. Bogart also disapproved of Audrey Hepburn and he wanted his wife Lauren Bacall in the role. Asked how he liked working with Hepburn, Bogart replied: "It's OK, if you don't mind to make a dozen takes." During production of the film, Hepburn and Holden entered into a brief but passionate and much-publicized love affair but Hepburn called it off once she learned that Holden couldn’t bare children. Bogart later apologized to Wilder for his behavior on set, citing problems in his personal life but by that time the stories were infamous. Wilder began shooting before the script was even finished, and Lehman was writing all day to complete it. Eventually he would finish a scene in the morning, deliver it during lunch, and filming of it would begin in the afternoon. Considering the film’s many problems, the final result is pretty miraculous. For all of the problems the film though, I do find it funny just how many times Wilder managed to mention the play The Seven Year Itch – the next film project with a new studio. The reality is that the film isn’t as special as all that but it is, and always will be, a joy to watch the four giant film makers at work.

Gilda

Dir: Charles Vidor

1946

*****

When most people think of Charles Vidor’s 1946 noir thriller they think of Rita Hayworth flicking her hair back and dancing along to ‘Put the Blame on Mame’. Fair enough, it was an iconic character with a performance to match, but I’ve always thought the best thing about Gilda was Glenn Ford. He is the one that always drew my attention, clearly keen to get back into acting after serving three years in the navy during the Second World War. Still, you can’t argue with Hayworth’s ultimate femme fatale, the character has gone on to inspire many an actor, writer and director from the likes of Jessica Rabbit, The Spice Girls, The Shawshank Redemption and an atomic bomb. Johnny Farrell (Glenn Ford), a small-time American gambler newly arrived in Buenos Aires, Argentina, wins a lot of money cheating at craps, and has to be rescued from a robbery attempt by a complete stranger, Ballin Mundson (the brilliant George Macready). Mundson tells him about an illegal high-class casino, but warns him not to practice his skills there. Farrell ignores his advice, cheats at blackjack, and is taken by two men to see the casino's owner, who turns out to be Mundson himself. Farrell talks Mundson into hiring him and quickly gains his confidence. However, the unimpressed washroom attendant, Uncle Pio (Steven Geray), keeps calling him "Mr. Peasant". Mundson decides to take a trip and leaves Farrell in charge for while and he excels at the opportunity. When Mundson returns from his trip he does so with a beautiful and spirited young woman - his new wife, Gilda (Rita Hayworth). It is immediately apparent that Johnny and Gilda once had a romance that ended badly, though both deny it when Mundson questions them. Johnny visits Gilda alone in the bedroom she shares with her husband, and the two have an explosive confrontation. While it is unclear just how much Mundson knows of Gilda and Johnny's past relationship, he appears to be in ignorance when he assigns Farrell to keep an eye on Gilda. Johnny and Gilda are both consumed with their hatred of each other, as Gilda cavorts with men at all hours in increasingly more blatant efforts to enrage Johnny, and he grows more abusive and spiteful in his treatment of her. Mundson is visited by two German businessmen. Their secret organization had financed a tungsten cartel, with everything put in Mundson's name in order to hide their connection to it. However, when they decide that it is safe to take over the cartel after the end of World War II, Mundson refuses to transfer his ownership of it to his backers. The Argentine police are interested in the Germans; government agent Obregon (Joseph Calleia) introduces himself to Farrell to try to obtain information, but the American knows nothing about that aspect of Mundson's operations. When the Germans return later, Mundson kills one of them. Farrell and Gilda have another hostile confrontation, which begins with them angrily declaring their hatred for each other, then ends with them passionately kissing. After seeing or overhearing them, Mundson flees to a waiting retractable gear airplane. Farrell and Obregon witness its short flight as the plane explodes shortly after takeoff and plummets into the ocean. Farrell concludes that Mundsen committed suicide, unaware Mundson has parachuted to safety and faked his own death. Gilda inherits his estate. Johnny and she immediately marry, but while Gilda married him for love, Johnny is avenging their mutual betrayal of Mundson. He stays away, but has her guarded day and night out of contempt for her and loyalty to Mundson. Gilda tries to escape the tortured marriage a number of times, but Johnny, now rich and powerful, thwarts every attempt, trapping her in the relationship that has become a prison for them both. Obregon finally confiscates the casino and informs Farrell that Gilda was never truly unfaithful to Mundson or to him, prompting Farrell to try to reconcile with her. At that moment, Mundson reappears, armed with a gun, to kill them both, but Uncle Pio manages to fatally stab him in the back. Then Obregon turns up, and Johnny tries to take the blame for the murder. Uncle Pio finally credits Johnny for being a true gentleman, while insisting that he had killed Mundson. Obregon, however, is uninterested in arresting anyone since Mundson is already legally dead. Farrell gives Obregon the incriminating documents from Mundson's safe. Farrell and Gilda finally reconcile, apologizing for the many emotional wounds they have inflicted on each other. It’s a great thriller and I loved the fake death but the characters are all over the place. No one is ever what they seem but not in a clever way. I think it is forgiven all its minor faults though, due to just how stylish it all is. The direction of the film has often been criticized but I think that’s very unfair. Charles Vidor got so much out of his cast and if you look back at all their films they all became better actors because of him and their time on Gilda. After all, he started with two actors who refused to slap each other, to having two actors with missing teeth. The character of Gilda was so famous that Rita Hayworth once stated "They fell in love with Gilda and woke up with me." It’ll be the role she will always be known for and I don’t think there is anything wrong with that, although it is often forgotten that she wasn’t just a pretty face – her performance is outstanding. It is no surprise that she was a WW2 pin up for many a solder. While Gilda was in release, an atomic bomb due to be tested at Bikini Atoll in the Pacific Ocean's Marshall Islands bared an image of Hayworth, a reference to her bombshell status. The fourth atomic bomb ever to be detonated was decorated with a photograph of Hayworth cut from the June 1946 issue of Esquire magazine. Above it was stenciled the device's nickname, "Gilda", in two-inch black letters. Although the gesture was undoubtedly meant as a compliment, Hayworth was deeply offended. I wonder what she made of Jessica Rabbit?

If Beale Street Could Talk

Dir: Barry Jenkins

2018

*****

There was a great deal of anticipation for Barry Jenkins’ If Beeale Street Could Talk, following the huge success of his 2016 award-winning drama Moonlight, and while the film didn’t quite have the same fanfare, it certainly maintains the directors striking aesthetic and mesmerizing mood. Jenkins, much like his characters, say so much by saying nothing at all. His strength is in his subtleties, he doesn’t hammer the message through but rather plants a seed and gives it water. I would argue that no one is making soul-searching passion films better than Barry Jenkins right now. The film is presented in a non-linear structure, which I wasn’t sure worked at first, but soon found myself adjusting to. In retrospect I think it was the right choice for the style of narrative. Clementine "Tish" Rivers (KiKi Layne) and Alonzo "Fonny" Hunt (Stephan James) have been friends their whole lives, and begin a romantic relationship when they are older. It is the early 1970s, and they struggle to find a place to live as most New York City landlords refuse to rent apartments to black people. They eventually find a place in a warehouse in the process of being converted to loft apartments; Levy, the Jewish landlord (played by Dave Franco), agrees to rent it to them at a reasonable rate because he enjoys seeing couples who are in love, regardless of their race.That night, Tish is harassed by a man while shopping at a mostly white grocery store. When he begins to assault her, Fonny physically throws the man out of the store. A white policeman nearby, Officer Bell (Ed Skrein), witnesses the incident and attempts to arrest Fonny, but reluctantly lets him go when the white woman who runs the grocery store vouches for them and calls Bell out for his racism. Fonny is later arrested and accused of raping a woman named Victoria Rogers. Although it would have been nearly impossible for him to have traveled from the scene of the crime to the apartment where he was arrested in the amount of time between the rape and the arrest, the case against Fonny is considered strong due to Officer Bell's testimony, in which he claims to have seen Fonny fleeing the scene, and Victoria having identified Fonny in a lineup as her rapist. Tish, as well as Fonny's friend Daniel Carty (Brian Tyree Henry), were with him at the time of the rape, but his alibi is not considered reliable due to Tish's romantic relationship with Fonny and Daniel's previous conviction for grand theft auto (the result of a plea bargain after being arrested for marijuana possession). Tish visits Fonny in jail as he awaits trial, and reveals to him that she is pregnant with their baby. Fonny is excited to be a father, but is saddened by the fact that his child might be born with him behind bars. Later, Tish tells her parents, Sharon and Joseph, and sister, Ernestine, about her pregnancy. Though worried for her, Tish's family is supportive and decide to invite Fonny's family over to share the news. Frank, Fonny's father, is excited about the pregnancy. However, Fonny's highly religious mother declares the child to be a sin due to being conceived out of wedlock, and rants about how Tish and her child are damned. As Mrs. Hunt begins to leave with her daughters in disgust after Frank hits her, Sharon reminds her that she has just condemned her own grandchild, leaving her emotionally distraught as she is escorted away. In a bar, Frank and Joseph discuss how the former is worried about paying for a child and Fonny's legal expenses, but Joseph convinces him that they will be able to provide for their grandchild the same way they provided for their children. After tracking Victoria to her native Puerto Rico, Sharon travels there to plead with her to change her testimony. Sharon attempts to convince Victoria that she made a mistake when she identified Fonny as her rapist, but Victoria refuses. When Sharon questions whether Victoria could have seen her rapist's face in the dark, Victoria says the police told her to identify Fonny in a line-up, and she did so. When Sharon gently touches her, Victoria begins to scream, attracting the attention of her neighbors, forcing Sharon to leave. Discouraged by the seeming hopelessness of his case and the constant trial delays, Fonny eventually accepts a plea deal. In the last scene of the film, Tish and the child, named Alonzo, Jr., after his father, are visiting Fonny in prison. They all share a dinner together from the vending machines, while looking forward to Fonny's eventual release. The lack of happy ending speaks volumes and I wonder whether this hindered it’s performance at the box office and at the awards. However, it makes it all the more real. There is nothing extraordinary about the story in many respects because it’s a scenario that has happened time and time again. Jenkins’ matter of fact approach allows the audience to reflect, which is far more powerful than to provoke or to preach. The story is an adaptation of the book written by the great James Baldwin and Jenkins captures the essence and the idea and point laid out by the title - ‘IF Beeale Street Could Talk’ - perfectly. To bring the words to life, Jenkins and cinematographer James Laxton looked at the work of Harlem artist Roy DeCarava. DeCarava received early critical acclaim for his photography, initially engaging and imaging the lives of African Americans and jazz musicians in the communities where he lived and worked. Over a career that spanned nearly six decades, DeCarava came to be known as a founder in the field of black and white fine art photography, advocating for an approach to the medium based on the core value of an individual, subjective creative sensibility, which was separate and distinct from the social documentary style of his predecessors. It translates perfectly with Baldwin’s words with his book The Sweet Flypaper of Life, a pictorial narrative of family life in Harlem published in 1955, is clearly the main source of inspiration. While the film received critical acclaim, the lack of hype bothered me. It’s a stunning piece of work that I believe will become recognised as a modern masterpiece in the near future.

The Barefoot Contessa

Dir: Joseph L. Mankiewicz

1954

***

Marlon Brando famously turned down the leading role in Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s now classic The Barefoot Contessa, telling the director "I'm not making pictures about movie stars this year. I'm not even into being a movie star, myself." While Barefoot Contessa is now seen as a classic Hollywood picture, a piece of fantastical glamour and a celebration of extravagance from the golden age, it is actually a lot closer to reality than many people realise. The lead character of Maria Vargas is based on Rita Hayworth, who was actually offered the part. Hayworth was a Latina who later married a prince, Prince Aly Khan. Other elements were taken from Ava Gardner's life as well, particularly the stormy relationship between Maria and tycoon movie producer Kirk Edwards (Warren Stevens) which was based on Gardner's own relationship with billionaire film producer Howard Hughes. It’s not without its issues but it is hard not to love and indulge oneself in the glamour and decadence of the bygone era, but in many respects it is a shame Humphrey Bogart was cast, given that the film really was about Ava Gardner’s Maria, and not about him or his character. It begins as we find washed-up movie director and writer Harry Dawes (Humphrey Bogart) who is down on his luck and reduced to working for abusive, emotionally stunted business tycoon Kirk Edwards (Warren Stevens), who has decided that he wants to produce a film to stroke his monumental ego. Looking for a glamorous leading lady, they go to a Madrid night club to see a dancer named Maria Vargas (Ava Gardner), whom Kirk had already been told about. Maria is a proud spirit who likes to walk barefoot and who always refuses an audience backstage but makes an exception for Harry. Maria immediately likes Harry, whose work she knows, but takes an instant dislike of Kirk. Although she flees during their meeting, Harry tracks her down to her family home and convinces her to fly away with them to America to make her first film. Thanks to his expertise and the help of sweaty, insincere publicist Oscar Muldoon (Edmond O'Brien), her film debut is a sensation. With subsequent films by this team, Maria becomes a respected actress, Harry's career is resurrected, and they become friends. During a party at Maria's house, Kirk and wealthy Latin American playboy Alberto Bravano (Marius Goring) become involved in an argument over Maria. Alberto had conspicuously admired Maria during the evening. When Alberto invites her to join him on his yacht in the Riviera, Kirk orders her to stay away from him. Offended by Kirk's attempted domineering, she accepts Alberto's invitation. Also seeing an opportunity, Oscar, tired of being Kirk's lackey, switches his allegiance to Alberto. Soon Maria becomes a big star, but she is not satisfied. She envies the happiness her friend Harry has found with his wife Jerry (Elizabeth Sellars). Alberto is too frivolous and shallow for her. One evening at a casino, while Alberto is gambling, Maria takes some of his chips and cashes them, throwing the money to her gypsy lover from a window. When Alberto goes on a losing streak, he berates Maria in public for ruining his luck. Subsequently, he receives a slap in the face from Count Vincenzo Torlato-Favrini (Rossano Brazzi), who escorts Maria from the casino. Maria stays with Vincenzo and his widowed sister, Eleanora (Valentina Cortesa), at the count's palazzo. She has found the great love of her life, and they wed in a lavish ceremony, in which Harry gives away the bride. But there is a problem. The count and his sister are the last of the Torlato-Favrinis; without offspring, the noble line will die out. The count has a secret. Due to a war injury, he is impotent. He does not tell Maria about this until their wedding night. On a rainy night months later, with Harry in Italy, an unhappy Maria arrives at his hotel room, telling him about her husband's impotence, but confessing that she is pregnant. She believes Vincenzo will want this child in order to perpetuate the family lineage. Harry warns her Vincenzo is too proud to accept this, but Maria feels otherwise and plans to tell him about her pregnancy that night. As Maria leaves his hotel room, Harry notices Vincenzo's car trailing hers and follows them. Back at the palazzo in the servants' quarters, Vincenzo shoots to death both Maria and her lover before she can tell him about the child. Harry arrives just as the shots are fired but he does not tell Vincenzo about the pregnancy. The story ends, as it began, with flashbacks at her funeral. While the story needs a narrator, someones eyes for the audience to see maria’s life through, I’ve always found the clear career determination of Bogart above Harry the down on his luck director. The studio was about to release the film's poster without an image of Bogart, which was a contractual violation but Bogart had the matter rectified with the addition of a line drawing of his face. That is what makes the film authentically Hollywood. I adore Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s films and I love the script in Barefoot Contessa, but I’ve always thought it would have been a much richer film if it had been made by a French or Italian director and their native country. It was indeed filmed in Rome, making it one of the films referred to as ‘Hollywood on the Tiber’, a short lived phenomenon that included films such as Roman Holiday and Three Coins in the Fountain, but it is 100% Hollywood at its core. While Humphrey Bogart and Ava Gardner had good chemistry on screen, off screen Bogart wasn't particularly impressed with her as an actress. He commented that Gardner gave him nothing to work with when they were performing together. Some believe Bogart's unfavourable feelings towards Gardner was due to the divorce between Gardner and his close friend Frank Sinatra but when you hear about how Bogart acted in other pictures, I believe it was just the way he was. It’s one of those films where its best to enjoy it for what it is, without learning too much about the reality of the production. For me it wins due to its amazing script but I find it hard to ignore the brattish Hollywood behaviour that has had negative repercussions ever since within the industry. Like I say, I love the film, but pioneering films such as Rear Window, Seven Samurai, La Strada, On the Waterfront and Godzilla were released at the same time and I have far more time for them.

Now, Voyager

Dir: Irving Rapper

1942

*****

The big tobacco companies owe a great deal of gratitude to Irving Rapper’s 1942 adaptation of Olive Higgins Prouty’s novel Now, Voyager. However, other than famously romanticising the sharing a cigarette, Now, Voyager really was the first great film exploring self discovery and second chances, and it hasn’t dated too badly either in the scheme of things. Its alternative romantic narrative also made it ahead of its time and somehow more compelling as it was more realistic and less of a fairytale. The film is an adaptation of Olive Higgins Prouty’s novel where she borrowed the title from the Walt Whitman poem "The Untold Want":

The untold want by life and land ne'er granted,

Now, voyager, sail thou forth, to seek and find.

Producer Hal B. Wallis made Now, Voyager his first independent production and he took an active role in the production, including casting decisions. The initial choices for Charlotte were Irene Dunne, Norma Shearer and Ginger Rogers. Of course, when Bette Davis learned about the project, she campaigned for and eventually won the role. More than any other of her previous films, Davis became absorbed in the role, not only reading the original novel but becoming involved in details such as choosing her wardrobe personally. Consulting with designer Orry-Kelly, she suggested a drab outfit, including an ugly foulard dress for Charlotte initially, to contrast with the stylish, "timeless" creations that mark her later appearance on the cruise ship. The choice of Davis's leading men became important as well. Davis was aghast at the initial costume and makeup tests of Austrian actor Paul Henreid, she thought the "slicked back" gigolo-like appearance made him look "just like Valentino." Henreid was similarly uncomfortable with the brilliantine image and when Davis insisted on another screen test with a more natural hairstyle, he was finally accepted as the choice for her screen lover. In her 1987 memoir, This 'N That, Davis revealed that co-star Claude Rains (with whom she also shared the screen in Juarez, Mr. Skeffington, and Deception) was her favorite co-star. Once you have read her autobiography her films are never quite the same again. The story centres on Charlotte Vale, an unattractive, overweight, repressed spinster whose life is brutally dominated by her tyrannical mother, an aristocratic Boston dowager whose verbal and emotional abuse of her daughter has contributed to her complete lack of self-confidence. It is revealed that Mrs. Vale had already brought up three sons, and Charlotte was an unwanted child born to her late in life. Fearing that Charlotte is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, her sister-in-law Lisa introduces her to psychiatrist Dr. Jaquith, who recommends that she spend time in his sanitarium. Away from her mother's control Charlotte blossoms, and at Lisa's urging the transformed woman opts to take a lengthy cruise instead of going home immediately. On the ship she meets Jeremiah Duvaux Durrance, a married man who is traveling with his friends Deb and Frank McIntyre. It is from them that Charlotte learns of how Jerry's devotion to his young daughter Tina keeps him from divorcing his wife, a manipulative, jealous woman who does not love Tina and keeps Jerry from engaging in his chosen career of architecture, despite the fulfillment he gets from it. Charlotte and Jerry become friendly, and in Rio de Janeiro the two are stranded on Sugarloaf Mountain when their car crashes. They miss the ship and spend five days together before Charlotte flies to Buenos Aires to rejoin the cruise. Although they have fallen in love, they decide it would be best not to see each other again. When she arrives home, Charlotte's family is stunned by the dramatic changes in her appearance and demeanor. Her mother is determined to once again destroy her daughter, but Charlotte is resolved to remain independent. The memory of Jerry's love and devotion help to give her the strength she needs to remain resolute. Charlotte soon becomes engaged to wealthy, well-connected widower Elliot Livingston, but after a chance meeting with Jerry, she breaks off the engagement, about which she quarrels with her mother. During the argument, Charlotte says she didn't ask to be born, that her mother never wanted her, that it's "been a calamity on both sides." Mrs. Vale is so shocked that her once-weak daughter has found the courage to actually talk back to her, she has a heart attack and dies. Guilty and distraught, Charlotte returns to the sanitarium. When she arrives at the sanitarium, she is immediately diverted from her own problems when she meets Jerry's lonely, unhappy 12-year-old daughter Tina who has been sent to Dr. Jaquith. Tina greatly reminds Charlotte of herself; both were unwanted and unloved by their mothers. Shaken from her depression, Charlotte becomes overly interested in Tina's welfare and, with Dr. Jaquith's permission, she takes her under her wing. When the girl improves, Charlotte takes her home to Boston. Jerry and Dr. Jaquith visit the Vale home, where Jerry is delighted to see the changes in his daughter. While he initially pities Charlotte, believing her to be settling in her life, he's taken aback by her contempt for his initial condescension. Dr. Jaquith has allowed Charlotte to keep Tina there with the understanding that her relationship with Jerry will remain platonic. She tells Jerry that she sees Tina as his gift to her and her way of being close to him. When Jerry asks her if she's happy, Charlotte finds much to value in her life, even if she doesn't have everything she wants. In what would have generally been considered as sad ending in those days, the couple agree to leave things as they are with Charlotte uttering the now infamous line "Oh, Jerry, don't let's ask for the moon. We have the stars,". It’s a vivid Hollywood-style adaptation but apart from the changes in location it is very faithful. The production of the novel had to take into account that European locations would not be possible in the midst of World War II, despite the novelist's insistence on using Italy as the main setting. All the European scenes were replaced by stock footage of Brazil. Prouty's quirky demands for vibrant colors and flashbacks shot in black and white with subtitles were similarly disregarded. The film highlighted Davis's ability to shape her future artistic ventures, as not only did she have a significant role in influencing the decisions over her co-stars, the choice of director was predicated on a need to have a compliant individual at the helm. Davis previously had worked with Irving Rapper on films where he served as a dialogue director, but his gratitude for her support turned into a grudging realization that Davis could control the film. Although his approach was conciliatory, the to-and-fro with Davis slowed production and "he would go home evenings angry and exhausted". The dailies, however, showed a surprisingly effective Davis at the top of her form. For years, Davis and co-star Paul Henreid claimed the moment in which Jerry puts two cigarettes in his mouth, lights both, then passes one to Charlotte, was developed by them during rehearsals, inspired by a habit Henreid shared with his wife, but drafts of Casey Robinson's script on file at the University of Southern California indicate it was included by the screenwriter in his original script. The scene remained an indelible trademark that Davis later would exploit as her own. Davis’ performance is obviously key in the film’s success but I think Irving Rapper’s direction is often overlooked as the film is just as visual as it is about the story and performance. The film remains ahead of its time in many respects but it is also rather dated, making it quite a unique and rather special movie. It’s not often that a film succeeds in being both magical and poignant at the same time without being too melodramatic or over the top. Now, Voyager has become hugely influential and is responsible for a certain sub-genre that is still to be bettered.

His Kind of Woman

Dir: John Farrow, Richard Fleischer

1951

****

Howard Hughes’s 1951 His Kind of Woman could easily be overlooked as a standard film noir with a few messy errors but it is actually much more than that. It is well known that Post-production on the film was rife with problems thanks to executive producer Howard Hughes becoming increasingly dissatisfied with director John Farrow. I like the film very much and it isn’t until the final half hour that you would guess that anything was out of the ordinary. Up until that point it is a classy noir with plenty of mystery, a snappy script with a sizzling chemistry between its two leading actors; Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell. Mitchum plays Dan Milner, a down on his luck professional gambler who accepts a mysterious job that will take him out of the country for a year but pays $50,000. He accepts a $5,000 down payment and tickets that will take him to an isolated Mexican resort, Morro's Lodge, where he will receive further instructions. Milner meets Lenore Brent (Jane Russell) in a run down bar next to the airport singing to an empty room. He tries it on but is rejected, as is typical in these sort of films. As luck would have it, she is the only other passenger on his chartered flight to the resort, and he gets a second chance to get to know her (and for her to get to know him). When he arrives, Milner finds that several guests at the luxurious Baja California resort have hidden agendas. He is disappointed to find that Lenore is the girlfriend of famous movie actor Mark Cardigan (Vincent Price) but continues to flirt with her anyway. Just as he becomes frustrated with all the secrecy, he overhears two guests, self-proclaimed author Martin Krafft (John Mylong) and a man named Thompson (Charles McGraw), planning something which he suspects involves him. When Milner confronts them, he is given $10,000 and told that someone is on his way to Baja to see him. Seemingly drunk Bill Lusk (Tim Holt) flies in, despite warnings of very dangerous storm conditions. Milner thinks he must be the contact but when the two are alone, Lusk claims to be an undercover agent for the Immigration and Naturalization Service. He tells Milner that the U.S. government suspects that underworld boss Nick Ferraro (Raymond Burr), deported to Italy four years earlier, is scheming to get back into the country posing as Milner. The two men are a close physical match and Milner is a loner, so no one is likely to miss him. Krafft turns out to be a plastic surgeon. The plot begins to feel far-fetched but it is a relief when things start to happen. However, there are many sub-plots that just feel like time filler. Cardigan's wife Helen (Marjorie Reynolds) and his personal manager Gerald Hobson (Carleton G. Young) show up. She had gone to Reno to get a divorce, though not really intending to go through with it, as she is still fond of her husband. Hobson also thinks it is a poor idea because Cardigan's film contract is expiring and the bad publicity would make it hard to get a new one. With her own plans ruined, Lenore confesses to Milner that she is really just a singer looking to hook a wealthy spouse. Another sub-plot sees Milner shows his softer side when he helps unhappy newly wed Jennie Stone (Leslie Banning) by cheating at poker to win back her husband's gambling losses from investment broker Myron Winton (the great Jim Backus). Things get back on track when Lusk sneaks into Thompson's room and is caught and killed. Milner and Lenore stumble upon his body dumped on the beach and Milner becomes convinced that the dead man must have been telling the truth. The film gets a little strange from then on in as that night, Thompson and his men take Milner to a yacht, that has recently arrived in the bay. Milner is able to pass along a veiled plea for help to Lenore. She persuades Cardigan, who is tired of just pretending to be a film hero, to help out. While the actor keeps the mobsters pinned down with his hunting rifle, Milner sneaks back onto the boat, knowing that the only way out of his mess is to deal with Ferraro once and for all. He is caught and brought to the crime lord. After killing two of the thugs and wounding and capturing Thompson, Cardigan mounts a rescue with the reluctant assistance of the Mexican police and a couple of the more adventurous guests. A gunfight breaks out aboard the boat, followed by a melee. Milner manages to break free and shoot Ferraro dead. Suddenly the film noir thriller turns into an action film with light comedy. Cardigan and his wife are reconciled, leaving Milner and Lenore to finally get together. The last scene isn’t typical either, as Mitchum embraces Russell half way through ironing his underpants, leaving them to burn as the credits roll. Initially Hughes asked director Richard Fleischer to change and re-shoot the ending, estimating that the re-shoot would take ten days or two weeks. Fleischer re-shot most of the film during post production, which he describes in detail in chapter five of his book that was aptly titled Just Tell Me When To Cry. Story conferences between Hughes, Fleischer and the writer Earl Felton, took several months to complete. The big changes to the original were the added new action scenes on the yacht. As more and more action sequences were added in the rewrite, the set was expanded bit by bit to a set for a full size 150-foot yacht, including interiors. After two months of shooting and a month of editing, an hour and 20 minutes of new material had been added to the film. When Hughes viewed the new material, he decided that he did not like Ferraro's original actor, Lee Van Cleef and ordered the scenes with that character re-shot with a different actor. Robert J. Wilke was chosen for the re-shoot after a careful search and screen tests; this second re-shoot involved nearly every scene of the new material and a number of scenes earlier in the picture. Three quarters of the way through this second re-shoot, Hughes saw Raymond Burr in a movie and ordered Wilke's scenes re-shot using Burr. The re-shoots cost about $850,000 to complete, which as it happens was approximately the same amount of money which the film lost in its initial 1951 release. This sort of thing doesn’t happen these days as there aren’t any producers like Hughes anymore but for good reason. No one becomes an executive producer to lose money and films are planned before they are shot. The idea of changing everything after the film has been completed it staggering today but at the time it was done. It’s a good thing too, as I can’t help but think that His Kind of Woman is the father of the action film as we know it today. There is drama, mystery and romance but with humour and character development. I know they are worlds apart but whenever I see Arnold Schwarzenegger’s True Lies or John Woo’s Face/Off, I always think of His Kind of Woman. The Bond films also owe it some gratitude. In all honesty the film is a bit of confusing mess but I love it. The largely improvised script is as sharp as a knife and the cast is brilliant. Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell are perfect opposite one another, Vincent Price and Jim Backus provide comedic light relief, Tim Holt provides the most bizarre fake drunken performance of all time and Ironside (Raymond Burr) is the film’s villain. What’s not to love?

Age of Consent

Dir: Michael Powell

1969

****

Age of Consent has become something of a cult film, although I don’t personally consider it a masterpiece as many do, especially as it was directed by the legendary director Michael Powell. However, I did enjoy it, and no, not just because it features a young naked Helen Mirren. The story is based on Norman Lindsay's 1938 novel that was actually banned in Australia for several years. The novel was later adapted into the 1994 film Sirens, starring Hugh Grant, Sam Neill, and Elle Macpherson. The first adaptation was announced in 1961 by producer Oscar Nichols who said he wanted Dan O'Herlihy and Glynis Johns to make the film. In 1962 Michael Pate bought the rights and he eventually brought in Michael Powell. Several changes were made from Lindsay's novel including shifting the location from New South Wales to the Barrier Reef and making the artist a success instead of a failure. While the film was still in production, director Michael Powell said “My next film is the story of a painter who believes that he will no longer paint and of a girl who persuades him to begin again...He will probably end up painting her; but to see a painter sit down and paint a girl, this could be exciting, but I had the hardest time explaining to my scriptwriter that this didn't excite me at all. What interested me was the problem of Creation and the fact that this creation in the case of the painter was very physical. He will have to struggle, to fight, even more strongly than he will move away from reality. It will be a slightly bitter comedy that I will produce with James Mason who will play the leading role.” Powell and Mason had wanted to work together in the past, on I Know Where I'm Going!, but had not been able to come to an agreement on billing and Mason was unwilling to go on location to Scotland. It was originally intended to cast an unknown seventeen-year-old Australian actress opposite Mason but in the end twenty-two-year-old Helen Mirren was chosen. For some reason they added the line "Miss Mirren is a member of the Royal Shakespeare Company" underneath her name. maybe it was to let the audience know she was an actor and not just a model who had agreed to take off her clothes, I don’t know, but I’ve always thought it to be rather condescending. That said, maybe it was on her request and she had predicted the sort of interview Michael Parkinson gave her six years later, but like I say, I really don’t know. The film follows Bradley Morahan (James Mason), an Australian artist who feels he has become jaded by success and life in New York City. He decides that he needs to regain the edge he had as a young artist and returns to Australia. He sets up in a shack, just him and his dog (who receives his own credit at the beginning of the film), on the shore of a small, sparsely inhabited island on the Great Barrier Reef. There he meets young Cora Ryan (Helen Mirren), who has grown up wild, with her only relative, her difficult, gin-guzzling grandmother 'Ma' (Neva Carr Glyn). To earn money, Cora sells Bradley fish that she has caught in the sea. She later sells him a chicken which she has stolen from his spinster neighbour Isabel Marley (Andonia Katsaros). When Bradley is suspected of being the thief, he pays Isabel and gets Cora to promise not to steal any more. To help her save enough money to fulfill her dream of becoming a hairdresser in Brisbane, he pays her to be his model. She reinvigorates him, becoming his artistic muse. Bradley's work is disrupted when his sponging longtime "friend" Nat Kelly (Jack MacGowran) shows up. Nat is hiding from the police over alimony he owes. When Bradley refuses to give him a loan, Nat invites himself to stay with Bradley. After several days, Bradley's patience becomes exhausted, but Nat then focuses his attention on romancing Isabel, hoping to get some money from her. Instead, she unexpectedly ravishes him. The next day, he hastily departs the island, but not before stealing Bradley's money and some of his drawings. Ma subsequently catches Cora posing nude for Bradley and accuses him of carrying on with her underage granddaughter. Bradley protests that he has done nothing improper. Finally, he gives her the little money he has left to get her to go away. When Cora discovers that Ma has found her hidden cache of money, she chases after her. In the ensuing struggle, Ma falls down a hill, breaks her neck, and dies. The local policeman sees no reason to investigate further, since the old woman was known to be frequently drunk. Later that night, Cora goes to Bradley's shack, but is disappointed when he seems to view her only as his model. When she runs out, Bradley follows her into the water, where he finally comes to view her as a desirable young woman. Mason’s accent isn’t great, although I love his voice, and the desire between both he and Mirren is never really that convincing. I didn’t find the last scene to be the most logic as neither character ever saw each other as anything other than an opportunity – inspiration for him and a way out for her. As much as I enjoyed Jack MacGowran’s performance, he brought the film back to the typical sex comedy of the era, when before his appearance it all seemed rather grown up and contemporary. The younger actor’ performances were a stark contrast to the more seasoned actor’s performances and they never really worked in unison. Months later Michael Powell admitted the film had turned out to be too comedic, suggesting it was "A sensual comedy. Not a big success, but interesting anyway." The film will always be best remembered for the nude Helen Mirren and the problems the production had with censorship. It’s a shame in many respects, because all of the great scenes and the clever script have been overlooked ever since. It is a nice film, no masterpiece and no where near Powell’s finest work but it does have a lot of charm to it and it remains a fascinating film for various different reasons.

Annie Hall

Dir: Woody Allen

1977

****

Annie Hall is frequently regarded as one of Woody Allen's best films, however, Allen has been often quoted in interviews saying that he doesn't think very highly of it, only being able to see how much it doesn't live up to what he really wanted it to be. Personally I admire it for all of the ground it breaks and I do quite like the story. I’m drawn to the nostalgia that surrounds it and the many conversations I’ve had about it at film school and since. However, it is far from my favourite Woody Allen film, even though it features many of my favourite Woody Allen moments. It was the first of many collaborations between Allen and cinematographer Gordon Willis, it was a love letter to New York in the 1970’s and the film where Allen cemented himself as a character, inventing his now infamous persona, mixing his Jewish identity, psycoanalysis, existential anxiety and failed love life in the form of celebration, the celebration focused on his love of film and home town of New York. The idea for what would become Annie Hall was developed as Allen walked around New York City with co-writer Marshall Brickman. The pair discussed the project on alternative days, sometimes becoming frustrated and rejecting the idea. Allen wrote a first draft of a screenplay within a four-day period, sending it to Brickman to make alterations. According to Brickman, this draft centered on a man in his forties, someone whose life consisted "of several strands. One was a relationship with a young woman, another was a concern with the banality of the life that we all live, and a third an obsession with proving himself and testing himself to find out what kind of character he had. Allen himself turned forty in 1975, and Brickman suggests that "advancing age" and "worries about death" had influenced Allen's philosophical, personal approach to complement his "commercial side". Allen made the conscious decision to "sacrifice some of the laughs for a story about human beings". He recognized that for the first time he had the courage to abandon the safety of complete broad comedy and had the will to produce a film of deeper meaning which would be a nourishing experience for the audience. He was also influenced by Federico Fellini's 1963 comedy-drama 8½, created at a similar personal turning point, and similarly colored by each director's psychoanalysis. Annie Hall uses both therapy and analysis for comic effect. It’s a story about memory and retrospection, which dramatises a return via narrative desire to the repressed and the unconscious in a manner similar to psychoanalysis. It’s a self-conscious assertion of how narrative desire and humor interact to reform ideas and perceptions and Allen's deployment of Freudian concepts and humor forms a pattern of skepticism toward surface meaning that compels further interpretation. Freud is all over Annie Hall. Several devices in the film, particularly the scene with the subtitles which reveal Annie's and Alvy's thoughts, extend and reinforce Annie Hall 's winsome ethos of plain-dealing and ingenuousness. The film is full of antimimetic emblems, my favourite being Marshall McLuhan’s cameo appearance, which provides unexpected quirky humor and that the disparity between mental projections of reality and actuality is what is driving the film. Federico Fellini and Luis Buñuel were asked to play this part first but only McLuhan was available, which wasn’t a bad thing as his work on media theory made for a more interesting discussion than talking with Fellini and Buñuel about their films would have been (although my inner cinephile wishes they had been available). These self-reflective cinematic devices intelligently dramatize the difference between surface and substance, with visual emblems incessantly distilling the distinction between the world mentally constructed and reality. It’s where modernism infiltrated Hollywood to the point where it couldn’t go back and be what it once was. Annie Hall is an unresolved examination of the process of human interaction and interpersonal communication which immediately establishes a self-referential stance that invites the spectator to read the narrative as something other than a sequential development toward some transcendent truth. Woody Allen’s character, who is essentially Woody Allen himself, is effected by basic problems first experienced as a child (as seen in flashbacks, some of which are set in a therapist's office with his mother. These problems such as poverty, envy, inadequacy and discordant parents are masked by a supposed existential crisis. It’s basically what you either love or hate about Woody Allen’s films. The film is framed through Alvy's experiences. What we know about Annie and about the relationship comes filtered through Alvy, an intrusive narrator capable of halting the narrative and stepping out from it in order to entreat the audience's interpretative favor. The protagonist is blurred with past and future protagonists as well as with Allen himself, so the audiences reaction depends on whether we are most responsive to the director's or the character's framing of events. This is the answer as to whether Brickman and Allen sent the screenplay back and forth until they were ready to ask United Artists for $4 million. Many elements from the early drafts did not survive. It was originally a drama centered on a murder mystery with a comic and romantic subplot. According to Allen, the murder occurred after a scene that remains in the film, the sequence in which Annie and Alvy miss the Ingmar Bergman film Face to Face. Although they decided to drop the murder plot, Allen and Brickman made a murder mystery many years later: 1993's Manhattan Murder Mystery, also starring Diane Keaton. The draft that Allen presented to the film's editor, Ralph Rosenblum, concluded with the words, "ending to be shot." Allen suggested Anhedonia, a term for the inability to experience pleasure, as a working title and Brickman suggested alternatives including It Had to Be Jew, Rollercoaster Named Desire and Me and My Goy. An advertising agency, hired by United Artists, embraced Allen's choice of an obscure word by suggesting the studio take out newspaper advertisements that looked like fake tabloid headlines such as "Anhedonia Strikes Cleveland!". However, Allen experimented with several titles over five test screenings, including Anxiety and Annie and Alvy, before settling on Annie Hall. Annie Hall was written specifically for Diane Keaton (Annie being short for Diane and Hall being her maiden name) but the film is as much a love song to New York City as it is to the character. Allen would declare his love for Manhattan many times again, particularly in films like Manhattan and Hannah and Her Sisters. I think this is what I like about the film more than anything, Allen’s passions on show and honoured with plenty of heart. I also admire its honesty and wonderful writing, the modern techniques and of course Diane Keaton. It has a couple of great lines, many now infamous and all having the desired effect. It has never been one of my favourite movies or even my favourite Allen movie but I love the scene where Annie and Alvy are in a line for The Sorrow and the Pity and overhear another man deriding the work of Federico Fellini and Marshall McLuhan. The real Marshall McLuhan himself then steps in at Alvy's invitation to criticize the man's comprehension. It appeals to me on so many levels and I bet there are countless film makers who hate Woody Allen for thinking of it before they did. It’s not completely to my tastes but I can’t deny its something of a modernist masterpiece.

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Dir: John Schlesinger

1971

*****

John Schlesinger’s now iconic 1971 drama Sunday, Bloody Sunday is a fascinating period piece that is both dated and contemporary. Set in a time of economic chaos and dealing with a taboo which still exists today, the film explores the brutal reality of the 1960s free love ideal as the world moves into the new decade. Set in London, it tells the story of divorced workingwoman Alex Greville (Glenda Jackson) and well-to-do Jewish family doctor Daniel Hirsh (Peter Finch) who not only share the same answering service but who are also romantically and sexually involved with sculptor Bob Elkin (Murray Head), a younger man in his mid-20s. Not only are Hirsh and Greville both aware that Elkin is seeing the other but they know one another through common friends. Despite this, they are willing to put up with the situation through fear of losing Elkin, who switches freely between them. For Greville, the relationship is bound up with growing disillusion about her professional life, failed marriage and uneasy childhood. For Hirsh, it represents an escape from the repressed nature of his Jewish upbringing. Both realise the lack of permanence about the situation and when Elkin decides to leave the country to settle in New York City (after receiving an offer to open his own art gallery) they both become lost after a long time of apologetically yet furiously settling for the crumbs they can get from their cool younger lover. They meet face to face (for the first and only time in the film) and despite their opposed circumstances, Hirsh and Greville come to realize that it is time to move on as Elkin leaves. Glenda Jackson and Peter Finch both fantastic in their contrasting performances but Murray Head’s performance is much less successful. Whilst he captures Bob's egotistical nature, there's no counter-balance of charm, leaving me wondering exactly what either Alex or Daniel really saw in him. Perhaps that is the point? I can’t think of another film that tackles the theme as successfully, in fact, I can’t think of another film that tackles the theme at all – maybe no other director dare now that it has been perfected. This was a great progressive piece for John Schlesinger but a contrast from his previous work. As much as I loved his early kitchen-sink working class dramas like A Kind of Loving and the gritty fantasy Billy Liar they were always very much in the film realm. Midnight Cowboy was a glossy grand finale to the 1960s and has since become one of the most iconic films in the history of cinema – but wouldn’t know it was directed by the same person that made Sunday, Bloody Sunday. His 1971 piece felt like real life, even writing this review decades later it feels real, indeed, the only thing that dates the film are the clothes and technology. I loved the way the film did flinch regarding the infidelity and the homosexual relationship, it got on with the story and concentrated on what it was all about and that was the characters themselves. It caused a stir among many audiences that missed the point and there was, supposedly, a scream at a director's screening of the film, much to Schlesinger's consternation, during the scene where Peter Finch and Murray Head first kiss. It came from Finch’s wife. It is a remarkable and remarkably mature examination of love in all its aspects and is yet to be matched in many respects. The story is so strong you would be forgiven for forgetting just how striking the film is visually. It features some of the most memorable imagery in British cinema, from the dead dog lying in the middle of the road and the alternative – the dead girl lying in the same spot, to the scene where the five children (aged between 5-12) sit on their parents bed smoking marijuana. The supporting cast are made up of a lively group of actors who help bring the story to life no end, it is astonishing watching this film, knowing what was mainstream in England at the time. One said supporting actor was Fourteen-year-old Daniel Day-Lewis who made his screen debut in this film, as a teenage street vandal. He described his first acting experience, in which he was paid £2 to vandalize expensive cars parked outside his local church in Petersfield, Hampshire, as "heaven." I’m still confused however, how one man can produce Billy Liar, Midnight Cowboy, Sunday, Bloody Sunday and Marathon Man – four completely different films but each one a favorite of mine. I love all his films, I’m not sure Sunday, Bloody Sunday is my favorite but I would argue that it is his most striking, most influential and most accomplished.