Criterion Sale Final Haul

Well it’s the beginning of August which means it’s also the end of the Criterion sale at Barnes and Noble. I would like to think that my single month record which I nearly doubled this month will not be beaten, but I could theoretically win the Powerball and then all bets are off. What’s truly astonishing, and something you might have wondered while reading this is how damn many films I’ve found to get. No one could say I was a slouch in the Criterion blu-ray department on July 9^th before this sale started. Yet somehow every trip I find myself easily picking up ten new titles, often putting a couple back to restrain myself, aka get it next time. I did manage to make one final trip on the last day mainly to exchange my damaged copy of Love Streams, but crossed a couple extras off as well.

The Emmy nominations were announced last week and I do not watch enough television to bitch about it. I’m happy The Watchmen got the most nominations, and certainly pleased What We Do In the Shadows is up for best comedy series. Professional team sports ball also returned in the past week or so, and if the Marlins have anything to say about it, it will promptly get canceled before my next birthday (August 12). So there are new and exciting things to distract me from watching movies, but I did make it through another somewhat torturous Chantal Akerman film (four more to go). Thanks to the Criterion Channel I also checked out Secrets, a Frank Borzage film from 1932 and one of the last films Mary Pickford put out. It was fine, but it felt like a 3 hour film that was edited down to 75 minutes. Literal decades were skipped past and it was a bit all over the place. Not sure if Frances Marion had more ambitious ideas with her script or it was conceived to be that disjointed. Also a studio picture epic with what looked like a B-movie budget didn’t do it any favors.

If you’re curious, we did get through another Wes Anderson feature (Darjeeling Limited) with Hotel Monterrey to boot. I did resist the urge to upgrade my Darjeeling disc, but perhaps in a future sale when I knock off a few dozen others. What’s most alarming and amazing about this sale is how many damn Criterion releases I want. Even running through my checklist after I got home I noticed several titles that I probably would have purchased if they were at the store. Typically the end of the sale means one last online order for whatever wasn’t available, but barnesandnoble.com was very cleaned out.

So here it is, the final round of purchases, now I just have to put them in order in my bookcase:

Silence of the Lambs - FINALLY!!! Well I went to Old Orchard and dug around through the entire section, listening to an older gentleman exhale very loudly and whistle into his mask in a most distracting fashion. Then I overheard an associate say “I’ll be right there after I re-stock these Criterions.” My ears perked up, and I sauntered over to offer my assistance. He asked if there was any particular title I was looking for and I said Silence of the Lambs. He dug around, said “Here you go” and my excitement fell flat when I realized it was a DVD. He looked through it some more and said that was the only copy. Then he let me take a gander and after finding a few things, near the end of the box was another copy, this time on blu-ray. I did not think I would strike out so many times, but now I finally have this damn movie on blu-ray and I can relax and watch it again for the first time in nearly two decades. Or take another two decades to re-watch it, whatever happens first.

The Night Porter - For those that only know Charlotte Rampling from 45 Years, let me tell you something. That woman was a god damn dynamo in her youth. The Night Porter blurs the line between art film and sleaze in the best way imaginable, and Rampling holds it down with authority. It is both problematic and fantastic with so much grey area to wallow in.

Carnival of Souls - I’m not going to pretend I’m cool and say that I always loved this offbeat low-budget cult horror film. In fact I thought it was boring and kinda dumb. It was always a public domain title and I’m sure I watched it in that form. Being an early Criterion release I was at first perplexed it was deemed worthy of inclusion. Over the years though I’ve wanted to give it another go, and this obviously seems like the ideal method. I’ve garnered a lot more respect for the more moody and atmospheric horror films, especially the anomalies from the fringes. Maybe one day Spider Baby will join the collection.

Rashomon - You might be wondering, but I didn’t have this film already. My DVD copy of it was a Korean bootleg with English subs. I’ve meant to upgrade it for the past 18 years or so, and every sale I simply said next time. I’ve seen Rashomon more times than I can count, and even made Caroline sit through it, so I figured it might be a long while before I sit through it again. When I picked up High and Low and the Yojimbo-Sanjuro two-pack I figured I might as well knock this one out. There are a few Kurosawa blu-rays I still don’t have but do own on DVD, Dreams would be his only release I have no copy of other than maybe a VHS tape somewhere. I’m curious to listen to Donald Richie’s commentary because in my opinion he is the authority on Kurosawa’s work. Also that commentary might distract me from the baffling acting choices.

Woman in the Dunes - Hiroshi Teshigahara is never mentioned first among the great Japanese directors, but Woman in the Dunes is a certified masterpiece. A weird tale of Stockholm syndrome from a reversed gender perspective, it remains his most enduring work. Several of his films got released in a set on DVD, but this and his documentary on Antonio Gaudi are the only blu-ray offerings. This fell into the same boat as Rashomon as a Japanese classic that it was high time to upgrade.

Breathless - I’ve bitched at length about some of Godard’s Criterion releases, and I still don’t think this is a perfect release, but it’s a damn sight better. Like Rashomon this was another one-of-those-days releases that I’ve seen 5-6 times. Since I did make Caroline sit through this a couple of years ago I figured my own need to revisit it would be assuaged for some time. The selling point other than it simply being time however was the inclusion of Mark Rappaport’s Jean Seberg, a not too easy to find film before this release. It also includes Godard’s early short Charlotte et son Jules.

Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters - Ever see a movie that is just phenomenal and then you never think of it again? That’s kinda how Paul Schrader’s masterpiece is. I saw this back in 2007 or so and loved it. Never thought about getting it, and pretty sure I even passed up on it a few times this month. Somehow with my other Japanese films I thought about how I actually enjoyed this film more than Rashomon and Woman in the Dunes. You really couldn’t ask for a better collection of extras, and if you haven’t seen or even heard of this film, check it out, one of the best 80s movies period.

Broadcast News - It’s easy to think of James L. Brooks as a TV man. He produced some wildly successful shows, including The Simpsons, and if anything his brother Albert (who co-stars here) might have appeared to be the more interesting filmmaker. However James did take a stab at directing and won himself all of the awards for Terms of Endearment. In my opinion it is a no-brainer that his follow up Broadcast News was the superior film. It does feature William Hurt during his extremely impressive 80s run and Holly Hunter who can almost make you forget how great she was in Raising Arizona the same year.

Anatomy of a Murder - Nearly every Criterion sale for the past two years I look at my collection and think “I have Anatomy of a Murder right?” Well I do now. Perhaps it was the fact that I built a classic movie puzzle this week that featured Saul Bass’s iconic cover, but when the disc was sitting in that box of titles to re-stock I jumped on it. The film is worth it for Duke Ellington’s score and although it’s impact might have dulled a bit over time it was a rather boundary pushing landmark in it’s day. Preminger loved to be provocative and this might be his best work.

The Gold Rush - For now this seems like the last of the well established classics that I reluctantly added to blu-ray. On it’s own The Gold Rush remains one of the best films from the 1920s, this release is a massive upgrade from the public domain version I’ve had on DVD for the past 20+ years. Never been super keen on the narrated version but along with Limelight (which will be discussed shortly) this was the last of the major Chaplin blu-ray releases I didn’t have. I should make an exception for Monsieur Verdoux but that’s handled later. It does mean something to have a classic film in it’s definitive version. I’ve spent the past several years convinced that the next Criterion sale would be when I pick this up.

Repo Man - What’s wonderful about the Criterion Collection is the fact that they have obscure cult movies released right alongside the most pretentious art films. Alex Cox whose Sid and Nancy was one of the earliest Criterion releases hit pay-dirt with this earlier film. Emilio Estevez and Harry Dean Stanton are both perfection here. There are many stylized classic films worth owning and re-visiting on Criterion but those oddball cult classics seem to be the most interesting. Repo Man has arguably the single greatest product placement outside of Wayne’s World but it easily maintains it’s credibility. Being someone raised on cult movies, it is always appreciated when a significant film has such a great release.

La Notte - There are some directors who just seem to own a decade. Renoir in the 30s, Kurosawa in the 50s, but Michelangelo Antonioni can make a case for himself in the 60s. I still have L’Avventura on DVD, but all of his other classic work I had on blu-ray. The one exception was La Notte, the second film in his unofficial trilogy of existential ennui. I’ll give you one guess why I never got it, that’s right there is no audio commentary track. Nearly every decade I find it necessary to revisit all of Antonioni’s classic films and they are all different degrees of fantastic. Perhaps La Notte doesn’t quite reach the levels of the preceding and following films, but it’s a solid middle entry. Damn sight better than Bergman’s trilogy of the same era.

Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion - So if memory serves there is a bootleg DVD of this somewhere in my possession. It was first brought to my attention by Jack Ellis’ History of Film book, which led me to track down my earlier version. When Ennio Morricone passed away a few weeks ago I saw this among his accomplishments. Whenever an obscure movie you have on DVD-R gets a proper blu-ray release it is a cause for celebration, so that means I probably should have picked up Death By Hanging. Italian cinema in the late 60s and early 70s was quite exciting. Although I watched that bootleg I have literally no memory of it. I definitely picked this up in tribute to Morricone but even then it was a last second addition.

The Bitter Tears of Petra Von Kant - Before I watched Berlin Alexanderplatz this was my favorite Rainer Werner Fassbinder film. As quarantine kicked in it got a little love as a great kammerspiel, or chamber drama. It is a fantastic example of cinema in an enclosed environment. Fassbinder used tons of long takes and a cast of all his regular females to make a thoroughly engaging melodrama. Like so many of my recent releases this was another film that I had kicking around on VHS. The special features are not some first ballot hall-of-fame quality stuff but it was certainly better than nothing.

Limelight - Chaplin’s Gold Rush falls into the same category as Rashomon and Breathless. Two essential classics that I revisited not too long ago that have Criterion releases I never got. Monsieur Verdoux I own on Image DVD so despite it being a better film than Limelight, I passed for now. Limelight though is the other other Chaplin blu-ray title I didn’t yet own. Hopefully some day A King in New York gets updated, so this will remain for a time his latest release. It is noteworthy as the only film to star both Chaplin and Keaton, and a nice bonus is two of his early two-reel comedies.

La Chienne - Did someone say Renoir? Well I did earlier, go ahead and scroll back. His first feature sound film is amazing. It was remade as Scarlet Street by Fritz Lang, and that version is also great. I wanted to update some Renoir titles this month, and this wound up being the only one I bought. I still get plenty of mileage out of my Rules of the Game DVD, but would love to see Boudu make the jump, which is a great joke if you’ve seen the film. A Day in the Country was also going to be mine this month but the disc was rattling around inside and I figured best not to take a chance it’s scratched. Unfortunately for this release the most prominent extra is On purge bebe, his first sound film which was used to help finance this. The reason I say unfortunately is because it’s an objectively terrible movie and arguably the only dud Renoir crapped out (another joke relevant to that film) during the thirties.

So that’s a lot for the month. I aim to write about a broader spectrum of topics going forward, but this little obsessive month crossed a lot off of my list. Until next time, keep watching movies.

*blogspot has changed their formatting a bit so if things look a little off, bear with me as I adjust.

Breathless (1960) - Jean-Luc Godard

There have been more film movements over the past century than I would care to calculate.  Some are vaguely defined, some were stylistic, some were political, some geographical, but few did more to reshape the concept of cinema quite like the French New Wave.  Godard’s debut feature, Breathless still remains the movement’s most definitive and most influential film.

The film’s reputation has been so exalted and canonized over the past several decades that it seems completely intertwined with film history.  I believe it helps clearly separate cinema into two distinct eras, the pre-Godard and the post.  The rules of cinema were open for debate, the subject matter could be anything, the methods of production were flexible, and things were never quite the same afterward. 

As indebted as this film is in history it’s legend began during production.  Godard who was a pretty well established film critic from Cahiers du Cinema, knew the power of the press when it came to making or breaking a movie.  He made sure to have various journalists visit the set and write about his unorthodox filming methods and had himself proclaimed as some sort of mad genius long before the public even got a glimpse of the film.  It was a calculated move that paid off and helped to ensure the film’s success as well as Godard’s desire to be included as a true cinematic auteur.

Now before I shit all over the film, I’d like to point out a few of the things that completely deserve praise and exaltation.  For starters, there is a certain sense of joy in this film that is noticeably absent from Godard’s later films.  He seems to legitimately be enjoying the process of making a film.  Godard had numerous false starts getting his first feature financed, and he was the last of the 5 seminal directors of the Cahiers group to begin his first feature (although Jacques Rivette’s Paris Nous Appartient ran out of financing, and wasn‘t finished until after Breathless premiered).  Godard was in fact so excited to get to make a film he didn’t really stop to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

The story was originally suggested by friend and fellow filmmaker Francois Truffaut.  It was based on a real life incident involving a man who shot a motorcycle cop in 1952 before being turned in by his American girlfriend.  In reality the criminal was apprehended, Godard saw a much more Hollywood style dramatic ending in mind for his version.  As he would do countless times in the future when given a synopsis, Godard changed a good amount of the details and the finished product barely resembled either the real life incident or the much more conventional script treatment Truffaut submitted.

The opening sequence is still quite exceptional, and I am under the impression that many critics and film fans base their praise of the film on these first 10 minutes or so.  The beginning has no formal credits, much like Welles’ Citizen Kane, but does have a dedication to Monogram Pictures which firmly sets the tone for the low-budget film noir homage the picture would become.  With a handheld camera, the film feels deeply personal.  Everything was shot on location, and the jump cuts are jarring but not disorienting.  Godard is drawing attention to the artifice of cinema in a very deliberate way.  The cuts are noticeable, but thanks to a unified sound track, they are easily followed.  The movie was shot without direct sound, so everything from dialogue to street sounds were done in post production.  This underlying sonic element helps to keep the film from derailing into amateurish territory.  Godard filmed several moments, including the chase from alternating angels, and when editing Michel pointing the gun at the police officer, the reverse shot is oriented to be pointing back at Michel.  Rather than sloppy editing, this is more of a deliberate attempt to break up the rules of continuity.  In the case of the gun, it makes it seem like Michel needs to shoot the officer in order to keep himself from being shot.

One criticism of the film is the fact that it is extremely amateurish.  No doubt Godard would find himself on the short list of greatest directors ever, but he had no clue what he was doing on this film.  He would write dialogue the day of the shoot, hand it to his actors and shout out the lines.  Since there was no direct sound, he knew everything would be dubbed after the fact.  It was infuriating for his actors who were barely able to tolerate what they saw as a madman without a clue. 

The final film was well over the two hour mark when initially completed.  Godard’s producer Georges de Beauregard insisted on delivering a 90 minute film to the theaters.  When discussing what to cut, Godard consulted with his friend and mentor, the director Jean Pierre Melville who appears as the celebrity Patricia (Jean Seberg) interviews for her paper.  Melville suggested cutting everything that was unnecessary to the central plot, that of the criminal Michel (Jean Paul Belmondo), Patricia, and his flight from the law.   This meant Melville suggested cutting his own scene, but Godard had another idea.  Rather than chop up entire scenes, he decided to remove fragments of each scene.  The idea was to trim whatever felt lagging or slowed the film down, regardless of whether it was an entire scene or merely a couple of shots.  This tightened up some of the scenes and helps explain the practical reason why there are so many jump cuts. 

Godard’s numerous film references and homage’s were also relatively new at the time.  Truffaut did make a small reference to cinema in The 400 Blows, but it was mostly a knowing bit of encouragement to his buddy Rivette’s yet incomplete Paris Nous Appartient.  Aside from the beginning dedication, Belmondo is constantly mimicking Bogart’s look, which is juxtaposed rather deliberately with a poster of his last film The Harder They Fall.  The film audio we hear in the film is from Otto Preminger’s Whirlpool, and several other posters and references pop up.  Melville’s presence is in itself an homage, as Godard was a very big fan of his Bob Le Flambeur, which was an early influence on Breathless.  For better or worse countless followers would show their love of cinema and throw in knowing winks to their idols and influences.

Melville being as pretentious as he can

Much of the dialogue is pretty ridiculous.  Patricia is perhaps fashioned after a classic femme fatale but she just seems painfully apathetic.  Most of Michel’s comments towards her seem to be about her promiscuity, a fact that he doesn’t even attempt to conceal about himself.  Her denunciation of him is announced so casually.  Both characters aren’t particularly likeable, but the actors playing them are so it certainly supports Fellini and Woody Allen’s ideas that casting was more than half the battle when making a film.

This scene might be boring but those abs aren't

The film is not a flawless masterpiece however.  The debt future filmmakers owe to Godard and this film is nearly impossible to calculate, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the film itself is great.  The plot is standard enough low budget noir fare, but the lack of focus is apparent throughout.  Virtually a third of the film’s running time is just Michel and Patricia hanging out in her room talking and smoking cigarettes.  The scene works in a small way because of the screen charisma of it’s two leads, but the conversation is just the somewhat slightly immature and insecure ramblings of a director who is noticeably speaking through his actors. 

There is a wonderful spontaneity to the film that is part of it’s charm.  Shot on location with a skeleton crew, many of the street scenes were filmed with a small lightweight camera by Coutard sitting in a wheelchair being pushed by Godard.  Some police actually did show up when they filmed Michel’s death scene, and Belmondo deliberately timed his collapse to be right before landing in oncoming traffic.  Godard was obsessed with filming everything with available light, which led to some creative fixes for night scenes.  There was only one lab they could get film sensitive enough to shoot at night without added lighting, but it only ran in roughly 30 second reels, which led to Godard and Coutard hand splicing the film together.  Coutard would prove to be a willing partner, and their frequent collaborations in the future proved they did work extremely well together.  Godard’s main reasoning for shooting with natural light was the freedom it provided.  Godard hated the mechanical aspects of filming, and made sure he could be free to just film and make it up as he went along.

Godard and Coutard trailing their actors

I’m not sure how much of Godard’s spontaneous ingenuity was just plain laziness.  I mentioned earlier how Godard wrote the dialogue each day before filming, but much of the film was shot in the same haphazard way.  He wanted no producers on the set and kept the bare minimum of crew by union laws.  Godard also loved to not work.  Many days shooting would last on average 3 hours, where he would film a couple of random scenes and then dismiss for the day.  Much of the cast and crew found it incredibly unprofessional, and based on the style Belmondo for one thought that the film would be an incomprehensible mess that would never be released.  Jean Seberg, who made her acting debut following a well publicized talent search for Otto Preminger, found the conditions appalling.  Preminger may have tormented his actress, but he at least knew what he was doing on set. 

Godard rarely gave his actors any direction, preferring vague comments that had little to do with the film.  His instructions for Coutard were similarly cryptic, which is partially because Godard had no idea what he even wanted.  He spent so long just wanting to make a movie, he didn’t necessarily plan out how to do it.  Thanks in part to Coutard and the near documentary aspects of the location photography the film is still filled with highlights, but the rambling indecision of it’s auteur is apparent, especially on multiple viewings.  Godard’s main ambition seemed to be to make sure everything was in focus and the film at least looked professional, the rest could be figured out later.

Breathless despite it’s flaws and apparent sloppiness is still among the 5 or 10 most important films ever made.  Not only did it help break the French New Wave to an international audience, it inspired legions of film fanatics to make their own film.  Never was its influence more apparent than in the next decade’s American films.  The “film school” directors of 70s were all heavily indebted to the French New Wave, probably none more so than Martin Scorsese and Brian De Palma. 

Breathless can be compared to Birth of a Nation in terms of it’s importance, but the flaws of that film bare little resemblance to the ones here.  Griffith was an accomplished pro who was at the top of his craft, but also a bit of a racist.  Feel free to read my last blog post for elaboration.  Godard did have some extreme right-wing sympathies during this period in his life, and many accused his early films of being outright fascist.  Breathless however can hardly be called fascist or racist by a modern audience.  Oddly enough he was criticized by many of his peers for not being overtly political with this film.  Anyone familiar with some of Godard’s later work, particularly anything from about 1966 on would know that he more than made up for the absence of his political convictions early on.

Patricia mimicking Michel mimicking Bogart

Godard has a tendency to take himself far too seriously in his later work.  His recent films almost feel like grueling homework to sit through, so there is some solace in the entertaining aspects of this film.  The plot is fairly straightforward if a bit rambling, which is something to note compared to how incomprehensible some of his later work would get.  This would remain his most universally liked and praised film.  Although different Godard fans would all have their own personal favorite, it’s hard to argue that Breathless isn’t the best place to start.  I still think it’s a great film, just a far from perfect one.  It will forever be the defining moment of the New Wave, and the moment where cinema would never be the same.