IL CINEMA RITROVATO, JUNE 28 – JULY 5, 2014
BOLOGNA, ITALY
Bologna does for
nostalgia in a few days more than any other impetus. This year, the William Wellman retrospective yielded
many fresh and vibrant films. I
thoroughly enjoyed Beggars of Life (1928), The Man I Love (1929), Night
Nurse (1931), Other Men’s Women (1931) and A
Star is Born (1937), all shown in very good 35mm prints. A major discovery was the German director
Werner Hochbaum, whose avant-garde sensibilities inter-woven with narrative
story-telling of 1930s Germany, sparked many an interesting conversation and my
admiration. His unique style and
expertly edited films were a pleasure to behold. Immediately following a Hochbaum screening, I
heard someone say, “I cannot believe I never even heard of Werner
Hochbaum! I can’t wait to see the other
films!” Then, 10 seconds later, just a
few feet away I heard someone else say, “Well, I was told that I should check
out the Hochbaum films. I have seen one and
that’s enough! Hochbaum has all the
irritating stylistic touches of contemporary directors - only he was doing it in
the 1930s!”
This year, a new
event to their already exciting programme is the transformation of the Cineteca
Bologna courtyard, called the Little Piazza Pasolini, into an open-air
late-night cinema for a couple of screenings. The special projection was
done via a large projector that uses a carbon lantern. Watching Germaine Dulac's entertaining 1928
film, La Princesse Mandane, in a gorgeous 35mm print with the strong
scent of carbon burning in the air was quite an experience. The carbon lantern produced a shimmering,
velvet cascade of black and white pictures that glowed in the night.
The lustre of the
images created by this unique projection brought back memories of my childhood
and visits to A. J., our faithful and hard-working projectionist at the Roxy
Cinema in Leonora, Guyana. The old projectors at the Roxy also used
carbon. Even after 23 long years, the
familiarity of that scent, the cool late-night breeze and the dance of flickering
images, re-opened memories and made that screening an emotional experience.
Amidst all of this, I remembered A.J. himself and how kind he was to me
and my endless questions. I would watch him closely as he wrote the glass
plates for the slides of the coming attractions. I would help him run the
films on a spinner post-projection and put them back in their cans. If I
did a good job, he would give me pieces of spliced 35mm film. A.J. is no longer alive but I will never
forget him. It was only after his death I realized that I had never ever found
out what his initials stood for. Visiting
Guyana many years later and seeing all that remained of the abandoned Roxy Cinema
was an empty space and dilapidated pieces of an instantly recognizable yellow
and black concrete wall with a diamond design... well, there are no words to
describe the impact of such a sight. But
thanks to a festival like Il Cinema Ritrovato, memories never die. And
suddenly, without rhyme or reason, during a screening at this very special
festival, a sweet, buried memory is rejuvenated and the floodgates of nostalgia
are opened. Of the 44 films I saw, these
are my favourites, in order of preference:
****
LIFE BEGINS
TOMORROW
35mm | 1933 | Germany | 76 min | Werner Hochbaum | Programme: The Films of Werner Hochbaum
The
obscure German director, Werner Hochbaum, has crafted an artistic tableau suffused
in stylistic rigour. A woman receives a
note from her imprisoned husband indicating that he will be released the next
day at 9 a.m. He is expecting her to be
there when he is released and they will begin a new life tomorrow. What transpires in between the time the letter
is received and the climax is an event of countless innovations. Way ahead of its time, the editing technique,
the continuous flow of the camera, the stunning dissolves - all brilliantly
executed. I don’t think I have ever seen
a room filmed from the point of view of a violin before! Time plays an integral part of the film’s
motif and there are innumerable shots of clocks everywhere, including a most
curious shot of a close-up of the back of an alarm clock focusing on the
winding keys. When he is released from
prison, the man is recognized by neighbours and suddenly the soundtrack is
filled with a cacophonic hiss of whispers coupled with shots of women opening
and closing windows, their lips in close-up and tongues that wag. One of the best sequences in the film is just
after he is released, he comes across a merry-go-round. He sees a young girl standing next to the
ride. He touches her hair. Her older sister is on the merry-go-round and
looks on suspiciously. The camera is
attached to the merry-go-round so it takes us on a 360 degree pan of the area
and each time the camera approaches the man and child, we fear for the child’s
safety although there is nothing to fear except the anticipation of a rotating
camera. Another special sequence: A man rings a doorbell. There is no answer and he rings it again. A pet bird in a cage inside the house chirps
back in response. The man rings and the
bird sings and before you know it, a most unusual musical dialogue is derived
from this wordless scene. Life
Begins Tomorrow is a tour-de-force of rhythmic photoplay. With very few lines of dialogue, it sets the
heart soaring when one discovers a director of such talent who is practically
unknown.
IT HAPPENED
HERE
35mm | 1965 | Britain | 100 min | Kevin
Brownlow, Andrew Mollo | Programme:
Rediscovered & Restored
Reviled by most
and sundry upon its release, this film poses the question, what would have
happened had the Nazis invaded England during the war and took control of every
establishment? How this film was made in
England just 20 years after the end of WWII, shot in the streets without
significant funding is a feat in itself.
Made for just a few thousand pounds with countless volunteers over a
period of seven years, It Happened Here is a chilling and
frightening account of the what-if scenario.
Accused of both fascism and pacifism, the film is a curious blend of
fiction and cinema verité. A nurse finds
herself seeking employment with the Nazis.
She is seen as a traitor to the British, but her intention is to make
Britain new and improved. A
non-political person, she focuses only on her work which compels her to nurse
the sick, regardless of who is in charge.
She is not ashamed of working alongside the Nazis. However, when her loyalty to the Nazis is
questioned, she is demoted and sent to a hospice for the sick deep in the English
countryside. Her first task is to tend
to newly-arrived tubercular Polish migrant workers, all dressed in striped
pyjamas, which happens to be what patients wear at this “hospice” run by
British doctors and nurses. After giving
them injections the first night of their arrival, she is surprised to find
their beds all empty the next morning.
When she questions this further, things get worse. The juxtaposition of these images to actual
events in concentration camps just 20 years earlier is inescapable. Commanding the screen is Pauline Murray, in
one of her two roles ever. She never
acted again after this film. The
directors employed real neo-Nazis to play themselves in key roles as leaders of
the invading German army. Their
anti-Semitic diatribe was all theirs and not scripted. The film was only able to be completed, thanks
to the generosity of Stanley Kubrick, who heard of this independent project and
wanting to help, offered the filmmakers film stock that was left over from Dr.
Strangelove. Thank you, Mr.
Kubrick.
WOODEN CROSSES
(LES CROIX DE BOIS)
DCP | 1932 | France | 115 min
| Raymond Bernard | Programme: Rediscovered & Restored
One of the most underrated French films ever, Wooden
Crosses chronicles war as the most desolate and terrifying event man has ever encountered.
With rigorous direction and authentic to a fault, Raymond Bernard
captures the disintegration and annihilation of a squadron of French soldiers
in WWI with the precision of a surgeon and the soul of a humanist. Simple
in structure, it avoids melodrama and story development to make us sympathize
with the soldiers. In fact, it makes us feel for them just as they are -
men going to their doom. From the opening shot of rows and rows of
soldiers that dissolve and morph into rows and rows of white wooden crosses in
a cemetery, I felt a tingle up my spine. One of the most famous endings of war
films is the butterfly scene in All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)
which is also about WWI. But I argue
that the final agonizing moments of Wooden Crosses are the most powerful final
scenes of any war film. Never has death
been more terrifying in the eyes of a soldier left alone to die. The
utter feeling of abandonment. The
inevitability of death. The mouth agape. The eyes bulging. The cries weakening. And then, all is silent and a wooden cross stands
where you once stood. I felt I was
there, on that field, watching someone dying in real time. A poetic gem of a film, urgently in need of
being rediscovered.
TWO ACRES OF
LAND (DO BIGHA ZAMEEN)
DCP | 1953 | India | 132 min | Bimal Roy | Programme: 1950s Indian Cinema
For a long time,
I have been waiting patiently for an opportunity to see Bimal Roy’s acclaimed
film on the big screen. After years of
anticipation, Bologna has made that wish come true. Needless to say, my expectations were high,
but I had no need to be anxious because from the very first few minutes, I knew
I was watching something special. A
destitute farmer stands to forfeit the only thing he possesses – the two acres
of land upon which stands his small house and farm land. If he does not gather 235 rupees within three
months, the landlord will auction the land, upon which he plans to build a
mill. Leaving his pregnant wife and
elderly father, the farmer sets out to the city to earn some money only to find
the harsh realities of trying to find work and earn money in the big city. He is willing to do anything to make money so
that he can ease his burden. But he ends
up physically carrying human burden as he is transformed into a human carriage,
a rickshaw puller. The irony is obvious. Bimal Roy does not milk the unhappy turn of
events for sympathy. In fact, the script
does not allow for scenes of sentimentality.
There are moments of desperation that unfold melodramatically, but they
are directed with skill and acted with genuine emotion. Through a relentless performance by the great
character actor, Balraj Sahni, the farmer firmly keeps his mind focused on one
thing only – saving his two acres of land.
The songs are kept to a minimum and are featured as background
accompaniment to the plot. I am afraid
that the more cynical audiences of today may be tempted to call this film
‘miserable’. The sad reality is that
this 60-year old film is more relevant in India today than ever before. The en
masse suicide of rural farmers in the past few years as India continues its
modernization process makes this film more topical than ever. In Competition at Cannes 1954, where it won a
Special Prix International, Do Bigha Zameen is one of the most
moving films I have ever experienced.
SAMSON
35mm | 1961 | Poland | 118 min | Andrzej
Wajda | Programme: Polish New Wave
A
terse and sobering experience of WWII through the eyes of a Polish Jew. Before you can say, I have seen this many
times already and although this is a subject oft-revisited in Polish cinema,
Wajda has a different angle - he focuses completely on Polish behaviour and
actions. The Germans are almost never seen. There are no German
characters, except a few soldiers in the streets. Wajda explores the
ugliness, hypocrisy and prejudice that war brings out in people. Anti-Semitism and its alleged moral
justification are at the heart of this complex and intelligent film. A
young Jewish man is set free from prison during riots and chaos when Germany
invades Poland. Later, as all the Jews are put in the ghetto, he becomes
a corpse-collector of the ghetto streets.
His escape from the ghetto and attempts at survival among Poles is
chronicled and the experience is harrowing. There are no villains or
clichéd characterizations. These are just people and can only be judged
by themselves. The hate he experiences among the Poles produces a unique
twist, for his life outside the ghetto becomes so unbearable that for the rest
of the film, all his efforts are not to escape the war or the country, but
simply to return to the ghetto, to die with his own people. One of the
key points Wajda makes in the film is that anti-Semitism was not exported to
Poland by the Germans. It was already there, thriving as part of Polish
pre-war society. Hence, the film, dismissed upon release, is Wajda's
unknown great film. Along with The
Ashes (1965),
Landscape After Battle (1970), Innocent Sorcerers (1960)
and Sweet Rush (2009), Samson (1961) is
one of Wajda's best films.
A GIRL GOES
ASHORE
35mm | 1938 | Germany | 91 min
| Werner Hochbaum | Programme: The Films of Werner Hochbaum
A tough,
realistic, no-nonsense woman, Erna Quandt loses her man at sea, where she spent
most of her time accompanying him for his work.
After his demise, she goes ashore.
She has learnt one thing being on the seas: the team must band together for the captain
to ensure the voyage is successful. She
soon finds employment as a housekeeper to a wealthy couple under marital
strain. What an absolutely original and
memorable character is Miss Quandt! She
takes her courteous but firm attitude to her new job and tells her mistress that
it is not proper to entertain other men when her husband is not at home. She also refuses to lie to callers saying
that the mistress is not at home, when she is.
She declares to her mistress, “A
lie is a lie! You are at home!” But it is her
efficiency and hard work that keep her in their employ. A strange occurrence makes her question her
steadfastness and naturally it concerns the affairs of the heart. Miss Quandt meets a man of shady
character. We (and she) know that he
uses women for money. She is aware that
she will eventually be asked to give him money but she does not repel his
sweet-talk. Her willingness to tolerate
him makes him question his actions in the most unexpected of ways. Once again, as in his earlier films, Werner
Hochbaum uses his unique style of continuous flow of scene to great effect. Beautifully shot and heart-rending, A
Girl Goes Ashore is one of Hochbaum’s best from his small but unique filmography.
KAAGAZ KE PHOOL (PAPER FLOWERS)
35mm | 1959 | India | 146 min | Guru Dutt |
Programme: 1950s Indian Cinema
A
film deemed as an essential in the canon of Indian classics. I waited
patiently for many years to see this film on the big screen and thanks to
Bologna, this has come to pass, and in 35mm and all! A successful film director finds a young
woman to play the lead in his next film. He takes a chance against
protests from the studio and the woman herself who has no interest in
acting. It pays off as not only is she a
natural, but audiences identify with her simplicity. As their
relationship develops, even though he is married with child, the unspoken love
between the two is observed and by all especially the director's pre-teen
daughter. His marriage is already under considerable strain as his
in-laws and wife are strongly against the vulgarity of the cinema and its
people. His wife abandons him and takes custody of his daughter and he
abandons himself in his work. His work suffers and his latest film fails
and loses millions. Finished, he falls into despair, depression and
alcoholism. Years later, he revisits the studio as an old man and is mistaken
for an extra and cast as a beggar. Guru Dutt made only a handful of films
but they were unlike anything the Indian film industry had ever seen. His early
Bollywood commercial films Baazi (1951), Jaal (1952), Baaz (1953)
and Aar-Paar
(1954) are some of the most memorable and exciting films of that era.
With Pyaasa (1957) he carved a new name and niche for himself and
what a legacy he has left! Kaagaz
Ke Phool foretold his downfall as the film was extremely expensive and
was a massive failure. The studio and Dutt were in financial ruin. Disgraced,
he never directed another film. His marriage fell apart. He was having an affair with Waheeda Rehman, the
star of his films Pyaasa and Kaagaz Ke Phool. He started drinking heavily and very soon the
affair ended. In 1964, just 5 years after Kaagaz Ke Phool, he took an
overdose of sleeping pills and died at the young age of 39. It's as if he
made a film about his life and how it would end, and then he proceeded to do
exactly that. What other gems may have
been in store for us if only this, his most ambitious film, was successful?
Guru Dutt has left us with a brooding gem of loneliness and the fear of
being forgotten. Precisely 50 years
after his death, he is acclaimed and remembered more than he or his
contemporaries could ever imagine.
PATHETIC
FALLACY (AJANTRIK)
DCP | 1958 | India | 102 min | Ritwik Ghatak | Programme: 1950s Indian Cinema
A
surreptitiously sly tale that begins as an apparent comedy, ends up being one
of the smartest films of the festival. We
follow two silly characters, an uncle and nephew, as the latter is on his way
to his own wedding. They contort their
faces, giggle, and repeat idiotic observations.
They take a dilapidated taxi that looks like it’s about 30 years
old. Once they arrive at their
destination, suddenly we continue on in the taxi and the story follows the
driver. We find out that the only
important thing in the taxi driver’s life is his broken, asthmatically wheezing,
rattling contraption of a car. Ridiculed
and laughed at by all in his village, not to mention the local garage, the man
is actually in love with his car, his only means of sustenance. Deeply humanist, Pathetic Fallacy is
reminiscent of Dariush Mehrjui’s classic Iranian masterpiece, The
Cow (1969). This film surprises
on every level as it explores the strange bond between man and machine. The original title means a mechanical man,
but the English title works just as well.
It would be remiss of me to credit the greatness of this film only to Ritwik
Ghatak and not mention the brilliant lead performance by Kali Bannerjee. It is through him we relate to his strange
kinship with the machine. It is a
staggering performance of pathos and determination. If we do not believe him, there is no film. It builds to an unforgettable moment that
includes a look of angst, a crying sound, dust in the wind, a little boy
playing with a particular object, and then a smile and a teardrop.
THE FIELD
POPPY
35mm | 1935 | Japan | 73 min | Kenji
Mizoguchi | Programme: 1930s
Japanese Cinema
This
35mm restoration of one of the great Mizoguchi’s rare films will remain with me
for a long time. An understated drama, it
is heartbreaking and stifling but always subtle, elegant and sophisticated. A boy is raised by a kind stranger and
develops a bond between the man and his daughter. Now a young man, he leaves the countryside
for Tokyo to study and have a career. He
promises to return to marry the man’s daughter.
Caught up in the new and fast world, he does not return. The old man and daughter travel to Tokyo to
find out about his intentions. It is in
the city the drama unfolds ever so quietly without even a harsh word
spoken. There is no confrontation, only painful
realizations and the agony of waiting and waiting and waiting. The old man and daughter are given hints of
the young man’s drastic change of heart via a messenger, but never from his own
mouth. Shame, ingratitude, pride and
defeat play out in the confines of their rented room. This is an elegant and underappreciated film
from one of the world’s most gifted filmmakers.
THE GROOM
TALKS IN HIS SLEEP
35mm | 1935 | Japan | 74 min |
Heinosuke Gosho | Programme:
1930s Japanese Cinema
What
a wonderful surprise this film is! It is
of sorts, a sister film to The Bride Talks in Her Sleep (1933),
both directed by the under-appreciated Japanese master, Heinosuke Gosho. Very well-written with sharp
characterizations, the film opens with a newly-married couple preparing for the
day. I don’t believe I have ever seen
such physical display of affection ever in any Japanese film. Both kiss and cling to each other as if their
lives depended on it, but their sincerity cannot be questioned. As soon as he is off to work, she goes to
sleep. Rumours are started by prying
neighbours and the young husband finds out and is outraged. Sleeping this early in the day signifies a
wanton lifestyle and laziness that bring
dishonour to
him and his family. He comes home
stealthily one day and confronts her.
When she refuses to give him the reason she sleeps, he threatens
divorce. She then confesses that she
cannot sleep at night as he talks non-stop in his sleep. On top of that, seeing that he is so
good-looking, she is worried that one day he will mention other women’s names
in his sleep, so she stays up all night to make sure that he doesn’t say another
woman’s name. The in-laws arrive as the
news of the sleeping bride reached them and they demand the divorce be carried
out. It is now up to the young couple to
save their marriage. Then the doctor of
mesmerism arrives on the scene. Hilarity
ensues.
THE BRIDE
TALKS IN HER SLEEP
35mm | 1933 | Japan | 57 min |
Heinosuke Gosho | Programme:
1930s Japanese Cinema
A group of
friends show up at their newly-married friend's home one night under the
pretence of a cordial visit. However, they have heard rumours that the
new bride talks in her sleep. They are
adamant to stay (even if they are not welcome) until she falls asleep so they
can eavesdrop on the contents of her nocturnal monologue. How times have
changed! Back then, and I am sure not just in Japanese culture, a woman
talking in her sleep was considered something sexually scandalous. What
would she say? Would she reveal anything titillating? Would she disclose any intimate secrets in
her sleep? The men are so intrigued by
the fact that a passive woman mumbling fragmented sentences in her sleep could
possibly be an exciting event for them.
Their reasons for the stay-over are not apparent, nor are they mentioned
by any of the men. It is with excellent
acting and witty writing we get the gist of their minds. It is a fascinating comedy of manners and
gender politics. Gosho's deft touch and skilful direction make this film an
undisputed pleasure of the festival.
THE MAN I
KILLED
35mm | 1932 | USA | 75 min | Ernst
Lubitsch | Programme: World
War I
It is not the
usual case to discover a film by a famous director that no one seems to
talk about, but this is precisely what happened during the screening of
Lubitsch's remarkable film. Alone in the trenches during WWI, a young
French soldier bayonets an equally young German soldier. He looks at the
dying boy's perplexed face that has a mixture of sadness, surprise, fear and
expectancy. He dies with his hands still on the letter he was writing.
The French soldier finds out from the letter and other letters in his
coat that the young German hated war. He
had no quarrel with the French as he lived in Paris for 2 years prior to the
war. Stricken with guilt and grief, the French soldier falls into
depression and turns to the church for answers and guidance. He is told
by the priest: "Forget it, you were only doing your duty."
Disillusioned, he goes to Germany to meet the parents of the man he
killed. A technically astute and remarkably authentic film, I could have
sworn it was made in Germany with German extras if I didn't know better.
Tender, political, poignant, it is one of the most precious finds of the
festival. One of the most moving scenes features two German mothers at the
graves of their sons. This is their exchange:
"Your boy loved
my cinnamon cakes."
"Did he?
How do you know this?"
"He used to
visit me on Saturdays when I did my baking."
"Oh, I see.
How do you make your cinnamon cakes?"
"Well, I use
flour, eggs, shortening, two cups of sugar..."
"Two cups of
sugar!?! Oh, I would only use one cup.
Now I know for next time..."
And her voice
trails off as they both realise there will never ever be a next time for either
of their sons.
LA CHIENNE
DCP | 1931 | France | 96 min | Jean Renoir
| Programme: Rediscovered & Restored
Renoir’s
unsentimental, harsh yet sensitive examination of human behaviour and class
structure is about the downfall of a quiet, soft-spoken middle-aged man and his
relationship with his wife and mistress.
It is a relatively unknown film compared to Renoir’s more popular
works. This may be his most brutal film
and it passes no judgment in its moralistic ambiguity. The man has a chance encounter with a younger
woman who is under the influence of her pimp.
The girl believes in her heart that the pimp is the love of her
life. Upon the knowledge that the older
man has money and is also a part-time painter, her pimp thrusts her into his
arms. Not before long, deceit, abuse and
murder ensue and this culminates in the most unpredictable chain of events. Michel Simon soars as Legrand in perhaps his
most complex role. The use of fade to
black is especially effective in the last 20 minutes of the film. This is a toxic concoction of a film. An unforgettable scene focuses on a fleeting
painting, two pan-handlers and the name Clara Wood. But my favourite sequence involves a group of
musicians, a busy street, a gathered crowd, a room, a woman on a bed, a man in
the room and the camera that travels up from the street to the room, then down
from the room to the street.
RAID IN ST. PAULI
35mm | 1932 | Germany | 63 min | Werner
Hochbaum | Programme: The Films of Werner Hochbaum
Hochbaum's
camera slips through the narrow streets of Hamburg to explore its slinky and
surreptitious Red Light district. Once
again, the story he weaves is simple but the poetry of his images is inspiring.
A criminal is on the run. He breaks into a young woman's room.
They look at each other and without uttering a word, much is said. There is an instant connection. She
hides him. Thus
begins their 24-hour tryst while the police are still on the hunt for him.
From
the opening moments, a plethora of activity is captured via stylistic touches:
legs walking, dancing, climbing, fingers at work, waves at the Hamburg
port crashing, tired faces, weary eyes, nightlife and frivolity. A panning shot of flagstones morph into piano
keys. To depict the criminal and woman have had intimate relations, there
is a peculiar and rather naughty shot of a teddy bear lying atop a doll.
Hochbaum holds that shot for a good 5 seconds or so and its meaning is
conveyed in more ways than one. In one
amazing sequence, women are in a bar, they are talking, smiling and the piano
is being played. Then all of a sudden, the women stop talking, there is
absolutely no sound, the music has stopped, everyone is immobile. The
eyes have stopped blinking. The life has
been drained from the party. Perhaps it
is a statement being made by Hochbaum about the monotony of their lives. But, after a minute or so, a customer enters
the bar and then everything bursts into life again. The inhabitants of
the bar resume talking, laughing, dancing.
And the music plays on in this stunning sequence of movement, vitality
and life.
THE CABINET OF
DR. CALIGARI
DCP
| 1920 | Germany | 75 min | Robert Wiene | Programme: Rediscovered & Restored
It is inexplicable how this very famous film eluded me for so many
years. Featuring a pristine restoration,
this unforgettably haunting film is the epitome of Expressionism. A kaleidoscope of contorted streets,
crumbling houses, triangular doors, shadows on the walls, fill the screen to
the brim and then some. These eccentric
images seem to want to spill over the sides of the frame. All of this is perfectly designed in the
setting of a fair of oddities and sensational exhibitionism. It is not wonder the zigzag roads eventually
lead to an insane asylum. A strange creature
in the form of Dr. Caligari comes to town bringing with him a somnambulist as a
sideshow. Who better than Conrad Veidt
to play the weird somnambulist? Not
before long, both Dr. Caligari and his somnambulist are under suspicion of
malfeasance. This film is so brilliantly
constructed and directed that I felt hypnotized throughout. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari may be the
most exemplary of the films of German Expressionism.
WANDA’s
TRICK
35mm | 1918 | Germany | 45 min | Rosa
Porten, Franz Eckstein | Programme: The
Films of Dr. R. Portegg
A
delightful comedy that highlights the talents of Wanda Treumann and the
co-directors, Rosa Porten and Franz Eckstein. Love and money intertwined in a
maze of marketing, business, trickery and eventually marriage. A worker
in a cigarette factory falls for the president of the company but he wants to
be amused only and has no care for a commitment. She then wins the grand
lottery. The factory is in financial difficulties and the president
rethinks his refusal and asks her to marry him. She wastes no time is showing
him the door! But wanting to prove herself as his equal in business, she
comes up with a brilliant marketing strategy to boost cigarette sales.
Since she is now in demand after winning the lottery, they will do a
campaign where her photo will be inserted in one packet of cigarette.
Whosoever buys that packet, will be the lucky man. In exchange for
her golden advertising idea, she asks to become an associate. Of course,
nothing turns out as planned. How fun are
these two directors - they used the first syllable of both their last names to
come up with their pseudonym, Portegg.
FANTOMAS
DCP | 1913-1914 | France | 352 min | Louis
Feuillade | Programme: Rediscovered
& Restored
This
100-year old, 6-hour film is quite excellent in how it entertains, intrigues
and excites. Feuillade is a master
controller of the camera and the action that resides within. A beautiful and extremely clean restoration,
with the right amount of grain, this massive episodic film contains many
labyrnthian plots of twists and turns at ever corner. A diabolical, murderous and sociopathic
villain, a determined police inspector, his eager assistant, zealous villains disguised
as bankers, businessmen, priests, judges and one of the funniest of all – an
American detective sent to help with the investigation, his name: Tom Bob.
Logic should not be applied to the various plots as one could easily
find many holes in them. But the
mise-en-scene, structure, flow and design of the film are splendid. The film bristles with energy and good performances
especially René Navarre
as the titular Fantômas, and Reneé Carl who plays his mistress.
LA CIGARETTE
35mm | 1919 | France | 51 min | Germaine
Dulac | Programme: The Films of
Germaine Dulac
A young,
bored wife to an archaeologist/museum curator takes to entertaining a younger
man, much to her older husband's chagrin. He tries to be understanding
and fights his jealousy, but alas, the monster overpowers him. What is
unusual is that he doesn't vent his anger on his young wife, but decides to
play a game of chance on himself. He poisons one cigarette and places it
among many others in his cigarette box. Eventually, he will smoke that
cigarette, but when that will be, he doesn't know. When it happens, it
happens. His wife is completely oblivious of her husband's emotional
distress but senses all may not be well. This 95-year old film is the
earliest surviving film of Germaine Dulac. It features a young liberated
woman, location shooting, realistic performances and an advanced montage style.
Farewell and see to your
journey, but return soon…
To bid me arrivederci from this wonderful
festival, I couldn’t ask for a more poignant farewell. As I was waiting for my train to Roma Termini
station, the previous train was departing Bologna for Naples on the same
platform. A few feet from me, a father
was saying goodbye to his wife and young children through the soundproof glass
window. As the train started to move, he
began to walk alongside the train, waving and blowing kisses to his
family. His wife appeared to be tearful
and so were the children. He then
stopped and mouthed the words repeatedly, “Ti
amo, ti amo”. The train disappeared and
he stood there for a moment with a sad look on his face. Then he looked at me, smiled, shrugged in the
most recognizable Italian manner and walked away. And like that, until we meet again, la vita continua…