Showing posts with label Bernardo Bertolucci. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bernardo Bertolucci. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

AMORE E RABBIA aka LOVE AND ANGER

Carlo Lizzani, Bernardo Bertolucci, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Jean-Luc Godard, Elda Tattoli, Marco Bellocchio, 1969
Starring: Ninetto Davoli, Julian Beck, Nino Castelnuovo, Tom Baker

I just wrote in my review of Capriccio all’italiana, an anthology film from the previous year that Pasolini also contributed to, how sick I am of European art house anthologies, but Amore e rabbia was blissfully the last of these. When these anthology films weren’t completely self-indulgent, like The Witches, they tended to focus on the fraught political situation of the late ‘60s. Marked by protests, strikes, and government-wide shut downs, this period was the closest Europe has come since 18th century France to attaining revolution. 

While the US was home to the Civil Rights Movement and anti-Vietnam demonstrations, French students nearly overthrew their own government, Italy had a major anarchist conference, and Czechoslovakia underwent the Prague Spring, etc. Without understanding the political climate of the period, it’s almost impossible to absorb everything going on in Amore e rabbia, which is made up of five clips from six directors. 

Carlo Lizzani, one of neorealism’s foremost screenwriters and a prolific director in his own right, kicked off the anthology with “L’indifferenza" aka “Indifference,” the most effective segment of the film. In the courtyard of an apartment, a woman is attacked while onlookers ignore the crime to listen to a sporting event (based on the true story of Kitty Genovese, who was raped and stabbed to death just outside her apartment complex), and elsewhere people refuse to help an injured man and woman trying to get from a car accident to the hospital. This latter tale would be more effective if I hadn’t already watched a more comical version in The Witches, which this much more somber retelling closely mirrors. Still, its implications are chilling and there is an almost Cronenbergian feel to the hostility and violence of the city.

Bernardo Bertolucci’s “Agonia” aka “Agony,” on the other hand, is really an acquired taste. A man is passing away and his death is accompanied by a troupe of dancers who form body sculptures (like something you might see at Cirque du Soleil), spout pseudo philosophical nonsense, and otherwise guide the man to his death in the most ‘60s European counterculture way possible. Put together by The Living Theatre and with a performance from the company’s founders Julian Beck and Judith Malina, you really have to know the background to get this one. It might be nice to watch after checking out Fassbinder’s documentary on experimental theater, Theatre in Trance (1981).

Next up is Pasolini’s segment, "La sequenza del fiore di carta” aka “The Sequence of Paper Flowers,” which is surprisingly short and simple. His regularly star from this period, the irresistibly likable Ninetto Davoli plays an innocent young man who wanders the streets in utter harmony with the world, sometimes carrying a large paper flower. These images are contrasted with clips of atrocities and historically important moments and the youth is eventually struck dead, as if the heavens are outraged by his innocence and gaiety. This one would be unlikable if it weren’t for an infectious performance from Davoli, whose sunny personality shines through. It’s easy to see why he become one of Pasolini’s most used comic actors.

The little dialogue in “La sequenza del fiore di carta” is more than made up for with the dialogue-heavy story from the film’s only non-Italian director, Jean-Luc Godard. His “L’Amore” aka “Love” is a fascinating companion piece to some of his films that revolve around relationships — such as Contempt and A Woman in a Woman — as it follows a couple who sit around and argue. Their discussions of love and politics are underlined by the fact that she is Jewish and he is Arabic and they are contrasted with another couple who discuss the actions of the central couple.

Marco Bellocchio and Elda Tattoli segment, "Discutiamo, discutiamo” aka “We Tell, You Tell,” is the last and will probably feel as relevant as the first segment to contemporary viewers. It follows a group of politically-minded students who don’t take any action, but sit around preaching ideas of Marxism and anarchism that they all already agree on. Essentially their discussion is about whether it’s possible to change things from within the system or whether the system should be destroyed and rebuilt. It’s not the best of the short films, but the discussion feels fresh and some of the themes haven’t changed at all.

Overall I can only recommend Amore e rabbia to Pasolini and Godard completists, or to anyone with an interest in or knowledge of ‘60s history. You can surprisingly find the film on DVD, in a nice-looking edition from NoShame. It’s definitely worth watching at least once and I would be fascinated to hear some feedback from viewers totally ignorant to the events of the late ‘60s.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

THE DREAMERS

Bernardo Bertolucci, 2004
Starring: Michael Pitt, Eva Green, Louis Garrel

Bernardo Bertolucci’s sexually explicit romantic drama set in Paris, 1968, concerns three young cinephiles: Matthew, an American studying French, and the twins Théo and Isabelle. They meet at the Cinémathèque Française, which all three attend religiously until it is shut down for political reasons. Matthew has no friends until Théo and Isabelle seek him out and soon bring him home for dinner. When their parents go out of town, Matthew essentially moves in and the three ignore the outside world with an intense exploration of cinema, sex and identity until their idyll is shattered by the events of the outside world. 

Known for his beautiful, sometimes controversial films, The Dreamers is no exception. Due to its sexual content, the film was released in two versions, an uncut NC-17 limited release and a shorter R-rated version. The sex is certainly more explicit that most historical dramas with tons of male and female nudity, shots of genitalia, etc. I don’t think anyone reading a cult movie blog should feel uncomfortable about the kind of sex and nudity portrayed here, but then I’ve never understood why violence is more acceptable than sex in the visual arts (at least in the U.S.). The sex is obviously simulated and is not going to blow any pornography enthusiasts out of the water, but it might be too intense to watch with, say, a family member or a coworker. There is the implication of incest between Théo and Isabelle, particularly in the scenes where they sleep naked in the same bed, but this is never fully realized. 

All three of the actors seem perfectly comfortable with the nudity and sex scenes. It is difficult to say that one of the three shines more than the others, but Eva Green sets herself apart simply because she is the only primary female character and because she is so lovely. Incredibly, this was her film debut despite strong encouragement from her family and agent not to take the role. Michael Pitt (Hedwig and the Angry Inch, The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things, HBO’s Boardwalk Empire) is known for choosing daring roles. He gives a great early performance here as Matthew and perfectly expresses the character’s vulnerability, insecurity, and anxiety. Though none of the characters are very developed, Pitt’s Matthew is responsible for the arc of the story. French actor Louis Garrel (Ma Mere, Les chansons d’amour) may have less material to work with than the other two actors, but he brings intelligence, charm and mystery to Théo’s character. 

The flawless cinematography from Fabio Cianchetti is a strong reason to see this film. Both the Parisian exteriors and the interior of the apartment have a painterly influence and there are many visual references to other classic films. The script was written by British writer Gilbert Adair, based on his novel The Holy Innocents, which he later re-wrote as The Dreamers, allegedly feeling that the film improved on the original novel. The only major difference between the film and the novel is that Matthew explores a sexual relationship with Théo as well as Isabelle. I’m not really sure why this was left out of the film. 

The politics — Matthew as a pacifist and Théo as a violent revolutionary (though only in talk, not action) —  weave in an out of the film and don’t form a cohesive argument. In case you are unaware of the history, Paris in 1968 was the setting of the infamous May student riots, which could be a fascinating film in and of itself. A general strike of students successfully brought the French economy to a standstill, if however brief. The government nearly collapsed. Amidst this historical setting is a second backdrop: classic cinema and the French New Wave. There are clips of historical figures like François Truffaut and Henri Langlois inserted into the film. Scenes from various films are also inserted into The Dreamers or quoted or acted out by the three protagonists, such as a famous scene where the three recreate the race through the Louvre Museum from Godard's Bande à part

Cinephiles will absolutely love many moments of The Dreamers. Bertolucci manipulates the three characters' love of and reliance on cinema to create a dream world of emotionally stunted but smart and imaginative people who live their lives by watching films. Their exile in the apartment symbolizes their withdrawal from life, which Bertolucci refuses to romanticize. They live in absolute squalor, blow through the money their parents gave them, have no money for food, and play cruel emotional games with one another that are instigated by Isabelle. The characters, particularly the twins, represent the failures of insisting to exist in an imaginary world, frozen in time, while the real world is blaring outside their window. 

The Dreamers is a film about too many things - a specific period in French and cinematic history, a battle for personal identity, a debate about political effectiveness, and sexual exploration. The film’s love of cinema and related love of sexual exploration will delight many viewers, but there is just not enough development and cohesion to put this on the same level as some of Bertolucci’s great works, like Last Tango in Paris and The Last Emperor. It has tremendous potential and comes highly recommended, but unfortunately fizzles out into frustrating inactivity and a murky, anticlimactic ending. The film raises subjects and asks questions it is simply incapable of fully exploring or answering. 

This French-British-Italian co-production is available uncut on DVD from Fox. The disc includes two documentaries, Bertolucci Directs The Dreamers and Outside the Window: Events in France, May 1968. There is an audio commentary track (recorded separately) from Bertolucci, Adair and the producer, Jeremy Thomas, as well as a few more extras. A mediocre Bertolucci film is still worlds better and more interesting than the best work by your average filmmaker.