Day for Night (1973)

I don't know why, but Truffaut almost always lets me down. Maybe it's because he's got such a great reputation, but his films never seem to measure up to what I expect of them. Most notably Jules at Jim, which wasn't a bad film by any stretch of the imagination, but rang sort of hollow for me, mostly because I couldn't relate to any of the characters. Day for Night, I liked a whole lot more, and I have a feeling will probably grow on me more the more I see it.

What really impressed me the most, surprisingly, were the characters. They all seemed so well-developed to me, and I actually identified with most of them. I think what helps the film most is the way that you feel like a member of the crew, watching the film yourself. Kind of a fly-on-the-wall point of view. But it really helps to draw the viewer into the picture and identify with the characters and take an interest in what's happening to them.

Day for Night has got some really good dialogue, and some great quotable lines. Especially when Alphonse begins asking everybody "Are women magic?" Plenty of other great moments in the film. And hey, now I know what "les salades de l'amour" means. Pickles of love, eh Francois?

Battleship Potemkin (1925)

I've only seen a handful of silent films. Off the top of my head, Nosferatu, The Lodger, Metropolis, one or two Garbos maybe...So I'm not exactly a connaisseur when it comes to silent film. But, I can say, without a doubt, that Potemkin is my favorite thus far.

It's hard to describe, in some ways. But if you've seen it, you know its greatness. The plot is so well-done, especially for the time in which it was made. It's actually riveting, it really hooked me from the get-go. You really feel the sailors' plight, and get upset that they have to eat rancid meat and endure punishment. This is due in no small part to the excellent photography, shooting the men through gratings, letting the shadows of ropes fall over their bodies, exemplifying the tension and unrest they feel.

Then, when the Cossacks come and slaughter all the innocent civilians..man oh man, such great filmmaking. It's just incredible to watch. Obviously, the oft-parodied and lifted shots involving the baby carriage are just great, but the part right before it, where the Mother gets gunned down at the top of the steps is just as good. It's really suspenseful to see her fall and struggle to stay alive for her child. Then, the carriage goes down the steps, flying over corpses, their hands outstretched on the steps. The baby itself probably represents a kind of natural innocence, transending over the evil and slaughter.

The score, probably not the original, was great as well. It added much to the film, and complimented it well all along. Just a great, great film. I can't wait for Criterion to get their mitts on it.

Umberto D. (1952)

I loved the Bicycle Thief and I've been on a neorealist kick, so it's natural I check out De Sica's Umberto D. I really loved it. I found myself really relating to the old fella. In fact, it's strange, but I find myself usually attracted towards films with an elderly main character. Out of every other Kurosawa flick, with their kick-ass samurai action, my personal favorite is Ikiru. Same goes for Bergman and Wild Strawberries, minus the samurai bit. I couldn't tell you why, maybe it's because I had a very close relationship with my late Grandmother, maybe I just have a natural respect or affinity for the elderly. Maybe I fancy myself an 'old soul' at heart. Who knows? So, not surprisingly, I loved Umberto D.

In fact, I think De Sica presents Umberto in a way that all viewers identify with him. We all see our own Grandfather in him, or maybe just elderly people we know firsthand. This really makes the viewer care deeply for Umberto and wish things go well for him.

On the same hand, I have to wonder if Umberto's landlady's characterization is a little bit too heavy-handed. She just seems a little too evil and selfish to be real. But maybe that's just me. Maybe she just happens to be one of those greedy, selfish people who wouldn't think twice about putting themselves before an elderly pensioner.

I think, in many ways, the film is a struggle between dignity and survival, trying to find a middle ground between the two. The longer Umberto lives and tries to survive in the world, the more of his own dignity he sacrifices. It would be easier if he were to just die, but it's ultimately Flike who persuades him not to, without any words. Speaking of which, I really loved their relationship. Flike is Umberto's only friend in the world, and he cares so deeply for him, he treats him so well, that it really makes him endearing to the audience. And in Umberto's frantic search for him at the pound, you feel the same way as he does, desperately hoping he finds Flike. And when he does, he holds him so tightly that the tears welled up in my eyes, because it was such a beautiful moment.