Published Monday, October 17, 2005 by modium.
Ben-Hur (1959)
I don't usually go for the big, epic films. I mean, they're decent, but they're far too overblown and corny for my tastes. But, surprisingly, I really liked Ben-Hur. Despite its production values and scale, it tells a very small, very personal tale that's easy to become absorbed in.
There's a moment early on, kind of a catalyst, where his sister accidentally knocks a clay tile off of a roof. This is naturally perceived as an attempted attack on the governor and him, his mother and his sister are all taken into custody, with Ben-Hur himself being sold into slavery. Usually, epic films like this don't draw you in, but starting with the tile incident, I was really absorbed in the story. I loved following his journey as a slave on a big ol' ship, then afterwards, as he did everything in his power to seek out his mother and sister. His character is believable, and most of all, admirable. Heston's performance is, once again, surprisingly good. He brings a great feeling of determination to the character that makes you believe that he'd be willing to go to the ends of the Earth for his family.
Not only that, the film has a great resonance. I remember, when Ben-Hur was in the boat, and all the slaves were rowing, being commanded and whipped. The feeling in that scene, that whole stretch of the film was great, really giving me a sense of what it must have been like to do something so strenuous for so long. In fact, it even got me pondering their lives fairly deeply for a while, until the plot managed to draw my attention away again.
Hey, I liked it. Wow!
Ugetsu (1953)
I saw Ugetsu a while back, when IFC ran it as part of their Samurai Saturday lineup. It was rumored to be a future Criterion release, so I figured I'd give it a shot. Then, months later, I realized I remembered nothing about it. I remembered some of the plot, but nothing else at all about the film. Then, I learned about Mizoguchi's stature in the film world, so I figured a re-watching was in order, and this time, I think I'll be remembering it.
It's really kind of a simple story. Two men from a small village decide to pursue their dreams in the big city. One man wishes to become a samurai, much to everyone's chagrin. The other wishes to become prosperous, working hard to make clay bowls and selling them in the town. He's pretty successful, making enough money to buy his living wife nice things. But, before long, his ambition takes over as well, as he worries more about his pottery than his own life when bandits begin to raid. Then, of course, he falls in love with a mysterious woman who lives in a nearby castle. Yeah, pretty sure where this one is going.
The imagery of the film is beautiful though, as are the atosphere and feel. In fact, even the plot is well done, I thought. Mizogushi does a fantastic job of not only filling the film with beauty and emotion, but actually making you care about the plot. I can't wait to track down more of his films to see if they're a good as Ugetsu.
Testament of Orpheus (1959)
Jean Cocteau's Testament of Orpheus is a pretty difficult film to write about. It's not traditional in the way that Orpheus was. It more closely resembles Blood of a Poet, but where the first film was mostly experiemental, Testament has a confidence about it. Cocteau knew exactly what he was doing, making a cinematic poem, exploring the depths of the media itself, and basically, having fun. He seems to be having a blast here, the film's very playful and self-referential, and Cocteau is not above poking fun at himself and his earlier works. It's not as good as the first two films in the Orphic trilogy, but it's still a great piece of work, and an proper sendoff of Cocteau's brief film career.
Naked (1993)
I really wasn't sure what to expect from Naked. Here it is, over a week later (due to my procrastination) and it's still sitting inside of my brain. I didn't take any notes on it, for whatever reason, but it really is a fantastic film, that seems to get better the more I think about it. At this rate, the DVD will be at the top of my must-have list by the end of the year.
I think the main character, Johnny, played brilliantly by David Thewlis is what sticks with me the most. He's got such depth to him, and he's so charismatic, but at the same time, completely repulsive. He's very smart, can express himself well, but he never does anything with these abilities, instead choosing to float along in life. He's one of the great, complex, conflicted characters in cinema. Thewlis' delivery is wonderfully unique, and I can still hear snatches of his many speeches rattling around in my head.
Leigh's film paints a brilliant portrait of this man, with expert strokes throughout. I really don't know what else to say about it. For the most part, I'm left speechless.
The Double Life of Veronique (1991)
So, I didn't like Camera Buff much, but I thought Veronique was great. Really, on par with Kieslowski's Three Colors trilogy. I've still got the rest of his work to check out, but maybe I just prefer his later, more mature works like this, Three Colors and The Decalogue.
It's hard to describe what makes Veronique such a beautiful film. Visually, it's very arresting. Kieslowski uses some gorgeous filters and colors to give the film a look that's real and surreal at the same time. I really don't know, it's just a beautiful, atmospheric film. And it doesn't hurt that Irene Jacob is pretty much perfection embodied in a woman.
Kieslowski seems to love finding the quirky, normal events in ordinary life, and showing their beauty. Much like Jeunet's characters are delighted by the small things in life, so is Veronique, although it's nowhere near as obvious. Kieslowski simply has a great ability for finding the beauty in the banal.