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Film: La veuve de Saint-Pierre
Year of production: 2000
UK Release date: 13th June 2011
Distributor: Park Circus
Certificate: 15
Running time: 112 mins
Director: Patrice Leconte
Starring: Juliette Binoche, Daniel Auteuil, Emir Kusturica, Michel Duchaussoy, Philippe Magnan
Genre: Drama/Romance
Format: DVD
Country of Production: France/Canada
Language: French
Review by: Gordon James Knox
La veuve de Saint-Pierre (The Widow Of Saint Pierre) is a period drama set on an isolated archipelago just off the Canadian cost in the days of the Second French Republic. Despite starring two of France’s most revered actors in Juliette Binoche and Daniel Auteuil, the film didn’t exactly set the world alight upon its original 2000 release. A stranger film than might be anticipated, La veuve… contains enough originality and moments of genuine inspiration to steer clear of Merchant Ivory territory and justify this re-release.
In 1849 on the island of Saint-Pierre, fisherman Ariel Neel Auguste is sentenced to death after being found guilty of the murder of the fishing boat Captain, Coupard. Since there is no guillotine on the island, arrangements have to be made to ship one in from the island of Martinique. In the meantime, Neel is placed under the custody of Captain Jean, Captain of the troops in Saint-Pierre.
While spending his days in the cell waiting for the guillotine and executioner, Neel is invited by the Captain’s kindly wife, Pauline, to assist her in her garden. Soon a growing bond develops between Neel and Pauline, watched over approvingly by her trusting husband, as she teaches him to read and allows him the freedom to perform odd jobs around the island.
Less pleased with Neel’s rehabilitation and integration into the community of Saint-Pierre is the island’s governing elite. Anxious to push ahead with the execution as a means of asserting their authority and maintain their privileged status, they are only too aware of the increasing popularity of the man they condemned to death. Their fears are soon realised as the islanders voice their opposition and make it clear they will in no way assist in Neel’s execution.
Finally, the guillotine arrives, shortly followed by a destitute immigrant who the authorities pressure into accepting the role of executioner. Tensions soon come to a head, and when the Captain makes it clear to the island governor that he will refuse orders to shoot on the crowds in the event of a riot over Neel’s execution, the governor writes to Paris accusing him of sedition. It is not long before Jean’s life also hangs in the balance…
The original French title of the film loses something in translation. ‘La veuve’ does indeed mean ‘widow’ in French, but it is also 19th century slang for the guillotine, similar to the American slang of ‘widowmaker’. Thus, the ‘veuve’ of the title refers both to the execution device which has to be shipped onto the island as well as to the eventual fate of Pauline. A certain element of miscommunication carries over into the film: a period piece which attempts to act simultaneously as an indictment of capital punishment, as well as a portrayal of the lengths people will go to for love and their ideals, it doesn’t always come together in a convincing manner. If it was not for the fact the film was based on actual events preserved in court records, the story itself would seem scarcely believable.
Some of the film’s shortcomings may be explained by Patrice Leconte only assuming the role of director at the 11th hour (the original director, Alain Corneau, dropped out of the project just four months before shooting was due to start). Leconte has been quite open in admitting his main motive in accepting the project was the opportunity to work with Juliette Binoche and Daniel Auteuil. Two of the brightest stars in French cinema, their performances are the main reasons to catch the film.
Only last year, Gerard Depardieu caused something of a stir in French film circles by launching a scathing attack on the acting abilities of Binoche, the darling of French cinema. Her performance here is unlikely to change the opinion of Depardieu, but it is another example of why many consider Binoche the finest actress of her generation. She gives yet another excellent, accomplished performance; everything below the surface, in stolen sideward glances, in slight but telling gestures. Resolutely unspectacular, so naturalistic and subtle that you don’t realise how much she is actually communicating until afterwards. It appears simple, only because Binoche’s talent makes it appear so effortless.
Autuiel’s performance is equally fine, and even more low-key, so carefully contained that, at times he appears almost unhinged. And perhaps there is something in this. The theme of sexual desire verging on obsession was explored by the director in his earlier Monsieur Hire, Le Mari de la coiffeuse and Le Parfum d'Yvonne, and it’s definitely at work here. One society lady, noting the way the Captain watches his wife, remarks to her companion, “He devours his lady with his eyes.” These society ladies often provide astute observations, a generally reliable chorus to the action of the story (an example of the film’s subtle unconventionality). The companion responds to that comment with the claim that their own husbands would be similarly attentive should their wives take up a handsome burly protégé for themselves. The juxtaposition of a scene where Pauline teaches Neel to read, their growing attraction to one another quite palpable, with a particularly impassioned love scene between the Captain and his wife seems to confirm this. Is the rehabilitation of Neel simply a form of foreplay, unconscious or not, for the couple; a testing of their love? Is this the significance of Pauline’s sensuous red dresses, the dark carmine so conspicuous among the washed out greys and subdue hues of the cinematography: a dangerous game both are playing that will eventually result in the shedding of blood?
This ambiguity makes for interesting viewing, but it does tend to clash with the fatalistic nature of the film and the way it plays out as pure tragedy in the classical tradition. While some may find the ambiguity and shades of grey enthralling, others may see confusion and a lack of focus in the presentation of the film’s main message and themes, compounded by the filmmaker’s predilection for offering up questions rather than answers. The relationship between the Captain and his wife is successful (mainly due to the nuanced performances of Autuiel and Binoche), but the character of Neel is less convincing. Since the director focuses mainly on his rehabilitation, there is little effort given to explain the inexplicable murder at the beginning of the film. “They aren’t punishing the man they sentenced,” Pauline proclaims. The only problem is what we see on screen doesn’t quite back this up. Neel does not really change, since we know little about him prior to his imprisonment; he is essentially portrayed as a gentle giant, essentially good, even saint-like, forever putting the needs of others before his own (even at the risk of his own life). None of this is the fault of Emir Kusturica (better known as a director in his own right, he is quietly impressive in his acting debut), but can be attributed to significant gaps in the initial development of his character. A more interesting question raised by the film but never truly explored is that of the capability of ‘good’ people to commit ‘evil’ acts. The same themes of crime and punishment, rehabilitation, redemption and responsibility touched upon in Le veuve were explored with far greater sensitivity and thoughtfulness in Tim Robbin’s Dead Man Walking. In its desire to hammer home its anti-capital punishment stance, La veuve sacrifices psychology and crucially its overall impact.
La veuve de Saint-Pierre is a good film, although far from a great one. It’s handsomely shot, with fine set design and costumes, and excellent performances from two of France’s greatest actors. Ultimately, though, it’s let down by some muddied thinking and a lack of substantial depth behind its ideas. An intriguing, if somewhat frustrating film.
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Film: Boudu Saved from Drowning
Release date: 4th April 2011
Certificate: PG
Running time: 82 mins
Director: Jean Renoir
Starring: Michel Simon, Charles Granval, Marcelle Hainia, Severine Lerczinska, Jean Daste
Genre: Comedy
Studio: Park Circus
Format: DVD & Blu-ray
Country: France
With its 80th anniversary fast approaching, Jean Renoir's classic social comedy Boudu Saved From Drowning (1932) gets the restoration and re-release treatment on Blu-ray, courtesy of Park Circus.
Feeling despondent after losing his dog, Boudu (Michel Simon), an unkempt and curmudgeonly vagrant, decides to curtail his miserable existence by throwing himself into the Seine. A large crowd is drawn to his attempted suicide, but none choose to intervene save for local bookseller Édouard Lestingois (Charles Granval), who sees the whole thing from his apartment window. He dives into the river and fishes Boudu out, much to the relief of the onlookers – championing Lestingois as a brave hero – and much to the annoyance of Boudu.
Lestingois decides to become the tramp's benefactor; offering him food, new clothes and a warm bed. Boudu shows his gratitude by frequently challenging the manners and civility of the middle-class household in which he is a guest with arrogant and tactless behaviour. The bookseller's wife Emma (Marcelle Hainia) and housemaid/secret mistress Chloe (Sévérine Lerczinska) dislike Boudu's disruptive cantankerousness, however, Édouard is still determined to tame him, but even he has his limits...
Although it was remade by Hollywood as the commercially Successful Down And Out In Beverly Hills in the mid-80s, it’s nice to see that Renoir's original screen adaption of René Fauchois' play Boudu Sauvé des Eaux still holds an incredible and charming freshness after eight decades and, as a result, has aged rather well. Michel Simon is one of cinema's all-time great loveable oafs, playing tactless without resorting to playing dumb or stupid. It’s a skill that he went on to perfect in Jean Vigo's final film L'Atalante (1934).
The rest of the cast do well to not be overshadowed by Simon's attention grabbing hijinks. Granval excels as the good Samaritan with a shady secret, unable to perform his night time visitations to the maid's quarters because of a restless Boudu trying to adjust to sleeping indoors. The two principle female players also hold up well to Simon's buffoonery, eventually being seduced by his forthright charm and spontaneity; creating an interesting dynamic shift in time for the third act. The characters overall, feel pretty convincing and rounded - the middle-class household don't come across as being overly stuck up and stilted, nor is Boudu perceived as a caricature pauper.
Renoir takes great pleasure in exploring the double standards generated by the class divide. An early scene where a woman encourages her young daughter to help those less fortunate by offering a little money, only to be met with surly ungratefulness, foreshadows his relationship with the bookseller's household. On the flip side, Boudu is met with similar hostility when he asks a policeman if he can help find his lost dog. The policeman tells the tramp to be on his way only to then bend over backwards for a wealthy woman with a similar plight. Renoir's restrained use of music is also interesting, opting to use a minimal arrangement consisting of a lone flute (played by one of the characters); eschewing the then common practice of having ubiquitous overture and incidental music playing throughout almost every scene.
Also, it’s always nice to see that a comedy from a bygone era is still able to put a smile on one's face eighty years later. The sense of humour on display, whilst interestingly quirky, may not appeal to those who enjoy a more modern, subversive edginess to their comedy, but some humour is timeless. In fact, Boudu Saved From Drowning plays out like a sit-com in places – decades before such a thing existed – laying the groundwork for so many fish-out-of-water and mismatched partnership based comedies that would subsequently arise. On the other hand, new nostalgia based humour has been inadvertently created due to the generational gap. For example, Boudu is scolded by Lestingois' wife because he is about to leave the building without shining his shoes – would this be the case today? So, if anything, Boudu Saved From Drowning acts a bizarre time capsule, reminding future generations just how much standards have slipped over the course of the last century.
As for the Blu-ray presentation, Park Circus have done a commendable job. This is quite easily the best that Boudu Saved From Drowning has ever looked, home video or otherwise. Detail is pretty good for a film of this vintage, although it frequently shows up some of the soft photography scattered throughout, but not detrimentally so. Also, the occasional interstitial exterior shot appears underexposed, but again, this is due to the shortcomings of the original source and not necessarily the disc. On the upside, the print that Park Circus has chosen to use is very clean and free of any noteworthy damage. The audio is also pretty crisp, making Boudu Saved From Drowning worth the upgrade for those so inclined.
Boudu Saved From Drowning is a great example of vintage, pre-Hollywood Renoir. Although it has been surpassed and overshadowed many times since it was first released, even now in the 21st century, its charm and humour still resonates. It makes for an interesting look back, reminding you of why people fell in love with cinema in the first place. MP
1930s comedy starring Michel Simon as Boudu, a tramp saved from drowning in the Seine by a wealthy bookseller, who provides him shelter in his bourgeois household.
The unruly vagrant causes havoc in this civilised environment, seducing the bookseller's wife and his mistress, as well as striking it lucky in the lottery.
Having brought anarchy to the middle class family, he eventually begins to pine for his old life and decides to return to the freedom of the river.
Directed by Jean Renoir, and remade in Hollywood as Down And Out In Beverly Hills (1986).
Film: Boudu Saved From Drowning
Release date: 4th April 2011
Certificate: PG
Running time: 82 mins
Director: Jean Renoir
Starring: Michel Simon, Charles Granval, Marcelle Hainia, Severine Lerczinska, Jean Daste
Genre: Comedy
Studio: Park Circus
Format: DVD & Blu-ray
Country: France
Film: Man Of Aran
Release date: 14th March 2011
Certificate: U
Running time: 73 mins
Director: Robert J. Flaherty
Starring: Colman 'Tiger' King, Maggie Dirrane, Michael Dirrane, Pat Mullin, Patch 'Red Beard' Ruadh
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Park Circus
Format: DVD
Country: Republic of Ireland
This is an English-language release.
Legendary ‘docufiction’ creator Robert J. Flaherty is brought back to life in the re-release of his heralded Man Of Aran. The 1934 film encompasses the director’s albeit disputed accredited/discredited filming philosophy in combining fiction and documentary to present a specific view of reality cohering to Flaherty’s own poetic take on life.
The main focus of the feature is a family of three, consisting of a man of Aran, his wife and their son. They live on one of three small, rocky land masses known as the Aran Islands off the west coast of Ireland. The film follows them on their daily lives toiling amongst the harsh climatic conditions delivered by the omnipresent Atlantic. Their only means of survival seem to be based on their ability to farm on the island - with barely any soil to use - and to fish at sea for one of the biggest sharks there is in a small canoe supplied only with ropes and a harpoon.
While the wife certainly puts just as much physical effort in to daily life – gathering huge baskets of heavy seaweed and carrying it to the farm, planting potatoes, looking for rare mounds of soil under rocks – it is the man of Aran who goes to sea to do the hunting.
The last part of the film sees him head out with a handful of other fishermen with storm clouds brewing overhead. When the storm finally hits, there is a struggle for the boat to land back on shore, but after several nail-biting attempts, the man of Aran is reunited with his family…
Man Of Aran should not be mistakenly valued as a factual documentary, as it is in fact a fabricated one. Instead, it should be valued as a piece of screen art in which the director successfully portrays his visions of the world, and his most prominent theme of man versus nature. In truth, no other genre has as much persuasive influence in conveying a director’s intentions than one which involves reality, and so Flaherty cunningly manipulates the documentary to create a piece of art, something which has even led him to be proclaimed “the first American film poet.”
His efforts, however, are left unappreciated by some – mostly limited to contemporary opinion. Those expecting to see a true depiction of what life was like on the Aran Islands in the 1930s will not be able to take this film as gospel. Speaking of which, one might wonder why there is no representation of religious interest in a film about Irish life, and in fact, due to Flaherty’s personal reasons, religion is omitted as a feature. The fabrication deepens, as the family are actually all actors chosen for their photogenic nature. Even the hunting expeditions for basking sharks were a forgotten trade on the Islands by then, but Flaherty pulls the veil over the existence islanders led to invoke a sort of philosophic reality – something some inhabitants criticised at the time.
At least the film manages to engage an audience and refute a documentary’s tendency to border on the boring – especially for a documentary made so long ago. A music score is an almost constant companion to the action on screen, building tension and romanticising goings-on where necessary.
Artistic lenience in camera shots are never far away; at one point we see a shadow on a hunted basking shark of the man of Aran, harpoon in hand, claiming the huge beast as his defeated prey. Faster shots heighten suspense during the hunting scenes, and shots of the same action from different angles and distances make the pace of the film less stagnant. A DVD extra, the documentary How The Myth Was Made, reveals that Flaherty used a lot of long lens shots combined with the closer action to make the frantic waves at sea look nearer to land and more dangerous than they really were; a clever little trick that’s easily missed if not looked for.
Like his previously successful Nanook Of The North (1922), and also other not so successful works, the use of centring the subject around a small family with a young child is something of a selling point for Flaherty. Again in How The Myth Was Made, we see that Flaherty “always had an eye on the box office” (at least this explains the shot of the lamb and dog sharing a basket together in Man Of Aran). In a way this sugar-coating shows Flaherty as an optimist as well as a poet, and inevitably perhaps as viewers of his work we can learn more about Flaherty than the actual subject matter in his films.
Man Of Aran will maybe only appeal to serious film fans and lovers of the documentary – or ‘docufiction’. For what it is, a piece of film ‘poetry’, it provides a worthy study of Flaherty himself. Nevertheless, it’s interesting to note that whether fabricated or real; the theme of man’s fight for survival amongst the harsh conditions nature can throw at us is as relevant today as it was in Flaherty’s films. MI
Film: Der Rosenkavalier
Release date: 29th November 2010
Certificate: E
Running time: 192 mins
Director: Paul Czninner
Starring: Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Otto Edelmann, Sena Jurinac, Anneliese Rothenberger, Erich Kunz
Genre: Comedy/Romance/Musical
Studio: Park Circus
Format: Blu-ray
Country: UK
Following its 1911 premiere, Richard Strauss’ Der Rosenkavalier caused such a sensation that train operators ran additional trains from German-speaking Europe to take unprecedented opera-goers to Dresden. Modern opera fans won’t have to go to such extreme measures thanks to this Blu-ray release of a classic 1962 performance filmed by Paul Czinner.
The Marschallin is deeply in love with her young lover Octavian, but knows that she's getting older, and one day he'll tire of her.
Her fears are realised sooner than she anticipated when a chain of events are set in motion after her uncouth, philandering cousin Baron Ochs sets his sights on Sophie von Faninal, the beautiful daughter of a rich Viennese bourgeois. Having arranged with the young woman’s father to combine his noble rank with Faninal’s money by marrying Sophie, Ochs asks the Marschallin to recommend an appropriate young man to be his Knight of the Rose. The Marschallin duly recommends her young lover to present the silver rose to Sophie on the Baron’s behalf as a traditional symbol of courtship.
As Octavian presents the ceremonial rose to Sophie, the two fall instantly in love with one another. They must then work out a way to prevent Baron Ochs from marrying Sophie, assisted by the good-hearted Marschallin in Strauss’ 18th century-set comedy of manners…
Richard Strauss, not to be confused with the Waltz King Johann, was responsible for two of the most arcane and discordant operas of the 20th century, Elektra and Salome. Hungarian émigré Paul Czinner was a more or less openly gay man in a time when it wasn’t just frowned upon, it was a crime (in the Nazi era especially, from which Czinner was fortunate to escape). It’s odd then that these two most unconventional of men should be brought together in a curiously old fashioned romantic comedy of an opera. It should be noted that this opera would have appeared old fashioned even in Strauss’ own day, something which may have caught his audience, used to by then to his enfant terrible reputation, completely off guard. A modern equivalent would be Matthew Barney deciding to make a slapstick comedy, or Gaspar Noé embarking on a rom com. But all that seems a bit beside the point in 2010, and opera newcomers anticipating sturm und drang and high theatrics will be disappointed here. They might also struggle to condone a supposedly sophisticated work which features the part of a servant played by a child in black-face.
Aside from the casual racism of the production, one of the biggest stumbling points is the humour. It’s simply not funny. An operatic comedy of errors and manners is, to put it mildly, an acquired taste; but even so, much of the humour does seem to consist of in-jokes for the opera crowd, part of an elitist, self-congratulatory world that puts most off. Opera by its very nature is marked by heightened emotion and hyperbole, which is fine for stories about myth and legend, the extremities of life and death, but when applied to comedy, it seems misplaced. Ochs, in particular, is a real pain. A boorish buffoon and intentionally grotesque, he fulfils a function in counterbalancing much of the preciousness going on around him, but he’s rarely amusing. The only thing that might raise a smile is the initial oddness of opera’s highly stylised nature - the way characters will announce an event as banal as someone arriving at the door in huge soaring tones. Though after three hours, the fun to be had in this does become limited.
Another issue is the feeling that opera inevitably loses something when taken out of the confines of the theatre. There’s clearly a market for opera on the small-screen, and it offers a chance for opera fanatics to catch classic or older performances they might otherwise never see, but as an introduction to the world of opera, it can’t be recommended. There’s a ritualistic aspect in going to a theatre to watch an opera; and though the camera essentially gives you the best seat in the house, it can’t really compare to being there, just as no sound system can equal the acoustics of a theatre and the sensory overload of being sat in the audience. With this caveat in mind, the film does as good a job as it possibly can. The restoration is excellent (there’s a comparison as one of the extras), transforming the beige, washed-out hues of the original print into glorious Technicolour. The ornate set design and costumes really stand out in this lavish production, all ably captured by Czinner’s fine camerawork.
The most important aspect is, of course, the music; and much of Der Rosenkavalier is undeniably beautiful. There can be a preponderance for note-spinning, and the music that comes on when we’re being shown that something comic is going on is tiresome, but, for the most part, we are witnessing opera singers at the very peak of their powers. The final duet between Octavian and Sophie is particularly breathtakingly gorgeous. It is at such moments that you begin to appreciate the almost super-human talents of opera singers, their abilities to command their vocals to perform feats that seem beyond the limits of the human voice. None more so than Elisabeth Schwarzkopf as the Marschallin in the role many have said she was born to play.
However, the conducting of Herbert Von Karajan is perhaps the weak link in this staging of Der Rosenkavalier, in that you really have to work to get to the work’s subtext. It has been said that the music in Der Rosenkavalier isn’t all that different from Elektra. If you listen very carefully, you can hear moments of dissonance at work, the avant-garde undercutting the seemingly conventional and working in much the same way as Brecht’s alienation techniques to make us question just what exactly is being presented to us. But this Karajan recording almost completely obscures this technique behind flowery flourishes and sickly sweet orchestration. As a result, it’s easy to overlook the crucial darker undertones of the work. This is a society on the brink, the twilight of an era, and Strauss’ piece subtly undermines the notion of the ‘golden era’, which underpins a great deal of the opera canon. This is a world in which women are still seen as property, traded in for newer models when their looks began to fade, and marriage used as a vehicle towards status or money. Der Rosenkavalier depicts a social milieu in which love is essentially bought and sold for cash, the hard, coarse reality beneath the veneer of polite society. But all the bluntness implied is elegantly dressed in coiffured wigs and crinolines, so that the utter heartbreak at the centre of the story occurs offstage - the Marschallin retires to weep her heart out in the wings, as Sophie and Octavian (who is, of course, merely Och's younger reincarnation, as Sophie is the Marschallin's) canoodle in private. But you have to really read behind the lines to get any of this in a production, which makes Strauss’ opera appear much more conventional than it actually is.
Czinner’s film has been in and out of print on VHS and DVD over the years, establishing itself as one of the ‘must have’ cult items for a certain segment of the opera loving public. But this review is aimed at international cinema fans and as such it’s hard to recommend Der Rosenkavalier. No doubt it will be seized upon and treasured by those in the know. The rest of us may well be left wondering what all the fuss is about. GJK
A Parisian bookseller, Lestingois, fishes Boudu, a vagrant, out of the Seine after seeing the man throw himself into the river. He befriends the tramp and puts him up at home.
Boudu’s coarse and irreverent behaviour shocks the whole household at first but he agrees to change his appearance and Madame Lestingois succumbs to his charms. Boudu, however, only has eyes for the maid, Anne-Marie, who happens to be the bookseller’s mistress.
Events take a different turn when Boudu wins 100,000 francs in the lottery.
This release of 1932’s Boudu Saved From Drowning (Boudu sauve des eaux) has been restored through the 2K digitalisation of the original nitrate negative image and a “safety” print. The original 1.19 aspect ratio has been re-established. It is worth noting that a previously missing scene was by chance conserved in the original negative, thus allowing presentation of a more complete version of the film.
Film: Boudu Saved From Drowning
Release date: 17th December 2010
Certificate: PG
Running time: 84 mins
Director: Jean Renoir
Starring: Michel Simon, Charles Granval, Marcelle Hainia, Severine Lerczinska, Régine Lutèce
Genre: Comedy
Studio: Park Circus
Format: Cinema
Country: France
Film: Der Rosenkavalier
Release date: 29th November 2010
Certificate: E
Running time: 192 mins
Director: Paul Czninner
Starring: Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Otto Edelmann, Sena Jurinac, Anneliese Rothenberger, Erich Kunz
Genre: Comedy/Romance/Musical
Studio: Park Circus
Format: Blu-ray
Country: UK
This version of Der Rosenkavalier was a 1962 stage performance of German composer Richard Strauss’s renowned comic opera. It was filmed live in the accompaniment of the Vienna State Opera Chorus and Philharmonic Orchestra, where the newly released Blu-ray boasts a painstakingly restored colour and image, highlighting the luscious production values of the three hour opus.
Der Rosenkavalier is a classic love story told across three acts with a powerful operatic score. The events follow the relationships and interactions between four main characters: the aristocratic Marschallin (Schwarzkopf); her young lover Octavian (Jurinac), a part sung by a woman; her philandering cousin Baron Ochs auf Lerchenau (Edelmann); and his young potential fiancée Sophie von Faninal (Rothenberger), the daughter of the wealthy Herr von Faninal (Kunz).
Baron Ochs, having arranged with Sophie's father Faninal to combine his noble rank with Faninal's money by marrying Sophie, asks the Marschallin to suggest an appropriate young man to be his Knight of the Rose, who will present a silver rose to Sophie on his behalf as a traditional symbol of courtship. She recommends Octavian.
When Octavian delivers the rose, he and Sophie fall in love on sight, and must figure out how to prevent Baron Ochs from marrying Sophie. They accomplish this in a comedy of errors that is smoothed over with the help of the Marschallin…
The main draw of this Blu-ray version of Der Rosenkavalier – aside from the impressive operatic performances of the large cast – is the newly restored image of the event. Filmed live in 1962, this version, of course, shows elements of grain consistent with the time in which it was originally produced. Yet, as an extra on the disc highlights, a painstaking process of restoration to the original print has greatly increased the vibrancy of the stage performance. As a result, the opulent costume and set designs seem to pop out of the screen. Indeed, this is perhaps as close to being in a live audience witnessing the opera unfold (short of being there at the time of filming) as one could imagine.
Director Paul Czinner’s framing of the three operatic acts of the story allows a sense of grandeur and adds to the atmosphere of watching a performance filmed live. Each of the three acts lasts for a significant amount of time, and, as with the necessity of a stage production, each of the acts largely remain statically situated within one set. While this is fine when watching a performance live in a theatre, there is a danger of stagnancy under the scope of a film. However, the production design and stage dressing largely negates this, as while Czinner is prohibited from making cinematic sweeping shots of Austrian vistas, the colourful and highly detailed costumes and interior sets are impressive in their splendour.
Title cards between acts set up the events still to occur in the following act, and are hugely evocative of the time in which the opera took place, as well as adding to the sense of magnificence of the aristocracy in a bygone age. There is also a tendency to focus on the large scale orchestra before and after each act; wisely highlighting the magnificent contribution of the orchestra conducted by Herbert Von Karajan, with Richard Strauss’s original music in front of the live audience.
The performances of the large cast, and particularly the centrally focused characters, are impressively faultless across the three hours. In the role of the Marschallin, Elisabeth Schwarzkopf especially expresses a beautiful consistency and range in her voice, whilst simultaneously expressing the anguish and emotional turmoil her character has to endure. Similarly the character of Octavian (Sena Jurinac) is well portrayed, where the female Jurinac continues the tradition of a female playing the role of the young male Octavian.
However, Otto Edelmann’s boorish Baron is almost too-much larger than life in a performance that only occasionally crosses into pantomime (although perhaps this is merely a result of acting on stage in front of an expectant audience). The film also shows its age in the fleeting depiction of the Marschallin’s child servant, who wears ‘black-face’ make-up. Ultimately, though, a product of its time as Der Rosenkavalier certainly is, this filmed version owes a debt of gratitude to Paul Czinner’s direction, with an opening title card intimating that Czinner’s developed method of capturing live performance is one which has helped to preserve this opera and others “for the enjoyment of wider audiences to-day and as a record for posterity.”
Newly restored in the high-definition Blu-ray format, Der Rosenkavalier looks and feels wonderfully vibrant, particularly when considering that almost fifty years have passed since this particular stage version was filmed live. While perhaps not to everyone’s liking (the three-hour plus runtime may be tough going for some), the operatic performances, from renowned sopranos such as Elisabeth Schwarzkopf and Sena Jurinac, soar impressively. DB
Under the conducting of Herbert Von Karajan, the Vienna State Opera Ballet, the State Opera Chorus, the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra and the famous singers Elisabeth Schwarzkopf and Otto Edelmann, all combine to give a colourful and inspiring performance of Richard Strauss' Der Rosenkavalier.
The story is set in the Royal Court of Vienna, where the princess is being wooed by Octavian, a handsome young cavalier, despite her married state. Complications arise when Octavian falls in love with her younger sister, Sophie, whom another is trying to win.
Set to a rousing musical score, this opera is a classic love story. This Blu-ray-only release features the film restored in HD.
Film: Der Rosenkavalier
Release date: 29th November 2010
Certificate: E
Running time: 192 mins
Director: Paul Czninner
Starring: Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Otto Edelmann, Sena Jurinac, Anneliese Rothenberger, Erich Kunz
Genre: Comedy/Romance/Musical
Studio: Park Circus
Format: Blu-ray
Country: UK
Blu-ray Special Features:
•
Theatrical trailer
•
Before/after restoration
•
Photo gallery
Film: Vigo – A Passion For Life
Release date: 19th April 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Julien Temple
Starring: Romane Bohringer, James Frain, Diana Quick, Jim Carter, William Scott-Masson
Genre: Biography/Drama
Studio: Park Circus
Format: DVD
Country: France/UK/Japan
This is an English-Language release.
Most know director Julien Temple for his music documentaries but in this 1999 film he gives us a larger-than-life drama chronicling the life of classical French film director Jean Vigo.
We begin in a sanatorium where, while being treated for Tuberculosis, Jean Vigo meets the love of his life, Lydu Lozinska. After convincing her to leave the asylum, the two enjoy a passionate affair which culminates in marriage.
Meanwhile, Jean is uncovering the secrets of his past. It transpires that his father, who he believed committed suicide while in jail, was actually murdered by the state. As Jean’s film career beings to take off, he is held back by his father’s reputation as an anarchist and traitor.
As news of his lineage spreads, his films become marred by censorship and state control. As he fights for his creative rights, his health takes a turn for the worse and soon Jean is fighting for his life...
Vigo - A Passion For Life is classic melodrama. The central performances from James Frain, as Jean Vigo, and Romane Bohringer, as his long suffering wife, consist on bellowing passionate proclamations around gothic sanatoriums, darkened hallways and barely lit poor houses. Director Julien Temple highlights this further by exhibiting a strange expressionism. Flashes of unnatural colour, bizarre close-ups and disorientating angles appear all too infrequently, but, when they do, they elevate the film above its formulaic narrative structure. Despite this, Vigo - A Passion For Life just feels too familiar.
This is biographical filmmaking by-the-numbers: The tortured genius who has to battle an indifferent world; the wife that is loved and then ignored; the kindly producer who sticks by our ‘genius’ despite his radical ideals. The storytelling becomes so clichéd that as soon as a scene begins you can guess exactly where it is heading. Boredom very quickly sets in.
There is also a strange assumption on the part of the filmmakers that its audience knows who Jean Vigo is. Anyone entering without any prior knowledge is left in the dark about his achievements. Many of the major plot-points remain ambiguous and emotionally un-effecting unless you have seen Jean Vigo’s work, which, considering Vigo was an independent French filmmaker from the ‘30s, is unlikely. It is never explained why A Propos De Nice caused audiences to riot, or why Zero De Conduite was banned - we are simply told that they were. This has another unfortunate effect on the film.
As an audience, we are given no evidence that Vigo was a genius, or even that his works were any good. This renders the main character’s dedication to his art as selfish, his outbursts tantrums, rather than the actions of a man pushed to the edge. Vigo does still manage to entertain, and this is mainly to do with Julien Temple.
Temple’s direction mostly involves letting the action unfold, but just occasionally, as has previously been stated, a flash of overt visuality unfolds. For example, near the end, Vigo begins to imagine ‘Death’ as a top-hat wearing man, playing his accordion. In one dream-sequence, Jean and his wife tie up Death with lines of celluloid. At the end of the movie, after both are dead, we see them dancing, as ghostly apparitions upon a barge. Through an interesting use of symbolism, Temple suggests that cinema is a way to fight against the logical order of things; even the inevitability of death. But by this point it is too late. We are asked to mourn for self-important characters that have spent the majority of the film predictably moving from plot point A to plot point B.
An entertaining melodrama hampered by its use of recurring cliché. Julien Temple’s direction shows an understanding of cinematic conventions that far outweighs the quality of a dull, by-the-numbers script. AC
Film: Brother
Release date: 4th October 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 109 mins
Director: Takeshi Kitano
Starring: Beat Takeshi, Omar Epps, Claude Maki, Masaya Kato, Ren Osugi
Genre: Crime/Drama/Thriller
Studio: Park Circus
Format: DVD
Country: USA/UK/Japan
Takeshi Kitano is a man who needs no introduction. The charismatic filmmaker, actor, painter, poet and presenter is revered in his native Japan, but has also received global recognition for his work in film, most notably for 2003’s Zatoichi. Brother, released in cinemas in 2000, was a deliberate attempt by Takeshi to bring his films to a wider, Western audience, and sees him covering familiar ground with its story of warring yakuza members.
Under the threat of assassination, a high ranking yakuza flees Japan under an assumed identity and joins his younger brother in America to start a new life. It’s not long before he begins to build a new crew, bringing the brutal methods of the Japanese yakuza to the streets of Los Angeles.
One by one, he mercilessly dispatches or assimilates his competitors on his new territory, and establishes himself as the head of a powerful new crime empire. It’s not long, however, before his merciless assent to power has repercussions very close to home in the form of reprisals from embittered rivals, and Yamamoto’s world begins to crumble around him…
This is undoubtedly Takeshi’s film, and his central performance as Yamamoto is captivating; cool, effortlessly slick, wry and brutal. Whether cheating at dice, shooting rival gang leaders in the knees, or slinking about the dark city streets in his immaculate suit, Takeshi oozes charisma in every scene. The film happily pivots around this magnetic performance, and Takeshi carries it easily. He is backed by some strong, solid work by the supporting cast, most notably Claude Maki as his younger brother Ken, and friend Denny played by Omar Epps.
The idea of a yakuza abroad building a new empire on American soil feels like a fresh new take on both the gangster and yakuza genres, and Takeshi should be congratulated for finding a new approach to this well-trodden ground. Much is made – both comedic and otherwise – of Yamamoto finding his way in unknown territory, and the use of dual languages (English and Japanese) is a clever tool which actively engages the audience in the culture clash happening onscreen.
Brother is all about style. The suits are flawless, the dialogue is snappy and dry, and the colour palette is dark and monochromic. It could be argued that there isn’t too much substance under all this – the story itself is very simple, and the relationships between the characters aren’t that more complex – but the film never pretends to be more than is. Takeshi’s direction style is typically functional and no-nonsense, often bordering on the static, but this is no bad thing, allowing the characters plenty of room to breathe. The city of Los Angeles, where the action takes place, is shot beautifully, and full credit must go to Katsumi Yanagijima’s cinematography for some extraordinary work. Things are paced slowly and patiently, and this suits the slowly unfurling story of Yamamoto’s growing empire perfectly. Also prevalent is Joe Hisaishi’s beautifully elegant and sorrowful score. This was Takeshi’s fifth film collaboration with the composer, and, by the results here, it is easy to see why.
Morally there are some issues. Brother is a film which arguably glamorises gang violence and lionises gangsters, but it’s all done with such taste and, crucially, a healthy sense of humour and sense of itself that it’s easy to forgive. The death count is high, and there are enough fingers being sliced off and gang brutality to please gore-fans, but overall the violence stays over-the-top and cartoon-like enough to keep things from becoming truly unpleasant. It’s a ratio which works well - Brother emerges as a thoroughly entertaining, satisfying experience which happily leaves no bitter aftertaste.
If there are any criticisms, it is a tendency towards sentimentality and melodrama towards the end, but it’s not too much to become cloying or spoil all the good brutal, stylish fun that’s gone before. There’s also an area of confusion in the middle where it’s not quite clear who’s being killed by who, in which gang and why, but, again, it’s not something which detracts from the film.
Brother is a hugely enjoyable, multi-cultural gangster epic which has been seen by some as a low point in Takeshi’s catalogue, but actually deserves far more recognition. Violent, morally questionable it may be, but it’s also sharp, stylish and wicked funny - and rooted by a captivating central performance by the man himself. LOZ
This is an English-language release.
What if there was no tomorrow? What if you knew the world was coming to an end? How – and with whom – would you spend your last hours on earth? These are the questions facing a number of very different individuals ahead of the millennium in this beautifully shot drama.
Don McKellar plays an architect who plans to meet his maker alone, while others party, or pray, in groups. A recently married couple make a suicide pact, but are caught apart and struggle to get back together. One man pursues final sexual conquests, and a weak woman strives to gain courage.
As the end of the world approaches, these strangers’ lives end up interacting.
Film: Last Night
Release date: 20th September 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 92 mins
Director: Don McKellar
Starring: Don McKellar, Sandra Oh, David Cronenberg, Roberta Maxwell, Robin Gammell
Genre: Drama
Studio: Park Circus
Format: DVD
Country: Canada/France
DVD Special Features:
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Theatrical trailer
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Stills gallery
Film: Henri-Georges Clouzot's Inferno
Release date: 12th April 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 100 mins
Director: Serge Bromberg & Ruxandra Medrea
Starring: Romy Schneider, Serge Reggiani, Bérénice Bejo, Jacques Gamblin
Genre: Documentary
Studio: Park Circus
Format: DVD
Country: France
185 film reels hidden in silence for forty-six years - these constitute the cinematic treasure Inferno (L’Enfer) that remained trapped in the abysses of forgetfulness for almost half a century, before being dug up by Serge Bromberg and Ruxandra Medrea in 2005.
Henri-Georges Clouzot's Inferno sees the documentary makers return to a film whose production was stopped after only three weeks of shooting, leaving many questions unanswered.
The original plot of Inferno records a couple of newlyweds - Marcel Prieur (Serge Reggiani), and his younger wife Odette (Romy Schneider) - who have just moved to the French countryside to take over a hotel.
The life of Marcel turns gradually into a night-and-day nightmare when he becomes suspicious about his very attractive wife cheating on him, with the local hunk Martineau or with her friend Marylou. As he starts to follow Odette, his mistrust towards her grows into distrust, which ultimately rots to the point of blurring his perception of reality tremendously…
In this framework, the film Inferno tracks the descent into hell of a man whose pathological jealousy leads him to madness. The film does not contain anything remarkable on this level. Nevertheless, the genius of some directors – like Henri-Georges Clouzot – stands out in the alchemy to transform an ordinary story into a masterpiece in the history of the seventh art…
To quickly put the film in context, it is important to mention that Henri-Georges Clouzot was renowned in France and beyond its borders thanks to the thrillers Wages Of Fear (Le Salaire de la Peur) in 1953, Diabolique (Les Diaboliques) in 1955, or La Verite – starring Brigitte Bardot – in 1960. Inferno would mark his comeback after four challenging years in his personal life spent away from the public eye. It would be as well a means to express his resistance to the ever-critical New Wave tendency for improvisation.
In actual fact, the core of the documentary – and its main interest – lies in the primary resources, such as the selection of camera tests and visual shootings chosen from the fifteen-hour reels. “Inferno for Clouzot was the determination to make another kind of filmmaking.” In order to seize the experience of neurosis, the director explored kinetic art and colours to transpose it into visual experimentations (“optical coitus”), which would eventually depict an accurate representation of his imagination. These precious images unveil Romy Schneider as Odette Prieur – the centre of attention of Henri-Georges Clouzot and Marcel Prieur respectively – like nobody has ever seen her before. Most people remember the actress as Sissi (1955), but if Inferno had been released, the realm of Bavaria and the rest of the world would have been seriously shaken by the sequences. Furthermore, we can make a hint at the test recordings, from music to voices, and especially Clouzot’s when interpreting scripts. All these parts tend to prove the minutiae of his filmmaking method, and to call our attention to pay him solemn respect. Ultimately, the director Serge Bromberg, as an omniscient narrator, reveals stories behind the camera, and notably for the reasons why the artistic perfectionism of Henri-Georges Clouzot would lead to a dead end.
Original scenes with corresponding dialogue are spread out throughout the film, interspersed with interviews, re-enactments, and also extracts of scriptless pictures. It opens with an interview of Clouzot, in which he explains the motives that led him to the genesis of Inferno, and his aspiration to capture the darkest depths of neurosis, through Marcel’s eyes. He would make it happen on the screen with the finesse of a meticulous surgeon, by dissecting this ambition according to different key components – visual and audio in particular. As a consequence, the series of interviews of prominent staff on duty then allows the audience to catch the spirit behind each experiment conducted, and to discover the titanic works implied and realised for the sake of Clouzot’s visionary art, as well as it reveals the general atmosphere and the individual moods. Then, because all the film cans discovered are soundless, Serge Bromberg added a personal touch by inputting the participation of Berenice Bejo and Jacques Gamblin to complete the missing audio elements. Firstly, their voices are used to dub Odette and Marcel Prieur; and then, interestingly, they are filmed reading some scripts in a dark and empty space, with no mise-en-scène at all. These bland pictures absolutely contrast with the richness and the quality of the original ones; nevertheless, it is a useful strategy to keep the viewer focused on Clouzot’s work.
Blomberg and Medrea succeed to make the viewer fantasise about what Clouzot did, but also said: “Le cinéma est une invention permanente (cinema is an endless invention).” MCR
