The Earrings of Madame De... (1954): Ophüls Gold?

Max Ophüls is considered one of the great film directors of the 20th century. "The Earrings of Madame De…" is considered perhaps his greatest work or certainly one of them. His other movies of the same period include La Ronde (1950), Le Plaisir (1952) and Lola Montes (1955). While I had heard of all of these films, I had not actually seen any of Ophüls work before last week, when I watched Madame De with some friends. It is a tragic love story. It is beautifully shot in black and white. It has a great cast and is well acted. It also is overlong and suffers from a plodding, trite plot; or at least so it seemed to me and my fellow cinephiles.

Afterwards, we re-watched portions of the film with commentary (on the excellent Criterion Collection DVD) and I read up a little about Ophüls oeuvre, in order to better understand what we had seen and why this director was so highly regarded. From a technique perspective, Ophüls was admired for his emphasis on long, single camera tracking shots. In other words, he would shoot entire scenes with one camera, on a track, sliding along with the actor or with the action, pivoting where necessary, but without any intercutting from other perspectives or cameras. Madame De included several instances of this, including the opening shot, which tracks the female protagonist, Louise (Danielle Darrieux) - the youngish wife of wealthy, noble General Andre de … (Charles Boyer) - in her boudoir as she carefully selects a piece of jewelry to hock. Watching that opening scene a second time, paying particular attention to how it was shot, I had to admit that it was beautifully and creatively done. Thinking back, the same was true of several other moments in the film. Although Ophüls wasn't the first to use tracking shots, he was a master at it. Undoubtedly, well worth examining in film school.

Still, no matter how excellent or groundbreaking the technique, a film needs to engage us on other levels. Few people would watch Citizen Kane nowadays, notwithstanding Orson Welles' numerous creative innovations, if the story and the characters didn't engage us; but that film still works and is much more entertaining than Madame De.

Some reviewers cite the romanticism of Madame De as a wondrous attraction; but I found the love affair and the romantic anguish of the story superficial and unconvincing. Some have lauded the lavish environment in which the film is set, and while this was interesting, I've certainly seen better, such as the lush trappings of Visconti’s 1954 epic, Senso, as one example.The tragic romance was also far more convincing in that picture.

Here, we are asked to take it on faith that Louise, who likes to flirt with other men, actually falls in love with the Italian diplomat Baron Donati (Vittorio de Sica). In the late 19^th century world depicted in this movie, a married noblewoman is permitted her flirtations, but not an extramarital affair. (This rule does not apply to the men, of course.) For a woman to engage in such an affair is tres dangereux, potentially resulting in humiliation and even death. Okay, but the story doesn’t work if no particular motivation or reason is provided  for the protagonists to fall in love. While it is apparent that Louise is not in love with her husband, we are not shown why. The General is considerably older than Louise, but the Baron is every bit as old. Indeed, the husband and the paramour are very much alike: both are wealthy men of the world, suave and sophisticated. In Senso, by contrast, we understand very clearly why the Contessa is unhappy in her marriage and why she is attracted to her dashing young lover.

The acting of Darrieux, De Sica and particularly Boyer is quite good, but absent a solid story, it is not good enough to keep the movie interesting for its entire 105 minutes. Despite Darrieux’ efforts, her character comes across as an unlikely protagonist for a love story: Louise is bored much of the time, superficial, and ultimately uninteresting. By the time her situation turns tragic, we really don’t care.

What I did find interesting in Madame De was the depiction of the world of wealth and privilege in which the "action" is set. For example, early on, there is a nearly slapstick scene in which the General rushes in and out of several doors at the opera house repeatedly. At every door there is a uniformed, gold braided doorman, and each is bored out of his skull waiting around for the swells to need a door opened for them; yet the doormen quickly become exasperated when the same patron goes out, then in, then out, then in again, requiring them to get up, open the door, then sit down, then get up again, etc.  Another example is the depiction of the jeweler, Monsieur Remy (Jean Debucourt) a fawning tradesman to the nobility. It is to M. Remy that Louise goes to sell her earrings in the first place. However, it was M. Remy who sold those earrings to the General originally (as a wedding present for Louise), and no sooner does Louise depart than Remy, out of loyalty to the General, goes to him with the earrings to tell him what happened, whereupon the General buys them again from the jeweler. The difference in class and social status between this high-end jeweler and the General is palpable, and interesting to see. Still, these attractions cannot sustain a feature-length film.

I am aware that The Earrings of Madame De … and its director have their fans and supporters. I would love to hear from those folks, who perhaps can explain to me what I have failed to appreciate. I’d also like to know why the surname of the General and Louise are omitted from the title …

This film may be of interest to anyone interested in the history of cinema or directorial technique. If it is a gripping story, a heart-rending tragedy, or simple entertainment you seek, you may want to seek elsewhere.

Available on DVD (Criterion Collection), from Netflix.

Trainspotting (1996): High and Low

I finally watched Trainspotting last week for the first time. Everyone else in my family had seen it years ago, and I figured I was just about the only person I knew who hadn’t. Turns out I was wrong; although popular among some groups, this is not exactly a mainstream movie. It is edgy, funny, hip, engrossing, disturbing, and a classic of its genre. Actually I'm not sure how to define that genre. There are not a lot of movies about junkies really; perhaps not enough to categorize in that way. Anyway, I haven't seen that many. Still, it’s a classic – nominated for an Oscar, considered one of the better British films of the last twenty years.

Trainspotting is about a group of disaffected working-class youth in Edinburgh Scotland, most of whom have turned away from life, hope and aspiration and turned to heroin instead. The narrator and central figure is Mark "Rent Boy" Renton, played by a young Ewan McGregor in a breakout role (but check him out in 1994's Shallow Grave, as well). As a narrator, Rent Boy is witty, ironic, and wise; but as a character in his own life, he is a fuck-up. After all, he is a heroin addict. Why? He explains: "People think it's all about misery and desperation and death and all that shit which is not to be ignored, but what they forget is the pleasure of it. Otherwise we wouldn't do it." So that’s one reason. The claustrophobia of working class life in an economically depressed Edinburgh might  be another.

Why is this a “classic” movie?  A collage of other reviewer’s comments gives a flavor:

Exuberant and pitiless, profane yet eloquent, flush with the ability to create laughter out of unspeakable situations, "Trainspotting" is a drop-dead look at a dead-end lifestyle that has all the strength of its considerable contradictions.[1]

Trainspotting is a singular sensation, a visionary knockout spiked with insight, wild invention and outrageous wit.[2]

It's as if Boyle entered the mind of a junkie, ripped out the catacombs of hallucination and poured them whole onto celluloid.[3]

The experience of watching Trainspotting -- the electric, nasty and slick descent into the milieu of young Scottish junkies -- is a little like speeding through the digestive tract of some voracious beast.[4]

Put simply, Trainspotting is one of those films that gets the mixture just right. The dialogue, the music, the performances, the direction, the production values, the humor, the shock-value.[5]

I agree. And much of the credit goes to the Director Danny Boyle, whose other eclectic credits include Shallow Grave (1994), 28 Days later (2002),Slumdog Millionaire (2008), and 127 hours (2010). Perhaps most interesting is Boyle’s ability, with able assistance from cinematographer Brian Tufano,  to capture the feeling, the experience of a narcotic rush via filmic technique: evocative camera angles and sound design, matched to credible acting and narrative. The needle goes in, the addict swoons backward, the world telescopes away, the tone of the music shifts, etc.  Another remarkable scene brings us into the room with Rent Boy as he experiences cold-turkey withdrawal. A perfect blending of photographic craft, great acting, hallucinatory images and eerily altered sound gives the viewer a convincing sense of being in that room.

I liked this picture even though I could only actually make out about 25% of the dialogue between the deadbeats populating this picture. In fact, I kept marveling to myself along the way how cool it was that it held my interested even though I often didn’t get w-t-f they were saying.  Didn’t seem to matter. And, amazingly,  afterwards, when I perused some of the more memorable quotes from the movie on IMDB , I recalled hearing them. You do hear the important stuff. It also helped that Trainspotting not only features the Ewan McGregor character, but is narrated by him, and the narration is easy to get.

McGregor is not his usual cute, dimply self here, but a somewhat emaciated, convincing disaffected addict.  The rest of the ensemble holds it own as well.  Particularly riveting is Robert Carlyle,  as a violent sociopath with, let’s say, an anger management problem . And there was the young Kevin McKidd as Tommy, almost unrecognizeable from the role I associate him with: Lucius Vorenus in Rome. Kelly McDonald is a nice relief from the drear, as the girl.

Watch Trainspotting. It’ll stick with you for awhile.

---

[1] Kenneth Turan, LA Times

[2] Peter Travers, Rolling Stone

[3] Todd Gilchrist, Filmstew.com

[4] Liam Lace, Globe & Mail

[5] Oz, eFilmCritic.com

In The Loop (2009): Might As Well Laugh

In The Loop is a bitingly funny political satire that somehow slipped under the radar in the US when it was released a couple years ago (although it was well reviewed by movie critics at the time). It is kind of a cross between The Office and The West Wing  -  British style. The movie is witty, goofy, pithy, and insightful. It will make you laugh; though it may leave you a little depressed as well. The Dark Side can be very powerful, my friend.

Imagine a time when in both the US and the UK there is a drumbeat for war, although the reasons for going to war are hazy and perhaps not very convincing. Imagine that there are good guys and bad guys, with the good guys trying to inject rationality and factual reality into the debate, and the bad guys just trying to win by whatever means necessary. And finally, imagine that the bad guys have the upper hand. Sound familiar? This is the milieu in which In the Loop is set.

Although echoes of January through March 2003 are clear, George W. Bush, Tony Blair, WMD, and the country of Iraq are never mentioned in this film. Instead, we get a glimpse of the political maneuvering just below the head of state level in both the UK and the American governments. The initial focus is on a clueless, nearly imbecilic British minister named Simon Foster (Tom Hollander). Coming out of the meeting, he bungles a question about the prospects of a war ("war is unforeseeable"), and then further sticks his foot in it when trying to explain what he meant (“There is a plane in the fog. A mountain is there and … it is unforeseeable.”). We meet his staff - including Judy (Gina McKee), the imperturbable communications secretary, a civil servant who has seen ministers come and go; and Toby (Chris Addison), the new political assistant, young, naïve, ambitious - as they try to "position" their boss to stay out of trouble yet gain more power.

We also soon meet one of the great comic villains of recent years, Malcolm Tucker (Peter Capaldi). Malcolm is apparently the PM’s right-hand man, his enforcer. He is on Simon like a collie on a flock of sheep. A very angry, foulmouthed  Scotsman of a collie. Malcolm is a conniving bully. He does not cajole, he threatens. He will not be denied. He also cannot utter two sentences without spewing a string of creative, expletive laden imprecations. The PM, it seems, is intent on war, and is looking for allies and stalking horses. Simon can be useful, and Malcolm is there to ensure that he doesn’t screw things up.

In the US, Assistant Secretary of State Karen Clark (Mimi Kennedy) and her ally Gen. George Miller (James Gandolfini) are concerned about the Administration’s not so secret intentions for a war, and are trying to stop it. Kennedy has a laugh out loud scene involving, of all things, bleeding gums; both she and Gandolfini have some very witty lines. They, too, are seeking to enlist Simon to their cause. Opposing them is Linton Barwick (David Rasche), sort of a cross between Dick Cheney, Paul Wolfowitz, and Karl Rove, played here as a smug, imperious, supercilious politico. Like Malcolm, Linton Barwick is a know-it -all, although he does not get as much screen time as his British counterpart. As a cute counterpoint to Malcolm, Linton dislikes profanity (in speech, that is; his motives and actions are certainly vulgar).

Because Simon is essentially a cipher, there's no telling how or why he will be swayed or what he will do. But, of course, we  already know how the debate will turn out. And if we know the sad story, how can this be funny? Umm, ever see Dr. Strangelove? A little exaggeration can go a long way.

I don't know how to describe a comedy in a way that can convey why it's funny. Here, the situation is obviously, darkly, absurd (just as it was in real life). Throw in believable yet slightly off kilter characters, large and small, imaginatively witty dialogue, a few slapstick situations, a clever screenplay, plus a deft director (Armando Ionucci), and voila! Oh, and some finely etched, comic performances.

Tom Hollander, who we last saw as the weird psychopathic killer Isaacs in Hanna, is terrific here as the out-of-his-depth dufus, with a deer-in-the-headlights mien. Gandolfini and Kennedy, as the well intentioned Americans, do a great job of lampooning their characters while still somehow ‘representing’ the good guys. The villains, as I have noted, are a delight. Minor characters also contribute. For example, the British UN Ambassador, Sir Jonathan Tutt (Alex MacQueen), is very high tone, old-school Oxbridge, and proper as he explains to Malcolm why protocol prevents him from even asking for a Security Council vote to be advanced a couple of hours; but after a typical Malcolm tongue lashing, we next see him doing just that at the meeting. (One of Malcolm's tamer threats: "Just fucking do it! Otherwise you'll find yourself in some medieval war zone in the Caucasus with your arse in the air, trying to persuade a group of men in balaclavas that sustained sexual violence is not the fucking way forward!"). And then there is Jamie McDonald (Paul Higgins), kind of like Malcolm’s Mini-Me, a doppelgänger who spews his venom almost as well (right down to the Scottish tilt), and as humorously, as his master.

I recommend this picture highly. However, if you are offended by strong language, it may not be your f-ing cup of tea.

Available on DVD and from Netflix.