Been a while but before I get to the housekeeping, I know
@acintya got slammed a while back when he (rightly) said this year's Oscar winner
Parasite ain't all that. I wonder how many of you are familiar with the rest of Bong's output because if it's his genre hopping you were most impressed by I say
The Host (2006) and perhaps
Okja (2017) did it better, while you can turn to
Snowpiercer (2013 - heard the TV reboot falls well short of the original) for more biting class politics. And that's not to mention superior critiques of class conflict from other filmmakers of yore including
Chabrol's La Cérémonie, Naruse's criminally neglected melodramas - among the available Criterion titles I recommend, in chronological order,
Every-Night Dreams,
Late Chrysanthemums,
When a Woman Ascends the Stairs and
Yearning - and of course Chaplin's immortal weepies. For all the inconveniences and hardships that have been imposed by the current pandemic there has never been a better time to get acquainted with these masterworks, and I hope you will use this opportunity to explore beyond the latest talk of the town especially when there's not much talk to begin with.
Speaking of which I discovered the TCM (Turner Classic Movies) app about 2-3 months ago, and I can say without exaggeration that I've seen more good/great movies since than in any previous stretch in my life (yes, even when I was getting started with the Criterion Collection, though I wasn't admittedly a big cinephile then). Just an unfathomable trove of treasures both famous and obscure and everything in between from classic Hollywood, which brings to mind - with all due respect to the more famous
Cahiers du cinéma stalwarts - Luc Moullet's bon mot: "The American cinema. How redundant." Those of you in the US with a cable subscription are strongly advised to check out the app, and even some of you outside may wanna look into the
VPN workaround or at least the good old-fashioned TV offerings.
Will try to share some thoughts on a few lesser-known (yet choice!) titles later this week. In the meantime I'll direct your attention to TCM's monthlong showcase of Chaplin's finest shorts and features which will be available till 9/7 (8 pm EST, at least in my hood), including all of his celebrated United Artists features (1923-52) and most of his work for First National (1918-23). And not gonna lie, once I saw
City Lights on the VOD list I clicked and fast-forwarded to the sublime ending:
That's despite moi owning the Criterion Blu-ray, LOL. Arguably the greatest of all endings in cinema.
One more thing (or four):
This might have been my very first encounter with Lang, or if I did see it before
M or
Metropolis, it wasn't long after. One of the very best melodramas/noirs ever made, one that understands the illicit passions of obsessive love better than almost any other but refuses to patronize the transgressors. I haven't seen Renoir's
La Chienne but I doubt even the French master wrung more out of Georges de La Fouchardière's eponymous novel than Lang in his remake.
Now let's play a little bit of Six Degrees of XXX. Edward G. Robinson may not be known for his comedic chops, but he could give the likes of Cary Grant, James Stewart and Jack Lemmon a run for their funny bones, as you can see in his masterful doppelganger performance in Ford's
The Whole Town's Talking (good clips from which are hard to come by, alas):
I especially dug his subtle change of facial expression in his gangster persona's first on-screen encounter with the police, which helped me make sense of a plot thread I'd lost. What else? Jean Arthur's Wilhelmina Clark is a funnier wisecracker than most of her more famous roles, and Ford's breezy direction keeps things moving seamlessly. I'm rather embarrassed to have dismissed him in my youthful brashness as something of a redneck that helmed a few classic westerns, and even minor masterpieces like this one make you realize that Ford may well be the greatest of all American masters.
Despite her playing a lead Arthur's Alice Sycamore in
You Can't Take It with You can't quite keep up with Wilhelmina Clark, and Capra's third Oscar winner for Best Director is no
It Happened One Night or even
Platinum Blonde, but I'm still giving it a thumbs-up for its hysterical sequence that begins with this typical evening at the eccentric Sycamore household and ends with them and the Kirbys getting arrested after their utter fiasco of a first meeting:
Too bad I can't seem to find a clip of the aftermath because Edward Arnold as the stodgy, ruthless banker Anthony P. Kirby - much more effective here than in his more serious roles in
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and
Meet John Doe - steals every scene in this movie. Suffice it to say this gem nearly rivals the Marx Brothers in its sheer anarchy, if without the latter's trenchant satire.
I should add that I still don't care much for the rest of the picture. Like most viewers I started off on the wrong foot with Capra's oeuvre - which is to say his later work, including the aforementioned Mr. Smith and John Doe and of course the Christmas chestnut
It's a Wonderful Life - and You Can't Take is more or less in the same populist mold. But it's not quite as preachy, and while you miss the almost delirious sense of desperation that informs Capra's best work that riotous set piece and a first-rate cast elevate it above the pleasant-diversion category.
And before I close let me give a shout-out to Jacques Tourneur, another old Hollywood auteur I've discovered on TCM. Here's a characteristically ambiguous appetizer from 1942, the moving 10-minute short
The Incredible Stranger which could be described as a chamber gothic with a quiet punch to the gut:
And his 1955 feature
Wichita is one of the very best westerns (no clip readily available, sorry). As with the rest of his crème de la crème you think he's toeing the line as a supposed genre director, but he keeps throwing curveballs at you. Several of his other genre classics including
Cat People and
The Leopard Man are available till 8/29, so check 'em out if/while you can.