#241
Post
by therewillbeblus » Sun Jul 21, 2019 2:31 am
More revisits:
The Strange Love of Martha Ivers: This has always been a favorite off-beat noir that claws on the insides by showing characters spiritually rotting away with age, or else on the verge but not too far gone to be saved. There’s a lot to love here, because amidst the shadows cast over our characters from the disease of time lost are lovely moments, for each of these people are completely consumed with ‘longing’ that paints them all as multidimensional, not fully good or bad but at their cores lonely and scared people just wanting affection, love, and happiness, bearing their weaknesses just enough to feel real and let us in on their complexities. The mood shifts work because of the actors’ understanding of their characters, so when it seems drastic instead of rolling our eyes we know this is a defense mechanism, a part of this person emerging as a reaction to fear, rejection, and pain.
Adding Lizabeth Scott to the story was a risk, that seemingly adds little except for a few setpieces and a longer runtime (this is a long noir!) but her character is absolutely necessary because she represents the latter category I described above: the people who have made mistakes, and still make mistakes in the film out of fear, but are not beyond saving. Positioning her and Van Heflin (she on parole, he a gambler) against Douglas and Stanwyck drive home this theme and the other two reveal their broken pieces clearly when positioned next to those whose destinies have not yet reached a dead end. Yet nothing is more devastating than when Stanwyck, for all the harm she’s caused, confesses her misery and her desires safely, drawing more empathy than anyone else (except maybe Douglas, the other character with the most blood on his hands!) because who hasn’t experienced regret, rejection, feeling stuck and struggled to cope with its acceptance? Any film that can evoke this much empathy for the femme fatale and weakling alcoholic vs the two protagonists is doing something interesting, unique, and daring, and this film earns major points for fleshing out all it presents and embracing moral relativism to the point where the typically amoral characters are perhaps the ones for which we feel the most compassion.
Laura: A lot has already been said about this noir classic. Of course Preminger paints his canvas of a film with mastery over all elements, and it plays just as well as the first time, for even with the knowledge of the ending, there is supreme entertainment in the journey. I haven’t read the novel but this is one of those few ‘mystery’ films that feel like a book, with fleshed out characters acting, moving through spaces and delivering lines with enough ambivalence to make us think it could be any of them, regardless of physical evidence. This is the power of the screen. Preminger’s camera is always on point and while he reminds me of Hawks as having a kind of invisible style, few are such masters of camera movement, framing and capturing the most significant moments in the most perfect way imaginable.
The Spiral Staircase: This should be a double feature with Night of the Hunter for the early pre-Polanski masterworks of psychological horror. To me this is Siodmak’s best film, compulsively watchable, thrilling, and investing on a level of character, story, and plot. The photography and pacing is was really sets the bar though, as well as the inclusion of beautiful scenes (Helen looking at herself in the full body mirror, smiling and seeing herself in high esteem for what feels like the first time) juxtaposed with the horror of the killer’s eye watching her, then back to the beauty. This film feels like it wrote the book on the genre, and if it didn’t it certainly took that book and made it better.
Stray Dog: Arguably the best “buddy cop” movie, and understandably so since many have pointed to it as the initial entry into the subgenre, with plenty of noir and police-procedural elements overshadowing this categorical assignment. Mifune and Shimura have excellent chemistry, not just between one another but with all the other actors they encounter, with Shimura’s presence particularly striking in its reserved wisdom with doses of pathos against Mifune’s young, intense novice. What really sells this, though, is the engrossing story with plenty of exciting twists, turns, and setpieces, and Kurosawa’s use of mise-en-scène effectively transports the viewer into the story. The most consistent example of this is that, much like Do the Right Thing, we feel the strength of the heat wave as if side by side with the characters, watching them vigorously sweat, wave their fans, break down and lose tempers under the beating sun, as if we were right there with them.
The noir plot effectively provides many seedy hidden cultures of criminals, and watching our detectives move through them is exhilarating, with some minor characters exhibiting bizarre behavior that could be part of a horror film out of context (and within context, descending into unknown spaces and disrupting our sense of cultural competency is quite a scary experience even for our ‘heroic’ policemen). The high stakes are always felt throughout the narrative, and we find ease in reason to care about the mission and our protagonists. This isn’t a ‘good guys vs. bad guys’ story in celebrating the protectors of the state vs. its enemies for nationalist reasons, but one where Mifune makes a mistake by losing his gun (or allowing it to be taken), emasculating himself, and the rest of the film is spent trying to get it back and retrieve his manhood, the bolt holding all of his self-worth together, while unknown assailants use it to hurt or kill others. Despite the obviously Japanese-specific cultural norms emphasizing the effects of shame, losing face, the ease of losing one’s masculinity, and loyalty to one’s profession forged with identity, there are universal humanistic principles at play here that make the entire film relatable. The sense of ‘responsibility,’ significant for most viewers in both individually existential and social realms, is omnipresent, and we have as much stake in this mission as the police, suspended against the uncontrollable nature of time, and the unknown forces who may be using this weapon to bear more weight on our hero’s, and our collective, conscious. Kurosawa’s camera compulsively details suspects, increasing movement to focus on clues as the film continues, as if to match Mifune’s desperation, obsession, and skill, as he remains in the field and models his veteran partner’s habits while simultaneously exhausting his energy. In the end, we feel how tired everyone is, and as the showdown ends, laying in the grass, crying and screaming, that exasperation, the final depletion of all will power to hold onto social norms, masculine ideals, ideologies of purpose, mission, duty, is all expressed vividly in one of the most strikingly real depictions of ‘surrender’ on screen; humble, stripped, and beaten, even if arguably having ‘won’ in the aims of the mission.
While I consider myself a Kurosawa fan, my mileage varies considerably within his filmography, though this is close to the top, and while I prefer High and Low overall as a film, this utilizes the detective mystery design to concoct the more purely fun film of the two, and possibly within his entire canon.
I also revisited Ivan the Terrible, still find it impressive on many fronts and yet it doesn’t move me the way it does to many others here, which is a pity. Maybe one day I’ll see a restored print in a theatre and finally see what others do, but god knows I’ve rented this enough times from the library and come out cold to keep trying this way. Sadly, This Gun for Hire becomes less interesting on each viewing. What starts off as dirty, mean fun and effective use of form quickly deteriorates into serviceable blunder with forced development of Ladd’s sensitive side that goes against his established stone-faced-killer personality, delivering a backstory monologue and all. I’m still interested to revisit the other two Arrow Lake/Ladd noirs to see how they hold up, but there surely won’t be room for any of them in the final tally.
New:
Hangover Square: There’s a lot to like here, and you can’t get a more disillusioned anti-hero than someone who isn’t oriented to time, place, and person! Watching our protagonist struggle helplessly, perspective unhinged due to his amnesiac disorder, takes the noir trope and twists it, then keeps twisting disrupting any sense of groundedness in creating a character unpredictable on so many levels that he is even to himself. Brahm knows how to shoot a film, and while this isn’t as stylistically bold as The Locket, his talents don’t need to be flashy to be noticed. The performances and lighting are perfect blends of innocent and blown out bright to corrupted and shadowy, fluctuating accordingly to character mood and the levels of orientation to reality of our protagonist. Overall it’s lean and straightforward but leaves a curious vibe that tickles in places most noirs don’t, and I suppose this is why I like this film most of all, because it feels unique.
Ivy: Wood creates a beautifully looking and eerie visual palette of glamour in this period film that serves as an ironic background for the narcissistic aims of the character and seediness of the story. Fontaine sets her sights on status and fortune and men’s lives are trivial in their value unless they contribute to her vision. The beginning of the film is the best part, where Fontaine visits a fortune teller, her eyes lighting up as she hears only what she wants to hear and fails to give attention to the clear nervousness in the delivery, a warning sign of things to come. It’s fitting that we are introduced to this notion of fate at the start, for regardless of whether there is any intervention from a magical variable, Fontaine seals her fate with her attitude and narrow perspective. Even as the film begins to get stale towards the end, she remains committed to believing she did nothing wrong. The film accesses an original angle on the examination of the personality traits of the femme fatale. By making her the central character and capturing plenty of odd reactions to events, we get a thorough exploration of narcissism, solipsism, and histrionics at work. I wish the film lived up to that first scene, but the first half is quite great and the second isn’t bad, just not as interesting as it would be to keep Fontaine front and center to give this distinctive examination more room to breathe.