Happy Furry Puppy Story Time with Norbizness

Still Waiting For the 10th Anniversary Release of "Bio-Dome"

Miroslav Machácek and Cestmír Randa in The Fifth Horseman is Fear.

We're going samurai movies and political thrillers this week in an attempt to revive the site's flagging ratings. I figure it's also time to see some films in the theaters, so I'll be trying to catch Children of Men later on today, despite the fact that it was snubbed for many Oscars in favor of Babel (it got three, albeit in major technical categories).

1. Yojimbo (Criterion #52, d. Akira Kurosawa, 1961): It's impossible to understate the influence of this film on both the East and the West: it ushered in a completely new type of samurai movie, focusing on the nearly superhuman ronin, which was imitated in scores of Japanese films to the present day. In addition, its plot and use of closeups was cribbed by Sergio Leone in his Man With No Name movies (although Leone went beyond it in his late 60s films to create his own personal style). To briefly recount, it involves the main character becoming involved in a draining fight between two 19th century merchants (silk and sake) who have enlisted gangs of samurai and early yakuza to wipe the other out. The main character (named "Sanjuro," although it's an alias) becomes disgusted with the way that the town has to live in fear of the gang warfare and plots innovative ways to wipe them both out by using the merchants' natural greed against them. Everything about the film is superlative: the completely authentic set and costumes, the mix of classic and modern music, the performances of even the smallest supporting actor, and the mix of two types of camera-work (conventional and telephoto). The commentator suggests that the movie is really a Marxist allegory for the rise of nearly untouchable and corrupt business leaders in the wake of the post-WWII occupation. And, for the fanpeople, there is a severed arm in the first 15 minutes of the film. Be sure to pick it up in your queue or your video store with...

2. Sanjuro [Tsubaki Sanjûrô] (Criterion #53, d. Akira Kurosawa, 1962): This is only loosely a sequel to Yojimbo, in that the main character remains, but is transported into an entirely different situation (intrigue involving upper-class political posturing in a more refined castle town) with no other overlapping supporting characters. In fact, many of the character actors Kurosawa used are playing entirely different roles, although their treachery and criminal behavior remains. The plot involves the itinerant Sanjuro falling in with a young, idealistic group of well-bred samurai to thwart a plot to pin corruption on their master, a chamberlain in the regional lord's court. Although there is still a great deal of violence, the film takes a turn in commenting on it through the wonderful character of the genteel chamberlain's wife, who provides insight into the protagonist ("a sword that glistens too brightly and is always unsheathed"). This humanist strain, which is always present in Kurosawa's films, reaches its most hopeful in Red Beard and its most despairing in Ran. The plot is a little more tightly constructed in this film, and many of the mythic flourishes are removed in favor of plots within plots. Although it's not as towering an achievement as Yojimbo, I actually found it a little more enjoyable. In addition, it contains one of the most shocking endings I've ever seen, and one that still retains it power 45 years later. It also has been refurbished with commentary and a 45-minute documentary on the making of the movie. As difficult as it is to believe, both of these films are comedies.

3. The Fifth Horseman is Fear [...A páty jezdec je Strach] (d. Zynek Brynych, 1964): This is a really startling picture from the Czech New Wave, ostensibly a story about the Nazi occupation of Prague but which is opaque enough to apply to any totalitarian system where people have to live in fear of helping others or being themselves. The main character is a middle-aged Jewish doctor who has been forced to give up his practice and work in a warehouse cataloging confiscated goods from other Jews (the great early sequence shows him walking through room after room of pianos, clocks, violins, etc.). The first half of the movie involves his decision to practice emergency medicine on a wounded resistance fighter who shows up in his apartment building, and then having to wander the streets of the city to find morphine for his patient. In many ways, his character reminds me of Gene Hackmann's Harry Caul from The Conversation, somebody who wishes to be left alone (he even plays a violin in his solitude, similar to Caul's saxophone), but is roused from his apathy. The second half of the movie becomes more of an ensemble piece, as each apartment in the building is revealed to have people who are individually scared, frightened, or remorseful, and who begin to turn on each other as the police investigate the whereabouts of the fugitive. This section of the film suffers a bit from overacting and aimlessness, but the resolution is truly thrilling thanks to great camera-work, dissonant music, and excellent use of light and shadow. The linked version of the DVD is a lo-budget affair but includes twenty minutes of history of the film; the subtitles are a bit spotty and not synchronized. Still, the print of the film is excellent and language isn't much of a barrier to its understanding.

4. The Parrallax View (d. Alan J. Paula, 1974): I've always enjoyed Pakula's films, including Klute and All The President's Men. This movie is kind of a precursor to the latter, merging a lot of strains of American conspiracy theory, investigative reporting, and a general sense of dread into a pretty passable thriller. Of course, it wears its influences on its sleeve: the entire construct is based on cynicism about the Warren Commission's report on the assassination of JFK; the final scene reminds one of The Manchurian Candidate, and there's a pseudo-brainwashing sequence that recalls A Clockwork Orange. What makes the film memorable, though, is its way of suggesting that the main character (a journalist turned potential assassin played by Warren Beatty) ultimately has no idea what's going on, and therefore the viewer doesn't either. It contains one of the most chilling broad-daylight scenes I've ever seen, as Beatty *minor spoiler* fights a corrupt sheriff on a river as a dam behind them releases. Unfortunately, the ideas in the movie are much stronger than the words conveying them, and the impressive visuals are a little too few and far between to fully compensate for the weaknesses in the script. Still well worth watching, even if a bit dated.

A few upcoming April 2007 releases include the influential half-drama, half-documentary Overlord, the film noir prison thriller Brute Force, and a film I meant to see in theaters when it was released in 1995, La Haine (Hate). Other announcements, recommendations, and reviews are welcome in the comments.

Posted by Norbizness at January 28, 2007 01:46 PM