French February Quick Picks and Pans

 

Port of Shadows (1938) Jean (Jean Gabin), an AWOL soldier, hitches a ride to the port town of Le Havre, with the intention of assuming a new identity and hopping on a cargo ship bound for Venezuela. In a short span of time, he meets new friends (including a dog who stays glued to his side) and a few enemies. Things become complicated when he encounters Nelly (Michèle Morgan), a young woman with a checkered past, and it’s love at first sight. Marcel Carné’s sublimely bittersweet film (based on a novel by Pierre Dumarchais) explores the ephemeral nature of joy, contrasted with the crushing pitfalls of life. Jean Gabin is superb in his compassionate portrayal of a tough guy with a soft spot for the downtrodden. Port of Shadows is an unforgettable film that’s alternately heartbreaking and life-affirming. 

Rating: ****½. Available on Blu-ray, DVD, Amazon Prime and Kanopy

Orpheus (aka: Orphée) (1950) Jean Cocteau’s modern interpretation of the Greek Orpheus myth stars Jean Marais as the title character, a beloved local celebrity (In this version, he’s a poet instead of a musician). He becomes so engrossed in his work that he scarcely notices his pregnant wife Eurydice (Marie Déa). When she suddenly dies, the remorseful protagonist must bargain with Death (María Casares, in a winning performance) and the underworld, to bring her back to the realm of the living. Unfortunately for Orpheus, the trade-off is that he can never look upon her face again. Cocteau’s film is endlessly innovative, working with what must have been a miniscule budget. It’s a novel spin on a classic tale, told with humor and aplomb.   

Rating: ****. Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Playtime (1967) Writer/director/star Jacques Tati takes audiences on another outing for his venerable, perpetually baffled character, Monsieur Hulot. It’s hard not to admire this wildly ambitious film (one of the most expensive French productions at the time), boasting elaborate sets and complex choreography of its many players. The film, set in contemporary Paris, features an ultra-modern office building that seemed to be designed with humans as an afterthought, a trade show full of useless inventions, and a new restaurant that’s falling apart at the seams. Tati’s intricate orchestration of the many characters, sight gags (which wouldn’t have been out of place in a Keaton or Chaplin film) and detailed set pieces is truly a sight to behold. Tati’s film left me awestruck by the accomplishment, but for all its cleverness, I felt distanced (which might have been the point) by the plotless story (taking place over the course of a day) and drawn-out scenes, bordering on tedium. Ultimately, I admired Playtime more than I enjoyed it. It’s a bold attempt in filmmaking, which deserves to be seen at least once, although loving it might be a stretch.

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Kanopy 

The Extraordinary Adventures of Adèle Blanc-Sec (2010) Writer/director Luc Besson’s fanciful fantasy/adventure film, set in 1911 and based on a series of comics by Jacques Tardi, is a briskly paced romp. Louise Bourgoin stars as the free-spirited title character, a novelist/adventurer-extraordinaire, seeking a cure for her twin sister’s ailment (also played by Bourgoin). Her perilous quest takes her from the pyramids of Cairo to the streets of Paris, dodging all manner of cutthroats and authorities along the way. Besson, who described Blanc-Sec as “basically the grandmother of Indiana Jones,” follows in the footsteps of Spielberg’s films, with a movie that’s assuredly light on substance, but loads of fun (Who doesn’t want to see mummies walking around Paris or a pterodactyl soaring over the city?). It’s too bad that (as of today), there’s no sequel planned, since it would have been the basis for a good series.  

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Tubi

The Swindle (aka: Rien Ne Va Plus) (1997) Isabelle Huppert and Michel Serrault star as Betty and Victor, a pair of small-time grifters. They make a living preying on unsuspecting rubes, moving from town to town in a motorhome and shifting identities. They find themselves over their heads when they acquire a briefcase with 5 million Swiss francs (roughly $5.6 million USD) from a naïve businessman (François Cluzet). Huppert and Serrault have good chemistry together, but considering the subject matter, writer/director Claude Chabrol’s film seems insubstantial. Except for one particularly nasty scene, The Swindle lacks bite, and the plot doesn’t have nearly enough twists and turns. Also, considering the events that precede it, the ending is a bit forced. It’s diverting enough, but it could have been so much better. 

Rating: ***. Available on DVD and Kanopy

The Shiver of the Vampires (aka: Le Frisson Des Vampires) (1971) Okay, I would probably be the first person to admit that I don’t “get” the appeal of Jean Rollin’s films, outside of the fact that he knows how to present appealing visuals. Newlywed couple Isa and Antoine (Sandra Julien and Jean-Marie Durand) plan to honeymoon at a castle owned by Isa’s cousins. Their enthusiasm is dampened, however, when villagers inform Isa that her cousins recently died. As we soon discover, they’re not quite as dead as we were led to believe. Jean Rollin’s moody, erotic vampire film is well shot, with a flair for artsy angles and a nice use of color. As a horror film, it lacks any moments of dread or suspense, the story meanders, and the characters are generally unlikeable (the cousins are obnoxious twits). On the other hand, if all you care about is watching pretty women alternating between diaphanous, pastel-colored nightgowns and varying stages of undress, then be my guest.

Rating: **½. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Kanopy 

Gandahar (aka: Light Years)

 

(1987) Directed by René Laloux; Written by René Laloux and Roland Topor; Based on the novel Les Hommes Machine Contre Gandhar, by Jean-Pierre Andrevon; Starring: Pierre-Marie Escourrou, Catherine Chevallier, Georges Wilson and Anny Duperey; Available on DVD (Region 2)

Rating: ****

“What do you know of time, of its continuity, its traps, its false perspectives, its apparent paradoxes, its relation to space?” – Métamorphe (Georges Wilson)

When animator René Laloux burst onto the scene with his pioneering animated science fiction film Fantastic Planet (aka: La Planète Sauvage), it should have been his ticket to creating more stunning works. Instead, his career could best be described as fits and starts, as he created only two other full-length movies, Les Maîtres du Temps (aka: Time Masters), and today’s film. Gandahar (the American version, Light Years, featured a screenplay by Isaac Asimov)* may not be a direct sequel to Fantastic Planet, but could easily reside in the same universe. Much like his earlier film, Laloux has populated his alien world with a diverse array of unusual creatures and odd landscapes, accompanied by a fittingly mind-bending story.

* Fun Fact: For Gandahar’s animation, Laloux utilized S.E.K. (Scientific Educational Korea) studios, located in Pyongyang, North Korea. Over the years, S.E.K. has been involved with numerous international productions, including several high-profile American animated TV shows and films.

The film is set on the utopian world of Gandahar, where the residents live a peaceful existence, free of war or other ills of society. Civilization falls into disarray after the residents of Gandahar suffer an attack from an unknown source. Sylvain, an inexperienced young soldier, is sent to investigate the disturbance, and in the course of his journey, encounters a formidable robot army. Although he becomes a prisoner of the robots, he manages to escape with a fellow Gandaharian, Airelle. They fall in love, but duty calls, as Sylvain learns his true destiny – in order to save the present, he must travel 1,000 years into the future.

In Sylvain’s travels, he encounters a race of outcasts known as the Deformed. According to their unique perception of time, woven into their language (instead of saying something “is,” it’s “was will be”), they discuss events in the past and future, rather than the present. When Sylvain asks their leader for clarification (“Past in future, and future in past?”), he replies, “We don’t understand it any better than you, but it has become our nature, and the past-future has become our way of speaking and believing.” While their concept of time may seem superficially alien, it’s relevant to many of us who fear living in the present. We often lament what has passed and spend an inordinate amount of thought, anticipating what may be. The Deformed, Sylvain’s presumed enemies, become his ally in the fight against the robot invaders.

It’s not too much of a stretch to speculate that Laloux, who grew up during the Nazi occupation of France in World War II, would likely incorporate anti-fascist themes into his work. The totalitarian robot regime, with its mindless battalions, pledge their unquestioning fealty to their leader, the giant brain/demigod Métamorphe (“The Great Procreator”). They wage war against the easy-going residents of Gandahar and their individuality, in favor of a society based on subservience. In the future Gandahar, humans are harnessed for their power and discarded into a heap after they’ve outlived their usefulness – a sobering parallel to the real-life horrors of the concentration camps.

Gandahar doesn’t fall into the trap of some science fiction films, with lengthy passages of expository dialogue that stall the plot. Instead, Laloux counts on the viewer to take in the sights and connect the dots. The human residents of Gandahar once originated from Earth, and countless ages later, still remember the stories and poems from that distant planet. They established a better life, but there’s a trade-off for their idyllic society. The Deformed were, in their words, “the victims of your research in the field of genetics.” Similar to Frankenstein’s creation, they were shunned by their creators and forced into exile. The film embraces the Frankenstein metaphor a step further with Gandahar’s enemy Métamorphe, an artificial consciousness that originated as a science experiment.

Compared to the more experimental look of Fantastic Planet (incorporating a distinctive cross-hatch art style, and employing a hybrid of cell animation with paper cutouts), Gandhar falls back on more conventional animation methods. There’s also some obvious cost cutting measures, with duplicated shots (depicting the robots marching). While Gandahar doesn’t break new ground, artistically, it more than compensates with its fanciful, immersive depictions of an alien world, and pastel-colored palette. Along with its eye-pleasing visuals, it presents a thought-provoking story that challenges viewers to reach their own conclusions. Unfortunately, it’s not particularly easy to come by the DVD of the French version (an excellent copy was released by Eureka in 2007), but it’s well worth seeking out. 

Source for this article:  René Laloux, The Man Who Made 'La Planète Sauvage' ('The Fantastic Planet'), by Philippe Moins, Animation World Network.

Delicatessen

(1991) Written and directed by Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro; Starring: Marie-Laure Dougnac, Dominique Pinon, Jean-Claude Dreyfus, Karin Viard, Ticky Holgado, Silvie Laguna and Rufus; Available on Blu-ray and DVD

Rating: ****

 “The story came about, as I said many times back then, because I did once live above a pork butcher’s and was awoken every day at 7:00 by the butcher’s cleaver. My fiancée, who wanted to move, would say, ‘He must be cutting up the seventh-floor tenants. Next week it’ll be the sixth. He’ll work his way down and we should move before it’s our turn.’ I thought that would be a good idea for a film in a confined space, as our stories were too expensive to produce…” – Jean-Pierre Jeunet (from DVD commentary)

What would the world be like after a cataclysmic event? Would governments and infrastructure crumble, with people lapsing into anarchy, or would we somehow shamble on, as if nothing ever changed? Delicatessen, the auspicious feature film debut of writing/directing duo Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro, leans toward the latter. The filmmakers arrived with a bang, establishing their signature combination of colorful characters, swooping visuals and whimsical situations, amidst a post-apocalyptic milieu.   

Delicatessen doesn’t waste time establishing how the world got into this sorry state. Judging from the murky, ochre-colored air and scarcity of food, it’s a safe bet that it was a perfect storm of environmental/economic events that brought humanity to the brink. Money, as well as food,* is scarce, leading to a reprisal of the barter system. When we’re introduced to Louison (Dominique Pinon), he’s forced to pay his taxi fare with his shoes.  Answering a want ad for a handyman (to replace the previous one, who vanished under mysterious circumstances), he arrives at a tenement house. He meets Clapet (Jean-Claude Dreyfus), king of his private fiefdom as butcher/landlord, determining who stays and who ends up on tomorrow’s dinner table. It’s only a matter of time before Louison befalls the same fate as his predecessor, but he finds a new ally from an unlikely place. Meanwhile, an underground (literally) resistance is brewing in the labyrinthine sewers beneath the city.

* Fun Fact #1: In his DVD commentary, Jeunet pointed out that most of the images that appear on the tenants’ TVs are food, something that would be in short supply.

The tenants consist of an odd, colorful assortment of individuals. Louison, an ex-circus performer, continues to practice his tricks. In a small workshop, two men manufacture little mooing and bleating cans that mimic farm animals (it’s never established whom these are intended for). Potin (Howard Vernon), an elderly man, lives in a damp, swamp-like room, filled to the brim with frogs and snails. Aurore Interligator (Silvie Laguna), hears voices that provoke her into increasingly elaborate suicide attempts. Underneath the streets, the Troglodists (including co-director Caro)* emerge at night to raid food and supplies.

* Fun Fact #2: The Troglodists’ underground lair was filmed, in part, in the (closed to the public) Saint-Fargeau reservoir in Paris, a vast underground waterway built in the 19^th century.

Clapet’s nearsighted daughter, Julie (Marie-Laure Dougnac), falls for the new lodger, although we discover (through a heated exchange with her father), it’s not the first time she’s been enamored of the handymen. This time is different, however, as she’s determined not to allow Louison to wind up as meat in her father’s shop. They simply click together, as illustrated in one charming scene, where Julie and Louison perform a duet on the cello and musical saw, respectively. Pinon’s (a favorite of Jeunet and Caro) distinctive facial features complement Dougnac’s expressive eyes, a fittingly eccentric pair in a strange world.

Jeunet and Caro’s stock in trade are the numerous sight gags, big and small which distinguish their movies from other filmmakers. Among their depictions of Rube Goldberg-style chain of events, there’s one to top them all (often emulated, but never improved upon). Arguably Delicatessen’s most memorable scene consisting of a series of meticulously edited sequences, depicts shots of the denizens engaged in various activities (painting, beating a rug, a cello playing, and a metronome ticking) in rhythm to the sounds of squeaky mattress springs. In another scene (which Caro emulated from a Laurel and Hardy film), a bathroom fills up with water from floor to ceiling (I suspect the sequence will also look familiar to those acquainted to a similar scene in Guillermo del Toro’s The Shape of Water).

 The film owes its unique look, thanks in no small part to cinematographer Darius Khondji (who also collaborated with Jeunet and Caro on The City of Lost Children). With his fly-on-the-wall perspectives, we are an active participant in the world of Delicatessen. We’re invited to take in the little details peppered throughout, especially in the opening credits sequence. The overall appearance is enhanced through a film process called ENR, which, according to Jeunet, “highlights contrasts and desaturates colors.” The end result is an emphasis on red and green, bathed in gold.

* Fun Fact #3: ENR stands for “Ernesto Novelli Rimo,” named after the color technician who developed the process for filmmaker Bernardo Bertolucci.

 

Delicatessen is a post-apocalyptic tale like no other, asking us not to bother speculating too much about the logic of the world that Jeunet and Caro built, but to accept the reality of the moment. It’s not about elaborate plots or exhausting action sequences. Instead, it’s a study of quirky individuals, stretched to the breaking point (and when the going gets tough, the tough get silly). Above all, Delicatessen reminds us that love endures, even amidst the bleakest of circumstances, and there’s always time for laughter and enjoyment. Even at its darkest, life is worth it for those fleeting moments of joy. If you’re looking for obsidian-dark humor with a whimsical touch, Delicatessen will most assuredly scratch that itch.

Japan-uary X Quick Picks and Pans

 

Ugetsu (aka: Ugetsu monogatari) (1953) Director Kenji Mizoguchi’s Feudal-era yurei (ghost) story resonates with the viewer long after it’s over. Genjurô (Masayuki Mori), a poor pottery maker dreams of making a fortune selling his wares in the big city. After evading roving samurai and thieves, he leaves his wife and young son behind, with his business partner in tow. Genjurô’s pottery catches the eye of a widowed noblewoman, Lady Wakasa (Machiko Kyô), and becomes smitten by her formidable charms. He soon finds a taste for his newly gained prosperity, but (as these stories often go) he learns that she may not be all she seems. Mizoguchi relies on the strength of its performances in place of special effects to convey this sad tale of greed, loyalty and loss.

Rating: ****. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Kanopy

 Tokyo Drifter (1966) Seijun Suzuki’s ultra-stylish crime drama is a bold exercise in transforming a familiar story into something brand new. “Phoenix Tetsu” Hondo (Tetsuya Watari) is a former Yakuza enforcer working for his old boss’ company. He gets in hot water when he foils the plans of rival boss Otsuka (Eimei Esumi) to sabotage his employer. Deciding enough’s enough, he sets out on his own, and now both sides want him dead. Hondo discovers an unlikely friend in former rival, Tatsuzo, The Viper (Tamio Kawaji). Tokyo Drifter continually surprises with its unconventional main character (How many times have you heard a protagonist sing his own theme song?), expressionistic flourishes, and eye for stunning visuals. And thanks to Criterion’s recent transfer, the colors simply pop.

Rating: ****. Available on Blu-ray and DVD 

Departures (2008) Daigo Kobayashi (Masahiro Motoki), a professional cellist, finds himself unemployed after his orchestra goes broke, and is forced to move home and find a new occupation. He answers an ad for a job opening, unaware that “departures” refers to preparing the dead for burial, rather than a travel agency. Kobayashi reluctantly accepts the position, at the urging of his new boss Ikuei Sasaki (Tsutomu Yamazaki), but struggles with self-doubt, public scorn and his wife Mika’s (Ryôko Hirosue) disapproval. Eventually, however, he begins to appreciate the work on its own terms, treating the deceased and their families with dignity. Yôjirô Takita’s thoughtful film (enhanced by Joe Hisaishi’s affecting music score) takes its time introducing us to an elaborate funeral ritual that seems to be largely unknown in Western culture. It’s not only a poignant commentary about how society keeps death at arm’s length, but also finding yourself and your calling.  

Rating: ****. Available on DVD and Tubi 

Black Test Car (1962) Yasuzô Masumura’s neo-noir plunges us into the high-risk world of industrial espionage between two competing car firms, Tiger Motors and Yamoto. Jirô Tamiya stars as up-and-coming executive Yutaka Asahina, who’s been tasked by his employer (Tiger) to spy on their competitor. Asahina and his team using any means necessary (including intimidation, blackmail, and sexual favors) to extract information about Yamoto’s new sports car design. In the process, he learns the true cost of climbing the corporate ladder. Black Test Car provides a scathing, deeply cynical glimpse into human nature, viewing business competition as a Darwinian struggle.  

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray and DVD

 

Vital (2004) Writer/director Shin'ya Tsukamoto’s (Tetsuo: The Iron Man) meditative film about the fickle properties of memory and mourning will likely haunt you for days. A young man awakens from a coma after suffering a fatal car crash that claimed the life of his girlfriend. Along with his recovery comes the renewed desire to attend medical school. In a cruel (or fortuitous, depending on your point of view) twist of fate, the cadaver on his dissecting table is his former girlfriend Ryôko (Nami Tsukamoto). What would have been the twist ending from a less skilled filmmaker becomes merely a beginning for Hiroshi’s self-discovery, as his memories gradually return. The unrelentingly morbid themes and convincing (but never exploitive) makeup effects make this a difficult but engrossing watch.

Rating: ***½. Available on Kanopy

The Vampire Doll (1970) A man (Atsuo Nakamura) returns from business abroad to discover that his girlfriend Yûko (Yukiko Kobayashi) has died. He soon discovers, however, that she might not be quite as dead as he’s been led to believe. After he goes missing, his sister Keiko and her boyfriend Hiroshi (Kayo Matsuo and Akira Nakao, respectively) investigate the strange goings on at Yûko’s secluded ancestral home. The first in a trilogy of vampire films from director Michio Yamamoto (followed by Lake of Dracula and Evil of Dracula), moves at a leisurely pace, but makes up for any deficits with a macabre, brooding tone and set designs that wouldn’t be out of place in a Hammer production.* While it may be the weakest of the trilogy, it’s well worth seeing for oodles of gothic atmosphere and some genuinely creepy moments.

* Fun Fact: A Toho/Hammer co-production, Nessie (about the elusive cryptid), was planned in the mid-70s, but sadly never reached fruition.

Rating: ***½. Available on Blu-ray and Amazon Prime 

Junkers Come Here (1995) This pleasant albeit slight anime film chronicles the adventures of 11-year-old Hiromi and her talking schnauzer Junkers. The film contains some charming scenes between the girl and her dog, while juggling some serious themes about absentee parents and divorce. The film never quite strikes the right balance between the more fantastical elements (Junkers grants Hiromi three wishes), and the reality of Hiromi’s life. Ultimately, Junkers Come Here glosses over the more unsavory aspects of Hiromi being stuck in a tug-of-war between her emotionally neglectful parents, leading to a (Spoiler Alert!) climactic sort-of reconciliation between the parents that rings hollow. It’s not quite at the level of Studio Ghibli story-wise or artistically, but it’s a pleasant enough film (if you don’t think too long about the implications of the trite ending) for most of its running time, and should at least spark some discussion from families that may watch this together.

Rating: ***. Available on DVD and Tubi

Kidan: Piece of Darkness (2016) Most anthology horror movies are a mixed bag, and this one is no exception. But even if not all 10 stories (confined to a brisk running time of 100 minutes) are winners, you don’t have to wait very long for the next segment to come along. Some favorite stories include: a shadowy visitor that terrifies a middle-aged woman; a schoolteacher who’s tormented by his former lover; and a young woman who inadvertently finds a novel way of getting rid of excess baggage. Although Kidan relies on some tired tropes (Creepy long-haired woman? Check.), there’s enough to recommend this for a few well-placed thrills.

Rating: ***. Available on Amazon Prime

Terra Formars (2016) Takashi Miike’s live-action adaptation of the popular manga/anime show is entertaining in spots, but mostly exhausting. In the year 2499, Mars has been terraformed, but the cockroaches that were brought from Earth have mutated and evolved into powerful (and deadly) humanoid creatures. A group of convicted criminals are sent to the red planet to rid the landscape of the creatures, opening the door for human colonization. The non-stop pace doesn’t leave time for strong characterizations or a lot of dialogue beyond the expository variety. While there are few surprises, one fun conceit is that each of the human crew has been modified with insect DNA (yep, one has inherited the properties of the Japanese Giant “Murder” hornet) to combat the bipedal bugs. There’s some good effects work, but the action is far too repetitive, and the film’s gaping plot holes are never addressed (i.e., If they were supposed to be expendable, why were they given the means to return to Earth?). It may be worth a look, if you’re in an undemanding mood.   

Rating: **½. Available on Blu-ray, DVD and Tubi

Nezulla: The Rat Monster (2002) In their efforts to create soldiers resistant to biochemical warfare, U.S. Army scientists accidentally unleash a hideous rat creature, along with a deadly virus. A crack team of “American” soldiers and one Japanese officer are sent in to destroy the monster and obtain a sample to create an antivirus. There’s a fine line between low budget and cheap, which this movie crosses. Most of the action is confined to an abandoned industrial building, and the barely mobile titular creature fails to evoke anything beyond sympathy for the poor schmoe who had to wear the costume. Skip it.

Rating: **. Available on DVD