Don't let the cats out

With his retrospective now over, the Pierre Clémenti adoration posts will probably be coming to a halt lest I somehow get my hands on his filmography (no small feat in the US). Or my rental of The Leopard shows up and I can talk about how odd it is seeing him blonde and clean-cut.

That being said, I wrangled up a few friends to come with me to Anthology's second showing of Belle de Jour. A few scrolls down tells you I've recently rented it, but again it was proven that DVD home viewings, regardless of how clear they are, can never live up to their theater counterparts. I'd completely overlooked just how good Catherine Deneuve and Michel Piccoli were in it. Most of its odd humor had been completely missed and seeing it at Anthology only reinforced how significant Clémenti is as Marcel. I might be biased or maybe it was because I knew what was coming, but when he first showed up onscreen, you could literally feel the movie completely shift. In my opinion, Belle de Jour is a nice little gem, but Marcel ends up pushing it into new territory due to Clémenti's energy.

It was nice to know that my friends enjoyed the movie. I made a Clémenti fan out of my best friend. Another friend preferred Jean Sorel and couldn't understand how my calling his character a Ken doll was an insult. My third friend compared Clémenti to André the Giant, physically. If you understand this, please comment.

Small note: The version screened had different subtitles than the DVD's. White, and not nearly as inclusive (though what's cut is primarily small talk), they were also italicized at times to distinguish reality from Séverine's dreams. Takes a bit of the fun out, no? Sometimes knowing French has its perks, I guess.

Let's end this with a little list of Clémenti movies I'm anxious to see and some clips:

Benjamin, Il Gattopardo (though his role is quite minor), Wheel of Ashes, Le lit de la vierge, Les Idoles. He was in much more, but these would be my first stops.




(don't even get me started on this movie)

Bonus: This is from Sweet Movie, which apparently tests the "eww" limits, but I'd be up for it. This is precious:



Up next, Bigger Than Life!

Good times on the reg

It's been a while, but the end of my current semester has been nothing short of a swamp. I don't know if it's because it's the first time since I was 16 that I've been unemployed, but these past few weeks have been excruciatingly long. Lots of paper writing and other academic distractions.

At the same time I've been able to squeeze in a few movies, so here comes a mega post.



Jeanne Dielman was incredible, to put it lightly. Coming from the iPod/Netflix generation where basically everything pushed on us is meant to reflect our supposedly non-existent attention span, Chantal Akerman's movie was a smack in the face. If fast-paced action films filled with explosions are at one end of the attention span-spectrum, 3 hours of a woman doing household chores with no music and practically no dialogue as at the far end of the other. While there is this slightly feminist aspect of the film, this revealing of how tedious and borderline imprisoning the life of a housewife can be, what I respected so much about Jeanne Dielman is how difficult it must've been to make. Cooking food, making coffee, making the bed, etc. seem like basic functions but because Akerman films each of them completely, the detail put into place must've been extreme. Just think of Delphine Seyrig, showing up to work and having to tenderize pieces of meat, but exactly as Akerman instructs her to, for hours a day. It's finely choreographed domesticity. And because the film is 3 hours long, who knows how much film was left to deal with before the editing process. Jeanne Dielman was an experience and nothing less. It tested my boundaries and proved that I could love something I was completely unaccustomed to. Brilliant.



As much as I love watching French films from the 60s and 70s, I'm pretty awful when it comes to its more contemporary cinema. Nevertheless, I had to watch Arnaud Desplechin's Rois et Reine for my cinema class and really enjoyed it. Mathieu Amalric, whom I'd never heard of prior to, is really fantastic, particularly at bringing humor into an otherwise dire film...sort of. It's difficult for me to pin a genre onto the film (drama, maybe) because of its nature. You never really know what's reality and what isn't, but in a very subtle manner. It's not the typical drama, by any means, and I really enjoyed myself. Desplechin is better known in the States (I think) for a more recent film, Un conte de Noël , which I've never seen, but is said to have some of the same characteristics. We'll put it on my checklist, considering Rois et Reine was so good.



With the Pierre Clémenti retrospective rapidly approaching, I've done more research on him, picking out which films I'm planning to become broke for during the week of the 11th, but also which films of his I should watch that aren't being screened. This somehow led me to Porcile, an odd little number by odd little director Pier Paolo Pasolini. It's a strange film, to say the least, the story concerning Jean-Pierre Léaud is easier to follow than the sparse story of Clémenti's cannibal, but as a fan of his, it's at least worth a peek for its visuals. It's beautifully shot, and Pasolini films Clémenti like a prince. The fact that he never rested on his good looks to accept typical film roles is one of the reasons I admire him so much, but they certainly don't hurt either. In the simple words of my professor, when Clémenti was brought up in class yesterday, "Il est beau, non ?"

Note: While I wasn't enraptured by Porcile, its transfer (Water Bearer Films?) is fucking atrocious. If you're looking to watch the film, try to track down one from another distributor.

But you're not a woman

I told myself that I was going to wait to see Belle de Jour until the Clémenti retrospective, but June feels really far away and I wanted to rent it pretty badly. I was slightly disappointed, but not too much.

Catherine Deneuve has never been one of my favorites. She was beautiful in her youth and is aging well, yes, but that doesn't mean I find her particularly interesting. I respect the humanitarian and feminist work she's done, but sometimes you love actors and actresses and sometimes you don't. I don't have anything against her, but I'm not fascinated by her either (okay, I love her in Les Parapluies de Cherbourg, but that's an exception). Here's a gratuitous Muppets shot:



All useless rambling aside, I found her pretty good in this. Belle de Jour is very tame by today's standards, but in 1967 the idea of a bored housewife with explicit masochistic sexual fantasies must've been groundbreaking. She's maybe 23/24 in this, so accepting the role was risky and I can respect her for that. There is this risk of the timid woman not happy with her sweet husband because he's not abusing her, but I think it's a stretch here. It definitely falls into the "bad boy" attraction crap, but Séverine knows when to draw the line with Marcel's obsessive behavior and I don't know many other movies of this era that deal with a woman's sexuality both so explicitly and with respect. You never get the idea that Buñuel is judging his protagonist for her preferences. Also Deneuve's Yves Saint-Laurent wardrobe is gorgeous.




Pierre Clémenti, on the other hand, is one of my all-time favorites. His role as Marcel gets a lot less screen time (maybe 30 minutes) than I'd thought, but he laps it up. You're drawn to Deneuve throughout the film, but whenever she's onscreen with Clémenti, he completely steals the scene from her. I think this is his best known performance and the last mainstream one for quite some time. His character is disgusting (and those TEETH), but he's really excellent and hammy in this. And what a sassy dresser! Oh and Michel Piccoli also is good as always.

The bored housewife theme is definitely nothing new, but this approach to it must've been back in the day. Buñuel's "surrealism" in this isn't nearly as interesting today as it was then. I've heard of people describing Belle de Jour as blurring the line between fiction and reality, but I found Séverine's fantasies to be quite distinctive from her everyday life. Also, judging from the US trailers (both the 1960s one and the re-release one) it was promoted as softcore porn here in the States, which is not only an insult to the movie, but complete bullshit. I didn't find Belle de Jour to be phenomenal, but it was enjoyable, with good performances, and it was far more than a skin flick.

In other news, I'm an hour into Jeanne Dielman and it is AMAZING. I'll be done with it this weekend and will write about it sometime next week, I'd imagine.

Puss Puss

Thanks to the calendar handout in French class this morning, I now know that Anthology Film Archives is having a Pierre Clémenti retrospective from June 11th to the 17th. A good opportunity to learn more about his work as well as a chance to catch Belle de Jour on the big screen. Unfortunately it won't make up for my missing the US premiere of Les Idoles a few years back.

Le temps détruit tout.

Ideally, I would've written about Irréversible immediately after watching it, when I was still completely rattled and thus in the perfect state of mind to do so.

I vaguely remember when it was released in New York, but more than anything I now think of it as a kind of "dare" movie, who can stomach it and who can't. Anyone who's heard of the film knows about the 9 minute rape scene, and most of them also know of the graphic skull bashing via fire extinguisher. Honestly, when this is where a film's notoriety stems from, it's not surprising if it develops such a reputation.

I definitely felt a similiar anxiety before watching it. Kind of nervous about the rape scene, but feeling like I was prepared, and if anything I'd be able to have a weird sense of pride after having sat through it. Plus, I'd liked Seul Contre Tous enough that I hoped the movie would offer more than shock value. I'd read up on Irreversible years ago, having never intended to watch it, so I felt like I knew what was coming.

I guess with a build-up like that it's not even worth mentioning how wrong I was. I was aware of (and intrigued by) the fact that Noé incorporated low-frequency sounds into the soundtrack for the first 20-30 minutes, barely audible, but capable of causing serious discomfort in people. Combined with the dizzying camerawork of the film's opening, I was caught off-guard by how nauseous I felt, very early on.

While I can defend the rape scene to no end, the claims of homophobia are more difficult to combat. The first major event of the film takes place in a gay S&M club named Rectum, and even though I still felt nauseous from the cinematography and the music, I definitely remember thinking "okay, this is a bit much" when it came to the seemingly endless shots of dudes in leather, sucking each other off, beating, masturbating, etc. There's a way to shoot this neutrally, but this wasn't it. There was definitely a sense of perversion and filth associated with it. Regardless of the fact that Noé threw in a cameo of himself as one of the guys jerking off, it still felt homophobic. The fact that Monica Bellucci's rapist is supposed to be gay definitely doesn't help.

I can barely comment on the fire extinguisher scene, because I knew when it was coming, and knowing how squeamish I am, I covered my eyes. What it didn't protect me from were the sound effects. The repeated clanking of the metal against this guy's head, the squishing mixed with the guy's progressively weakening cries made the scene feel like it was much longer than I'd expected. People who've actually watched it have spoken of its bizarre realism, despite being CGI. I'm not surprised.

The rape is a different story. By the time Bellucci started down the long red underground corridor and I knew what was coming, I was already in a completely different state of mind than I'd anticipated. Nauseous, almost exhausted, I was kind of terrified for it. A big critique of this single, 9 minute shot, is the question of whether or not it was gratuitous, some people even going so far as to say Noé was a sick bastard, appealing to the few who'd watch it and take some kind of pleasure in it, even questioning whether or not it promoted rape. This, I can't believe in any way, shape or form. The gut reaction, and the only appropriate response to the way this scene is done, is complete disgust. I'm not ashamed to say that I cried a little bit and saying I reacted this way strictly because I'm female is complete bullshit. My brain went through the rounds. "This is degrading/why is this so long/why am I watching this/why am I not covering my eyes now/what's wrong with me/this is awful, but necessary." Despite its length, absolutely nothing about it is glamorized. One mainstream review, though it praised the film, asked if 9 minutes was necessary. I might've agreed before seeing it, but afterwards, I can't. The bottom line, for me, is that this is the most effective depiction of rape in a fictional film that I've ever seen. It's repulsive because it needs to be. Any other treatment of it would be an insult to the depravity of rape itself.

One small detail that made me even more nauseated was the shadow of a bystander who appears in the background, sees what's happening, and promptly leaves without doing anything.

The rest of the film follows the events preceding the violence. It's a chance to recover after a truly brutal 30-40 minutes. Included is a kind of expected, lengthy "French" scene where the three protagonists are on the metro discussing sex and another where Cassel and Bellucci romp around naked. I just sounded a bit negative there, but while I was a little bored by the metro scene, the latter is very warm, if not sweet, and above all crucial in reinforcing how cruel the violence that precedes it is, explaining Cassel's reactions without defending them. I found the acting to be quite strong on all fronts.

I won't disclose the "surprise". I knew about it going into the film, and I wish I hadn't. Knowing about the violence still didn't prepare me for how painfully unpleasant this film would be, but knowing this "surprise" definitely weakened the effect of the ending.

True to form, the noise over the white screen at the very end made me squirm all over again. As a noted Daft Punk fangirl with just a bit (read: loads) of shame, I found Bangalter's soundtrack really fitting. It doesn't hold up as an album on its own, however.

Immediately afterwards, I had my cigarette and one of those rare, "what did I just sit through" moments. I was shaken. Without a doubt, Irreversible is the single most unpleasant cinematic experience I've ever had. Having said that, it was an experience entirely, where most films only seek to be. I was sucked in and affected, deeply. So, despite being an extremely cruel film, I can comfortably say that Irréversible was incredible. Just don't expect me to watch it again.

Small note: This is definitely not a film to see in parts. There are scenes online, but I guarantee that this is one that needs to be seen from start to finish to understand or even begin to argue against/for it. Watching it in pieces, I would definitely understand how someone could immediately be critical. If you have the guts to sit through it, and this is one film where I see no right to judge someone who doesn't, sit through all of it.

Adorable for adorable's sake

Ah, to look like this at my age.

Voilà , ma morale

I'm still unsure of how I really feel about this movie, but this might be one of my favorite openings ever.

Stop acting like Henry VIII

Back when I was in high school, I went to see some movie at Film Forum and saw the trailer for a restored print of Classe Tous Risques. I didn't get to see it then, but I finally rented it today and was fairly disappointed. It wasn't bad, a slightly above average gangster flick, but not much else.

Anyway, it prompted me to look into a movie I saw a poster for while I was in Paris. This one:



Jean-Paul Belmondo is up there in age now, so seeing him in an ad for a movie called A Man and His Dog was harmless, but kind of giggle-inducing.

The trailer only made things better. It's worth a view for the "chien" count, even if you don't understand anything else (plus, bamf Max von Sydow makes an appearance):



-My dog, where is he?
-MYYYYYYY DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOG
-What's your dog's name?
--My dog
-My dog, my dog, my dog
-We're going to find your dog

This is my father in 20 years.

I still like Belmondo a lot in the 60s stuff. Maybe he needs to call it a day.

MOOOOOON CHIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Alain Delon gets pelted with a then/now next.

Just because