Raise Ravens (Cria Cuervos) (1976)

Movies about childhood seen through the eyes of a child are some of the most difficult films to get right. This is mostly due to the struggle to find a convincing child actor. The Spanish director Carlos Saura had the advantage of seeing one such child actress perform in Victor Erice’s brilliant film, “The Spirit of the Beehive.”  Her name is Ana Torrent, and she is once again thoroughly convincing in Saura’s sad view of three girls who quickly become parentless during the final years of Franco’s fascist dictatorship in his poignant film, “Cria Cuervos.” 

Torrent portrays Ana, an 8-year-old girl who also has two sisters, Conchi (11 years old) and Maite (5 years old). Recently, their mother died in the house from cancer, and the movie’s present time is set in the year Saura made the film (1975). The story is set inside their large and gloomy house outside of Madrid and opens as Ana is awakened by the sounds of love made by her father and his married lover. It seems that Ana blames her mother’s death on her father’s infidelity, as she sneaks outside their bedroom door when suddenly the lover screams, rushes out of the door, and runs away from the house as Ana discovers her father’s dead body on the bed, apparently from a heart attack. From there, her mother’s unmarried sister Paulina (Monica Randall) takes over the house and the responsibility of the three girls. The movie will then follow how life and coming of age occur for Ana, while intertwining Ana’s dream visions of her mother and flashbacks of when her mother and father were alive with futuristic foreshadowing interpretations of Ana as an adult. Portraying Ana’s mother in a dual role with the foreshadowed future adult Ana is Saura’s lover and friend, Geraldine Chaplin. Since the mother is an Englishwoman living in Spain, Chaplin, who is English, uses her own voice as the mother but has her voice dubbed when portraying the adult Ana.

Since this is a movie told from the perspective of a small child, the fantasy elements with Ana’s dead mother fit elegantly within the story, as children are always daydreaming, and a child who lost a loving parent will tend to daydream that the parent is still with them. Especially during times of pain and trauma. The fantasy mother first appears right at the start of the movie when Ana is washing a half-drunk glass of milk that she removed from her now-dead father’s night table. While in the kitchen washing the glass, the mother appears as a loving and tender comfort to the little girl. At this point in the film, I did not realize that the mother was already dead and that Ana was being comforted by her imagination. The scene sets the tone of the entire film, and once I was informed that the opening scene had made Ana an orphan, everything else fell into place. 

Seeing a future Ana speaking about her childhood, as that is all the future Ana does in the movie, was also a clever way for Saura to interpret how this childhood effects and creates the adult. I felt pain in the face of the adult Ana while seeing how her childhood continued as an orphan. All of these separate elements between reality, fantasy, the past, present, and future are not presented in a linear fashion, giving the entire film a surrealistic and poetic feel. 

Symbolism is used throughout the movie, and Saura used various clever props to instill mystery. For example, the glass of milk is imagined in Ana’s mind as being poisoned by her, and the weapon used is the death of her father, for whom she blames her mother’s death in a way that only a child can assign blame. The poison, of course, is in her mind and is used in other clever ways of showing childish empathy in the wonderful child that is Ana. Living in the big house is Ana’s invalid grandmother, whom everyone looks at with annoyance and treats like another piece of furniture. Except Ana, of course, who will speak to her grandmother and ask her what she wants. When she asks the grandmother if she wants to die, the old lady nods yes, and Ana will give her a glass of milk containing her imagined poison. Other symbolic elements of the movie, such as the men being military men, being cold and selfish, and the prison-like feel of the great house, were elements that did not leave that much of an impression on me. I was more interested in the world of the little girl.

While Aunt Paulina is a sad and cold person, she is also shown as having a heart and seems to truly care about the children. I appreciated the way that she was not portrayed as a villain. Her becoming the guardian of three girls was not her doing, and Saura shows her difficulty. Also, as an unmarried woman, she is depicted as a woman who is set in her ways, which makes a lot of sense. Through the eyes of Ana, she is not her mother, and as such, she is resentful of the little girl. Showing her as a real person and not a villain helps to add depth to the story. 

“Cria Cuervos is a sad movie, although within its sadness there are many spurts of childhood joy. Most of the joyful scenes are combined with the playing of Ana’s favorite (or only) music record. Ana’s mother was once a very promising pianist before she got married, and music was dear to Ana. The record is the pop song from 1975, “Porque te vas,” which is a delightfully catchy tune that children love. Ana plays the song to cheer herself up and dances with her sisters to its chirpy tune in one delightful scene.

While many people see “Cria Cuervos” as a metaphor for the end of Franco’s Spain, it is the sadness of a wonderful little girl’s exposure to reality that took me in and swept me away. As a movie made through the eyes of a child and as an interpretation of a child’s resilience over tragedy, it is a movie of extraordinary grace and power.

Salo, or the 120 days of Sodom (Salo o le 120 giornate di Sodoma) (1975)

Pier Paolo Pasolini was one of the new Italian cinema’s more intellectual directors. He was a director who saw poetry in almost everything he did, and his acclaimed cinematic version of the New Testament (The Gospel according to St. Matthew) is probably the Catholic Church’s best-loved version of the good book. Just before his violent death, Pasolini completed his personal indictment against fascism and the dangers of the human condition. The completed film, Salo, has been described as the most obscene movie ever made and as unwatchable. While I do not agree with it being the most obscene film, I did find the movie barely watchable and was forced to turn my gaze from the screen on numerous occasions while watching it. 

The movie is set during the waning days of World War II in the town of Salo, which was the headquarters at the time for Mussolini’s puppet Italian Social Republic. Four powerful men, the Duke (Paulo Bonacelli), who represents royalty; the Bishop (Giorgio Cataldi), who represents the church; the magistrate (Umberto P. Quinatvalle), who represents law; and the President (Aldo Valletti), who represents the political leadership, hold hostage a group of young men and women for the express purpose of having complete and unhindered power over them. Throughout 120 days, these four men, along with four teenage boy guards called the collaborators, four young soldiers chosen for their enlarged penis size called blackshirts, and four middle-aged prostitutes who recall daily stories concerning the worst things that happened to them in their profession, will torture and assault the 18 victims up until a horrific ending that is too terrible to describe here. 

The number four plays an important part in the plot, as in addition to its separation of the different protagonists into groups of four, Pasolini also divides the movie into four segments that are apparently inspired by Dante’s “Devine Comedy.”  The first segment, called Anteinferno, has the 18 victims being gathered and taken into custody. The second segment, called “The Circle of Manias,”  concerns the sexual tortures inflicted on the victims, which are devised daily based on the stories told by the prostitutes. The third segment, “Circle of Shit,”  while continuing with the sexual torture, has added to the obscenities forced consumption of human feces.  The final segment, called the Circle of Blood, shows in horrific detail the final fate of all the surviving hostages. 

This is a movie that shows what human beings are capable of if given all-consuming power over another human being. Its horrendous and depressing message is, sadly, not far from the truth. Even today, there are over 100 hostages who are under the same terrifying control as their captors, similar to the hostages shown in this movie. The obscenities shown in the film include both heterosexual and homosexual rape, crucifixion, hanging, tearing of tongues, the forced consumption of glass and shit, as well as much more. 

Pasolini uses mostly non-actors to portray his victims, and their campy performances allowed me to keep a safe distance from the torture instilled in them. Otherwise, the movie would be even more unwatchable than it is. In addition, the actors playing the four main torturers bring a certain glee to their roles. Some scenes are so outlandish that they actually reminded me of a bad Monty Python sketch.  For example, there is a discussion between the four men when looking at the hostage boys lying naked, regarding which of them has the most perfect ass. If the previous scenes were not so vile, I may have found this an attempt at humor. It is not, however, as it is just another attempt by Pasolini to show the levels of human depravity and insensitivity given to those who have ultimate power over others. 

Pasolini was a very talented director, and his filming of the decorative villa where these obscenities take place has a classic painting feel to it.  This makes sense since many classic paintings from the Italian Renaissance were violent and depicted torture. He also depicts the final and most horrific of scenes through the perspective of binoculars from above, through the eyes of the four tyrants, which reminded me a little bit of Hitchcock’s “Rear Window. Only in style, and unfortunately, not in content. 

Personally, I do not understand the people who find this movie somehow enlightening or important. I do not need Pasolini to tell me that people, uninhibited by any moral code, can be monstrous to each other. Watching this movie, I believe, is akin to watching a snuff film or a geek show at a carnival. Those who search it out are not looking for a message they can identify with. For this reason, I believe that Pasolini failed in his attempt to say something about the human condition. I chose to believe that human beings can also be good, and this movie ignores that truism completely. “Salo” is not a movie that I would recommend anyone watch. 

Nashville (1975)

With his 1970 film, “M*A*S*H”, Robert Altman created the ensemble cast movie style in which an ensemble cast replace lead characters in movies.   In 1975, he went one step further by using the same premise to portray an epic mosaic of interrelated characters five days before a political rally in Nashville, Tennessee.     Since Nashville is the country music capital of the world, music, or more specifically, the country music industry becomes an important aspect to the themes of the movie.  Themes that portray the dark sides of American culture and politics, such as greed, ambition, politics and most particularly, celebrity.

Taking place in Nashville, a few days before a large political rally of a radical and surprisingly successful third party candidate for the US Presidency, the plot includes the actions of 24 main characters, ranging from famous singers, up-and-coming stars, a chauffeur driver, a political publicist, aspiring singers both talented and not talented, a British documentary filmmaker, a celebrity lawyer, a celebrity manager who is married to a celebrity, an elderly man dreading the death of his sick wife, a psychopath and many more.    The movie begins in a recording studio where a major and established star played by Henry Gibson is recording a new song and ends at a large political rally that features a concert with the same singer.   In between, all the characters intermingle and react to each other, as they all end up at the rally in the movie’s powerful ending.   

Every single one of the 24 performances is terrific and special mention needs to be made to a few.  Gibson who, before this film, was a minor comedian, swings between narcissism, cruelty and sympathy without missing a beat.   His character at the outset seems selfish and vindictive, but he succeeds in creating a character arc that allowed me to feel empathy for what it is like living within the established music industry, which is shown to be cutthroat and insensitive.   There is also nothing humorous about his character, making his performance that much more surprising.   Another even more established comedienne is Lily Tomlin, and she is terrific in an equally somber, unhumorous role as the gospel singer who is not only the mother of two deaf children, but also the husband of the uninterested celebrity lawyer (Ned Beaty).   Tomlin shows terrific range in the movie and has two of the most poignant scenes in the film.  One where she listens to a swimming pool story told in sign language by her son and another when she sits transfixed and sad in an audience watching the handsome and promiscuous up-and-coming folk singer (Keith Carradine) sing a song that she thinks is directed only at her (which it is not).   The first scene is one of the most heartfelt in the movie and the latter one of the saddest.    Tomlin’s character, while short on dialogue, is rich in expression, and she knocks it out of the park.    Also of note is the standout performance of Ronee Blakley as the most successful of the famous singers who has just recovered from a tragic accident and is neurotic.    I thought it was very clever for Altman and his screenwriters to make the most famous and successful character also the least stable.  There are many other well-thought-out characters that make this one of the most colorful of movies.   

Robert Altman was the most European of all the American directors who came of the new Hollywood from the 70s, and his movies remind me a lot of the French new wave.   This movie, especially, as, “Nashville”, is a character-driven rather than plot-driven film that uses its camera to follow not one particular person during each scene, but a group of characters that exist seemingly to create the reality that is the country music capital of the world.   This is the movie that finally took Altman’s famous use of overlapping dialogue to its highest level.   With so many different characters to be interested in, and only 2.5 hours to show, the vast depth of dialogue is essential here, and Altman hits his stride with his ability to allow his camera to follow the important pieces of what is being said.   This allowed me to be invested in each of the 24 main characters, which is an amazing feat.  The movie owes a great debt to the musicals of Jacques Demy with the way the camera follows a character and then abruptly takes its aim at another one going in a different direction.    The movie also has the heart of Truffaut with its ability to make me care about so many characters.    Truffaut’s, “Day for Night”, while much kinder than this film, immediately comes to mind while watching this movie.   There, as well as here, there were numerous characters within one framework who never behaved the best, while retaining their humanity, making me care about each of them or at least empathize with each of them.   

Altman has said that at least one hour of the movie’s 2.5 hour running time is made up of musical performances.   He also asked each of his singing actors to write and then perform their own original pieces.  It is hard for me to give an honest critical opinion on the music, since country and Western is probably one of the two musical styles that I dislike the most.   If there is only one song within the movie that truly stands out, that would be Keith Carradine’s “I’m Easy”, which won him a surprising Academy Award for best song.  That was something that the academy finally got right in that category.   The reason for this is that I believe a best song movie award should always be a song that helps to promote the narrative of the movie, which is exactly what Carradine’s song does.   While performing it he is singing about the unfaithful way that he conquers women, while in the audience there are four separate women that he took to his bed during the movie, and each one of them believes that he is singing to them.  Alongside the almost stargazing looks of those women while he sings, the words take on a whole different meaning.  The scene would be funny if it was not so sad.  

The first half of the movie, for me, was an interesting and enjoyable introduction to all its moving parts, but it is in the last hour that the movie really takes off.   Once I found myself surprisingly taken in by so many different characters, seeing them set themselves up for the epic ending was a pleasure to watch.    The movie ends with a prophetic and harsh societal criticism that I will not ruin for those few who have not watched the movie.  However, I will say that the ending includes one character of a married lady trying to escape her husband while pleading for someone to allow her to sing a song she had written, who finally gets to perform the song.  This scene is so powerful that it reminded me of Kubrick’s poignant ending to, “Paths of Glory” when the poor French girl sings a song of love that brings tears to a crowd of leering soldiers.  In, “Nashville”, this closing song evokes a similar feeling as it transfixes the world and stops a feeling of tragedy, if only for the moment that the song is in the air.   

As a vehicle for powerful ensemble acting, Altman’s, “Nashville” is second to none.   It is, however, even greater than that commendable feat.   This is a movie about American culture and it’s not a pretty sight.   Almost all the characters in the film use somebody else to that person’s detriment and for their own benefit.   They bring about behaviors that are driven by the need to be heard, whether through politics or entertainment.   Why do so many Americans want to be famous, and why are they seeking out such callous fake love?   That is the question asked by Altman in his movie.  This is a great director at his peak and “Nashville” is not only his masterpiece but one of the greatest movies ever made.  

Manila in the Claws of Light (Maynila, sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag) (1975)

For years, cinema has tried to depict the terrible social injustice of poverty, with numerous films seeking to portray the humanity of the poor in our society.   Many of these movies heroically try to bring into light empathy for the impoverished.   In the 1970’s the Philippines was a third world, corrupt country run by a cruel dictatorship.   In a country like that, not only does poverty run rampant, but its effects are more horrifying, as in these countries a person could easily die from starvation.        With his movie, “Manila in the Claws of Light”, Lino Brocka tackles this topic seen through the eyes of the personal tragedy of one young man.  

Julio Madiaga (Rafael Roco Jr in his film debut) is a young man living in a remote and quaint fishing village.   He grew up with Ligaya (Hilda Koronel), who became the love of his life.     One terrible day, an apparent social worker from Manila visits the village and convinces Ligaya’s mother that she should allow her daughter to be escorted to Manila where she will be given an education and a better life. When a year had gone by, it was already over 6 months since anyone heard from Ligaya. A worried Julio takes all his saved earnings to Manila in a desperate search for his lost love.   Once in Manila, he is robbed of all his money and is forced to work at a construction site.   The money he earns from the torturous work is barely enough for food.   When the construction job ends, he lowers himself further, working as a male prostitute in the thriving sex trade of the Manila gay community.    He eventually discovers that Ligaya was brought to Malina to be a prostitute herself, having ended up as an imprisoned and kept woman to a Chinese businessman who even fathers her a child.    Julio vows to save her.  

By basing his movie on an ill-fated romance in the vein of Romeo and Juliet, Brocka has developed a stirring story about the plight of the poor, easily expendable working class of Manila.   The Marco-led Philippines of the 1970s exploited the desperate poor working class labor force that thrived during a form of capitalism that completely ignored social issues, making the lives of the working class not much different from slavery.   If one did not make money, one died of starvation.  In addition, the authorities worked on a bribery system that left countless people disenfranchised without protection.   Julio’s construction team foreman keeps two thirds of the salary to himself and fires anyone who complains.    The work itself is not only backbreaking, but also unsafe and dangerous.    There is absolutely zero attention paid to safety, as in one unforgettable scene, an unusually positive co-worker of Julio falls to his death in a work accident.   He was in the middle of singing a song to raise everyone’s morale when the accident took place.  One of the many crushing blows on hope that will occur throughout the movie.

Brocka does not hold back in the desperate message of his story, as the movie gives a penetrating depiction of not only the abuse of low-class labor, but also the sex industry of Manila.   Sleeping on the city boardwalk, Julio is picked up by a friendly man who takes him back to a nice apartment and serves him a good meal.    While staying overnight with his newfound friend, Julio discovers what his new friend does for a living and is convinced to give it a try before realizing that the gay sex trade demands too much for even him.  

What I found interesting in the movie was how selflessness would shine within the poor people shown.   Julio always found someone who was willing to share some of the pittance that they had to help him survive.    There was always a male friend who helped Julio.  Whether at the construction site, the red-light district or in the final section of the movie, in Chinatown, where Julio finally finds Ligaya.    This humanity is tied to compassion and love, as many people he comes across become moved by his story of lost love and atonement.  He, in turn, is moved by the sad predicaments of his new friends, which quite often were even more tragic than his.  

One of the striking aspects of the movie is its almost picturesque depictions of the lower side of Manila.  There are the shanty town waterfront slums, the harsh, unforgiving construction site, the gay-district and a colorful Chinatown found in the more affluent areas of the city.   All are given a very stylized view within the sad story.  In addition, Julio tends to daydream about his former life in the fishing village and his idealized love for Ligaya.  These memories will come to him when he is at his lowest and give him strength to continue.   A strength that will eventually turn into deep anger.  Brocka never holds anything back as he is telling a story that can’t possibly have a happy end.    This is a serious film on a serious subject, and I found myself captivated by its different cruel world.  

“Manila in the Claws of Light” is a brilliant piece of filmmaking that brings to light the unbearable consequences of heartless policies towards those who have no voice.    It is a superb piece of cinema and one of the best portrayals of poverty coming from a country that is no stranger to human suffering.  

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975)

Milos Forman ran away from his home country, Czechoslovakia, after the Russian tanks put down the more liberal Czech government, and he was subsequently fired from the Czechoslovakia state-run movie studio.    His American movie that he most likely felt an affinity for was his cinematic interpretation of Ken Kesey’s brilliant exhibition of the totalitarian and Draconian way that mental institutes were run in the United States during the 60s.    Staying mostly true to the original source, Forman’s, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s nest”, leaves a strong message not only on mental health issues, but also on freedom of will.  

Sporting a fantastic cast, the movie tells the story of a convicted convict trying to fake insanity, so that he has an easier path to freedom.   The convict Patrick “RP” McMurphy (Jack Nickolson in his first Oscar winning role), as the only truly sane patient there, is also the only patient who is truly unpredictable.   He is charismatic, loud, opinionated and carries an intense need to be in control all the time.     He is what one would call a punk, and a punk in an insane asylum can have quite an effect on the asylum.   His nemesis is the seemingly mild, soft-spoken Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher in a terrifically understated performance).

The first two thirds of the movie are hilarious and entertaining as McMurphy wins the awe of his fellow inmates (or patients).  He converts their innocent card games into a game of Poker (for which he easily wins money from them), gets them to rise and demand change to their unending routine (they all suddenly want to watch the world series on TV), and does all this by basically listening to them and treating them like any another human being.    There is a large giant of a Native American that he converses and befriends, although he is told this man can’t hear or speak or understand.   Having been used to going through his rebellious life not adhering to authority, McMurphy finds that his attitude in the institute gives him the aura of being a leader.    This will grow into caring for the people that he is imprisoned with.    For the first time in his life, McMurphy realizes that he can become a leader and this newfound importance changes his attitude towards life.    This development causes great comedy and very endearing scenes that are a joy to watch.  One part of the movie that I have heard many people regard as unrealistic and unnecessary is when McMurphy escapes the hospital with all his new interned friends, not to escape, but to take them on a fishing trip on a stolen boat.   While I understand the way this plot element may seem disconnected to the main theme and story, I liked it and felt that it gave an understanding as to how McMurphy welcomed his newfound role of leadership.      

The last third of the movie is a much more serious depiction of the darker side of mental health care.  Even today, there is so much that our mental health doctors do not know and much of their treatment is based on experimentation.  In the 60’s it included lots of shock treatments and even soul-destroying lobotomies.    At the center of the movie is a battle of will between McMurphy and nurse Ratched.    She demands order and, while soft-spoken and gentle, will revert to viable threats, dishonesty, and a complete lack of empathy for her compulsion to retain that order.   During the first section of the movie, she is studying McMurphy, while building a deep hatred for him, and apparently vengeful action.  In the 2nd part, she exerts her power while he tries to exert his.     The thing is she has all the resources, and he only has himself.    It is not a very winnable situation for him, yet he tries to be defiant until the end.  

The performances in the movie are superb throughout.  It is not only Nickolson who shines as the over-the-top McMurphy, but his cast of patients in the hospital are each true to their characters.   I heard that the cast members were in an actual institute studying the various patients and that Forman gave each actor a patient to study for whom they would mimic for the film.    In watching each of these actors’ extravagant, quirky performances, I not only believed in the truism of the characters and their issues but was also struck as to how each one of them was so different from the other.    Whether it was the timid, sexually repressed Billy (Brad Dourif), the paranoid Mr. Harding (William Redfield), the bipolar Martini (Danny DeVito in his debut) or others, each character felt like a real-life victim of mental disorder.   In addition, their interaction with each other felt real and unforced.   These truly marvelous performances are one of the main treats to this movie.

As McMurphy, Nickolson put a stamp on the persona he had been building since Easy Rider.    In each subsequent role he was a loud, boisterous outsider.  In each of those roles he rebelled against the establishment.    In,” One flew over the Cuckoo’s nest”, his character places him in the one place most in need of a rebellion and Nickolson thrives in the role.    He knows that he is the most controlled person in the room and in knowing this he has fun working it.    It is one of those over-the-top performances that works.

The best performance out of so many good ones, in my opinion, must be that of Louise Fletcher, who also won a well-deserved Academy Award for the role of the evil Nurse Ratched.   The decision to play Ratched in a low-key, subdued manner was brilliant but required her to communicate her feelings in a silent manner.   As Ratched watches how McMurphy takes over her ward, I saw in her seemingly deadpan gaze her emotions varying from interest, to worry and eventually to hate.    It is a superb feat of acting that allowed subtlety to work in portraying evil intent.      Where I come from there is a saying that says, “still water digs deep inside”, when referring to eerily quiet people, and Nurse Ratched perfectly fits that interpretation.   The power of her performance has become legendary, and it is impossible to think of any other actress in the role.   Unfortunately, the precision of her acting caused her career to be pigeonholed into similar roles and her career never blossomed after this film.  

“One flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest” is an extremely entertaining and frequently funny movie, that contains a terrific ending that stresses its stirring drama and serious themes.   When the theme of the power that controlling elements have over the singular individual comes from a man who started his career working in an autocratic communist regime, it becomes a movie that serves as a warning against taking freedom for granted.    That is a great message, and this is a great and important movie.  

Dog Day Afternoon (1975)

Sidney Lumet’s, “Dog Day Afternoon”, opens with a montage of actual footage taken of a typical morning in Brooklyn, New York that is a pitch perfect introduction to a true-crime story that occurred only two years prior to when the movie was made.   It is not only a movie about a botched amateurish bank robbery attempt, but a modern-day parable on American society that is as topical today as it was in 1975.   Maybe even more today than it was when it first came out.

The movie is based on a real-life attempted robbery and hostage situation led by John Wojtowicz.   Due to a disagreement with Wojtowicz, the producers never received his approval and based their script on the Life magazine article, “The Boys in the Bank”.    For this reason, the names of all the living protagonists were changed.   In the role of the Wojtowicz-based character, Sonny Wortzik, Al Pacino gives one of his top five performances.    This is a movie filled with sad humor and the film’s introduction to our criminals starts it all off when one of Sonny’s two accomplices, Stevie, immediately gets cold feed and leaves the bank.  Before he leaves, Sonny asks him to give him their getaway car keys, to which he responds, “How am I gonna get home?  Sonny’s remaining accomplice, carrying a scary looking assault rifle, is Sal (John Cazale in a stunning performance), who just happens to be even more clueless than Sonny.  In fact, Sal does not really have a hold on reality.     

The robbery itself goes terribly wrong right from the start, as they rob the bank after most of the bank’s money has already been removed.     The last bit of utter stupidity done by Sonny is his burning of the bank ledgers, seemingly to destroy some sort of document that could be used as evidence on the bills that were being stolen. The smoke of this fire alerts the bank’s neighbors and the police, as very quickly the bank is surrounded by armed police and FBI personnel.    Sonny’s response to this is to hold the 9 employees’ hostage, demanding a helicopter to take him to a jet that will fly him to some other country.   He never really decides what country up until the film’s end, but Sal, who is less intelligent than Sonny, wants to go to the country of Wyoming.   The farcicality of this is beautifully offset by the seriousness of the crime (Sonny threatens to start throwing bodies out of the bank and onto the street).   

Another true real-life aspect to the movie is its portrayal of the media frenzy that ensues during the standoff.    The bank not only draws a large armed police force, but also countless bystanders and hordes of media.   The movie also places an interesting emphasis on the fickle nature of public opinion.  Something that resonates true today.   At first, as Sonny confronts the crowd with the iconic defiant screams of, “Attica Attica”, referring to the police killing of rioting prisoners at the Attica prison that happened the same year.  The crowd is supportive of the bank robbers, but once Sonny’s sexual orientation is revealed through the reason he is robbing the bank (he wants to pay for his boyfriend’s sex change operation), they turn against him, revealing their homophobic sensibilities, which was very prominent in the 70s.    The nice touch that Lumet adds to the film is that this original crowd will then get replaced by a larger more liberal crowd from the LGBT community that are supportive of the crime being committed.   Meanwhile, the TV and regular press have bombarded the bank with everything from telescopic cameras to helicopters.     Lumet, I believe, pays homage to Billy Wilder’s, “Ace in the Hole”, with his depiction of the circus atmosphere created by what should have been a tragic event.

The social messaging distinguished in the movie is aided immensely by the movies humanistic script, and the terrific performances by the entire cast.     Pacino shows in this film that he could play more than just Italian authoritarian characters.    His Sonny is scared, panicky, out of touch with reality and not very smart.  Yet he is full of empathy.    Empathy to not only his dumb-witted accomplice, but also to his hostages, the police, and even the crowd screaming outside.     Sonny talks to himself, makes rash decisions and bonds with his hostages.    On two occasions, two hostages who were given a choice of escaping chose to stay with him.    Here Lumet and his screenwriters gave us a hint about what Patty Hearst syndrome could look like.    This is one movie that really succeeds in pointing out how basic human compassion can overcome even the most extreme circumstances.      This is in large part due to Pacino’s naturalistic portrayal of Sonny. 

He is not the only one who shines in the movie.   In addition to all the actors portraying the hostages, Charles Durning is superb as the police chief, desperate to get through his day without any casualties.   As Sonny’s mentally ill boyfriend Leon, Chris Sarandon gives what I felt was a true performance that keeps his character’s dignity intact while displaying the angst and schizophrenia that is inherent in who Leon is.    The final telephone conversation between Leon and Sonny is one of the highlights of the movie and is poignant in its realistic touch.    Special mention must be made of the performance John Cazale gives as the mentally deficient Sal.   His lack of understanding of where he is, and his predicament makes him the only really dangerous person, yet I find myself caring about him.   Is it his fault that he was born with such a small IQ, and did that happen due to some physical altercation in his past?    These questions are never answered or asked, but Cazale’s portrayal begs a response.   While he is a character who I felt could crack violently at any moment, he also comes across as a scared little boy.    He probably has the IQ of a child, as that is the impression I had.    Cazale was a rare actor who could always disappear into his role.   

Based on a True Story, but without the cooperation of the main protagonist, Lumet and his screenwriters kept most of the events as they were but made some significant changes.     For one, Sonny is portrayed in the movie as a Vietnam War vet, while the real Wojtowicz was never in the army.   This was done to aid in giving empathy to his character.    In addition, the real SAL was only 18 years old, while Cazale’s Sal is in his 30s and mentally deficient.   What remains very true to what actually happened are the negotiations, crowd interactions and anything else Lumet could gather from the historical archives of the event.   The ending is also very much as it occurred.    

By filming realistically and using a free form tracking style for his shots within the bank, Lumet succeeds in creating the feel of what was happening during this small but fascinating event.   He also gets terrific performances from a wonderful cast.  “Dog Day Afternoon” is a courageous movie willing to make us like weak desperate characters and, by doing so the movie allows for an entertaining, insightful look at life.    The movie is not only a great social satire and docudrama, but also a great work of art, and one of Lumet’s best films.

The Wall (Deewaar) (1975)

It says quite a lot about Hindi cinema when one of it’s more iconic and acclaimed movies from its golden age is an unimaginative, poorly directed embarrassment.   Unfortunately, that is exactly what Yash Chopra’s 1975 crime film, “Deewaar”, is.   My guess is that Hindi Cinema is full of numerous films that are worse than this one, which is not saying very much about the industry.

In the 1970s, Hindi cinema developed from being primarily romantic musicals to having grittier crime-related urban themes.  “Deewaar” deals with an age-old story about two brothers who go in two completely different directions that lead to a major clash.    After the father of a trade union leader, Anand Verma (Satyen Kappu), is forced to comply with a corrupt business executive and turn against the people he represents, he is ostracized by everyone and chooses to run away and desert his family without giving them any means of making a living.   His eldest son, who is currently only a small boy, is branded by his neighbors with a sign proclaiming his father is a thief.   Verma’s wife (Nirupa Roy) takes her two small children away from the industrial town to the big city of Bombay or Mumbai of today.    There they sleep on the streets while both the mother and her eldest son work with the aim of retaining a hovel to live in and sending the youngest son to school.     The two sons, Vijay (Amitabh Bachchan) and Ravi (Shashi Kapoor) grow up with Ravi getting a degree and Vijay working, the docks as a porter.     Vijay will then work his way into leading a crime family of smugglers, while Vijay uses the education that Ravi helped pay for to get hired by the police force.      As a police officer, he is then assigned the job of putting away his gangster brother in a typical good brother against bad brother storyline.   After the great commercial success of this movie, the good brother vs bad brother plot would repeat itself in countless Hindi films.

This is a movie that is heralded for its historically influential attributes.    For example, the anti-hero (Vijay) uses Hong Kong martial arts skills in his climb to the top of the crime empire, which helped pave the way for Hindi martial arts movies going forward.   Not that anyone would confuse the unexciting amateurish fighting scenes in this movie with one of Bruce Lees’ fighting sequences.  In addition, the more realistic portrayals of violence in the movie were something previously not seen in Hindi Cinema and paved the way for more realistic cinema.    Another unique feature for Hindi films was the portrayal of Vijay by the excellent Indian actor Bachchan as somewhat sympathetic.  Previous to this film, there was a clear designation as to good and bad in Hindi films.   Here, while his actions are not moral in any sense, Vijay is driven to them by his need to care for his mother.    It is when his mother takes the side of his brother that his world starts to fall apart.

At the time this movie came out, musical interludes were important to Hindi films.    These are not stage presentations but rather fantastical scenes of incredulity whereby characters suddenly break out in a song and dance.   Chopra was smart enough to limit these musical interludes to only two characters.  That is the good brother Ravi and his fiancé.   For me, even in this limited fashion, the interruption of a crime drama with a corny love sonnet is absurd and completely misplaced.  Even for a Hindi movie.   In addition, all six of the songs are bland and unmemorable.

Out of all its shortcomings, the element of the movie that irked me the most was its simplistic narrative that left no place for law and order or any sort of strategic thinking.   What is considered a bold plan in this movie usually consists of something in the vein of, “you sign the paper, or I kill your family”, or, “take this password to the dock, and they will just hand over the goods to you”.    Sophistication is not a word I would use to describe the screenwriting of this movie.    This may be mostly due to the producers realizing that many third world viewers in other countries where Hindi films were popular are illiterate and need a simplistic plot to follow along.  

In addition, the direction style of Chopra with its quick close-ups and brutal point of view changes is quite jarring, making for a cheap-looking movie.     Luckily for him, he gets some good performances from his cast, and special mention needs to be made of the performance of Bachchan as Vijay.     Watching this performance, I got the feeling that Al Pacino watched it and used it for his performance in, “Scarface”. 

Even with the understanding that Hindi movies aim at a different type of audience, I still could not get through the simplistic story and shoddy direction of this apparently iconic film. “Deewaar”, which means the wall that separates the brothers, is not at the level of the best Hindi movies such as, “Mother India”, and for someone who is not a great fan of Hindi films, was a waste of almost three hours of my life. 

The Travelling Players (O Thiasos) (1975)

The beautiful country of Greece is known as a spectacular and exotic tourist location, and not everyone knows that it went through almost continuous war and political conflict between the years 1939 to 1952.    Of course, World War 2 was a major factor in this.   The great visual director Theodoros Angelopoulos in 1975 addressed this period of strife in his homeland by concentrating on a theatrical troupe traveling through Greece while the world was going crazy around them.  The movie he created was the epic motion picture, “The Travelling Players”.

A travelling theatrical troupe or players are touring their 19th century Greek classic play titled, “Golfo the Shepherdess”, and the movie opens with one of the many long, uninterrupted takes that Angelopoulos is renowned for.   The Troupe arrives in a Greek town and start walking down the street slowly while a car bellows election propaganda supporting the right wing general Papagos from the Greek legislative elections of 1952.   By the time the troupe complete their walk, they find themselves in the middle of the Nazi occupation of Greece sometime between the years 1941 – 1942.     Then, once they arrive, the Troupe leader, Agamemnon joins the military to fight the Italians, placing the period now in 1940.    In this initial set up to the movie, the more the troupe walked, the further they went back in time and, while very confusing for me initially, made more and more sense as the movie’s narrative expanded on the different time periods.    It is this complex time-sharing, slow-moving style that incorporates scenes that seamlessly transition from one period to the next, which worked to completely immerse me into the tone of the location and period depicted in the movie.

“The Travelling Players” is not your typical historical drama, and while its intersecting of time periods throughout its narrative is like Coppola’s “Godfather Part 2”, it’s methods and style are totally different.   Angelopoulos is one of cinema’s great visualists and his movie, at nearly 4 hours in length, is sparse in dialogue, preferring to choreograph long, elegant, encompassing shots that made me feel that I was experiencing what the characters were experiencing.  In addition, all his stunning shots are accompanied by the hypnotic music of the wonderful composer, Loukianos Kilaidonis.    Despite the movies’ long-running time, there are two occasions where Angelopoulos uses the breaking of the 4th wall as characters speak to the viewing audience directly, so as to give historical background information to the story.   I believe he wanted to waste as little screen time as possible in incorporating historical context to the movie, without the use of narration.   The style of the movie comes across as being very theatrical accompanied by visuals that are very cinematic.   The result is a pure original style that is breathtaking to behold.

The plot within itself is not static in any sense as the story, contains. Love, loyalty, betrayal, and tragedy.   These are themes that are in tune with the historical big picture of the Greek period being shown.    After taking its time to immerse its viewer in its location and characters, the movie dwells deeply into the way this all affected the lives of the people who lived through it.  Since a large part of the Greek history shown concerns a bloody civil war, Angelopoulos uses his characters to depict the betrayal and blood feuds that were prevalent in Greece at the time.   For example, Agamemnon is betrayed by his wife and her new lover (and new Troupe leader), while she in turn is betrayed by her children.    The theme of Nazi collaboration is also touched upon during the great famine that occurred in Greece during the occupation, showing this via the younger daughter who prostitutes herself for food.   Torture and rape are also depicted as part of the package that was life during the civil war.   In addition, foreign interference is also touched upon with the depiction of British and Americans forces who were worried that the communists would take over Greece.  There is a brilliant scene where the newly arrived American Forces meet up with the travelling troupe, who introduce them to Greek music and culture by way of a quick impromptu performance of their play, followed by a spontaneous burst of dancing.   

Visually, I was taken aback by this movie.  Other than at the film’s end, this is not a showcase of the sunny beach-laden Greek Islands.    Most of the film takes place in the mountains or rocky shores and during the autumn and winter seasons.   Yet it was clear to me as to how much Angelopoulos loves his country by the way his camera flows along the old buildings, rocky scenery and rugged but expansive land.  Flowing gently through the country with his strange but interesting characters, the movie is a visual feast.   Showing everything in the grayish tones of the colder seasons was a perfect complement to the themes of cruel conflict.  

It takes a special movie to reconstruct a period in our past with not only visual accuracy, but also a melancholy feeling.  Even though I never lived in Greece during the period shown, I felt I knew what it was like to live there through this fascinating time capsule of a film as it engulfed me in its aura.  That is the power of “The Travelling Players”, a timeless masterpiece that resonates with the power of a true artist.   

Jeanne Dielman, 23 Commerce Quay, 1080 Brussels (Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975)

Chantal Akerman’s, “Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles”, is considered by many as one of the greatest movies ever made.   When watching the movie, the worldwide acclaim weighed heavily on my mind.    By the end of the difficult 3 and half hours of viewing, I believe I understood what all the fuss was about.   Unfortunately, as hard as I tried, I did not find the film captivating or interesting enough to justify 3 and a half hours of my life.    So there, I can now be the brunt of the ridicule for many film snobs, just as I may have ridiculed other people for not truly appreciating highbrow movies that I love.    What goes around comes around, I guess.

Akerman’s film depicts three days in the life of one Jeanne Dielman (Delphine Seyrig), as she does typical routine chores, as well as working as a part-time prostitute who turns a trick once in each of those days.     She is a widow and has a 15-year-old son.   Due to her being a single parent with no family or social support, she turns to prostitution in order to make ends meet and has one client a day for this purpose.     The movie reflects on her and her life, which shows her to have serious OCD issues that eats at her psyche until she eventually goes over the edge at the end of the film.    

There are quite a lot of similarities between this movie and Polanski’s Repulsion.   In Akerman’s movie, however, there is no attempt at trying to hint at or explain why she is the way she is.  She is a serious, obsessive, compulsive, and clearly disturbed person.   It is quite amazing to see a movie about a person like this from the 70s as OCD was not a very well-known and accepted disorder at that time.    Akerman may have known a person like her title character in the movie and her portrayal of this condition is meticulous.     She herself was known to have suffered from depression, so I believe the cracked mind was an important theme for her.

In the movie, Jean Dielman does the same thing every day and mostly at the same time, except each day she either does it a little bit differently or we are given more detail about her actions.   I am not talking about anything very interesting, but rather mundane acts such as turning each light off like clockwork when leaving a room, polishing her sons’ shoes, and especially cooking a meal.     Yes, it is true that the precise way she goes about preparing what looks like quite appetizing meals foresaw the popularity of the reality cooking shows of today.  An interesting aspect of this are her actions as a prostitute.   On the first day, we see her client enter the bedroom and the door closes after she follows him inside.    Afterwords, she begins to finish the preparations of dinner for the arrival of her son.   The 2nd day, we still do not see what is happening in the bedroom, but we see her removing a blanket/sheet that she places over the bed for the act and her smoothing out of the bed so that it looks neat and unused.   On the last day, we see what is happening in the bedroom and this slow realization as to what she endures daily is a powerful setup to the movie’s conclusion.   

Another interesting viewpoint to Jeanne’s weak condition is when she needs to repair her son’s coat when she notices a button missing.  Instead of buying a bunch of buttons to replace all of them, she searches a number of stores anxiously looking for the exact same button to replace.     Here, as within the entire film, Akerman’s camera follows her relentlessly without any explanation or narration.   The whole movie is filmed like that, and I understand how many people may be impressed at a movie showing its audience the aspects of regular life that is never shown in a conventional film.   I still asked myself whether that was interesting enough to cover over three hours of viewing time.   

Jeanne’s son is one of the most annoying teenage characters I have ever seen.    He hardly every starts a conversation and when he does, it is about sex.    The fact that those conversations, slim as they are, occurred with his mother gives him a creepy perverted aura about him.   Most of the time, he does not even talk and, as Jeanne appears to not have any family or friends, he is the only real human companionship she has, further adding to her depressing, seemingly controlled life.   She behaves towards him more as if she is his servant or slave instead of as a mother.  Other than telling him not to read at the dinner table, she treats him like some master for whom she will polish his shoes, help him put his coat on, cook dinner for, set up the dinner table, as well as clearing the table at the end of the meal.  Love is lost within this cold family setting.     

If I was working for the Belgian tourist office, I would not want this film to be seen.  The Brussels I saw in this movie during the period Jeanne left her apartment to do errands, is gray, old and without any aesthetic beauty.    The buildings are mostly square unimaginative blocks and the people when they are seen outside seem to be all running away from any human contact.    The movie feels like an indictment on Belgium as a cold, heartless society.  

“Jean Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles”, is a three-and-a-half-hour film the takes its time showing the viewer regular mundane and boring acts of life that has as its protagonist a mentally disturbed woman who is controlled within herself, keeping all her emotions inside with an ending that shows the terrible consequences of this forced emotional reservation.    While I can understand the fascination with this difficult film, I still have a hard time getting over the fact of how boring the movie actually is.   

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)

In 1980, as a first-year college student in Toronto, I attended my first screening of the mother of all cult films, “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”.   It was, as is the case with all the screenings of this movie in the early 80s, a midnight showing.    Caught a bit unaware, I was not able to hear any of the dialogue throughout the movie as water, rice and toilet paper were being thrown at me.    Almost the entire audience danced to the terrific “Time Warp”, and people were shouting what appeared to be smart funny comments at the screen.  In addition, about half the audience (the movie theater was packed) were dressed up as characters in the movie.   Adding to my pleasure was the fact that I was quite high at the time.  It was not until I watched the movie on DVD a couple of years later that I understood the plot of the movie.  I much prefer my movie theater experience to the home video one as it is the interactive experience inherent in all viewings of this film that makes the movie special.  

“The Rocky Horror Picture show”, is the baby of Richard O’Brien, who wrote it as a stage play while being bored as an unemployed actor in London.   The play was a huge, surprising hit on both sides of the Atlantic, which gave him the green light in converting it to a movie.    O’Brien decided to use not only the same original stage director (Jim Sharman) to direct the movie version, but also most of the original theater cast were retained for the film.    He wrote the movie as a campy musical homage to those old B grade sci-fi and horror films he loved as a kid.  Since this was in the peak period of the great glitter period of the British music scene, his play was full of the sexual ambiguity that marked the period.

 On its initial release, the movie bombed badly, while having had the good fortune of existing during the period of the midnight movie boom, which was widely popular with the young counterculture generation at the time.    In addition, the sexual freedom theme of the movie attracted the LGBT crowd who were big fans of the midnight movie scene.    O’Brien not only wrote the screenplay, but he also wrote all the musical pieces and had a major role in the film.    It was at one of those midnight screenings that had large amounts of people return for repeated viewings.  During these viewings, people started to react verbally to the movie’s characters, eventually developing an interactive script that was more or less used throughout North American screenings and even some European ones.   Shadow casts were developed, resulting in actual performances occurring alongside the screening.    Watching “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”, was an event and party where like-minded people came to celebrate.   

As far as the plot goes, the story follows how the young conservative engaged couple Brad (Barry Bostwick) and Janet (the always delightful Susan Sarandon) have their car breakdown next to a castle, that they enter in search of a telephone.  In the castle there are strange-looking people dancing and celebrating.   The hunchback, Igor-like Rif Raf (O’Brien himself), lets them inside.  Once in the celebration starts with the terrific song, “The Time Warp”, which was a major hit at the time due to the film’s revival.  The master of the castle is Frank-N-Furter (A terrifically campy Tim Curry), and his introduction with a black leather S & M outfit and net stockings is one of Hollywood’s great intros.   He is a transvestite and his intro song and dance, “Sweet Transvestite”, is the best part of the movie.  Also, based on his name, one can assume that he is also interested in creating life from the dead, except this time his creation is a hunky blond male, who also catches the interest of Janet.     During the overnight stay at the castle, Frank-N-Furter opens the sexual awareness of the young couple.    There is a very good reason as to why this movie was celebrated by the LGBT community.     

The direction and choreography of the movie are not very special, and most of the acting is purposefully campy and exaggerated.  As is the dialogue.   The only two actors who really pull it off are Curry, who is fantastic, and Sarandon, who did not know how to give a bad performance throughout her long career (of which this film was the beginning).    

 What is truly special about the movie, however, other than some of the music, is the art direction, costumes, and makeup.    Sharman and O’Brien filmed the movie in London, using old Hammer horror castle props for their location shoot, and the campiness of those semi-serious films comes out in this movie.  In addition, the costumes, hairstyles and makeup, which were a combination of Glitter rock fashion, classic horror and 50s sci-fi, were so extreme and watchable that, in addition to being used by the shadow cast at the viewings, were a major influence on the punk rock scene and look that would explode in England a year after this movie came out.     If we believe that a great movie can influence modern style, then credit needs to be given to Rocky Horror, for its great influence on the lives of those who grew up in the late 70s and early 80s.     Colored hair and zany hairdos would never have happened if not for this movie. I am certain that Johnny Lyndon and Sid Vicious were fans of this movie.

Musically, “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”, starts off with a bang as its best songs happen at the start and end after the introduction of Frank-N-Furter.     When just watching this film as a movie, I truly enjoyed the campy humor alongside great songs.    In the second half, however, the songs start to fizzle, seem repetitive and similar to a Broadway musical.  Still, “Science Fiction Movie”, “Time Warp”, and “Sweet Transvestite” are not only great songs but sung to some nice set pieces that are a lot of fun.   

While “The Rock Horror Picture Show” is not really that great of a cinematic experience on its own, as it is filmed pretty much as a stage play, it is meant to be appreciated in a theater at midnight as part of an interactive experience and watching it that way is great fun akin to going to an amazing party.