Matty

At the time, especially after the extraordinary failure called Topaz, there were more frequent contrary responses, but Hitchcock’s return to England didn’t turn out well in my opinion. With a few shining exceptions, this is a very unimaginatively directed crime thriller that strives for the greatest possible seriousness and authenticity (the first murder takes too long). It works best during the intentionally comical scenes (“that looks like pig’s feet”). It’s a shame that Frenzy isn’t a comedy from start to finish. Personally, I had more of a problem with the performance of the actor playing the wrongly accused man, who inspired indifference because of his arrogance, which would have served its purpose if we didn’t know who the real killer was after fifteen minutes and a chilling uncertainty could thus pervade the whole film. 60%

The suffering of Catherine Hessling, part II. This time, Renoir has his wife almost raped, physically assaulted several times and robbed before resting in the arms of a noble prince (gladly cantering on a white horse). The realistic presentation of these events aggressively contrasts with the atmosphere of a light summer comedy with a wealth of gags, whose victims are – unsurprisingly in light of the director’s later work – well-to-do gentlemen. There is a one-off visit to an entirely different cinematic world in the form of a long dream sequence that stacks up surrealistic scenes using various techniques of the first avantgarde (slow motion, superimposition, optical deformation of the image). The filming in real conditions and the rejection of tinting thus seem rather like a financial necessity than evidence of filmmaking maturity. There is no sign of maturity in the acting of Hessling, who still uses theatrical gestures to express emotions (in contrast to the performances of the other actors). Like his more experienced colleagues, Renoir simply wanted to find out everything that could be done with the medium, thanks to which the film contains several impressive scenes, but it doesn’t hold together as a whole. 70%

Even in an ordinary screening, without high heels, rattles and rubber gloves, The Rocky Horror Picture Show is endlessly entertaining and, during the existential songs, it is a touching defence of eccentricity and a tribute to the sci-fi and horror B-movies of Val Lewton and William Castle. Thanks to the tastelessness, affectedness and consciousness of its own decadence, every gesture, every prop and every deviant costume screams “camp”. The film dares us to despise it and dance with it. Both surprisingly happen at the same time, inviting us to experience it again and again, just like repeatedly listening to the soundtrack (I’ve had “Touch-a, touch-a, touch-a, touch me” stuck in my head for a few weeks). 90%

Who knows what we would find if we looked for a woman behind everything? We will actually find one behind Jean Renoir’s debut. Because he didn’t manage to find an appropriate screenplay for his wife, Catherine Hessling, he wrote one himself and directed it in cooperation with Albert Dieudonné (who later starred in Gance’s Napoleon). The gloomy melodramatic plot is as banal as that in the films by Renoir’s contemporaries, but it places emphasis on the social dimension, thus revealing the director’s socialist views. Whereas the authentically dingy setting reminiscent of a German Kammerspiel, close-ups of eyes and the protagonist’s occasional merging with the mis-en-scéne hint at expressionism, it is clear from the scenes with heart-racing rapid montages that Renoir was also enchanted by the modernity of French impressionism. Despite the numerous recognisable influences, the film is somewhat monotonous and long passages flow without any excitement, the absence of which is not made up for even by the brilliantly built-up closing chase scene, which itself is nearly flawless in creating the impression of movement through rapid editing and alternating camera angles (here following a train, there in a car), though it is unsatisfying due to its sudden end, which raises the somewhat silly question “did they run out of film?” The use of juxtaposition during this sequence makes it clear that Catherine’s fear is crucial here. The film was constructed for her and she is its foundation. In the end, this wasn’t a “star vehicle” for Hessling, who had previously made a living by posing nude for Renoir’s father. It’s no wonder. The sadly imploring eyes, looking for compassion behind the camera, the childlike fragility slightly reminiscent of Mary Pickford – none of that, not even the theatrical make-up, can disguise the fact that this lady was not gifted with talent. The camera, together with the editing and sets, does the acting for her. Not one of those elements achieves the intensity and extravagance seen in the more famous French films of the 1920s (by Epstein, Gance and L’Herbier). The modest use of formalistic embellishments rather indicates the restrained style that Renoir later adopted and I consider a study of his work as a whole to be a good reason to watch Backbiters. 65%

Crippled animals, crippled souls. Guilt, punishment, responsibility. Nykvist goes into details, Bergman goes deeply into the dialogue. The proximity to the actors, their faces and feelings, evokes the impression of oppressive intimacy. The director closes us off with them in a single, austerely furnished room. Intruding on someone else’s innermost privacy is not pleasant, but you will want to remain inside instead of outside, where an animal killer and inclement weather rage. The island locations underscore the feeling of isolation, while it is the characters themselves who make life an obstacle course. Wherever they go, memories will follow them. Bergmen doesn’t torment only the viewer with the impossibility of escape, but also the actors, who are internally connected to their characters and forced to bear their sins. The interludes when the actors pretend that they are not acting are actually a warning from the filmmaker – doesn’t become too absorbed. That’s easier said than done. 80%

If Demy had only put as much care into the banal plot (the simple chapter titles top everything off) as he put into the colour coordination of the character’s costumes with the setting. Because there is no dancing and the singing is strange, the colours are also the most musical element in the film. Of course, there were even more harmful experiments in the French New Wave. 65%

We love snow … khaki coloured. An escapist film in which there is not a hint of realism (even a community theatre’s set designs are more convincing) and which uniquely connects a holiday of peace with adoration for war heroes. The choreography of the dance scenes and the work with colour are thrilling. It’s just a shame that these two elements take up a rather small part of this two-hour film, after the end of which I began to hate both Christmas and the army despite the filmmakers’ probable intentions. 65%

If only Hitchcock had been in a position towards the end of his life where he could have chosen his subjects freely, unrestricted by financial concerns, and could have enhanced his reputation in the field of political thrillers with, for example, an adaptation of a Frederick Forsyth novel. The plot of Topaz is needlessly overwrought, there is no logical justification for the length of many of the scenes, and the behaviour of the agents, who repeatedly put the lives of others in danger, borders on the ridiculous. The silliness stands out because the characters don’t matter. This probably had nothing to do with the director’s mischievous sense of humour (as in the case of the bizarre alternate ending with the duel), as he still has the other kind of humour, i.e. black, under control.  Other than that, however, the film lacks most of the essential ingredients: suspense, charismatic actors and scenes demonstrating Hitchcock’s mastery (at most, there are only masterful shots). In short, this is a weak film for Hitchcock. 55%

They met for one evening. He’s set to ship out to Vietnam. He has no idea what awaits him. We do, and we are aware of the value of each second that they share. Dogfight is not a spectacular drama and it’s definitely not a comedy. It’s just a wonderfully ordinary romance. River Phoenix came close to the never achieved peak of his pretty-boy acting. In the company of the girl, he’s not so tough, as he radiates shyness and inexperience. An amusingly awkward boy. A few wordless shots suffice in the ending and it’s clear that we are watching a different person. He inspires respect. He already knows. Two years later, Phoenix died from an overdose. 75%

The techniques of silent, avantgarde and music-video filmmaking in the service of an eclectic apocalyptic parable with bold satirical undertones. The film’s form was apparently shaped in a long brainstorming session attended by David Lynch, Fritz Lang, Derek Jarman, former members of Monty Python (living and dead) and filmmakers known especially to those viewers who like to dive to the depths of cinema (Martin Arnold, Stan Brakhage). It’s as dark as the thought of death for a moment and then immediately brightened with a joke for which the word “absurd” exists. Completely unpredictable throughout. There aren’t many utterly non-experimental films (this one is half-experimental) with the ability to surprise (truly a lot) and most of the them are probably made by people who have a vagina in formaldehyde on a shelf at home instead of old porcelain, but occasionally one emerges from the depths and crawls out in front of the disbelieving eyes of mainstream-oriented ignoramuses like me. Cinemax deserves thanks. 80%