A Tale of Seafaring Predators -- Jaws and Das Boot

Great white sharks and German U Boats during World War II. One is a menacing and deadly killer and the other is a menacing and deadly killer. What's your choice Hobson?

They are also both subjects of two fantastic films.

Jaws (1975) and the German made Das Boot (1981) are each as technically perfect as any movies ever made. Sound effects, cinematography, editing, score, all aspects of each film are flawless. I can only imagine that any detractors of either film are simply not enamored of their genres. For the rest of us its simply a matter of whether we like, really like, love or worship the films.

Jaws is best known for scaring the pants of people and dissuading some from swimming in the ocean (truth be told I was even leery of the nearby creek after seeing Jaws for the first time). "Scary" movies have gotten, and richly deserved, a bad rap in recent years because in most cases that's all that they're about. Moreover many of them tend more towards the gross and horrific, failing altogether to generate tension and often foregoing any attempt at creating a reality. Not Jaws.

The tension is palpable and full marks to the director the then youngster Steven Speilberg. In cinematic terms the great thing about a shark is that you can never be sure when its going to strike and it often does so seemingly from nowhere. They are fast critters that sometimes strike from below. Other times they let you know when you're about as their tell tale fins skim right along the surface. Spielberg took advantage of the stealth nature of the great white shark and waited until half way into the film before showing us the massive size of the beast, especially it's mouth and razor sharp teeth.

Hitchcock knew better than any film director that what you don't see is often the scariest. Spielberg introduced the concept to the briny. Having the camera occasionally watch scenes from the shark's perspective turned out to be a masterstroke.

Jaws benefitted from a strong cast. Everyone is familiar with Richard Dreyfuss, Roy Scheider and Robert Shaw and their inestimable contributions to the success of the movie. But I'd like to give a tip of the cap to Murray Hamilton as the town mayor. He played the everything's-going-to-be-all-right-let's-keep-the-beaches-open bonhomie as long as he could. When the consequences cost another life his reaction was priceless. Just as he did in The Graduate (1967), Hamilton made the very most of a small role.

Das Boot is a seemingly different film entirely set as it is aboard a German U-Boat during WWII. But it not only shares the same sort of technical perfection, it also is masterful at creating tension. The men aboard the sub are in the fascinating twin roles of being both the hunter and the hunted. Stealth and deadly from below, like the shark, they prey upon ships. They often striking quite suddenly and usually with devastating results for their quarry. But like our razor toothed friend in Jaws they can find themselves suddenly being chased and a successful attack on a submarine almost never means any survivors. unlike the shark, the men aboard the U-boat are quite aware of the dangers they face and spend many of their hours living in fear. It's no wonder that when we first meet the crew they are taking full advantage of shore leave and partying like there's no tomorrow -- for them there's every chance there won't be.

I've watched Das Boot (one of my favorite films of all time) many times and am increasingly struck by just how little "action" there is. Of course I'm referring to action in the sense of bombs exploding, shots being fired, and full bore chases. But this is quite appropriate, after all much of a soldier or sailor's war time experience is spent fighting, not the enemy, but boredom. Fortunately in Das Boot none of it is boring for audiences.

Even when not in battle ,life is interesting aboard a submarine, at least in the hands of a good director. Wolfgang Peterson "captained" this movie and its surprising how he has never done anything to compare. He captured the claustrophobic nature of submarine life and the fascinating stew that can emerge when dozens of humans are packed together in one. People who are alternately hungry for the enemy and desperately scared of him.

The crew of the sub form one of the better ensemble casts you'll ever see. Particularly in the person of the sub's captain played by Jurgen Prochnow. He is every bit the grizzled veteran and the firm but fair leader. He's not given to strong emotions and is frustrated by higher ups while devoted to his men.

Das Boot's best moments are when the sub is being stalked. The ping, ping, ping of the sonar is one of the most effective bits of sound effects in film. We feel the agony of the men as they wait for the possibility of death from above with depth charges exploding all around them. And oh by the way, these are Nazis we are fretting for. It's easily forgotten. Early in the film we meet an officer who is a staunch Nazi ideologue, one who is scoffed at for his rigidity, but for the most part we think of the sailors as just men and because we are following their story we may not exactly root for them but we certainly wish them no harm. All this is drummed home to us when the sub surfaces after sinking a ship and they watch in horror the fruits of their labors, English sailors jumping from their burning ship piteously crying for help. One of the U-boat officers weeps. Its an incredibly touching moment that reminds us a lot about the madness of war. So too does the ending of the film which gives us a textbook definition of ironic.

I recently watched Jaws and Das Boot on consecutive days so drawing the similarities I did was all the easier. The main thing they have in common is they do what we hope and expect from great art: they capture our imaginations.

Films Loved by Film Lovers -- Foreign Language Edition

In my previous post I took on the daunting task of naming films that I believe are particularly loved by film lovers. I simplified the task by naming one per decade and restricting myself to English language films.  Today I offer the sequel to my original post with foreign language offerings.

Before preceding I quote from from that first entry: In no instance am I suggesting that any one of these films is universally loved by every single movie aficionado, such a thing is impossible. And as will quickly become obvious, I have not picked any films lacking broad appeal. I merely mean to say that to the majority of those people to whom movies are more passion that diversion, these films are highly esteemed.

20s Nosferatu (1922). Eighty-eight years after it premiered Nosferatu remains a one of the best horror films ever made. As I said in a post from last Fall: Nosferatu is like a nightmare. Not a gross disgusting one that you want to run away from. No this is a bewitching, beguiling nightmare that despite the better angels of your nature you want to behold. More than that, you want to follow -- where will it take me? Surely this is ultimately harmless, it's only a dream (a movie). All those haunting images and that's not even including Count Orlock (Max Schreck).

30's Grand Illusion (1937). On the surface this is a World War I POW escape film but it is clearly so much more. French director Jean Renoir's masterpiece is also very much about classism, particularly the type that was dying in Europe. It is at once a subtle and clear film, acclaimed by many as a perfect movie. Jean Gabin and Erich von Stroheim lead a terrific cast.

40's Open City (1945). This film from Roberto Rossellini about the resistance movement in Rome during World War II was made just months after the events depicted. Add to this the use of non actors and the actual locations and you've got the greatest example of neorealism ever made. It is heartbreaking, compelling cinema that inspired a genre.

50's The Seventh Seal (1957). Like Grand Illusion, there are those who consider this a perfect film. It is considered by many to be Swedish director Ingmar Bergman's best, which is saying a lot in and of itself. In being so much about death it is really about living and the joys thereto. I expounded on the film recently in this post.

60's Closely Watched Trains (1966). War torn Czechoslovakia is not the ideal setting to "come of age" sexually but one often has to make do. From Czech director Jiri Menzel comes this story of a young train dispatcher who ends up combining sexual awakening with resisting the Nazis. It all comes together in one of the sweetest and saddest films ever made. It's one that could easily have lapsed into sentimentality but managed to avoid cliches and hit all its marks.

70's Aguirre the Wrath of God (1972). In the nearly four decades since completing Aguirre, director Wernor Herzog has continued churning out all manner of outstanding films including documentaries. However this still stands as the piece de resistance of his career. It is a trip. Both in the slang and traditional senses. The story of an ill fated conquistador's search for the mythic El Dorado in the Amazon jungle is a magically crafted elegy.

80's Ran (1985). Akira Kurosawa enjoyed wide appeal among critics and mass audiences alike. You'd be hard pressed to find a film lover who was not a fan of the Japanese director. Any number of his films could have made this list. Clocking in at nearly nearly three hours, Ran is grand, epic film making at its best. It is also one of the better cinematic versions of a Shakespearean play, based as it is on King Lear. Made when Kurosawa was 75 years old and after 45 years of making films, Ran proves the master's skills did not fade with age.

90's All About My Mother (1999). Many of Pedro Almodovar's most ardent fans have expressed varying degrees of disappointment with his latest directorial efforts. It is in good part because of films like All About My Mother which served to set the bar so very high. This is among the Spanish director's most revered films. At his best Almodovar is an excellent director of women and women's stories and this film, starring the wonderful Cecilia Roth, is an excellent example.

00's Barbarian Invasions (2003). The last days of a dying college professor are the subject of this intellectually stimulating French-Canadian film from director Denys Arcand. What could be morbid subject matter is instead engrossing as the soon-to-be-deceased is surrounded by close friends and family for some hearty laughs and provocative discussions. It's one of those films that introduces topics crucial to the very core of our existence.

Others: Le Samurai (1967), La Strada (1954), Port of Shadows (1938), Beauty and the Beast (1946), Y Tu Mama Tambien (2001), Celebration (1998), Metropolis (1927), Murmur of the Heart (1971), Mephisto (1981), Smiles of a Summer Night (1955).

"You Wouldn't Have Had Much Fun in Stalingrad, Would You?"

Today I watched a horrid movie from Germany called Mein Fuhrer (2007). It was a weak attempt at satirizing Hitler and his regime ala The Great Dictator (1940). It's tricky business lampooning something as awful and as awfully deadly as the Third Reich. The above clip starring the great Monty Python Comedy Troupe shows how it can be done.

A Woman in Berlin, Telling Another Truth of the Second World War

The American ethos about World War II is badly flawed. Most Yanks see the war as a victory of G.I. Joe over Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan. U.S. soldiers essentially being the cavalry that rode in and rescued England, France and China.

Not quite.

As much as it may pain us to admit it, the Soviet Union did far and away more fighting, dieing and winning than Americans ever conceived of. About half a million Americans died in the war, and that's a generous rounding off. Meanwhile 20 million Russians died. Linked to this is the myth that the Americans could have and should have "finished the job" by marching on to Moscow and putting the Commies and the Red Army in its place. In a pig's eye. The U.S. Army would have been crushed.

There are also myths surrounding resistance in occupied European countries. Fact is, there wasn't a lot of it, least of all in France. Vanquished citizenry pretty much took their licking. The Warsaw Uprising an obvious exception but an exception nonetheless.

The success of the D-Day invasion, so mythologized in this country, was certainly an important moment in the war but pales in comparison to Soviet victories at Stalingrad and Kursk.

Then there's bit of business with fire bombing German cities, notably Dresden. It ultimately did little to bring the war to an end but did a lot to incinerate Germans, women, children and the elderly largely among them.

The whole business of liberation has been misrepresented as well. Many allied troops acted more as occupiers than liberators though they did often take liberty with the locals and their goods.

None of this is meant to diminish the importance of the allied victory or the bravery and ingenuity of American and British troops. But it is always better to live in the real world than a mythic one.

One of those myths is of triumphant Red Army marching through Eastern Germany and valiantly taking Berlin, eventually linking with U.S. and British troops. Okay that's all technically true it just ignores the manner of their victory tour. The Russians raped and pillaged their way to and in Berlin. They were a marauding army of looters and indiscriminate killers committing mass rapes at virtually every turn.

The German film, Eine Frau in Berlin (In English: A Woman in Berlin), recently released on DVD in the States as a bit of corrective to this.

It is based on the anonymously written memoir of a woman who was in Berlin when the city fell in the Spring of 1945. Her book was published in the late 1950's and was blasted by Germans and Russians alike for its unflinching look at defiled German womanhood and depraved Soviet troops. The truth, as Al Gore put it, can be most inconvenient. The author (whose name has never been made public) pulled the book from the shelves with the proviso it not be re-released until after her death.

The heroine claims to be a journalist fluent or conversant in a number of languages (fortunately for her one of these is Russian) who has lived and worked abroad. She was also an unabashed Nazi. I found it refreshing that she felt no need to cover up her love for the Fuhrer and his cause, hopefully she came to see the horrible error of her ways in later years. She has a lover, Gerd, serving in the German army.

A Woman in Berlin is an unsparing look at the horrors visited upon all citizens of Berlin with the arrival of the Red Army. Women, of course suffered most of all. In the film we see one woman ask another simply "how many?" They both now the question refers to the number of rapes suffered.

Our anonymous woman decides that it is futile to fight the inevitable. Being young enough and attractive enough she can make a bargain with herself, her conscience, her soul. She cannot decide not to be used sexually but she can have a voice in dictating some terms. She decides to seek an officer. The experience will somehow be "cleaner" and she can make the relationship exclusive and have a protector in the bargain. It is an unimaginable choice for a woman to have to make. We often cannot control what happens to us in life, but we can control how we react to it. She's in control.

Meanwhile the film shows the rubble that was the physical Berlin and the further devastation to its people. The Red Army had been fighting for four years in some of the most horrific battles and conditions ever experienced. Many of them bore the stains of what the Germans had wrought in their own campaign through Mother Russia. One soldier in the film angrily recalls watching the children of his village violently murdered by Nazis.

There is no gussying up such a story. No gloss or sheen can make the Soviet taking of Berlin anything less than a look at the ugliest in human nature. But neither can such a story be bereft of any hope or humanity lest it be to repellent to occupy the narrative form. Endless bloodshed and sexual violation does not a story make.

A Woman in Berlin finds its beating heart mostly through the title character and the inner strength that radiates from within her. It is not merely self preservation either. Her glory comes from helping those around her. Acts of kindness both small and significant mark her as a special person.

Her relationship with a Soviet Major is fascinating. What have they found in one another? Solace? Love? Who is being protected? Through all manner of soul crushing depredation, people have found not just comfort, but spiritual nourishment in the arms of another. This is one example. It's not always easy to know what to make of the relationship between anonymous and her officer, but it is easy to imagine their lives without it.

The film is also peopled with memorable characters both German and Soviet who variably make us twinge or smile. There is a stone faced Mongolian soldier, a defiant and achingly young German soldier, a wizened German grandmother and a heart broken husband who cannot endure his wife's shame.

Nina Hoss stars as the woman and gives a remarkable performance. The director, Max Faberbock deserves kudos as well.

A Woman in Berlin is not a film you'd take someone to on your first date and I'd not recommend it for any wee ones in the house. But it is an important film for the manner in which it shines a light on one of the ugly realities of WWII that most people didn't even realize was right there under the rug where it had been swept so many years ago. And at last a look at how women suffered in the war and not just the dreaded news that a husband or son or father had died. World War II put everyone on the front lines in many places throughout the world. These were people without weapons, armed only with their wits. They fought too, never mind the odds they faced.

(As a bibliography for some of my assertions at the beginning of the post, I refer the reader to the following books: The War of the World by Niall Ferguson, No Simple Victory: World War II in Europe 1939-1945 by Norman Davies and The Bitter Road to Freedom: A New History of the Liberation of Europe by William I. Hitchcock.)

Nosferatu, A Symphony of Angles, Shapes, Shades and, Not Incidentally, Horror

It's all angles. Shapes. Shades. A camera that holds focus one beat longer than we expect.

Nosferatu (1922).

The director was F.W. Murnau. He was messing with people's minds.

Nosferatu is like a nightmare. Not a gross disgusting one that you want to run away from. No this is a bewitching, beguiling nightmare that despite the better angels of your nature you want to behold. More than that, you want to follow -- where will it take me? Surely this is ultimately harmless, it's only a dream (a movie). All those haunting images and that's not even including Count Orlock (Max Schreck).

Murnau was perhaps the leading practitioner of the expressionist school of film making that came out Germany in the 1920's (maybe it was Fritz Lang, I dunno). Give him the story of a vampire, indeed the vampire story, Dracula not at all thinly veiled, and well you're in for a spectacle.

The notion of the undead is frightening. A predatory killer is frightening. Innocents preyed on at night is frightening. You combine these three elements into a world that is itself a nightmare and you've got the full title of the movie -- Nosferatu, Symphony of Horror. One of the definitions for symphony is "something that in its harmonious complexity or variety suggests a symphonic composition." That's the film right there.

Imagine your worst nightmare come to life. Not the events so much as the look of it. All is abstraction and distortion. Nothing has more than two eyes, but the eyes are too long. Buildings do not float, or laugh or bleed, but they seem out of shape. There is gargoyle in everything but nothing being unreal, just distorted. Is a gargoyle so impossible a creature, or is just a little beyond what we know?

In Nosferatu so many objects seem to point to the heavens, they're so sharp. Like Orlock's incredible fingers, the masts of a ship and structures. The evil one's castle, at first view, looks like an erect phallus. Strong and angry and pointing.

Roads and alleys tilt, some seem endless like you could drown in them. All that sharpness yet the sense you could be swallowed up. Forest seemed menacing despite their beauty. Mountains are majestic, sure, but they are also foreboding. Windows are not ways to look out so much as ways to be seen, and view a nether world.

Young eyes might look at this relic of the silent era, their eyes washing out all the eccentricity of it. "That's not scary!" they'd exclaim. Obviously preferring a film that is the equivalent of someone sneaking up behind you and yelling "boo!" in your ear. Or perhaps a cinematic version of a steaming pile of feces being thrown at someone. "Yuck! Gross!" But if you let your imagination have any play within the world Murnau created, it'll scare the bejeezus out of you. And you know what else? The lack of voices just adds to the eeriness, making it all the more like a dream state.

Nosferatu is rightly famous for the curious Mr. Schreck's performance. He's meant to look like a rat, the notorious plague caring rodent part and parcel to the story and to many human fears. Herr Schreck lacks the sophistication of Bela Lugosi's Dracula. There isn't the intelligence that can make a predator all the scarier. But there is the inexorable malevolence of the creature totally without reason or the slightest chance of conscience. There is no negotiation with his Orlock, no nuance. Just like a rat he merely is.

The is he is is creepy. In a still photo he may appear silly. But when you watch him move, or worse, not move but watch, you'll shudder.

Nosferatu is a not your silly teenager vampire story of today. It's not about the teeth or bright red oozing blood. It's about creating a world that is your worst nightmare...but you can't look away.

How Much Do You Want for That Soul? Two Perspectives on a Timeless Classic

Part One: The Germans

There are two film versions of the sell-your-soul-to-the-devil story that I'm particularly fond of. Both have German roots. The more recent is Mephisto (1981) which was made in Germany by a joint German, Austrian, Hungarian company. I wrote about a few months ago and this sentence is linked to that post. The older version is The Devil and Daniel Webster (1941) made in these United States but by native German director William Dieterle. I wrote about the soul-seller in the film, Jabez Stone in February and this sentence is linked to that post.

Of course one of the origins of these stories is Goethe's Faust and yes Goethe was German. Other artistic renditions of the story have been created by Franz Liszt, Gustav Mahler, F.W. Murnau and Thomas Mann. The nationalities of these gents is Austrian, Hungarian, German and German, respectively.

Hmmm....

What makes German so intrigued by and adept at telling the story of man who will give his very soul for fame and riches? I could go all Hitler on you here but only one of these tellings (Mephisto) relates to Nazism. Also, only Mephisto and the '41 film came after Hitler assumed power.

More likely the story resonates with Germans because of its origins in their legends. Add to that the many superior German artists and you have a likely explanation.

Dieterle's telling is a wonderful combination of a powerful story made in a style of film making that came out of German studios in the Weimar days. Many of those film makers fled Germany when Hitler came to power and re-settled in the U.S. where they made invaluable contributions to Hollywood (among them Billy Wilder, Fritz Lang, and Ernest Lubitsch).

Dieterle, along with cinema photographer Joseph August, created a wonderfully atmospheric story that is an example of the black and white at its best. It owes much to the German expressionist films of those heady pre Hitler days. The use of light and shadow through such elements fire, clouds and moonlight are wonderfully evocative. Resulting special effects (sans computers, no less) coupled with a bravura performance by Walter Huston make this a great film.

Part Two: The USA Today

Raise your hand if you can think of a person in this country who recently realized untold riches only to end up in the gray bar motel because his gains were ill gotten? Who said Bernie Madoff? Well done. It's not as if Madoff was one-of-a-kind. He was just the most pernicious and greedy. There are many, many more and they have long held an unhealthy influence on American politics. Greed has been a dominant influence in our nation's history. And unlike Madoff most do not pay for their sins in this life.

Once Jabez Stone got his he turned his back on neighbors (not literally, of course, he had to have his hand out to them to take the cash they owed). Enough would never suffice. Jabez had to have more money. It's like the Americans today who whine incessantly about a three per cent increase in taxes. Freedom to some is the freedom to make as much money as they possible without the government getting their mitts on a penny of it. Jabez gave not to his fellows but wrung them for all they were worth and built himself an ostentatious mansion.

The Devil and Daniel Webster is like many films made in the FDR years. It celebrates the notion of community, people pulling together for the common good (socialists!!!). Government is represented as an often benevolent body that can be a force for good. Take Senator Daniel Webster who is celebrated by the struggling New Hampshire dirt farmers as a politician who looks out for their interests. These men do not look at government as evil. Nonsense. A government of, by and for the people is their friend. Hell, it's them.

No, people do not literally make deals with Satan (that we know of) but they might as well for all the parts of their souls that are lost in their pursuit of riches, fame and power. Rare is the person who realizes the rags to riches American dream without selling off bits of their integrity. In the bargain they lose what is one of the best in all people, the capacity to accept and love other people. More precisely, people who they cannot further profit from financially.

Jabez Stone has the good fortune of being represented by Daniel Webster. So eloquent a man that he can sway a jury of the damned. He not only saves Stone's soul but makes a Scroogeian transformation, joins the farmers' Grange vowing to work with not against his neighbors (socialist!!!).

Surely the U.S .would be better off today if some of our richest had to face eternal damnation before actually shuffling off this mortal coil. Maybe they too could realize the greedy errors of their ways and reform.

Hey, a fella can dream, can't he?

Of U-Boats, Avian Killers, Singing Convicts, A Randy Czarina, Steve Martin and My Valentine

I sent the staff of Riku Writes off on a well earned Caribbean cruise this week while I attended to other non blog matters. Hence the five day absence of this blog that many of you no doubt found excruciating. These past few days I've been binging on movies -- so what else is new, right? Let's get you caught up on what I've watched with a few impressions.

A Nous a Liberte (1931). If you guess from the title that this film is French you are correct and a master of the obvious. This was my first encounter with Rene Clair's film and it won't be my last. Based on a single viewing I can affirm that it is one of my favorite films of all time. This was released the same year as another Clair classic, Le Million. Has a director ever put out two such masterpieces in the same year? I think not. The film starts with prisoners singing about the joys of liberty. This is not, strictly speaking a musical, although occasionally the cast bursts into jaunty, buoyant songs. As with Le Million, the musical numbers never interrupt the flow of the story but enhance the story telling. One of the cons escapes and before you know it is a very wealthy man indeed. There are scenes of factory workers that call to mind Chaplin's Modern Times (1936); but A Nous a Liberte came first, a point not lost the film's producers who wanted to sue Chaplin. Clair would have none of it. A Nous a Liberte not only brought to mind Modern Times for me but another Chaplin great, City Lights (1931). I believe it was the wonderful meshing of styles, the strong characters, the humor and the pathos.

The Birds (1963). Talk about something completely different. I hadn't watched this straight through for as long as I can remember and I can remember pretty long. Giant crocodiles, flesh eating extra terrestrials, and rampaging dinosaurs can be pretty frightening to film audiences. But for real fear try something that actually exists. Like common ordinary birds. Ones with an attitude. The commonplace gone mad is truly terrifying. One does not encounter crocs, ETs or prehistoric beasts most days. But birds? Boy howdy. Everyday. Just after the first time I watched The Birds I was walking to school. I must have been about ten,eleven years old. A bird swooped down from a tree and flew very near by my head. I ran the rest of the way to the school at a speed I likely never matched, my heart pounding. I never, never, never walked under that tree again. Alfred Hitchcock directed and who else could have made the story quite so damn scary? The gorgeous Tippi Hedren starred along with Rod Taylor.

The Jerk (1979). Notice a pattern in these films? Neither do I. Carl Reiner directed, Steve Martin starred. This is one of the gall darn stupidest movies ever to be funny enough for repeat viewings. It includes one of my favorite all time movie lines: "I was born a poor black child." When the words are uttered by whiter than white Steve Martin and we then segue to his all black Mississippi family...Comic gold. The Jerk works (excuse the rhyme) in large part because Martin's character, Navin Johnson, is supposed to be really, really stupid. The movie makes no other pretenses other than to be a farce played for giggles. The absolute dead serious sincerity of much of the rest of the cast allows Martin's antics to work all the more. Bernadette Peters (same birthday as me, though several years before) is a darling as the love interest.

Das Boot (1981). Now are you detecting a pattern? Course not. Here we go again with the following phrase: "One of the great films of all time." It really is. There are three versions of Wolfgang Peterson's film. The minced, chopped and diced version initially shown in US theaters. Avoid at all costs. The full super epic length version initially shown on German telly. Worth at least one look. And the medium length -- if nearly three hours can be called medium -- director's cut that's the happy compromise and the most widely shown these days. I've meant to dedicate a full post to this film so will keep this short. Like any great film it gets better with each viewing and I find something else to admire about it with each viewing. If you've never seen it you're in for a treat. If you have seen it, watch it again, you're in for a real treat too.

The Scarlet Empress (1934). I think we can lay to rest once and for all any notion that there's a pattern in the most recent films I've seen. Consider that the next movie I watch will likely be The Gay Divorcee (1934) starring Fred and Ginger and you'll believe me when I say that I don't generally go in for theme weekends. Anyway, this was the first of the movies I got out of the house for. The missus and I saw it at the PFA as our Valentine's Day date (I know, pretty romantic, eh?). Another movie I'd never seen. This was one of the last collaborations between director Joseph von Sternberg and actress Marlene Dietrich. They made seven movies together and I defy anyone to find a better director/actress combo. As in their other pairings, in The Scarlett Empress, von Sternberg has the camera veritably make love to Dietrich. She's in most shots and the camera is forever holding on her face in light and shadow that highlight and indeed help create one of the greatest visages in film history. However this film is as much about elaborate sets and costumes as about Ms. Dietrich. The Scarlett Empress traces the rise of Catherine the Great from a German princess to the ruler of Russia. The movie slipped in just before the full enforcement of the production code eviscerated movies. Thus we get more than a hint of the sexuality that was central to the real life Catherine's story (the film is surprisingly accurate despite its excesses). The Scarlet Empress is at times silly, overly broad and as both the wife and Roger Ebert said, suggestive of a Marx Brothers film. All told it is rather peculiar film cluttered as it is with so much edifice but still a delight to watch. I'll sort it out after a second viewing. (Bizarre footnote: As we were getting up to leave a woman behind us commented to her spouse that there was quite the turnout. "yeah," he grumbled, "but not a very ethnically diverse one." Hmm, I guess the Pacific Film Archives needs to do a little outreach to people of color. I kept a straight face while I typed that line.

Meanwhile it is Valentine's Day. One of the downsides of being an internationally famous blogger is that women far and wide desire me. That in itself isn't so bad. But what is troubling it that some actually suppose to come between my beloved wife and I. Worse yet many of these young ladies are quite famous. One example is Anne Hathaway (pictured above) who can't seem to leave me alone. While I had to turn down Ms. Hathaway's request to be her Valentine I may feel compelled to accompany her to next week's Oscars, though that would not sit well with Penelope Cruz. Obviously my druthers are to stay home with the better half. Well, I shouldn't bore you with my problems. I'm happy and lucky to have a loving and understanding wife who I think I'll favor now with a kiss.....

What's It About?

The first question you get about a film from some people is: "what's it about?" As if the sum total of a movie can be delineated by some basic plot points.

Yet if you rave to someone about a song you're unlikely to be asked: "what are the words?"

Basic plot points are all well and good but often are totally insufficient in understanding a movie. Sure you can tell someone what Cabaret (1972) or Breathless (1960) are "about" but in doing so are you really giving them any sense of the artistry of either film?

In some cases "what a movie is about" is in my mind of secondary importance. Scorsese's Taxi Driver (1975) and Chaplin's City Lights (1931) to use to totally unrelated films as examples, are less about their central story lines and much more about mood, scenes and characters.

Movies are both visual and aural experiences and those aspects can seldom be expressed through plot points.

All this came to mind after I watched Wim Wenders' Wings of Desire (1987). I can tell you that it centers around two Berlin based angels and that one of them falls in love and wants to become human. I can add that Peter Falk appears as himself and that the angel's love interest is a trapeze artist. If you're unfamiliar with the movie you then might conclude that this is an awfully silly movie and that I must be joking when I say I love it.

Not silly and I'm not joking.

Der Himmel Uber Berlin, as it is known in Germany, stars Bruno Gansz. Meaning that Gansz has played both an angel and Adolph Hitler (in 2004's The Downfall). Just for variety's sake he was a waiter in the Italian film Bread & tulips (2000) and took on the role of Faust in a German TV epic. His long time friend Otto Sander co starred in Wings of Desire as the co angel.

Wings of Desire is a beautiful film to watch. It was strategically shot in black and white, except, again strategically, for a few scenes in color, by legendary French cinema-photographer Henri Alekan. The score is not beautiful to listen to but is haunting and absolutely appropriate.

Through the faces of the actors, the manner in which the film is shot and scored a mood is created that lasts from start to finish. Maybe that's part of the best answer to the question of what this movie is about. Mood. Thoughts (which we both hear literally and intuit subtly). Meditations on life, eternity, chance and love.

The movie also co stars the city of Berlin. Indeed Wenders’ original intent was to make a film celebrating his favorite german city. Actually he quite succeeded though most of us remember the movie more for its other gifts.

Wings of Desire was in many respects a terribly ambitious film to make. It could quite easily have become maudlin and self indulgent. Instead it won Wenders the best director award at Cannes and went on to be a critical and popular smash.

Surely its appeal is that it takes what is potentially a totally cerebral story and touches our emotions. We are allowed to luxuriate in the free flowing story, following the angels as they follow humans. I could add that it is a totally unpredictable movie but that would suggest that one could conceive to follow the story in a linear fashion.
Wings of Desire is not to be watched but to be experienced.

Don’t ask what its about, ask how it feels. (Quite good.)

A Guy Named Adolf

I'm reading a recent book by British economist Niall Ferguson called The War of the World: Twentieth Century Conflict and the Descent of the West. The title quite nicely summarizes the book. I'll merely add that if you've any inclination at all to read it, do so. Ferguson does an amazing job of covering the breadth of world conflict in the 1900's theorizing as to why it was so terribly violent a century.

I'm about half way through the tome. Yesterday I was reading a section on Adolf Hitler, who of course must figure prominently in such a book. Not for the first time I found myself wanting to go back in time and trying to reason with him (which always seems easier than in reality it would be). I also recalled Bruno Ganz's brilliant portrayal of Hitler in the German film,  The Downfall (2004).  The movie came under some criticism, particularly in Germany, at the time of its release for humanizing Hitler.

I couldn't disagree with those criticisms more.  I think its a terrible mistake NOT to remember that Hitler, and other tyrannical leaders like Stalin were (or as the case may be, are) indeed living breathing human beings.  To make monsters out of them is to play a children's game of pretend.  If they are simply the bogeyman, ogres, Frankensteins we need not deal with a) how they sprung from among more reasoned humans or;  b) how other people endorsed and abetted their efforts. It's not like Hitler could have done it all alone.  Hitler had henchmen.  Not just a small cadre in his inner circle either.  There were a lot of people running concentration camps, there were a lot of people in the Gestapo and there were a lot of people who let the horrors of Nazi Germany take place.  If Hitler is merely a monster, what of all those other horrid Nazis?  Did Hitler cast a spell? We do ourselves no favor by mythologizing our real life villains.

The Downfall was a brilliant interpretation of not only Hitler the man, but some of those close to him.  We see the likes of Goebbels who was culpable in Nazi atrocities and Hitler's secretary, Traudl Junge, a relative innocent whose recollections were the basis for the story.  Neither is a monster, but to varying degrees both are guilty parties.

Ganz played Hitler like a flesh and blood person, not like a cartoon character. Today I saw Heath Ledger's amazing performance as the Joker in The Dark Knight which should earn him a posthumous Oscar for best supporting actor. Ledger was playing a character.  Whatever else he did with the role (and trust me it was amazing) there was the make up and there was the context and we all know that no one like the Joker has ever walked our streets. But a Hitler has and likely will again appear.  The real monsters in our world are the serial killers, mass murderers and tyrants.  Serious films need to show them as people.  In comic  book movies you can do what you will as the villain.

One of the best film villains of all time was Anton Chigurh in No Country For Old Men (2007) played by Javier Bardem.  Chigurh was the personification of evil and somehow was at once all too human and seemingly super natural.  This is part of what made Chigurh so terrifying, he could be interpreted as in many different was.  As originally realized by author Cormac McCarthy in his novel upon which the film is faithfully based, Chigurh's origins (as with The Dark Knight's Joker) were unknown.  With no back story offered and a name and appearance that could evoke various interpretations, audiences were left to ponder whence this embodiment of evil came and what he might represent. Chigurh only seemed super human although his actions and talents bordered on other worldly, he was clearly from among us.  Hitler is a non fiction character with a documented back story and in a serious film needs to be seen as being from among the rest of us. That is precisely what makes him more chilling than the creature in Alien (1979).

On a not unrelated note, last night's Bill Moyers Journal on PBS, spent its first half hour focusing on the issue of U.S. condoned torture conducted these past few years.  Talk about monstrous behavior! As we have learned from congressional testimony and investigative reporters like Moyers' guest Jane Mayer author of the just-released, The Dark Side: The Inside story of the US War on Terror and How it Turned into a War on American Ideals. The fact of torture having been green lighted at the highest levels of our government, along with extraordinary rendition, is undeniable.  That people within our government can find justification for it is mind boggling.  The US has stooped to the level of the type of countries that were once its sworn enemies. Much of this disgrace allegedly stems from Vice President Dick Cheney.  It is often difficult to remember that he is human (I'll never forget his chilling response to an interviewer who pointed out that the vast majority of Americans opposed the continued US  involvement in Iraq:  "so," he replied contemptuously.  Yeah, what do you think this is a democracy or something?).  But Cheney came with Bush as dually elected leaders of the United States.  They need to be remembered as people no matter how little regard they've shown for our constitution or ordinary (i.e. non rich) Americans.  In our lampooning and demonizing of Bush, Cheney and company we on the left have found succor.  But just as with the more extreme cases like Hitler, it is incumbent to remember that these odious characters come, if not from the hoi polloi, by them. Their dark shapes are molded from the same genetic structures as ours.

Do I really have the audacity to suggest that Bush/Cheney can be compared to Hitler? Yes and I'm going further and saying we all bear a resemblance to the worst of us, just as we all are part of and resemble the very best we have to offer.