SCFZ

cherry 2000 (steve de jarnatt) darn. ultimately disappointing after the wonderfully frontloaded first 20min. once it shifts into mad max mode, it stays there. the delirious genre-jumping at the beginning all but disappears, and we're left with a low budget futuristic road movie. had a stuart gordon directed this, it woulda been classic. alas. melanie griffith is kinda sorta wasted, but when she is allowed to go full badass, it's certainly fun to see. the biggest problem is that de jarnatt couldn't direct a rousing action scene, even if you gave him a blueprint. and for a film that eventually ends up being built around big action set pieces, the seams really start to show. the ending is also a little unearned, which is a shame, cuz they could've achieved some real feels from this pulpy material, which coulda easily jacked this up an entire star. oh well. fun, but flimsy, and ultimately clunky

KUNDUN seen for the first time since the original release, and not for the first time I want to travel back in time and kick the ass of my younger self who saw something and didn't get it. Fascinating and troubling, it's more than a mere Love Letter to the Lama. Eerie resonances with GOODFELLAS have been coming to me all day -- the boy leaving one family for another entirely male-dominated world, learning the ropes of the new world, and then a climactic escape into exile/witness protection. "As long as I could remember my soul has been the incarnation of the Buddha of Compassion."

And come to think of it, that's pretty much the male main character's trajectory in DEPARTED, GANGS OF NEW YORK, WOLF OF WALL STREET....

Two wonderful recent viewings:


A Metamorfose dos Pássaros / The Metamorphosis of Birds (2020, Catarina Vasconcelos)



The Metamorphis of Birds weaves memories, stories, letters and images into a visually poetic family saga so colourful and alive it is impossible not to become entirely mesmerized. It is truly incredible how it creates such a powerful, dreamlike and hypnotizing fabric that carves out an almost unvisited area in cinema - a true borderland between documentary filmmaking and personal expression. 

It is not so much that it tests the limits of documentation and fiction/recreation - as it rarely attempts the latter. Stories are told or read from diaries, letters or the real people - even the director herself - and yet, what we are shown is first and foremost representation of what we are told - and as it creates a web of remembrances, echos, secrets, longing and connections - including a self-assessment it leaves us with more than the feeling of any kind of traditional essay. A unique, visually incredible slice of cinema unlike almost anything I have seen.


The Body Remembers When the World Broke Open (2019, Elle-Maija Tailfeathers, Kathleen Hepburn)



Stark, intimate and emotionally uneasy - The Body Remembers When the World Broke Open is a raw and believable take on the aftermath of domestic violence. What sets it apart from all other films tackling the subject, is that it genuinely places you in the immediate aftermath - and never lets you go - it plays out the entire set of emotions, thoughts and discussions - however muted, or unhealthy they may be - in one singular take.

We are given a short introduction, letting us get a slight sense of two women's lives - until one of them is standing there - bloody - in the rain - with no shoes on her feet - as her partner screams - far away - barely visible at the other side of a trafficked road - and this is where our two leads meet each other for the first time.

Inspired by a real event in co-director and co-lead Elle-Máijá Tailfeathers' life - the entire set of events feel real - almost too real - from beginning to one. We are on the street as they rush away, we are in the room as Áila tries to tell Rosie to call the police - and we get to experience incredible character dynamics. Áila, supportive, suggestive, cautious, unsure - Rosie, hurt, rude, crude - lashing out - giving abuse. You can feel the unease, not just of the violence, but the conversations, mistrust and choices made. It is excellent in that it manages to get you to relate and empathize with both leads - that seemingly come from such different worlds - and live such different lives. 

What is further impressive is the effect of the single take. While single takes generally aim to either impress with extravaganza, often done for the exercise in itself - The Body Remembers When the World Broke Open never calls attention to itself. It uses singular take to place you right there with our characters, allowing the experience to feel reel and that we are there with them. 

Side note: It is worth mentioning that The Body Remembers When the World Broke Open is an indigenous narrative - both our leads are indigenous women - their background is discussed and explored - and the funding comes, in part from indigenous foundations and organizations.

-

And one slightly more contentious:

-

The Painted Bird (2019, Václav Marhoul)



Shot with stunning black and white cinematography that brings back visions of the best of the Czechoslovakian epics of the 1960s - The Painted Bird is a visual revelation. The scope, composition and breath, is incredible. It has been consistently compared to Tarkovsky, and while it does not have the texture of a Tarkovsky film, I can see where the comparison is coming from. The films of Aleksey German is another instant comparison paint. 

This is a grim and brutal world brought to life with a large scope, perspective, detail, energy and "noise" - but not loud noises - rather visual noise - messiness - violence. The Painted Bird is actually shockingly quiet - with long sections without a word. The images move rhythmically together with a calm, violent silence that allows the images - and with it, the story - to wash over you. 

And yet, there are flaws - and it's greatest is that you, or at least I, felt that it took great glee in the misery it portrays. It left you always expecting the worst - and it feels so ready to deliver. This eagerness to be bleak - can feel forced. It feels a little like the flipside of Spielberg's sometimes grotesque sentimentality - where everything is perfectly set up so you see that one tear - and it feels so forced that you almost vomit - yet the technique is still beautiful and masterful. I don't think The Painted Bird goes as far - but it certainly goes far in setting up misery as beautifully as possible - and deliver it over and over again.

I do suppose misery has always felt more acceptable to me than sentimentality however - so I am not as bothered by it - especially when the film is as beautifully made as this - and with segments each with their own minor notes of humour, and clear stories - and often - surprisingly - with recognizable European and American faces, including Harvey Keitel and Stellan Skarsgård. 

I'm honestly not sure if I should recommend The Painted Bird - as it is so miserable - but it truly is a film that should be experienced.

St. Gloede wrote: ↑Tue Jan 26, 2021 9:15 am The Painted Bird (2019, Václav Marhoul)



Shot with stunning black and white cinematography that brings back visions of the best of the Czechoslovakian epics of the 1960s - The Painted Bird is a visual revelation. The scope, composition and breath, is incredible. It has been consistently compared to Tarkovsky, and while it does not have the texture of a Tarkovsky film, I can see where the comparison is coming from. The films of Aleksey German is another instant comparison paint. 

This is a grim and brutal world brought to life with a large scope, perspective, detail, energy and "noise" - but not loud noises - rather visual noise - messiness - violence. The Painted Bird is actually shockingly quiet - with long sections without a word. The images move rhythmically together with a calm, violent silence that allows the images - and with it, the story - to wash over you. 

And yet, there are flaws - and it's greatest is that you, or at least I, felt that it took great glee in the misery it portrays. It left you always expecting the worst - and it feels so ready to deliver. This eagerness to be bleak - can feel forced. It feels a little like the flipside of Spielberg's sometimes grotesque sentimentality - where everything is perfectly set up so you see that one tear - and it feels so forced that you almost vomit - yet the technique is still beautiful and masterful. I don't think The Painted Bird goes as far - but it certainly goes far in setting up misery as beautifully as possible - and deliver it over and over again.

I do suppose misery has always felt more acceptable to me than sentimentality however - so I am not as bothered by it - especially when the film is as beautifully made as this - and with segments each with their own minor notes of humour, and clear stories - and often - surprisingly - with recognizable European and American faces, including Harvey Keitel and Stellan Skarsgård. 

I'm honestly not sure if I should recommend The Painted Bird - as it is so miserable - but it truly is a film that should be experienced.

I had similar thoughts. It's one of the bleakest, darkest films I've ever watched, but some of the cinematography was incredible. Some of the episodes were brilliantly executed, others came off less well. There were a few instances, for example, that were just too unrelenting in their bleakness and violence, to the point that sometimes it felt a little absurd and humorous when I don't think that was the intent. At other times there was a deliberate yet subtle dark humour at play to some of the dialogue, and I think the film may have benefited from more of this to offset everything else.

For all its flaws, it was a very good film and for me, I put it up there with the best films of recent years. I feel though that it needs a second watch to fully appreciate it, but I am not sure when I'll be ready to put myself through it again.

Couldn't agree more and this seemingly unintentional humour is its greatness flaw - as you get frustrated rather than feeling the terror or melancholy at hand.

Take for instance the segment in question (screenshot above):

JULIET OF THE SPIRITS -- Fellini's picture of a woman's lot in 1960s Italy, and not a pretty picture. Some splendid scenes here, and some rather sadly dated material (sangria, anyone?) but overall I was taken with it, after not having seen it in many years. Poor old Juliet, she's just got nowhere to turn, has she?

And a note. I got the Criterion ESSENTIAL FELLINI box for Christmas, which well yeah of course I did, but the version of JULIET on the Blu-Ray in that box is, at 145 minutes, a full 8 minutes longer than the previous DVD put out by Criterion with its runtime of 137 minutes. There's one shot that stuck out to me last night, a shot of Juliet in her outlandish and garish white wedding dress looking desperately uncomfortable, it stopped me cold and spoke volumes about that marriage in particular and marriage in general, and it's just plain not there in the old DVD.

Just finished A Hidden Life and it is the best Malick for me since The Thin Red Line. This sort of film with morality at its heart wouldn't generally interest me, because nine times out of ten it will be spoiled by sentiment and romanticism, but Malick does a very good job of putting you in the character's shoes and pushing it further than right or wrong. It's pretty unrelenting in its ideas, and makes the viewer realise the full enormity of what might seem to them a basic moral decision, when it's anything but. If you don't like Malick you won't like this, it's very recognisably his signature, though I thought the scatterbrain editing of shots came out much better here and he didn't overdo the voice overs as much as he is sometimes prone to doing. If I had to criticise, I felt there was a little too much reliance on the musical score, which was unnecessary at times, and worked at others, and I felt the early scenes indulged a little too much in sentiment, with the family life shown as being too idyllic to seem believable, but it certainly redeemed itself by its end.

Edge of Alchemy (Stacey Steers, 2017) - Surreal animation in which Mary Pickford is Victor Frankenstein and Janet Gaynor is the monster. If this sounds appealing ya'll can watch it here:

https://vimeo.com/208736020

THE GODFATHER: CODA -- Coppola's been putting his house in order the last few years, revisiting and revising and restoring, and after a mostly successful salvage of COTTON CLUB, Coppola wields his scissors and does a sensible trim on GODFATHER III. Some problems can't be fixed, some unforgivably clunky lines of blatantly cheesy dialogue and the unfortunate miscast at film's center. But the story is clearer and cleaner and tighter, and some moments are mercifully gone hopefully for good -- one really unforgivable bit of egregious over-acting from Eli Wallach should have never seen the light of projectors in the first place. Pacino's performance is the main beneficiary here, though. Coppola's brought it more in line with the Michael of the first two films, there's less scenery-chewing.

A vast improvement.

If this sounds appealing ya'll can watch it here:

It did, and it was. Thanks for the heads up. I'm often game for viewing the short films posted here, and most of them I've enjoyed, so keep it up!

fort apache -- finally!~

beautiful film. planning my upcoming road trip to monument valley: a john ford pilgrimage

https://twitter.com/rbgscfz/status/1356 ... 06304?s=20

the duke is muy simpatico here. and pedro armendariz isn't cast as a mexican!

rischka wrote: ↑Tue Feb 02, 2021 10:14 pm beautiful film. planning my upcoming road trip to monument valley: a john ford pilgrimage

A dream cinephile road trip, that!

For S.Z. Sakall's birthday, a notable birthday that follows the day after John Ford's, I watched The Dolly Sisters a fabulousmagoria of Betty Grable in Orry-Kelly outfits doing extravagant musical numbers. A nice burst of sunshine in wintry doldrums, and a way to celebrate the birthday of my best friend S.Z. Sakall!

Cuddles is the best

rischka wrote: ↑Tue Feb 02, 2021 10:14 pm fort apache -- finally!~

beautiful film. planning my upcoming road trip to monument valley: a john ford pilgrimage

Ford is one of my favourite directors of all time, but I cannot understand the big fuss about Fort Apache and The Searchers. It's completely lost on me. Strange.


Liberte: Rewatch. Enjoyable, especially on blu-ray where the 'silver/grey' cast really highlights many key scenes. It's a bit of a prank really, at least on a certain level, but it's enjoyable and oddly humorous and one of the more interesting newer films around. 7.5/10.

Re: The Painted Bird. I'm curious, but it looks like it's trying a little too hard to align itself with the Eastern European classics of the past.

For S.Z. Sakall's birthday, a notable birthday that follows the day after John Ford's, I watched The Dolly Sisters a fabulousmagoria of Betty Grable in Orry-Kelly outfits doing extravagant musical numbers.

Oh my, someone else finally saw The Dolly Sisters! I have lots of thoughts on that odd movie, some of my favorite classic studio cinematography but the movie is completely perverse and often ridiculous, albeit in a pretty intriguing way if you can accept the all the references to incest, pedophilia, bestiality, and other twisted notions, including one of the most shocking blackface numbers I've seen, but all of it done with almost a delicacy to it and with a sort of equally bizarre subtext that is almost coherent enough to feel intended, while being so unlikely with those other elements to make that seem exceptionally implausible, but still kinda there. I have copious screencaps from the film but have yet to figure out how exactly to think about it. Like Wonderbar, the mix of intriguing elements is matched by so much that is deeply questionable, that it becomes a film I can't really let go of.

greg x wrote: ↑Wed Feb 03, 2021 10:10 am

For S.Z. Sakall's birthday, a notable birthday that follows the day after John Ford's, I watched The Dolly Sisters a fabulousmagoria of Betty Grable in Orry-Kelly outfits doing extravagant musical numbers.

Oh my, someone else finally saw The Dolly Sisters! I have lots of thoughts on that odd movie, some of my favorite classic studio cinematography but the movie is completely perverse and often ridiculous, albeit in a pretty intriguing way if you can accept the all the references to incest, pedophilia, bestiality, and other twisted notions, including one of the most shocking blackface numbers I've seen, but all of it done with almost a delicacy to it and with a sort of equally bizarre subtext that is almost coherent enough to feel intended, while being so unlikely with those other elements to make that seem exceptionally implausible, but still kinda there. I have copious screencaps from the film but have yet to figure out how exactly to think about it. Like Wonderbar, the mix of intriguing elements is matched by so much that is deeply questionable, that it becomes a film I can't really let go of.

Wow, I must say I missed all the references to incest et al. and other twisted notions! And can't say I see anything delicate or interesting in the blackface number either - purely to be skipped over. But yes, definitely an extremely odd and ridiculous movie with excellent photography. I took copious screenshots as well, especially during the incredible musical tribute to makeup!

More incestuous desire rather than anything suggested as acted upon really, but still...

Some films I watched over the last few days and ended up writing something about.

Zhuang si le yi zhi yang AKA Jinpa (2018, Pema Tseden)



At first glance, Jinpa is all about the "look". It is deliciously lit, with the frames emitting pure heat. There is limited dialogue, limited action - and a spiked haired protagonist who essentially never removes his sunglasses. The type of cool, no-nonsense look that would have fit in perfectly in a Takashi Miike film 20 years ago - but no, this is not that kind of a film. Jinpa is actually a slow, brooding, lyrical and - as it becomes clearer and clearer, philosophical film about choices, connections and thoughts - as paths emerge into one. 8/10


Lyrisch nitraat / Lyrical Nitrate (1991, Peter Delpeut)



This is a perfectly solid meditation of cinema by merging together elements of the remnants of a large library of nitrate film stock that has mostly been destroyed. However, to be honest I was a little underwhelmed here. Given the introduction stating how destroyed the negatives were, I was expecting to see new poetry and beauty created from this damage (there is an element of this towards the end) but the majority is using well-preserved stock - and playing many scenes out. 

I like the added meta context, in seeing star after star - as if they were all in the same film - and then title after title - all framed against footage of spectators in a cinema - before we venture out into the world. It was also nice to see how scenes from what is clearly average melodramas to be given added gravitas and stand out in their next context. A perfectly pleasant exercise. 6/10


Double Labyrinthe (1976, Maria Klonaris, Katerina Thomadaki)



Honestly, this film did not speak to me much - though certain visuals are intriguing. We mainly look at blood, nude bodies and blood dripping from or on nude bodies - with the interjected meet, skull, stabbing, etc. There is no sound, and the experience feel campy, but not campy enough to be genuinely amusing/absorbing. 4/10


Le sang (1971, Jean-Daniel Pollett)



Avant-garde theatre is its most bizarre form - we see people walking, running, fighting, murdering along a seemingly endless path - without any direction in sight. Shouting, screeching, grunting - taking up most interaction - with the occasional lines of dialogue that usually feel more like live poetry. Brutal, frantic and "free" this almost religious gathering, filled with iconography, starts and ends with blood - and a wheel that may or may not keep turning.

In some ways, it is a hard film to watch, especially as there may be genuine animal deaths on screen. Be warned! And while this did place a (potential?) bad taste in my mouth this is simply an incredible journey to watch. 

It is not stated in the film itself, but it is a recreation of "the living theatre" which existed in the 40s and onwards - and is meant as a meditation on freedom. This is very much felt. It feels both free and confined at the same time, wrapping itself in horror, circles, lines and madness. 9/10


L'ordre (1973, Jean-Daniel Pollett)



I have mixed feelings about L'ordre. The actual interview so much centres around and returns to - with the unforgettable image of a man who's face has been ravaged by leprosy - carries an incredible amount of strength. 

However, the experimental element - that is the footage of the place he - and others afflicted by leprosy used to live - feels thin. We get a line early on, where he says so many people have come and documented their experience and everyone just uses them for their own aim. It kinda feels like this is what Pollet is doing when he just takes his camera to go in and out a window (on repeat) or just runs down a hall. 

At the same time, it does feel like strong and beautiful contemplation on the illness, the history and the real experience of those afflicted with it. Centring it within the walls they lived - and asking questions of whether or not locking them away actually gave them more freedom, is powerful and interesting - I just can't decide to which degree it is self-indulgent, and to which degree this fits the actual mood/experience presented. 7.5/10


Sink or Swim (1990, Su Friedrich)



A beautiful and stripped back tale of growing up - narrated to juxtaposed, black and white footage, that is frequently stunning. We follow the story of a young girl (possibly Friedrich herself) and her relationship to her father. It is told in the form of "The girl", later "The woman" and "The girl's father" - and it has a poetic and very visceral force of resonance, even with the abstractions. The stories are clear and touching, while the images, staring with conception and wonderful footage of a fetus, takes us on her journey - as the images bring the tale to life. 8/10


Jonaki (2018, Aditya Vikram Sengupta)



Jonaki very much captures the feeling of a wasteland, a unique world crumbling on top of itself, disappearing - my mind drifts to Sukorov, and his more experimental work. The visuals are beautiful, but also a little vacant. 

I will say though, that there is a resonating conflict, revealed at the end, that does make what we have seen come together more than you'd originally think. At face value this is a world where people turn into trees, and fruit covers corridors. The poetic exit does centre the film a little more, and offers a key.

At the same time, while I was swept up in its beauty, I don't think it held itself together as well as it should - mixing contemplation/poetry - with the odd, minimalist almost reverse-Tetsuo vibe. I simply did not find this seemingly central theme or its execution that satisfying - though it is at all times an enjoyable film, and, with its conclusion comes together quite well. 7/10.


Jesus Shows You the Way to the Highway (2019, Miguel Llansó)



Jesus Shows You the Way to the Highway is clearly a future cult movie phenomenon - as bizarre and off-beat as it is playful and fun - complete with video game/simulation tie-ins giving the impression of a retro-Matrix/World on a Wire - but with the camp value turned up to 1000 - with silly crumbled avatars, brought acting and plotting - and a lot of charisma.

Daniel Tadesse carries the film wonderfully, teaming up with Llansó once again after Crubs (he really needs to be in more films) and showcases wonderful charisma and a presence we rarely see. Camp of this kind is usually not my cup of tea, but the silliness and camp value genuinely work really well - and you laugh/smile along, even if some elements may just be a little too silly. The tone and atmosphere is just that good. A film that just makes you happy, complete with a great ending. 7/10


Circumstantial Pleasures (2020, Lewis Klahr)


This is very timely mediation of news, politics and events: only with no actual dialogue - only cut-out art, images and animation - cutting it all together into rhymes - that frankly feels far more lyrical than the film above boasting about it in its very name.

It is actually comprised of 6 shorts, each with their own title and dedications, but all but 1 feel clearly related and form a clear cohesive whole. Just to be clear, I am not at all unhappy with the short diversion. It is a beautiful "visual effect" - that uses the real world to look at a city - and how it changes form and is structured. Would have worked even better as an opener/closer - but I'm not complaining.

The climax, is the titular segment itself, it is the only one with anything beyond sound effects - using lyrics and music from the great Scott Walker to bring the concept to life in even stronger colours and punch.

It's a beautiful work, though the meditation itself could have been just a little clearer - the experimental and rhythmic does take residence over poetry - but it is all connected and provides a thoroughly great experience. 8/10

Joks Trois wrote: ↑Wed Feb 03, 2021 9:15 amFort Apache and The Searchers

agreed about the searchers. always seemed more discombobulated to me than morally complex. quite enjoy fort apache though. b&w ford > colour ford all day every day

Jungle Girl (Richard Myers, 1984) - A strange fever dream of a thing. The director recalls his most formative cinematic experience as a child, the Republic serial Jungle Girl (1941) and his fascination with it's star, Frances Gifford. It was the first serial of it's kind to have a female lead. Gifford's career was cut short by a car accident in 1947, she suffered severe head injuries and trauma from the accident. She spent most of her later life in and out of mental hospitals.

Footage from Jungle Girl is intertwined with reenactments of scenes from it in the present by the director's friends (one of them being James Broughton), an interview with the director's mother talking about going and watching serials at the cinema in the 40's and also featured is the voice of Frances Gifford talking about her career, the highs and the lows. After a while it was kinda hard to tell all the different elements apart.

thoxans wrote: ↑Wed Feb 03, 2021 6:00 pmb&w ford > colour ford all day every day

Agree. Ford's colour films often look amazing, but my top 5 Ford re all b&w.

Juliet of the Spirits: my opinion is basically the same as Roscoe's. Has some brilliant stuff and questionable moments. It is also too long, but the length bothered me less this time than the last time I saw it. Amazing production design of course, and it definitely seems like the beginning of Fellini's almost purely 'set piece' driven, as opposed to simply episodic, approach to cinema that dominated most of his work from the late 60's onward, although like 8 1/2 it's more grounded in psychology than the likes of Satyricon. 7/10. Maybe a 7.5.

Welles' MACBETH dispenses with big chunks of the text, especially at the start, and I'm wondering how it works for those coming to it without a good idea of the play. There's plenty to arrest the eye, lots of Wellesian goodness with less of the downside that comes with that than I was expecting. An uncharacteristic bit of clumsiness near film's end involving the storyline makes me wonder what's up, as it seems to take Burnham wood a long long time to make it to Dunsinane, and Macbeth calls for his armor only to be seen without it soon thereafter as he deals with his Lady washing her hands. Post-production tampering, maybe, I'll have to check. Far from a deal breaker, as there's plenty of other great stuff going on.

NIGHTS OF CABIRIA still works, after having not been seen in many years.

My wife and I decided to crank through John Sayles' filmography chronologically. I'd never seen anything by him before. So we started with Return of the Secaucus 7 last night. Probably wasn't helped that I finished reading Vineland the same day, but I couldn't help but feel like it was Sayles doing a Rohmer-eque take on Pynchonian themes. It even has a discussion of a guy becoming a single car-human hybrid which is straight out of V.

Either way, it was very much up my alley. Excited to crank through the rest. We also made it a double feature with The Big Chill. Which definitely felt like a sanitized version of the same thing. My wife turned to me half way through and said "The music in this feels like a cheap-shot, but it's still fun". That sort of sums up my overall feelings. A lot of cheap shots, but ambiguous enough that it worked for me.

Monsignor Arkadin wrote: ↑Sun Feb 07, 2021 4:11 pm My wife and I decided to crank through John Sayles' filmography chronologically.

if you haven't seen them yet i recommend watching piranha, alligator and the howling before moving on to lianna. there are all fun movies for different reasons and it's cool to see his voice come through in different ways (and it makes the choice to do a weird sort of genre riff in brother from another planet make much more sense).

edit- i haven't seen lady in red but i know it has fans

Awesome, I’ll add them to the list. I’m always down for Joe Dante, so the howling especially is an easy sell.

loved brother from another planet back in the 90s, one of those movies that was always on cable. i should watch that again sometime

i watched the blade again last night, so damn bloody, all those steeljaw traps! and now i'm watching secret agent X-27

https://twitter.com/rbgscfz/status/1358 ... 70017?s=20

THE KISS BEFORE THE MIRROR, a 1933 melodrama from James Whate. Paul Lukas plays a man who murders his wife when he catches her cheating, and he's going to be defended in court by his best friend, played by Frank Morgan, who counsels him to claim justifiable homicide while under temporary insanity because of her outlandish conduct, and Morgan starts to realize that his own wife has a lover of her own, and Morgan's fury turns into an insane determination to get Lukas off the hook so that Morgan can kill his own wife and get away with it himself, and it's not as cool as it sounds, believe me. The usually reliable Frank Morgan is entirely awful here, completely unconvincing as a man torn by passions beyond his control.

The movie is set in "Vienna" but it clearly takes place in Universal's soundstages and backlots. A couple of those sets look familiar. There's some tasty cinematography from Karl Freund. Look close and you'll see the radiant Gloria Stuart in the opening scenes as the cheating wife who gets what the film thinks is her just reward. I'd be ready to put Paul Lukas in the chair for killing such absolute gorgeousness, myself.

It just doesn't fucking work. The movie runs just 69 minutes -- not even 70 minutes, nope, 69 minutes. We never find out enough about anybody in that brief time to make any real contact with them, and there are some bits of comic relief with cameo characters that keep promising to add something and frankly never do. Poor Frank Morgan's a big problem, frankly miscast. Fredric March or John Barrymore might have carried it off, or at least been more interesting. And the film's ending is a cop-out, ultimately.

Whatever. Just six months later Whale released the sublime THE INVISIBLE MAN, which gets everything right that this little movie manages to get wrong.

Finally watched all Yang's films with A Confucian Confusion the last and found it really forgettable and disappointing, which is much the same experience I had with Mahjong. It just struck me as a try too hard comedy. Not really sure what he was up to with those two when the rest of his filmography seems to me to be of a much higher standard. Even That Day on the Beach is pretty decent considering it is his first film, though it has some rough edges narratively.

A Confucian Confusion is the only Yang I have left to see. Is there a new blu-ray out? Been waiting for that.

Really sorry to hear it compared to Mahjong - that was such a sour disappointment to me. Had none of his power, and just felt sloppy.

Actually seems like we are fairly aligned on Yang given your stance on That Day on the Beach as well, so will be in less of a hurry to see it even if a blu-ray restoration was announced.

St. Gloede wrote: ↑Fri Feb 12, 2021 3:22 pm A Confucian Confusion is the only Yang I have left to see. Is there a new blu-ray out? Been waiting for that.

Really sorry to hear it compared to Mahjong - that was such a sour disappointment to me. Had none of his power, and just felt sloppy.

Actually seems like we are fairly aligned on Yang given your stance on That Day on the Beach as well, so will be in less of a hurry to see it even if a blu-ray restoration was announced.

No, I watched an old DVD copy. I should have waited, I didn't realise a restoration was in the works to be honest.

Mahjong was ruined by some terrible casting choices and weak plotting whereas with A Confucian Confusion, I just found the frenetic pace and over the top nature of the characters to be extremely annoying. But then, screwball comedy is not really my thing at all. It seems to review okay by others, so don't take my word for it.

It doesn't help that I watched mediocre DVD rips of these when with all the others I got to see restored versions. I overlooked a lot of the problems with That Day on the Beach's narrative because it looked so damn good.