Friday, November 29, 2024

La Strada (dir. Federico Fellini, 1954)

One thing I noticed about this film is the use of recurring motifs and scenes. Gelsomina riding in the back of the wagon looking out, Matto's theme played on both the violin and trumpet, Zampano's chain routine, etc. Even the ending bookends with the beginning, taking place at the beach where we start with Gelsomina with her simple innocence to the end with Zampano's wretched realization that it's all his fault for the way she ended up. There are so many moments where Gelsomina has the chance to escape from Zampano, yet she still ends up staying with him because she wants to find a reason WHY he chose to pay that much money to take her with him. In that sense the story becomes so tragic, especially with how Fellini captures her simple naivety. Masina's face and acting for her role really adds a lot to this film, Gelsomina really feels like her own character with her expressive mouth and huge eyes. It feels like Fellini made the whole movie just around this one actor with how distinct her performance is. Because of that, we really feel that pity seeing someone who desperately wants to be loved and accepted abused by someone as selfish as Zampano.

Zampano's arc throughout the film is noteworthy as well, it was an interesting choice to have the film start with Gelsomina but end with Zampano. Fellini puts us within Zampano's POV of the story at the end only when he decides to leave Gelsomina because he realizes the damage he's doing to her. However, the tragedy in that is that it's too late, and because of the shock he gave to her by killing Matto she is forever scarred eventually leading to her own death long after Zampano leaves her.

There are some scenes that really stood out to me. One in particular is the last conversation between Matto and Gelsomina before she decides to stay with Zampano after his time in jail. I really loved the poetic lines Matto states as he encourages Gelsomina, the romance within it feels so charged with melancholy but also hope. The music as well swelling up adds so much to this scene, and it makes such a powerful statement as it reflects on that aforementioned hope, as if there is always something on the horizon to look forward too no matter how hard or desolate it may seem. The scene of him walking away after dropping off Gelsomina sticks in my head too, bringing in that same feeling of her looking through the back of the wagon like in the beginning when she leaves her home town. It's as if she's simply being strung along, moving further away from one possible decision to the next.

Overall I enjoyed this film, maybe not as much as 8'1/2 in terms of camerawork or photography but the characters still felt really compelling and the music along with clever visual motifs and storytelling made it worth the watch.






















Thursday, November 28, 2024

Bicycle Thieves (dir. Vittorio De Sica, 1948)

There's a feeling of desperation that lingers throughout the story as Antonio tries to search for the thief that stole his bike. As he becomes less rational with his decision making his son Bruno becomes a moral compass, giving the audience a space to reflect on how his actions affect someone who's supposed to loo up to him. In a way it makes Antonio feel like a very pathetic character, but because of his economic status we sympathize with him much more. Every scene takes part in adding to this theme of how poverty influences our character, such as Antonio disturbing a church service to talk to the man who talked to the thief or him choosing to steal a bike at the very end. 

I was wondering throughout how the story would end, and having the main character do the same thing which caused him so much anguish really made a statement. Nobody else seems to care or give much attention to Antonio's troubles regarding the thief, but when he tries to turn it back around he gets caught and ends up being humiliated in front of the public and more importantly, his son. The last shot is really effective in selling this too as Antonio and Bruno walk among the rest of the crowd, getting lost in it as they shamefully head back him with tears in their eyes. It feels so desolate, as if their troubles are one out of thousands of people. However the honesty and integrity you have is always at stake, it's up to you to break the cycle of carelessness and do better for yourself.



Tuesday, November 26, 2024

Tsukiji (dir. Allan Sekula, 2001)

I usually don't watch many documentary films, but this one stood out to me. There's no narration or interviews, but simply a camera capturing a day at a fish market within Tokyo. The only context provided is the beating of a certain man at the location, allowing the viewer to take in that context however they want to as the film progresses. For me personally the imagery of fish being butchered nonchalantly reflected how the police may have beat the subject, without care for another human's life and doing so because it's their job. There is no music, just simply the ambient noise of the fish market. It pushes you to fully observe the scene yourself and focus on how each part makes you feel, the only deliberate choice made by the filmmaker being the choice of shots and camera.

Friday, November 22, 2024

The Conformist (dir. Bernardo Bertolucci, 1970)

 Bertolucci's critique on Italian fascism centers around the character of Marcello, a man who craves for a life of "normalcy" within the ideals of Mussolini's Italy. For me personally I had trouble watching this film initially because of my sleepiness so I was foolish enough to dismiss it as something very pretty but not worth following as a story. However, my foolishness was quickly proven wrong after finishing the film the morning after. I wish I had experienced the whole film with all of my attention and sharpness earlier in the day because the more I think about the film and the way I experienced the ending changed my thoughts drastically. Marcello's character follows a more tragic route, as he can't get over his cowardice in the face of dictatorship. He chooses to accept whatever reality is handed to him so he can survive, not just with politics but with his interpersonal relationships as well. He chooses to marry a woman he doesn't truly love, kills a professor he admires deeply, and abandons his best friend to relieve himself of the guilt he faces in all of his actions. Even with these actions he does them without any sort of conviction. He finds another woman he truly DOES love, but can't leave his wife because he doesn't want to take responsibility for the repercussions of his actions. All of these events define Marcello's character, and the more I come back to these scenes the more I admire both Bertolucci's direction and of course, Storaro's photography. Each scene feels like visual poetry on screen. The use of strict blue and yellow creates strong images that really help center the emotion of the film. The blue feels cold, distant and dreary much like the air of fascism that wafts around the story. On the other hand, the yellow in contrast feels extremely warm and inviting, making us feel like there is at least some hope or light within all of the misery that exists. On top of the colors the camerawork and lighting is extraordinary as well, each choice feels very deliberate in pushing the mood of the characters outward. 

One scene that really stood out to me in particular is the one in the club where Marcello tries to convince the professor's wife to stay in France as to avoid death. The use of trucking out from Marcello's supervisor to his wife and the professor all the way to Marcello and the professor's wife feels so dynamic, the crowd overtaking the rest of the shot gives that sense of really being lost. These characters are simply just a part of the crowd, yet their lives are about to be fundamentally changed.

I'm glad I watched this film, I hope to rewatch it again at some point to further appreciate the story, characters, and photography.






















Tuesday, November 19, 2024

The Hudsucker Proxy (dir. Joel Cohen, 1994)

 That's how you make a movie. Great, incredible visual communication with each scene and each shot along with the perfect amount of whimsy and romance. This film does it for me, I hope to rewatch it soon and appreciate more of it but for now I just really enjoyed the execution. I feel that because of it's more comedic nature it really allows for pushing each scene past just being a bunch of talking heads. Great movie, not much to say besides that.










Monday, November 18, 2024

Bonnie and Clyde (Arthur Penn, 1967)

 It's interesting how the film opens up with Bonnie's naked body, it really sets the expectation that she is someone who is desired sexually and puts the audience in a position to view her as that too. In an ironic twist however, her relationship with Clyde is defined in the opposite direction due to his impotence in sex. This frustrating dynamic between Bonnie and Clyde sets the whole rest of the film's tension, given the title as well. As we continue on throughout the story we see Bonnie getting increasingly frustrated with Clyde because at the base of it he does not fulfill one of a human's most basic desires. In a way, Clyde's life as a criminal also represents that initial sexual attraction turned wrong. Clyde is attractive, clever, and wild to Bonnie in the beginning as a criminal but the deeper she gets in with Clyde the further she realizes that this is not the kind of life or man that she wants. In a way, I felt trapped with Bonnie as she gets further away from that point of no return. An impulsive decision eventually leads her to her own death, creating a tragic tale that reflects how we often project our own desires onto people that don't end up satisfying us in the end.

Cinematography wise this film was incredible, there are some really notable shots and scenes. The ending shootout obviously creates an incredible sense of tension and release, the use of lens flare and sharp light with the birds coming out create a really impeccable rhythm as the camera cuts to quick close ups of Bonnie and Clyde sharing one last look before death. On top of that the scene where they finally have sex really stood out to me, it was very clever in how the camera follows the newspapers flying in the wind as they finally share intimacy together. It really reflects the free-spirited energy between the two in that moment and the energetic banjo helps lead the audience to feel that freedom as well. Additionally the scene where Bonnie meets her mother one last time with the family picnic feels very authentic, it's as if they just simply had the actors interact with each other as the camera sneaks around picking up any candid moments they can.








Friday, November 15, 2024

Brazil (dir. Terry Gilliam, 1985)

 The world Sam Lowry lives in is one that is not kind to humanity. Tubes, wires, and inane machinery fills the place. Bureaucratic procedures dominate every aspect of human life, requiring paperwork for every single bit of information. The rich are insanely rich while the poor live in complete abject poverty, victims to the constant machine within the world of this film. Within it, is it possible to live a true, real life fantasy? Watching this made me feel desolate in the fact that within this world, it's impossible to truly live out that fantasy. Even if you find your dream girl, even if you can manage to escape the fascist, bureaucratic nightmare of capitalism, at a certain point there is simply no escape. If the film was just that then I would feel that desolation, but what makes it worth watching is how instead of trying to critique it Gilliam instead embraces the inane dream that Sam Lowry attempts to indulge himself into. The world is bleak and desolate, but within that there is plenty of room to satirize and critique. It's entertaining seeing how the humans within this world still attempt to function despite the endless amounts of paperwork and dysfunctional machinery, but it also serves as a reminder what kind of world we might end up living in if we choose to forget our humanity.

I think what makes the character of Sam so interesting to follow is his foolish attempt to break out of the world within Brazil. Mild mannered, no life outside of work, and still relying on his mother he is presented as someone who doesn't have much ambition or drive. This is precisely what makes it so profoundly interesting when he finally does have the opportunities that are all presented to him, but I would like to think that he simply can't achieve what he wants because of the world that has shaped and formed him. He is a loser PRECISELY because of the environment he was put into. An environment where he has never truly practiced being ambitious or sure of himself, and because of that no matter how hard he tries he will never achieve the peaceful ending within his mind. As Jack says at the end, "I think he's truly lost his mind". He can only achieve what he wants within his dream because he's too much of a loser in reality to truly grasp it. It sounds harsh on his character but I really do pity him, he never has had a chance to be a human so of course he would fail.

Visually this film is very striking, the smog of the city fills every shot outside, making you feel like you are suffocated within the world of Brazil just like the characters. Along with that I've never seen a movie with such an interesting take on a futuristic dystopia. Technology is extremely inconvenient, filled with plenty of tubes, wires, and tiny monitors that need to be blown up with distorted glass. It truly feels unique and feels like the precursor to a lot of the "badpunk" kind of aesthetics you see in the early 2000's.

Overall this was an incredibly unique film and experience, I'll be thinking about this from time to time and it has completely made an impression on me. I will never forget some of the scenes I have experienced in this film.













Tess (dir. Roman Polanski, 1980)

I feel really bad for Tess throughout the whole movie. It feels like her life is cursed by the status of her family and the royal blood that...