A Time To Love and A Time To Die (1959)

Douglas Sirk, the meister of melodrama, returned to his native Germany for this gem of a film from 1959. The story of a young man on leave from the Third Reich during the final months of World War Two, and his growing disillusionment with the cause he is fighting for, A Time To Love and A Time To Die is as epic a tale of love and death as the title would suggest.

While it is a fairly basic initial premise, the film offers a much deeper subtext than one would expect with such over the top fare, with the conceits explored being incredibly daring and somewhat controversial for its time. The mere fact that the film is seen entirely from that of the side of the German army is polemic in itself, yet within the bold premise there is an unflinching truth seeping through. My favourite scene, at least in terms of getting the conflicting point of the attitudes towards the role of war in international affairs is dealt with most articulately when the subject of a "honeymoon" crops up; as a young wife asks her new husband which countries would welcome them for their honeymoon vacation, the gradual revelation as to the huge impact that the war has had on their future is incredibly well portrayed through the performance of the bride.

John Gavin, who was perhaps best known for his role as Sam Loomis in Hitchcock's Psycho and would later go onto play french special agent OSS-117 in the 1970's (see here for my review of the characters most recent outing) puts in a fine performance as our hero, Ernst Graeber, if not being a tad too all-american for a germanic protagonist. Swiss actress Liselotte Pulver is strong as the women graeber falls for. By not using star names in either of the lead roles Sirk is able to maintain an authentic appeal to proceedings. The support cast carries many a memorable role, with special mention going to Kurt Meisel as Heini, the piano playing drunken officer.

The locations utilised are absolutely outstanding, with the film looking incredible in 70mm Cinemascope. The edges of the frames are lodged with the perfectly judged placement, proving each shot to be a showcase of master direction. Sirk really understood how to frame a shot. the worn torn streets of 1940's Germany have never looked so great, with the daylight air raid being of particular interest.

A Time To Love and A Time To Die was released in 1959, the same year in which the French New Wave commenced, the same year in which Ed Wood produced Plan 9 from Outer Space (showing that absolutely anyone could make a film!) and the very same year in which transvestites became the thing of commercial comedy in Some Like It Hot. A Time To Love and A Time To Die doesn't feel like a part of this period of cinema, it reminds of the sort of film that was produced en masse in the 1930's or early 40's, it harks back to a more innocent time, at least tonally. Yes, there is definately something very contemporary within the piece, mainly for the reasons mentioned, but by and large it doesnt feel like it belongs in the late 1950's. Yet this is not a criticism, more of an observation, but the picture definately feels like a product of another time.

faust (1926)

the final film produced by friedrich wilhelm murnau in his native germany, faust (based upon the famous tale of german folklore) revolves around an incredibly simple premise, yet is magnificently epic in its full form. in fact, faust proved to be UFA's (universum film AG) most ambitious film to date, only being overtaken financially by fritz lang's metropolis the following year. in terms of set design and visual effects the film was advanced beyond its years, and still manages to impress.

the camerawork is outstanding, especially in the flight sequence. for its time this was ridiculously ambitious. the effects, although variations on simple old fashioned techniques, still work very well. it all adds up to create a very specific yet wholly appropriate style. there is a shot involving the young girl that is the object of the young faust's attention, whereby she becomes entrenched by the evil power of the necklace he gives to her, which involves an unusual camera movement that makes it appear that she grows physically whilst under its control. its a fleeting second of a shot, but fascinating nonetheless, and incredibly effective.

there is some genuinely terrifying visuals, the plague being inflicted upon the village being the one that immediately springs to mind, and sticks there too! the giant feather that makes up a section of mephisto's headpiece is downright bizarre, but all the more disturbing for it. there is a legitimate comedic streak throughout the picture, and is especially prevailant in certain scenes. the most obvious of these comic scenes would be the "he loves me, he loves me not" sequence, wherein mephisto is pursued by the character of marthe schwerdtlein. such narrative breaks were common place in the cinema of the twenties; over-serious subject matter was often broken by over the top, out of character (in terms of the style of the film) sections.

the film is rife with religious allusions, much further beyond the literal footing that the subject matter carries with it. the scene towards the end of the film revolving around gretchen's walk across the snowy field is akin to the proverbial trek across the desert, with the omnipresent tree even reminiscent of a palm tree. im not sure whether or not this is intentional, but its a great little touch. the religious aspect ties into the films overlying and ultimate theme; that of redemption.

alone across the pacific (1963)

"alone across the pacific" is my first kon ichikawa, and was a highly positive experience. "alone across the pacific" tells the story of a young man that betrays his father's wishes and embarks on a journey taking him from his home of osaka to the shores of san francisco. the subtext tells of a young man that wants to break free from the shackles that society have deemed upon him, with the story of the journey being as metaphorical as it is practical, and one that most can relate to in some way. contextually the film message may strike deeper tho, with the plot being a slightly veiled look at the way in which japan as a nation was controlled to a large extent by the americans in the wake of the second world war. the scene in the passport office as well as the american sailers obsession with protocol would suggest this is the case.

rather uniquely, the film's structure follows the emotional plight of our unnamed protagonist. that is to say, that rather than as would usually be expected in this sort of film, wherein a person takes a journey of some kind, the joy doesnt come at the end, it comes at specific points along the journey. when our protagonist finally makes it to san francisco his happiness is hampered by the reality of what is effectively "the end".

the idiot (1951)

it has been mentioned in the past how i am rather fond of akira kurosawa's melodramatic films, despite not being able to get a handle on his more popular samurai films. im not sure why exactly this is, i have always blamed the complicated politics of the films as the probable reason, and have all but given up on the genre. "the idiot" is kurosawa's love letter of sorts to the work of fyodor dostoevsky, with the source material's location of russia being transferred to kurosawa's home of japan. not having read the novel i cant attain to it personally, but the film is said to be fairly close an adaptation to the original book. based upon the fact that the film is paced very similiar to that of a novel in the way that the relationships and characters develop it would certainly seem that this is the case.

akira kurosawa's "scandal" (1950), produced just one year before "the idiot" is one of my very favourite films, hence the seeking out of this picture, and while it doesnt reach the heights of "scandal" its still a magnificent film. if one looks back on kurosawa's run throughout the early 1950's it truly is quite the accomplishment, regardless of your feelings towards some of the work. alongside "scandal" and "the idiot", kurosawa produced "rashomon" (1951), "ikiru" (1952) and "the seven samurai" (1954), truly a genuinely historical run of films.

mad detective (2007)

eureka video's masters of cinema series is usually reserved for the work of classic filmmakers such as f.w. murnau (as seen in the recently discussed and current number 1 film of all time in the hopeandbullshitlist) and fritz lang, but johnie to & wai ka fai 2007 thriller represents a new era in the MOC structure, in the shape of a contemporary title being released theatrically through the label.

the masters of cinema series is basically the closest thing that british dvd distribution has to the criterion collection. that is to say that its a boutique studio specialising in areas of film neglected by the usual outlets, financing restoration work and releasing obscure or forgotten work. what follows is the pitch from the MOC website -

Masters of Cinema is an organic, international initiative founded in 2001 by four friends with a mutual interest in a particular type of filmmaker. Now five-strong, and living thousands of miles apart from each other in three different countries, we aim to bring pertinent information together in one place for aficionados of World Cinema. In early 2004, Masters of Cinema began working with Eureka (UK) on a Masters of Cinema Series of DVDs.



so, as i mentioned before, mad detective represents MOC's venture into contemporary film. a very brief cinema run occured in the summer, but the film was only showing anywhere remotely near me whilst i was away in paris i didnt have an oppurtunity to see it until now. now im not the biggest fan of asian cinema, and aside from the work on wong kar-wai and a bunch of akira kurosawa melodrama's ('scandal', his finest work, is available on MOC incidently) its not a part of the world with whom's cinema im overtly aware of, that is to say that i entered mad detective with an air of caution. character politics are an area of hong kong cinema that i have always got lost in and confused by, something that i pertain as to causing my dismay with the "genre" of sorts. it may sound ignorant or pretentious to refer to a whole continent's cinema as a genre, but its not meant in that manner. im acknowledging my lack of famiarity with the area of film and its simply a sign of my own losses that i may come off as ignorant! it is with great relief and slight embaressment that i can express my sincere pleasure that mad detective was enjoyed. the film is a thriller of sorts, in which the titular "mad detective", chan kwai bun, played with personal revelatory, intense charm by ching wan lau. the character of bun, a disgraced former detective (disgraced through the act of cutting his own ear off and giving it to his superior as a retirement gift) has the ability to literally "see" a persons inner-character, a technique that he has used to solve many obscure crimes over the years. he is called back into action after a former colleague goes missing while on duty and appears to have turned to a life of crime. what i found to be especially refreshing about the film was the lack of the sort of twist/turn that one has come to expect from a modern hollywood thriller. at the same time it didnt feel conventional at all, which is an very subtle but huge achievement. the basic premise, followed by an equally basic turn of events lead one to compare the film to the american film noir of the forties, structure-wise at least, so in effect the film is not hugely different from its masters of cinema peers.

the next contemporary release will be tokyo sonato, heading to cinema's on the 30th january before hitting dvd some two months later. i will no doubt be picking it up on dvd at the very least, although i do hope i will have the opportunity to actually see this release in a cinema. as mentioned above im not the hugest fan of contemporary asian cinema but trust and value the MOC series to deliver a quality product, although i do hope that some contemporary french and german cinema is on the cards.

f for fake (1974)

f for fake truly is an oddity. prior to seeing the film i had often wondered what it actually was. given what i knew about orson welles, and the way his work was heading towards the mid 70's i was expecting a video essay of sorts, something along the lines of jean-luc godard's ''l'histoires du cinema" (1989), and while i wasnt exactly correct in my assumptions, i wasnt exactly wrong either. welles' himself, both in the press for the film and the picture itself, proclaims f for fake to be "a new kind of movie".

the "film" tells the story of elmyr de hory, the famous hungarian art forger, and uses de hory's story as a means to explore the idea of the truth. in doing so the film explores the myth of howard hughes, the author clifford irving (whose questionable autobiographies connect both de hory and hughes) and welles himself, when the famous 'war of the worlds' period is examined.

f for fake is considered to be welles final complete film, despite being released 11 years before his death. the film was recieved terribly in the united states, perhaps due to the ambiguous nature of the film when looked at from the outside, but great appreciation was recieved from europe, which by this point had become welles' spiritual home artistically.

viewed initially as a look at avante-garde and unique editing (an area of exploration for myself at the moment) i found the film to be a great success. thirty years on it may not be as unique as the day it was originally released, but it remains a charming and interesting film, and one that stays in the mind long after the credits have rolled (a cliche exclamation no doubt, but for a film as unique as f for fake i have no qualms in using it).

sunrise - song of two humans (1927)

perhaps the greatest silent film of all time, sunrise - a song of two humans is a product of two very different minds. creatively, the film was masterfully conceived by german filmmaker friedrich wilhelm murnau (f.w.murnau for short), who was lured to america with the promise of a blank cheque by william fox. together they crafted what would go on to be described by influential film periodical cahiers du cinema as "the single greatest masterwork in the history of the cinema".

the film opens with the premise of -
"this song of the man and his wife is of no place and every place; you might hear it anywhere at any time"
a fact that rings true in many ways. despite the fact that the film is over 80 years old, it proves, much in the same way that a text by shakespeare might, that love is a universal and recurring truth. the pain of remorse and longing is felt in an incredibly jarring and naked manner. the emotion is laid bear and genuinely effects, which when you consider that the tools at hand to murnau didnt actually include conversation, arguably the most emotive form of communication, then the execution is all the more impressive.

the film follows the story of a man and his wife, peasents on a farm in a town over-run by tourists during the summer, who's relationship is thrown into turmoil upon the arrival of a young city girl. the man embarks on an affair with the girl, a bold action and major taboo to be explored on screen in the nineteen twenties, when, blinded by love and pursuaded to do so by the girl, the man plots to killl his wife. in the midst of attempting to commit the act of murder the man realises he cant go through with it and his wife escapes to a neary city. the rest of the film follows their journey through the alienating and culturally polar city, where they encounter a fun fair, a barber shop and fruitful traffic.

the city girl is a very early protege of the archetypal femme fatale. the fact that she uses the concept of her sexuality (prevalent heavily in almost all of her scenes through the choice of clothing the character wears) to lure and manipulate the man, again in an extremely bold manner for the time of the films production. the effects of the affair caused by the city girl are seen throughout the film, the emotional effects are not forgotten and lend to a fairly complex psyche for the lead characters, something seen most prominently in the scene in the barbers where both the man and his wife are overcome with serious cases of jealousy when each interact with the opposite sex.

while the film deals with some pretty heavy subjects it still lends itself a sense of humour. one scene in particular brought a smile to this viewers face like no other in recent memory. a piglit escapes from one of the fairground attractions, causing all manner of havok, before our protagonist can lend himself to the story and step out of the scenario as the true hero. as neanderthal as it may be, few sites can make a grown man laugh as much as that of a small pig drinking red wine and subsequently tumbling over.