36 Fillette (1988, Catherine Breillat)

I generally find Catherine Breillat to be something of a hit & miss director, more so because so many of her films end up becoming merely didactic with limited style to show for it. Even the weightiness of the shock value of her works can be wearisome & transparent at times. During those times when she doesn't have discourse on the brain & is dealing with matters of the heart, she hits her stride.

36 Fillette is something of the awkward middle child of an unofficial trilogy of films about adolescent girls & their burgeoning sexuality. Also, the film is rather tame by Breillat standards in terms of sexual explicitness, which makes it a less effective film than her previous A Real Young Girl, a work that was borderline surreal in exploring the protagonist's sexual experimentation, or Fat Girl probably among the most unnervingly memorable marriage of sex & violence & yet struck me as one of Breillat's least heavy-handed works. Mind you, I do not view sexual explicitness & frankness as inherent virtues of effectiveness in exploring sexuality as a theme as suggestion is capable much of the time of being even more effective. With that said, in the case of Breillat a lot more direct honesty & baggage comes along with presenting explicit (or "confrontational") material. 36 Fillette is more concerned with the psychological over the physical aspects of sexuality & its relation to gender dyamics. The manner in which Lili's sexual ambivalence plays out particularly in the long scenes with her & the creepily predatorial & simultaneously ambivalent in his own right, Maurice, is both greatly uncomfortable & yet there's something of a humanistic heft & it's hard not to feel a certain degree of compassion for her.

Inevitably however, 36 Fillette also lingers in the shadow of Maurice Pialat's truly wonderful A nos amours, another film that deals with adolescent sexuality, but only as part of a much larger framework of emotional upheaval & confusion heavily shadowed by the broken familial unit. Even though there's a significant difference in how the girls of these two films express their sexuality, & what they hope to obtain from it (Suzanne of A nos amours primarily seeks emotional kinship as opposed to immature Lili's need for independence & a sense of mature selfhood), it's hard not to feel that quite a good bit of Breillat's film feels like well-tread territory. These factors do play out as well to lesser depth & effect in 36 Fillette, but yet the way the influence of the upset family unit is executed by Breillat, it feels forced, & somewhat bogs down her film.

Slow Motion (1980, Jean-Luc Godard) aka Every Man for Himself

Prostitution is certainly a key theme among much of Godard's work in its relationship to capitalism. First seen in Vivre sa vie, & more directly related to consumerism in 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her, Godard's recycling of such themes always produces a different different yet very Godardian & there's something of a clear arc of cinematic approaches, ideas & concerns running through his work.

Prostitution isn't an exclusive theme of Slow Motion, but it is a partially dominant one in how it looks at social power/sexual relations (moving away from exploring its relation to capital), which end up playing out in often scathingly funny ways, particularly during some lengthy & ironically desexualized role-playing. It's also worth noting that this was something of a "comeback" for Godard being that he grew far less prolific after the fallout of what went down in 1968. The film hints more at the serious side of Godard (despite the fact that I think this in particular is very humourous as well) which would unfortunately become a dominant tone of his later work. That is not to say that his earlier work wasn't serious in what it had to say or that its concerns weren't serious, but there's a playful & often giddy visceralness to much of that work that stands in contrast to the cranky stuffiness of something like In Praise of Love, but I digress. What marks the more serious strands of Slow Motion is its concern with film itself (i.e. the other dominant theme of the film) especially w/r/t reinvention & the function of film as largely expressed by a Godard surrogate naturally also sharing his last name (I generally roll my eyes at such overt self-reference, but yet I didn't mind at all here) as played by the always great Mr. Francoise Hardy himself, Jacques Dutronc. Elsewhere the film's use of slow motion (thus its apt UK title) in relation to narrative & altering time & motion becomes an effectively engaging mode for exploration of ideas as opposed to the tiresome visual gimmickery we so often see in film nowadays.

Reversal of Fortune (1990, Barbet Schroeder)

Back when Bill Kurtis narrated half of A&E's programming, I was an avid watcher of American Justice. One of the more notable episodes I came across profiled the very lengthy, high-profile, & convoluted case of Claus von Bulow. It was only natural that I would eventually get around to watching Reversal of Fortune, whenever that would have been.

At the time the film came out, Jeremy Irons' performance was very ballyhooed. Rightly so, but at the same time, it is also something of a thankless performance. Irons has a presence of cold pompousness, & that is what is required of his character (as are the sharp wardrobe with the odd turtleneck for good measure). While both are hyper-articulate, Ron Silver as Alan Dershowitz in his excitability & big rhetoric (as well as the moustache to go with the curls & large wire frames) is almost a contrast to Irons' aloofness. However, whatever dynamic is forged in Reversal of Fortune between Irons & Silver operates within a very cluttered work that is never quite certain how it wants to approach the material. Is it more interested in conveying a shallow world of the wealthy & miserable? Or, is it more concerned with telling a story, rapidly glistening over the lead-up to the second trial of von Bulow spearheaded by a man of intense principle (however problematic that may be)? Initially opting for balance, it is unfortunate that Reversal of Fortune gets bogged down by the latter, which is too bad because regardless of how fascinating the von Bulow saga is, there are flashes of inspired wit in its backstory. As a legal saga, it kind of feels like a mechanical ticking clock scenario.

Also, what could have been a clever narrative device, or alternately a disastrous one ends up being neither as Glenn Close as Sunny von Bulow partially narrates while in coma mode. Many probably felt that it was a clever & original touch, I thought it was a bland gimmick that served little function than to fill in the grey areas. & yes, even Glenn Close with all the natural presence that she possesses gets undeservedly overshadowed.

Hadewijch (2009, Bruno Dumont)

There are many interesting questions asked in Hadewijch, but yet this is something of a substance over style affair. In its favour, the film doesn't harbour any dogmatism & is effective in exploring the limits of blind faith (within a worldly context), & what its ramifications can be. Unfortunately, substance does not by default equate to being a successful work. It is also something of a problematic affair in that in its explorations of the extremities of faith in that it eventually links together the extremes of the individual's blind faith in God & that of Islamic terrorism. It's rather ambiguous, & almost rightly so, but these modes of comparison & linking almost seem a little too convenient, not to mention that within the context of the narrative seems almost unnecessary & half thought out.

Religion, or at least religious motifs run through all of Bruno Dumont's films, but this is certainly the most overt. Sometimes these references are subtle in his work, some not so much. Hadewijch at times employs some of the most obvious of symbolism. Having seen all of Dumont's films up to this point, the film also feels overly familiar; what comes to mind first is the platonic relationship between Celine & Yassine bringing to mind the platonic relationship initially provoked by rejection of sexual advances between Marie & Kader in The Life of Jesus. Mind you, Flanders lost a considerable degree of its emotional impact due its familiar tone, but it at least rarely evoked deja vu of the director's other work. I feel as though there was some attempt at creating some sort of emotional connection to Celine (his secondary characters not so much so) while simultaneously evoking an air of ambiguity, but ironically Hadewijch ends up feeling far more distant than Dumont's previous work that while slower & more meditative also resulted in a more engaging viewing experience.

Play It as It Lays (1972, Frank Perry)

Joan Didion's novel of the same name from which this is adapted is a work of few words conveying a tone that is cold & bleak, which is not to say that the work isn't something of a savoury marvel of words & images that swirl around in the mind & beg to be reread. Yet, it's rather surprising that such a book was considered ripe material for a film adaptation. 

Joan Didion wrote the screenplay with her late husband John Gregory Dunne, even though apparently she was disappointed with the end result of the film. I find this rather surprising, since I feel it captures the detached introspection & the alienation of the surroundings of the desert, Los Angeles freeways, & smoggy cityscapes. However, while the film faithfully captures the themes & motifs, it forges its own style very much independent of the novel. Lacking the sparseness of its original source material, the viewer is allowed considerably more intimacy with its characters & environment, it is no less fragmented & enigmatic. It seems heavily influenced by the European arthouse films of its era (i.e. the late 60s/early 70s) which spilled over into much of the New Hollywood stuff, but not nearly to the extent that it's felt in this particular work. With that said though, its sensibility complements the material & never comes off as lofty or chic.

The Entity (1982, Sidney J. Furie)

Peter Tscherkassky's best known short film, Outer Space spliced & mangled various scenes from The Entity (he also used scenes from this film in another one of his shorts of almost equal greatness, Dream Work) into what is certainly one of my favourite works of recent memory, as well as being probably the most frightening film I can think of (by no means a small feat for someone as jaded as yours truly) along with David Lynch's Inland Empire. So naturally I was inclined to get around to watching The Entity at some point, even if the notion of a film about a woman being repeatedly attacked & raped by a ghost seem like it could easily be vile horror sexploitation. Thankfully it isn't. However, that isn't to say that it is a particularly good film, at least not a wholly good one.

The main issue is that it wants to be both a supernatural horror genre film, but at the same time treat the subject matter seriously. What might be a detriment to some, there is a considerable degree of thoughtful exploration of psychological trauma & sexual repression (particularly incestous desire). The problem is that it also treats the supernatural elements as a given. As overwrought in trying to evoke scares as some of the scenes are early on in the film, they still offer suggestion rather than overt explanation. When it veers towards cheesy & archaic (even for its time) special effects (not to mention ghostly breast-groping), the film seems to be more interested in sensationalism. While there is some atmospheric craftiness & a terrific look to it all, The Entity almost goes a little too far off in a climax that starts off as genuinely eerie & devolves into the sort of thing that's more in tune with some blockbuster action movie with Barbara Hershey & Ron Silver trying to dodge an out-of-control tank of liquid helium.

It's inevitable & something of a given that films based on actual accounts (particularly paranormal ones) would take heavy liberties. It is unfortunate though that the filmmakers feel as though there is something more disturbing about paranormal activity than the possibility that such events could be the onset of psychological trauma.

Single White Female (1992, Barbet Schroeder)

Somewhere in the middle of all the "_____ from hell" movies came this, & it's quite possible that this entry (the "roommate from hell") seemed to resonate a little more than the others considering that its title has been lexiconized as an interchangeable euphemism for crazy roommates or friends. It also seemed as though it was very methodically following a checklist of thriller conventions; but it also being made in the early 90s is also very much a product of its time, not only back when Steven Weber had a career (this came out around Wings' heyday) but rather because of the hair & fashions. Or the gay & single confidante neighbour which was the staple of both romantic comedies & shows like Melrose Place. It's also very in check with the rampant illusion that even bookstore clerks or out of work actors can afford a ritzy metropolitan lifestyle (in this case, being able to live in a spacious turn of the century Manhattan loft) without additional financial support (maybe because the building these characters live in is under rent control?). Also, this being a "_____ from hell" movie, the obligatory cute animal ends up being among the first (if not the first) of the casualties.

Cited heavily elsewhere, it even ranked on a list of scariest movie moments on Bravo, there are few movies that come to mind where a hairstyle (albeit a rather unfortunate one to put it lightly) could speak such volumes. Here, it also plays into a sort of double motif recycled heavily from Hitchcock onwards. Late in Single White Female, there is the suggestion of a sort of Persona-like superimposed unity (literalized in the final scene), but it's a very superficial nod. While that could have made for a more interesting thriller, it would also be unreasonable to seek out such content.

Primarily, the film is not one concerned with plumbing the depths of Jennifer Jason Leigh's psychosis, but rather letting loose on the creepy madness that is par for the course of the "_____ from hell" thrillers. With that said, it's very enjoyable & satisfying on that level, & partially compensates for how otherwise thin the material is. The drive of what makes Single White Female work amidst its trite conventions is Leigh's performance, which indulges a degree of creepy mania that for anyone else would reek of trying too hard. There's a sort of desperate & pathetic neediness exuded that cuts through the run of the mill psycho cliches. That is not to say that there isn't a genuine creepiness probably best exemplified in what is likely the most unsettling blowjob scene in a mainstream film.