Life is too short to not waste time doing this. This should be regular for a while, starting now, but retroactive to a few days ago, when I started posting them on Google+, where I’ll continue to post them, too. Here are those:
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Rosemary’s Baby [1968, Roman Polanski] (8.4) – I somehow managed not only to avoid this for 25 years, but also to isolate myself from it enough to believe that it was some sort of The Exorcist competitor for gore and shock value, when it’s really a way more elegant study of paranoia that keeps the darkest matter offscreen. I was hoping that the reality of Rosemary’s fears would remain ambiguous (as a movie-watcher, of course I think her neighbors and doctors could possibly end up as satanic witches given their behavior, but that they actually are moves everything into the supernatural, distinguishing a bit of the severity of Rosemary’s condition – she wasn’t crazy after all, but actually quite justified). A lot of Lynch-isms in here, too (the Castevets have to be the source for the grandparents in Mulholland Dr. that lead to Betty/Diane’s ultimate fate; the final scene in the secret room evoked Blue Velvet‘s climax in Dorothy’s apartment; not to mention the ominous train noises).
————————————————————————————————————————————————–
I Don’t Want to Be a Man [1918, Ernst Lubitsch] (5.6) – damn is Ossi an irritating brat. I like the way, over time, the gender politics becoming increasingly fickle – going from offensive and belittling representations of female daintiness (Ossi ‘doesn’t want to be a man’ because, well gee, smokin’ cigars, drinkin’ champagne, and gettin’ yer toes stepped on are tough work!) to her empowering, if still short-sighted triumphs over her ambiguously gay guardian (aside: were hetero males in early-twentieth century Germany really that touchy-feely? I mean, they could hardly keep their mouths off each other). Points for being such a prescient representation of drag, even if it’s all never as funny as it tries to be.
————————————————————————————————————————————————–
Il Posto [1961, Ermanno Olmi] (8.7) – a few days ago I made a blanket statement against pretty much all of Italian cinema – excepting Antonioni, of course – but I clearly forgot about the neo-realists, somehow. The push-and-pull of ecstatic human emotions and the de-humanizing machine that is the workforce are balanced with a style that is somehow true to the ‘realist’ label but still expressive and occasionally abstract. Antonietta is one of the most alluring banal female characters I’ve seen; every moment she’s not on the screen in the second half of the film, I miss her.