![Screening Log: 28 & 29 November 2011
1. The Divorcee (1930, no credited director!) More interesting as a flagrantly “amoral” (that becomes ultimately conservative, natch) Pre-Code monster than fun to watch. But it’s often that, too, thanks to Norma Shearer and Robert Montgomery. As much as I like Pre-Code Hollywood, some of the more outlandishly outré ones (Baby Face, in particular) have a tendency to be rather plodding. I’m sorry. [DVD]
2. A Passion/Passion of Anna (1969, Ingmar Bergman) Although I’m not the rowdiest cheerleader for Bergman’s ’50s and ’70s biggies — as though he needs them — I’m consistently entranced with his mid-to-late-’60s work, when he was truly experimental and transitional, trying to redefine what “Bergman” means to world cinema while adapting to new styles and the horrors of Vietnam. Of these, this is the most transitional; there’s no clear storyline, which instead keeps mutating in frequently exciting ways. Despite getting her name in the American version of the title, Liv Ullmann’s Anna barely appears in the first half. She’s more talked about than seen, and then she’s suddenly in a relationship with Max Von Sydow’s quasi-hermit. If anything unifies A Passion it’s the characters’ unwillingness to be simplified by a “type”: as a hermit for MV Sydow, an unstable woman for Ullmann, shallow for Bibi Andersson. (Only Erland Josephson never quite breaks his stereotype as an uptight “intellectual.”) Except that for Von Sydow, pushing beyond his boundaries only leaves him open to meltdown. But the whole film, like it’s characters, can’t be easily classified, which is it’s charm. Even the peppering of interviews with the cast members commented on their roles, while too incidental to make a strong comment, echoes the film’s notion of fragmented identity. Also it’s Bergman’s first color (I’m pretty sure of), and uses the technology strikingly without being ostentatious about it. Neat stuff. [Netflix Instant]
3. Pulp (1972, Mike Hodges) I’m not convinced Hodges can do comedy, even as scripted by himself. And though the black comedy here is spotty — for example, pairing an OTT Mickey Rooney with Michael Caine, who employs that look of bored disdain he rocks in, say, Billion Dollar Brain — the film as a whole fits into Hodges’ singular world of taciturn men caught up in barely explicable systems. Not totally enjoyable, but required viewing for writing a piece on Hodges as a filmmaker. [Netflix Instant]
4. A night of five short docs from Temple University’s MFA documentary program. Impressive stuff. [repertory screening]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lvhtc5mqI81qzoio3o1_1280.jpg)
Screening Log: 28 & 29 November 2011
1. The Divorcee (1930, no credited director!) More interesting as a flagrantly “amoral” (that becomes ultimately conservative, natch) Pre-Code monster than fun to watch. But it’s often that, too, thanks to Norma Shearer and Robert Montgomery. As much as I like Pre-Code Hollywood, some of the more outlandishly outré ones (Baby Face, in particular) have a tendency to be rather plodding. I’m sorry. [DVD]
2. A Passion/Passion of Anna (1969, Ingmar Bergman) Although I’m not the rowdiest cheerleader for Bergman’s ’50s and ’70s biggies — as though he needs them — I’m consistently entranced with his mid-to-late-’60s work, when he was truly experimental and transitional, trying to redefine what “Bergman” means to world cinema while adapting to new styles and the horrors of Vietnam. Of these, this is the most transitional; there’s no clear storyline, which instead keeps mutating in frequently exciting ways. Despite getting her name in the American version of the title, Liv Ullmann’s Anna barely appears in the first half. She’s more talked about than seen, and then she’s suddenly in a relationship with Max Von Sydow’s quasi-hermit. If anything unifies A Passion it’s the characters’ unwillingness to be simplified by a “type”: as a hermit for MV Sydow, an unstable woman for Ullmann, shallow for Bibi Andersson. (Only Erland Josephson never quite breaks his stereotype as an uptight “intellectual.”) Except that for Von Sydow, pushing beyond his boundaries only leaves him open to meltdown. But the whole film, like it’s characters, can’t be easily classified, which is it’s charm. Even the peppering of interviews with the cast members commented on their roles, while too incidental to make a strong comment, echoes the film’s notion of fragmented identity. Also it’s Bergman’s first color (I’m pretty sure of), and uses the technology strikingly without being ostentatious about it. Neat stuff. [Netflix Instant]
3. Pulp (1972, Mike Hodges) I’m not convinced Hodges can do comedy, even as scripted by himself. And though the black comedy here is spotty — for example, pairing an OTT Mickey Rooney with Michael Caine, who employs that look of bored disdain he rocks in, say, Billion Dollar Brain — the film as a whole fits into Hodges’ singular world of taciturn men caught up in barely explicable systems. Not totally enjoyable, but required viewing for writing a piece on Hodges as a filmmaker. [Netflix Instant]
4. A night of five short docs from Temple University’s MFA documentary program. Impressive stuff. [repertory screening]
