More (1969)

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I fell in love at first sight with the blonde in the corner. Stefan (Klaus Grünberg) is a German student who has finished his mathematics studies and decides to have the adventure to discard his personal commitments. After hitch-hiking to Paris, he makes friends with Charlie (Michel Chanderli) while playing cards in the Latin Quarter and they decide to commit a burglary to get some money. At a swinging Left Bank party, Stefan meets a free-spirited-beautiful but elusive American girl called Estelle (Mimsy Farmer) and follows her to the island of Ibiza. The two become lovers, with an atmosphere of easy sex, nude sunbathing and lots of drugs. He discovers Estelle is involved with former Nazi Dr. Wolf  (Heinz Engelmann). Borrowing a villa from a hippie, Stefan saves Estelle from Dr. Wolf only to find she does not really want to be saved, and she introduces him to heroin, which she has stolen from Dr. Wolf. Stefan is initially against Estelle using heroin, but having used it previously, she persuades him to try it. Soon Stefan and Estelle are both heavily addicted to heroin. They try to break the addiction using LSD and initially manage to stay clean… Debut director Barbet Schroeder’s original story was developed into a screenplay with Paul Gégauff. It is a statement film about the chasm between the hippie dream and the deluded addicts drifting in its wake. The deep sense of desolation, despair and sorrow which the narrative confers upon the viewer could be seen again in various shapes and forms in Schroeder’s later works: the irony of Maîtresse (1975) lying in the bourgeois Ariane’s need to humiliate men; Von Bülow’s effortlessly synchronous double life and his passing for innocent in high society in Reversal of Fortune (1990); Hedra’s destruction of Allison’s life in Single White Female (1992) by the simple expedient of moving into her apartment, imitating her appearance and infiltrating her existence to the point of murder. In More, Schroeder may not have been interrogating the relationship between these vicious partners in a destructive spiral, however the spiritless effect is one of total devastation. Pink Floyd’s diegetic score is simply wonderful and the cinematography by Nestor Almendros provides a startling contrast between the wet motorways of Germany and the bleached blissed-out landscape of Ibiza. I’ve written about this extraordinary film here:  http://offscreen.com/view/barbet-schroeders-more-1969.

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Panic Room (2002)

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Divorced mom Meg Altman (Jodie Foster) and daughter Sarah (Kristen Stewart) are no sooner moved into their new four-storey NYC brownstone than the previous owner’s grandson Junior (Jared Leto), caretaker Burnham (Forest Whitaker) and psychotic Raoul (singer Dwight Yoakam) have broken in to steal millions in bearer’s bonds belonging to Junior’s grandpa – now the Altman money (much more) happens to be in the eponymous space where the ladies have decamped. Trouble is, these guys really want that money and are arguing amongst themselves and in the panic room little Sarah is going into diabetic shock … This was part of Foster’s reinvention as a paranoid action woman – triggered only when Nicole Kidman had to withdraw from the role due to injury.  Screenwriter David Koepp wastes absolutely no time in putting the ladies in jeopardy and it’s a face-off between their ingenuity and the desperate men’s resorting to violence that fuels the narrative which is disrupted again by the arrival of Altman pere (Patrick Bauchau). After a taut mid-section it descends into a rather predictable shootout at the conclusion but not before there are some genuinely thrilling moments including a visit by the local police force following Meg’s phonecall which she has to disavow because the thieves are watching on the extensive CCTV system. A good example of the home invasion thriller and nice to see a blonde Kristen Stewart pre-nose job! And a nicely ironic physical example of what the snowflakes would call a safe space …. (ha!) Directed with his usual flair by David Fincher.

The Fisher King (1991)

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Obnoxious NYC shock jock Jack Lucas (Jeff Bridges) is doling out advice as per and looking forward to a part in a TV sitcom when the news mentions his name – a man was inspired by his rant against yuppies to go on a shooting spree in a restaurant and then killed himself. Jack spirals into a suicidal depression and we find him three years later working in the video store owned by his girlfriend (a fiery Mercedes Ruehl) and about to kill himself when some youthful vigilantes decide to do some street cleaning – he’s rescued by Parry (Robin Williams), a Grail obsessive and homeless loner whose wife was killed in the restaurant massacre. How their lives intertwine and they both chase the objects of their affection (and each other’s obsession) while battling mental illness is the backbone of this comedy-drama-fantasy that is told in the usual robust and arresting style of Terry Gilliam, who was directing a screenplay by Richard LaGravenese. There are iconic images here – the Red Knight appearing to Parry as his hallucinations kick in, and the chase through Central Park;  the extraordinary Grand Central Station waltzing scene in which Parry meets the weird Lydia (Amanda Plummer);  Jack and Parry watching the stars. Gilliam’s own obsessions are all over this despite his not writing it, with references to the Grail (obv) and Don Quixote.  It’s all wrapped into four distinctive performances which embody oddball characters in search of a role for life in a very conventional time, with emotions riding high while personal circumstances contrive to drag them to the very pit of their being. There are some outstanding performances in small roles by Tom Waits, Michael Jeter and Kathy Najimy in a film that proves that dreams do come true.