To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)

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You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it. Six-year old Scout Finch (Mary Badham) and her older brother Jem (Phillip Alford) live in sleepy smalltown Maycomb, Alabama during the Depression, spending their time with their friend Dill (John Megna) who visits every summer, spying on their reclusive and mysterious neighbour the mentally defective Boo Radley (Robert Duvall). When Atticus (Gregory Peck) their widowed father and a respected lawyer, defends a black man named Tom Robinson (Brock Peters) against fabricated rape charges by a redneck white girl Mayella Violet Ewell (Collin Wilcox) whose own father Bob (James Anderson) has attacked her, the trial and surrounding issues expose the children to evils of racism and stereotyping and the accuser’s father has a bone to pick with Finch and his children … This feels like it has always been here:  the gracious Peck in the role with which he would come to be identified and young Scout’s view of unfolding events, the most violent of which are all offscreen. Horton Foote’s careful adaptation of Harper Lee’s instant classic and Pulitzer Prize-winner (with Dill a stand-in for her own childhood friend, Truman Capote) both heightens and elevates the issue of white supremacy in some of the shot set-ups by director Robert Mulligan, never mind the text in which the innocent victim of white justice is mysteriously shot by the police while allegedly escaping. Perhaps that’s the quibble of someone viewing it in retrospect twice over – the 1960s take on a 30s point of view. The sense of place and period ambiance is impeccable and the playing of the motherless girl by Badham (sister of director John) is hugely influential in its insistence on how we see things are – or were, perhaps, with no distractions or subplots to take from this essential drama of the rights of the vulnerable with the odd scene properly essaying the effect of horror films, just as a child experiences life. Each of the children makes a lasting impression. The courtroom scene is classic and the quiet dignity of the black community rising to their feet as Atticus leaves the legendary trial sequence is very moving. Quite monumental.


La Banquiere (1980)

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Aka Lady Banker. L’histoire de Marthe Hanau, dans tous les noms, vient de films lesbiens avant 1 Guerre mondiale sur la Dépression des années problématiques et les affaires concernant les femmes et les hommes jusqu’à la fin tragique d’une femme qui a poussé leur richesse, de partager des conseils par un système financier distribuer le journal et l’agence, qui a apparemment été basée sur des sociétés fictives. Schneider donne une merveilleuse performance, parfaitement arrondi, mais les tons changeants de la narration, des actualités humoristiques et des aigus d’une chambre à paniques bancaires, faire leur service ne sont pas pris entre les pôles de l’analyse historique et la nostalgie dans un champ précédent quelques années de Stavisky. Georges Conchon a écrit cette sortie quasi-biographique avec le réalisateur François Girod, de tout, même jette un magnifique score de Ennio Morricone dans ce domaine.

Finishing School (1934)

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Any film with Billie Burke has me at Hello. But she leaves pretty quickly, after dropping off daughter Frances Dee at a v. posh boarding school in this pre-Code drama co-written and directed by Wanda Tuchock (adapting from a play). Ginger Rogers is Dee’s room-mate Pony, the It girl in the school or ‘The Pal’ as she is billed in the interesting titles sequence. She organises a weekend trip to the city where Dee fulfils her ambition to ‘get tight’ (!) and meets Bruce Cabot, a lower class med student bringing room service in the hotel where they stay. She has to stay at school over the Christmas vacation (neglectful folks going to Florida)  and they fall in love (look at that lovely shot with snowflakes falling into his shoeprints outside the boat house) a situation that causes consternation. In a world where Thou Shalt Not Get Caught is the edict, this promises more than it can deliver but is fascinating for its portrayal of class difference, underage smoking, drinking and sex, pregnancy (Dee is called Virginia for a reason), what  girls do when they wear mouth braces (I remember!), twisty ending, the fact that the Catholic Church condemned it (always a good sign) and as a relic of its time – plus Ginger giving her all. Some things never change however – trampy teenage girls come from all classes! Fun fact:  5 months after the film opened, Dee gave birth to actor Jody McCrea, her son by husband Joel McCrea. Their marriage survived until his death. She died aged 94. This was the year the Production Code introduced in 1930 came into force under Joseph Breen, hence the interest in a pre-Code film such as this, which aroused such ire amid the new push for purity in a sea of ambiguity.

The Grapes of Wrath (1940)

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John Steinbeck’s marvellous portrait of poverty, starvation, police brutality and the truth behind the American dream in the Depression, got the A treatment under Darryl F. Zanuck’s supervision at Twentieth-Century Fox courtesy of a fine adaptation by Nunnally Johnson and direction by John Ford. There are so many things to treasure – the composition of the shots by Greg Toland, the random acts of kindness matched by the beatings, the roadside burials, the terrible injustices. But what really stand out are Henry Fonda’s eyes, burning brightly with intent. A genuine masterpiece of cinema.

Ironweed (1987)

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Quite why the homeless opt out is something that forms the bedrock of this film’s narrative, adapted by the author William Kennedy from his novel. Star performances elevate the downbeat Depression-era material, with Jack Nicholson and Meryl Streep giving real depth to these sad street people. He is back in his hometown at Halloween, for the first time in decades. She is his occasional girlfriend, a former musician who has long abandoned her musical dreams – her hallucinatory performance of He’s My Pal is a highlight. It’s nice to see Carroll Baker, turning up as Jack’s ex-wife in a radiant performance. The cruelty of society, the beatings administered by ex-servicemen and the awful tragedies that have caused decent people to become hobos, are problems that are relentless and persistent and while the poetry of Kennedy mitigates the depression, the outcomes don’t. Babenco had previously made The Kiss of the Spider Woman but this was his first film proper for an English-speaking audience and he followed up with At Play in the Fields of the Lord. In other words, he is a serious filmmaker of serious films. And Nicholson is indelible as the sad Francis Phelan.