Minneapolis' own Cult Film Collective recently released a zine of "top 5" lists contributed by its membership. The zine is only being distributed to members but I decided to reproduce my list here on the blog. The whole zine was a great read and hopefully we'll be able to do another one next year. If you're in the Twin Cities area, you should definitely be checking out the CFC and consider joining!
Crime films and especially French crime films have always been part of my regular viewing but shortly after becoming a Cult Film Collective member, I started delving more deeply into the genre. This kind of noir cinema has a dedicated and passionate following and my pursuit led me to discover some fantastic programming work in theaters from San Francisco to Melbourne. Whether the following are truly "cult" films is probably a matter of debate, but they are some of my favorite underseen gems I've logged since the joining the CFC.
A suspenseful, well composed cat-and-mouse game through Parisian nightlife. Henri Decaë shows off his total mastery of street footage and driving sequences, Barney Wilen's jazz score adds an additional layer of cool to everything, and Lino Ventura is as watchable as ever as the film's protagonist who also happens to be the bad guy.
Genre banger from Jacques Deray that's heavy on cool 60s vibes and location work. There's not a deep mystery at the heart of Symphony but the suspense is exquisite through multiple dialogue free sequences that allow space for actions and motivations of the various players to unfurl.
Lino Ventura and Marlène Jobert team up as an unlikely pair of crime solvers who scour Paris to find the missing witness in an organized crime trial. There's a degree of 70s cynicism at play here but the focus on the city as a character, shoe leather detective work, and the chemistry between Ventura and Jobert distinguish Address from the rouge-cop films that were gaining ascendency at the time.
In contrast to Address, The Cop is entirely in the tradition of morally ambiguous, pessimistic, anti-authoritarian crime fiction and does it as well or better than many films that would follow. Unrelentingly hardboiled, gritty French crime from Yves Boisset with a cast so stacked that somehow Bernard Fresson doesn't even make the poster.
Police Python 357 takes the plot outline from The Big Clock, mashes it together with Magnum Force, and infuses the result with a powerful dose of Melvilleian honor code sensibility. The beginning simmers but the finale is an eruption of insanity. Yves Montand fully commits to the action hero role, but not without some internal torment and it's a joy to watch.
Hello and welcome to the first post of 2024 actually about things I watched in 2024. I'm not big on resolutions and I haven't exactly made any regarding film, but I have been watching a fair amount of movies and trying to tackle some big gaps in my personal filmography. I did make a private "Criterion Challenge" list for myself to try and knock out some of those movies we're all supposed to have seen by now. I'm historically abysmal at this kind of thing but I'm hoping that my stubborn ass can handle one viewing a week dedicated to watching some of the best regarded films of all time. We shall see.
I've been reading Rui Nogueira's Melville on Melville which is a book-length interview with Jean-Pierre Melville written in a similar framework to Hitchcock/Truffaut. If you are a Melville fan, there's a lot to enjoy. Melville comes off as funny and highly opinionated and seems happy to discuss his films while not holding them up as overly precious. He was frequently looking towards the next film and the next project. One thing Melville mentions in his introduction is that he considered himself one of the last living witnesses of pre-war American cinema and that no one will be left who can truly assess those films in context once he is gone. Melville says " The film which was released in April 1934 - between March 1934 and May 1934 - isn't at all the same thing when you see it now some afternoon or evening at the Cinematheque." He goes on to describe his own films similarly. This is, of course, somewhat ironic to me as many people and critics failed to appreciate Melville's films when he was still alive and Nogueira's purpose in conducting the interview was to document and elevate Melville's work for an international audience. Still, it did get me thinking on seeing films in context and why I still find it personally important to get out to the theater for new releases. I'm a film dork so I'll forever believe in finding underseen, underappreciated gems of past years and will always love and appreciate the work repertory theaters and programmers are doing, but there's still something I find compelling about getting out to the new movies and especially at the theater with an audience. Part of it is continuing to believe that great movies are being released every year and there's also a sense of conversation with the films and the audience I don't get watching movies at home. It's something I really, truly missed when the cinemas shut down and I'm still thinking about it now.
Le Havre(2011) - I've been meaning to watch Le Havre pretty much ever since reading about when it came out and just never found the moment until now. I was partly inspired by having seen Aki Kaurismäki's Fallen Leaves (more on that below) and also because I was having an epically shitty day. Le Havre turned out to be a truly potent remedy for my dark mood blending stylistic turns from classic Hollywood and Cinema du Look with Kaurismäki's class conscious humanism. I found it totally engrossing and only wished I could recognize more of the societal solidarity of Le Havre in my own life.
Growing Up on Broadway (1984) - My wife turned me onto this educational short about menstruation featuring kids who were in the Broadway production of Annie. It's a wild time capsule, the kids are terrific, it is VERY clearly sponsored by a feminine hygiene product company. I've since shared it with a few people and you too may be the kind of viewer who finds this weird and charming. Either way, it's on youtube and only 17 minutes long.
Pasha(1968) - Late last year, I finally bit the bullet picking up some French blu-rays that I believed were English language friendly and region agnostic. I wouldn't recommend it for a single purchase, but it went rather well for me to pick up a handful of films. One of the main drivers to go through this was to finally see Georges Lautner's Pasha starring Jean Gabin. A lot of Pasha is a re-tread of world weary Gabin trying to maintain his code of honor while society indulges in cowardice and decadence. He grimaces disapprovingly at everyone from hardened criminals to his wayward colleagues on the police force and scenes like the "Les Hippies" nightclub sequence are clearly objects of derision. At the same time the consistently pulsing Gainsbourg soundtrack and some of the more lavishly styled mod settings betray Lautner's obvious enthusiasm for the fashion of the times. Late-career Gabin might be a victim of his own inertia but there are still some ferocious sequences of action and violence that propel Pasha along its brisk 85 minute runtime. Interestingly, Pasha's frank police violence was a subject for possible censorship from the French government and along with Un Conde provides a template for the gritty cop movies American's largely see as kicking off some years later. I've never seen it confirmed that these European films were a direct influence on Friedkin, but I feel like it is a distinct possibility.
Katherine(1975) - Made for television joint with a terrific cast (Sissy Spacek, Art Carney, Henry Winkler, Julie Cavener, etc.) directed by Jeremy Kagan (The Big Fix). The style is unconventional mixing "interviews" with principal characters, flashbacks, image collage, and interstitial scenes of Spacek's Katherine addressing the audience directly. It's a compelling story loosely based on the actual life events of Diana Oughton who became increasingly radicalized until her death in an accidental bomb explosion. I don't think the film necessarily approves of political violence but it does paint a sympathetic portrait of leftist ideologies and the societal injustices that inspired them. I think this could make for a terrific physical media release (maybe along with some other Kagan films) but I have to imagine the music rights alone (heavy with 60s hits) would make it challenging.
Underground(1995) - I was mildly obsessed with Emir Kusturica's Black Cat, White Cat in the 90s and I can't recall if I never got around to watching Underground or I tried and failed to get into it or it just fled my memory over the years. However it went down, this was essentially a first time watch. I know probably less than I should about the politics and history of former Yugoslavia and yet that's never really prevented me from being immersed in Kusturica's visionary chaos. The music and the visual richness is something I associate with all of his work, but the satire seems distinctly more pointed here. I would absolutely love to see this theatrically one day and someone really ought to program a retrospective Kusturica series. Just putting that out there programmers, you don't even need to credit me.
Local Hero(1983) - Another long time watchlist denizen finally attended to. I wasn't ready to purchase a copy of Bill Forsyth's (arguably) best regarded film and yet it's availability online or via my local library has been a little erratic. I'm actually glad for the delay as I've dipped my toes into less heralded portions of Forsyth's filmography which both grounded my expectations and attuned me to his particular brand of quirk. Forsyth doesn't make bombastic, laugh out loud comedies and somehow I invariably burst into laughter at some dryly observed piece of absurdity in each of his films. Local Hero may in fact be the best one I've seen so far. It's silly, it's gorgeous, and it's wonderfully performed (it's hard for me not to be enthusiastic about this cast but they're particularly good). The socio-economics of billion dollar fossil fuel companies trying to buy up coastline and the local enthusiasm for those corporate dollars isn't what I would call rigorously interrogated in the film but there's such strong streams of both melancholy and wonder that I think Local Hero gets it mostly right on an emotional level. Now I probably am ready to buy a copy.
Payday (1973) - Here's another one that's been on my radar for a while I was finally, finally shoved off the ledge hearing Brian Sauer sing its praises on Jason Bailey's and Mike Hull's A Very Good Year podcast. Maybe it was the country western music context that held me at arm's length for so long and it's definitely not widely available but hol-ee shit do I wish I had gotten around to this one sooner. Absolute killer 70s bummer country outlaw banger with Rip Torn playing the scumbag as only he could play it. It's truly a gorgeous looking film for all of its ugliness (directed by Daryl Duke of The Silent Partner) and the music is incredible. This is fully screaming for a good physical media release and there are plenty of boutique labels that could do it justice. Take my damn money already.
The Counterfeiters of Paris(1961) - Another of the import discs I picked up, this is a total charmer of a caper comedy with some of my favorite faces of French cinema. It's not incredibly inventive but there are some sequences of almost lyrical beauty that are overachieving for the material. Louis Page (Any Number Can Win) handles the camera duties here and Gilles Grangier elected to shoot a combination of excellent locations in addition to some gorgeous sets - particularly the labyrinthine townhome occupied by Bernard Blier's character. Combine this with some Michel Legrand music and some engrossing counterfeiting sequences and you have the makings of a new favorite comfort watch for me. I know Kino is releasing a different Grangier/Gabin collaboration so I'm looking forward to picking that up and hope that more are on the way.
Shadows in an Empty Room(1976) - I've been dragging my feet on this one for ages but I wanted to try to fit something in for Giallo January. Shadows' giallo bona fides might be questionable but that's fine as I actually prefer when it leans into hardboiled cop action. On that count it's positively ferocious with doors getting smashed in, fist fights, foot chases, and an unhinged car chase set piece that ranks up with some of the best. Extra points for shooting down a helicopter with a revolver and threatening an infant with a switchblade.
The Spirit of the Beehive (1973) - It's difficult for me to write anything terribly sensible about some of these pillars of arthouse cinema that I'm only now getting around to. Beehive is positively stunning and it's inconceivable that this was Erice's debut feature. I was so totally blown away by Ana Torrent's presence and performance in Carlos Sauros' Cria! and here is an even tinier Ana every bit as magnetic as any child actor you're likely to see. I can't say that I fully appreciate the political context around Beehive but I do feel like this captures the absolute horror of childhood so beautifully that I think relating to the film was easy for me. Can I add this to my list of favorite Frankenstein films? I hope so.
Nightcap(2000) - I picked up the Twisting the Knife set from Arrow to continue on my Claude Chabrol journey I embarked on last year. I think Nightcap (I really do prefer the original title, Merci pour le Chocolat) was my favorite of the four but they are kind of a whole in my mind. Nightcap features another perfectly chilling Isabelle Huppert performance as a wealthy chocolatier who's relationship to her pianist husband and unmoored stepson is tinged with typical Chabrol-ian darkness. The four films in the set (The Swindle, The Color of Lies., Nightcap, and The Flower of Evil) are all preoccupied with wealth, ambiguous familial relationships (with suggestions of incest), old secrets, cycles of history, and death. At this point, I find them all compulsively watchable and the Arrow sets are filled with great features and discussion of Chabrol's work and themes. I'm also finding myself weirdly nostalgic for the period in which these films were made - the late 90s into the early 2000s. It looks a lot like the world does now, just without smartphones or the internet permeating every interaction people have. I'm probably just getting old but still...
The Breach(1970) - Many of the contributors to the Knife set referenced The Breach as well as the other Hélène films and I was actually able to find a copy of this one. I can understand why a lot of people site this as a favorite amongst the Chabrol thrillers. The opening is rather startling and while it simmers for a good hour it eventually erupts into a wild, chaotic finale. Unlike a lot of his more mannered works, the sex and violence and corruption happens on the screen instead of merely referenced. I have grown to appreciate Chabrol's exercises in ambiguity but The Breach delivers in a much more tangible sense. This didn't connect with me right away but has kind of grown in my estimation the more I think about it and the more I think about how it relates to his other films. The copy I saw did not look terrific and there really needs to be a restoration and re-releasing of his films from 1968-1978. I'll be the first in line to buy that box set.
True Confessions(1981) - Adapted from John Gregory Dunne's novel by Dunne and Joan Didion and directed by Ulu Grosbard (with Owen Roizman as cinemtographer, so the same team as Straight Time), True Confessions is a tremendous if somewhat understated LA noir that seems to be overlooked or forgotten. Loosely based on the Black Dahlia Murder, Confessions is filled with all the hardboiled favorites: murder, prostitution, porn, abortion, crooked cops, even worse politicians, and offers the added wrinkle of the LA Archdiocese. I think Duvall and De Niro are both excellent and while there's not much physical resemblance, they do play their brotherly connection convincingly. It's often contentious but it's believably tender at times. The rest of the cast is overflowing with faces I like to see: Charles Durning, Burgess Meredith, Kenneth McMillan and even some small parts for Dan Hadeya and James Wong. The lack of operatic violence would have put me off of this one when I was younger and story doesn't wrap up particularly neatly. Still, I see this as nearly Chandler-ian and it didn't keep me from being drawn in. Hard recommend if you go in for this kind of thing but it might not win over the casual crime film viewer.
Theatrical Screenings!
Winter Kills(1979) - Kicking off the new year with this supremely nutso sort-of spoof that never quite lives up to the promise of its totally bananas cast. The tone feels all over the place and despite the short runtime, the narrative manages to ramble a fair amount. For all of its faults, I have to say I was consistently entertained throughout - it's outrageous enough and so stacked with people I love to see that it would be hard not to engage with it. Looking at the production history of Winter Kills, it's clear that this thing was going off the rails from jump and it's impressive they even managed to get a complete film finished. Who Killed Winter Kills is totally worthwhile to look up if you've seen the film. We got to watch the fancy new Tarantino-driven 35mm print thanks to the fine folks of the Cult Film Collective.
Fallen Leaves(2023) - Not outrageously inventive nor does it depart significantly from Kaurismäki's other work but it's so excellently done that I didn't mind a bit. The setting for Leaves is ostensibly Helsinki around 2021 or so but it's also filled with anachronistic touches that place it almost within an alternate reality or something. I could see myself revisiting this to tease out more of those threads. It's also incredibly sweet, melancholy, filled with movie posters I'd love to own, and Maustetytöt (featured prominently in a terrific narrative breaking section) has gone into steady rotation at Kino Ventura central.
The Zone of Interest(2023) - I can see how some might be put off by Glazer's remove but I still appreciate his approach to attempting to document something about an atrocity that's nearly incomprehensible in its immensity. What can you say or show in a film that even approaches the enormity of evil of the Holocaust? I'm not even sure how to write about this film other than to say Glazer's craft is exceptional and I wish he would make more movies.
The next few movies are all things I've seen so far as part of the Film Independent Spirit Awards screenings at the Walker Art Center. They do these screenings every year and they are free to Walker members, Film North members, and Film Independent members. The screenings only occur in Minneapolis and Los Angeles so if you live in the Twin Cities, I can't encourage you enough to take advantage of them. If you became a Walker member and only used it to go to the screenings, I think that would still be a great deal.
All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt (2023) - This is the debut feature of Raven Jackson, known for her photography and poetry, and it feels very much like a film made by a poet. Evocation of fragmented sense memory, the fluidity of time, the specificity and incompleteness of our recollection all feature prominently. It is very lyrical in its execution and beautiful as well. I think how audiences connect with it is going to be highly subjective - there isn't much traditional narrative or character study to hang on to. Either you will be utterly lost, appreciate it from a distance, or find yourself transcended. The sound design is tremendous, definitely a theater watch if at all possible.
All of Us Strangers (2023) - Andrew Haigh is a director I should really follow up on as while I've not seen all of his films, I tend to really appreciate the ones I do manage to see. There was a lot of hype around Strangers and I think it's deserved. It's an incredibly intimate and evocative portrait of isolation and loss with some outstanding performances from its scant cast of essentially four actors. Not many dry eyes left in the theater during this one and being an old sad-sack, I loved the soundtrack as well. Last year around this time I was watching Paul Mescal in Aftersunas part of the Spirit Awards so that's two positively heartbreaking turns from him.
A Thousand and One (2023) - My favorite category for the Spirit Awards is "best first feature" (as well as their Cassavetes award) and I'm continually astonished at how accomplished some of these debut features are. I went into A Thousand and One mostly blind and I found myself drawn in immediately between its recreation of 90s NYC and the captivating performance from Teyana Taylor. This is both a heartfelt and sometimes brutal family drama but it's also a story of gentrification and the dissolution of place and a culture. The balance between these two was struck rather deftly and while it doesn't let anyone off the hook, it doesn't feel strident in how it approaches the subject. Taylor is already a star but this definitely put her more squarely on my radar. I was really impressed with Josiah Cross as well. This should be a bigger hit and more people should see it, but I do see it is available on prime video so hopefully it gets some more eyeballs. I will 100% be looking for the next feature from A.V. Rockwell and you should too.
Upon Entry(2022) - Another debut feature, this time from Spain, and a fantastic illustration on how to cleverly assemble a taught narrative on a budget. It's the story of a young couple attempting to move to the US when they get held up by immigration. Their initial confusion gives way to desperation, rage, and despair as the interrogation they're subjected to becomes increasingly Kafkaesque. This was a really smart film and I doubt I would have seen it otherwise so I'm glad for that.
