Lolita's Classics

Werner Herzog reads Curious George

2011-06-10T10:08:00.000+02:00

"And vat does ze fat man get for his troubles?
Nothing but a broken jaw and to be laughed at by mousies."

If Germany ever produced something reminiscent of brilliance, it is this. Forget Fritz Lang, Ernst Lubitsch and the other guys: Werner Herzog reads Curious George.

Okay, it's not really Herzog reading. But it could be. A dark and existentialist update of a children's classic.

Was Ingmar Bergman a Changeling?

2011-05-26T15:58:00.001+02:00

They should have suspected something. He has a huge wart on his cheek, his mother didn't.

[Warning: I was so eager to get this blog post out there that I haven't reeaally checked all sources. Do it yourself if you don't believe me. But believe everything I say, my Messiah complex tells me that I am indeed correct.]

I was going to trash the fourth Pirates of the Caribbean film to pieces (I won't even link to its IMDb page), but it's not really necessary. It's shit. I will make a one-sentence-review: The mermaids were cool and should have been a short film on it's own, while the rest was tired recycled-predictable-once-successful bullshit. Don't see it. Don't give Disney the money. Don't let Johnny Depp disappoint you this way any more. And don't f*cking watch 3D movies, it's shit.

Now to the real subject of this blog post. It does not seem to have hit the international news yet (but the Swedish, so use Google Translate on this article if you're obsessed), but apparently... Ingmar Bergman's mother was not his biological mother! He was a bastard!

At least according to a DNA analysis. Well, I can't argue with science, can I? No, but I can argue with the sources of the DNA samples, which were two stamps that Bergman may have licked in the 1950's. And the world is flat, because it looks that way.

But - so what if he was a bastard child? Unfortunate for him, in that case, since he had to grow up in a strict and mentally disturbed pastor family without really having to. BUT. Artists go nuts, totally bananas. They think we will have to reinterpret all Bergman's films now, since most of his films had strong ties to his personal life and his upbringing.

I don't think that's necessary. I will explain why, referring to that Swedish news article that you can't read. The reporter has contacted a scholar (oh yeah, a scholar) called Jan Holmberg, and asked him how the these news about Bergman's biological heritage is going to affect the director's creations.

- I would say nothing. But I am not very naive. When it comes to Swedish artists such as Bergman, one is interested in his works mostly from a biographical perspective. He has repeatedly said that childhood is the key to his artistry," says Jan Holmberg.

On the other hand, Jan Holmberg thinks that researchers, critics and journalists have been somewhat uncritical when it comes to the analysis of Bergman's films.

- You should remember that Bergman was amazingly good at convincing. He was also terribly sneaky. Just because Bergman said that something was in a certain way, it need not necessarily mean that it was like that," said Jan Holmberg.

And, of course, Bergman was not aware that his mother wasn't his biological mother (if she wasn't, but she probably was), so how the hell could that affect his work?

But then again, as an arguing friend of mine teased me with: he may have KNOWN, but didn't TELL...

I had to argue that Bergman was a narcissist and liked to share his private life. He would have let us know about it. Then again, probably not truthfully. He liked to spice up the stories of his life, add a few "dämons" and canted camera angles. (He did not say "demons" like normal people, he had "dämons". Then again, he was far too different from ordinary people to have ordinary demons.) But he would NOT have kept quite about being a bastard child, it would have been too good and scandalous story at the time and the context of a strictly religious home.

So if anyone thinks that these news are a reason to revalue all of Bergman's films, that person is no better than the idiot that thought Hitchcock was adding poop and rectums in all his film. (Read another blog post of mine.)

This angel can't be a bastard, can he?

"I understand Hitler, I do."

2011-05-19T18:45:00.001+02:00

"But come on, I'm not for the Second World War! And I'm not against Jews. Well, Susanne Bier is... No, no, even Susanne Bier. Ehm... that was also a joke. I am of course, ehm... very much for Jews. No, not too much, because Israel is a pain in the ass, but... eh, still, ehm... how can I get out of this sentence?"

Sweet honey darling... Just stop talking...

Article in New York Times:
http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/05/18/lars-von-trier-kicks-ups-a-cannes-controvery/

Entire press conference:
http://www.festival-cannes.com/en/mediaPlayer/11391.html

Update: Just heard an interview with Lars von Trier after he had been banned from Cannes: "Oh, so you heard that I have become a persona non grata? Yeah, my parents would be proud of me..."

Ranking List of Woody Allen's Movies (Not By Me)

2011-05-17T07:57:00.002+02:00

I thought it was a fun idea, and I'm busy with my essay. So eat it up.

"Woody Allen has written and directed forty-one films in the last forty-five years, making him one of our most prolific auteurs. He's also run the gamut between great and awful more perhaps than any other director. With his latest, Midnight In Paris, out this Friday, I sized up the man's formidable body of work, listed here from worst to best."

http://www.nerve.com/entertainment/ranked/ranked-woody-allen-films-from-worst-to-best by Zachary Wigon.

The Philadelphia Story and an Impending Doom

2011-05-10T13:08:00.001+02:00

I'm so hyped! There is no secret that I adore the deeply disturbed Danish doomsday-filmmaker (alliteration for the win) Lars von Trier, so of course I look forward to his next film Melancholia (2011). But there is more!

The latest edition of the Swedish movie magazine Cinema just arrived to a thankful Lolita, and isn't there one of those strange, surreal interviews with Lars von Trier about his latest film in it? Of course there is! There is a reason for my strange blog title, so listen up: The film Melancholia is inspired by The Philadelphia Story (1940).

I will repeat that. In this interview Lars von Trier says that his latest film, the one that succeeds Antichrist (the film with a stillborn deer, an evil fox that proclaims "Chaos REIGNS" and Willem Defoe ejaculating blood), is inspired by the Cary Grant/Katharine Hepburn/James Stewart screwball comedy The Philadelphia Story. Suck on that!

So if you can imagine the hilarious wedding chaos of Tracy Lord with a planet ten times bigger than Earth that soon will collide with our dear Tellus, you seem to have gotten the gist of Melancholia. This sounds so awesome that I don't know what to do of myself. I think I will jump off the balcony and try to fly away with anticipation. (No, I haven't taken any drugs that I don't already take regularly. I'm just psyched about this.)

It's alright, Alexander. I won't kick you out of bed. Non! maintenant...! viens...

Now the cast. It's awesome! Surprisingly enough Kirsten Dunst - I have high expectations for her. Do this right, woman! Then we have one of my favorite actresses of this day and age, Charlotte Gainsbourg (yep, the daughter of the man that so sexily sings Je t'aime moi non plus with Jane Birkin). She was fantastic in Antichrist, I don't doubt that she will match that performance. Then there is Kiefer Sutherland (another surprise), Charlotte Rampling (yay! a favorite superbitch of mine), John Hurt and scary Udo Kier. (See him in Blood for Dracula from 1974, if you have no self respect. Like me.) Among the Swedish cast we have father and son Stellan Skarsgård and Alexander Skarsgård - known in great, big, amazing America for the tentacle monster in Pirates of the Caribbean respectively a sexy vampire in the True Blood series. And a Lady Gaga video, in which he is called "Alejandro", for some reason. (Crikey, why do I know that?)

[Lot's of vampire actors/actresses, when I think about it... Kirsten Dunst in Interview with the Vampire (1994), Kiefer Sutherland in The Lost Boys (1987), Udo Kier as Count Dracula and Alexander Skarsgård as Eric Northman in True Blood. There is a vampire inflation going on. Be ware. Pull the strings!]

Now watch the damn trailer. It really is The Philadelphia Story - Lars von Trier style! Sometimes I'm so proud of Scandinavia! *happy sigh* Who wants to buy me movie tickets?

Note: it's filmed in Trollywood, Sweden. Woo-hoo! (No, Denmark and Sweden are in fact not the same country.)

[Update May 11: I'll just copy-paste what dear Tim Williams e-mailed me.

Just read your blog post for "Melancholia"--nice as always; however, I felt bound to point out that in the Pirates of the Caribbean milieu, Stellan Skarsgaard in fact plays Orlando Bloom's cursed father ("Bootstrap Bill") and not the "tentacle monster" ("Davy Jones") who is played by Bill Nighy. Small faux-pas, probably insignificant, but I thought I would tell you that privately before anyone else did publicly.

Keep 'em flying!

Sorry for the error, but in my humble opinion bad movies don't need any serious research before being mentioned. Like the first Pirates of the Caribbean, though. And obviously, the Skarsgård/Skarsgaard family.]

Dead Snow (2009)

2011-05-05T13:02:00.001+02:00

Død snø aka Dead Snow
Director: Tommy Wirkola
Norway 2009
91 min
Tagline: Ein! Zwei! Die!

Double April Fools Day on you all! First I make a bad joke about the subject for my essay, then I disappear for more than a month - surprise! I will say only this: I was gone, bin Laden died, and now I'm back again. You may draw your own conclusions. (But please build your conspiracy theories around something Mata Hari like, so I may feel a little flattered.)

The other day I watched this film Dead Snow, which I had bought on DVD for my brother as a Christmas gift (with accompanying Merry Christmas card with Joseph Goebbels on it, as is mandatory). I had not seen it, but a film that claims to be "the best Norweigan Nazi-Zombie-splatter film that has ever been made" just has to be good. Not only do I think that Dead Snow is the best Norweigan Nazi-Zombie-splatter film that has ever been made - I suspect that it is the only Norweigan Nazi-Zombie-splatter film that has ever been made. And hopefully it will not spawn an army of cheap copies.

Just the idea of Dead Snow is pretty mind blowing. I watched the trailer on a pretty wild (read: "lots-of-liquor") party about a year ago, and it is but now that I have been able to still my hunger for it. Now, this is a tongue-in-cheek film, as many zombie films are. But it is unique, oh, it is unique! You may first watch the trailer and get an idea of what we are talking about here. Count the film references - which film are you for instance thinking about when the youngsters open the box with Nazi gold? (I know, quiz for 7-year olds. I just want my readers to feel a little smart once in a while. Altruism for the win.)

If the plot isn't obvious from the trailer, it is just as simple and cliché as a gang of stupid/horny teenagers getting the brilliant idea to live in a filthy cabin far up in the Norweigan mountains. Of course only one knows how to find the way back to the car/civilization, and he is also the only one with a snowmobile. One girl is supposed to meet up with the others at the cabin, but is viciously hunted down and eaten by (what we suspect is) a Nazi zombie in the very first scene of the film. Of course the guy with the only snowmobile and the only sense of direction goes off to look for her, when the rest of the gang are attacked by... well, a pretty dead, rotten and angry Nazi army that want their Leprechaun gold back.

Aside from just being a wonderfully entertaining film, perfect to watch with a few cans of beer and a loved one by your side that can alternate between laughter and horror to your privilege (I advise both men and women to use each other in these kind of situations), Dead Snow is also an intelligent parody of the zombie film genre. They don't give a damn about ridiculous plot holes (why would a teenage girl get the idea to walk across the mountains by herself? what is that old man doing in the mountains, and why does he just invite himself into the cabin to tell them the history of the Nazi occupation and that their coffee tastes awful? why would a hot girl want to fuck with a guy taking a shit? and so on), and the blood and gore is wonderfully entertaining.

It could happen... if you are insanely disturbed and grotesque. Guys, don't get your hopes up.

One of my favorite scenes is when that Rastafari chick is chased by zombies and manages to hide in a tree, just to have a fucking crow making noises and draw attention to her hiding spot. In desperation she grabs the crow around the neck and bangs it against the tree until it dies. (Haha. Macabre and humorous. I'm sick, I know.) She looks down to see if the zombies have gone. Two uniformed zombies stand still under the tree, looking up on her. There is silence and stillness. The zombies start to climb the tree and the Rastafari chick throws the dead crow at them. It doesn't help.

Anti-humor is the shit. Watch this film now! And then you can brag about you being so cultural, having seen a Norweigan (or was it Swedish? maybe it was from Switzerland...?) movie, and therefore may get laid if you play your cards right. Thank me for that. My pleasure.

Rick and Ilsa as brother and sister

2011-04-01T07:48:00.000+02:00

I am currently writing a 25 page essay in film studies, and I just got the idea to change the subject of it. I first thought about analyzing the female influence on the male characters of The Maltese Falcon from 1931 (Roy Del Ruth) and 1941 (John Huston), but I have sadly realized that there is already too much written on that subject. Instead, I remembered that I always got unmistakable incestuous vibes from Rick and Ilsa whenever I have watched Casablanca (Michael Curtiz, 1942), and I think that point of view can result in a substantial re-evaluation of the great classic, and a great essay.

Isn't it weird that Rick and Ilsa seem unreasonably uncomfortable with running into each other? Almost as if there were something else than just a regular heterosexual love affair to be anxious about.

Haven't we all wondered what Rick really meant with "We'll always have Paris?"

What we all do know is what Paris was infamous for back in those days. For example, there is one scene in Boardwalk Empire (Terence Winter, 2009-) where Jimmy asks his wife to fellate him, arguing that all women in Paris does it. And Boardwalk Empire takes place in the jolly 1920's - just imagine what happens in Paris 20 years later, in desperate war times.

I do also believe that the line "Here's a looking at you, kid" is an obvious reference to Leopold von Sacher-Masoch's Venus in Furs (publ. 1870), but I may have to check minor details.

This stance may not be the most popular one, but I do think I have enough evidence on my side to make this essay work. Any ideas?

Gee, I'm so stylish!

2011-03-25T11:10:00.000+01:00

Thank you, Monty! His reason for giving me this blog award was that my blog is "awesome!" - and I bet the awesomeness of my blog lies in the fact that I update just seldom enough to lose the interest of my blog readers. Or just that I am awesome. Anyway, thanks again, Monty! Check out his blog, if you have a fetish for classic films.

I'm supposed to list seven facts about me, and I'll try to pick a few that aren't too obvious. It may be some repetition since I've done this before, but it was such a long, long time ago that I won't bother to check my old answers.

Then I will pass along this award to seven other bloggers, and let is spread like chlamydia. So here goes:

Some time between the age of 10, when I was deeply in love with Johnny Depp in Cry-Baby (who wasn't), and the age of 14 when I wanted to sexually assault Chico Marx every time he played the piano, I had a serious fling with $crooge McDuck. I can't find any word for that kind of infatuation, but I think I really was attracted to the idea of him being an older, wiser dude. With lots of money. Anyway, this little trivia brings the is-manga-pornography-debate to another level, I think.
I'm married to the most cynical, intelligent, entertaining (not necessarily haha-funny), non-jealous man that I could find that doesn't want to have kids. Too bad he wasn't rich too, though. But I think that's about to change - he's studying to work at the hospital. My Manolo Blahnik shoes are just around the corner! (That was haha-funny.)
My favorite stand-up comedians are Bill Hicks, Eddie Izzard, George Carlin, a couple of Swedish guys you won't care me to name and, recently, also Doug Stanhope. Apart from Izzard, I like my men bitter and broken. And of course, the occasional transvestite always liven things up.
I have a thing for taking pictures of dead animals. I don't kill them myself, mind you! But if I run across a dead pigeon that's had its gut ripped apart by crows, I just have to pick up my camera. The whole beauty of death thing, I think. Anyway, my camera is broken now, so I guess Allah was trying to tell me something about my hobbies.
I love Braindead (Peter Jackson, 1992), and in my humble opinion that was about the last good move Mr. Jackson did in his career. But money makes the world go 'round, and makes artistic souls cry blood.
I'm currently blowing out my brain through my nose. There is nothing as horrible as a bad cold, as any man would say while his wife gives birth.
I am a student and the Department of Cinema Studies at Stockholm University, and it makes me feel awesome.

Now to the nominations! Other stylish bloggers are:

Millie at classicforever

Darsh at Happyotter
Mykal at Radiation Cinema!
Avalon76 at Silent Stanzas
Jenny the Nipper at Cinema OCD
Matthew Coniam at The Marx Brothers Council of Britain
Kate Gabrielle at Discovering Dirk Bogarde

Keep up the good work!

United We Rise - Chaplin and the Jasmin Revolution

2011-03-20T10:53:00.001+01:00

Political art can be both beautiful and emotional, and this is a great example from the organization Peop1e.

Images that we recognize from the news the last couple of weeks are put together to the sound of Charlie Chaplin's final speech from The Great Dictator (1940), to an amazing effect.

Chaplin was then engaging the people to stand up against the Führer - now he is engaging them to stand up against all other dictators. This is beauty, and it proves that Chaplin knew what he was talking about. His speech is everlasting.

A contemporary view on The Birth of a Nation (1915)

2011-03-04T15:17:00.000+01:00

I applaud all projects that involve digitalization of media, whether it be old newspapers or audiovisual. Everyone should have the right to study history, as I argued in my previous post. Do you want to know what Rev. Dr. Charles H. Pankhurst had to say about D. W. Griffith's The Birth of a Nation in El Paso Herald (Texas) in 1916? Let's see!

[Do your own searching at Library of Congress. There you can find digitalized American newspapers from 1860 to 1922. Click on the "Search Pages" button, and write whatever you are looking for. I could sit there for hours.]

"A boy can learn more true history and get more of the atmosphere of the period by sitting down for three hours before the film which Mr. Griffith has produced with such artistic skill than by weeks and months of study in the classroom."

Well, about that... If I remember correctly, that film is not really historically correct? And wasn't it, if I'm not mistaken, kind of... racist? Dr. Pankhurst explains:

"The criticism that it exhibits the negro in an unfortunate light and that it is calculated to engender racial animosity is fully met by the consideration that it represents the negro, not as he is now at all, but as he was in the days when he had just had the chains broken from him and when he was rioting in the deliciousness of a liberty so new and untried that he had not yet learned to understand it and was as ignorant as a baby of the way to use it. It is in this respect exactly true to history, and if it reflects upon the negro as he was then it is a compliment to the black man of today."

Oh, I'm glad Dr. Pankhurst solved those misunderstandings! He has obviously also checked that all facts represented in the film corresponds with facts, since he claims that "[o]n Griffith's screen we see the real thing." Like he said before: schools should show this film when teaching about the Civil War!

And how did the audience react upon viewing this spectacle? Except for them being so excited that Dr. Pankhurst had "been crowded upon, pressed down and run over"?

"Every eye was dim with tears in the strangling hush that fell on the theater. What might not our country have been saved had the problem of reconstruction been left to the great heart - the one man who compassed within himself the resources of the intelligence, experience, breadth and sympathy of Abraham Lincoln!
'The Birth of a Nation' has my unqualified approval."

You can find Dr. Pankhurst's entire review here.

Jud Süss (1940)

2011-02-21T00:42:00.000+01:00

Jud Süß aka Jud Süss aka Jew Suess
Director: Veit Harlan
Germany 1940
98 min
Starring: Ferdinand Marian, Heinrich George, Kristina Söderbaum, Werner Krauss, Malte Jäger and Eugen Klöpfer, among others.

One of the most notorious anti-semitic propaganda movies of all time, Jud Süss. It was highly popular in Europe when it was released, 10 million Germans saw it and another 10 million in the rest of Europe, and it earned director Veit Harlan the 1943 Universum Film Archive award. Swedish actress Kristina Söderbaum (not one of our greatest national prides) was immensely popular, and remained that way for several years to come. Reichsführer of the SS, Heinrich Himmler, ordered all members of the SS and the police to watch the film.

Veit Harlan (right) and Ferdinand Marian's widow during a court case in 1948.

Then the war ended, and the view of Jud Süss took a 180 degree turn: Veit Harlan was twice charged of crimes against humanity, but was acquitted when claiming that he had just followed orders. The actor that played the title role, Ferdinand Marian, died in a traffic accident in August 1946. In September, Heinrich George, who played his highness Karl Alexander, died during an appendectomy in a Soviet concentration camp. Veit Harlan died in his home in Capri, Italy - his wife Kristina Söderbaum died in Germany 2001. Two of Veit Harlan's daughter changed their last name when going for acting careers.

Now the sale of Jud Süss on DVD is prohibited in Germany, France, Italy and Austria. The copyright holders, the Friedrich-Wilhelm-Murnau Foundation, only allows screenings in explanatory contexts, such as in school for educational purposes or in museum exhibitions.

Now it's only natural to become curious. What, indeed, can be so upsetting about this film to cause such controversy? A lot, I realized after watching it. If one were to delete all Jewish references, keep all characters religion/race/whatever neutral - if it would have just been regular good vs. bad guys - this would have been a pretty decent film, and masterfully filmed too. And that's exactly what is most upsetting about the film - it having such appealing qualities while being an anti-Semite campaign on its own. There were obviously dire consequences to the showing of, and acceptance of, this film - to the vast disadvantage of the already vulnerable Jewish community - but to what extent we will never know. However, we should look closely on this film for that very reason. (I think it's insane that it's banned in some countries. Everyone should have access to history and learn from it.)

Yes, Jud Süss is actually based on history. Vaguely. Joseph Süss Oppenheimer was a Jewish banker and financial planner for Duke Karl Alexander of Württenberg in Stuttgart (taken directly from Wikipedia) in southern Germany. Being a powerful man who had a great influence on the Duke he made a lot of enemies, and when the Duke died he was charged for a hell of a lot of crimes (probably were some of them taken from thin air, who knows). He was executed in 1738 and left to hang in a cage for six years. You know, to set an example to anyone who may have planned to make a similar career choice.

However, when Nazi Germany were to interpret the story, Süss Oppenheimer was made into a greedy, sneaky, filthy, megalomaniac of a man with a taste for groping innocent Aryan women. The story seems to rather be based on The Protocols of the Elders of Zion rather than either the 1827 novella or the 1925 novel. Interestingly enough, the Brits made a film adaption in 1934, Jew Süss with Conrad Veidt in the title role, and that film is instead condemning anti-Semitism.

The best way to give an idea of what a film is like is to offer a lot of screenshots, dialog and a brief explanation of the plot. As for how bizarre this film is, I am confident that my readers are intelligent enough to understand that without me adding a lot of obvious comments. I'll just add a few here and there where it feels fun to.

We begin with Karl Alexander undertaking an oath to serve his country and his people. Then we cut to the romantic couple of the day, Dorothea Sturm (Söderbaum) and Faber (Jäger), playing and singing at the piano, naïvely oblivious to what horrors are yet to come with the introduction of the next character: Süss Oppenheimer. He is introduced as a wealthy man living in a Jewish neighborhood (I bet there were a lot of those left in Germany anno 1940).

After showing off some pearls and other riches, and making sly facial expressions, we understand that Süss is planning to manipulate his way to power by making the Duke rich. And if you ever wondered how Jews look like when villainously chatting about strategies to achieve money and power, according to this film they look like this:

Süss shaves off his beard and dress a little more fashionably. But when Faber first sets his eyes on Süss, he instinctively knows that he is but a Jew in disguise.

But of course, the Duke can set that whole Jew-thing aside, as long as he gets riches. As a nice little fade from a pile of gold coins to dancing girls at a ball illustrates:

Ta-daa! The Jew gold turned into something physical that the fat, old Duke loves. That's the charm with propaganda: keep it simple and clear, then you'll get your message through.

Soon of course, the Duke is in debt to Jew Süss. Being a kind soul, Süss offers a way out of his debt: He wants the authority to maintain the roads of and bridges of Württenberg for 10 years. He adds tolls and taxes for their use, and a percentage of those incomes goes directly to the Duke. Greed and pride wins, and Oppenheimer gains authority on the cost of the hard working citizens. This will eventually anger enough people to demand the deportation of Oppenheimer.

One could write a 30 page assignment on this film and everything that is thwarted with it. However, I believe in the power of images. Let's move to the decadence aspect of the "Jud Süss problem" - he introduces ballets, parties and gambling, and a lot of young girls. At one point he introduces the Duke to a couple of ladies that are "not yet 18".

Süss Oppenheimer himself has however fixed his eyes on the pure, innocent and blonde Dorothea Sturm. Here comes screenshots of his seduction, which she manages to flee from. Later on in the film (see film clip), he extorts her into exchanging sex for the freedom of her now husband Faber and her father.

Now, Kristina Söderbaum was famous for her many drownings in film, and was therefore nicknamed "The Water Corpse", or Reichswasserleiche ("Drowned Girl of the Reich"). So of course, that's the way Dorothea reacts when Süss has raped her. (In my opinion, I actually thinks it looks like she longs for his passion too, but I might be over thinking things.)

This is it for the people of Württemberg. Coincidentally, the Duke has a heart attack and dies. All there is to do now to form a posse and catch Süss for execution in front of the whole town. The film ends with the banning of Jews being reinforced, and the exclamation that it will remain that way.

The last scene is, regrettably, pretty awesome cinematically. The camera moves around, zooming in and zooming out. The scene takes place outside in the snow, the camera cuts between different angles in pace with Süss' pleads for mercy.

It looks really good. And, as I stated before, it's quite problematic that it does. It's hard to comment on a film like this. It's like trying to decide whether or not Hitler was a good painter, or if Kim Jong Il has a good taste in clothes. Okay, the latter one may not be so hard to decide, after all. Anyway, I hope this post gave something to those of you who haven't had a chance to see the film. But to it, if you do get the opportunity. One can't fully comprehend the mentality behind propaganda films if one never sees one.

I can recommend the documentary Harlan - In the Shadow of Jew Suess (Feliz Moeller, 2008), which tries to explore what the hell that man Veit Harlan and that woman Kristina Söderbaum were thinking when contributing to a film like this. It features mostly interviews with Veit Harlan's children and grandchildren, who reflect about how Jud Süss has affected their lives, and completes their stories with home movies Veit Harlan made.

Picture Galore: Random Cool Pics

2011-02-17T08:10:00.000+01:00

Alfred Hitchcock turning his back on MGM. (Hitchcock may also be backing into the lot.)

Alfred Hitchcock and what I suppose is the (or "an") MGM lion.

Akira Kurosawa and Francis Ford Coppola. Coppola believed in Kurosawa's 1980 samurai epic, Kagemusha, and was a co-producer

Anthony Perkins, Audrey Hepburn, a beer bottle and a Roe Deer fawn. Anyone dare to guess what/why/where the hell this is?

Bill Murray on the set of Where the Buffalo Roam (Art Linson, 1980), in which he plays the eccentric journalist Hunter S. Thompson. See next picture.

Hunter S. Thompson. My guess is that this photo was taken some time before he blew his brains out.

Charlie Chaplin and his inspiration, the French comedian Max Linder.

Ernest Hemingway. My guess is that this photo was taken some time before he blew his brains out. I guess it's just the author way of saying good bye.

Jack Nicholson, Candice Bergen and Art Garfunkel, probably during the filming of Carnal Knowledge (Mike Nichols, 1971) - a film I bought on DVD for the only reason that I was in love with Garfunkel at the time.

Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki - a real but slightly unreal character.

Tura Satana (1938-2011)

2011-02-07T23:34:00.000+01:00

If I ever decide to star in campy exploitation films, I'll sure do my best to become a disciple of Tura Satana. She's one ice cold, voluptuous femme fatale who twisted both mind and limbs of male characters in questionable films of the 1960's. She has now, sadly, followed the trend of this year and kicked the bucket like other actors and actresses I've loved.

[Around New Years Eve the man responsible for Sweden's first television nude shock in 1962, and responsible for a hell of a lot of great film characters in collaboration with among others Ingmar Bergman, died with his wife in a house fire. R.I.P Per Oscarsson. Then the celebrated Swedish actress Lena Nyman, who gave Americans a nude shock in I Am Curious (Yellow) in 1967, died in February 4th. May your slightly intoxicated soul rest in peace, too. I should also mention Maria Schneider, who died February 3rd. She deserves credit since she stuck her fingers up Marlon Brando's bum in Last Tango in Paris 1972, and never was remembered for anything else.]

Back to the lovely Japanese American destroyer of men - Tura Satana, who died February 4th at the age of 72. She's most famous for her character Varla in Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (Russ Meyer, 1965), and rightfully so. There is something severely wrong with a person who does not get willfully seduced by her evil stare, her husky voice and brutal ninja chops. The scene below is my favorite from that totally awesome movie (I give up on my poor tries at academic language - it is simply a totally awesome movie). Watch her break the neck of that cocky guy!

- You've got a weird sense of humor!

- Try again, I get funnier!

Oh, would Joseph Breen and the guys choke on their coffee dipped donuts if they'd have seen this! Perhaps he did, he died the year the film was released. Hmm...

Well, apart from this glorious piece of cinematic joy, Satana also appeared in films like The Astro-Zombies (Ted V. Mikels, 1968), which is not to be confused with Federico Fellini's La Dolce Vita. I found a YouTube clip where some Satana fan has pasted together clips from her scenes in the film to the tunes of Swedish band The Cardigans. Look at that wardrobe. Look at her cruelty! Look at her body.

The lovely thing about Tura Satana is that she is so conscious of the corniness of the films and her lines, which in fact make the whole thing... awesome. Or to elaborate: according to universal studies it makes her acting sincere and humorous. I suggest you read up on her life, it's pretty fascinating. If all is true is irrelevant, in my humble opinion. Or "irrelephant", as Chico Marx would say.

Don't blame me for writing a weird post. I'm drinking whiskey on a Monday night. You do the math.

Anyway. We will miss you, Satana. The Divine Miss J and I, at least. This calls for a girls night with me, you, Varla and mojitos.

Ernst Lubitsch in Berlin - Von der Schönhauser Allee nach Hollywood (2006)

2011-01-25T12:35:00.000+01:00

Ernst Lubitsch in Berlin - Von der Schönhauser Allee nach Hollywood
Director: Robert Fischer
Germany 2006
110 min
Including: Lots of Lubitsch!

I thought I could recommend a documentary on the peculiar but brilliant German director Ernst Lubitsch, who made his most famous and celebrated pictures in Hollywood, of course. However, this documentary focuses on his early years, from how he got into the film making business through acting to his subsequent move/upgrade (?) to Hollywood.

While still being an actor, Ernst Lubitsch poses beside a film poster for The Pride of the Firm (1916).

Although it's not the most engaging documentary, it's pretty clever in it's use of archive footage and scenes from Lubitsch's early works to tell the story of his early career. If one ignores the dry-as-sand film professors (I really have to get my career going so I can liven up the place), other storytellers like Lubitsch's daughter, niece and granddaughter are very entertaining and genuine.

Ernst Lubitsch as actor/comedian in unnamed German short film.

I'll just throw out some screenshots, and you can make your own decision whether to look this documentary up or not - but I recommend it to anyone interested in film history! And how can a German Jew with Russian heritage going Hollywood not be a great subject for a documentary?

Ossi Oswalda, "the German Mary Pickford", starred in several Lubitsch films.

This is a good example of the documentary's great use of film material while explaining the personal style of Lubitsch's film. The first scene, or prologue, of his film The Doll (Die Puppe, 1919) begins with the director picking up pieces of scenery from a box, and starts to assemble what will be the set for the film to come.

Also, the documentary uses the voice of frequent Lubitsch actor Emil Jannings' son to articulate Jannings' impressions on working with the director:

The "spendthrift, glutton and diplomat, that tyrant" is Jannings' description of Henry XIII in Anna Boleyn (1920), pictured above. An audio interview with actress Henny Porten (playing Boleyn) is also used to accompany still pictures and film fragments:

And of course, Pola Negri. In Carmen (1918, screenshot) and Madame DuBarry (in USA released as Passion, 1919, production still):

Hitchcock's fascination with fecal matter

2011-01-11T15:32:00.000+01:00

The evil genius with a diabolical imagination, Alfred Hitchcock. Filthy man.

Picture spam posts may be fun and all, but I know that my dear readers crave intellectually stimulating posts every now and then. With my home exam over with and my blasted cold on retreat, I think I am ready to dig into the scatological mind of Alfred Hitchcock. Well, at least dig into the sick minds of some film analytics. I will get to my opinion about them later on. I'm ready now, Mr. DeMille - but are you?

Film analyses can be really interesting to read. Those written by film scholars may sometimes be ridiculous, but still interesting and thought provoking. Other analyses can be really ridiculous and rather laughter provoking. When it comes to Hitchcock, it's well known that he loved food, hated eggs, was fascinated by birds and had a tendency to include bathrooms in his films. (See pictures below for examples.)

But there are people out there, in the dark, that are analyzing these elements like crazy, to the point where it's not fun anymore. Then they dig even deeper, and it's suddenly becomes hilarious. In a frustrating and sad way.

Bathroom in North by Northwest (1959).

Bathroom in Psycho (1960).

Disgusting-looking eggs in To Catch a Thief (1955).

Disgusting-looking eggs in Frenzy (1972).

One such text I read during my last course (I am certain that my professor threw it in as a joke, or at least I wish that he did) is the essay "The Diabolical Imagination: Hitchcock, Bakhtin, and the Carnivalization of Cinema" by David Sterritt. (From the book Framing Hitchcock, which indeed they seem to do.) If we ignore the fact that the writer seems to have thrown in Mikhail Bakhtin's name, "a Russian-Soviet literary philosopher", for us to hopefully take him seriously (in the same manner that he writes "ouvre" instead of art, work, creation or other normal words), the title sounds interesting enough. I will have to cite the text at moments for you to believe me, I am not making this up. Sigh. Where to begin?

Sterritt begins with explaining that in his analysis Bakhtin's important concept of "carnivalization, the deployment of a festive, parodic often grotesque, ultimately subversive vision of the world" will be central. (Funny, those are the words I might use to describe this very text.)

Anyway, he goes on describing the tired picture of Hitchcock as a decadent maniac who loves to have really bizarre, almost campy, elements in his film. I agree with the last part, but Hitchcock's personality is really not interesting to me when analyzing his films. But that's just me, I guess.

Now, to the juicy stuff! When claiming that Hitchcock loves these film elements that "can be seen as deliberate carnivalizing gestures aimed at reveling in grotesquerie", he rightfully thinks he should come up with a few examples. He begins by slaughtering Rope (1948). Remember that one? It's one of my favorite Hitchcock films, taking place in one apartment only and made to look like it's filmed in one uninterrupted shot. However, at that time they had to change reels every now and then, so they had to conceal the cuts. More about that later. The plot revolves around two young men who are obsessed by the idea of the perfect murder. They strangle a friend, with a rope of course, and hides his body in a chest, on which they serve food for coming guests who all know the victim.¨

Sterritt has decided to molest that film. To be even more high-brow than just referring to a Russian philosopher, Sterritt now brings up Rabelais, a French renaissance writer. We need not go into detail about this (since it's ridiculous), but Sterritt kindly tells us that "[t]he seven series in Rabelais' novel are those of 'the human body in its anatomical and physiological aspects,' clothing, food, drink and drunkenness, the sexual or copulatory, death, and defecation." Yes, we can all agree that all those seven ingredients are the human life, if we are to be factual. Although we ladies never poop, of course. Otherwise, correct. But what about Rope?

Well, according to Sterritt, all those ingredients are visualized in one way or another in Rope. Let's start with the most trivial stuff. "The least important is the clothing series, although even here one may observe the irony of the socially 'correct' clothing worn by the murderers [...]", and of course the thing with the hat. Won't spoil to those who may not have seen the film. Alcohol is served at the party, and weaken the nerves of one of the murderers. With the boring stuff over with, let's move on!

Socially correct clothes worn my the murderers, left and right. About as socially correct as any 1940's/1950's man with a suit. What an irony. Duh.

Drink and drunkenness.

Rabelais' anatomical/physiological human body series is visualized by the close-up of a man dying and his corpse. Dinner is served upon the chest containing the body, "and people will eat while discussing the victim's activities and personality". One of those bizarre Hitchcock situations I referred to earlier. I agree this far, but then Sterritt insults all gay people by writing this: "The men who killed him and provided the dinner are apparently meant to be homosexuals [true] (the sex series) and their murderousness as a metonymic extension of gay perversity."

Huh? Why, oh why, did he write such a thing? Murderers can not be gay without their murderousness being somehow related to their sexuality, or what? I have no words to counter this. But don't worry, it gets worse!

A close-up of a man dying, the anatomical/physiological aspect...

... food...

... and homosexuals.

But Lolita! Where are the excrements you promised? Well, here we go. The following sentence is so bizarre that I will have to cut it up. I do it for your sanity.

Sterritt starts by mentioning that "[t]he defecation series makes its appearance most subtly[...]". Oh, really. We will just have to look close enough, we know it's there! He continues the sentence: "[...] through anal implications that may be drawn from the murderers' homosexuality [...]" I have to cut that sentence again to catch my breath. Have you caught yours? Okay, going on: "[...] and through what may be the film's most discussed and least-understood mechanism: the 'hidden' splices that link the film's long takes on several occasions [...]" Again, stop the sentence! I guess Hitchcock didn't just splice up his film because it at the time was technically impossible to film in one entire shot, right? He has to have had a hidden agenda, right? I mean, "hidden" agenda. Phew... Now the last part of the sentence. "[...] most frequently by traveling into an extreme close-up of a male character's backside."

Did you get that? The fact that the splices are, as Sterritt puts it, "hidden" by having the camera zoom into a dark area, often while passing a character and making the cut with the camera lens blacked out, is a metaphor for traveling up the characters' asses. Do you want to read the sentence again, now in its entirety? Ready? Voilà:

The defecation series makes it's appearance most subtly, through anal implications that may be drawn from the murderers' homosexuality and through what may be the film's most-discussed and least-understood mechanism: the "hidden" splices that link the film's long takes on several occasions, most frequently by traveling into an extreme close-up of a male character's backside.

He also points out that the two murderers kill their victim from behind, and then discuss how they "felt" when his body "went limp". He also links homosexuality and death in some far-fetched way. Sigh.

Talking about the wonderful feeling of killing just for the sake of it.

Oh, backsides! Anal implications!

Here, the defecation series reveal itself at 11:33 in Rope! What, don't you see it? No poop...? You have no imagination!

I can't believe I've made it this far. And I won't argue this, it's impossible for me to sink to that level of absurdity. I never thought that was possible... And I haven't even come to Sterritt's view of Psycho (1960) yet. Psycho is, in Sterritt's words, "the lower-bodily-stratum film par excellence of Hitchcock's career". Don't pretend you did not notice that yourselves.

Hear, hear! The brilliant deductions of David Sterritt! "Psycho is largely about anal activity, treated metaphorically, and its first symbol for excrement is money - specifically the forty-thousand dollars produced in the real-estate office by a childish (anal-sadistic) client who obnoxiously shows off what he has 'made'."

Oh, please! Don't bring fucking Freud into this mess, too... Did I mention that Freud is the holy god of analytics?

Look, he's even pointing downwards. Clear as day. That's anal implications if anything.

Sterritt points out that the dialogue in Psycho "conjures up the lower bodily-stratum", since words like "irregular" and "private" enter the conversation. I am deadly serious, that's one of his arguments. After Marion Crane has stolen the money and leaves town in a car, she hears voices in her head of what she thinks people may be saying now. One of the lines are "She sat there while I dumped it out." That line, of course, backs up Sterritt's theory.

My favorite part of the poop fest that is this analysis of Psycho is the license plate discussion. I'm sure you all thought about that, huh? "During the same portion of the film we see (in close-up) the license plate of her original car: ANL-709, the letters virtually spelling out the film's most important symbolic key." Sterritt even goes as far as to claim that that moment "confirms the suggestions of lower-bodily preoccupation that have preceded it." My only comment to that is that if Hitchcock noticed that ANL is "anal" with a letter missing, he probably just thought it was funny and didn't mean anything more with it. But my thoughts are so boring compared to Sterritt's!

By the way: the close-up of the license plate and the line about the dumping is not in the same scene. I double checked. The line is said when she is driving another car. Sterritt got owned!

But he doesn't stop with one license plate, oh no! You see, Marion Crane changes cars later on. The new license plate reads NFB-418. Oh, what to do with those letters... Ah, of course! N and B stands for Norman Bates, and the F stands "perhaps for Female". Perhaps? I'm disappointed, I thought he was going to say F for Feces...

Of course there are also references to menstruation. Norman does indeed at one time cry out "Mother... Blood! Blood!", which, according to Sterritt, "reminds us that much of Psycho can be read menstrually as well as excrementally", continuing with "and the imposing presence of the phallic shower head during much of the murder scene."

SIGH.

"Mother! Mother! Oh God... Mother! Blood! Blood!"

"Phallic shower head"? I think Sterritt should let a doctor take a look at his private parts...

No. I give up now. He goes on with The Birds (1963), too. But you get the point. You probably got more points than you wanted. Now, what did I get out of doing this summary of the most ridiculous analysis ever? (That includes the raging feminist Laura Mulvey's talk about castration complexes.)

Well, I now know that while my husband studies to be something useful, I will continue studying dopey texts until I myself become a dopey film professor that can write dopey film analyses. And then, one day, I may meet this David Sterritt and hit him over the head with a hammer. A hammer coated with a weeks worth of feces.

Picture Galore: Getting Close

2010-12-16T14:56:00.000+01:00

Being in a mad mood, I tried cheering myself up by hunting for celebrity pictures of the more personal sort. I found a couple of new ones I had not seen before, some of them apparently shot by Yul Brynner. (I say "apparently", since I have trouble finding the sources of the photographs and I am damaged by university studies.)

Here are some of my finds. They actually got me into a slightly better mood.

Audrey Hepburn by Yul Brynner.

Audrey Hepburn.

Ava Gardner.

Buster Keaton.

Clark Gable, Cary Grant, Bob Hope and David Niven.

Clark Gable and Marilyn Monroe.

Deborah Kerr by Yul Brynner.

Elizabeth Taylor.

Frank Sinatra and Grace Kelly.

Grace Kelly by Yul Brynner.

Gregory Peck.

Ingrid Bergman by Yul Brynner.

James Dean and Elizabeth Taylor.

Jean Simmons and Marlon Brando.

Marilyn Monroe.

Mia Farrow by Yul Brynner.

Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward.

Rock Hudson and Doris Day.

Sophia Loren.

Pictures Galore: Paul Newman

2010-12-13T20:58:00.000+01:00

Okay, back to safe old Hollywood. I guess far away countries like Senegal and Australia didn't make any interesting contributions to film history, so I will add some sexy photos of Paul Newman instead. Enjoy! All pictures except the first one have high resolution, so save on.

And congratulations to myself for 300 registered blog followers. Sweet!

And, sexiest of them all:

Black Girl (1966)

2010-12-06T09:41:00.001+01:00

La noire de...
Director: Ousmane Sembène
France/Senegal
55-65 min
Starring: Mbissine Thérèse Diop, Anne-Marie Jelinek and Robert Fontaine, among others.

I really enjoyed the Christmas food discussions in the comment section of my last post! Thank you, readers. I had no idea it could differ that much from one side of the world to the other.

And from one side of the world to another, that's where the protagonist of Ousmane Sembene's Black Girl goes (yes, that was a lame transition, but I blame it on the brisk Christmas spirit that has annexed my soul). The film, which original French title translates as "The Black Girl of...", is an obvious but subtle and artistic reminder of colonialism, post-colonial identity, racism and slavery.

[It's so fun reading the forums on IMDb: someone was angry because the main character once says that she feels like a slave (or is a slave, I don't remember exactly), when she actually gets paid for her work. Well, dear stupid, you can get all the money in the world and still be treated as a slave. It's about the loss of dignity and respect. Duh.]

Black Girl is considered the first feature length film of a Sub-Saharan director (Senegal), which is pretty shocking considering it was made in 1966. The year my mother was born was the year of the first indigenous Senegalese picture. Well, France didn't recognize the independence of Senegal until 1960, so what is one to expect. Obviously the French Film Bureau tried to get in the way of this film being made, and later purchased its exhibition rights. It seems they put the scissors to work on the negatives too - the film is only one hour long, and I read about a missing color sequence.

"The black girl" is a Senegalese woman named Diouanna, and she is also the only character with a name in the film. She arrives full of expectations in France to work as a bay sitter for a French family, but is soon faced with the fact that she is just a common maid. She tries to keep some sense of worthiness by dressing up, wearing high heels and jewelry, while being treated as a dumb slave. Naturally, the lack of respect from her "masters" drives her into a depression, further nurturing the stereotype of "the lazy coon". She stops wearing her pretty clothes or doing her hair. Eventually Diouanna, who has only seen the walls of the very apartment where she works of the Western world she hopes to discover, is driven to suicide. This is mentioned in a little notice in the newspaper.

[As others before me, I feel that spoiling the end has any impact what so ever on the viewing experience. It's not that kind of film. The original short story (written by Sembene himself) began with a black maid's suicide, then unfolding the events leading up to it - apparently it was just a short notice of a similar accident reported in a newspaper that inspired Sembene to write it in the first place.]

Diouanna narrates the film in French, like an inner monologue. She keeps angrily reassuring herself that she is not a maid, while cleaning the floors in complete 1960's polka dot outfit worthy of Audrey Hepburn. The narration makes the behaviour of some house guests bizarre, who seem to take for granted that she can't speak French. The hostess and her guests arrive at the explanation that Diouanna does not speak French, but can understand it instinctively "comme un animal" ("like an animal"). Diouanna keeps silent and pours up coffee for the guests.

One noted interesting aspect of the film is the fact that Diouanna's motives for coming to France are purely shallow - she keeps repeating to herself what she believes that those back in Dakar (the capital of Senegal) thinks of her, and how envious they are of her opportunity to come to France. However, as the psychological abuse continues those thoughts seem more and more tragic. At one time she inspects an African mask she gave her employers on the first day of work, that looks strangely out of place on the blank white wall:

As is apparent from the screenshots, Sembène has played with stark contrasts in the visual narrative. Black against white all the time, and that is not just because the film is in black and white. Diouanna wears a white dress with black polka dots, a black African mask against a clean white wall, floors striped in black and white, a whiskey with the lable "Black and White"... I could go on. It is in any way both aesthetically appealing and a clear metaphor for the theme of the film.

The whole film is full of symbols and metaphors, like the flashback scene where Diouanna gets her job as a maid. Women looking for a job are gathered in the street, while the future employer walk back and forth eying them - it all resembles a slave market. Another symbolic scene is with Diouanna skipping barefoot over a colonialist war memorial in Dakar - much to her boyfriend's dismay.

I can also mention Diouanna's hot politically active boyfriend in the flashback scenes. (See screenshot - Damn! More bare chested men, please.). Some inside information: the man on the wall of his room is nationalist hero Patrice Lumumba, and the school teacher with the pipe in Dakar is Sembène himself.

As for the white characters, none are actually demonized in any way, and that is probably the most effective part of this movie. (All actors are non-professional, by the way. Most only have one film listed at IMDb. Pretty admirable performances, considering that.) As vicious as the wife may seem, she actually seems mentally ill. She smokes frustratingly and seems to get something out of treating Diouanna more and more inhumane, which makes her look more pathetic and in need of help than demonic.

The saddest character, apart from Diouanna, is the oblivious husband. He has a drinking problem and seems to think that money solves everything. At least that is the only solution to a sad maid that he can find. He does not realize how his actions are condescending and paternalistic, only trying to do right.

The worst moment of his good intentions degrading Diouanna is when she receives a letter from her mother. As she is illiterate, the husband offers to read it to her. The letter shows to include mostly reprimands about her not sending money home - a humiliating moment the husband obliviously turns to the worse by starting to write a response letter for Diouanna.

When Diouanna has committed suicide, he understands that the right thing to do is probably to visit her mother in Senegal. He does however not understand what to do when he has arrived, and tried to give Diouanna's mother money. Although she probably needs the money, she shakes her head and denies what is probably understood as a payment for guilt. He returns home, and the last pictures of the film shows a little boy looking into the camera, literally unmasking his face. Such symbolism.

I liked the film, by the way. Watch it if you get the chance.

Light a candle

2010-11-27T11:22:00.001+01:00

Marilyn Monroe blowing out a candle. Duh.

Tomorrow it is the first Sunday of Advent, which sounds more religious than it probably is experienced among all families lighting the first out of four candles before Christmas. It's not like everyone is looking forward to honor the birth of Christ - we just want our damn Christmas presents. And gingerbread cakes, glögg and saffron buns. What do Americans eat at Christmas, anyway? I can't imagine a Christmas without glögg. Mmm.

Anyway, Christmas is soon here! And I will spend it studying, obviously. In fact, I am avoiding my studies this very moment.

My next post will be on what is considered the first feature film in the African film industry - Ousmane Sembène's Black Girl (La noire de..., 1966). It's fascinating how some film industries didn't emerge until 70 years after others... Wonder what caused that. *clearing throat, silently pointing towards my last post*

Okay that might be to simplify matters slightly. But the fact remains that Sembène wouldn't have been able to make this film if the Film Bureau created by the French de Gaulle government's Ministry of Cooperation in 1963, had gotten what they wanted. Instead they wound up purchasing the distribution rights to the film. Oh no, there was no European hegemony still in the 1960's...

Well then. Off to write another examination. I have no time for my blog nowadays.

Clara Bow in nighties that I desperately want for Christmas.

The Strong, White Man vs. The Rest

2010-11-11T13:25:00.002+01:00

Safari filmmakers Martin and Osa Johnson, 1920's.

Hey, I have a blog. Cool. And hey, I have not been kidnapped and/or murdered. I have just been devoured alive by 100 year old missionaries, wanting me to praise them for their pure soul and compassion with the uncivilized darkies in the deep jungles of Africa.

Missionary with Congolese children, early 1900's. No hegemony at all.

Well, at least that was the subject in school the last few weeks, and interesting as it was I have been absent from the blog, the social network, my mother, my husband and my life in general. So sue me. At least I have gathered some cool pictures that wouldn't fit in my power point presentation at school, so enjoy the power of the white man!

Hey, can't gather enough rubber for our car factories? "Off with their hands!"

And just to be clear: away with their wives and children, too.
See Belgian Congo, under the rule of Leopold II.

This subject has something to do with the film industry, of course. As white men colonized the African continent in the 19th century, the pure hearted missionaries around the world heard about these wild, unenlightened people of the filthy jungles, and felt a need to Christen them.

Since most missionaries thought that the world is soon to end, they were flabbergasted by the amount of people not ever having heard of the Holy Bible. Saints as they were, they left their families and children at home and sent out to cure people of their otherness.

Rwanda, probably 1920's.

"Interesting thing that natives from other countries can show their breasts and genitals all they want in photographs and in films, but we normal people just get censored. I bet it's because animals have no concept of moral". - A quote I just made up

Now, of course the people at home had to know what good deeds the missionaries were doing in Otherland in order to raise money for the missions (Swedish missionaries were often in Congo, for example), they sent home photographs showing the process. The Swedish missionaries even co-operated with the ethnographic museum in Stockholm, sending confiscated wooden gods ("the Negro can worship almost anything", as someone said) to the museum. In return, the indigenous people got some mass-produced western items. Mass-baptism, Bible studies and the burning of traditional relics were just another thing to do between tea breaks.

Before makover: Look at all those weird masks!

And weapons everywhere, bloodthirsty beasts!

Martin and Osa Johnsson, 1920's.

Ta-daa! They can almost look like normal people. At least when dressed in proper clothes and lined up in pretty rows. And with the essential presence of their European masters, signaling that they are not dangerous savages anymore.

Congo, early 1900's.

And then came the film medium! How effective a way to record the strangeness of the wild people it was. Now the entertainment industry caught up with how cool it was to go to Africa and abuse natives. Of course, people had gone to Africa to kidnap interesting looking natives for a long time. They were exhibited alive (see Hottentot Venus) at World's Fairs (quite common into the 1940's, actually), and whole native villages were re-constructed for the civilized West to point sticks at.

The white man conquering the wild nature!

"Oh, I actually needed some elephant tusks for my new piano. Extraordinary."

Theodore Roosevelt somewhere in Africa, ca 1909.

Now the film medium would make it even easier for people to become fascinated by the weirdness of strange cultures. Often the films were accompanied by a story teller, or even an entertainer dressed in the indigenous culture's clothes, and entertainment was far more important than accurate information. See the following Pathé Frères picture Roosevelt in Africa (1910). At about 3:02 you see the intertitle "Zulu women at spring". Nothing weird about that, except that Roosevelt was nowhere near South Africa at the time and that the women in the video are probably Masai. But hey, most people have heard about the wild Zulu's, it sells better. After the "Zulu women", there is a lovely little native rain dance. Not at all constructed.

Well, the Americans had their part in these kind of actions, too. (As though you didn't know.) While Europeans colonized Africa, Americans did their best to either kill or civilize the Native Americans. Native American schools were founded in the 1870's. A quote by the adorable founder of them, Herny Pratt, goes as follows: "If the Native Americans had been better at English, it would have been easier for them to protect their interests." I'm paraphrasing, since the quote I found was translated to Swedish, but the idiocy of the quote is the same. You know, if those damn Congolese beasts had been better at Swedish/German/English/French/other-civilized-languages, they would have been able to defend their countries! That's poetic justice, for ya!

German missionaries in Tanzania, ca. 1905.

"It's your fault you didn't have any dictionaries in this country. And we had a flag."

But at least the film medium was used to protect the indigenous cultures from dying out entirely. (Yes, that's exactly what people claimed back then. "Okay, it's probably not that nice to extinguish their cultural identity, but at least we record their strange rituals for their grand-grand-grandchildren to watch!")

Below I have an example from Edison Studios, called the "Buffalo Dance" (1894). Filmed in the legendary Black Maria Studio! Very realistic and worthy, indeed. With a stationary camera, they have to dance around in such small circles that they collide. But to finish this post off, you can see the results of the Native American School below the video. Ah, aren't we white people just saints?

After going to Native American School:

We let the woman keep her pipe. We'll just steal it later for museum exhibition.

(Red Dog, Lizzie Glode och Lucy Day, 1878-1918)

Nargis (1929-1981) and Mother India (1957)

2010-10-25T20:43:00.001+02:00

Nargis with screen love Raj Kapoor.

A short entry about the probably most famous (and best - and beautiful) actress of Hindi cinema, Nargis. She was born in Calcutta, India and made her film debut as a child in a little film called Talashe Haq (1935, does not seem like there's much information about it), and again as a 13 year old in another obscure film called Tamanna (1942).

However, Raj Kapoor entered her life with his pencil mustache, and the two became an unbelievably popular silver screen couple in India. If you get the chance, see Awaara (The Vagabond, 1951) - it's a lovely, easily watchable and entertaining film directed by co-star Raj Kapoor. Apparently, Nargis and Kapoor's on-screen romance was not only make-believe, but we all know how neighbors chatter.

Nargis and Raj Kapoor in Awaara.

Nargis and Raj Kapoor in Shree 420 (1955).

Nargis appeared in many Indian films, until the three hour epic Mother India (1957). There she met her co-star Sunil Dutt, and fell in love with him after having been rescued by him from a fire that broke loose on the set. Heroic and romantic! After Mother India and becoming Mrs. Nargis Dutt, she did not appear in many more films. She died of pancreatic cancer in Bombay, India in 1981.

Nargis, Sunil Dutt and children.

Dutt plays her son in the film, but they are the same age. I watched Mother India in school today, and it's easy to understand why it is called the "Indian Gone With the Wind". We follow a young woman, Radha (Nargis), from the day she gets married until she has grandchildren and then some. Like Gone With the Wind portrayed the harsh life during the Civil War, Mother India shows the hardships of farming, raising children, failed crops and dying children. And an egoistic (but handsome) husband, who after losing both his arms in an accident walks out on his family out of humiliation. Radha is left to care for her three children by herself, and suck up to an evil moneylender that takes advantage of the poor farmers' illiteracy.

As Radha in Mother India.

I had to process the film for a few hours before I could say that it was quite amazing. It was a big deal when it was made too, and it was nominated for an Academy Award in the Best Foreign Film category.

However, there are some strange cuts in the film, that I can't explain. It was the same with Awaara, but that one had been brutally cut by some nutty American that obviously did not see the film before he handled the scissors. In the case of Mother India, I have to either believe that 1) They did not think continuity editing was that important in Indian cinema, 2) The copy was damaged and pieced together best they could, or 3) Another nutty editor should be relieved of his cutting duties.

There is also the culture clash that makes it hard for me to adjust to the thing where they throw in songs in deeply depressing scenes, but I am willing to try to get used to it. For some reason, the songs are seldom bad. They're quite pleasant, actually.

Back to studying!

Sweetie (1989)

2010-10-17T15:10:00.000+02:00

Sweetie
Director: Jane Campion
Australia 1989
97 min
Starring: Karen Colston, Geneviève Lemon, Tom Lycos and Michael Lake, among others.

Opening shots.

Once again, I have been happily surprised by a film I had neither heard of nor intended to see. Sweetie is Piano (1993) director Jane Campion's feature film debut, and a popular analyzing subject among feminist film scholars. It was filmed in New South Wales in Australia, and for some reason not a hit at the box office. But being a non-mainstream film that couldn't care less about classic narration, it might just be understandable.

The sign followed by gentle love making.

The film centers around a peculiar woman named Kay (Colston) and the more or less socially retarded people around her. In the beginning of the film an elder woman tells her fortune in tea leaves, telling her that an influential man with a question mark in his face will be the love of her life. Kay finds him at work, recently engaged to a female co-worker, and somehow manages to convince him to go with her instead. You know, the spirits and the flipping of coins tell them so. They make out in a garage and then stay together.

The man, Louis (Lycos in his only film role) and Kay move in together, but their relationship starts failing. He romantically plants a tree in their garden, "an anniversary tree", but Kay has nightmares about it. She rips it from the ground and stuffs it into a closet.

Co-workers showing their dislike, and the unexpected visit from a crazy sister.

Thus far, everything strange with this movie is highly comical in a dark way, but when Kay's mentally disturbed sister breaks into her house with a drugged producer (Lemon and Lake as Sweetie and Bob) the film starts to dig into a deeply dysfunctional family. What lies in their past is only hinted in subtle actions and reactions, and as we meet the sisters' parents there is no doubt that something is not right.

Still, the ruthless humor remains and is accompanied by stunning visuals. Artistic color schemes make some scenes look almost dream like, and the diagonal staging of people and objects function as a metaphor for a polished surface on rotten ground.

I loved Sweetie (the film, that is - I wanted to kick the character in the face). There's a nice Criterion Collection edition to buy. Only $32. Humph.

Daddy visits, Sweetie falls deeper into insanity and Kay seems uncomfortable.

Attempt to serious talk about Sweetie in a restaurant,

and said person becoming aggressive.

Diagonals in the staging.

Arranged blocking, tense dialog and smooth color schemes -

this film remind me of Roy Andersson.

Broken horsies!

International cinema: Australia and New Zealand

2010-10-10T17:06:00.000+02:00

I'm currently taking a course about cinema history from the 1960's onward - and Gloria almighty, there's a lot! Studying film was much easier and reviewable in the silent era, when there were Hollywood, some cool and artsy German films, Swedish films with a lot of snow, Italian over-the-top historical epics and some Soviet propaganda.

When studying cinema was an easy task.

The Phantom Carriage (Sweden, 1921) and Battleship Potemkin (Soviet Union, 1925).

But after the 1960's every damn underdeveloped country had their own cinema movements, and suddenly there is a hell of a lot to study! Of course, it's wildly interesting too. Last week I watched a Senegalese bisexual version of Carmen, to mention something.

Tomorrow we are going to watch House of Flying Daggers (2004) in the context of Oceanian cinema, and since I thought that the director's previous effort Hero (2002) was visual mastery with a plot that was as fun as watching the grass grow in slow motion... well, it will probably be a nice morning.

Anyway. What I just came to think about while reading about films from Oceania, is that there is a hell of a lot of international cinema that most people have seen without probably thinking too much about it. Perhaps it's just my own interpretation, but it is almost like one expects all movies at the theaters to be Hollywood productions, since it's the standard. Therefore, I thought about writing some posts highlighting special "waves" of cinema from countries other than the USA, that have reached a great audience that not only consists of cinephiles. Well, a brief overview at least. Now: Australia and New Zealand.

Feel free to mention which of these films you have seen, and if I should have mentioned anyone in the context!

Australian cinema started to flourish in the late 1970's and early 1980's, and historical epics was a popular subject. What you might have seen in that category is a young Mel Gibson in the Word War I drama Gallipoli (1981). But wait, don't we need more Mel Gibson? Who can get tired of a drunken antisemitic Don Juan? Throw in the wildly popular futuristic action movies Mad Max (1978) and Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981).

Historical depictions and hunk action: Gallipoli and Mad Max.

And then there was the Australian comedy. For some reasons, in the 1980's the world just went crazy for Australian humor. Along came Crocodile Dundee (1986), Muriel's Wedding (1994), The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (1994) and Babe (1995). The latter was however American financed since USA likes to fund already winning concepts (like Crocodile Dundee II).

Australian comedies: Crocodile Dundee, Muriel's Wedding, Priscilla, Queen of the Desert and Babe.

And when Australia could deliver films that were popular with the audience, along came more American financed films from Australia and with Australian directors. Australian actors that became popular and could enjoy a Hollywood career (often with either an American or British accent, though) are Nicole Kidman, Cate Blanchett, Hugh Jackman, Heath Ledger, Geoffrey Rush and Naomi Watts (born in England, raised in Australia). To name a few. The violent drunkard Russell Crow is from New Zealand, see below.

Australian director Baz Luhrmann directed Romeo + Juliet (1996) and Moulin Rouge! (2001). The animated family film Happy Feet (2006) is also a fairly new American-Australian co-production.

New Zealand, being a smaller country and often confused with Australia, had a much more modest success in the film industry. Jane Campion made the fantastically successful weepie The Piano (1993, and yes - I kind of almost cried a bit too). It was a USA-Australia-New Zealand (phuh!) co-production, with middle-aged-woman-fascination and New Zealand raised Sam Neill in the cast.
New Zealander Lee Tamahori made Once Were Warriors (1994) about Maoris, and at least I remember my mother's fascination with a VHS copy of it when I was little. The Swedish translation of the title was the more corny "The Soul of the Warrior". (Just a bit of useless trivia.)

Drama from New Zealand: The Piano and Once Were Warriors.

But then! Oh, but then. Then came the previously cool and original B-movie director Peter Jackson and pumped in money like the greatest of Arabic oil countries into the New Zealand film industry with his adaption of J.R.R Tolkien's complicated nonsense books The Lord of the Rings (2001-2003). Suddenly New Zealand could finance films like never before, and Jackson built a state-of-the-art facility in Wellington where cool D stuff for films like Avatar (2009) could be made. (Well, I'm not into the specifics of the technology - blame me!)
After that cash wave came films like Whale Rider (2002) about a Maori girl, and The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2004) by a New Zealander. Then nobody heard about New Zealand ever after the latter beautiful film played the lovely tunes of the Andrew Sisters' "Oh, Johnny, Oh, Johnny, Oh!".

See you next time with... some other part of the world in some era or another.

A screenshot from some Lord of the Ring film, the female protagonist of Whale Rider and a both beautiful and disturbing scene from the beautiful and disturbing Chronicles of Narnia.

Groucho 120 years

2010-10-02T16:46:00.000+02:00

Make your own Groucho to celebrate the 120-year old! You get the Groucho kit for free here at Lolita's Classics! Just follow these easy steps:

Choose a gorgeous picture of yourself.
Save the Groucho mustache-glasses-eyebrows picture to your computer.
Save the cigar picture to your computer.
Open the gorgeous picture of yourself in an editing program, like Photoshop.
Open the Groucho picture in the program. Click ctrl+a (marks all), click ctrl+c (copy), go to the gorgeous picture of yourself and click ctrl+v (paste). Change the size of the Groucho picture until it fits your face.
Repeat the same process with the cigar picture. Rotate the cigar into a preferred angle. Don't forget to save.
Voilà! You like just as amazing as the Lolita/Groucho transgender original!

Time of the Gypsies (1988)

2010-10-01T19:15:00.002+02:00

Dom za vesanje (lit. "Home for Hanging")
Director: Emir Kusturica
Yugoslavia* 1988
136 min
Starring: Damor Dujmovic, Ljubica Adzovic, Bora Todorovic, Husnija Hasimovic and Sinolicka Trpkova, among others.

[*Yugoslavia was circa 1992 kind of divided into the six (or seven) countries Bosnia-Herzegovina, Croatia, (Kosovo), Macedonia, Montenegro, Serbia and Slovenia - just to make the geography lessons much more difficult.]

I should listen more often to the film tips of my readers! Amy Inferno gave me some great tips of Eastern European movies I should keep an eye on, and I have watched two of them. What Iva Recorded (2005) is an excruciatingly interesting film made in Croatia, that in Blair Witch Project style is built around the recordings of a girl Iva on her 15th birthday. As the film evolves, her family shows to be more disturbing than what it at first seems like. I highly recommend it.

Having now seen one film from Czechoslovakia and one from Croatia, I thought that I could take a look at Emir Kusturica's Time of the Gypsies from Yugoslavia (now Bosnia-Herzegovina), before watching the sexploitation film we were to see in film class today. Oh boy, European films are interesting! The blending of humor and painful drama is both disturbing to someone used to Hollywood, and at the same time deeply satisfying for a viewer who likes to get surprised and watch movies in a different way for a change.

The protagonist is a gypsy teenage boy in Slovenia, Perhan (Dujmovic). He lives with his grandmother (Adzovic), uncle Merdzan (Hasimovic) and crippled sister Danira (Elvira Sali). If you ever had any preconception of how a gypsy neighborhood in Slovenia looks like... this film gives you right. It's grey, it's muddy, its inhabitants are different degrees of strange and alcoholic - it's like the Kazakhstan village in Borat (2006).

Perhan, a very special boy that knows telekinesis, falls in love with a neighbor girl, Azra. He wants to marry her, but is told by her mother that he does not deserve her. Not to mention that Perhan is the illegitimate son of a soldier that abandoned his now deceased mother. Comically enough, Azra's "finer" family looks about as trashy as the rest of the cast, except that they have a house with walls. (You will later notice that a house with walls is a real luxury in Slovenian settlements.)

The scene where Perhan and Azra fall in love was so lovely, that I couldn't help to cut it out for you. Notice the interesting editing while Perhan explains how to make lime - and take a look at his turkey friend that he got as a gift in the beginning of the film. It will not last too long.

It turns out that Perhan's uncle Merdzan is a lousy gambler, and after having lost a large bet to a rich pimp called Ahmed, he tries to force money out of Perhan's family. When they, of course, don't have any money to give him, Merdzan ties a rope to the top of the roof, throws it over some electric cables, ties the end of the rope to his car and drives off in pouring rain - resulting in the probably most famous scene from this film.

Luckily, Perhan's grandmother's got the gypsy magic too, and after having saved Ahmed's sick son she makes a deal with him when he tries to pay her in cash. There is a hospital in Ljubljana (the capital of Slovenia, duh) that can fix Danira's legs, and as long as Ahmed pays for the surgery, they are even. Perhan follows along (after having tried to kill Merdzan for cooking his turkey), and here's where the film clearly takes a turn for the tragic.

Perhan's friend.

It turns out that Ahmed is neither reliable or honorable, something that one might have started to suspect when he on his way to Ljubljana with Perhan and Danira picks up other children, even two infants he claims he just bought from a lady in distress. Perhan ends up in Milano with Ahmed and his gang of thugs, and the rest is... unpredictable, dramatic, comical and exciting. When he comes back home, he is a different man.

Remember that I briefly told you that Perhan's uncle made a stew out of the turkey? He makes a come back (more than once), and I just had to offer another cool scene from the film. It's a dream sequence (or is it...?), and the Milan Cathedral ("Il Duomo") is an occurring theme. Why do I tell this? I was there on a school trip. Well, outside of it. My dress was too short, I was not decent enough to be allowed to enter. Well, the outside is quite pretty too... And those damn pigeons have obviously been there since the 1980's, at least.

Anyway. Time of the Gypsies (I like the literal translation "Home for Hanging" better) is a freakishly entertaining film in so many ways. It's aesthetically brilliant, the actors are wonderful, the editing is cool but not too obvious... I could go on, but I won't. The ending is splendid, just wanted to say that.

Interestingly enough this film takes place in Slovenia, but was filmed in Bosnia-Herzegovina. But Milano and Rome where filmed on location, which is both admirable and adds to both the visuals and the story. I mean, how can one interpret Fontana di Trevi without water?

I don't know whether to read anything into the fact that Perhan Jr is wearing the same hat in the end of the film as Perhan wore in the beginning.

Daisies (1966)

2010-09-28T15:44:00.000+02:00

Sedmikrásky aka Daisies
Director: Vera Chytilová
Czechoslovakia 1966
74 min
Starring: Jitka Cerhová and Ivana Karbanová, among others.

Trivia: Was banned by Czech authorities, since it was considered "depicting the wanton" in a Communist country.

Nobody understands Marie I and Marie II - They don't even understand who is who.

This film may be difficult to review, since it has no linear story whatsoever and the only characters have no history, future or meaning - they don't even have their own names, they are both named Marie (Cerhová and Karbanová - I dare you to figure out who is the blonde and who is the brunette, I tried and failed). But I will do my best to write a review, since this is an awesome movie. People will disagree violently with me, because this is a film you either love or hate.

Director Vera Chytilová.

The film begins with a montage of world war film clips, presumably from WWII. What is important to remember when viewing this film is the politics of the 1960's, which the opening sequence surely wants to remind us of. The previous two generations of the 1960's youth had experienced a world war each, and the 1960's did not look any more hopeful. It was the Cold War and Communism a threat that needed to be fought - Czechoslovakia has been taken over by a communist regime in 1948, and the film movement that came to be called the Czechoslovak New Wave was a response to this. As will become apparent when taking a closer look on Daisies! (Note that this film was made two years prior to the "Prague Spring" in 1968, Czechoslovakia's liberalization period.)

With the circumstances hastily cleared up, it's time to go on with the film. After the opening sequence we are introduced to the main characters, Marie and Marie. While sunbathing they talk about how nobody understands them, and how the world has gone bad. When they move their arms and legs squeak like rusty machinery. The squeaks only stops when they get the brilliant idea that if the world is bad, then they don't need to care about anything - they can do whatever they want without concern for the consequences.

I have an inkling that the squeaky machinery sounds might be a reference to the Soviet people, that en masse are like... machinery, doing whatever Big Brother tells them is for the good of the country. But I may be wrong. (Oh yes, the movie and its weirdness has only begun. Time to get nerdy and frustratingly interpretive!)

Next, Marie slaps the other Marie, and they fall down onto a flowery field with a lone fruit tree. They jump like rabbits, dance and behave like children. Kind of cute children, of course. The cool thing with this sequence is the transition to the next scene, via a weird eye-line match in the middle of a dialog. Just watch:

Why does it have to be more difficult than that? Classic Hollywood editing is sooo 1950's!

Marie and Marie start doing random things without caring about what other people think about them, and they quickly get more and more extreme. They begin with dating old men with doubtable intentions, only to lure them on trains by themselves. They snatch food and wine from restaurant tables, stuff their mouths full with desserts and as a whole weird people out.

If you didn't already notice - the editing and aesthetics of the film follow the same whimsical pattern as the girls. Going from black and white to color, to sepia and different coloring of the black and white films à la tinted silent film. None of the screenshots from the film have been manipulated in any way - the film just says "f*** you" to all traditional editing, like most New Wave films do in one way or the other.

[Yes, I know that I usually write the word "fuck" without those silly stars, but the CMBA thought that my readers may have difficulties understanding the content of my posts using naughty words like that. You know, there are nicer words to use! Well, if I need to self censor like it's fucking 1935 and the hight of the Hays Code era - fuck you. I believe my readers have intelligence enough to understand my posts, ain't I just naïve?]

We'll have a little phallus cutting on that:

There are some reoccurring themes in Daisies. The snipping of phallic symbols is one thing, scissors another, and apples yet another. What they are supposed to mean can be interpreted a hundred different ways, but to me the first thing is (quite obviously) an act of feminism, something that too was controversial in Czechoslovakia at the time. My first thought about the scissor theme is that it could be self-referential to the New Wave style, of cutting films to millions of pieces in a controversial way of editing. About the apples... I don't know. The symbol of wisdom?

The ending of the film is really fun to analyze. The climax begins with the Maries finding a banquet hall full of extravagant dishes - the ultimate symbol of the bourgeoisie society. They start to feast on the food, using different plates for everything and drinking liquor from several glasses at the time. It ends up with them having a food fight, dancing on the tables and crashing all the tableware.

The scene cuts to them drowning in a lake, and the informational text "What had to happen happened". They hang on to some oars, shouting to the men on the boat that they are drowning because they are depraved. "Can the evil be repaired?" They beg for their lives, saying that they will be good from now on.

[My interpretation: "What had to happen happened" may be a sneer to the classic Hollywood theme of a naughty woman having to pay for her wrongs toward the end of the film, by either sacrificing herself, get killed or reform. And obviously these girls have been bad, and needs to be put into place.]

"If we were to give them a second chance, this is what would happen."
The film cuts back to the banquet, crashed and filthy. The Maries tiptoe around with newspaper clothing (see screenshots), cleaning up the mess while chanting that everything will be fine, they are so nice and to the right thing when they clean up their mess, everything will be the same.

[Possible interpretation: I read somewhere that the newspapers and the chanting could symbolize the brainwashing messages to the people under a Communist regime: you will be happy if you work, you will be happy if you do good for your country.]

As you can see, the result is not that good. But the girls keep cleaning up, trying to be good.

[My interpretation: What would happen is someone managed to quiet a revolution, for example a feminist revolution? No matter how hard they tried to get everything back to what it was, it could never be. When women has started to think for themselves and revolt, they will likely not forget all about it. A broken plate can never look like it did before.]

So, what happens when a person has been a good citizen, worked all his/her life and never thought about him/herself?

They die. That's the payment you get.
The last message to the viewer is:

"This film is dedicated to all the people indignant only when their salads are trampled."

Well, is that a message to a country on the verge of a revolt, or not? Daisies is an awesome movie. Watch it.
And don't feel bad if you haven't watched an Eastern European film before. I haven't either, but that will probably change. (If not by my own will, by being forced to in film school.)

And... cut!

Fucking unbelievable

2010-09-20T00:28:00.000+02:00

Well, Sweden's election is over, and it looks like 5,7% of the votes were given to a nationalistic party with roots in White Power movements - Sweden Democrats. I am ashamed of my country. I can't believe that so many people voted for them. This will take some time for me to handle. I will be back with my usual cheery self as soon as I can, but right now I just want to kick someone.

I love Lucille Ball

2010-09-15T23:24:00.000+02:00

I have soon watched the whole first season of I Love Lucy (1951-1952). I am so going as Lucille Ball this Halloween! How I will manage that hairdo is a future problem.

The Swedish election finishes this Sunday (even NYT have written about the election drama), and then I will probably be able to concentrate once again on my classic movie passion. I'm even too distracted to study. Even my mother complains about me talking more politics than television and radio unitized. I guess I'm black or white: either throwing up in the gutter outside Blue Oyster, or boring people to death with unemployment issues.

Until then: lo and behold my Photoshop skills. I look like a hot emo girl! I experimented with some Clara Bow lips, between television debates.

Claude Chabrol dead at 80

2010-09-12T12:43:00.000+02:00

Once again, this thing about honoring the icons first after they have passed away...

Claude Chabrol died this morning, Sunday, in Paris at the age of 80. He was among Jean-Luc Godard, Francois Truffaut and Jacques Rivette one of the most prominent directors ("auteurs") of the French New Wave. Like most of them, he also was a film critic in the famous Cahiers du Cinéma.

Chabrol in 1959.

Chabrol with a pipe. The perfect grandfather.

Although known as making more "mainstream New Wave" films (how that is even possible, I have no idea), he was among the first to kick start that movement. In 1958 he made his directorial debut with Le Beau Serge, a Hitchcock-influenced crime drama that paved the way for his upcoming films, a style sometimes referred to as "Chabrolesque". Next year he made the celebrated Les Cousins (1959) and the Jean-Paul Belmondo vehicle À double tour (Leda, 1959). He continued making almost one film a year until the day he died.

About something completely else: don't mix too many kinds of alcohol. You will end up like me, the night between Friday and Saturday - thrown out of a gay pub, lying in the gutter helplessly throwing up more liquid than your stomach possibly could ever hold.

God bless the homosexuals, by the way. Never have I had so many kind men to hold my hand while puking in a toilet, all the while being told to be perfectly comfortable since I'm not the least attractive. The nicest one told me that he liked his men masculine and rich, and that he thought he was at least as handsome as not to have to pay the entrance fee himself. I think I fell a little in love. He went on:

- Now honey, what the hell is a married woman doing at a place like this?

- *sob* Socializing... buuuaaaahhhh!

Viva glamour boys, I love you. But I will never drink alcohol again. Also, I will never ask gay men for cigarettes again - I hate mint flavored cigarettes. Now I will sleep a bit more with a bucket nearby.

Picture from Friday night.

Pre-glamour Greta Garbo

2010-09-05T17:14:00.001+02:00

The picture above is obviously Greta Garbo after her Hollywood make over. But how did she look as a curvaceous Greta Gustafsson appearing in Swedish commercials, early 1920's? The answer to that is to be found in the archives of Swedish Television.

If you have trouble recognizing her among the other models, she is the one with eyebrows painted with a piece of charcoal. Hideous. Sometimes a physical make over half a world away, obviously, can bring out the inner beauty of the Scandinavian womanhood.

In this 2:45 long (or short) clip, we see Greta "Garbo" Gustafsson in three different milieus: As a fashion model for the brand PUB, at the terrace of the Strand Hotel and at a picnic in the sweet green grass of the North.

The clip is silent, so you can always hum "Yes, We Have No Bananas" to yourself to liven it up a bit.

And yes: the Swedish word for "The End" really is "Slut"... It has amused many an international audience since the beginning of time. Or the beginning of Swedish film, that is.

Bonnie Blue Butler

2010-09-03T21:53:00.001+02:00

I just read that the actress playing the ill-fated (and quite spoiled) daughter of Scarlett O'Hara and Rhett Butler in my favorite lying-in-the-sofa-being-sick-and-feeling-sorry-for-yourself classic film Gone With the Wind (1939), Cammie King, has died aged 76.

I read a cute quote from her, about working with Clark "The Hunk" Gable:

"He was such a warm, friendly man. When he kissed me, his mustache tickled. I'd tell that to my mother's friends and they'd swoon."

No wonder! By the way: I just realized how sad it is to first realize that there still are some people alive having experienced immortal classics like GWTW, only when they have died. A quite disturbing paradox. Anyway - R.I.P.

I will keep this post short only for the one reason that so many found my Fred-Ginger-crossbreeding photo so disturbing, that I want it to still be the first thing visible when visiting my blog. Just for a little while.

And yeah, I feel terrible for STILL not having come back full time, blogging with that 110% energy that I always do. (Ha! Hope I trick at least some of you that I put any thought what so ever in my writing.) Here's why:

The school has, finally, started again - the current subject is Television History. Enormously fascinating, since it is mostly crap with a few glimpses of potential every now and then. Just enough glimpses of hope that you become devastated over and over again of the pure shit that drowns it. If you want an angry Briton to spew all over it instead of a narcissistic Swede, check out Charlie Brooker's Screenwipe. I give you the first third of the first episode of the first season. (That was a confusing sentence. But I bet nobody reads it too close anyway.)

The second reason why I am so neglecting, is that it's a quite crazy situation politically in Sweden now. The election is September 17, and until then I just have to keep up to date with all rotten vegetables the politicians throw at each other to respectfully win the confidence of the voters. Aren't politics just nice?

Anyway, to sooth your anger you can see the following evidence of me being the most glamorous bride this summer. Crown Princess Victoria is nothing compared to my awesomeness. See you soon!

About the wedding dress (I got a question in the comment section): I bought it on Forever21, and the standard wedding dress in Sweden is the princess-of-a-day white silky ones, which I wouldn't feel comfortable in.

And yes, my maids of honor are that beautiful. In fact, all Swedish women are beautiful, so come here on your next vacation.

Was Fred Astaire a tranny?

2010-08-29T16:30:00.000+02:00

[Click to enlarge]

Post number 300 on Lolita's Classics deliver no less than a previously unknown photo of Fred Astaire in dress. RKO recently let go of this shocking portrait of the celebrated dancing actor.

According to a press conference held last week, Astaire himself prompted on posing in his favorite dress for a publicity still. The green and golden gown had previously belonged to his regular film partner Ginger Rogers, who obviously knew about Astaire's fascination for women's clothes and gave it to him as a birthday present.

The impressive rack was manually added to the photograph afterwards, also on request from the dance god himself.

Was Fred Astaire a transvestite, or was this photograph just a result of a crazy whim? We will probably never know, but you can read various theories and more about the subject here and here.

A site dedicated to fascinating secrets like these lies high on my recommendation list.

I'm back... but not really.

2010-08-26T21:29:00.000+02:00

Hello, beloved ones!

I'm not on honeymoon anymore. I came back to the Realm of the Swedes on Sunday, with a bag full of ethanol-filled bottles. Well, at least two bottles of gin, one bottle of Vodka and a bottle of cheap whiskey. Don't come to me and say that Scandinavians have a liquor problem. We just like to binge drink a lot.

Anyway. On the plane back home there was suddenly huge flashes of lightning, and a deep voice among the thunder in the hell ridden sky that shouted to me: "I will strike upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger, those who buy cheap alcohol in Spain and bring it across the borders of Europe!" I briefly wondered why Samuel was so angry with me, but I shrugged it off. What could he do about it, I thought.

He gave me fever, coughing and a cataclysm of snot. I'm not kidding when I tell you that I have blown half of my brain out of my nose, and coughed up vital parts of my intestines.

My point with this being that I don't feel fit to watch any film more mentally challenging than Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937), and no movie more sophisticated than Dodgeball (2004). And even if I would try to make you suffer by reviewing the last one, the quality of my writing would not exceed that of Dan Brown's. You deserve better.

To quote Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Tich: Hold tight.

Away on honeymoon

2010-08-15T12:13:00.000+02:00

Sorry that I bored you to death by writing about Swedish films the last two blog posts. I should be ashamed.

Now I'm off to Alicante, Spain for a week on honeymoon! See ya later, groupies!

While the wedding photos from my personal photographer are taking some time to get finished, here's a little appetizer from a relative's camera - "You may kiss your bride."

Left to right: Maid of honor, silver screen queen of the day, the lucky guy and best man.

Inconvenient Swedes

2010-08-12T15:46:00.000+02:00

"I am a broker. There has to be some of them too."

Ah, come on - Swedish culture is fun. But since interest in my previous post on Hasse Ekman was quite absent (shame on you - I think that's a hate crime), perhaps one of the more eccentric Swedish film makers is more in your taste. I mean, we are rather weird at times.

"Abstinence or, for those who have someone, prolonged fidelity, are advised."

Roy Andersson is known for his bizarre and stale staging and absurd long takes, making almost every scene in his films inconveniently humorous. It's a spot on parody on Swedish manners: we do not like to speak in public, we are stale and uncomfortable with the unknown (whether it be strangers or foreign culture) and Jesus, we have no humor.

[Interestingly enough, this somewhat malicious portrait of Sweden is the extreme opposite of the other picture of us: the sexually promiscuous population that loves to bathe topless. Can't the world decide if we are boring or exotic? I feel this fact gives me great difficulties in defining my own personality.]

"You know - just about anything could suddenly turn up down there, in the warmth and damp."

Anyways. Roy Andersson, nicknamed "slapstick Ingmar Bergman) has made several popular films and TV commercials, often leaving the audience scratching their heads wondering whether to laugh at it, love it or reject it. Of course, if you choose to reject Roy Andersson you have no taste in art at all.

What I will now introduce to you is a work of his called S omething Has Happened (Någonting har hänt, 1987), a short film that deals with the (then) ongoing AIDS paranoia. The humor in this piece is not the disease itself (we Swedes do still not maliciously laugh at disasters, mind you), but rather the different approaches doctors and the public take to explain the origins of the disease.

It was of course the homosexuals' fault. Or was it the monkeys? Or black people? It's really bizarre to see a an embarrassing "professor" trying to share his Negro-in-the-damp-jungles-of-Africa theory to a classroom full of wax-doll looking students, accompanied by bored coughing. The above mentioned blocking of the actors, stale and bizarre like a 16th century painting, add to the weird humor.

"It could have been a Negro who was wandering about down there one day - like this."

Something Has Happened was shown at film festivals world wide in 1993, and was obviously well received. I would have loved to hear the audience's opinion. Note that the film is not a documentary- it's a staged satire on common assumptions and theories at the time.

"And now to something completely different" (yes, I'm well-read on stiff humor from all nations) - Roy Andersson has in 40 years (1967-2007) only made nine movies, according to IMDb. Quality rather than quantity, it seems.

"It's very, very natural."

Give Roy 24 minutes of your time, or face a slow, painful death by ingesting plague infested rats.

Girl with Hyacinths (1950)

2010-08-09T20:25:00.001+02:00

Flicka och hyacinter or Girl with Hyacinths
Director: Hasse Ekman
Sweden 1950
89 min
Starring: Eva Henning, Ulf Palme, Birgit Tengroth, Anders Ek and Marianne Löfgren, among others.

Often mentioned as one of the finest Swedish films in history, especially if one was to exclude that Bergman director who always gets the spotlight, Girl with Hyacinths has been strangely forgotten. Once in a while it is shown on television, and perhaps a film festival every now and then has a Hasse Ekman special and praises it - but outside of Sweden? Time to do something about it.

There was actually a time, in the 1950's, when the public loved to try figuring out who was the best Swedish director: Ingmar Bergman or Hasse Ekman? "Ekman, who?" is your response (and even if you have heard of him, please let me believe that I know everything).

Hasse Ekman was the son of a highly respectable and talented stage actor, Gösta Ekman Sr. Gösta was kind of a Swedish Lon Chaney, a master of disguise. He mastered the role of a young aristocrat as well as that of an old, dirty beggar. You may have seen him in the title role of Faust (F. W. Murnau, 1926), or opposite Ingrid Bergman in her Hollywood ticket Intermezzo (Gustaf Molander, 1936). After the German character actor Emil Jannings, ironically playing the evil Mephisto in Faust, introduced Gösta to cocaine he slowly died the usual Hollywood death - without having been to Hollywood, of course.

Hasse Ekman (1915-2004) and father, Gösta Ekman (1890-1938).

Then there was the dapper son, Hasse Ekman. Oh, I'm so in love with him. He acted, wrote scripts and directed. And as I mentioned earlier, even was a "rival" to the great Ingmar Bergman. While Bergman cast Hasse in sadistic sociopath roles in his own films (see Sawdust and Tinsel, 1953), Hasse made fun of Bergman's crazy being with loopy characters in his films. Even though the media at the time wanted to believe that they hated each other intensely, the truth was that they had the highest respect for each other. And rightfully so.

Then Hasse went and had a son of his own, Gösta Ekman Jr., that is a beloved comedian and actor in Sweden since the 1970's. But enough about the prestigious Ekman family.

The handsome director of the film.

Looks a little bit like Robert Montgomery, doesn't he?

This brings us to what is known as Hasse Ekman's finest directorial achievment - Girl with Hyacinths. Think of it as a Swedish film noir, if you will. It is most likely inspired by films like Laura (1944) and other Hollywood successes at the time, but with the typical dark humor and off beat tone of (good) Scandinavian films.

The film begins with an almost entirely black scene. A dialog is heard while the camera follows a bottle of champagne to a female hand holding a glass. The camera pans down to her feet and follows her across the room to a piano, where the title role silently plays a gloomy tune. She is later identified as Dagmar Brink (Eva Henning, the director's wife at the time and one of Sweden's finest actresses).

Man: One more glass...?

Woman: Pour it up. I've drunk stronger men than you under the table.

Man: Germans can't take much.

Woman: I've partied with all nationalities.

Man: And more than that?

Woman (in English): Mind your own business, brother.

After a while Dagmar leaves the badly lit party and goes home by herself. She sits down in a chair and lits a cigarette. She looks up at the ceiling and notices a hook. The scene cuts to the next morning, when her maid discovers her body hanging from the hook.

The protagonist in the story is Dagmar's neighbor, amateur writer Anders Wikner (Ulf Palme). Surprisingly, he and his wife Britt (Birgit Tengroth) is informed by the police that Dagmar's belongings now are in their possession, as Dagmar had written in her suicide note. Anders' curiosity is awoken: Why did Dagmar kill herself? Why did she entrust her belongings to her neighbors?

The rest of the film contains of Anders' detective work, as he tries to unravel Dagmar's past and her reasons for committing suicide. As her story unfolds through acquaintances of the deceased, scenes of the past are depicted and gives the viewer more information and explanations - as well as more questions, of course. The Wikner couple may as well be one of the cutest married couples in film, apart from Nick and Nora Charles of course.

Ulf Palme and Birgit Tengroth investigating.

Eva Henning as Dagmar Brink, and what is often called her best performance ever.

Girl with Hyacinths is an intriguing story with many of Sweden's finest actors. For the one who has seen many Ingmar Bergman films, there are a lot of familiar faces to be recognized - especially Anders Ek as the alcoholic artist Elias Körner, the one who portrayed Dagmar ("Miss Lonely", as he called her) in a painting he named "Girl with Hyacinths". Even though being Ekman's supposed enemy, Bergman had following to say about the film:

"An absolute masterpiece. 24 carats. Perfect."

Elias Törner: Merry Christmas! Merry fucking Christmas!

Not only is the film beautifully written and acted, but the mobile camera work is pretty admirable for the time and place and the musical score is wonderful. Another interesting aspect of the film, as it unravels Dagmar's past in the 1940's, is its depiction of WWII Sweden. Being a neutral country in the war (and every war since Napoleon), one hardly thinks about how it affected people then (or even that it affected anyone).
At one time Dagmar's husband turns on the radio, where news about Germany's invasion of Paris is being reported. How this is relevant to the story is not for me to spoil, but Dagmar looks terrified, turns off the radio and says that this is appalling. Her husband disagrees:

Capt. Brink: No worse than when they entered Brussels, Amsterdam or Warsaw.
Dagmar: They're vile.
Capt. Brink: But damn good soldiers. That rotten and corrupted France needs some cleaning up.
Dagmar: You sound like a Nazi.
Capt. Brink: I admire them, as an officer.

These conflicting attitudes toward Nazi Germany returns later in the film, and may or may not have something to do with Dagmar's sad ending.

All in all, this is a film worth being seen outside of Sweden. As you can see from the screenshots, subtitles are available if you know where to look. Give it a shot - especially if you are traumatized by having thrust yourself into Bergman films too early and think that all Swedish films are either existential migraine or 1970's exploitation.
Girl with Hyacinths is good stuff - even though Hasse Ekman never appeared in front of the camera, which makes me a little sad. But give it a shot if you have the opportunity.

Until then, you can always check out my new wallpaper with Hasse Ekman and Eva Henning. Married couples can be cool:

Al Pacino needs to burn

2010-08-05T14:41:00.001+02:00

Oh, no. It's nothing personal. I don't mind Pacino, even though he seldom plays anything but a hot-tempered sociopath. He was good as Shylock in The Merchant of Venice (2004), though. The combination of an angry Italian and Shakespeare is priceless.

So now I will explain why he has to burn.

I got this weird text from my mother today. "I found Al Pacino under the freezer. Do you want him?"

Usually I have quite a good imagination, but this time I had no idea what she meant. I called her up, and obviously she found a Scarface (1983) poster under the freezer while cleaning. Don't ask me how it ended up there, but I suddenly burst into laughter. You see, this was one more or less treasured possession of an ex-boyfriend of mine (and I can't say that he had great taste in films) - the same person that took off with my Beatles Rubber Soul vinyl (that he had giving to me, after some manipulation) when I dumped him. The same person that was bitter enough as to describe to me on his blog as "an evil she-devil that exploited me both emotionally and economically". That post is a regular laughing stock on parties, so thank you dear!
(I won't give you the blog address since it is A in Swedish, and B mostly pretentious crap about how blue he feels and what emo music he listens to.)

Okay, so I kind of manipulated him into paying for a Bob Dylan concert at The Globe in Stockholm, but that was after I broke it off. I mean, what did I have to lose on a free concert? If he was naive enough to think that I would take him back because I got to watch a drunk and confused (but incredibly cool) music legend from the front row, he has only himself to blame.

I thought that I should set fire to the poster with the cigar I got as a wedding gift from my friend. Maybe I will paint on a grease mustache and eyebrows, while laughing maniacally. Moahaha!

(I guess you all could guess that I haven't watched too many classic movies lately, so I have to write about anything remotely related that comes to mind.)

I'm not that stupid

2010-08-02T11:53:00.000+02:00

To those who may interpret me as a misogynist, feminist hater or terrorist supporter:
(For those who haven't even had the thought that I would be a mean person - just look at the pictures and enjoy.)

I may be blonde in the picture above, but I'm not that stupid. This is a film blog, and it would be stupid (which I'm not, at least not that stupid) to sneak in upsetting political comments to scare off my readers. One could compare that hypothetical deed to the popular urban legend that Tommy Hilfiger once said that he didn't want black people or Asians to wear his clothes. That would just be stupid.

Even though this is a classic film blog, I have obviously made some political comments every now and then - but that is either for harmless comical reasons or that the Swedish minister of justice has an IQ of a football and recently has proven it yet again. I.e. nothing that should upset my, mostly American, readers.

Why do I then feel the need to explain myself? I have no fucking idea, and I despise myself for it. It's fucking common sense that I do not hate women for being women, that I do knot know enough about feminist history to know that some amazing things have been accomplished, or that I would be as ignorant as to have some underlying hatred for all Americans just because your ex-President was considered totally loopy by great parts of the world population.

My real political opinions are rather normal and boring, to tell you the truth, and therefore I may spice them up with obviously bizarre comments if I feel like making a brief reference to political opinions. Like "all women are usually whiny bitches".

Thankfully, 99% of my readers seem to have brains enough not to think twice about it. Thankfully, most of those people who do find my blog disturbing just go to some other area of the pretty big world of the Internet. Thankfully, most people probably don't want to waste their valuable time giving pathetic life lessons in the comment section of a blog post they didn't like.

Thankfully, most of my dear readers also understand that this is a classic film blog for movie nerds - and that politics have nothing to do with the subject.

I guess everyone that was born with a sense of humor can see the difference between making fun of innocent victims of a national disaster, and a lighthearted reference to the incident as a whole. The latter does not mean "yay for terrorism and loads of civilians ending up dead".

In Sweden the MS Estonia disaster of -94 (852 deaths, read more about it here) is still a touchy subject, especially with the state-smuggling-weapons-on-board-and-therefore-didn't-raise-the-ship conspiracy theory attached to it. Just adorable.

That doesn't mean that we would go berserk if someone mentions it - or even jokes about it. If it shows to be a tasteless joke, then one can be pretty calm with the notion that it was spoken by a pathetic person not worthy of my attention.

So... are we cool now? If not, just remember that I will not beg on my knees to explain something obvious and (for the theme of my blog) irrelevant again. I will do a lot for my readers, but when it comes to this shit once is enough. When (hopefully "if") similar comments about me being an asshole reach my comment section, I will just answer with a link to this post.

Notice that I never delete the comments - they are pretty entertaining in a way too.

Inception (2010) was, by the way, a mind blowing film that I would recommend to about anyone.

It's clever (took about eight years to write!) and original - something that I never dare to expect to come from Hollywood since the 1960's. Don't read too much about it before watching it, though. Or, do - you will not understand a thing anyway and will not be able to spoil it for yourself. You only have to know that the film centers around the concept of being able to break into and manipulate dreams - an ability that some would pay a lot to be able to exploit. Oh, and that dear, dear Marion Cotillard is in it.

And the film nerd's favorite:

Impossible celebrity couples

2010-07-26T23:36:00.000+02:00

I just found an entertaining website (Worth1000), that seems to frequently have photoshop contests. I found one contest with the name of "Impossible celebrity couples", which proved to have a lot of amusing photoshopped pictures! Not all were that skilled, but a lot of them were: here's a couple of my favorites.

Audrey Hepburn and Justin Timberlake by claudia.

Buster Keaton and Tara Reid by controlfreak.

Charlize Theron and Charles Bickford by Mandrak.

Clark Gable and Madonna by Shorra.

Claudia Schiffer and Peter Sellers by Mandrak.

Eddie Murphy and Bette Davis by emilliom.

Elijah Wood and Jean Arthur by carmsie.

George Clooney and Elizabeth Taylor by juicebx75.

George Clooney and Grace Kelly by hank101.

Humphrey Bogart and Scarlett Johansson by MarcusBCS.

John Wayne and Heath Ledger by mzpresto.

Johnny Depp and Ingrid Bergman by frank1956.

Laurence Olivier and Scarlett Johansson by oilcorner.

Madonna and Fred Astaire by getuchito.

Marilyn Monroe and Jeff Goldblum by Errorquetzal.

Oliver Hardy and Mel Gibson by hechtal.

Robert Downey Jr and Joan Crawford by pcysmith.

W.C. Fields and Kirsten Dunst by pcysmith.

Woody Allen and Marilyn Monroe by Heztone.

And the most gruesome, but clever:

Vincent Price and Gwyneth Palthrow by NomeDaBoy.

Behind the scenes with Rathbone and Karloff

2010-07-20T14:00:00.000+02:00

Please, do tell me what you think of the new blog design! I wanted some change, I think it works.

Anyway, I was "cruisin' the net" for Basil Rathbone pictures for a desktop wallpaper for myself (don't you all do that on your spare time?), when I found quite a few adorable behind-the-scenes photos. Since it was all too long ago since I even mentioned my eternal Rathbone love, why not share some of them with you?

Basil Rathbone being Peeping Tom on Olivia De Havilland.

I believe this is the first picture I've ever seen of Rathbone and a bikini broad!

If I was Veda Ann Borg sharing a couch with Rathbone on the set of Confession (1937), I would just... No wait, children may be reading this.

Basil Rathbone dancing with Marlene Dietrich, with David O. Selznick and wife behind them.

Isn't that cute? Rathbone kissing Dietrich.

That's "bromance", for you! Rathbone, Boris Karloff, Vincent Price and Peter Lorre sneaking up on them from behind.

I don't know who the guy to the left is, but I laughed out loud when I saw Karloff on monster make up with a cigarette in his mouth.

Poor quality on this photo, but I hadn't seen it before. Nancy Sinatra greets Karloff and Rathbone. Warning: Do not watch any recent photos of Nancy, if you don't want to have horrible nightmares. (Why can't women age with pride anymore? Why?)

Yes, Boris Karloff in drag. Obviously from the TV show "The Girl from U.N.C.L.E" (1966), with April Dancer (Stephanie Powers) to the left and Napoleon Solo (Robert Vaughn) to the right. Karloff played the evil mastermind "Mother Muffin". That's just lovely.

Drooling over here.

Yeah... I'm not drooling any more. Can anyone explain this photo to me?

Not a behind the scene photo, but a screenshot from The Masked Bride (1925) with Rathbone as Antoine, obviously trying to seduce Mae Murray. Why haven't I seen this film?

The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939)

2010-07-14T22:41:00.000+02:00

The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex aka Essex and Elizabeth
Director: Michael Curtiz
USA 1939
106 min
Starring: Bette Davis, Errol Flynn, Olivia de Havilland, Donald Crisp, Vincent Price and Henry Daniell, among others.

Welcome to the misogynist version of the life of Queen Elizabeth I!

Nah, I won't complain too much. Just enough.

This film is, like the ones in my previous post, based on a popular play. This was Elizabeth the Queen from 1930, written by some bloke called Maxwell Anderson. Initially the film version had the same title, but pompous Flynn wanted his existence included in the title - and there you have the present title. The "aka" title is even worse, putting Essex's name before the queen's! It is with that title the film is listed at IMDb.

Misogynist points: +5p.

Bette Davis as Queen Elizabeth I. The likeness is astounding.

Errol Flynn as Earl of Essex. Uncanny resemblance.

One can of course not expect a Hollywood version of a play, based on real events that took place more than 400 years earlier, to be entirely historically correct. For one thing, when this film starts it is 1596 and Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex (Flynn) has just to returned to London after the capturing of Cadiz.
In short: he beat up some Spaniards and the British people was happy, even though Essex wasn't entirely successful. At this time Essex was 31 years old - Queen Elizabeth was 63. Bette Davis was less than half the real age of the queen! But it's Hollywood, and the studio probably didn't want to put Marie Dressler in a romantic lead opposite handsome Flynn. Perhaps because she had been dead since 1934, but I don't know.

Misogynist points (for not hiring Dressler): +2p.

Before I get carried away with bitchiness, I may add that I loved the dialog that obviously points to a great playwright. And although Bette Davis and Errol Flynn didn't get along (to say the least), they managed to fool me several times - pointing towards great actors. Donald Crisp is excellent as Sir Francis Bacon, even though he still haunts my worst nightmares since Broken Blossoms (1919) [blog post]. But the coolest of all: Davis had her forehead and eyebrows shaved for this role. A funny fact that all classic film devotees should know blindfolded while being eaten alive by plague smitten rats.

So, may I be a little cruel now that I have been a pleasant little girl? Good. Yes, the dialog was smoothly written and is delivered with elegance - but what the heck does Essex think he can say to a queen? She is of course quite a bitch sometimes, but she is the goddamn queen! Take for example when the queen asks him if he think he's rule England better just because he's a man.

"I do indeed. And that's exactly where you fail. You can't think and act like a man."

When she gets mad, he laughs and says: "Fiery wench, aren't you?"

I want to hit him. Hit him hard. Which Bette Davis amusingly enough did during their first scene, after Essex had had the guts to turn his back to the queen. The slap, with heavy rings and all, was real and not intended. (Perhaps intended by Bette, but not planned by the director or anyone else.) According to Flynn's autobiography he wasn't too happy, which really shows in the scene. He has to use all power not to strike back. Haha, he deserved it. Pig.

Misogynist points: +10p.

Essex goes to Ireland to fight (don't they ever stop?), but the Queen orders him home. (In reality, she had forbidden him to come home, but being accurate is so boring.) The whole messy relationship ends when Essex tries to overthrow the queen by taking her and the palace hostage. (In reality he suddenly turned up in her bedroom without her being properly dressed - this time being accurate was too fun. He did not invade her court until two years later, neither. Too boring a fact.) Queen Elizabeth forgives him after some romantic talk about how he will become a good king and she will rule by his side (yeah, right), after which she demands him taken to the Tower and be executed for treason. Sensible enough.

What I don't quite buy, though, is her calling him back the day of the execution to pardon him. He was obviously only after her throne (Queen Elizabeth was, like I said, 60+ years old and covered with smallpox scars), yet she wants him pardoned - and he refuses! Yes, the silly man refuses to be pardoned, turns his back on her (again) and leaves for the gallows. She falls to the floor, shouting after him:

"Robert... take my throne! Take England! It's yours!"

...yeah, about that. What the duck? Why a duck?
No, seriously. This is a parody of post-code Hollywood - to have goddamn Queen Elizabeth begging on the floor. We are talking about the woman who, apart from being the daughter of infamous wife-executioner Henry VIII, imprisoned and executed her cousin Mary, Queen of Scots. The woman who became queen at the age of 25, and obviously had been able to handle her own for 40 years. Her... begging, with tears flowing down her face? She was obviously sad by the turn of events, but I will not buy that she couldn't keep it together at all and offering the throne to a traitor.

Misogynist points: +157

Result: A movie that does not fancy women.

Bette is disappointed with the view on women in Hollywood.

I hate when I sound like a feminist whiny bitch, but this is just too much. It's not a bad movie, Bette Davis is strong and awesome (most of the time... when she could)... but these little details annoyed the hell out of me. (Should one really take ten frustrated cigarette breaks and a glass of red wine during one movie?) To hell with it. And Errol Flynn (although he is quite handsome).

Fun fact: Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex was the only man to ever have a private execution on Tower Green (no family fun for the British people there), and it supposedly took the executioner three chops before his head was severed. That's karma, asshole.