Matty

Jake Hannaford, a passionate hunter of Irish descent, as well as a chauvinist and racist, is not so much an alter ego of Welles as he is of John Huston. The Other Side of the Wind captures the last days of classic Hollywood, or rather the decline of the world represented by macho Huston-type patriarchs. Because of her indigenous origins, Hannaford sees the lead actress of his film as an exotic exhibit and mockingly calls her “Pocahontas”. The actress initially reacts with hateful looks and later vents her frustration by shooting at figurines. Hannaford’s publicist, based on film critic Pauline Kael (who couldn’t stand Welles), is not reluctant to engage in open verbal confrontation with the director when she repeatedly points out the macho posturing that he hides behind. The women defend themselves and the men are not happy about it. ___ By giving the female characters more space and enabling them to give expression to their sexuality, Welles comes to term not only with Hollywood, but also with his own legacy. Like late-period John Ford, whom Welles greatly admired, he critically reassesses the themes of his earlier films. At the same time, however, doubts arise as to whether the way in which Oja Kodar’s character is presented in Hannaford’s film (sexually aggressive, captivating an inexperienced male protagonist) also says something about Welles. ___ Hannaford's unfinished magnum opus is clearly a parody of the works of American filmmakers who during the New Hollywood era responded diligently to European works by shooting pretentious and incoherent would-be art films packed with eroticism and conspicuous symbolism. More or less naked, beautiful and young actors wordlessly wander around each other in dreamlike interiors and exteriors. It doesn’t seem to matter that the characters don’t follow the sequences of Hannaford’s film in the right order (if anyone actually has any idea what the order is supposed to be). As Welles divulged in an interview, he shot the film with a mask on, as if he wasn’t himself. Therefore, why should we associate with him what Hannaford’s work says about women and female sexuality? ___ The parodic imitative style, which was not peculiar to Welles, was due also to the raw, intentionally imperfect hand-held shots from a party, reminiscent of the then fashionable cinema-verité. Completed long after Welles’s death, the film is basically a combination of two styles that Welles would not have employed. The question of who Jake Hannaford was (like the question of who Charles Foster Kane was in Citizen Kane) is less relevant in this context than the question of who the creator is and who is imitating whom, which Welles quite urgently asks in the mockumentary F for Fake, which, with its fragmentary style, has the most in common with The Other Side of the Wind. ___ For example, Peter Bogdanovich, who was considered to be an imitator of Welles in the 1970s, plays Hannaford’s most diligent plagiarist in the film. The defining of his character through imitation of someone else, however, is done ad absurdum, when he occasionally begins to imitate James Cagney or John Wayne in interviews with journalists. Though Welles incorporates media images of influential figures into his film, he also ridicules them as improbable and untruthful. All of these contradictions could be part of an effort to offer, instead of the retelling of one person’s life story, an expression of doubtfulness about the ability to recognise who someone really is. ___ Though, thanks to Netflix, Welles’s film can theoretically be seen by far more viewers than would have been possible at the time of its creation, the manner of its presentation by the streaming company recalls a moment from Hannaford’s party, when the producer lays down reels of film and says to those interested in a screening, “Here it is if anybody wants to see it”. Netflix helped to finish the film and raised its cultural capital by presenting it at a prestigious festival, and then more or less abandoned it, as if cinephiles who love more demanding older films were not a sufficiently attractive audience segment. ___ With Welles’s involvement, the film, which was completed 48 years after it was started, would have perhaps been more coherent, had a more balanced rhythm and conveyed a less ambiguous message. At the same time, however, all of its imperfections draw our attention to its compilation-like nature, or rather the convoluted circumstances of its creation – we think about who is in charge of the work, who created it (perhaps Jake Hannaford, whose “Cut!” is heard after the closing credits) and what it says about him, which was probably Welles’s intention. The Other Side of the Wind is a good promise of a great film. 80%

The life and death of the best man, Lumpy. Koland’s courage to approach a conventional indie narrative about an outsider in an unconventional way becomes apparent as early as in the prologue. The film begins with its most cheerful scene, a wild wedding reception, something with which other comedies would end. The assumption that we will spend the subsequent eighty minutes watching the tragicomic events of the newlyweds’ life together is turned upside down by what comes next. Lumpy turns out to be the real hero of the story, even though is mostly physically absent, but he is the one who sets the story in motion. In any given crude comedy of recent years, Lumpy would merely be the protagonist’s humorous friend. Koland, however, set himself the goal of convincing us that a sensitive human being is hidden behind the mask of the chubby jester. Conversely, the outwardly happy couple lose their lustre as they become aware of the world of losers. Kristin and Scott show themselves to be two mentally unstable hypocrites who are made better people only by those who have no reason to pretend anything. Of course, at its core this involves the awful cliché about how we conceal who we really are and we either cannot or do not want to unleash our real potential. Thanks to the use of stereotypes, you will be able to formulate a psychological profile of the characters after twenty minutes (the uptight, hysterical woman; the unappreciated genius) and there is also lustre room for a publicly delivered “grand” speech touching on the most personal experiences. However, I appreciate the fact that Koland used the blueprint of the mainstream newlywed comedy in a way that defies expectations and focused attention on those characters that truly deserved it, i.e. characters like those from an indie film. The idea of combining two types of humour (crude and “heartwarming”) and two types of acting (comedic excess and intimate understatement) is not the apex of creative inventiveness, but it is a change that counts for something among the dozens of cookie-cutter romcom productions that are out there. 60%

“They're here.” Poltergeist is a strangely disjointed horror movie that initially ridicules a model 1980s yuppie family and their lifestyle (rationality, pragmatism, disconnection from nature, which then strikes back in the form of intrusive mosquitoes and man-eating trees), but then, through that same family’s misfortune, defends the values on which Reagan’s America stood (the use of paranormal phenomena as the impetus to return the characters to a time when they still “believed in miracles”, as Diane says, is ambiguous). Similarly, the film is unclear as to whether viewers should fear or sympathise with the ghosts, because they are – according to the clairvoyant – so alone. Perhaps both, except that the transitions from family-friendly entertainment, keeping us under the illusion that nothing is really happening, to brutal horror, with characters peeling the skin off their faces (resembling a cut of meat that they were getting ready to consume, which I’m not sure was meant to be some sort of sophisticated critique of consumerism), manifested also in the changing style (urgent details vs. units with multiple plans of action), are not very subtle. The film is not balanced either rhythmically (its pace is slowed by long explanatory passages, the narrative continues in a “set time” after everything essential has been said) or in terms of tricks (some are still impressive, while others, like the digital tornado, are laughable). Though Poltergeist contains the best of both Steven Spielberg and Tobe Hooper’s work, it fails to combine the two approaches in a way that doesn’t seem irritating. 70%

The Duke of Burgundy offers a decidedly more sophisticated spectacle than you would expect from a tribute to the sexploitation films of Jesús Franco that follows a pair of masochistic lesbian lepidopterists. It is actually a subtle relationship study that contemplates the compromises that we are willing to make and how much of our comfort we are willing to give up because of the roles that we play in order to please our partners. What do we want more, for the person we love to be happy or for them to be with us? ___ During the first few minutes, we see the curt communication between two women who may not know each other at all and may be the lady of the house and her maid. Cynthia and Evelyn actually know each other well enough to be aware of what each other desires. Their cohabitation has taken the form of a ritualised replay of a limited number of situations. Emotional tension arises from slight variations in the repeating scenes, which are at one point exciting and at another funny or sad depending on the changing context and their similarity raises doubts with respect to the time sequence of the shots. Strickland plays with the changing of roles and slight shifts of emphasis, while exploring the thin line separating the erotic from the dull. The originally potentially exciting sadomasochistic games of dominance and submission are turned into a routine that makes the individual days blend together for both the protagonists and the viewer. ___ Cracks gradually appear in the encyclopaedia relationship, whose roles are as clearly divided as the ubiquitous butterflies are classified. As the rules are broken, the film’s polished style and narrative begin to change. The strict cohesiveness is displaced by greater formalistic indiscipline. It’s as if the director has lost control of the film. But that is not the case at all. He intentionally abandons discipline in order to point out to us that we are watching a film that, like a relationship, follows certain formulas in the interest of greater understanding. ___ The limitations of the fictional world enable Strickland to motivate the characters’ behaviour almost exclusively in relation to the erotic and to focus all attention on the perversity of power games involving sex. In essence, he created an experimental laboratory in which he can study the behaviour of two paired-off human females under pressure. Similarly as in Fincher’s Gone Girl, in The Duke of Burgundy a basic condition for maintaining a long-term relationship is the willingness to come to terms with and forgive the other for who he or she really is. The film’s ambiguous ending may mark a retreat from the positions laid out and the conclusion of a mutually beneficial agreement, as well as the beginning of a new cycle that resolves nothing. ___ In the tradition of the good old European art films, The Duke of Burgundy doesn’t simplify anything, push any agenda or attempt to oblige us. The collage of various styles and genres does not serve exclusively to tell a story, but to a large extent also serves to create a unique atmosphere at the boundary between reality and dreams, not unlike the atmosphere of Buñuel’s Belle de Jour. The feeling that one or the other of the women, to whose perspective the film is bound throughout, is leaving her body is amplified by the frequent shots of reflections of the women’s faces in windows and mirrors. The soundtrack and the soporifically slow pace of the narrative are also hypnotic. Furthermore, the discontinuous sequencing of the scenes evokes the impression that the protagonists move freely through time and space. This is perhaps due to their unique nature, which stimulates the senses, or perhaps because they are caught in a spiral of replaying the same scenarios again and again. ___ Regardless of how much our efforts to create the perfect relationship resemble a sadomasochistic psychosexual melodrama, we are still actors in a comedy. The Duke of Burgundy says this (and much more) so captivatingly that it took me a couple of hours to come back to reality from its world of scented lingerie, soft skin and delicious chocolate cakes. 85%

The main protagonist of the animated Dumbo was an elephant. In Tim Burton’s live-action version, the baby elephant is primarily an attraction in a clichéd story of several nondescript characters who are paradoxically bothered by the fact that someone uses animals as attractions. Otherwise, it is a completely routinely directed film without spark and (surprisingly) also without memorable visual ideas and (almost) without humour. The original Disney film is an hour shorter, much more enchanting and touching, and contains a scene with pink elephants (to which Burton only briefly refers), apparently written under the influence of absinthe. In other words, it would just be better if you put on Dumbo from 1941 for yourself and your children. 50%

Though Nolan’s previous films were more refined in terms of narrative and intellectually more ambitious, their ostentatious structure often overshadowed emotion. Dunkirk, which stays more grounded in a number of respects, is his most functional prototype of the epic movie that Hollywood currently needs, a major film that you will want to see not only in a technically well-equipped cinema (preferably IMAX), but also repeatedly. Thanks to Nolan’s focused direction, everything in the film is subordinated to the maximum sensory experience, the intensity of which rises with each viewing, as you become better oriented in the temporal relationships between the individual storylines and can experience more while working less on solving the narratological puzzle. Dunkirk is intoxicating, dizzying and unrelenting in its intensity from start to finish. (Viewed three times in the cinema, of which IMAX twice.) 90%

After 12 Angry Men come 16 dissatisfied men and women. They are stuck in their unsatisfying jobs, which makes them easy to manipulate. They might not even be aware of their dependent position in the capitalist system if Sandra had not approached them with her request. The main dilemma that they are faced with is whether to conform and vote with the majority or to weigh their decision and possibly take on greater responsibility. While the indecisive co-workers have to struggle a bit with their own morals, Sandra fights for her lost self-respect, family stability and faith in her own existence. She would most like to not be seen or heard. She would most like to simply not be. Her self-confidence has fallen to less than zero.  Marion Cotillard expresses the character’s feelings of shame and resignation through timid gestures, a hunched posture, a blank expression on her face without makeup and excessive gratitude for every display of humanity. ___ The long shots/sequences that comprise each of the encounters enable her to portray a change of mood from apathetic sadness to cautious joy, from resignation to determination in one go and without losing contact with the setting (which in the Dardenne brothers’ films conditions the behaviour and positioning of the characters). Mainly thanks to her family, she slowly realises that regular doses of Xanax and self-denial are not the only way out. One of the things that makes this apparent to her is the slowly waning interpersonal solidarity. It evidently makes Sandra happy if she can share something with her loved ones, such as a song (sung together in the car) or food (the film begins with taking a cake out of the oven; her husband works as a cook). ___ The brief moments of happiness liven up the intentionally and repetitively stultifying narrative structure. However, the repetition of the same types of situations does not diminish the film’s dramatic potential. We can count down the remaining time and how many people are left to visit, and after the pattern is established, we are kept in anticipation of how the next co-worker that Sandra approaches will respond to her request, and whether it will be a man, a woman, a white person, a black person, a younger person or an older person. The social and ethnic diversity of the supporting characters, none of which is a one-dimensional stereotype, and the effort to take the motivations for their decisions into account and their various responses are indicative of the filmmakers’ empathy, as they do not judge or simplify, and they do not handle the characters as if they were inanimate tools to further the narrative (you have the feeling that the characters exist even outside of the space staked out for them in the film). ___ The setting of a deadline and the structuring of the narrative into brief segments takes Two Days, One Night out of the realm of documentary-style verism that is characteristic of some of the Dardennes’ earlier films, but the strong humanistic message has not been weakened in any way by the more elaborate structure of the plot. Furthermore, the development of the drama never seems overly forced, thanks to the smooth incorporation of more conventional narrative elements (a suicide attempt, leaving an abusive husband) into the flow of the action and the consistent consideration of socioeconomic determinants. ___ Thanks to the clear structure akin to that of a folk ballad (but without a clear ending) in which the protagonist faces a difficult test, the Dardennes were able to emphasise the allegorical subtext and timelessness of the drama, which is outwardly tied to a specific situation and setting. With its apt metaphor for the capitalist system (the workers are at each other’s throats while the boss skates), the film doesn’t slip into didacticism while presenting us with the same questions that Sandra indirectly challenges her co-workers to ask. Would we put our comfortable membership in the majority over our own inner ethical convictions? Would we sacrifice ourselves for a person with whom we have almost nothing in common except our social status? These are questions that I am afraid to answer. 80%

It seems that in recent months filmmakers have remembered the often ignored group composed of older viewers. Together with The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, Amour and Quartet, Hope Springs is one of those films about the search for harmony in later life. In comparison with the three aforementioned European films, Frankel’s film is more clearly defined as a comedy in which the problems of old age preferably generate humorous rather than tragic situations. With its comedic feel and somewhat simplistic favouring of the sexual side of things, Hope Springs also appeals to a younger audience, who can thus learn what their parents are dealing with in their absence. Mainly thanks to the actors in the lead roles, who even manage to simulate oral sex with grace, the film’s levity does not slip into vulgarity even in the most delicate moments. The truth is that both Meryl Streep and Tommy Lee Jones are better suited to a more serious situation in which they succeed, practically without uttering a word, in expressing the weariness of a marriage from which all spontaneity has dissipated (the routine preparation of breakfast). In most of the scenes, however, the problem of a worn-out relationship is addressed more straightforwardly – with frank dialogue on a marriage counsellor’s couch (I didn’t believe Carell in the role of the counsellor, even though he tried to play it with a straight face). Because it’s placed in the context of therapy, the whole deconstruction of the marriage seems rather forced and after the likable introduction, when we are briefly familiarised with the cause of the wife’s discontent, the film turns into a psychology handbook whose unconcealed aim is to defend marriage. Though the woman is the agent of change, the film is essentially anti-feminist in the sense of “even though you live with an impractical, sardonic cheapskate, he is still your husband, so just do your best to again enjoy living with him”. Nevertheless, Hope Springs is still worth watching for its acting and for its attempt to much more thoroughly open up for the American mainstream a subject that was previously addressed in, for example, the German film Cloud Nine. 70%

If anything puts the brakes on this ensemble western packed with everything a classic western should contain (Monument Valley, Indians, a shootout on the street), it’s a stagecoach stuffed with everything that the United States represented before the war. Though this microcosm of society enables Ford to characterise Kid as a self-reliant individualist standing outside the established social structures and, at the same time, to expand on his favourite theme of the birth of the American nation, the relationships between the characters are not well depicted in the Maupassant-esque comedy of morals and their “resolution” through the somewhat unfair use of a deus ex machina in the form of a band of savage Indians (who, unlike in The Searchers, are nothing more than an obstacle on the way to a civilised society). However, a few sardonic melodramatic interpolations and funny flashes of Ford’s humour are trampled into the ground during a long action scene with an example of unmistakably first-class filmmaking. The back projections and exterior shots with stunts are so skilfully combined that the transitions between the realistic and “artificial” environments are not jarring and the sequence unfolds at such a pace that you gladly forgive Ford for the baffling axle crossing. Perhaps it is a pity that not only the socio-critical dimension of the film remains in the shadow of this magnificent sequence, but so does the brilliant direction of the introductory part. Ford directs Stagecoach partially as a silent film. He mostly relies on static shots; instead of words, he lets the looks that the characters exchange do the talking and those looks thus have even greater storytelling value, which is not diminished by the details and other stylistic revivals in the film (the introduction of Wayne’s character is unforgettable thanks to the unique use of a swift approach of the camera). Every cut, every change in the size of the shot has its justification in Ford’s expressive economy. The style does not needlessly draw attention to itself; from the depth of the composed shots (which evidently had a strong influence on Citizen Kane), we learn only what is necessary for the plot structure. The clarity and comprehensibility of the narrative seem completely natural, which is due not only to the distinctiveness of Ford's direction, but also the difficulty of expressing it in words. Try to describe something invisible. Even though its qualities may not seem so obvious to you, Stagecoach remains a milestone of cinema. It is the film that started the revival of the western genre and took a B-list actor with rigid expressions and statuesque poses and turned him into an immortal film icon. 85%

Morons, sycophants, hypocrites. The nouveau riche, the Church, the military. They collide again and again, and nothing comes of it. They are scared to death that someone might uncover their true intentions. The accumulated lies emerge in dreams that may ultimately be more true than what is passed off as reality. Buñuel made an astonishingly caustic comedy with a slight hint of surrealism. Food, sex, dreams and scenes like something out of an art-house film viewed through the lens of Monty Python. The directing is admirably economical; if something can be said in one shot, it’s not said with three. However, I wasn’t always entire sure what was actually being said, but if by no other means, the film entertained me with its subversive unpredictability. 80%