It’s back and a long time coming indeed. Taking the month of August off (not by choice, but sheer insanity by yours truly), it was a long road to catch up with the ton of content Criterion ended up putting up during this month. At first it seemed Criterion was holding back, being a tease if you will, giving us a small handful of films in the beginning of the month. Those films were Guillermo Del Toro’s Cronos, Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon and Seven Samurai and Jean Luc Godard’s Breathless. Four treasures within the collection, but it felt like a greatest hits right around the time of the San Diego Comic Con. It makes sense that they wouldn’t want to just rush out a ton of titles at that time. So fast forward to August 31st, where we are at now and where Criterion took me during this earthquake and hurricane month.
Right off the bat, I’m going to go through the Jim Jarmusch films that were put up. If you’re not a Jarmusch fan, well then you won’t be too excited. But for myself and I know many of you are as well, you’ll be happy to know that his whole filmography is up on Hulu Plus now. In order, we have Permanent Vacation (1981), Stranger Than Paradise (1984), Down By Law (1986), Mystery Train (1989) and Night on Earth (1991) are the complete Jim Jarmusch films in the collection. Makes you just wish Ghost Dog was perhaps in the upcoming future.
Une Parisienne (1957) is directed by Michel Boisrond (who 10 years later acted in his first film, a Criterion film in Melvile’s Le Samourai) and has the radiant Brigitte Bardot, a romantic comedy in the beautiful scenery of Paris in the 1950’s. A surprise of a film for me, I’m hoping to see this come out in the collection sometime soon (or perhaps they’ll get some more Boisrond films for an Eclipse set).
One that I was so excited for is Masahiro Shinoda’s Assassin (1964), which deals with Japan after Commander Perry broke up their isolation to the rest of the world and the chaos that their political and social classes ensued when a foreign powerful force became involved. I enjoyed this period drama, with a spectacular performance from Tetsurô Tanba as our ‘hero’ Hachiro Kiyokawa, who is attempting to fight back against these foreign powers but has to choose between his country and the future. A disturbing performance that I wasn’t expecting. Do not go into this film if you want nonstop action. Instead it’s a film that slowly bubbles until it pops.
Recently they’ve been showcasing Mikio Naruse films that aren’t in either the Criterion Collection or their Eclipse series, and this month is no different, this time giving us two films. Late Chrysanthemums (1954) and Flowing (1956). Late Chrysanthemums tells the story of a geisha who is older, losing her once youthful look and not being able to go on with that profession and has to retire. She is now a money lender, and has made a lot of money from it, even from former geisha that she used to work with, who still owe her. With his film Flowing, Naruse goes back to the brothel, with a group of geisha and their livelihood going downhill because of a mounting debt. Both films can be compared to another fantastic and fan favorite Japanese director, Mizoguchi, with these women trying to get their lives together in a world that just won’t let it be that easy. Both are fantastic and I just feel as if they could put these two together in a wonderful two pack with some extras.
Wait a second. A Seijun Suzuki film that I’ve never seen and isn’t readily available until now? Well, that’s what we get with Everything Goes Wrong (1960). And the title doesn’t lie in this case, this time describing what happens when Jirô Sugita (Tamio Kawaji) attempts to break up his mother’s relationship with a businessman. It goes from bad to worse in no time, and at 71 minutes it’s very tight. A great little Suzuki film, especially if you aren’t familiar with his body of work.
Another film that interested me simply because of the title, Third Shadow Warrior (1963), is directed by Umetsugu Inoue who hasn’t been represented in either collection or the Hulu Plus page until now. And this film was nothing that I expected. Which was a surprisingly good thing. What I expected was a samurai film, in the vein of Kurosawa’s films, but instead it’s a tale that has more to do with present day Japan (during that period) than the year 1567 where it takes place. Raizô Ichikawa plays a peasant who gets into nobility and through corruption and other horrible deeds, he falls from grace, which is blatantly a look at Japan’s ongoing social system. A cautionary tale, of sorts, where one should always beware of moving upwards in society,
Les Grande Manoeuvres (1955), Rene Clair’s first film in color, is another film that isn’t in either collection. It’s a wonder to see films that make you wonder where Criterion is going to go with them down the line. It’s a love story, concerning Gerard Phillipe, a military officer, and the woman he yearns for, played by Michele Morgan, all set in a World War I background. Clair uses the colors of the leaves and surrounding area to help guide the story.
Nine Days of One Year (1962), a wonderful Russian film by Mikhail Romm, a director many people don’t know outside of Russian film scholars. I’ve only seen one of his films, a 1956 film called Murder on the Dante Street (which Criterion should get pronto!), so this was the first time I was lucky enough to view it. And it packs a wallop. Dmitri Gusev (Aleksey Batalov) and Ilya Kulikov (Innokenti Smoktunovsky) are best friends and are also up and coming scientists in the world of nuclear physics. They both love the same woman, and Dmitri ends up with the girl of his dreams. While making an important discovery, he exposes himself to dangerous radioactivity and the rest of the film deals with Dmitri fighting against the odds and having a strong will to survive. Which then makes me want more Russian films within the Criterion Collection. So let’s get to that, even if it is more Romm films.
We’ve also gotten a bunch more of Koreyoshi Kurahara’s films from his new Eclipse series, The Warped World of Koreyoshi Kurahara. Intimidation (1960), I Hate But Love (1962), Black Sun (1964), and Thirst for Love (1966) were added this month, as well as the fifth film The Warped Ones (1960). This is why Criterion’s deal with Hulu is essential for any fan of films. You can check these films out, ones I had only heard about in passing conversations, before buying the sets themselves. And each film is jazz infused, romantic, crime driven, men on the lam from the law, romantic, 60’s infused cinema that is one of the best Eclipse sets to come out yet. Check all these films out in one day if you can and you will be dizzy from an amazing ride.
Claude Chabrol’s two films (that I wanted and like to say predicted back when he sadly passed away) Le Beau Serge (1958) and Les Cousins (1959) (which for some reason comes up as an episode of a TV series), are both early examples of Chabrol’s work and also great to jump right into, especially if you’re not familiar with this master filmmaker. As I like to tell people, Chabrol was the first of the French film critics who decided that they could do better within the realm of film making, and Le Beau Serge was his debut. A film about successful young man named Francois (Jean-Claude Brialy), who goes back home to his village after a decade and sees it hasn’t changed much. Sadly the people have, especially his old best friend Serge (Gérard Blain) who is now an alcoholic and in an unhappy marriage. A stellar debut film which then led to him making Les Cousins, one of the French New Wave films that seems to get overshadowed by Godard. Which is a shame really, because this film deserves a lot more recognition. Charles and Paul are cousins, with Charles being the good guy going to law school while Paul is the bad boy, who is a bit of a tornado that goes through life destroying those around him. When Charles falls in love with Florence, an acquaintance of Paul’s, how will Paul react to this new found love? Again, these are two films coming out on Blu-ray and DVD on September 20th so check them out, fall in love and then pre-order those discs.
We’ve talked about Pale Flower (1964) a ton on the podcast and having finally seen it, I have to say I agree with everyone’s loving words concerning Masahiro Shinoda’s amazing crime film dealing with playing cards. That is the weapon of choice in this film and it’s as tense as any film you’ll ever see and you’l with Casino Royale‘s card playing scene would have been half as good as this entire film.
Andrei Tarkovsky’s Andrei Rublev (1969) is one of the great early releases in the Criterion collection, spine number 34 to be exact. The problem with this is that it’s the original print, which leaves a lot to be desired. It reminds one that a Blu-grade is much deserved, but the film is so good that you can get past that for now. Detailing the life of Russia’s greatest painter in the 15th century. Criterion was the firs to present the film as complete as it could, at 205 minutes. Frightening, violent and even has elements of an art film, it was pushed down by the Russian government when it came out, but luckily we’re able to see this film today at the comfort of our own home.
New Truffaut! That’s what we get with his film Confidentially Yours (1984). Filmed in beautiful black and white, it tells the story of Julien Vercel (Jean-Louis Trintignant), a real estate agent who is framed for the murder of Claude Massoulier (Jean-Pierre Kalfon) during a hunting trip. On the run, the only person who sort of believes Julien is his secretary Barbara (Fanny Ardant) who starts her own investigation on who could have done the murder. It could be Julien’s wife, who was having an affair with Massoulier or someone else entirely. A great mystery movie, and it has the Truffaut edge of being a fantastic time.
A good film but nothing that truly grabbed me is Gustaf Molander’s Eva (1948), dealing with a young sailor named Bo (Birger Malmsten) who comes home from the Navy during WWII back to his home in Sweden. He recalls a childhood tragedy where he mistakenly contributed to a 10 year old blind girl’s death and is haunted about it since. He falls in love with a girl named Eva (Eva Stiberg), which should make for a good life. But he is continuously haunted by this tragedy and is worried it will happen again. One of the big things about this film is that Ingmar Bergman wrote the short story and the screenplay for the film (which I wish he directed). Also, Molander’s Intermezzo is hopefully going to be picked up by Criterion down the line. One can only hope.
Speaking of Ingmar Bergman, we get two films of his that aren’t featured in either collection yet. First up is All These Women (1964). A pretentious critic named Cornelius is bribed into writing the biography of famous cellist Jarl Kulle, he goes to stay at his house to write it. He doesn’t get to interview the cellist, but instead interviews all the women that live with him and finds out all the intimate and dirty secrets, which he hopes to use to blackmail him to perform a composition he wrote. A very offbeat comedy, one that made me laugh quite a bit on a day that I was feeling truly bummed. Thank you, Mr. Bergman. The second film is A Lesson In Love (1954), another comedy that paved the way for his more comedic side from that point on. This time dealing with a failing marriage, both of them are having affairs and how one shared train ride might lead to reconciliation. A fantastic film that I had only heard of before, it’s just another film proving why Bergman will always be considered a master.
Another Russian film, The Letter Never Sent (1960), directed by Mikhail Kalatozov (who after this film made the simply amazing I Am Cuba, which hopefully will end up back in the collection again), was a great film about four geologists searching for diamonds in Siberia. They finally find the mine and plan on bringing the map back to Moscow to reap in the reward but a forest fire is raging and they are trapped in the wilderness. What’s great is that this is the original run time, not the shortened US version, and the restoration was financed by Francis Ford Coppola. A great film that more people should sit down and watch.
La Nuit de Varennes (1982) was a film that I really wasn’t looking forward to seeing, mainly because I felt all French Revolution-ed out. That was before I saw Harvey Keitel as Thomas Paine, which put this film on the top of my list for that day of viewing. Then seeing Marcello Mastroianni as Casanova, I smacked myself for putting this film down before even viewing it. Directed by Ettore Scola, he gives the history of King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette fleeing and getting arrested a new spin by showing us the point of views of four different passengers in a stagecoach and what they think of how the events are unfolding around them.
If you’re in the mood for a very sexy film with nubile young gals and guys, then David Hamilton’s Premiers Désirs (1984). Known for his photography work, he did direct 6 total films, this being his last one actually. Innocent, provocative and a bit racy, Hamilton proves he knows how to shoot women in beautifully lighted shots. To be hones, it’s more of a series of great shots than an actual movie. There is a coming of age tale there, but you’d be hard pressed to remember exactly what happened. Instead you’ll want to see the next romantic interlude.
And last but certainly not least, we have Jean Cocteau’s Orpheus (1950), which was just released this past Tuesday. If anyone can let the readers know for sure that the new print is on Hulu or if it’s the older release, that would be amazing. Part of Cocteau’s Orphic Trilogy, Orpheus is sadly the only film now that Criterion still has the rights to. Jean Marais is amazing as the titular character, a poet who is hated by the Left Bank youth and is in love with his wife and a princess. The centerpiece to his trilogy, this film is wonderful, showcasing the land of reality and a dreamlike world, where you’re never too sure what is false and what is real. But no matter what, it’s an amazing journey and Cocteau balances it all so perfectly. You’ll fall in love with this film, be it the first time viewing it or the fifth.
And here’s a rundown of all the supplemental material that is available now on the Hulu Plus page. And we’re nice enough to give you them, all in a proper list, links and all.
The Thief of Bagdad – Visual Effects
Stagecoach – True West
Elevator to the Gallows – Miles Goes Modal
I Am Curious – Yellow – The Battle for ‘I Am Curious’”Yellow’
I Am Curious – Yellow – Barney Rosset and Edward De Grazia
Jubilee – Jubilee: a Time Less Golden
Shadows – Restoration Demo
Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Take One – Discovering William Greaves
Rome Open City – Rosellini and the City
Empire of Passion – Double Obsession: Seki, Sada and Oshima
Ossos – Video Essay
The Burmese Harp – Kon Ichikawa
The Exterminating Angel – Arturo Ripstein
The Exterminating Angel
Before the Rain – Rade Å erbedžija
Pigs and Battleships – Tony Rayns
Intentions of Murder – Tony Rayns
Children of Paradise: Video Introduction by Director Terry Gilliam
Now that was one epic Hulu-baloo article and well worth it too. I hope all of you readers out there weren’t too lost during the slight self inflicted hiatus. Hopefully it won’t happen again anytime soon. Let us know if there’s any particular films that you found out because of Hulu Plus. Comment or give us a call. And until the next time new films are put up, keep on streaming.