WHAT DID I JUST SEE?!

 

The British Film Institute poll a group of 1,639 cineastes every decade to build a list of the 100 best films of all time.  Ten years ago, it was a big deal when Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo knocked perennial favorite Citizen Kane off the top spot on the list.  But that's nothing compared to what happened to the top spot on this year's poll.    Oh boy, is there a big change: shooting up from #35 last decade, the number one film now is the Belgium film Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles.  This marks the first time that the number one film was one that was  directed by a woman.

As a person who curates a blog like this and who passionately loves to watch films from all eras, I felt a little humbled to realize that I had never even heard of writer director Chantal Akerman's film.  And then I found it available on HBO Max.  I set aside three and a half hours of time and watched it alone with intense interest.  And my reaction?  Well, let me first say that I like to think that I'm open to experimental films, and movies that play with conventional filmmaking styles.  I generally like directors like Jean Luc Goddard and Luis Bunuel. In other words, I expected something unusual and tried to open myself to the experience.

But this movie to me was almost completely unwatchable.  First, let's talk about the style, or really, its almost complete lack of any.  All of the shots in this film are at medium length without camera movement.  The takes are mostly very long with simple editing.  There's no soundtrack, and not much dialogue to speak of, and the sets are just normal, uninteresting looking locations.  Even the color of the film looks drab and lifeless, and there are some technical flaws, like a when a boom mike momentarily dips into a shot.  All of this might be alright if the story and acting were redeemable, but they aren't.  In fact, there hardly is a story.

Oh sure, one does slowly emerge, in dribs and drabs. Delphine Seyrig plays the titular character, a middle aged widow who lives with her son in a small apartment.  She sometimes turns tricks to get by.  Honestly, that description probably sounds a lot more interesting than what's on screen.  Most of this film consists of Jeanne working around her house in real time.  So we have an entire scene of a woman doing the dishes in a single take with her back to the camera.  Realize, there is no other sound on the soundtrack, no dialogue, no music, just the sound of her doing the dishes.  This goes on for five minutes.  In another scene we see her shine a pair of shoes in much the same way.  Again, this goes on for some very long minutes.  And what could be even more boring than that?  Later in the film she does both things again in the exact same way!  We also see her prepare two different meals, also in real time.

Things get even crazier in a later scene in the film in which Jeanne just sits completely still and silent in a chair.  Save for some traffic noises in the background, there is nothing in this scene to let us know that we're actually watching a film instead of staring at a photo.  Director Ackerman really seems to be daring the audience to keep watching, giving them nothing to hang on to.  It's the cinematic equivalent of wallpaper.  It beats Andy Warhol's Empire for movement, but only slightly.  The next scene seems to push Ackerman's dare to the audience even further when Jeanne picks up a neighbor's baby, which cries incessantly for a long period of time, again challenging the audience to remain seated and keep watching.

So what was Ackerman up to here?  Was she trying to make a point about the mundane nature of the average woman's life at that time?  By showcasing the small housekeeping tasks that Jeanne must engage in, is it glorifying her work, or shoving its difficulties in our faces so that we appreciate women like her more?  This has been called a feminist film, and I suppose it is (it even had an all female crew), but points about the hardships of "women's work" can be made without boring the audience. (I suppose the film's defenders would say that the boredom is the point, allowing the audience to experience the same challenges that Jeanne does).  And even if the point of the film is the difficult and repetitive nature of Jeanne's life, how does that explain the scene I mentioned before in which she sits motionless in a chair for a long period of time.  That she's finally resting, and the audience is supposed to rest with her?  I suppose, but that point could be made in far less time.

I should mention that there is some dialogue, and that the relationship between Jeanne and her son Sylvain (Jan Decorte) has some interesting moments, although even that is hurt by the fact that Sylvain talks and acts like a teenage boy but is played by the then 25 year old Decorte.  I haven't even mentioned much about Jeanne's life as a prostitute, but that's because, through out most of the film, it's incidental.  Most of the time we see her greet her client (with just a few words) walk him to her bedroom, and then cut to her later showing him out.  We never know how she feels about her clients, or how she wound up as a a prostitute in the first place.  (Does her son know?).  The film's ending (spoiler) finally shows her engaging in lifeless sex with one of her clients.  Afterwards she silently picks up a pair of scissors and stabs him in the throat.  The shock of the violence is jolting in a film that has been so lifeless up to this moment.  But there's no build up to her action, we see no real anger or rage in what she does.  Why does she stab this client?  Because she's so sick of her life that she wants to take it out on someone?  Or did he do something particularly horrible that we didn't see? Afterwards she sits in a chair, her hand covered in blood, unmoving for what seems like an eternity.  Her face is a blank mask, although she eventually drops her head, but even that gesture seems mild given what she's done.  Is she remorseful?  Excited?  Happy that she has forced a change into her life in the most dramatic way possible? We never really know.

Now that I have spent several paragraphs breaking down this film, I suppose that means that it is worthy of discussion, and I would encourage people to see it for themselves (although I imagine very few people will actually finish it!).  But I must strongly say that I think that the emperor has no clothes and that the BFI's choice of this as the best film ever seems like an absurd joke on the viewing public.  Oh sure, I understand that there is a big difference between critical tastes and popular ones, but I can't see how anyone could find this static film superior to Citizen Kane or Vertigo.  Or nearly every other film on the list for that matter.

CODA (2021)

 

CODA (DIR: SIAN HEDER) (SCR: HEDER, BASED ON LA FAMILLE BELIER, WRITTEN BY VICTORIA BEDOS, STANILAS CARRE DE MALBERG AND ERIC LARTIGAU)

While the most recent Oscar broadcast will go down in history as "that time when Will Smith slapped Chris Rock", there were a number of other interesting things that happened.  Ariana Debose became the first openly gay woman of color to win an award (Best Supporting Actress for WESTSIDE STORY), Troy Kotsur became the first deaf man to win an award (Best Supporting Actor for CODA), and, perhaps most interestingly for the future not only of the Oscars but for movies in general, CODA became the first Best Picture winner ever to  play on a streaming site (Apple+) before opening in only a few theaters.  Will streaming services soon be the only way to view certain Oscar winning films?  Obviously the theater owners of America aren't too thrilled about that prospect, but with moviegoers heading back into theaters more and more as the pandemic seems to wind down,  it has been  mostly the big blockbusters that have drawn a crowd.  It's clear that a low budget film like CODA is going to  be seen on small screens by most people, as foreign and independent films go the streaming route.  Personally, I think that that is a shame, given that I prefer those kinds of movies and enjoy seeing them on the big screen. Really, the pandemic just seemed to accelerate a growing trend of audiences only going to see big spectacle movies in the theaters and staying home for everything else.

In any event, CODA was a bit a of surprise winner, given that it was nominated for only 3 awards (Best Picture, Supporting Actor and Adapted Screenplay), while Jane Campion's Western THE POWER OF THE DOG was up for a whopping 12.  Add to that the fact that CODA is the rare Best Picture winner to not even get a Best Director nomination, and its victory seemed unlikely. But then Campion's more complicated film is a tougher sell than CODA, which tells a simple, moving story with likable characters.  So maybe a sweet film like CODA winning in a world coming out of a pandemic and looking for something uplifting isn't all that surprising after all.  In any event, CODA is such a good natured film, so openly trying to coax tears from its audience, that I found it hard to resist, even if I also think it was far from perfect. 

It tales the story of teenager Ruby (Emilia Jones) who lives with her father Frank (Kotsur), mother Jackie (Marlee Matlin) and older brother Leo (Daniel Durant).  Ruby is the only member of her family that isn't deaf.  They make a living fishing, with each family member helping out.  When Ruby joins the choir at school, her teacher, Bernardo (Eugenio Derbez) thinks she has potential and personally trains her while encouraging her to try out for a scholarship to a musical academy.  But her parents want her to stay with them and continue to help out with their struggling business.

Emilia Jones

CODA began as a French film (LA FAMILLE BELIER) released in 2014.  While the film was a hit in France, it sparked some controversy because deaf characters were sometimes portrayed by actors who weren't actually deaf.  When Sian Heder was brought it to adapt and direct an American version of the film, she made sure not to make the same mistake.  It didn't hurt that the first person she cast for the film was Marlee Matlin, the deaf actress who herself had won an Oscar back in 1986, and who is probably the  most famous deaf actor in Hollywood.  And for the crucial lead role of Ruby, Heder cast English born actress Jones, who spent months learning both sign language and how to fish.  The film was shot  on location in Gloucester, Massachusetts.  After it was debuted at the Sundance Film Festival in Utah, it was purchased by Apple for a festival record 25 million dollars.

In a way it's not surprising to me that Heder was not nominated for Best Director, given that, apart from some lovely shots of fishing boats, the direction here is far from striking.  Really, one get the impression that she knew that this film was fated to be seen mostly on smaller screens, so visuals are not a high priority here.  Still, the film does have a nice sense of place, with what seems to be a realistic depiction of the highs and lows of living life as a fishing boat worker.  Heder's script (for which she won a Best Adapted Screenplay award) tells the story well, but is often predictable; yes, there's a scene in which Ruby's brother is called a "freak" for being deaf, yes, the family eventually supports her singing dreams, and yes, it even ends with a group family hug.  All quite formulaic.    It also never explains just how the family overcomes their financial difficulties. 

So, to the extent that the film works, it works on the strength of its performances: Jones is very good here, capably carrying the film and playing a teen girl who's likable without being perfect (she does yell "I hate you!" at her parents at one point).  Plus she has a nice chemistry with Ferdia Walsh-Peelo as her boyfriend Miles.  And most of the rest of the cast is also very good, with Kotsur's earthy but soulful  performance as Ruby's dad being a standout (he pretty much won his Best Supporting Actor award for his enthusiastic signing about birth control in one scene.)  The one performance I didn't care for is Derbez as Ruby's music instructor; perhaps because the inspiring teacher character is such a cliche, Derbez's performance and the script seem to play up his more eccentric behavior, making him too over the top for my taste. 

SO DID THE ACADEMY GET IT RIGHT?

I think that it's clear that I admire this film but don't actually love it.  I think Stephen Spielberg's lovely new version of WEST SIDE STORY is a better film.  I also preferred NIGHTMARE ALLEY, LICORICE PIZZA and the underrated TICK, TICK, BOOM...Still, CODA isn't a bad choice.  

THE 2021 OSCAR NOMINATIONS: FIRST IMPRESSIONS

 Given that the state of movies playing in theaters seems to be precarious these days (although the latest Spiderman movie is packing them in), the announcement of the Oscar nominations this morning was a less lighthearted affair than it usually is.  Still, even during a pandemic, the Oscar nominations are always big news to film fans like me.  Right away, it was interesting to see the Academy have ten nominations for Best Picture (last year there were only 8).  Perhaps the Academy is trying to drum up interest in theater going by spreading the love?  Hard to say.

In any event, there were some surprises: to me the biggest was the complete shut out of Wes Anderson's terrific THE FRENCH DISPATCH (poor Anderson has been nominated 7 times without winning!).  I was also disappointed that Lynn Manuel Miranda's first rate musical TICK,TICK...BOOM was not given a Best Picture nomination (although Andrew Garfield's performance in the film is up for Best Actor ).  Speaking of Best Picture, I was really surprised to see Adam McKay's DON'T LOOK UP up for that award, considering that the film's critical reception was mostly lukewarm (it got three other nominations too).  Still, it was very popular on Netflix, and it's certainly a timely satire (and the all star cast doesn't hurt either).

With twelve nominations, the most of any film, Jane Campion's western THE POWER OF THE DOG seems to be the front runner for Best Picture.  While I personally didn't love the film, its Oscar success makes for a nice comeback for Campion, who, after her 1993 film THE PIANO was a surprise hit that won 3 Oscars, hasn't had much of an impact in this country since.  Another favorite contender for the top award is Kenneth Branagh's bittersweet, autobiographical film BELFAST, which tells the kind of simple, uplifting story about tolerance that the Academy often embraces.  And then there's Steven Spielberg's new version of WEST SIDE STORY, which may have an outside chance because the Academy often favors musicals.  It also wouldn't hurt to help the well reviewed film out, considering that it's box office has been underwhelming.  Perhaps the Academy will want to help give a boost to the popular Spielberg.  And it would be the first time that a remake of a film that won Best Picture also wins Best Picture, which would be an interesting turn of events.  (And I for one thought that it was a great movie).

This year will see the return of a large crowd for the show at the Dolby Theater in Hollywood, a nice change after last year's subdued, scaled down  show.  Whether or not this return to normalcy will result in better ratings for the show (which have been slumping for years) remains to be seen.  Either way, I'll be watching, partly just to get the sense that the world is finally returning to normal.