Author: James McNally

Good Morning, Night (Italy, director Marco Bellocchio): Buongiorno, Notte (its Italian title) is a quietly powerful film exploring the events surrounding the 1978 kidnapping (and eventual assassination) of former prime minister (and leader of the powerful Christian Democrat party) Aldo Moro by the Communist-inspired Red Brigades. The irony is that Moro had just played an instrumental role in forming a coalition government in which the Communist Party were going to participate for the first time in Italian history.

We follow events through the eyes of Chiara, a young “revolutionary” who begins to have doubts about her participation. Moro, though held for almost two months, never seems to have lost his humanity or his inner freedom. In contrast, the terrorists seem isolated from the outside world, from each other, and even from themselves in the claustrophobic apartment that has become as much their prison as Moro’s.

This is not an “action” movie. It is more contemplative, and there is a real sense of sadness, despair, and wasted life that pervades every frame. The use of actual television footage from the newscasts of the time add authenticity and bring home the fact that this is recent history. The only weakness, in my opinion, are the many scenes of Chiara dreaming of different outcomes (her poisoning her comrades, Moro walking out free). I am glad the scenes are in the film, but it is sometimes difficult to determine when she is dreaming, imagining, or actually experiencing certain events.

Overall, a powerful and humane exploration of a dark moment in Italy’s history. Bellocchio doesn’t dwell on the many conspiracy theories that are still swirling about who was responsible for the murder. Instead, he makes a film that celebrates the value of life, and mourns its waste.

(9/10)

The Tulse Luper Suitcases, Part 1: The Moab Story (UK/Netherlands, director Peter Greenaway): Here’s what the programme book has to say about this film, “The Tulse Luper Suitcases project will use five media: at least three feature-length films, television, numerous DVDs, the Internet and books. The content is a history that covers six decades, a period Greenaway refers to as the Uranium Years: from the discovery of uranium in Colorado in 1928 to the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989. Ninety-two suitcases (after the atomic number of uranium) will be opened, twenty-one of them in the first part of the project, The Moab Story.”

Of course, I don’t think most of the audience read the programme book, nor had most of them ever seen a Peter Greenaway film. Both were required prerequisites tonight. The Moab Story is a technical tour-de-force, using all manner of innovative film techniques. And all of the Greenaway obsessions are present: generous amounts of nudity (both male and female), numbers and counting, superimposition of text, sumptuous art direction, and a labyrinthine plot. I was baffled, frustrated, fascinated, baffled again, etc. It would be hard to attempt a plot outline, but the subjects covered include Mormonism, fascism, filmmaking (with winking references to several other Greenaway films), and the nature of confinement. A muddle, to be sure, but an ambitious one. Greenaway has given himself a huge canvas on which to paint a huge story. Or rather, this is like a million-piece jigsaw puzzle. Head-scratching, yes, but I can’t wait to find the next piece.

(8/10)

P.S. The website will probably not be of much interest if you haven’t seen the film, but there is a blog section where it’s possible to leave comments. Some people are leaving comments “in character” and addressing Tulse Luper as if he were a real person (and still alive, though he’d be 92).

Wilbur Wants To Kill Himself (UK/Denmark, director Lone Scherfig): I found the emotional arc of the story a bit weird, but enjoyed the film nonetheless. You see, suicide itself is not funny. But Wilbur keeps trying to kill himself in various ways which I think are supposed to be funny. Meanwhile, his longsuffering brother Harbour (hmmm…symbolism?) has just buried their father and now has no relief since he’s constantly worried about Wilbur. Then something wonderful happens. Harbour meets and falls in love with Alice, and her nine-year-old daughter Mary. They marry, and all seems well, even despite Wilbur’s almost successful suicide attempts. Then a new crisis hits.

I don’t want to spoil the film, but let me just say that things get better for Wilbur once he learns that other people need him. I was complaining to my friends that British films like this one (well, it’s a British/Danish coproduction) tend to hide their saccharine with lots of swearing. There wasn’t an unusual amount of swearing, but Wilbur’s surliness is paper-thin, hiding the proverbial “heart of gold” underneath. He’s the typical “bad boy” that women find irresistible. Harbour is the typical saint/martyr who is kind but just a bit dull (in fact, why didn’t they just call him “Safe” Harbour?). Alice, of course, loves both of them.

So although the film was tremendously acted, and had some great secondary characters (Julia Davis as sexy but flaky nurse Moira was hilarious, as was the psychologist played by Danish actor Mads Mikkelsen), I was just a little bit disappointed with the main characters. I thought a film like About A Boy took the suicide issue just a bit more seriously, while still finding abundant humour elsewhere.

(7.5/10)

Remember Me (Italy, director Gabriele Muccino): I didn’t see this film. The reason was that when picking second choices, the film I picked to follow this one started at 9:30. I didn’t even check the running time of this film until today, and it was 125 minutes, which would have made me late for the second film. Since I was meeting my friends Brent and Paul for the 9:30 film, I went down and sold my ticket to a grateful man in the rush line.

End Of The Century: The Story Of The Ramones (USA, directors Jim Fields and Michael Gramaglia): This was a warts-and-all documentary about one of my favourite bands. And I mean warts-and-all. The lighting, lack of makeup, and extreme closeups (along with this particular screening being a digital blow-up) made everyone look terrible. Johnny Ramone and Seymour Stein (former head of Sire Records) look they have some kind of melanoma, Ed Stasium (producer) was sporting a black eye, and Danny Fields (former manager) looked seriously unwell (jaundice, sores). The only ones who emerge relatively unscathed are Legs McNeil and John Holmstrom, founders of Punk magazine. This seems fitting, since they also appear to have emerged from their punk roots without suffering too much damage.

Since we were viewing a very early print, most of the video clips had not been cleared, and so had timecodes and other stuff overlaid, so that was somewhat annoying. It didn’t feel like a finished film, and the way they shot most of the interviews in extreme closeup was not very flattering to the subjects, most of whom have probably been living hard for going on fifty years.

The film was enlightening in that it broke open many of the reasons why the members of the band generally couldn’t stand each other. Joey comes off best, as the obsessive-compulsive romantic who couldn’t shake his grudge against Johnny for stealing and then marrying the woman he loved. Johnny was (and still is) cruel, demanding, and just mean, but he also was the driving force behind the band’s relentless work ethic. Dee Dee was just loopy insane, but sort of lovable in the way that damaged people are. Original drummer Tommy looks like the record producer he was meant to become, and second drummer Marky looks pretty much like the drummer he’ll always be. One moment of incredulity was when fill-in drummer Richie (from the ’80s) is interviewed in the present wearing a suit and tie! Maybe he sells insurance now.

All in all, only a few bits of new information, and with the downbeat ending (Joey and Dee Dee are no longer with us, nor is Joe Strummer, who was also interviewed in the film, and Johnny seems as unrepentant and nasty as ever), this will definitely drive me back to the records, where The Ramones seem to lose themselves in a more positive energy.

Let me take this opportunity to plug, once again, Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain’s amazing book, Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk. And though I haven’t read it, I’m sure the book Legs co-authored with Dee Dee, Lobotomy: Surviving The Ramones, is good as well. Funny, when I read Please Kill Me a few years ago, I remember hearing that it was going to be made into a film. I sure hope this wasn’t it, or I’d really have to say, “please, kill me.”

(7/10)