This Week... [6th to 10th of February 2013]

From https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3xoHI88t22xxz2kG_qX4yH9nxbALqsBIw0f6dHJyj8a191fIjPHne5eytBRPXlLWys9m-0ZCUJJIPX1iZjWw1jxF0EUiF4Dus5tYrqBNhIbQM87nFBI9tIvOIre701ZSuRnKMbSu3CBM/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-07-27+at+5.58.46+PM.png

6^th February: Bullhead (Michael R. Roskam, 2011)

The first good film for me for 2013 and a good start of the year. It is divided between being an art film and a gene crime movie, but completely avoids the dangers of both. It is not vague minimalist European cinema of this decade, its Flanders location distinct and a sense of uniqueness to the characters within it, and thankfully avoids the fetishisation of violence that exists in many films of now even if Bullhead has its cringe worthy moments. It has a welcome and surprisingly deep streak of humanity within it where, despite the repellent actions of the characters including the titular one, played excellently Matthias Schoenaerts, you can still see them as flawed human beings. Schoenaerts’ character is a literal bull, violent and mindless at times but at other moments completely sympathetic, his subplot of his traumatic childhood, rather than becoming a trite inclusion as I feared it would be, adding to the scrutinising of masculinity throughout the movie. For his debut, Roskam has started off his career perfectly with this.

From http://history.sffs.org/i/films/1967/Story_of_a_three_day_pass_T.jpg

7^th February: The Story of A Three-Day Pass (Melvin Van Peebles, 1968)

Another debut, another perfect beginning for a director’s career, but viewing this one lets me see more to a man only known by most people for Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song (1971). Following a black American soldier in France (Harry Baird in a great performance) as he is given a three day leave to travel the country, he meets Miriam (Nicole Berger, also great but sadly, at such a young age at 32, dying in a car crash not long after this film) and embarks on a romantic relationship within those days. What could have turned into a conventional story is a breath of fresh air from Van Peebles; when it feels like it is going to turn into the most generic of narratives about race and racism, the director-writer makes it a sweet drama instead where ethnicity is tackled in a far more subdued and thoughtful way as a subtext alongside the main romance. It’s also an utterly playful film, part of the French New Wave and implementing inspired uses of jump cuts, editing and duplicating Baird to interact with himself in place of internal monologues, all of which adds to the story. I may be seeing more of Van Peebles’ work through the year, but after this film even Sweet Sweetback... will be an entirely brand new for me upon re-watching it.

From http://content.internetvideoarchive.com/content/photos/187/00787615_.jpg

8^th February: Blood Thirsty (Jeff Frey, 1999)

If you want to see the lowest of the low, this is it. A new tenant at an apartment realises the female owner has a desire for drinking blood, not as an actual vampire, but an addiction to cutting willing participants and consuming their blood through the wound. A potentially great idea, but shot on cheap video camera and with only one real set in the apartment itself, I did prepare myself for something bad yet I wasn’t expecting this. It is the dullest type of drama where for all the plot and fractured relationships between the women and the apartment owner’s boyfriend, it is just lifeless and as the plotting gets more and more melodramatic it becomes dumber and insufferable. It’s flirting with mental illness, and especially self harm, eventually becomes offensive and was the final straw to put this as one of the worst films I’ve seen. Even the potential of this being softcore, with a lesbian twist, is worthless, the sex scenes being abrupt, up-close images of arms and legs scored to some of the worst music you can hear. I am willing to see the worst of cinema, as the ongoing season shows, but I wish I could forget this one.

9^th February: In Absentia / The Cabinet of Jan Švankmajer / This Unnameable Little Broom / Rehearsals For Extinct (Stephen and Timothy Quay, 2000 /1984 / 1985 / 1986)

As a Jan Švankmajer fan, I have somewhat dismissed (neglected) about the twin animators Stephen and Timothy Quay, whose influence from Švankmajer goes as far as the short film above, part of a documentary about the Czeck director. That short I’ve included helps far more so to show what the Quays’ work is like, and as I am re-seeing their filmography, they’ve shown to be a lot more rewarding for their artistry and imagination in these shorts. In Absentia, based on the real life case of Emma Hauck, a married woman who was put into a mental institution, is the best of the ones mentioned, a disturbing collage of visuals and sound that creeps under your skin as you view it. All I can really say is that you, the reader should investigate these films as soon as you can.

From http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mch88w1WDN1qzzh6g.jpg

10^th February: Vertigo (Alfred Hitckcock, 1958)

I may need to rewatch this again for a third time, but upon revisiting it Vertigo felt like an immense disappointment. It looks beautiful, and Bernard Herrmann’s score is exceptional, but its plot isn’t that interesting and takes too long to establish its narrative. Against Hitchcock’s The Birds (1963) and Psycho (1960) it doesn’t hold a candle to their quality upon this viewing, despite its lush melodrama and James Stewart trying to twist his well known image into something more ominous. I do wonder, even if I fall in love with this film on another viewing, whether its positioning as the best film ever made by Sight & Sound magazine may prove to have been a bad decision in hindsight, again letting another film (like Citizen Kane (1941)) become a museum piece and not really connecting to the beauty of cinema’s eclectic nature. I was disappointed by the plainness of the whole 2012 poll, only having any real interest in the odd and unconventional individual choices by critics and directors that would (sadly) never get into the top 100 list as the results were collected together. That poll probably coloured my viewing of Vertigo this time, but it has to be considered, in hindsight to the negative reaction to the film, whether canonical lists like this ever actually succeed or just completely undermine the point of cinema as an artform and entertainment. At least with individuals’ lists the writer allows themselves to open up about their personal tastes, while the overall results of a poll usually become predictable and, relaying on a numbered tally, may not necessarily mean they are the films that the voters hold the closest to their hearts. I may have been disillusioned by the American critic Armond White since last year, but his words on the Sight & Sound poll that Vertigo’s victory “merely replaces Kane to show a new era’s unoriginal taste and obsessive interest in pathology and soullessness that’s been building in certain film cliques at least since the film‘s 1996 reissue...” feels like an alarm bell in my mind warning me of the inept laziness of cinematic culture. Yes, because of the poll I rewatched the exceptional masterpiece Man With A Movie Camera (1929), deserving its day on the podium by being on that list, but the fear that this poll turns great cinema into celluloid taxidermy, with some added “herd mentality” to quote White again, is discomforting.

This Week... [1st to 5th of February 2013]

From https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaqdAMiPaMio7Qiy21oFQkc6PL6H_4SV0bqgZfOJMQXX4g4Gh23mslWJWJDvzXqtvcF-0QR_jBTP3r1GCkaMeld15_etg7txDC1QdTQnbwQiOGmpTaXNneUJ0TmwD-ti2aQNAc69FE_f0/s1600/rohe02.jpg

February 1^st: The Birds and The Bees Disc 1

I do not watch films just for entertainment or messages. As someone who has an interest in history as well, film viewing can also be a dive into the past even for all of cinema’s schlockier aspects. A double set from the British Film Institute collecting together sex education films made in Britain, the first disc, which goes from 1917 with Whatsoever A Man Soweth to 1938, mostly deals with the crisis of venereal disease, particularly the dangers of syphilis when it was still a major contagion. I will admit that if all the films were about this, it would have been a struggle to get through the films even as archival material. Thankfully The Mystery of Marriage (1932), despite dancing around the subject of sex for good taste, is a legitimately charming short film, comparing human relationships to those of animals and plants in witty ways. These earlier films are also fascinating, not just for the social and historical context, but also as movies. They sometimes get too preachy unfortunately even for educational shorts, and they can be viewed as dated in their gender politics in depicting women as willing carriers of STDs, but they are also fully structured, mini-dramas around thirty minutes each with narrative arches and characters. One, A Test For Love (1932), also contrasts the mostly male centric concerns by having the protagonist being a young woman who is infected and feels the social stigma of what that represents. Even in the area of films to teach the public about gonorrhoea, in an area of education (sex and reproduction) which is still embarrassing to some and a controversial topic even in the present day, especially with the lessons taught to children, you get the directors nonetheless playing with various dramatic and directorial flourishes they could come up with as long as they made a short that gave people a lesson. The films feel like meat-and-potatoes melodramas and B-movies than merely documents to pass on information viewing them now; the director of A Test of Love, Vernon Sewell, did become a prominent director and worked with Peter Cushing, so I cannot dismiss this thought.

From https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQ77JAQuFs-E2UPUKiwImAO9b6HQdzr56W92BOtbiBf1JhgjdqdMmBk51CHK0p4L_zUYurvvKHTgIiEREXEg65Qbp9lgIxi1e_Iw-JyruPyyHTPL9Z-ePiVrj2YT0e1BFcFEeYalue5I/s1600/opening_credits.jpg

2^nd February – GoldenEye (Martin Campbell, 1995)

Catching up with more James Bond films within the last four months, I’m finding that I’m not enjoying them as I wish I should. The only ones that have grabbed me, You Only Live Twice (1967) and Diamonds Are Forever (1971), do so because the former goes as far as it can with its Sixties aesthetics mixed with Japanophile chique, and the later because it is so ridiculous that any patriotic feelings are squashed by Mr. Kidd and Mr. Whit’s presence. It may also be because, as the only two Sean Connery Bond films I’ve seen in this recent re-evaluation, that so far nobody does it better than the first person and films in the series. After a long absence from the failure of Licence To Kill (1989), and made in the prime decade of mainstream cultural weirdness, GoldenEye sadly doesn’t become a grand return for the character or a crackpot piece of pulp, but something stuck in-between without really succeeding in either. It’s a two hour film that doesn’t have enough to justify that length but somehow is that long. Pierce Brosnan does make a great Bond, and it has its moments, including Alan Cummings stealing all the scenes he’s in, but the film’s transitions and plot turns feel arbitrary rather than pulling you into them. Considering its incredibly surreal, and stunning, opening credits sequence based on the fall of the Soviet Union, and a major scene taking place in a graveyard for Soviet monuments, it never however strengthens this peculiar tone or tackles real life history with enough pulpy thought to it that it deserves, especially since the series was born in the age of the Cold War. When a new, female, M played by Judi Dench calls Bond a ‘misogynistic dinosaur’, it should be a sign of a film that drags its hero’s ideology over broken glass or pushes the more lurid nature of the character to the lengths like the Sixties Bond films did. Instead however Bond is blasé about all this and just continues with sleeping with women and killing as he has done every time before without the smirk or edge that should have been there after those words were uttered.

From http://www.ukdvdsonline.com/UserFiles/productImages/bfivd915.jpg

3^rd February – The Birds and The Bees Disc 2

Disc 2 of this set is more divisive. The later films – 1940 to 1973 – go from short form dramas to purely educational shorts for the most part, which takes away from their interest aside from the sociological aspects to them. There are some that stand out – the animation Six Little Jungle Boys (1945) and an American made film directed by the editor of The Testament of Dr. Mabuse (1933) – and the social aspects of the films themselves are still fascinating. Despite the growing frankness in the topics, you can argue the films become more puritanical in tone, and in the case of Don’t Be Like Brenda (1973), a mirror film to A Test of Love  about a young women also victimised by stigmatism that is far and away more sexist and patronising in tone than the sympathetic earlier short. There was also a fine line with sex education that was broken, shown breaking with the inclusion of the controversial film Growing Up (1971). Made by Dr Martin Cole, its depictions of real male and female masturbation caused an outrage, the booklet with the DVD set containing some of the most obscene and violent complain letters Cole got. Growing Up would probably never be acceptable to view in a classroom this era either, with the usual diagrams used in these films replaced by actual people, including children, being the stand-ins, which was extremely uncomfortable viewing for me as someone raised in this decade’s view on sexual morality. It is worth thinking of this film though compared to the education on the subject most of us got; my own was honest and detailed, taught in primary school and later taught in secondary school, but the approach Dr Cole used of real acts of sexual practice being depicted is probably too far even now for some and, to my hazy memory, never was used in the films my classes were shown. If these shorts, put together in an exceptional set from the BFI, are to be learnt from, it is the knowledge of how the taboos and views on sex and sexuality in the United Kingdom have changed, and have not, and how they are inherently my country’s views on them.

From http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7z8o5DWvO1rnni91o1_500.jpg

4^th February – A Deadly Invention (Karel Zeman, 1958)

The two dimensional world of stop motion, papercraft and animation are combined with live action in this incredible visual achievement. Based on the work of Jules Vern, of pirates and their desire to use a professor’s new technology as a destructive super weapon, the world depicted is made from the use of extensively fabricated sets and props, to create the sort of thing I am showing below, the only way to fully show what A Deadly Invention looks like...

From http://24.media.tumblr.com/cfa58bb98b82593842fc08e65a07374d/tumblr_mgirn2Z0R71qgfhxdo1_500.gif

If there is a potential flaw with this film, it’s the same that has effective many films which combine live action with animated artistry, even Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988) to some extent, in that the actors themselves and their plot is not as fascinating as the world around them and do not fully become one with it. The film is still a marvel to see as an animation fan, flying boats, underwater divers fighting a giant octopus, animated birds against real people, and countless other sights that sparkle. When the film gets comfortable with its tone, from a great scene onwards where one sees how people get their news and sports coverage from a giant “movie” projector, A Deadly Invention becomes great entertainment as well as a fest for the eyes.

From http://www.moviehoppingisnotacrime.com/_/rsrc/1349988730674/night-ten-cannibal-apocalypse/caradice.png?height=225&width=400

5^th February – Cannibal Apocalypse (Antonio Margheriti, 1980)

Link to a review here - Cannibal Apocalypse Mini-Review

This Week... #7 (19th December to 25th December 2012)

The Christmas festivities are over and the New Year is just a few days away. The following were the films I watched before and during Christmas. Ironically the films in pairs have striking similarities and things to compare to one another – excluding The Sun (2005), although even then comparisons can be made to it amongst the other films despite their obvious differences - which I only realise typing up these reviews.

From http://twitchfilm.com/assets/2011/08/kotoko_03.jpg_large.JPG

19^th December 2012: Kotoko (Shinya Tsukamoto, 2011)

The story of a single mother who suffers from double vision; caring for her baby is a nerve-wrecking task that eventually leads her to a nervous breakdown. She is suspected of being a child abuser when things get out of control and her baby is taken away. (IMDB)

It is a little disheartening in the first few scenes to see the director of Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1989) filming in a very low budget, shot-on-video film, but despite this hindrance, he transcends it and succeeds to make a great film. Not only does he take advantage of the technical flaws of the digital camera used to create abstract and nightmarish sequences, but it is wonderful to see the veteran auteur go full circle and show the beating human heart that has existed in his films since Tetsuo II: Body Hammer (1992). Behind the horrible violence in the film, based as much on its lead actress Cocco’s experiences with mental illness, are real emotions, the extremities in Tsukamoto’s films a cathartic representation of the internal conflicts that his characters, including ones played by himself, suffer from, shown on the beautiful face of Cocco fully in a great central role. Existing before Japanese cult cinema was about goofy prosthetics and ‘extreme’ content, Tsukamoto’s first film to be released in Britain in years shows that he is still a unique and talented director.

From http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lqwwn5eI2j1qmemvwo1_500.jpg

20^th December 2012: Dans Ma Peau (Marina De Van, 2002)

A woman grows increasingly fascinated with her body after suffering a disfiguring accident. (IMDB)

It was probably not a good idea to watch this the day after Kotoko, both portraying very gruesome sequences and subject matter, but they are an intriguing pair of films to see one after the other, one a male director who channelled the observations and thoughts of its lead actress, who was a singer/musician beforehand, the other the debut of a French actress who placed herself within the lead role to channel the main concept of the feature without fear of what she would look like onscreen during certain scenes. Kotoko feels far more successful as it’s from a director who, despite an even lower budget, can pace his films more steadily, and made a move as much full of sad tenderness within it alongside the horror, with scenes of Kotoko with her family and the lead actress’ performance. Dans Ma Peau, viewed in the first time in many years, before my twenties, is colder, more vicious in tone and content, and eventually starts to lag before it reaches an implosive climax. It is still an admirable film, far more than merely sick content, but comparable legitimately to the body horror films of David Cronenberg in its distant but probing analysis of the main character’s alien syndrome, the real life obsession with self harm and distance from one’s body made into a psychological disorder as much as Cronenberg’s Crash (1996) made the erotic/violent side of injury and destroyed automobiles into a mental state for its characters. De Van has made at least two other feature films, and short works, a striking presence in the main role as well, which I want to see at some point as the talent she showed in this shines regardless of the flaws.

From http://auteursnotebook.s3.amazonaws.com/Individual%20images/the-sun.jpg

21^st December 2012: The Sun (Alexander Sokurov, 2005)

Third part in Aleksandr Sokurov's tetrology, following Molokh and Telets, focuses on Japanese Emperor Hirohito and Japan's defeat in World War II when he is finally confronted by Gen. Douglas MacArthur who offers him to accept a diplomatic defeat for survival. (IMDB)

The Sun is an arthouse film in its fullest definition – minimalist yet dense in its mostly set based locations, slow paced and made of mostly static camera shots – but is also an exceptionally peculiar film. Already undercut by the real life history of Emperor Hirohito and how Japan was defeated in World War II, it becomes far more uncomfortable in its visual look – mostly artificial sets and images that, unless the version on the Artifical Eye DVD is a rare slip in quality for the company, are intentionally flawed and grainy in places – and a score that prickles with a frightening mood. It is a difficult film yet paradoxically it is a simple one: of an Emperor, chosen by divine blood rite before disavowing his godliness in surrendering for his country in the war, shown to be human in both his everyday, pedantic activities and a humanity that, bleeding into the film’s tone occasionally, allows for moments of light hearted humour as well as its serious ideas. Only the sequences with General Douglas MacArthur let the film down a bit, awkward in their introduction of more blatant analysis of the Pacific War, and that actor Robert Dawson looks like he has a ridiculously large, prophetic forehead, which a director as stringent in his work like Alexander Sokurov should have avoided from the start as such a silly concern is distracting from the importance of the material.

From http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lj4maf7iFN1qi2jr5o1_500.jpg

22^nd December 2012: Dennis Potter’s Cold Lazarus (Renny Rye, 1996)

Dr. Emma Porlock and her colleagues, attempting to unlock the secrets of human memory for the Masdon drug empire, get a cryogenically stored 400-year-old human head to project its memories through virtual reality displays. But Porlock and her team are chronically under-funded, and she may have to go around Masdon to a media sleaze merchant to get the money she needs to maintain the project. But an even more complex world of secret police, RON (Reality-Or-Nothing) riots, and murder is going on outside the lab. And the deeper Porlock goes into the frozen memories of the writer Daniel Feeld, the more twisted the labyrinth of intrigue becomes. (IMDB)

I have only seen two of Dennis Potter’s television works, Karaoke (1996) and its quasi-sequel Cold Lazarus, but I can see the talent he had, a full depth in the dialogue characters speak and willingness as a writer to undermine and question reality and form, including his own life. Drawing on his rapidly approaching death, Karaoke is a fascinating meta mini-series. Cold Lazarus is such a drastic and unexpected shift for any viewer to encounter, especially when it continues with its lead character (Albert Finney) existing with an entirely different genre from the drama of before.

Made in the nineties, and made for British television, this science fiction work looks like something from its discordant time period, but its apparent datedness actually adds so much personality to a mini-series that, while certainly flawed, was a brave attempt for its script’s author to do, the last before his death that took the risk of exploring a new genre for himself while tackling his own failing mortality. If one gets past the ridiculously broad stereotypes of greedy, dumb American business tycoons, it still has some fascinating ideas on memory, in a way that can go from intelligent perceptions on it to ridiculously lewd and hilarious dialogue. It’s also an early role for Ciarán Hinds who, in a strong cast, stands out immensely.

From http://image.toutlecine.com/photos/i/n/n/innocence-ghost-in-ii-2004-25-g.jpg

23^rd December 2012: Ghost In The Shell 2 – Innocence (Mamoru Oshii, 2004)

In the year 2032, Batô, a cyborg detective for the anti-terrorist unit Public Security Section 9, investigates the case of a female robot--one created solely for sexual pleasure--who slaughtered her owner. (IMDB)

From the films I’ve seen Mamoru Oshii, the original Ghost in the Shell (2005) is a culturally important landmark, and utterly incredible in its animation, but is a film with far too many mistakes to be more than a minor film in Oshii’s filmography, especially against works like Angel’s Egg (1985) and Patlabor 2 (1993), far too bogged down in its philosophical digressions, in how it is shown rather than the ideas themselves, and how it is put against its action scenes. Its sequel suffers as well but controversially I prefer it to the prequel after finally seeing it for the first time. Its presentation of really intelligent, thoughtful ideas on human existence is laboured, especially when characters start quoting the Bible and Confucius, without using its humour and characters’ eccentricities as fully as something like Cold Lazarus does, and the hand drawn animation of its prequel is the most striking of the two, but it’s a brave, utterly beautiful film, regardless of its CGI, and as an action sci-fi movie as well it is more fulfilling. It, at this moment, has the higher placement above its prequel for a sequence in a mansion later on, of realities within realities, that is out-of-the-blues, utterly bizarre and freakish at times, and incredible in how perfectly put together it is, from how it knocks the viewer out of their complacency and in how it shows the sequence’s philosophical ideas so clearly in its intentionally confusion, far more so than anything else within its story. Alongside the late Satoshi Kon’s work, it shows that Japanese anime is probably one of the best artforms to convey the plasticity of human beings’ perception of reality.

From http://s3.amazonaws.com/auteurs_production/post_images/83/Bad_bees.jpg?1272322523

24^th December 2012: The Valley of the Bees (Frantisek Vlacil, 1967)

Ondrej, a young boy who loves bees and bats, is introduced to his new mother, a woman much younger than his father. He brings her a basketful of flowers which she starts to throw in the air and then gives out a shriek, as she discovers several bats in the bottom of the bowl. In a rage, Ondrej's father picks the boy up and hurls him against the wall. As the boy lays on the ground paralyzed the father promises the Holy Virgin to dedicate the boy to her if she spares his life. Ondrej survives and is raised in a strict Knightly Order, where he is mentored by a devout monk, Armin. But one day, an extraordinary event makes him doubt the Order and remember where he came from. (IMDB)

It’s surprising how many more European films from the earlier decades feel far more rigorous in their look and visual design to many current arthouse films; it’s even more surprising, and sad, how many modern European films, and arthouse films from any country, look identical to each other and feel exceptionally inferior to films like Frantisek Vlacil’s The Valley of the Bees. More conventional in tone and structure to his monolith Marketa Lazarová (1967), Vlacil’s film is nonetheless a great analysis of religious ideology and morality filtered through a medieval world that is vivid in its narrative and the visual splendour Vlacil brought to the material.

From https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDEHg1SdBO484fLPK5gEm74BFTRsXyL8JnPQzT-CsAdfMvuUc3qYRQcRAND6HCU5yH00Ht7uRE_OsolWt2l1YKS3jhZ9R6se5pINTmV36zO8Xnx88ggx1-nSf4DsNu92dncjbf-8NLzYg/s1600/black-death-movie-11.jpg

25^th December 2012: Black Death (Christopher Smith, 2010)

Set during the time of the first outbreak of bubonic plague in England, a young monk is given the task of learning the truth about reports of people being brought back to life in a small village. (IMDB)

In contrast to The Valley of the Bees, this is another medieval set film that fails to work. It is a genre film, of an entirely different tone and style to Vlacil’s, but it still fails in terms of what its director intended to do. It could have been good, but as well as being generic in its blood filled, period story, near the end it starts to question its supernatural tone, leaving its message muddled and hacking out its own legs from under it by becoming another modern genre film that ends on an unsatisfactory note. 

This Week...#6 (12th December to 14th December 2012)

A much longer segment this time.

From https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5W9GrVlgQl8xXFofCtl6Eeg_tMbwXdjd0sJLNP5VCbaDcDE9BWQI4lGELF73ThmjFsUSUFI6pD4JW9RlJRMtets6irZcThbDiubJ7mL4qIno6Rm8nsEf4KGeeNbQJxu6VX1fy1QwrVS7v/s1600/black+Jack.jpg

12^th December 2012: Black Jack (Osamu Dezaki, 1996)

Joe Carol Brain attempts to hire Dr. Black Jack on a breed of superhumans that have the strength, intellectual, athletic, and artistic skills with great excel in different fields, only to later find out that they start deteriorating after some period of time and causing an untimely death. Joe needs Dr. Black Jack's help on finding a cure. (Anime News Network)

Based on a famous manga by Osamu Tezuka, this is the only animated medical thriller I know exists and is exceptionally good. Like Tezuka himself, a doctor before he became the most influential manga artist in Japan but also a creator of very fantastical content, this is a film that combines detailed realism, with medical consultants in the credits, with intentionally unrealistic concepts to heighten the drama. The animation is incredible, not as abstract as some of the work the late Osamu Dezaki and his reoccurring character designer Akio Sugino I have seen have been, but it is just as full of detail and experimentation with its look and tone, making it far from the stereotype of anime and more of a playful yet pulpy story.

From http://img32.imageshack.us/img32/4343/vlcsnap12005.jpg

13^th December 2012: Central Bazaar (Stephen Dwoskin, 1975)

Consult the review I did for Halloween 31 For 31 here – http://regionincognito.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/the-candid-eye-central-bazaar-1976.html?zx=d3d69718dfd73a6e. It still lives up to the positive review I gave it two months ago.

From http://www.dvdtimes.co.uk/protectedimage.php?image=JohnWhite/lupin1.jpg_12072008

14^th December 2012: Lupin The Third – The Secret of Mamo (Soji Yoshikawa, 1978)

Lupin risks death to learn the secret and intentions of a wealthy and seemingly immortal, but certainly ruthless, recluse. (IMDB)

[Taken from a review I wrote on MUBI.com - http://mubi.com/users/227381/filmography] ‘Watching this and the late Osamu Dezaki’s 1996 adaptation of the manga Black Jack, I feel both sad at how a lot of anime made now, after the transition from hand drawn to digital animation, has lost its courage to be experimental and braver in its content, with only the film Redline as of yet standing out*, but grateful that, once in a while, works this strange, hilarious and imaginative get released on DVD by companies like Manga Entertainment. Its gender politics is of the times of its original source material, but this is a film that is fun and surreal, a term I can use fully because actual Surrealist paintings get incorporated into the scenery in one of the many inspired pieces of the films. The director Soji Yoshikawa, who sadly never made another theatrical film, brings a uniquely abstract tone to a story far more rambunctious, and sexually explicit, than the equally great The Castle of Cagliostro by Hayao Miyazaki. The screen writer Atsushi Yamatoya deserves credit too though as he also wrote Seijun Suzuki's Branded To Kill, which explains completely why this film is as wonderfully insane as it is. Even in the late nineties, with the infamous Neon Genesis Evangelion: The End of Evnagelion, and Rintaro’s equally infamous (but beautiful) adaptation of X, there were some startling visions made in anime, a lot of which are sadly lost by pandering to otaku and unerotic fanservice, but looking back at films like The Secret of Mamo, it shows just how much of an artform anime is while the creators of this animation were gleefully and willingly able to make things as demented as this Lupin film for hell of it. It feels less like the insidiously and dubious idea that the Japanese are inherently weird, like many Westerners paint the culture as, but that their pop culture creators, like Soji Yoshikawa, are given free rein to indulge in whatever ideas they want, far more so than in the West, as long as it can be marketed to an audience in some way.’

From http://horrornews.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/Body-Count-1987-Movie-4.jpg

15^th December 2012: Bodycount aka. Camping del terrore (Ruggero Deodato, 1986)

A bodybuilder, a junk-food addict and a wild blonde nymph and their friends are stalked by a terrifying figure. An horrific tale of murder as a fun-loving group of college students explore the Colorado wilderness. (IMDB)

Not watched in the best version possible, but this is pretty much a slasher film at its most generic. Slasher films are one of my least favourite subgenres, but what annoys me with Bodycount is that it starts off as an interesting and amusingly cheesy movie, only to suddenly drop in quality half way through, where it seems to be procrastinating for no reason and not really making the repeated plotting from other slasher films interesting at all.

From http://www.artificial-eye.com/database/dvd/ART461DVD/images/01.jpg

16^th December 2012: La Pointe Courte (Agnes Varda, 1955)

There are two parts to this film: sequences of life in the fishing village of La Pointe Courte (a government inspector's visit, the death of a child) alternate with others following a couple - He is from La Pointe Courte, she is Parisian - coming to terms with their changing relationship.  (IMDB)

While I have seen only a few films by her, I can say nonetheless that Agnes Varda is one of best discoveries in terms of directors I never saw any films from before this year. Her debut is a little rawer and flawed compared to the other films I have seen, but it is still impressive. Split into two sides, the main one with the couple is a bit too arch in places, but is still striking, weaved into the other side of the film, an overview of a coastal community, to create a fascinating feature. Visually, La Pointe Courte is incredible in terms of camera work and how Varda shows the environment onscreen. I would recommend Cleo from 5 to 7 (1962) first for anyone who hasn’t seen a Varda film, but this is still a great work and an even better way to debut as a film director.

From http://i2.listal.com/image/1864747/500full.jpg

17^th December 2012: Escape From The Bronx (Enzo G. Castellari, 1983)

A ragtag group of people have to fight extermination squads amid their ruined city. (IMDB)

I didn’t put a review up on Castellari’s 1990, The Bronx Warriors, although one by me can be found here as well - http://mubi.com/users/227381/filmography - but both of the films are very solid, underrated Italian genre films for what they are. Yes they are trashy, fitting considering the main character for both is called Trash, ridiculous, and a filtering of American films blatantly put together, but like great Italian exploitation cinema, or any country’s genre cinema that borrows ideas from popular Hollywood films, there is a love and desire from those who make the films, if just the director, to make something for an audience to enjoy and to try to be as creative with the material as possible. The first film was great in terms of its look and the world it depicted, but Escape From The Bronx improves on the biggest issue from the film that, for a director loved for his action scenes, it felt lacking in the area. Escape From The Bronx more than compensates for this, while continuing the lovably cheesy charm of the first film, and is very well directed and made too like the prequel. Also having Henry Silva as villain who, despite being one dimensional, still has moments in the spotlight to be charismatic in his evilness adds to the film too, especially when you consider that many potentially great genre films just get slapdashidly put together.

From http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v460/dyd/StreetLaw_2.jpg

18^th December 2012: Street Law (Enzo G. Castellari, 1974)

Carlo Antonelli, an engineer from Genoa, gets mugged and decides to take justice into his own hands. At first the muggers seem to get the upper hand, but then he's helped by Tommy, a young robber who takes his side. (IMDB)

More love for Castellari from myself, delving into my second poliziotteschi film; I have only started to watch his films in succession within this month, but I am probably going to put him on the list of underrated directors I properly delved into this year. The version I saw of this film was an abomination - a ripped from videotape release from a Z-grade DVD company, bizarrely renamed Revenge and with a print that, while acceptable within this situation until I can get hold of the American disc, had night scenes that were completely drowned out by the colour blue - but the film still shined despite this problem. It is a simplistic, B-movie crime film, intentionally pulpy in content, but it’s very well made, distinct and moody with its psychedelic rock score that intercuts between scenes and put together greatly by Castellari. It could be dismissed as a simplistic vigilante film but the film’s ace in its sleeve is that, within its B-movie plot, it still scrutinises the idea of vigilantism, despite its plot, by showing it to be a morally grey concept and by having a protagonist whose physical vulnerability is as large as his courage. Whether he dubbed his own voice in the English or not, Franco Nero is such a distinct personality, finally seeing him in a lead role, with his piercing blue eyes and battered face, and in how he moves and gestures in each scene. That the character is such a vulnerable individual even in the final act, helped greatly by Nero’s physical performance, is such a virtue for the film.

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* I realise that the late Satoshi Kon and an occasional experimental work like Cat Soup (2001) shows that experimentation in anime can still happen and be a breath of fresh air, but these films to my knowledge have the fan bases they deserve that praise them whenever they can (including myself). Then there are a lot of films and works, such as Studio Ghibli films, that I’ve yet to see and need to create an opinion on.“Mainstream” anime is pretty diabolical however in how bland and uncreative looking most of the content looks and turns out to be, making the rare work like Redline so desperately needed.

This Week...#5 (8th December to 11th December 2012)

From http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Guardian/Pix/pictures/2012/7/12/1342108415938/Stephen-Dwoskin2-008.jpg

8^th December 2012: Outside In (Stephen Dwoskin, 1981)

"This is probably a good time to mention Dwoskin's use of comedy: Outside In is a film that deals with disability but is also funny and even burlesque. Of course, only the disabled can use this mode to stage themselves as disabled characters. Bergson states not only that "a deformity thay may become comic is a deformity that a normally built person, could succesfully imitate." (Michel Barthelemy)

Going through many of Dwoskin’s feature and short length films within such close proximity to each other, I admit that my thoughts on them have varied as much the height of a rollercoaster fluxuates as it goes on in size. I will confess, with some guilt considering how personal they clearly were to the late director, that the autobiographic works were usually the least interesting. Outside In is the exception.

Effectively a series of sequences, comedic skits, visuals pieces and situations about how Dwoskin viewed living with the disability that left him in crutches or a wheelchair for his whole life, the film for the most part is consistently interesting, going from the hilarious to the serious, erotic to the abstract. Dwoskin’s frankness with his disability, where even letting a person pass him in a row of cinema seats in cumbersome, is refreshing as he had no cap to his thoughts on his condition and portrayed the situation in a variety of ways. Also unlike some of his other, least effective work, he made each sequence and piece stand out to emphasise the content of them; his use of repetition is the most effective example of this, especially with a piece where a maid cleaning Dwoskin’s rented room transitions from a stranger to having a physical relationship with him through a repeated interaction. When Dwoskin was this rigorous, from what I have seen in the last few months, it was considerably impressive as was the case with Outside In.

From http://s3.amazonaws.com/auteurs_production/images/film/mazes-and-monsters/w448/mazes-and-monsters.jpg?1305043246

9^th December 2012: Mazes and Monsters (Steven Hilliard Stern, 1982)

Bound together by a desire to play "Mazes and Monsters," Robbie and his four college classmates decide to move the board game into the local legendary cavern. Robbie starts having visions for real, and the line between reality and fantasy fuse into a harrowing adventure. (IMDB)

Oh lordy, finally seeing this infamous film was grown inducing. It is far less the moral panic film about Dungeons and Dragons, and its ability to corrupt the youth of time, that I thought it would be, its drama softening the blow, but it’s still clear why it is the butt of jokes from actual Dungeons and Dragons fans. The problem is not necessarily the content itself but that it is all the worst tropes of a TV movie together. I hate the stereotypical TV movie in all it meaning – bland visual look, eye rolling moral messages or arch drama, fades to commercial breaks – and with the great exception of Salem’s Lot (1979), every film I have seen made for television was tedious or monstrously bland. This film deserves credit of Tom Hank’s first starring role, which he does try his hardest to flesh out, but his performance is sat within a really vacuous and, for fantasy gaming fans, insulting drama whose saccharine ballad sonically sums up its vast failings,

From http://horrorcultfilms.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/the-night-child-600x328.jpg

10^th December 2012: The Night Child (Massimo Dallamano, 1975)

When a documentarian delves into the dark world of satanic art for a new film, he unearths a disturbing painting that leads him into a world of post-Exorcist Italo-Horror where cursed medallions, possessed children and the overwhelming power of the dark lord converge to create a visually stunning and wildly eccentric exploitation classic from Massimo Dallamano (Venus in Furs, What Have You Done With Solange?) (Arrow Film)

The Night Child begins for half of its running time setting itself up but once its slow pace starts to quicken in terms of the narrative, it becomes a good Italian gothic horror film, far from being a mere rip-off of The Exorcist (1973) it may look like on the surface. Continuing on from Dallamano’s Super Bitch (1973), it is a beautiful looking, atmospherically rich film that, like the film I will be writing about in a second, in is far better in quality because of this rather than having numerous scenes of gore.

From http://s3.amazonaws.com/auteurs_production/images/film/who-saw-her-die/w448/who-saw-her-die.jpg?1330366846

11^th December 2012: Who Saw Her Die? (Aldo Lado, 1972)

A young girl is brutally murdered somewhere in France. Sometime later, the same thing happens to the daughter of a well-known sculptor. This time the parents (the sculptor and his wife) start investigating, and soon find they are in way over their head. Meanwhile, the body-count keeps rising as the killer now starts butchering all those who find out too much... (IMDB)

As said above, atmosphere and mood is far superior for me in my horror films than high body counts, which is apparent in this great giallo film. It is still pretty gristly though in terms of its story and its scenes of murder that, while not as bloody as other gialli I have seen, still cause one to cringe, matched by a plot that despite being convoluted at the end still entices with the clues it gives you like narrative breadcrumbs. The film is enhanced further by the evocative cinematography by Franco Di Giacomo which makes the Venice locations both luscious and oppressive in how the characters interact within them. Also worthy of mention is child actress Nicoletta Elmi who, by complete chance by me in watching these films one after another, appears in both this and in a main role in The Night Child. Her filmography is slight, but is full of very well known (and/or great) films that make her pretty significant within Italian genre cinema of the 1970s. 

This Week...#4 (5th December to 7th December 2012)

From http://s3.amazonaws.com/auteurs_production/images/film/sherlock-holmes-and-the-spider-woman/w448/sherlock-holmes-and-the-spider-woman.jpg?1324291913

5^th December 2012: Sherlock Holmes and The Spider Woman (Roy William Neill, 1944)

Sherlock Holmes investigates a series of so-called "pajama suicides". He knows the female villain behind them is as cunning as Moriarty and as venomous as a spider. (IMDB)

I’ve seen a couple of these now, and while they do not really stick in my mind, I wouldn’t mind seeing all the films in this 40s series of short length adaptations of the Sherlock Holmes character. This film feels weaker than the others, its mixing of different stories and plot twists creating a sense of ridiculousness to the film, but at the same making it feel erratic in nature and liable to fall into drops in quality during certain scenes. Basil Rathbone as Holmes does a tremendous job even in this film, and I can’t help but think there will be people out there who (understandably) view him as the best actor who played this character. I cannot say the same for Nigel Bruce as Doctor Watson, in all the films I’ve seen hung out to dry by a really irritating decision to make the character a bumbling old man; he gets a moment to help Holmes in this film thankfully, but it really comes off as a terrible idea for portraying this very famous literary character, especially when the jokes fall flat most of the time.

From http://indieethos.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/film-socialisme-still-2-image-courtesy-of-wild-bunch.jpeg

6^th December 2012: Film Socialisme (Jean-Luc Godard, 2010) & Film Socialisme (Jean-Luc Godard, 2010)

A symphony in three movements. Things such as a Mediterranean cruise, numerous conversations, in numerous languages, between the passengers, almost all of whom are on holiday... Our Europe. At night, a sister and her younger brother have summoned their parents to appear before the court of their childhood. The children demand serious explanations of the themes of Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. Our humanities. Visits to six sites of true or false myths: Egypt, Palestine, Odessa, Hellas, Naples and Barcelona. (IMDB)

What does it mean, what does it mean? What I had to learn, so I could go from viewing Godard as an overrated director to a great one I admire, is that he is probably one of the greatest practitioners of improvisation in filmmaking and that, especially in his later years after Week End (1967), the sense of being overwhelmed  by his work is clearly on purpose, where even what you think is a problem with the actual DVD is actually Godard playing with the audio and pace of the film to pull you out of your comfort zone and make the disparity noticeable. First segment of the film is quite obvious in theme, Europe represented by a cruise ship where nothing has been learnt from an entire century of war, where a casino can look like a church and, thanks to a rough camera phone recording, a disco sounds like a bombing raid is taking place. The third part (possibly a fourth within it too) is continuing his essay work with Historie(s) du Cinema but tackling on global issues such as the state of Greece fully, and emphasising the idea, as in all the parts of the film, of how it’s up to the youth of the current era to improve the world around them. The second half is a bit more difficult to fully grasp as it continues Godard’s habit of not sign-posting clear ideas in his dramas and forcing the viewer to think for themselves. Even without the infamous Navajo English subtitles, where he only keeps choices words and makes them almost into abstract poetry, and viewed with a full translation of the dialogue, his mix of musings coming from the characters mouths actually can hide and distract the viewer from thinking of the ideas clearly hidden underneath the dialogue. It is a very free flowing film, certainly not for everyone, but one wonders if some critics, especially British critic Mark Kermode who viewed it as the worst thing at that year’s Cannes Film Festival in 2010, were actually willing to be patient with the film before criticising it or, to be crass but blunt, couldn’t be arsed to do so going into that first premier of the film.

This criticism came apparent with the Navajo subtitles which got their infamy from the anger many English film critics threw at them, Kermode himself believing that Godard was purposely trying to alienate English speakers from the film. Godard has major issues with the dominance of the English language, if you research interviews and quotations of him online, but the Navajo subtitles are actually far more accessible, especially compared to the content of the film, than one would believe. Yes, large subplots and tangents of impossible to catch unless you are bilingual, but there are other moments where the connections and connotations I made with the words kept in the subtitles were the exact, if not close to the same, as that of the full translation of the dialogue and onscreen text, watching the Navajo English than full translated version of the film one after the other. A third hybrid of both versions would be interesting to see; the full translation of some parts of the film is incredibly useful, but the Navajo English subtitles are for the most part far superior. Godard effectively cuts out the incidental words needed to make up sentences, and some pointless pieces that do knock the film down a little in quality, and almost makes a rudimentary system to allow English speakers to watch foreign films into an elaborate E.E Cummings poem. This is the same with the film itself, the melding of various different styles of image – cameras on phones, video, the blisteringly, beautiful colours of an electronic paintbox effect, even YouTube with a hilarious joke about two cats seemingly being able to communicate –put into a vast collage with various choices of music with manipulation of both aspects throughout the running time. It does feel like the creation of a young, first time director, flawed but effortlessly creative and full of ideas of depth, which made by a veteran director in his eighties is an intellectual spectacle that is incredible to see.

From https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrNnu00OASiXdMjA8zxbM6MJS9BRBpejs5Ah-jXrXLurkXRJ1HPMGyCJWgdMk_vciPHOgGcygzu5AlmWGVc_YFsx0YjvYUsxJJ59iboMvZpr0nUCPVC0WvAcNs-Rs8COPGjg7H2yJHes/s1600/MARDIGRASMASSACRE-000.png

7^th December 2012: Mardi Gras Massacre (Jack Weis, 1978)

Police try to capture someone who is commiting ritual murders of women during Mardi Gras in New Orleans. (IMDB)

Pretty dreadful film from the Video Nasties list, its main problem is that it has a complete aversion to its killer plot. Instead it pads out its own length with a subplot between the main cop character and a prostitute that never goes anywhere, and long drawn out scenes around the locations or dialogue exposition that means very little to what you watch. It could have worked in an anti-narrative sort of way unintentionally, if it wasn’t for the fact that you can feel that few people in front of or behind the camera have any idea how to push the film onwards. One person who thankfully did get some inkling of what he should do is William Metzo as John the killer. It’s not just that he goes into bars asking what women are ‘evil’ or pronounces even his orders to a Chinese takeaway on the phone in a sinister voice, but that as the following dialogue is spoken he also includes an elaborately long pause involving a head moment to the right of the screen....

“This is 6-20 Madison Street, apartment four. I would like you to deliver an order of shrimp rolls, lobster Cantonese, Char Siu Din.................... [Long Pause to look off screen]....................and a fortune cookie.”

This is also one of those films that no matter how tedious it can get it is partly saved by having a legitimately great soundtrack of disco and funk music, cutting through the tedium of certain scenes including those Metzo isn’t involved in.

This Week...#3 (1st December to 4th December 2012)

From http://s3.amazonaws.com/auteurs_production/images/film/a-cottage-on-dartmoor/w448/a-cottage-on-dartmoor.jpg

1^st December 2012: A Cottage On Dartmoor (Anthony Asquith, 1941)

In a small-town hairdressing salon, a young barber, Joe (Uno Henning) is trying to court Sally, the beautiful manicurist (Nora Baring) and asks her out. She rejects him in favour of the security offered by an older, wealthier farmer. In a jealous rage Joe slashes the farmer with a razor and is sent to Dartmoor prison for attempted murder. He escapes over the moors to find Sally, who does not know if he has come to kill her or ask her forgiveness, and it's at this point that the film begins. The rest of the story is told in flashback. (BFI Filmstore)

Slow for me to adapt to the film’s tone, but once this silent British film starts to run through its brisk running time, it is very good, a very interesting and emotional pot-boiler matched to an inspired visual palette, the dusk of silent cinema not stopping Asquith from using anything from Expressionistic shadows, clever use of news reels and even Sergei Eisenstein’s ‘Montage of Attractions’ theory amongst other techniques to an inherently British take on doomed love.

From http://image.bayimg.com/famlfaabp.jpg

2^nd December 2012: Tod und Teuful (Dir. Stephen Dwoskin, 1973) & Face Anthea (Stephen Dwoskin, 1990)

The action of the film evolves around the rooms of a house as one of the main characters, Lisiska, is waiting and is studied in depth as she prepares herself for a meeting & The film attempts to display sexual barriers and misconceptions, and about the role-playing and the confusion around the whole question of sexual and sensual involvement. The essence is the confrontation with self-deception, lies and the real fear of contact with both sexes.' (Luxonline.org.uk from a quotation from the late Dwoskin himself)

Containing only three extended scenes within its ninety minute running time, prolonged to extended lengths with the camera scrutinising the actors’ worn faces and bodies, this is as abstract as a dramatic story, adapted from a play, can be, a story of sexual relationships stripped down to its barest strands. The extended viewings of the actors’ faces can seem over longed and in danger of pretention, but the overlongness of the images actually helps the film. The human face, marked and aged especially, is a fascinating and beautiful thing to look at, yet if one stares at someone for such a prolonged amount of time it can become discomforting. The viewing of strangers in such a way is almost seen as bad manners and frowned upon, to which Dwoskin forces the viewer to look deeply at another person, especially the beautiful and yet tragic main female actress, her flawed beauty matched by deep black eyes and expressions that are either in bliss or sadness or both at the same time. Through this experiment, Dwoskin the experimental filmmaker fittingly makes a film that can stand up as a great narrative one too, so stripped down of much of what usually takes place in a narrative but yet still full enough to have fleshed out characters and a clear idea on sexual and gender issues through human relationships that stands up a lot better than more over-filled movies.

Again, another film on the same DVD, Face Anthea, is worth adding to this for an additional layer; pretty much a completely experimental work, consisting of a woman viewing the camera (ie. us the viewer) for an entire sixty minutes. Anyone who views this as pretentious I can understand in their mindset to it, but Face Anthea was also a great film as a pure distillation of its content. Artistic interpretations are completely pointless when its true virtue is such an obvious idea for a film, in that the woman, like us, is viewing her unknown audience like a spectator, as we (I in this case) watch her too, as if through a two way mirror that is separate by time and the video stock the piece was shot on. It was amazing for me to think while viewing the film that few people actual look carefully and with consideration at their fellow human beings’ faces and presence for such a long amount of time outside of representations done in paintings, sculpture etc., and it has to be argued, along with Tod und Teuful, that having to do so with these films is a great virtue for them. Also unlike other experimental and minimalist pieces these two at least concentrate on other people and their bodies, something inherently fascinating that can even be seen in  mainstream cinema when one lovingly watches their favourite actor or actress onscreen regardless of the content and story.

From http://www.brutalashell.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/vlcsnap-2012-10-22-23h46m16s171.png

3^rd December 2012: Super Bitch aka. Mafia Function (Massimo Dallamano, 1973)

Italian trash cinema icon Ivan Rassimov is a police inspector working undercover to expose a London escort agency where the frequently naked Stephanie Beacham is being filmed in sexually compromising situations with her moneyed clients. These poor chumps will soon be smuggling drugs across international borders for her and her shadowy associates. (Arrow Films)

Probably not the best way for me to enter the Poliziotteschi genre in terms of the traditional style of the sub-genre, Italian crime stories that blossomed in the 1970s to 1980s, but I loved it as ridiculous, beautiful looking trash as its UK distributor Arrow Films probably viewed it as when they released it to DVD within November. It’s convoluted, tasteless, and like the best exploitation films, the title has nothing to do with the content, and was added for a British video re-release in the eighties as a cruel joke at the expense of main actress Stephanie Beacham. There is something compelling about such an erratic film though, entertaining in its tangents and amusing dialogue; there is a sense that it may have been made to be intentionally ridiculous, counteracting the apparent rightwing nature of the genre that is discussed in an introduction to Poliziotteschi in the DVD extras. Even the fact that the puppet master/police inspector Ivan Rassimov is almost completely disconnected from the events around him or many steps ahead of it, in danger of making it impossible to engage with him,  may be on purpose, especially when it becomes obvious just how corrupt he is as a person.

It was also surprising, presuming it would be an entirely Italian film until I researched the film hours before viewing it, that it was set mostly in England, director Dallamano viewing London and the English landscape, urban and rural, through a different eye and visual appearance than a home born director would, adding a great deal more of interest too. If Arrow Films hadn’t picked this up, and they were prodded towards it, the British Film Institution’s Flipside series of Blu-Rays and DVDs, catering in odder and eclectic British or British set films, would be perfect for something like this.

From http://s3.amazonaws.com/auteurs_production/images/film/joanna--2/w448/joanna--2.jpg

4^th December 2012: Joanna (Michael Sarne, 1966)

When 17 year old Joanna comes to Swinging London, she meets a host of colourful characters (such as Lord Sanderson, played by Donald Sutherland), discovers the pleasures of casual sex, and falls in love with Gordon (Calvin Lockart). That’s when things get complicated. (MUBI)

Speaking of the Flipside series, this is one of the official releases from the sub-label from the director of the infamous Myra Breckinridge adaptation. It is a very solid drama, sold as a ‘female Alfie’ to Fox studios to get them to produce the film, an interesting story that is helped immensely from its cast including Geneviève Waïte as the titular character. What makes the film even more interesting is the manipulation of its structure and tone by Sarne. Not only does he include dreams sequences, even non-diagetic sound effects, with the narrative but he plays and manipulates the time and mood of the narrative as well, distorting the sense of cinematic reality to fit the mindset of its main character. The results are fascinating and shows that when directors were allowed to, British films could be very interesting and take a chance in playing with conventions.