Misfortunes of Imaginary Beings: 10/15/23

A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Sunday, October 15, 2023

Freaks (Tod Browning, 1932)

Cast: Wallace Ford, Leila Hyams, Olga Baclanova, Roscoe Ates, Henry Victor, Harry Earles, Daisy Earles, Rose Dione, Daisy Hilton, Violet Hilton. Screenplay: Willis Goldbeck, Leon Gordon, based on a story by Clarence Aaron "Tod" Robbins. Cinematography: Merritt B. Gerstad. Art direction: Cedric Gibbons, Merrill Pye. Film editing: Basil Wrangell.

Possibly the most unorthodox film ever made by a major Hollywood studio, let alone one made by MGM, a studio known for glossy entertainments. It was a kind of disaster when it was first released, subjected to censorship and deep cuts before being re-released, and even then widely panned, derided, and snubbed by critics and audiences. It could almost certainly not have been made after the introduction of the Production Code. It's a unique and unclassifiable movie that's usually treated as a horror film, but not easily filed away in that category. Its acceptance today as a classic, deserving its place in the National Film Registry as one of the most important American films, is largely the result of changing attitudes toward human diversity and difference, including the rejection of "eugenics," the pseudoscience that promoted the idea that only those deemed physically and mentally superior should be allowed to breed. As a movie, it's sometimes not particularly well acted and the central plot -- the trapeze artist Cleopatra (Olga Baclanova) marries the dwarf Hans (Harry Earles) and then poisons him to try to get her hands on his inheritance -- is trite, though Cleopatra's comeuppance is effectively gruesome to say the least. But the movie is atmospherically staged and filmed, and the central theme of our common humanity prevails.

Battle Royale II: Requiem (Kenta Fukasaku, Kinji Fukasaku, 2003)

Cast: Tatsuya Fujiwara, Ai Maeda, Shugo Oshinari, Ayana Sakai, Haruka Suenaga, Yuma Ishigaki, Miyuki Kanbe, Nana Yanagisawa, Masaya Kikawada, Yōko Maki, Yuki Ito, Natsuki Kato, Aki Maeda. Riki Takeuchi, Sonny Chiba. Screenplay: Kenta Fukasaku, Norio Kida. Cinematography: Toshihiro Isomi. Production design: Emiko Tsuyuki. Film editing: Hirohide Abe. Music: Masamichi Amano.

I suspect that anyone watching Battle Royale II: Requiem after the Hamas attack on Israel will have a different reaction to it than those who watched it before. It's a movie in which the heroes are terrorists: We even get a repeated shot in which they blow up two identical tall buildings. The first Battle Royale (Kinji Fukasaku, 2000) was an easy movie to get caught up in because it was fast and often funny, and the premise of a government of an overpopulated Japan selecting teenagers to kill off one another in a televised game show format was ridiculous enough that you could easily distance yourself from the movie. But the sequel, begun by Kinji Fukasaku but completed after his death by his son, Kenta, isn't so inventive, and the heroic terrorist premise is hard to swallow. It reunites some of the survivors of the earlier film's massacre who are part of a worldwide crusade against adults in general. This time, they're holed up on the island where they fought in the earlier film, and a class of ninth graders from a Japanese middle school for troubled kids is forced to storm the island and defeat the terrorists. But once they land on the island, after a sequence obviously designed to remind the viewer of the D-Day landing in Saving Private Ryan (Steven Spielberg, 1998), the would-be attackers join forces with the terrorists and turn against the government. The rest is a series of war movie scenes as the government returns fire. The borrowing from other movies is pervasive: The film's climax, for example, is a direct lift from the end of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (George Roy Hill, 1969). The teacher of the students chosen for the assault is wildly overplayed by Riki Takeuchi, who delivers a blistering anti-American speech before sending the kids off to fight. In general, it's a muddled film, not only politically but also in its failure to present clearly delineated characters in whom we can invest some emotional commitment and in the overall lack of suspense about their fates.