The Atoine Doinel Cycle (Overall 7.7/10)

Francois Truffaut (1959-1979).
Initially I was hesitant about watching Truffaut’s Doinel Cycle. Assuming that with the exception of The 400 Blows, the films were essentially exceptionally well done ‘romantic comedies’; which in general are uninteresting. To say the least, I was pleasantly surprised. What separates and makes them so remarkable is the character of Antoine Doinel, the combined alter ego of Francois Truffaut and Jean-Pierre Leaud. Who is easily one of the most interesting fictional personalities ever captured on film; described as an extremely intelligent and wildly eccentric social anarchist.

For Doinel’s introduction, Truffaut paints a stark Neo Realism inspired portrait of a 12 year old street wise adolescent in The 400 Blows (8.6/10). Neglected by his family he resorts to skipping school and general mischief on the streets of Paris, eventually being sent to a youth detention center which he later escapes from. The story lays the foundations of deep emotional and abandonment issues, which later arise as the underlying causes for the amusing romantic misadventures in his adult life.

The next three installments in the series are drastically different then the first. While The 400 Blows was a sober social commentary on the rehabilitation of troubled youth, Love at Twenty (short/NA), Stolen Kisses (7.4/10), and Bed and Board (7.2/10) were little more then slick ‘feel good’ comedies intended for a mass audience, albeit definitely entertaining. The films document the various stages in Doinel’s adult life; starting with his dishonorable discharge from the French Army, through his various eclectic jobs, love affairs, countless casual encounters with prostitutes, distain for married life, extramarital affairs, divorce, and reflections on fatherhood.

The final chapter in the cycle, Love on The Run (7.6/10) is essentially a summary of Doinel’s life as he recounts his adventures in life and love through his newly published semiautobiographical book. By interlacing clips from the previous films, Truffaut paints a colorful overall picture of the protagonist’s personality set to the backdrop of catchy French pop tunes. In my opinion it is one of the two must see films in the Doinel cycle along with The 400 Blows, conversely it was Truffaut’s least favorite.

As expected Truffaut is stylistically perfect. The films maintain a perfect pace; striking a delicate balance between having enough momentum to keep the viewer interested in the story, while being careful not to be abrasive. Further, he obtains a perfect equilibrium between; action/inaction, inside/outside, passive/aggressive, private/public, complex/simple, intellect/emotion. The end result is that the films have an overwhelming effortless fluid quality to them. Truffaut makes it look easy, akin to Michael Jordan playing basketball or Picasso painting.

YI YI (7.9/10)

Edward Yang, 2000.
The story chronicles a year in the life of an upper middle class family living in contemporary Taiwan, beginning with a wedding and ending with a funeral. Each of the family members have their own distinct subplots; ranging from the innocent misadventures of a youth exploring the world, to the pangs of adolescence, to the difficulty of realizing ones place in the world, and the reflections on a life lived. The remarkable thing is that while each story has its own progression, character development, climax, and resolution it fits in with perfect harmony to the overall dynamic of the story. In essence it is akin to watching numerous short films within the framework of a larger picture; Yang does this exceptionally well.

Yi Yi is easily one of the best films I have seen in the past six months. However, for the death of me I could not think of anything insightful to say about it. Recently I realized that while amazingly well done, it is not the least bit interesting; the family leads a relatively vapid existence, granted they have their moments but overall their story is definitely not extraordinary by any means. The film is successful because the average viewer can relate to it. While only a select few can recall the bittersweet experience of discovering a severed human ear in a field, everyone can relate to the joys of affirming life and the sorrows of death, to the idiosyncrasies of family and friends. This ability to connect to the characters on a personal level makes the film extremely enjoyable to watch, and is the same reason why Homer, Marge, Lisa, Bart and Maggie Simpson are icons of global popular culture.

La Chinoise (7.1/10)

Jean-Luc Godard, 1967.
La Chinoise is commonly referred to as Godard’s most political film, and for that reason I believe it is not as highly regarded as the others. It is based around the philosophical and ideological discussions between five students living in a Paris apartment. Together they form a radical Maoist group and conspire to commit acts of terrorism with the intention of inciting a revolution. The story is loosely based on Dostoyevsky’s novel The Devils, which follows a group of revolutionaries in Imperial Russia. The name Kirillov given to one of the students in the film is an obvious homage to Fyodor Mikhailovich.

The group believed that Mao was the only true vanguard of socialism, actively fighting American Imperialism in South East Asia. Hence they were Maoists, not Marxists or Communists. Although Godard was interested in Maoism at the time, the film does not promote the ideology nor glorify terrorism. Rather I believe he uses the students to parody the intentions of student activism and illustrate its inherent flaws. The dialogue with Francis Jeanson a prominent professor and activist, who was arrested in 1960 for supporting Algerian terrorist groups, further reduces the group’s revolutionary ideas to nothing more then dangerous and foolish pedantic abstractions destined for failure. In the end their revolution is summarized as little more then the murder of the wrong person and the inevitable breakup of the group.

Godard employs easily decipherable symbolism with bold contrasting colors to create a rich visual aesthetic. However, the power of the film is not in the cinematography or plot but in the ideas, in the lively discussions between characters. The actors eccentric personalities help lighten up the cerebral dialogue. They included familiar faces of French Cinema such as Anne Wiazemsky who was Godard’s wife at the time and the official badass of the new wave, Jean-Pierre Leaud. Ultimately, La Chinoise stands better as an entertaining intellectual discourse then a serious film.

What is it? (6.8/10)

Crispin Glover, 2005.
From what I gather the film is about the conflict between different states of consciousness with in the Protagonist’s psyche, a character with Down syndrome and a passion for murdering snails. The project entirely financed by Glover lacks any lavish extravagances and has a prevailing ‘low budget’ feel to it. The ultimate result is a very interesting film with an exceptionally well done soundtrack; including Wagner’s Tannhauser overture and the Clock Work Orange theme.

According to Glover who was very sincere in his talk after the screening, the film was meant to be a reflection of his personal distaste with the mechanisms of censorship present within the current corporate Hollywood system. His intention was to make the viewer as uncomfortable as possible. Forcing them to question the images on the screen and the intentions of the director, rather then leaving the theatre in a complacent stupefied haze. He does this very well by exploiting every cultural taboo he can think of ranging from sex and racism, to fascism. I have an inclination that Glover’s explanation was a rehearsed boiler plate response, amid audience questions and comments such as, “Why are you trying to copy David Lynch? Why is your film so weird? You are nothing more then a misanthrope with more money then me!”

It would have been interesting to ask him if the images exist purely as a manifestation of his anger with corporate censorship, or are they a fulfillment of an innate human desire to look at what is forbidden. Does his aesthetic simply arise from the underlying beauty in the taboo, in the disgusting? Is this is why artists constantly strive to exploit the most disturbing images imaginable in their work? If so, is any other rationalization for films like this little more then intellectual abstraction?

Tokyo Story (8.7/10)

Yasujiro Ozu, 1953.
What is interesting about Ozu is that he never married nor had any children. Yet the majority of his films deal with complicated family relationships set among the backdrop of the moral and social upheaval in post war Japan. His stories explore prevalent themes in Japanese society at the time. Primarily the paradox of doing what is beneficial for the family at expense of ones own happiness and personal freedom. This is why the notion of arranged marriages is such a common topic in many of his films including Tokyo Story, along with the burden of having to deal with ones elderly parents at expense of the ones livelihood.


In reality Ozu was a heavy drinker who ran his film sets in a strict totalitarian fashion. I assume that the ideal family he created in his films is a substitute for his lack of one in reality. This notion of the director living vicariously through his films is fascinating, and adds another layer of interpretation to the film. The complexity of Ozu’s imaginary family juxtaposed with the simple story is what makes Tokyo Story a phenomenal film.

Aesthetically Ozu’s films are perfect. Every shot is simple yet perfectly balanced. He had his custom-made tripod fabricated to ensure that every shot is eye level with a person sitting on the ground, creating a very intimate atmosphere. My only criticism is that too much of the film takes place within cramped indoor spaces, giving the film an almost claustrophobic quality. I attribute this to the fact that interior shots are easier to control with less variables to contend with (weather, public, quality of natural light, background noise, etc), and that the home is where the majority of family interaction takes place.

If I ever decide to make a film, the first thing I would do is intently study Ozu. Not just simply watching his films, but becoming obsessed with them, watching them repeatedly, reading and rereading every essay written about him. I would not even attempt to make a film until his aesthetic was deeply ingrained in my consciousness to the point of being brainwashed. I think the above would be prudent advice to any new filmmaker, as well as the majority of established ones. It is not surprising that Ozu has inspired and influenced directors such as Jim Jarmusch, Abbas Kiarostami, and Wim Wenders among countless others.

Note: Wenders film Tokyo Ga (6.8/10) is a very good and entertaining introduction to the works of Yasujiro Ozu. The Criterion Edition of Tokyo Story includes it as a supplement and I strongly recommend watching it before the feature (not to mention it has amusing cameos by Werner Herzog and Chris Marker).

American Friend (6.5/10)

Wim Wenders (1977)
The combination of Wim Wenders, Bruno Ganz, and Dennis Hopper is at least a promising recipe for a great film, but ultimately falls short. Not surprisingly, Dennis Hopper is impressive as a sociopath art dealer who specializes in selling counterfeit paintings and Wenders style is on point, but the storey is weak bringing down the overall quality of the film. I also found Wenders aesthetic although beautiful, to be somewhat contrived and unnatural giving the film a slightly pretentious quality. The cinematography was not nearly as refined as his later films such as Paris Texas (8.0/10) or Wings of Desire (7.6/10). I suspect that American Friend was a film that allowed Wenders to build and develop his aesthetic which he ultimately perfects in the masterpieces mentioned above.

His madness is truly believable.

Hoppers performance was strong, because like always his insanity is believable. Playing his quintessential trademarked character of morally inept psychopath, one can not tell if he is acting or simply being himself; the best actor is the one who does not act. His madness, albeit not as believable as in Blue Velvet (8.3/10) or Apocalypse Now (8.6/10), is the only viable reason to watch the film.

Under the Volcano (7.3/10)

John Huston (1984)
Based on the novel by Malcolm Lowry it is very similar to Conrad’s Heart of Darkness; in the sense that it chronicles the classic cliché story of one mans decent into darkest realms of human existence. The protagonist being a former British diplomat living in a small Mexican Town is a superlatively educated, well spoken gentleman with a severe drinking problem. His strong character combined with the vibrantly colorful day of the dead visuals (skulls, flowers, devils, etc) give the film a great style, which is evident in the opening scenes of him walking through the streets of Quauhanhauc inebriated wearing a tuxedo and sunglasses. I recommend seeing the film if only for the amazing traditional Mexican cult of the dead images and intelligently insightful dialogue; “How unless you drink as I do, can hope to understand the beauty of an old Indian Women playing dominoes with a chicken?”