Al-Nakba (Qatar/Palestine 2008)

This is a documentary film about ‘the catastrophe’ that befell the Palestinian people in 1948. It traces the history of the colonial policies and actions that led to their expulsion from their homeland. It was made by Palestinian filmmaker and journalist Rawan Damen in 2008 and transmitted on the Al Jazeera Arabic network. Now an English-Language version is being transmitted on their English Television network [Freeview 83 in the UK, with other language versions also available]. It runs for 200 minutes and is going out in four parts. Two episodes have already been transmitted but are being repeated.

Rawan Damen’s film is a fairly conventional television documentary using ‘talking heads’ and film and photographs. Much of the material and comment has been available in academic and historical publication. But now it is being presented in a fairly popular medium and it has the advantage of using visual material, which brings an increased power to the story.

The film starts with the Napoleonic invasion of Egypt, a key event that was analysed by the Palestinian writer Edward Said in his great work Orientalism. The first two episodes address the British occupation and Mandate of Palestine following the First World War. In was in that conflict that the new Zionist Movement achieved its coup of the Balfour Declaration – the British support for a Jewish State was seen as a way of ensuring the British presence and it’s interests across the Middle East.

It is difficult to decide which was more objectionable: the British colonial manipulation of a people and its lands, or the Machiavellian manoeuvrings of the Zionist in pursuit of a ‘Greater Israel’. Certainly the policies and practices of each have much in common. The British Mandate saw the use of house arrests and executions, concentration camps, house demolitions, the exiling of leaders and the harassment and dissolution of Palestinian institutions. Just as British laws from the Mandate still serve the Zionist State, so do the brutal methods pioneered by the British.

Episode two focuses on the Palestinian resistance and revolution from 1936 to 1939. This is a part of the tale which gives lie to Zionist clams of  ’a land without people’; and claims that a Palestinian nation did not exist. It also highlights the weakness and limitations of the Palestinian and Arab official leaders. Their failings were to be an important aid to the Zionist take-over in 1948. The other was the development of the Zionist military forces, which were happy to use actions now loudly condemned as ‘terrorism’ by Israel.

Rawan Damen has added an impressive range of commentators, including both Palestinian and Israeli historians, and ordinary Palestinians including refugees from Al-Nakba. This and the impressive array of actual film from the period really create its effect. There has been excellent research to retrieve film that has not been seen for a long time, including material in the British Archives.

This is both an important documentary film and contribution to the struggles of the Palestinian people. Fortunately Al Jazeera tend to repeat their programme several times. So it will be possible to catch up with episodes one and two if you missed them. Episode three will take us to the key year of 1948. Definitely tune into Al Jazeera -  the channel is worth watching for a different slant on the news.

[Note that their transmission times are given in GMT not in British Summer Time],

The Place Beyond the Pines (US 2012)

USA 2012. In colour and anarmorphic. Director Derek Cianfrance.

This film has received good reviews and appears to be doing well at the box office. A younger, savvy friend of mine suggested this to be mainly down to one of its stars, Ryan Gosling. Ryan Gosling also starred in Cianfrance’s earlier film Blue Valentine (2010) and I think the two films are the best of his performances that I have seen. In fact the two films cross over thematically in their stories of failed love and problematic parenting. I don’t want to write about the plot because the film contains one of the most impressive reversals that I have seen for ages.

The narrative comes in three parts or acts, separated by in each case by a black screen. Each part focuses on a different leading protagonist. But the plotting constantly draws parallels across time and space, in character actions, in settings and mise en scène and in the central themes, especially of fathers and sons.

Early in the film I thought we would end up in Rebel Without a Cause territory (1955). Then I gradually realised that the film is in fact a thematic variation of Steinbeck’s great novel, East of Eden. I think this is a conscious parallel as the film also reminded me of Elia Kazan’s great cinematic adaptation (1955). There seem to be numerous narrative, character and visual parallels between these art works.

Beyond the Pines was shot on Kodak film stock, and it looks great. There are many fine settings and landscapes and there is impressive use of a Steadicam and some excellent tracking shots. The parallels across the characters and their lives are reinforced by visual motifs. The most intriguing of these is the US Stars and Stripes. I did not notice one in the first part but I suspect logically there should be one. In part two a carefully framed shot draws attention to a Stars and Stripes as four men [policemen] leave a house on a dubious errand. In part three there are two shots of the flag at houses which seem mainly part of the settings. Then in the closing shot the flag is again discernible in the mid-distance. Two supporting themes in the film relate to gender and “race”, and these seem unresolved by the closure. However, the flag possibly signals an ironic and critical take on this aspect.

The Invisible Cinema

The New York Invisible Cinema

This was an event organised by the Leeds based art project The Pavilion. The full title [taken from Sidney Peterson’s The Dark of the Screen, Anthology Film Archives, 1980] was ‘A movie house is an enlarged camera Obscura for the sale of popcorn, a Darkroom for star-gazing right side up’. Overall we are talking about that section of the film world often described as Underground Cinema. One unconventional project was Peter Kulbeka’s imaginative if somewhat unusual Invisible Cinema. This was a project originally set up in New York in as part of the Anthology Film Archives. And there is now a descendant based at the Austrian Film Museum. The event included films, illustrated talks and a ‘happening’.

Bear with me as I described the evening more or less chronologically to try and give a sense of the experience. It was introduced by Will Rose. He set the scene and also drew attention to the venue, The Hyde Park Picture House. Opened in 1914 as a purpose-built cinema the venue has screened films for fortunate Leeds patrons for nearly a hundred years. For most of that time it has screened 35mm prints and it still retains two 35mm projectors: though a Digital Projector has now been added. Over the years the cinema has changed a little; it now has gas lighting, a refreshment kiosk and a new screen. It remains not only one of the oldest cinemas in the UK but one with really distinctive characteristics. Will Rose also set the scene for the evenings fare, rather different from the regular programme.

The first screening was one of the 9 Intervals films directed by Aurélien Froment in 2011. This was a commission by The Pavilion for nine short films to be screened between adverts, trailers and the main feature. We watched Interval 2, which was actually filmed in the Hyde Park. It included the illuminated clock, nowadays dimmed along with the lights as the features commence.

The main speaker was Friedrich Mascher. He is the architect for Invisible Cinema 3 at the Austrian Film Museum. Kulbeka’s original idea was for a ’machine for viewing’. The auditorium included “hooded seats, complete darkness, single-source sound equipment and strict decorum ensured that the viewer would ‘not have any sense of the presence of walls or the size of the auditorium. He should have only the white screen, isolated in darkness, as his guide to the scale and distance. Kulbeka’s Invisible Cinema attempted to purge anything that exceeded the image -.” (Expanded Cinema, 2011). It provided a rather extreme emphasis on the individual viewer. Friedrich Mascher embarked dryly that it was not a success.

He provided a brief illustrated historical over view on the development of auditoriums. The examples ran from the open-air Greek amphitheatre of ancient times, to the open-air Roman amphitheatres, which, though, introduced a proscenium behind the staging area. He showed us the London Globe Theatre, where Shakespeare’s plays were seen in a ‘forum round a yard’. The most interesting example was the Teatro Olympico in Venetia, where the proscenium had five entrances / exits for players. This fitted into a set of conventions shared by performers and audience. There was Vienna’s Josephadt Theatre, an example of a classic auditorium. And moving on to cinema, he showed us Graumans’ Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, an exotic movie palace of the 1920s.

He then introduced the Invisible Cinema 3 at the Austrian Film Museum. Modern health and safety regulations mean that it is not quite as bleak as the New York example. The only additional illumination is at the rear of the auditorium. Seat numbers are under the seat and so disappear when a viewer sits down. And there are no separation blocks. It seemed quite an attractive venue for films. Kulbeka’s vision was that the ‘‘eye and ear were directly connected to the filmmaker’, or to be exact his/her film.

An example of the sort of film Kulbeka envisaged for this cinema was his own Arnulf Rainer (1960, on 16mm} The title is a dedication to a painter. Rainer’s work was mainly painting in colour over photographs. A technique that aimed at ‘painting over a painting over a painting ….’

Kulbeka’s 6-minute film exhibited this approach as it played with four basic elements – light, dark, sounds and silence. It was screened twice, and the second time Friedrich Mascher requested the audience [most of whom were in the ground auditorium] to view it from the balcony. Intriguingly there is a slight trapezium effect in the ground auditorium due to the steep drop between the projection box and the screen.

We then watched Interval 8 [from 9 Intervals] which deals performance spaces and their organisation. It took on an added resonance after the earlier illustrations and screenings. The evening closed with a ‘situationist’ type event. Following a set of printed instructions the projectionist and the house staff operated the projector and its varied functions, the curtains and drapes, the auditorium doors and finally the fire exits. Friedrich Mascher then asked us to leave the auditorium ‘in memory of Ernst Schmidt’ whose creation we had just witnessed. In the course of this event one was awfully aware of those aspects of the cinema that normally only exist on the periphery.

It seems that Kulbeka was less concerned with avant-garde cinema per se than returning to a ‘normal cinema’ without the excrudences that have been added to performances. He was not in favour of the type of multi-media approach found among some of the Anthology film practitioners. One can see where Sydney Peterson’s chapter title fits into this scheme of things. The venue, the Hyde Park, provided an intriguing opposition to this minimalism. The cinema is positively baroque in comparison to either of the Invisible Cinemas.

It was a fascinating evening. My main complaint was that the limited time meant that there was little opportunity for discussion. Kulbeka seems to have been focussed on the screening of films. In cinema this means an audience who can interact with each other as well as with the images and sounds, and indeed the venue: but it is not clear how much attention Kulbeka paid to this aspect. A like-minded 1920s critic opined that in front of the screen “Our problems evaporate, our neighbours disappear.” (Expanded Cinema, 2011)The cinématographe Lumière was mentioned in the introdcution but I felt that Edison’s kinetoscope, with its individual veiwer, was closer to Kulbeka’s aim.  What struck me was that the contemporary media world follows some facets of Kulbeka’s approach with individual viewers watching films on pods, mobile phones and computers. I am not sure though whether all of them are linked into the films without distraction. This is also where I am not really a disciple of Kulbeka. Great features and great documentaries are enriched by the vibrations that cross and circulate round audiences. I am sure that George Bailey’s plea to Clarence in It’s a Wonderful Life has a greater catharsis when one feels the whole audience willing him home. And the pathos that Eisenstein creates during The Odessa Steps depends equally on this communal feeling. This week I watched Ken Loach’s The Spirit of ’45 and the anger that he intends is swelled by a sympathetic audience.

Finally, I would also like to have learned more about the Teatro Olympico, which also sounds fascinating. The good news is that Aurélien Froment’s new film is currently under production in that very location. So I should soon be wiser.

Expanded Cinema Art Performance Film edited by Al. Rees, Duncan White, Stephen Ball and David Curtis, Tate Publishing, 2011. Articles on the Anthology Film Archives including Peter Kulbeka and a range of avant-garde film practices.

Lincoln (US 2012)

Dreamworks and C20th Fox. Director Steven Spielberg. Screenplay Tony Kushner, based on the book by Doris Kearns Goodwin Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln.

Cinematography: Janusz Kaminski. Editor Michael Kahn. Music John Williams. Sound Design Ben Burtt. Costume design Joanna Johnston.

Academy Award for Best Actor Daniel Day-Lewis. Academy Award Best Production Design Rick Cater and Jim Erickson.

Stephen Spielberg and Tony Kushner’s award winning film is a reconstruction of a key moment in US history and the US Civil War. In another sense it is also a biography of the most famous of US Presidents, using a key moment in his life and career rather than providing an overall picture of the man. The key moment is the point at which the US Congress, sited in Washington and the Unionist North’s territory, finally approved a constitutional amendment that abolished slavery. In a sense this was an act that addressed the unfinished business of the founding fathers when they proclaimed all men equal: except of course the enslaved Afro-Americans or Negroes (the politest term in use in that period).

This is an epic production running for two and half-hours. The cinematography, sound and production design are all of a high standard. The film’s score is impressive if occasionally overly sentimental. Daniel Day-Lewis as the President has already received widespread praise, but the whole cast is excellent. This combination of talent and performance gives the film credibility both as an absorbing story and as a history lesson. The conflicts and machinations that preceded the historic vote in the House of Representatives seems to have been bought to the screen with reasonable accuracy, though there is now a debate about the veracity of the Connecticut vote in the film: an odd lapse in what seems a convincing reconstruction.

The central figure of Lincoln emerges partly in the familiar guise seen in earlier biopics: we several times see and hear his famed ability to produce a story appropriate to every occasion. A skill that often exasperated his colleagues but also frequently effectively disarmed his opponents. Less familiar is his foray into political corruption, using patronage to manipulate the vote where morals and rhetoric have failed.

Critics have already remarked on the absence of Afro-Americans from the central focus. The film opens with a strong and brutal depiction of one of the early hand-to-hand battle involving newly recruited Negro soldiers and Confederates. But after that the plot relies mainly on Elizabeth Keckley (Gloria Reuben), a dressmaker and confidant of Mary Todd Lincoln (Sally Fields), and William Slade (Stephen Henderson) the male manservant in the White House. Absent, except perhaps as part of a group of Black men who attend the day of the actual vote, is the noted abolitionist Frederick Douglass. This could be seen as an accurate reflection of the period: the preoccupation of politicians was the Union, and genuine proponents of equality between black and whites were a small (though vocal) minority. However, this dominant focus on the white, male élites has been apparent in the earlier work of Spielberg. Schindler’s List has as its main characters the Aryan Oscar Schindler and Amon Goeth: Munich (also scripted by Tony Kushner) is pre-occupied with Israelis rather than Palestinians: Amistad, like Lincoln, has as lead characters the white members of the political élite. The exception is The Colour Purple where the focus is clearly on oppressed Afro-American women.

This, of course, is part of a larger representations found across Hollywood production. The 1989 Glory, which has a much greater attention devoted to Negroes fighting for the Union in the Civil war, still relies on the character of the white officer of a Negro regiment for much of its drama. It does offer Frederick Douglass a few lines of dialogue. Spielberg has a strong sense of Hollywood conventions and history. In one of the nicer touches in the film Senator Thaddeus Stevens, a noted abolitionist, takes the House of Representatives amendment home to read to his black housekeeper and partner. This is clearly a rebuttal of the notorious The Birth of a Nation, where Stevens is presented through the character of Senator Stoneman, who is suborned by his black housekeeper and paramour.

This is the point in the film when we hear the actual amendment, read by Stevens to his partner after the historic vote on January 31^st 1865.

“Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime where of the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.” (There is a second paragraph concerning implementation).

No mention of black people or of equality for black people. It points up the limitations of the Unionist North, the Amendment and the political establishment of the 1860s. Martin Scorsese’s Gangs of New York, shows another side of this problematic: the riots in New York against compulsory service in the Civil War armies. My sense of the US myths is that these limitations are not commonly part of the iconic representation of Lincoln. Indeed Spielberg seems to want to rescue Lincoln, assassinated just after the end of the war, from any culpability for the carpet-bagging exploitation of the defeated South and the reneging on promises to Negroes. Frederick Douglass wrote after the end of the Civil War that the Negro was “free from the individual master but a slave of society. He had neither money, property, or friends.  … He was turned loose naked, hungry and destitute to the open sky.” But the film ends with a flashback to Lincoln’s second inaugural address then held in March 1865: later in the year than in contemporary elections. The speech ends with the prayer, “With malice towards none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation’s wounds … to do all which may achieve a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations.”

Of course, this end scene plays into the inevitable comparisons when we have the first black President just starting his second term in the White House. Some of Barack Obama’s election speeches clearly played into the Lincoln tradition. In that sense, though this has been a long cherished project of Spielberg’s, the film speaks especially powerfully to contemporary USA. Despite the celebratory tone at the end of this film the project of what the film calls ‘racial equality’ has yet to complete its long, violent and demanding journey: as indeed has the States yet to achieve peace with all nations. This has probably played large in the sensibilities of both the Academy members and audiences. The Guardian newspaper (g2 film & music 22.02.13) handily provided some comparisons between the box office performances of Academy Award front-runners. Lincoln is out in front in the USA ($177 mill) ahead of Django Unchained, Les Misérables, Argo and Life of Pi. But overseas it trails behind all the other five titles ($59 mill to Life of Pi’s $466).  And in the UK it is followed by Argo trailing the other four, (£6.9 mill to Les Misérables £36 mill). The actual Academy Awards were spread across these films (and others) but Lincoln with twelve nominations only gained two Oscars. There seems to be a disjuncture between the Academy and the indigenous audience.

It is a cerebral movie, and outside of the USA the political machinations of the Washington élite in the 1860s may lack excitement and panache. Some of the reviews offered strong put-downs. However, despite its lack of action it is absorbing from beginning to end. And Spielberg and Kushner know how to ring the changes. The historic congressional vote combines the drama in the chamber with some nicely judged scenes around the waiting Union. And the so famous assassination is quite daringly different. Hollywood can still turn out a winner when the subject and the filmmakers are fully in tune.

No (Chile/US/France/Mexico 2011)

Chile / USA / France / Mexico 2011, Director Pablo Larrain. Screenplay adapted Pedro Peirano from the play Referendum by Antonio Skarmeta.

Like the Chilean director’s earlier films, No is set during the military dictatorship presided over by General Pinochet. We are right at the end when the Junta bowed to international pressure and organised a Referendum. To the surprise of the military, observers and many Chileans it lost this plebiscite. An important factor was the campaign, fronted by fifteen minutes daily on national television, to vote ‘No’. The campaign relied to a large degree on professional public relations experts. It is that campaign that is the central focus of this film.

It is a film definitely worth seeing. At times humorous, at time dramatic, it had an excellent cast headed by Gael García Bernal. The film includes footage showing the coup and the brutal repression of the Chilean working class and their organisations and parties. It also uses the actual television material from both right and left in the Referendum campaign: at times impressive, at times banal, and at time almost surreal.

The film was shot on a 1983 U-matic video camera, which gives a fairly uniform appearance to both the filmed footage and the archive material. The whole film has a sharp, tawdry look due to this. In fact, Pablo Larrain’s earlier Tony Manero had a low-budget tawdry feel which also matched its subject matter.

My major reservation was a rather lightweight political stance. This seems to follow on from the approach that was adopted in the actual television campaign in 1988. And there are clearly strands of irony in the presentation. But there is not a developed sense of the politics of the different class fractions and factions involved. Terms like ‘communist’, ‘socialist’ and ‘fascist’ recur frequently. However both the left and the right at this moment were somewhat disparate coalitions of differing social forces, and this the film misses out on illuminating this. Certainly other films from Chile have managed to deal effectively with the political landscape under the dictatorship. I also felt that the film subscribes to a view that probably over-emphasises the contribution of the television adverts: but the absence of other factors in its plotting also contributes to this lack of overall illumination.

My other reservation was technical and may only apply to the UK release. The U-matic video format gives an aspect ratio of 1.33:1: the ratio that preceded sound film, when the addition of an optical track produced 1.37:1. In the UK (and presumably in most territories) the film is distributed as a Digital Cinema Package. This comes (I think I am right) in a standard 1.85:1, with other ratios printed within the standard format. For 1.33 or 1.37 you get the central image bordered by black framing. On 35mm the projectionist could adjust the framing to the ratio: on DCP it comes ‘baked in’. Good quality cinema presentation involved bringing the black masking to frame the appropriate ratio. This is what usually happens at the Hyde Park Picture House where I viewed this film. They also continue the honourable tradition of opening the curtains at the start of the screening. Not so with No. For some odd reason the subtitles (in yellow) have been printed so that they frequently extend beyond the 1.33 ratio into the black borders. This means the black masking is unusable. Why, I don’t know, though it did seem that the font of the subtitles was larger than usual. I found this very distracting. I can usually flick my eyes up and down to accommodate both the image and the titles: with this film I had to flick to left and right to read all of the titles. I actually missed a few. The film is distributed by Network Releasing, but I could not see an end credit for titling, so I am not sure who is responsible.

So I feel it is a bit of a problematic movie, certainly in the UK. But it is still worth seeing. It is a distinctive film with a distinctive subject matter.

Masters of Cinema

Howard Assembly Rooms

This was a concert held at the Howard Assembly Rooms in Leeds. The Assembly Rooms were built alongside the Grand Theatre in the late C19th. In 1911, along with similar venues in other towns and cities, they were converted to screening the new ‘flicker’ entertainment. The building was gutted by fire in the 1920s, but in the 1970s returned as a film venue as The Plaza Cinema, which specialised in ‘adult entertainment’. More recently they have been refurbished as a concert venue managed by the Grand. The concerts are varied and include live music accompanying the screenings of films. However, the venue has neither 35mm nor HD digital facilities, so these rely on DVDs.
The recent concert featured The Tippet Quartet playing music by composers for film. The Quartet are John Mills and Jeremy Isaac – violins: Lydia Lowndes-Northcott – viola: and Bozidar Vukotic – cello. They have a reputation for playing both new and varied music.

The programme opened with Bernard Herrmann’s Echoes. The quartet played this alongside a screening of the last twenty minutes of Vertigo [1958, one of Herrmann’s most famous collaborations with Alfred Hitchcock. The projection had the sound turned down and subtitles switched on. It was clearly sourced from a DVD and not an especially good image. I did not watch the screen, but I do know the final part of the film pretty well: and the relevance of the music to the film seemed to come and go; though it was well performed. The concert picked up after that as we had only music. The next composer was Miklós Rózsa, the winner of three Academy Awards. The quartet performed his String Quartet No 1, opus 22. Bozidar Vukotic, who introduced most of the pieces, suggested that the piece included chords and similar familiar from Rozsa’’ film scores, and I thought I recognised Spellbound (1945) in there. I thought this a fine piece, very well played and enjoying good acoustics from the Assembly room hall.

After an interval the Quartet returned, announcing that the forecast heavy snow had commenced. Also to play an arrangements made for them of themes from the film music if Nino Rota, long-time collaborator with Federico Fellini. These included Amarcord (1973), La Dolce Vita (1960), and Otto e mezzo (1963). This was followed by the main theme from The Godfather (1971), the shortest item in the concert. Its brevity surprised the audience who failed to applaud, despite in being performed with excellence.

We then had Samuel Barber’s famous Adagio, which has graced a number of films, notably The Elephant Man (1980). It seems it was also played over the radio in the USA when Franklin D. Roosevelt passed on.

We then had Bernard Herrmann’s film music, from Psycho (1960), what else. It works surprisingly well as a concert piece, despite it seeming so essentially a set of cinematic sounds. And the concert ended with two tangos. The first by Astor Piazolla was titled Four for Tango, and was partly a tribute to Hermann. The crossover with Herrmann’s music for Psycho was very strong, where as the tango rhythms seemed quite muted. The final piece and tango was Carlos Gardel’s Por Una Cabeza, most famously associated with Scent of a Woman (1982). However, it has been used in at least nine other films. And it provided a lighter but beautiful finale to the programme.

It was a really enjoyable evening and worth struggling through the fresh snow as we made our way home. I suppose something by Dimitri Tiomkin would have been an appropriate addition to the concert.

The Black Pirate

USA – Elton Corp. – United Artists, 1926. Directed by Albert Parker. Scenario Lotta Wood, adapted by Jack Cunningham, story by Elton Thomas (Douglas Fairbanks).

This is one of the popular starring roles of Douglas Fairbanks in the 1920s. Having cemented his popularity as Zorro, one of the Four Musketeers and Robin Hood, Fairbanks now took on the larger than life character of a C17th pirate. In fact, there is more to his character than just that, because this is a swashbuckling tale with disguised heroes, bloodthirsty pirate crews, a threatened princess and lots of sea-borne action. Fairbanks always exercised careful control over his films and his on-screen grace and agility is seen in a number of carefully composed and exciting sequences.
The same care was excised on the new fairly new two-strip Technicolor film process. Many silent films had colour added – by hand, by tinting and toning or stencil painting, and by devices such as revolving filters. But Technicolor had developed a process that incorporated colour in the film stock: later they successfully developed three-strip process, which produced the full range of the spectrum. The two-strip process recorded red and green, but not yellow. Fairbanks and his production team went to great lengths to maximise the way they used this palette: even the leading lady was tested for her suitability for the filming in colour.
Of course, it is an old film and the original two-tone colours have to be processed on modern film stock. And the print is likely to show some signs of the wear and tear of years. However, Douglas Fairbanks remains a charismatic and visually engaging star whilst the early Technicolor has its own distinctive palette.
The film is screening at the Nation Media Museum in Bradford on Sunday February 3rd. As an added bonus there will be a live accompaniment with Darius Battiwalla at the piano.

Gangster Squad (US 2012)

Director – Reuben Fleischer, USA 2012.

A couple of reviews suggested that this was a fairly entertaining cops versus gangster story, based loosely on actual events. One lone honest cop recruits a small band of ethnically diverse fellow cops and takes on a vicious and powerful Los Angeles gangster supremo, Mickey Cohen. It turned out to be an uncredited remake of the 1987 success The Untouchables. Given the earlier film was scripted by David Mamet, directed by Brian de Palma and that it had a score by Ennio Morricone, this seems a somewhat foolhardy exercise. Josh Brolin, Ryan Gosling and company are not quite in the class of Sean Connery, Kevin Costner and Andy Garcia. And Sean Penn’s Cohen is a pale variation on De Niro’s Al Capone. Plus the CGI is less impressive than the earlier film’s Art Direction of William A. Elliott and Hal Gausman.

There should be credit for viewing the earlier film and/or script with close attention. This was most obvious in the final shootout, set in the grandiose foyer of a Chicago hotel and at the foot of a marble staircase! [Note though, I could not spot any homage to Eisenstein]. At one point Brolin throws Gosling, not a gun, but an ammunition clip. A little later a single deadly accurate gunshot is taken in exactly the same pose of that of Garcia in the earlier film, [here we get a homage to Cagney framed as a pieta]. The distinctive elements are stronger roles for the women: a more ethnically diverse team: and a brutal fistfight between Brolin and Penn, this replacing the rooftop showdown between Costner and Billy Drago.

The 1987 film translated the original television series into a gripping large screen drama: this 2012 production is a pale imitation of that classic which handles pastiche with much less aplomb than its predecessor.