Sadly Alan Rickman ended his career last month. He was one of the most interesting actors in British cinema in recent decades. His prime acting focus was the theatre and he bought to film the craft skills common among thespians trained for this medium. Among the accolades awarded him was ’46th best villain in film history’. A notable achievement when measured against the like of Jules Berry, James Cagney, Robert Ryan or Ann Savage.
He attracted notice first on film as a villain: Hans Gruber in the original Die Hard(1988). The sheer aplomb of his follow-up to a demand to release terrorists in jail, ‘I read about them in Time magazine’ makes it stand out in the film’s dialogue. His film follow-up as the Sherriff of Nottingham in Robin Hood Prince of Thieves (1991) was equally memorable. Who would not vote for a politician with a policy to ‘Abolish Christmas’. Rickman himself is quoted as saying ” I don’t play villains, I play very interesting people.” His villains were certainly were more interesting than the heroes they combated. Rickman had that assurance, found amongst really fine actors, of being able to pitch over the top and be effective.
He was also voted among the ‘sexiest screen actors’ in another poll. One thinks of his Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility (1995), who has so much more oomph than the character in the Austen novel: indeed more oomph than his film rival John Willoughby (Greg Wise). He was also good at very serious drama. He and Juliet Stevenson were memorable in the very fine Truly, Madly Deeply from BBC’s Screen 2 in 1990. And in a totally different vein he was the passing stranger/Samaritan with Sigourney Weaver in the Canadian Snow Cake 2006. The same year saw him as the angst father, Richis, in Perfume: The Story of a Murderer.
Since I only saw the first of the Harry Potter film adaptations I missed his Severus Snape in the several episodes of the chronicle. However, I really enjoyed his Alexander Dane in Galaxy Quest (1999) – I can actually watch Star Trek now with a quiet smile.
Happily the Hebden Bridge Picture House is offering a tribute with a screening of Blow Dry (2001) in which Rickman plays the hairdresser competing in a major Championship. A plus, the film is set in Keighley, seemingly a popular location for British films. This is one of those comedies with its own distinctive British flavour: scripted by Simon Beaufoy of The Full Monty (1997) success. And Rickman plays opposite another lost British actor, Natasha Richardson. Moreover, on this occasion the film is screening in its original 35mm format.
This is a seminal film from the 1960s, partly because it was a trail blazer in addressing issues around sexual orientation. When the film appeared homosexuality was illegal and gay people were constantly victimised, especially by the police. What makes this more impressive is that two major British stars lead the film, Dirk Bogarde as Melville Farr and Sylvia Syms as his wife Laura. This is very much Bogarde’s film, but Syms is excellent and there is one powerful scene between the couple when they have to confront the question of same sex attraction. There is also a very goods supporting cast with actors like Peter McEnery, Dennis Price and Derren Nesbitt.
The film was produced by Allied Filmmakers, whose other productions of the period included Whistle Down the Wind (1961). The key figures in this film would appear to be the team of Michael Relph [Producer] and Basil Dearden [Director]. They made a series of important social problem films in the 1950s and early 1960s. Two of their really interesting films are Pool of London (1951) which addresses inter-racial romance and Violent Playground (1958) dealing with police and crime in Manchester. One aspect of their work is the use of location filming and a consequent sense of realism. Their films tend to appear somewhat conventional today as they have to operate within the conventions of popular film of the time. So there is always a sense that something is held back: neither Pool of London or Victim go the whole way in showing explicit physical contact either between a black man and a white woman or between two men.
However, when one take into account the censorship of the time by the British Board of Film Censors this is understandable. Victim received an X certificate when it was released and had to be cut by about ten minutes. Intriguingly over the years the certification has gone down: 15, 12 and then PG. So credit should also go to the writers, Janet Green and John McCormick. As so frequently was the case the film subject has been wrapped up in a genre plot, in this case a thriller concerning blackmail. The film actually has a strong noir feel, much of this due to the cinematography of Otto Heller, who had a tendency to expressionist camera work. [He also worked on the then infamous, now famous Peeping Tom (1960)].
The version screening on Sunday at The Hyde Park Picture House appears to be a full length version, 101 minutes. Equally good news, it is screening in a pristine 35mm print. This is definitely a key popular artwork from the 1960s, that decade that dramatised nearly all of the major contradictions in British society. It is also a very entertaining film, and much better seen on the big screen.
This Warner Bros. classic from 1942 is a film to visit and re-visit. It has a starry cast: Humphrey Bogart, Ingrid Bergman, Paul Henreid, Claude Rains, Conrad Veidt, Sidney Greenstreet, Peter Lorre and [notably] Dooley Wilson. This is an example of ‘classical cinema’ as set out by David Bordwell and Kristin Thomson. That is mainly due to the equally starry production team marshalled by producer Hal Wallis and director Michael Curtiz. The leading lights were writers Julius J. Epstein and Philip G. Epstein with Howard Koch, cinematographer Arthur Edeson, art designer Carl Jules Weyl, editor Owen Marks and composer Max Steiner.
The film offers amongst its many pleasures ‘As Time Goes By’ played one more time and a rousing rendition of the Marseillaise. There may be a doomed romance but there is also the start of a beautiful friendship. And there is that memorable motif, an ellipsis followed by a cigarette. Less typical of Hollywood, the wartime propaganda manages to reference the Spanish Civil War in its antifascist mode.
For the pleasures of seeing it in its original format visit the Cottage Road Cinema in Leeds this coming Wednesday at 8.15 p.m.
I didn’t think much of American Hustle, but I liked The Fighter and David O’Russell’s 1999 film 3 Kings. Joy seems to have had very mixed reviews and has been treated as almost an independent film with a reduced release. It hasn’t been a massive box office success and its IMDB rating reflects audience disappointment. I wondered about seeing it but it does feature Jennifer Lawrence in the lead and she’s always watchable. So, I ended up as the sole audience member in a tea-time showing in my local 300 seat cinema. The manager even came into the auditorium to see if I was OK and to offer me blankets for the cold. And it was cold. But I still had a good time.
I’d heard radio reviews and read press reports that this was a mish-mash – several films jumbled up etc. etc. But I thought it was totally coherent with great narrative drive and 124 minutes sped by. Perhaps I was simply mesmerised by Ms Lawrence? I guess the film is a form of biopic about Joy Mangano, the inventor of the Miracle Mop and other products for her company Ingenious Designs and subsequently an important presenter on the Home Shopping Network. I knew nothing about this so I think I followed the narrative that Russell and Bridesmaids writer Annie Mumolo created without every worrying about its ‘fidelity’ as a biopic.
What did strike me was the way in which Jennifer Lawrence completely controls the narrative – and dominates every scene. Given the strength of a cast that includes Robert De Niro, Isabella Rossellini, Diane Ladd and Virginia Madsen (and later Bradley Cooper) that’s no mean achievement. At one point I thought to myself, “she’s got it” – the star image of the great female icons of Studio Hollywood. This could be Barbara Stanwyck or Joan Crawford. I was pleased to find these thoughts echoed by Graham Fuller in Sight & Sound (February). As Fuller points out, Russell presents a strong woman without the need of a love interest (the suggestion of how she might feel about the Bradley Cooper is at the end of the film and doesn’t drive the narrative). There is a brief moment where crime/physical/judicial jeopardy is a threat but other wise she is Joan Crawford in Mildred Pierce sans sex and crime – and still riveting to watch. What does drive the narrative is her dysfunctional family and the shenanigans of small-scale manufacturing as an entrepreneurial activity. Since the ideological discourse of the film is about entrepreneurs and the American Dream (with an anecdote about David O. Selznik and Jennifer Jones underpinning Joy’s determination to make it) I should feel antipathy towards the film, but identification with Joy takes over. Fuller is again on the money with his reference to Erin Brockovich and perhaps what is attractive is the class struggle embodied in the narrative. The time period of the film did not feel very specific to me, partly because Russell uses such a wide range of popular songs and music from TV and films. I was quite happy watching the film as if it was a 1970s blue-collar film. The factory that Joy sets up reminded me of various films, including The Pajama Game (1957) with Doris Day and, much more recently, the sweat shop in Real Women Have Curves (2002). Watching various trailers and online promotional features, it’s evident that Russell had the rights to a lot of music material, some of which he uses very well. I was most affected by his use of ‘Expecting to Fly’ by Buffalo Springfield, but also puzzled by the preponderance of music from the 1950s, 60s and 70s. Is there some kind of commentary on Joy’s story in this?
I’m not sure why the film has been criticised for jumbling different genres. Perhaps it is the narrative strategy that allows Joy’s grandmother to have a voiceover narration or her mother to dominate the narrative at times via her immersion in soap opera worlds as a form of escape. Both these seemed fine to me as aspects of the influences, positive and negative on Joy’s story. The film is frequently referred to as a comedy. I suppose it is, but for me it was more like a melodrama. Two other thoughts that don’t seem to have got much attention elsewhere. One is the confirmation of the ‘women’s picture narrative’ via the best friend, Jackie (Dascha Polanco) whose action at a crucial point saves Joy. The other is just to mention Édgar Ramírez, the Venezuelan actor who plays Joy’s ex-husband. I knew I’d seem him before and I later realised he was Carlos in the Olivier Assayas film about Carlos The Jackal.
I’m sure that there is a lot more to say about Joy and I would be interested in it as a student text – except it’s rather long at 124 minutes (though it isn’t too long as a narrative). In the third image above, you can get a flavour of the ‘overdetermined’ nature of Russell’s imagery. Having dealt with the opposition, Joy in her aviator shades, leather jacket and rough cut hair peers in a Christmas shop window in downtown Dallas. She looks at a Christmas display of a trainset with scenery and models as artificial snow falls from above the window (an interesting invention in itself). Joy is thinking about the world she created out of paper cut-outs, damaged in a row between her parents. I think it was Nat King Cole on the soundtrack and for me snowflakes always make me think of Citizen Kane. There are many commentators online who thought that Joy was boring. I despair.