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Very rarely does a sequel manage to hold a candle to the original; The Godfather Part II didn’t just equal The Godfather, which remains a cornerstone in American cinema, number of cineastes has opined that it even managed to go one step ahead. Francis Ford Coppola’s follow-up to his legendary adaptation of Mario Puzo’s tale of family and honour was both a prequel and continuation of the original. The film has two threads running in parallel – aptly placed flashback sequences chronicle the escape of Vito Corleone (Robert De Niro) from Sicily as a child and his subsequent rise in power in a working-class New York neighbourhood; the ‘present’ on the other hand shows the continuation of familial legacy and making of inroads into Las Vegas and Havana by Michael Corleone (Al Pacino). While the original had limited its scope to the Corleone family, the sequel expanded it to far beyond such confines as it juxtaposed the Corleone saga (that too in two distinctly different timeframes) with that of modern American history. Yet, for all its breathtaking scope, the film also managed to be a fascinating human story – Vito’s chance introduction to the world of guns and his smart rise while retaining his sanity, on one hand, and Michael’s all-encompassing power and his absolute ruthlessness, on the other. Incredibly photographed, elegiacally paced, and hauntingly scored, the film’s grand vision and its melancholic tone are worth beholding. Al Pacino was absolutely devastating as Michael, while Robert De Niro was no less arresting as the young Vito. The supporting cast was also superb, especially Lee Strasberg as Michael’s double-edged ally, and John Cazale as Fredo, his tragic brother, whose murder provides the final death knell to any chances for his redemption.
Director: Francis Ford Coppola
Genre: Crime Drama/Gangster Movie/Epic
Language: English/Sicilian
Country: US
Originally intended as a 5-hour long TV miniseries, Bergman later cut Scenes from a Marriage to a more manageable feature length for theatrical release. The film begins with Johan (Erland Josephson) and Marianne (Liv Ullman), an upwardly mobile couple and seemingly in a wonderful long-standing marriage, getting to know over dinner that the relationship of two of their close friends have grown severely sour and are on the verge of divorce. Eventually Johan informs the strikingly beautiful but emotionally distant Marianne that he is leaving her for another woman. The film goes on to capture their on-and-off sojourn over the next few years. This remains a searing, intimate, layered and emotionally draining portrayal of the breakdown of their complex love-hate relationship, and the heavy toll it ends up taking on the two individuals. The movie, though verbose in nature and despite its discomfiting premise, managed to keep me engaged thanks in huge parts to the great script, tight editing, and of course, outstanding performances by the two leads. Josephson and Ullman are present in nearly every frame of the film, and they managed to captivate me in every single of them. Even Bibi Andersson and Jan Malmjo pitched in with blistering turns in their cameo as the warring couple. This uncompromising and disturbing examination of marital fallout remains one of the best works of the Swedish master, and formed the basis for Husbands and Wives, which in turn was one of Woody Allen’s best works.
Director: Ingmar Bergman
Genre: Drama/Psychological Drama/Marital Drama
Language: Swedish
Country: Sweden
Through a Glass Darkly was Ingmar Bergman’s first entry to what would come to be known as “Trilogy of Faith” or “Chamber Dramas”. This profoundly complex human drama is a deeply philosophical work filled with themes ranging from religious ambivalence to familial dysfunction to sexual awakening to clinical illness. The film comprises of just four characters – Karin (Harriet Andersson), a disturbed young lady who’s suffering from slow mental disintegration; her father David (Gunnar Bjornstrand), a famous writer who is studying her daughter with cold detachment; Martin (Max Von Sydow), her loving husband and a compassionate doctor; and, Minus, her emotionally fragile brother having difficulty in coming to terms with his adolescence. Shot in gorgeous black-and-white, largely bereft of music, and set in a single location – that of an isolated island, this is a searing yet poetically beautiful examination of human alienation and isolation (both emotional and spiritual), and the inherent godlessness of our universe. The film, in keeping with Bergman’s fascination with the dark recesses of the human mind, is filled with disturbing elements and subtexts (most notably Karin's complicated relation with Minus), all brought forth through immensely layered storytelling. Great turns by the cast, especially Harriet Andersson, make the film all the more absorbing.
Director: Ingmar Bergman
Genre: Drama/Psychological Drama/Religious Drama/Family Drama
Language: Swedish
Country: Sweden
Satyajit Ray once mentioned, “… the one film that I would make the same way, if I had to do it again, is Charulata”. Adapted from a semi autobiographical novella by the great Rabindranath Tagore, this complex and haunting love triangle is set at the backdrop of the Bengal Renaissance – a movement that led to the formation of “modern” India. Bhupati (Sailen Mukherjee) is an upper class Bengali intellectual who is forever engrossed in the political newspaper he edits and prints; consequently Charulata (Madhabi Mukherjee), his beautiful and educated wife, has immersed herself into Bengali literature to alleviate her ennui. The arrival of Bhupati’s young cousin brother Amal (Soumitra Chatterjee), a sensitive poetry-loving vagabond-at-heart, breaks her stupor, and before long, the emotionally fragile Charu finds herself falling for the bohemian Amal. The exquisitely paced film boasts of stirring performances by the three leads, with Madhabi and Soumitra’s being truly astounding. The film comprises of a slew of unforgettable moments, right from the opening where Charu is whiling her time with her opera-glasses, and the one with Charu riding on her swing in complete abandon (perhaps an homage to Kurosawa’s Ikiru), to the terrific freeze-framed finale (reminiscent of Truffaut’s The 400 Blows). The scene where Amal slowly looks towards Charu, who’s standing at a distance, while Bhupati is mournfully speaking on trust, oblivious to Charu’s growing feelings for Amal – well, that was devastating! And Kishore Kumar’s rendition of the classic Tagore song Ami Chini Go Chini was cinema at its purest. The film boasts of great set designs, marvelous usage of light and shadows, and a lovely score (the latter by Ray himself).
p.s. This is my 500th movie review at Cinemascope, and what better way to reach this milestone than via a movie by my favourite filmmaker. So here's a hop, skip and jump from me!
Director: Satyajit Ray
Genre: Drama/Romantic Drama/Psychological Drama/Political Drama
Language: Bengali
Country: India
Though the likes of Sergio Leone, Sam Peckinpah et al are revered for their Westerns, when it comes to one name vis-à-vis this quintessential American genre, the choice is usually very simple – John Ford. And his My Darling Clementine, along with his The Searchers, Stagecoach and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, rank among the greatest Westerns ever made. One of the many retellings of the Wyatt Earp legend that eventually led to the legendary shootout at OK Corral, the film had Henry Fonda playing the role of the iconic former lawman-turned-cattleman. Upon reaching a shanty town called Tombstone, his cattle are stolen and his youngest brother is murdered. He quietly vows to avenge, and takes the job of Marshall to take the notorious, smooth-talking Old Man Clanton and his sons down – one way or the other. The film is however not just about the feud, as it was enriched through the inclusion of some fine characters, not the least of which being a fatalist, self-destructive, Shakespeare-quoting loner called Doc Holiday, and the two women in his life – the hot headed beaut Chihuahua and the beautiful lady from his past, Clementine (who Earl starts developing a soft corner for). The film opens with the soulful ballad “Oh My Darlin’ Clementine”, and maintains a sense of poeticism and light-heartedness throughout its crisp length, despite the harsh, rugged and unforgiving terrain where the story is set. Lovingly paced, filled with well-delineated characters and great off-the-cuff deadpan humour, this gorgeously photographed film on how the West was won, remains one of the great American masterpieces.
Director: John Ford
Genre: Western/Traditional Western
Language: English
Country: US
If Mr. Hulot’s Holiday was a refreshing comedy and Mon Oncle a lovely concoction of comedy and mild satire, Playtime, the third film in Tati’s brilliant Monsieur Hulot series, was a raging satire of the highest order – a cringing body blow against incessant automation and ultra-modernization. Unlike in the previous two films, the Paris we all know of is completely invisible here; instead what we have is a gray, wan, drab and utterly impersonal urban jungle of glass, steel and gadgets, and a never-ending stream of automobiles. And in this immensely dreary post-modern world, Hulot seems to be comically and anachronistically out of place – a nostalgic symbol of a lost era. The film is filled with some terrific gags and set-pieces, with the runaway winners being an elaborate, carnivalesque sequence at an upscale, recently refurbished restaurant, and one of the most unforgettable traffic jams ever recorded on screen. Its greatest achievement is that, despite being filled with blistering satire and sulphureous ironies, the message is never in-your-face, as they have been beautifully masqueraded through amazing wit and humour. Sadly for us cinephiles, because of its ambitious scale and radical scope, this movie nearly destroyed Tati’s career as a filmmaker par excellence.
Director: Jacques Tati
Genre: Comedy/Social Satire/Urban Comedy
Language: French
Country: France
