Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
This surprisingly stately clip from Jess Franco's 1972 monster rally DRACULA CONTRA FRANKENSTEIN features Alberto Dalbes as Dr. Seward and Geneviève Robert as Almira, the gypsy woman who comes to his rescue. This scene brings to mind something I've always admired about Franco's, and also Mario Bava's, horror films: unlike American movies, where ugly vestiges of our country's puritan foundation lingers, their films never demonize witches, instead presenting them as serious women of intuition and arcane knowledge, who are often called upon to explain to characters who have chosen a more narrow way of living what is out of balance in their half-understood world, and just as often pointing their way to survival. Geneviève Robert is wonderful in this scene, and one regrets that she didn't make more films. Today, Robert is married to producer-director Ivan Reitman and a Reuters photo of the couple attending the Toronto Film Festival earlier this month can be found here.
Incidentally, Jess Franco and Lina Romay are currently in Austin, Texas, where they are being fêted at FantasticFest with a Lifetime Achievement Award. Here is a schedule of related events and I congratulate Jess and Lina on yet another long overdue recognition of their vast contribution to fantastic cinema.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Irene has recently directed her first short film, DAWNLAND, the poetic 18th century story of a young white girl's adoption by and assimilation into the Native American Abenaki tribe of Vermont, which was chosen to be featured at the recent Selento International Film Festival in Selento, Italy. It's a lovely film with obviously personal associations for its maker, who dedicated the film to her mother and grandmother. She intends DAWNLAND to be the first film in a trilogy of related shorts to be collected under the umbrella title "Champlain Suite," referring to the Lake Champlain setting which all three projected stories share in common.
The website is offering copies of DAWNLAND for sale; there's also a clip there for viewing, as well as a "director's statement" about the project. Irene's fans will also be excited to learn that her website is also making available, for the first time, autographed photos -- including choice shots from INFERNO, some of them in color. (She confessed to me that she had a hard time coming to grips with celebrity, and for many years refused autograph requests because she couldn't understand why her signature should be considered more desirable than anyone else's -- so there aren't many signed pictures of her in circulation... yet.) There's also a fully annotated photo gallery to make a visit well worth your clicks, a stunning assortment of film, stage and rare modelling shots.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
In the time I've been playing hooky from this blog, I have, among other things, been delving deeply into an obsession with the music of Françoise Hardy. Ours has been a lengthy courtship; I've been marginally aware of her and her work for many years, principally with her early, so-called "Yé Yé" period and the many striking modelling photos dating from that early Sixties period, some of which were snapped by the unerring eye of William Klein. The first female pop singer-songwriter to emerge in the 1960s, Mlle. Hardy was -- and remains, at age 65 -- such a strikingly beautiful woman that her image is difficult to regard separately from her music, but her music is just as durable and classical as she, rewarding close listening in all of its eras. One might imagine that a voice so plaintive, soothing, vulnerable and articulate could only be crushed if saddled with more instrumentation than a similarly direct acoustic guitar or piano, but over the decades, she has proved herself a remarkably flexible artist with a voice capable of keeping abreast of musical trends and standing up to volume. As for her image, you can visit its many phases in different videos available on YouTube, all of which make it seem incredible that no one has yet assembled a DVD of her archival performances for French television -- there's a wealth of material there that's as compulsively watchable as it is listenable.
Naturally, as soon as Françoise Hardy became a nationally known artist in 1962, she began receiving offers to appear onscreen. The IMDb credits her with a total of 10 acting roles in film and television, most notably including a short uncredited role as the mayor's secretary in WHAT'S NEW, PUSSYCAT? (1964), an elegant supporting role in John Frankenheimer's GRAND PRIX (1966), and a brief cameo as an American officer's attaché in Jean-Luc Godard's Masculin-Feminin (1966) -- a movie I principally remember for how she seemed to stop time by stepping out of a limousine and walking briskly across the screen in a white pants suit. Rarely has a director so eloquently admitted the futility of art's aspiration to equal natural beauty. But the first filmmaker to cast Mlle. Hardy in a feature film was that renowned connoisseur of French beauty, Roger Vadim, who featured the fledgling 19 year-old artiste in his 1963 feature Château en Suède ("Castle in Sweden", 1963), based on a play by Françoise Sagan.
A farcical thriller, Château en Suède had the misfortune of being released in France a couple of days before the assassination of US President John F. Kennedy in November 1963, which led to dire boxoffice returns. The film was subsequently not widely distributed outside France, though it starred Monica Vitti and Jean Louis Trintignant -- two of the hottest names in international cinema, both captured in the full bloom of their youth and beauty in Technicolor and Franscope. Lopert Pictures Corporation issued the film in the USA under the ignoble title NUTTY, NAUGHTY CHATEAU, but hardly anyone saw it and no copies of this version have resurfaced. My web searches turned up this useful if dismissive TIME Magazine review of the English-dubbed import, dated October 1964.
Thanks to a charming -- but alas, mislabelled -- YouTube video of Hardy performing "Je Suis d'Accord" (a Scopitone misidentified by the poster as a clip from Vadim's film), it became one of the chief priorities of my Hardy obsession to locate a copy of this now-difficult-to-see movie, which was apparently released on VHS in France back in the 1980s. Fortunately, I was able to locate a DVD-R copy from a seller on the P2P (person to person) website iOffer. The frame grabs I've provided here attest to its acceptable quality. I don't speak French, so I couldn't appreciate the fine points of its dialogue, but the film is easy enough to follow on a visual level, and probably best appreciated from a purely visual standpoint.
One of the most intriguing facets of the film is that, like Vadim's earlier production BLOOD AND ROSES (Et mourir et plaisir, 1960), it takes place in modern day but, once we enter the chateau, everyone dresses in 18th century garb. When Trintignant first enters this principal setting, after main titles drive-throughs of various contemporary Paris locations, the film's look takes a sudden turn into something that looks remarkably like Mario Bava's THE WHIP AND THE BODY (La frusta e il corpo), first released shortly ahead of Vadim's film in August 1963.
Director of photography Armand Thirard (a silent film veteran who had previously shot Vadim's ...AND GOD CREATED WOMAN) presents us with a conspicuously more warm-blooded Monica Vitti than Michelangelo Antonioni gave us in his black-and-white widescreen masterpieces. She proves herself an adept comedienne, and the film would count as pleasurable if only for Thirard's occasional closeups of her.
As family cousin Eric, Trintignant arrives at the chateau under the impression that his uncle Hugo's (Curd Jurgens) first and much younger wife Ophelia has died, an impression we initially share. Hugo has remarried another youngster, Eleanore (Vitti), who is only in it for the money to judge by the "incestuous" affair she is conducting with available "son" Sébastien (Jean-Claude Brialy). Left alone at a dinner table where much wine has flowed, Eric sees a feminine hand creep around the frame of a hung painting, and later has a spectral encounter with Ophelia (Hardy), who is in fact still alive, if something of a nutcase, and lives in hiding with a menagerie of animals while sleeping with Sébastien. Once Eric is enticed into Eleanore's bed, the backstory becomes more pronounced and he soon knows too much about the family's private business to live...
The film has a number of impressive visual moments, including a split-diopter shot that posits Vitti in the foreground and Brialy in the distant background, both in equal focus, and a Bava-like bedroom shot that finds Vitti's and Trintignant's nude bodies obscured by a foregrounded lantern. Unfortunately, its comic content is not as lovely or refined as the rest of it, and we're left with an obvious misfire: worth seeing, but far less than the sum of its nice parts. In one of those parts, Eric confirms Ophelia's physical tangibility by touching her bare knee, a moment that Trintignant and Hardy's co-star Jean-Claude Brialy would later famously reprise with pretty Laurence de Monaghan in Eric Rohmer's classic CLAIRE'S KNEE (Le genou de Claire, 1970).
In Françoise Hardy's recent autobiography LE DÉSESPOIR DES SINGES... ET AUTRES BAGATELLES, she devotes only a single paragraph to her Château en Suède experience, noting that she disliked the early-morning, getting-made-up-and-costumed, and waiting-around aspects of filmmaking, and that she was uncomfortable with scenes that required her to kiss and frolic in bed with Brialy, a fact that is sadly apparent onscreen.