MR. KLEIN: finally – a 43-year-old critique rediscovered

Alain Delon in MR. KLEIN

Here’s a chance to see a brilliant movie almost nobody has seen in 43 years. The Roxie and BAMPFA are screening Joseph Losey’s slowburn thriller Mr. Klein, a searing critique of French collaboration with the Nazis. Mr. Klein stars Alain Delon as a predator trapped by his own obsession.

To make sure we understand the stakes, Mr. Klein opens with a sobering pseudo-medical exam, absurdly intended to determine if a woman is Jewish; the waiting room overflows with others awaiting the humiliating and terrifying “examination”.

Only then do we meet Robert Klein (Delon) in his splendid silk dressing gown, living in an opulent Paris apartment with his randy mistress. Klein is a bottom feeder who profits from the desperation of Jewish art collectors; when they flee France to escape the Nazis, Klein unapologetically buys their art at rock bottom prices.

Then Klein gets a Jewish newspaper delivered to his door. He is Alsatian and his name is Klein, but some Jews are named Klein. There is another Robert Klein – a Jewish Klein. What is the extent of the mistaken identity? Is it inadvertent, or is someone trying to paint Klein as Jewish? Who is this other Robert Klein, and is he masterminding a frame job? Klein hits the streets in his trench coat and fedora, trying to solve the mystery himself.

Klein’s journey becomes surreal and then Kafkaesque, as what he thinks is a whodunit is interspersed with clips of the ever more riuhkess French police hunting down Jews. Klein, at first only vaguely understanding that he, too, is at risk, is racing against the clock.

The improbably handsome Alain Delon has eyes that can switch off any glimmer of empathy – perfect for playing sociopaths. The best analysis of Delon’s gift is Sheila O’Malley‘s.

Mr. Klein showcases Delon at 41, after his iconic run of Jean-Pierre Melville crime classics: Le Samourai, Le Cercle Rouge and Un Flic. Seven years earlier, he had been able to play the young guy matched with Jean Gabin and Lino Ventura in The Sicilian Clan. Now, even with his still dazzling looks, Delon has the weight of a life lived into his forties.

Mr. Klein also features a slate of French actresses: the great Jeanne Moreau, Francine Bergé, Juliet Berto and Francine Racette. Michael Lonsdale, so good in The Day of the Jackal three years before, is also excellent here (and has his own luxurious dressing gown).

Joseph Losey and his regular cinematographer Gerry Fisher keep both Robert Klein and the audience off-balance, bouncing between Klein’s richly-colored apartment, his surreal dreamlike visit to a country estate, the noirishly mysterious haunts of the other Klein and a starkly realistic depiction of France’s most unpleasant history. Losey ironically inserts an Alsatian dog. It all culminates in Klein’s one final miscalculation.

Losey’s 1947 directorial debut was the political parable The Boy with the Green Hair. In 1951, he remade M with an inventive basement-to-roof exploration of Los Angeles’ storied Bradbury Building. Later that year, he turned the usually sympathetic good guy Van Heflin into the twisted bad guy in The Prowler. After being named at HUAC, he was blacklisted and, in 1953, successfully set up shop in Europe. His The Go-Between won the Palm d’Or at Cannes, and he made four of Dirk Bogarde’s most notable movies in the late 1950s and 1960s. He was 67 when he directed Mr. Klein.

Mr. Klein depicts the historical Vel’ d’Hiv roundup, when French police swept up over 11,000 Jews on the same day, July 16, 1942, and detained them in a stadium, the Velodrome d’Hiver; they were then transported to Auschwitz to be murdered.

French audiences in 1976 did not want to be reminded that collaboration was a mainstream phenomenon. Mr. Klein depicts French police enthusiastically hunting down Jews, theater patrons laughing heartily at a grotesquely anti-Semitic farce, and regular Parisians nonchalantly lining up for bread at the boulangerie indifferent to Jews being bused off to concentration camps.

Mr. Klein was nominated for seven Césars (the French equivalents of Oscars) and won best film and best director. Until this reissue by Rialto Pictures, Mr. Klein has essentially been a lost film. It is not currently available on the major streaming platforms, nor can it be found on DVD, except for some bootlegs from Asia.

Mr. Klein will play at BAMPFA in Berkeley on December 4, 14 & 18 and at San Francisco’s Roxie December 6-12.

Alain Delon in MR. KLEIN

Stream of the Week: BRICK – hardboiled neo-noir in high school

Joseph Gordon-Levitt in BRICK

Writer-director Rian Johnson’s gloriously inventive 2005 debut, Brick, was inspired by Johnson’s love of Dashiell Hammett’s novels and his own dark memories of high school.

Brick is a hard-boiled detective story, complete with a femme fatale and a plot right out of a Dick Powell classic noir like Murder, My Sweet or Cry Danger.

The genius of Brick is that it takes place in the teenage culture of 2005 San Clemente. The characters roam the isolated school corridors where the nerd eats lunch by himself, the drama room, the vice-principal’s office, the empty football field where kids can meet after school the party at the popular girl’s house. The kingpin crime lord operates out of his mother’s basement; he and his gang emerge upstairs in the kitchen where his mom supplies breakfast cereal and dispenses milk from a pitcher shaped like a chicken.

The dialogue is Hammettesque:

  • I gave you Jerr to see him eaten, not to see you fed.
  • The ape blows or I clam.
  • Bulls would gum it. They’d flash their dusty standards at the wide-eyes and probably find some yegg to pin, probably even the right one. No cops, not for a bit
  • Brad was a sap. You weren’t. You were with him, and so you were playing him. So you’re a player. With you behind me I’d have to tie one eye up watching both your hands, and I can’t spare it.

The noir patter works because Johnson and the cast play it dead seriously, with no hint of irony.

In Nate Jones’ interview in Vulture, Johnson says “One thing I don’t believe in is the notion that this is a dusty old genre and you have to find a way to flip the old tropes on their heads. The basic machinery of it, the tropes of it, are why it works.

Brick was at that point in Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s career, between Mysterious Skin (2004) and Lookout (2007), when it was becoming clear what a major talent he is.

Norah Zehetner in BRICK

The femme fatale is played by Norah Zehetner in an unforgettable performance. Zehetner works a lot, and did ten episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, but Brick may be her career-topper.

Rian Johnson went on to make another original feature with Gordon-Levitt, Looper, along with the 2017 Star Wars movie. Knives Out, Johnson’s new take on the drawing room mystery, hits theaters this weekend.

Brick is available to stream on Netflix, AYouTube and Google Play.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt in BRICK

THE LAST PICTURE SHOW: even better now

Timothy Bottoms, Ben Johnson and Sam Bottoms in THE LAST PICTURE SHOW

On November 20, Turner Classic Movies is airing Peter Bogdanovich’s 1971 masterpiece The Last Picture Show. It’s a movie about kids that is best appreciated by grown-ups, especially grown-ups with some mileage on them.

The Last Picture Show is the story of 18-year-olds in a tiny, windblown Texas town in the early 1950s, from Larry McMurtry’s novel about his own upbringing in Archer City, Texas. It’s a coming of age film about teens finishing high school: the sensitive Sonny (Timothy Bottoms), his macho best friend Duane (Jeff Bridges) and pretty, snotty Jacy (Cybill Shepherd), entitled by her looks and her family’s wealth. There’s also a sweet, intellectually disabled boy Billy (Sam Bottoms). The boys’ male role model is Sam the Lion (Ben Johnson in an Oscar-winning performance), an older bachelor cowpoke who owns the town’s cafe, movie theater and pool hall.

The film was actually shot in Archer City, which took the movie name of a Texas ghost town, Anarene. (Decades later, Archer City also showed up in a bank robbery in 2016’s Hell and High Water.)

Cybill Shepherd in THE LAST PICTURE SHOW

18-year-olds wonder how they will navigate the world of adults that they are about to enter. It turns out that, for the kids in the movie, if only they paid attention, there’s plenty to lean about life from the adults in Anarene. The other thing that 18-year-olds obsess about is their sexuality, super-fueled by hormones but piloted by immature brains.

It’s a remarkable thing to watch a coming of age story about 18-year-olds when you are 18 and then again forty years later when you know stuff.

When I saw The Last Picture Show at San Jose’s domed Century Theaters in 1971, I was the same age as the main characters, and I was especially interested in their sexual escapades. I was, however, discerning enough to appreciate that this was a great movie, and I fully experienced the heartbreak of the Cloris Leachman character and grasped that Sam the Lion’s authority came from his decency and dignity.

Peter Bogdanovich with Jesse Hawthorne Ficks at the Roxie

In September, I was privileged to attend one of the year’s most stirring experiences of Bay Area cinema culture. The Roxie Theater screened the The Last Picture Show – with the legendary Bogdanovich himself in attendance for two Q&A sessions, plus a screening of his hard-to-find Saint Jack (1979).

Ben Johnson in THE LAST PICTURE SHOW

Rewatching The Last Picture Show, I was especially struck by the subtle yet emotionally powerful performances by Ben Johnson, Clu Gulager and Ellen Burstyn

The plot is about the kids, but Ben Johnson’s character is the center of the film. Johnson underplays the part, and Bogdanovich says that Johnson didn’t even like to say lines at all. But Johnson nailed two unforgettable speeches. In the first, his eyes flash as he spits out his disgust at bullying. In the other, he recalls a love affair; as a clueless kid the first time around, I failed to connect the dots as who the woman was. Ben Johnson’s Oscar acceptance speech (you can find it on YouTube) is still my all-time favorite.

Clu Gulager in THE LAST PICTURE SHOW

Clu Gulager plays an oil rig foreman who is the illicit squeeze of his boss’ wife (Burstyn) . Gulager did scores of TV Westerns in the 1960s, including 105 appearances as the sheriff on The Virginian. The Last Picture Show is probably his best-ever screen performance. The Director’s Cut also adds some sizzle to his sex scene with Jacy in the pool hall. This guy is trapped in a job he will never improve upon and an affair he will never control; Gulager perfectly conveys his bitter dissatisfaction.

Unlike Gulager, Burstyn was already a prestige actress. Here, she brings both searing and withering looks at the men and wise and comforting, if cynical, advice to her daughter.

This is a great film, and it’s just as timeless today as it was in 1971.

Ellen Burstyn in THE LAST PICTURE SHOW

MOTHERLESS BROOKLYN: atmospheric slow burn

Gugu Mbatha-Raw and Edward Norton in MOTHERLESS BROOKLYN

Edward Norton adapted the screenplay for, directed and stars in the atmospheric mystery Motherless Brooklyn. A detective’s partner is killed, and his search for the killers plunges him into a web of intrigue. It’s a slow burn paranoid thriller, along the lines of Chinatown, although not nearly as good and set in the New York City of the early 1950s and not nearly as good.

Norton gets the postwar NYC pretty much perfect. If you love the automobiles of the period, especially the Plymouths and Chevrolets, you’ll be in heaven.

The paranoia comes from the omnipotence of master urban redeveloper Robert Moses (under a different name in Motherless Brooklyn). It’s actually pretty accurate history, if a bit esoteric for popular entertainment.

Norton plays novelist Jonathan Lethem’s private detective Lionel Essrog, who has Tourette’s syndrome. Tourette’s was even less understood in the America of the early 1950s, so that creates some fodder, along with the fact that detectives who have to sneak around are not well-served by involuntary outbursts. Norton is always good, but it’s hard not to see this as a gimmick performance.

I really liked Bruce Willis as a more seasoned detective. Gugu Mbatha-Raw plays the woman who must be saved, and we all want her saved. Alec Baldwin twirls virtual mustaches as the villainous Moses character, Willem Dafoe is very good as a haunted character; he is wearing his beard from The Lighthouse, but happily not the Long John Silver accent.

Motherless Brooklyn was a labor of love for Norton, and he loves it too much to edit it. The story could be told better in a movie 30 minutes shorter, One nightclub scene in particular goes on for too, too long. If you have two-and-a-half hours on a cold winter’s night, you could do worse than to stream it.

HARRIET: story great, movie only okay


Cynthia Erivo in HARRIET. Photo courtesy of Focus Features.

I first watched the trailer for Harriet askance because the Harriet Tubman action figure I saw on-screen didn’t resemble the tiny, revered Tubman in the sepia photos. But that is because of my own skepticism of Hollywood history and my own woeful ignorance of the historic Tubman. The ancient lady in her photos and the historic Tubman are explained in this fine NYT piece Harriet Tubman Facts and Myths: How the Movie Tried to Get it Right. As Harriet’s director Kasi Lemmons says in this NYT article, “You don’t have an image of what she was like when she was actually doing this work in her late 20s, when she was this young superheroine, this completely badass woman.”

Harriet is good history. The problem is that Lemmons doesn’t trust us to appreciate Tubman’s heroism when we see it – a 100-mile solo escape from slavery, guiding 75 escaped slaves to freedom with the Underground Railroad, leading troops into battle to free 700 more in the Civil War, and becoming a thought leader in the abolitionist and suffragist movements. So we have this swelling music every time Tubman does something inspirational. The constant, obvious beatification is distracting.

Tubman is played with convincing intensity by Cynthia Erivo. Erivo was absolutely the best thing about the Steve McQueen film Widows; since Erivo’s character teamed with those played by Viola Davis, Michelle Rodriguez and Elizabeth Debicki, the fact that she stole the movie is impressive. Erivo is a Broadway musical actress/singer, and Harriet uses her singing talent as well.

If you’re not expecting great cinema, you’ll appreciate this important and compelling history. Harriet makes it clear why Tubman belongs on the twenty dollar bill.

PARASITE: social inequity – what’s really at stake

PARASITE

The masterpiece Parasite explores social inequity, with master filmmaker Bong Joo Ho taking us through a series of genres. Parasite opens as a hilarious comedy, then evolves halfway through into a suspense thriller and ends with a shocker and a moment of contemplative heartbreak. This is one of the decade’s best films.

The Kim family lives in a grubby basement apartment, so much on the margins of society that they cadge the neighbors’s wi-fi and even the municipal fumigation. They can’t live on the dad’s sporadic employment in low-end jobs, so the family is always on the hustle. It helps that the Kims, especially the college-age kids, are gifted scoundrels.

The Park family lives in an icon of modern architecture. The dad is a CEO with his own driver, and the mom and two kids are pampered by their live-in housekeeper. They have never had to hustle themselves, and they don’t recognize a hustle when they see it.

The Kim son falls into a job tutoring one of the Park kids. After a series of riotously funny cons, the Kim family positions itself to take advantage of the Parks. The Kims are soon living off the fatted calf, but they must contend with one uncomfortable fact – their newfound fortune is extremely fragile because it all comes at the whims of the rich.

PARASITE. Photo courtesy of Mill Valley Film Festival (MVFF) .

The biggest disconnect between the rich and the rest of us is the understanding of capitalism as a meritocracy – or not. Despite capitalist mythology, working hard and taking risks is often not rewarded with wealth. Conversely, just being wealthy is not an indicator of talent or accomplishment, however entitled the rich feel they are.

Mr. and Mrs. Kim are wily, but uneducated. The Kim kids are trapped by the Korean economy economy; they have no realistic pathway to social mobility, no matter how industrious they are. The kids’ college-educated peers are all under- or unemployed.

Mr. Park is successful in business, but he is a drive-by family man and thinks he can identify the working class by their smell. His wife is a neurotic adornment, his daughter is spoiled and his son is a mess.

Why does Bong shock us with some horror? The stakes of social inequity – impacting generations – are very high and as high as life and death. Bong is reminding us of those stakes after reeling us in with all the fun.

Along with comedy, thriller and horror, Bong even gives a couple minutes of the disaster genre. The Kim’s poor neighborhood is afflicted by a pestilence of biblical scale that would be unthinkable for any affluent community. Let’s just say that the poor live in crap.

Song Kang-Ho in PARASITE

Parasite is superbly acted. The poor family’s dad is played masterfully by Song Kang-Ho. It’s his kids who are directing the scam, but it’s the dad whose slow burn resentment finally explodes.

Bong Joo Ho (Memories of Murder, Mother, Snowpiercer and Okja) makes movies so original that it’s been said that he is his own genre. His Memories of Murder, also starring Song Kang-Ho, is, for my money, the very best serial killer movie. Snowpiercer and Okja, like Parasite, also take on the issues of class and corporate greed.

Martin Scorsese recently said that people watch cinema, as opposed to “worldwide audiovisual entertainment”, to be surprised. Indeed, to view the work of Bong Joo Ho is to be surprised every single time.

Bong Joo Ho himself says, “My goal is to have the audience captivated for two hours by subverting their expectations.” Captivation, check. Subversion of expectations, check.

This is a masterwork. Parasite won the Palme d’Or, the top prize at the Cannes Film Festival, and currently has a meteoric Metacritic score of 95. Parasite will win the Best Foreign Language Oscar and is arguably the best movie of 2019.

LORO: just eye candy

Kasia Smutniak and Toni Servillo in LORO

Loro is director Paolo Sorrentino’s take on the career end of the despicable Italian media mogul and former prime minister Silvio Berlusconi. The Berlusconi character has a different name, but there’s no mistake that it is the hair-dyed, ever-grinning Berlusconi.

The movie Loro is actually the combination of two television programs. In the first, we see Berlusconi’s corruption through the POV of another amoral grasper, Sergio (Ricardo Scarmacia). Sergio seeks his fortune by collecting a brigade of cocaine-fueled escorts to sexually entertain Berlusconi. In the second half, we follow Berlusconi himself as, out of power, he is unable to climb back into power, he loses his wife and he is sexually humiliated by a 20-year-old aspiring actress. Sorrentino gets his licks in by making Berlusconi, finally, pathetic.

Loro stars Sorrentino’s frequent collaborator Toni Servillo, who is able to play the Berlusconi character as a figure powerful to get all he desires…and then not.

I had high expectations of Loro because I loved Sorrentino’s The Great Beauty and Youth. Sorrentino is a master of the eye candy and those movies are especially beautiful, but also tell stories compelingly. Ultimately, Loro is much more interesting visually than it is thematically.

Loro, which got a screening at the San Francisco international Film Festival, has just concluded a wisp of a theatrical release in the Bay Area. It can be streamed from Amazon, iTunes, Vudu, YouTube and Google Play.

LIGHT FROM LIGHT: a haunted house movie that isn’t

Marin Ireland and Jim Gaffigan in LIGHT FROM LIGHT

Writer-director Paul Harrill’s indie gem Light from Light ingeniously embeds three portraits of personal awakening into what looks like a familiar haunted house movie.

Single mom Sheila (Marin Ireland) has been a paranormal investigator (a ghost hunter), but she isn’t sure that she even believes in ghosts; she had taken up this pursuit because her most recent ex was a true believer. A clergyman asks for her help with a widower that he is counseling; the man (Jim Gaffigan) has experienced some odd happenings and wonders if his dead wife is haunting the house. And so we think we’re off on a thrill ride of chills and jump scares…

Instead, the phenomena that Light from Light explores are down-to-earth: the impacts of absence and loneliness.

Scarred by one too many failed relationships, Sheila is closed down. She’s working a dead-end job behind a rental car counter, doing her best to raise her sensitive teen son and not doing much else; she has isolated herself in her routine. Her son mirrors his mom – a girl is sweet on him, but he’s afraid to have a relationship with her lest it bring him the heartbreak that his mom has experienced. The widower is both immersed in grief and mulling over something about his wife that complicates his feelings.

The plot is about looking for the ghost, but the movie is really about these three people and whether they can self-liberate from their social paralysis and engage with others.

Light from Light is centered around an astonishing performance by Marin Ireland (Hell or High Water, Sneaky Pete and Tony-nominated for reasons to be pretty). Elisabeth Moss is a producer, and she suggested Marin Ireland for the role of Sheila.

The well-known comedian Jim Gaffigan (who also had a serious supporting turn in Chappaquiddick) has impressive screen-acting chops. The grief of Gaffigan’s character does not look “dramatic”; it’s all the more powerful for being matter of fact. Harrill wrote the part with Jim Gaffigan in mind after listening to him on NPR’s Fresh Air, and learning that Gaffigan had almost lost his wife to cancer and understood facing this loss.

This is the second feature for Harrill. Besides successfully subverting a genre, he makes effective use of a quiet, restrained, spare soundtrack. Set and shot in Knoxville, Tennessee and the Great Smoky Mountains, Light from Light excels in bringing us into a very specific time and place.

I saw Light from Light at Cinema Club Silicon Valley, before its release, with a Q&A with Paul Harrill. Thanks to that screening, Light from Light begins a two-week Bay Area theatrical release tomorrow at San Jose’s 3Below. See it if you can.

THE LIGHTHOUSE: enough to drive a guy crazy

Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe in THE LIGHTHOUSE

In The Lighthouse, it’s the 1890s and Wake (Willem Dafoe) and Winslow (Robert Pattinson) are two lighthouse keepers isolated on a New England island. The operative word is “isolated”, because it’s a long time between relief and supply boats, so these guys only have themselves and the gulls for company for weeks on end.

Wake is in charge, which means that he can command Winslow to perform all the tasks. I get the whole chain of command thing, but Wake is a first class jerk, and he unnecessarily makes every moment of Winslow’s life insufferably hard and humiliating. On the surface, not much goes on in The Lighthouse. But a psychological typhoon is brewing, as Winslow’s misery and desperation compounds. The hardship and the annoyances are enough to drive many a person mad, and, as Winslow starts to decompensate, we start expecting something extreme to happen.

Director and co-writer Robert Eggers seems to be aiming at a trippy 21st century take on Gothic Horror, but he fails at basic storytelling. The problem with The Lighthouse is that we don’t really care about these two characters enough to endure the slog. Then, the bleak ending doesn’t justify sitting through the first 90 minutes of bleakness.

I am far more likely than most movie viewers to embrace a slow burn. Here, the “slow” is glacial, and the “burn” seems powered by the hot plate in a 1970s studio apartment.

Willem Dafoe channels Robert Newton from the 1950 Treasure Island to give us the full Long John Silver. It’s an, ahem, unrestrained performance by one of our best screen actors. Dafoe does have one marvelously entertaining dialogue when Wake tags Winslow with a curse from Neptune himself.

Pattinson is the lead here, and he does an excellent job going mad. I admit that I didn’t use to take Pattinson seriously, because of the material, when his career was launched in the Twilight series. But he proves here, as in The Lost City of Z, that he is the real deal.

Because The Lighthouse has an original and artsy look, it’s gotten extra points from many critics. But watching it is an ordeal, no matter how many hallucinatory mermaids there are. I was wondering whether I would go crazy before Pattinson’s Winslow.

ZOMBIELAND DOUBLE TAP: another raucous romp

Zoey Deutch and Jesse Eisenberg in ZOMBIELAND DOUBLE TAP

The raucous romp Zombieland Double Tap is a fun change of pace to the serious fare in theaters. To set the tone, it begins with the woman in the Columbia Pictures logo dispatching a couple of zombies. This is a worthy sequel to the riotously funny Zombieland, number one on my list of Zombie Movies for People Who Don’t Like Zombie Movies.

In the original Zombieland, our young heroes (Jesse Eisenberg as Columbus, Emma Stone as Wichita and Abigail Breslin as Little Rock – very early in their careers) band together to survive the Zombie Apocalypse with the master zombie killer Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson).  Tallahassee’s astonishing skills and unwholesome enthusiasm are very funny. 

In Zombieland Double Tap, the characters, like the actors, are all ten years older. The young folks have learned from their mentor and are now equally adept at slaughtering zombies. This time, there is less zombie splatter, replaced by plenty of funny new threads. The four are camped out in the deserted White House and then travel to Graceland.

A new character Madison (Zoey Deutch) shows up, and Deutch practically reinvents the Dumb Blonde. A bit where she thinks up the business plan of Uber may be her funniest bit, but Deutch’s performance by itself makes watching this movie worthwhile.

Little Rock is no longer a kid, and she yearns for the companionship of a guy her age. Of course, she finds exactly the wrong first boyfriend (Avan Jogla) in a survivor who is hippie poser (named Berkeley!); not satisfied to impress Little Rock by plagiarizing Bob Dylan’s Like a Rolling Stone, he even claims that he wrote Lynard Skynard’s Free Bird.

Luke Wilson and Thomas MIddleditch show up as clones of Tallahassee and Columbus. Eisenberg and Middleditch have a lot of fun with their similarly neurotic personae. Rosario Dawson is in this movie, too, and she’s a lot of fun.

In the comedic highlight of Zombieland, the group finds shelter in Bill Murray’s LA mansion where Bill Murray (playing himself) is surviving by impersonating a zombie.  If you stay through the closing credits of Zombieland Double Tap, you’ll be rewarded with a taste of Murray.

This a very funny movie. The Wife hates horror, and she enjoyed Zombieland Double Tap, too.