Rêve à vendre

I had long been interested in watching this one (and had even toyed with the idea of acquiring its BFI PAL VHS in the mid-1990s) but, having now caught up with the film, I cannot say that the end result fully lived up to expectations!

It is quite a unique effort, mind you, but very uneven in tone – a reflection of the many 'cooks' involved in the 'broth' since, despite the overall credit to Richter, many another avant-garde artist was responsible for the various dream sequences that basically comprise the narrative (Marcel Duchamp, Fernand Léger, Man Ray, etc.). This is also why I preceded its viewing with a number of shorts by all these exponents of experimental cinema and, for what it is worth, I opted to check the film out on the day of Richter's own birthday!

The concept is an intriguing, even noir-ish, one – accentuated by the initially down-on-his-luck protagonist and constant voice-over. The fantasies range from the romantic (a henpecked man braving a labyrinth for the sake of his idealized beloved recalls the work of Jean Cocteau) to the musical ('sung' by a mannequin and dreamt by a geeky girl liberated to femme fatale status by the hero's attentions), and from the prescient (the audience at an interactive movie theater imitate every move of the actors on-screen) to the insipid (a lazily derivative 'rotating shapes' display by Duchamp serving as the visions of a gangster type – who on earth but mathematicians dreams of such things anyway?!). The last hallucination, then, is reserved for the leading man himself – his assuming a blue countenance at this point presumably representing his own uniqueness (in view of the gift he is able to 'bestow' upon others).

As I said, this is more worth watching for its intentions than for what is ultimately achieved; the colour scheme, at least, makes it that more palatable to the adventurous movie-buff. Incidentally, we also have here one of the very earliest examples of a pre-credits sequence on celluloid.

I went on a long, hot walk around surprisingly dope Kansas City. Back at home base, I felt delirious, so I decided to return to Richter's Dreams That Money Can Buy.

It had been a while, but I can now say that you do NOT need the help of sun-drenched lunacy for this one. Perfect just as it is.

If there's any fabula, it's that bureaucracy sends people over the edge of mirrors, into bouquets of sterilized flowers resting in the dreams of others.

Really, it's all about the digesis: "Let memory of mortgages, loans and property sales // dissolve into the cries of nightingales!". Obviously you're watching this in part for image, but the VO and script shouldn't be overlooked. Alternating between a crisp, white sound, in the manner of 1950's instructional films, and other more slippery and sensuous words, voices and jazz numbers, sometimes there's singsong-y rhyme, often there are jabs at structure in favor of chaos ("Sign, sign every dotted line! What's the difference? You'll never belong to anything anyway.").

This is really a nice experience. Show it to hot friends and cool strangers.

Wow! For a film that was made in 1947, this was way ahead of it's time. 7 different surreal artists, including Duchamp; teamed up to create the dreams within the story. This is a rare film and if you can track down a copy, you won't be disappointed. The story is about a guy who starts a business selling people his dreams. People who need excitement come to him for a bizarre dream experience. Surreal images and at times crazy stream of conscious dialog follow. My favorite scene is later in the film, when the guy is walking up the ladder, and every time he takes a step, the step before disappears. Of course I wish the film would be remastered, since many of the scenes are faded. I'm glad to know that the British Film institute has it on video, I hope they digitally restore it and release it on DVD, or even better would be a Criterion release! 10/10

Hans Richter and some of his friends in the old time surreal avant-garde gang; Man Ray, Marcel Duchamp, John Cage, Max Ernst, decide to get together and direct a surprisingly accessible (for these guys this is Oceans 11), film about a man who sets up a business selling dreams to people, who cant' have any of there own. After all, as our narrator Joe, informs us, "If you can look inside yourself, other people shouldn't be any problem".

Assorted "characters" come into the Dream shop, a gangster, a repressed banker, an overzealous pamphleteer, a blind man, a bored housewife, etc, and all are given dreams, each one directed by a different surrealist; Ernst, Duchamp, Ray, etc. Which alternately, delight, offend, disturb, and annoy there patrons.

In that respect it's a little like an anthology film, with each dream, a story in the story, the best of which is a satire of conventional(1940's) relationships, staring two mannequins who fall in love and get married. It's a surprisingly charming and funny little feminist music video (I want the soundtrack, just for this sequence). Though the rest of the music is handled by experimental composer John Cage, who gives the film both a traditional comedic tone and one of ambiguous drones and general avant-garishness.

The narrative of the framing tale, that is the story of Joe, owner and dream weaver of the business, is also distinct in that, none of the characters mouths move, and when dialog does take place on screen it comes as voice over, usually with one characters monologues followed by the others...most of which is spoken in a kind of Beat style rhyming (this is also a decade before any of the big Beat writers Keroac, Ginsberg, etc, start publishing.). That though a bit silly at first, actually enriches the story, really quite beyond, any individual dream sequence.

If you like early avant-garde films or the artists involved, this is an absolute must see, but if your also just interested in early comic fantasy, stories about dreams, poetry, or just watching something visually different, that doesn't just dismiss narrative as a nuisance, it's worth the price of admission. Few films see the relationship of dream, cinema, and audience this clearly or distantly.

It's the feel good avant-garde comedy of the 40s! If only it would get released on DVD already...

A strange attempt to bring the work of surrealist artists to a wider public. The plot is than an average Joe (Jack Bittner) can conjure up dreams that will improve peoples lives. This gives an excuse to view sequences created by several artists, most of whom were living in the US to avoid World War II.

Of most interest for those wishing to seeing the various artist's work, such as Alexander Calder' Circus being animated. I saw the Museum of Modern Art Print and the colors were in poor shape - the blue was almost gone.