268 reviews
Juzo Itami's penultimate film Supermarket Woman has all the hallmarks of a movie intentionally trying to position itself for cult classic adoration from its quirky premise to the film's comic book-like aesthetic in terms of both its visuals as well as the comiclly clear-cut distinction of good-guys and bad-guys. Above all, Supermarket Woman feels like a film in which its visual motifs were created with the intention of selling real-world merchandise. I'd happily buy t-shirts with the logos of fictional supermarket rivals Honest Mart and Discount Demon.
The noble but failing Honest Mart is struggling against its absurdly evil rival Discount Demon, a supermarket run like a militaristic operation out of Imperial Japan (with their business meetings emitting strong Yakuza vibes). Discount Demon is the Chum Bucket to the Krusty Krab or Mondo Burger to Good Burger, thus it takes the ever-fabulous Nobuko Miyamoto as Hanako Inoue to use her womanly, housewife intuition to reinvigorate Honest Mart. Miyamoto's impeccable comic timing both physical and verbal has a real sense of contagious enthusiasm. Much of the sheer fun within Supermarket Woman comes from the screwball comedy-like antics of Hanako and her co-workers as they try to please customers and right various wrongs, from gathering hoards of shopping carts left in the parking lot to dealing with frustrated Karens on the verge of asking for the manager. Equally as memorable is Miyamoto's wardrobe of bright, contrasting colours. Even when she wears an informal blazer it is accompanied alongside tartan trousers and sneakers, in keeping with a character who never takes herself too seriously.
Just how accurate a reflection is Supermarket Woman of Japanese commerce in the post-bubble 1990s? It is unique to observe a wholly independent supermarket that doesn't trade under a franchise name (something which I've never even seen in my own country). This is emblematic of the world Supermarket Woman inhabits, one which presents Japanese supermarkets like the Wild West with the absence of any legal regulations or government oversight. Discount Demon is determined to eliminate the competition so they can raise prices, while both outlets engage in actions such as repacking food with a new expiry date, mixing meats and passing them off as more expensive cuts and even falsely advertising imported meat as being home-breed Japanese.
The exterior and interior of Honest Mart is a world of unbridled, Americana-inspired artifice with its frequent use of checkered patterns and bright colours (in particular the film's prominent use of pink and red) as well as a general warm and fuzzy atmosphere. To accompany this is the film's soundtrack to consumer capitalism - stereotypically, catchy department store music by composer Toshiyuki Honda. Can any lost media sleuths track down an isolated version of the score? As far as weirdly specific film accolades go, Supermarket Woman is the 2nd best Supermarket-themed film I've ever seen. The top spot goes to oddly enough, another Japanese film, Mikio Naruse's Yearning (1964). Recommend for a slightly more unorthodox double-feature experience.
The noble but failing Honest Mart is struggling against its absurdly evil rival Discount Demon, a supermarket run like a militaristic operation out of Imperial Japan (with their business meetings emitting strong Yakuza vibes). Discount Demon is the Chum Bucket to the Krusty Krab or Mondo Burger to Good Burger, thus it takes the ever-fabulous Nobuko Miyamoto as Hanako Inoue to use her womanly, housewife intuition to reinvigorate Honest Mart. Miyamoto's impeccable comic timing both physical and verbal has a real sense of contagious enthusiasm. Much of the sheer fun within Supermarket Woman comes from the screwball comedy-like antics of Hanako and her co-workers as they try to please customers and right various wrongs, from gathering hoards of shopping carts left in the parking lot to dealing with frustrated Karens on the verge of asking for the manager. Equally as memorable is Miyamoto's wardrobe of bright, contrasting colours. Even when she wears an informal blazer it is accompanied alongside tartan trousers and sneakers, in keeping with a character who never takes herself too seriously.
Just how accurate a reflection is Supermarket Woman of Japanese commerce in the post-bubble 1990s? It is unique to observe a wholly independent supermarket that doesn't trade under a franchise name (something which I've never even seen in my own country). This is emblematic of the world Supermarket Woman inhabits, one which presents Japanese supermarkets like the Wild West with the absence of any legal regulations or government oversight. Discount Demon is determined to eliminate the competition so they can raise prices, while both outlets engage in actions such as repacking food with a new expiry date, mixing meats and passing them off as more expensive cuts and even falsely advertising imported meat as being home-breed Japanese.
The exterior and interior of Honest Mart is a world of unbridled, Americana-inspired artifice with its frequent use of checkered patterns and bright colours (in particular the film's prominent use of pink and red) as well as a general warm and fuzzy atmosphere. To accompany this is the film's soundtrack to consumer capitalism - stereotypically, catchy department store music by composer Toshiyuki Honda. Can any lost media sleuths track down an isolated version of the score? As far as weirdly specific film accolades go, Supermarket Woman is the 2nd best Supermarket-themed film I've ever seen. The top spot goes to oddly enough, another Japanese film, Mikio Naruse's Yearning (1964). Recommend for a slightly more unorthodox double-feature experience.
Hit And Run (a direct translation from the film's Japanese title Hikinige) aka Moment Of Terror, has never been released via official means in any country (home media, streaming etc), yet I was able to get hold of an unofficial physical DVD copy which was in shockingly good quality (and in English subtitles) for such an obscure film, and what a film it is! Ah the joy (and in some parts frustration) of discovering a motion picture which knocks your socks off, yet you are the only person who knows about it.
Hit And Run is Mikio Naruse's foray into a Hitchcockian-style thriller and a film which shares a number of similarities with Akira Kurosawa's High And Low (1963), albeit a bit more schlocky (in line with the type of films Bette Davis or Joan Crawford spent the 1960's appearing in). After the unfaithful wife (Yoko Tsukasa) of a business mogul named Kakinuma (Etaro Ozawa) accidentally kills the child of single mother Kuniko (Hideko Takamine) in a hit-and-run accident, they conspire in order to save the bottom line of the company (as well as the wife covering her own back) by having their lowly chauffeur (Yutaka Sada) be the fall guy. However once Kuniko hears word of this conspiracy, she plots her revenge by posing as a maid in the house of the killer. Hit And Run is the final of the 14 film collaboration from Naruse and Hideko Takamine, as the vigilante mother whose love is taken too far. Takamine delivers one intense, angry and histrionic performance of maternal anguish, completely losing her mind come the film's conclusion in which she becomes a nervous scenery-chewing wreck. However, the film's more subtle moments do showcase Takamine's impeccable ability to convey so much without the aid of dialogue.
Comparisons to Kurosawa's High And Low quickly become evident in Hit And Run, as the business mogul of Yamano Motors Kakinuma attempts to justify his reasoning to cover up the incident in order to save the company's bottom line as well as their new product (which is ironically a high-speed motorcycle), and the calm manner in which he does so is fascinating in how it portrays the banality of evil. This is reminiscent of how Toshiro Mifune's character in High And Low attempts to do the same by justifying not paying a ransom in order to save the life of someone else's child in order to save his company. Likewise, both films showcase the stark differences between the upper and the lower classes, with both films featuring families living in a property up in the hills overlooking the plebs. Additionally, the chauffeur who takes the fall is indeed played by the same actor who portrayed the unfortunate chauffeur in High And Low, Yutaka Sada. There are no moral actors present in the Hit And Run. Kuniko's revenge goes beyond "an eye for an eye" for "a child for a child" as she attempts to murder the wife's son but at least struggles to fully go through with her intentions. The unnamed wife however (whom has a child of her own at the same age of the one she killed) is a highly reprehensible character. I never derive any sympathy for her, even when she continues to be plagued by bad dreams of the incident. Although it is never stated, it wouldn't be unlikely that the husband and wife are in an arranged marriage due to their age difference and lack of commitment.
One scene from Hit And Run involves a flashback to how Kuniko meet her late husband, a Japanese soldier who is pushed into a ditch by prostitutes as they mock him for losing the war, to which he is retrieved by Kuniko as a more sympathetic prostitute followed by a subsequent fast forward to the birth of their son. This flashback however appears to be from another movie starring Hideko Takamine as evidenced by the fact that she appears significantly younger alongside the drastic change in film grain and tone. The inclusion of this flashback is the one criticism I would have with the Hit And Run as its inclusion feels very out of place as this other film is more saccharine in tone nor does it add anything to the larger narrative. Likewise, it also throws into disarray as to when the film is actually set as the flashback is clearly set in the immediate aftermath of the war yet the film's setting is clearly contemporary for the mid-1960s. That said, would any cinema sleuths be able to identify this film within the film?
Regardless, any other criticism aimed at the very tightly plotted and brisk Hit and Run is largely inconsequential as it doesn't negatively affect the film based on the strength of its material. Some suspension of disbelief is required that the family at no point would have seen an image of Kuniko (even with her brother doing all the negotiating on her behalf, she is still seen in court). Likewise, what happened to the original maid from whom Kuniko stole the identity from? There is also a piece of set-up in which the housekeeper tells Kunkio "the boiler is dangerous, let me handle that", however, this never leads to any payoff. Throughout the film, there is also the recurring use of heightened lighting when portraying Kuniko's murder fantasies. These are cheesy and cliché but do add to the film's enjoyable schlock value, while the use of a rollercoaster to create a sense of unease is something that would be repeated time and again for years to come (Fatal Attraction, False Face, the aptly titled Rollercoaster).
At its core Hit And Run is about the dangers of automobiles and those who drive them (not exactly news to me having lived in Northern Ireland my whole life with our incredibly graphic road safety adverts). There is however a historical context for this as Takashi Oguchi of The University of Tokyo states:
"Japan has experienced an enormous increase of traffic accidents as a result of the country's rapid economic growth from the late 1950s to the year 1970. Observers in the early 1960s called the proliferation of traffic accidents the "Traffic War" as the annual traffic-accident fatalities exceeded the average annual fatalities during the First Sino-Japanese war..."
There are several moments in Hit And Run featuring some very impressive two-dimensional shots of automobiles driving by so fast in the street as the drivers give no heed to any children attempting to cross (even as a child stands alone in the middle of the road) while the film concludes on a shot featuring a scoreboard detailing the injuries and deaths from road accidents in a local area to hammer the point home. Then there is the additional metaphorical irony that the company featured in the film itself is an automobile manufacturer that is currently testing high-speed motorcycles while using the intentionally provocative slogan "gamble your life on the moment" (and even laughing that the police object to it). The film ultimately goes as far as it can with this theme without crossing the line into being preachy or overbearing. There is something all the more unsettling at the sight of a body outline when it's that of a child. Women drivers, amirite?
Hit And Run is Mikio Naruse's foray into a Hitchcockian-style thriller and a film which shares a number of similarities with Akira Kurosawa's High And Low (1963), albeit a bit more schlocky (in line with the type of films Bette Davis or Joan Crawford spent the 1960's appearing in). After the unfaithful wife (Yoko Tsukasa) of a business mogul named Kakinuma (Etaro Ozawa) accidentally kills the child of single mother Kuniko (Hideko Takamine) in a hit-and-run accident, they conspire in order to save the bottom line of the company (as well as the wife covering her own back) by having their lowly chauffeur (Yutaka Sada) be the fall guy. However once Kuniko hears word of this conspiracy, she plots her revenge by posing as a maid in the house of the killer. Hit And Run is the final of the 14 film collaboration from Naruse and Hideko Takamine, as the vigilante mother whose love is taken too far. Takamine delivers one intense, angry and histrionic performance of maternal anguish, completely losing her mind come the film's conclusion in which she becomes a nervous scenery-chewing wreck. However, the film's more subtle moments do showcase Takamine's impeccable ability to convey so much without the aid of dialogue.
Comparisons to Kurosawa's High And Low quickly become evident in Hit And Run, as the business mogul of Yamano Motors Kakinuma attempts to justify his reasoning to cover up the incident in order to save the company's bottom line as well as their new product (which is ironically a high-speed motorcycle), and the calm manner in which he does so is fascinating in how it portrays the banality of evil. This is reminiscent of how Toshiro Mifune's character in High And Low attempts to do the same by justifying not paying a ransom in order to save the life of someone else's child in order to save his company. Likewise, both films showcase the stark differences between the upper and the lower classes, with both films featuring families living in a property up in the hills overlooking the plebs. Additionally, the chauffeur who takes the fall is indeed played by the same actor who portrayed the unfortunate chauffeur in High And Low, Yutaka Sada. There are no moral actors present in the Hit And Run. Kuniko's revenge goes beyond "an eye for an eye" for "a child for a child" as she attempts to murder the wife's son but at least struggles to fully go through with her intentions. The unnamed wife however (whom has a child of her own at the same age of the one she killed) is a highly reprehensible character. I never derive any sympathy for her, even when she continues to be plagued by bad dreams of the incident. Although it is never stated, it wouldn't be unlikely that the husband and wife are in an arranged marriage due to their age difference and lack of commitment.
One scene from Hit And Run involves a flashback to how Kuniko meet her late husband, a Japanese soldier who is pushed into a ditch by prostitutes as they mock him for losing the war, to which he is retrieved by Kuniko as a more sympathetic prostitute followed by a subsequent fast forward to the birth of their son. This flashback however appears to be from another movie starring Hideko Takamine as evidenced by the fact that she appears significantly younger alongside the drastic change in film grain and tone. The inclusion of this flashback is the one criticism I would have with the Hit And Run as its inclusion feels very out of place as this other film is more saccharine in tone nor does it add anything to the larger narrative. Likewise, it also throws into disarray as to when the film is actually set as the flashback is clearly set in the immediate aftermath of the war yet the film's setting is clearly contemporary for the mid-1960s. That said, would any cinema sleuths be able to identify this film within the film?
Regardless, any other criticism aimed at the very tightly plotted and brisk Hit and Run is largely inconsequential as it doesn't negatively affect the film based on the strength of its material. Some suspension of disbelief is required that the family at no point would have seen an image of Kuniko (even with her brother doing all the negotiating on her behalf, she is still seen in court). Likewise, what happened to the original maid from whom Kuniko stole the identity from? There is also a piece of set-up in which the housekeeper tells Kunkio "the boiler is dangerous, let me handle that", however, this never leads to any payoff. Throughout the film, there is also the recurring use of heightened lighting when portraying Kuniko's murder fantasies. These are cheesy and cliché but do add to the film's enjoyable schlock value, while the use of a rollercoaster to create a sense of unease is something that would be repeated time and again for years to come (Fatal Attraction, False Face, the aptly titled Rollercoaster).
At its core Hit And Run is about the dangers of automobiles and those who drive them (not exactly news to me having lived in Northern Ireland my whole life with our incredibly graphic road safety adverts). There is however a historical context for this as Takashi Oguchi of The University of Tokyo states:
"Japan has experienced an enormous increase of traffic accidents as a result of the country's rapid economic growth from the late 1950s to the year 1970. Observers in the early 1960s called the proliferation of traffic accidents the "Traffic War" as the annual traffic-accident fatalities exceeded the average annual fatalities during the First Sino-Japanese war..."
There are several moments in Hit And Run featuring some very impressive two-dimensional shots of automobiles driving by so fast in the street as the drivers give no heed to any children attempting to cross (even as a child stands alone in the middle of the road) while the film concludes on a shot featuring a scoreboard detailing the injuries and deaths from road accidents in a local area to hammer the point home. Then there is the additional metaphorical irony that the company featured in the film itself is an automobile manufacturer that is currently testing high-speed motorcycles while using the intentionally provocative slogan "gamble your life on the moment" (and even laughing that the police object to it). The film ultimately goes as far as it can with this theme without crossing the line into being preachy or overbearing. There is something all the more unsettling at the sight of a body outline when it's that of a child. Women drivers, amirite?
By all indications, Gigi should be a musical masterpiece, the last hurrah of Metro Goldwyn Mayer's Freed Unit and yet, it took me several viewing attempts to actually sit through Gigi in its entirety, extracting as much appreciation as I can from what the film has to offer. While there are aspects of this musical vacation I enjoy, there is a synergy derived from one of the film's songs which sums up this disappointing production, the ironically titled It's A Bore.
So how did a major Hollywood movie about a girl being trained to become a prostitute get made in 1958? The film is full of gags about the French stereotype of impropriety however the film doesn't outright state that Gilberte "Gigi" (Leslie Caron) is being trained to become a courtesan and a less in-tune viewer looking at the film from an anglo-centric perspective as opposed to a continental one may just think she is receiving lessons in etiquette. One of the film's more successful elements is its (often dark) Ernst Lubitsch-style comedy from casual conversation on Laine d'Exelman's (Eva Gabor) failed suicide attempts to Gigi's mentally ill, off-screen mother's out-of-tune singing. The other aspect of the film tying it to Lubitsch is the casting of the ever charming epitome of Frenchness, Lubitsch pre-code regular Maurice Chevalier. However, when it comes to the film's two leads, Leslie Caron and Louis Jordan as Gigi's eventual love interest Gaston Lachaille, I'm not seeing many sparks. They make for a decent pairing but I'm never left thinking these two were made for each other nor am I dying to see them end up together. This romance fails to create any real conflict in the story nor does Gaston's boredom with everyday life or Gigi's disdain for her training and the Parisian obsession with love. Gigi's age is never stated however Caron was 26 at the time of filming yet she looks like a girl in her teens and like Ginger Rogers in The Major and The Minor, it is an impressive transition (in earlier films she looked older).
Ah Paris, the preferred setting of every romantic comedy made in the '50s and '60s. Gigi does deliver the goods with a slice of turn-of-the-century nostalgia (if only the characters knew they would have two world wars ahead of them, you cheese-eating surrender monkeys). However, this world is captured using Metrocolor which was never as visually eye-popping as Technicolor (nor was any colour process post-Technicolor). Compare Gigi with earlier Vincente Minnelli-directed musicals such as Meet Me In St Louis or An American In Paris and there is a clear downgrade in aesthetic beauty. Despite this (as well as some less than stellar rear projection during It's a Bore number) Minnelli was one of the best directors when it came to the ability to compose shots (or mise-en-scene to use a pretentious French term) that look like paintings. Gigi does contain some stunning frames from Gaston's silhouette at the fountain to any of the shots within the Grandmother's apartment in which the bright red background beautifully contrasts Gigi's blue dress. The real-world locations also give the picture a big boast from the Ice Palace skating rink (the former Palais des Glaces) to the interior of Gaston's home which was filmed inside an actual museum (Musee Jacquemart-Andre).
The lush orchestrations of the MGM Studio Orchestra do deliver the goods however none of the songs has me rushing out to listen to the film's soundtrack (while Thank Heaven For Little Girls doesn't help matters with its unintentionally creepy lyrics). Gigi is an all singing but no dancing affair; there is no hoofer action and the cast sings while walking, riding or just sitting down (The Night They Invented Champagne being the only number with a brief stint of dancing). On top of that, Gigi also lacks any grand finale like the ballet in An American In Paris. Come the conclusion I was left with the reaction of "that's it?". What a legacy the MGM musicals left behind, it's just a shame they went out not with a bang but with a whimper.
So how did a major Hollywood movie about a girl being trained to become a prostitute get made in 1958? The film is full of gags about the French stereotype of impropriety however the film doesn't outright state that Gilberte "Gigi" (Leslie Caron) is being trained to become a courtesan and a less in-tune viewer looking at the film from an anglo-centric perspective as opposed to a continental one may just think she is receiving lessons in etiquette. One of the film's more successful elements is its (often dark) Ernst Lubitsch-style comedy from casual conversation on Laine d'Exelman's (Eva Gabor) failed suicide attempts to Gigi's mentally ill, off-screen mother's out-of-tune singing. The other aspect of the film tying it to Lubitsch is the casting of the ever charming epitome of Frenchness, Lubitsch pre-code regular Maurice Chevalier. However, when it comes to the film's two leads, Leslie Caron and Louis Jordan as Gigi's eventual love interest Gaston Lachaille, I'm not seeing many sparks. They make for a decent pairing but I'm never left thinking these two were made for each other nor am I dying to see them end up together. This romance fails to create any real conflict in the story nor does Gaston's boredom with everyday life or Gigi's disdain for her training and the Parisian obsession with love. Gigi's age is never stated however Caron was 26 at the time of filming yet she looks like a girl in her teens and like Ginger Rogers in The Major and The Minor, it is an impressive transition (in earlier films she looked older).
Ah Paris, the preferred setting of every romantic comedy made in the '50s and '60s. Gigi does deliver the goods with a slice of turn-of-the-century nostalgia (if only the characters knew they would have two world wars ahead of them, you cheese-eating surrender monkeys). However, this world is captured using Metrocolor which was never as visually eye-popping as Technicolor (nor was any colour process post-Technicolor). Compare Gigi with earlier Vincente Minnelli-directed musicals such as Meet Me In St Louis or An American In Paris and there is a clear downgrade in aesthetic beauty. Despite this (as well as some less than stellar rear projection during It's a Bore number) Minnelli was one of the best directors when it came to the ability to compose shots (or mise-en-scene to use a pretentious French term) that look like paintings. Gigi does contain some stunning frames from Gaston's silhouette at the fountain to any of the shots within the Grandmother's apartment in which the bright red background beautifully contrasts Gigi's blue dress. The real-world locations also give the picture a big boast from the Ice Palace skating rink (the former Palais des Glaces) to the interior of Gaston's home which was filmed inside an actual museum (Musee Jacquemart-Andre).
The lush orchestrations of the MGM Studio Orchestra do deliver the goods however none of the songs has me rushing out to listen to the film's soundtrack (while Thank Heaven For Little Girls doesn't help matters with its unintentionally creepy lyrics). Gigi is an all singing but no dancing affair; there is no hoofer action and the cast sings while walking, riding or just sitting down (The Night They Invented Champagne being the only number with a brief stint of dancing). On top of that, Gigi also lacks any grand finale like the ballet in An American In Paris. Come the conclusion I was left with the reaction of "that's it?". What a legacy the MGM musicals left behind, it's just a shame they went out not with a bang but with a whimper.
Much of the beauty of Buster Keaton's films comes from their simplicity. Jimmie Shannon (Keaton) learns he will inherit 7 million dollars (105 million in 2019) providing he is married by the evening of his 27th birthday. Jimmie is not yet married and it just so turns out, his 27th birthday is today (the only question I would pose about the premise is how they define "by the evening" as being 7 o'clock but I digress). Seven Chances is split into two distinct sections, the preamble and then the action-orientated second half. The picture is only 56 minutes long and the pacing is just about perfect in this Metro-Goldwyn Production (just before the Mayer was thrown in). Seven Chances is one of three Keaton features which sees him play a rich nitwit, similar to the characters he would play in The Navigator and Battling Butler. With the film's theme of Money vs. Love, the picture goes to the effort of getting the audience's sympathy and making the protagonist less of a heal. The endearing opening prologue establishes that Jimmie loves his girlfriend Mary (Ruth Dwyer) but is too tongue-tied and shy to confess his feelings towards her. After Jimmie bungles a proposal to Mary with a tactless remark, he refuses to marry anyone else and has to be persuaded by his business partner to marry another woman. At one point, he even refuses to marry his gal because he wants to spare her from what he believes is the failure and disgrace that awaits him. Likewise, the film also establishes that Jimmie's brokerage firm is in trouble after being tricked into a shady deal and thus himself and his partner face ruin and possibly prison, justifying his need for the money. If the main character's motivation was that of pure greed then the film simply wouldn't work.
The first half of Seven Chances involves Keaton making many socially awkward marriage proposals, first with a failed attempt to Mary and then to a series of women at a country club (his seven chances). Possibly due to its origins as a stage play, Seven Chances has a higher ratio of jokes which have a greater degree of input from other cast members or don't involve Keaton at all, with T. Roy Barnes and Snitz Edwards receiving many comic highlights. However, the film's best, unsung cast member would have to be the Anna May Wong lookalike of the hat check girl who displays great underplayed comic timing with Keaton (according to the article Married In Haste by Imogen Sara Smith, the uncredited actress is named Rosalind Byrne). Seven Chances also includes an early screen appearance from future screwball dame Jean Arthur as the secretary Miss Smith (or so her name tag suggests as she later shows Jimmie her wedding ring). It may be a silent film but she still conveys that wisecracking attitude and laidback persona with her body language and that expressive face (often seen reading a book while she is on the job).
As Jimmie becomes increasingly desperate to find a bride he runs up towards a woman only to see that she is black. Now keep in mind that miscegenation was illegal in California until 1948. Is Jimmie showing repulsion over her race or disappointment that he legally cannot marry her? The gag could be interpreted as a jab at such laws however at least one black woman does come to the church later on to marry him. Subsequently, Jimmie approaches another woman only to stop pursuing her upon discovering she is Jewish after she holds up a newspaper in Yiddish. Many reviewers mistake the newspaper to be printed in Hebrew which was not a widely spoken language among Jews at the time whereas Yiddish was (several newspapers in this language did exist in the US at the time and I'm curious as to what the text on the paper translates to). It's not clear if the girl even speaks English as when Jimmie speaks to her she looks confused and just shrugs her shoulders. Does Jimmie avoid marrying her due to language barriers, the issues derived from marrying a Jewish woman or just anti-Semitism on his part (to derive some humour from shock value)? Likewise, another woman Jimmie encounters gives him a quick rejection to which he informs his partners immediately afterwards, "Wrong party" - make of that what you will. The only joke in the film in which context is required for a modern viewer is that in which Jimmie walks into a theatre featuring what appears to be a female performer, only for him to walk out seconds later in a ruffled-up state upon discovering the performer in question is Julian Eltinge, a cross-dressing performer of the time. I will say it is the weakest gag in the film as it's not particularly clever.
The two-strip Technicolor footage from the film's opening prologue hasn't survived well and has a very washed-out look however the remainder of the film from the 4K restoration comes in a lovely sepia-tone print. As far as Keaton's technical wizardry, the automobile transitions are a unique experiment as Jimmie hops into a car and the shot fades to a different location with the car and Keaton remaining in the same screen position. What's particularly impressive about these transitions are the spokes on the wheels which remain in the exact same position in both shots - blink and you miss it attention to detail. Seven Chances also includes many shots of Keaton's early pioneering of deep focus cinematography such as the interior shots of the church with a sleeping Jimmie on the front bench as scores of perspective brides make their way in via the background and all in clear focus. Speaking off...
The second half of Seven Chances is comprised of the set-up and execution of a colossal chase sequence. After failing to find a bride, Jimmie and co print an advertisement in the evening newspaper informing whatever lucky woman shows up at the Broad Street Church at 5 pm will become the bride-to-be for the forthcoming millionaire. Come 5 pm and the church has been beset with hundreds of prospective brides to which the church's clergyman appears and announces he believes the whole thing to be a practical joke. Infuriated, the brides chase after Jimmie who subsequently discovers Mary wants to marry him after all. This chase involves the most extras employed in a Keaton film, outdoing his 1922 shorts Cops which acts as a precursor to Seven Chances. The women in their makeshift bridal outfits destroy everything in their path like a stampeding herd of elephants in their pursuit of Jimmie. Keaton shot many of his films using locales in Los Angeles and Seven Chances is another great example of how he was able to use the city as his playground. From the trolleys, automobiles, open fields and orchards; it's a wonderful showcase of vintage west-coast Americana. The sequence keeps upping the ante with every new obstacle from football players, beehives and duck hunters with much of the carnage reminiscent of what Peter Bogdanovich would execute in his screwball comedy homage What's Up Doc?. The manner in which Keaton moves his legs as he's running as fast as he can is like a character in a Hanna-Barbara animation and his stunt work really makes you say "is he really doing that?". At one point he even runs into a barbed wire fence which he subsequently tries to untangle himself from - it looks painful. The film does feature some same shot edits on several of the stunts but it doesn't ruin one's state of disbelief. The chase culminates in one of the most surreal of Keaton moments as he gets Indiana Jones'd by hoards of falling boulders. In reality, the rocks were made out of papier-mâché however I do find the physics of the boulders believable, you can feel the weight of them as they roll and bounce around. It appears that Keaton does engage in The Prometheus School Of Running Away From Things as at several moments he could have just run to the left or right to avoid the boulders, but the scene is so entertaining I can suspend my disbelief. Buster Keaton was truly beyond us mere mortals.
The first half of Seven Chances involves Keaton making many socially awkward marriage proposals, first with a failed attempt to Mary and then to a series of women at a country club (his seven chances). Possibly due to its origins as a stage play, Seven Chances has a higher ratio of jokes which have a greater degree of input from other cast members or don't involve Keaton at all, with T. Roy Barnes and Snitz Edwards receiving many comic highlights. However, the film's best, unsung cast member would have to be the Anna May Wong lookalike of the hat check girl who displays great underplayed comic timing with Keaton (according to the article Married In Haste by Imogen Sara Smith, the uncredited actress is named Rosalind Byrne). Seven Chances also includes an early screen appearance from future screwball dame Jean Arthur as the secretary Miss Smith (or so her name tag suggests as she later shows Jimmie her wedding ring). It may be a silent film but she still conveys that wisecracking attitude and laidback persona with her body language and that expressive face (often seen reading a book while she is on the job).
As Jimmie becomes increasingly desperate to find a bride he runs up towards a woman only to see that she is black. Now keep in mind that miscegenation was illegal in California until 1948. Is Jimmie showing repulsion over her race or disappointment that he legally cannot marry her? The gag could be interpreted as a jab at such laws however at least one black woman does come to the church later on to marry him. Subsequently, Jimmie approaches another woman only to stop pursuing her upon discovering she is Jewish after she holds up a newspaper in Yiddish. Many reviewers mistake the newspaper to be printed in Hebrew which was not a widely spoken language among Jews at the time whereas Yiddish was (several newspapers in this language did exist in the US at the time and I'm curious as to what the text on the paper translates to). It's not clear if the girl even speaks English as when Jimmie speaks to her she looks confused and just shrugs her shoulders. Does Jimmie avoid marrying her due to language barriers, the issues derived from marrying a Jewish woman or just anti-Semitism on his part (to derive some humour from shock value)? Likewise, another woman Jimmie encounters gives him a quick rejection to which he informs his partners immediately afterwards, "Wrong party" - make of that what you will. The only joke in the film in which context is required for a modern viewer is that in which Jimmie walks into a theatre featuring what appears to be a female performer, only for him to walk out seconds later in a ruffled-up state upon discovering the performer in question is Julian Eltinge, a cross-dressing performer of the time. I will say it is the weakest gag in the film as it's not particularly clever.
The two-strip Technicolor footage from the film's opening prologue hasn't survived well and has a very washed-out look however the remainder of the film from the 4K restoration comes in a lovely sepia-tone print. As far as Keaton's technical wizardry, the automobile transitions are a unique experiment as Jimmie hops into a car and the shot fades to a different location with the car and Keaton remaining in the same screen position. What's particularly impressive about these transitions are the spokes on the wheels which remain in the exact same position in both shots - blink and you miss it attention to detail. Seven Chances also includes many shots of Keaton's early pioneering of deep focus cinematography such as the interior shots of the church with a sleeping Jimmie on the front bench as scores of perspective brides make their way in via the background and all in clear focus. Speaking off...
The second half of Seven Chances is comprised of the set-up and execution of a colossal chase sequence. After failing to find a bride, Jimmie and co print an advertisement in the evening newspaper informing whatever lucky woman shows up at the Broad Street Church at 5 pm will become the bride-to-be for the forthcoming millionaire. Come 5 pm and the church has been beset with hundreds of prospective brides to which the church's clergyman appears and announces he believes the whole thing to be a practical joke. Infuriated, the brides chase after Jimmie who subsequently discovers Mary wants to marry him after all. This chase involves the most extras employed in a Keaton film, outdoing his 1922 shorts Cops which acts as a precursor to Seven Chances. The women in their makeshift bridal outfits destroy everything in their path like a stampeding herd of elephants in their pursuit of Jimmie. Keaton shot many of his films using locales in Los Angeles and Seven Chances is another great example of how he was able to use the city as his playground. From the trolleys, automobiles, open fields and orchards; it's a wonderful showcase of vintage west-coast Americana. The sequence keeps upping the ante with every new obstacle from football players, beehives and duck hunters with much of the carnage reminiscent of what Peter Bogdanovich would execute in his screwball comedy homage What's Up Doc?. The manner in which Keaton moves his legs as he's running as fast as he can is like a character in a Hanna-Barbara animation and his stunt work really makes you say "is he really doing that?". At one point he even runs into a barbed wire fence which he subsequently tries to untangle himself from - it looks painful. The film does feature some same shot edits on several of the stunts but it doesn't ruin one's state of disbelief. The chase culminates in one of the most surreal of Keaton moments as he gets Indiana Jones'd by hoards of falling boulders. In reality, the rocks were made out of papier-mâché however I do find the physics of the boulders believable, you can feel the weight of them as they roll and bounce around. It appears that Keaton does engage in The Prometheus School Of Running Away From Things as at several moments he could have just run to the left or right to avoid the boulders, but the scene is so entertaining I can suspend my disbelief. Buster Keaton was truly beyond us mere mortals.
Alain Delon is Le Samouraï - hitman Jef Costello - cold yet elegant and graceful. The ever badass Delon could be identified by a silhouette of his figure. While he has those Humphrey Bogart vibes with his grey trench coat and fedora, he possesses a demeanour that's strictly his - this is a man who knows how to wear clothes. Moreover, there is an ethereal beauty to Delon which straddles that fine line between masculine and feminine beauty with a face that conveys so much without the uttering of a single word.
Jean-Pierre Meville's Le Samouraï is a master class in how to make a film with long stretches featuring no dialogue with little-to-no music. When music is used, however, the haunting score by François de Roubaix with its use of hammond organs mixed in with some sections of mellow jazz is the perfect match for the grey, rainy streets of Paris (this is the kind of music you need to play when walking down an empty city street in the early hours of the morning). There is a real hypnotic quality to watching Alain Delon making his way through this urban jungle. The Paris featured in Le Samouraï is not the Paris as would be portrayed in an American film in which the Eiffel Tower and Arc de Triomphe is included in the background of every shot. Rather this is a Paris of grimy, urban locales - a real-time capsule of the city circa 1967. The locales and interiors featured in Le Samouraï make it a film that oozes class. I've never seen a classier looking nightclub than that featured in the film with its silver and glass décor while even the interior of the cold and sterile police station has an art deco appearance to it.
I've read many of my fellow film reviews heavily critique Jef's decision making in his criminal activity as a major dent in the believability of Le Samouraï. When carrying out his hit, Jef enters Martey's nightclub wearing a distinct outfit, he returns to the scene of the crime the following night (despite his arrest from the previous night) and even disposes a set of blood-soaked bandages on the ground outside his apartment, knowing that the police are surveilling him. Yet, such clumsy actions strike me as being a sign of Jef's overconfidence rather than a mark of poor writing.
Le Samouraï can rank as one of the best police-procedural films. It makes for fascinating viewing to watch the techniques deployed by the police for identifying and questioning suspects, as well as their methods for tracking Jef through the Paris subways with a cat & mouse chase in a pre-internet, pre-mobile phone, pre-CCTV world. Le Samouraï also shows how the French citizenry is required to carry identity papers, an anathema to viewers in the anglosphere (the requirement to carry identity papers is a holdover from Roman law, unlike English common law where no such requirement exists). Within the film there are no Miranda rights as seen in American films but more worryingly, the police stalk Jef and put him under 24/7 surveillance, break into his apartment to install a bug as well as breaking into the apartment of his girlfriend and attempting to coerce her (also take note of how the commissioner turns a picture of a baby on his desk away from sight after questioning a suspect). There are however objections raised by suspects throughout the film when the police begin asking questions about their personal lives. If Le Samouraï is conveying a negative portrayal of the police, it may to conveyed most harshly but subtly with a blink and you miss it moment with a cut ? Minutes into the film in which a crime boss walks from right to left and then cuts to the police inspector continuing to walk in the same direction in perfect motion. Both bodies have the same aim of wanting to catch Costello but is the film also trying to say they both are as morally and ethically bankrupt?
Throughout Le Samouraï as Jef returns to his apartment, the sound of a caged chirping bird plays repeatedly without the aid of any music. As would be heard the proceeding year in Once Upon A Time In The West, the use of a recurring sound is shown to be as memorable and effective as a great score (I can also attain that every time I have watched Le Samouraï, the chirping bird has garnered the attention of my cat). The bird even serves the plot as Jef shares an almost telepathic relationship with the avian, as when Jef has returned to the apartment to find the bird traumatized and shedding feathers, he starts exploring his apartment only to find he has been bugged.
Le Samouraï opens with a quotation from the book Bushido: The Soul of Japan - "There is no solitude greater than a samurai's, unless perhaps it is that of a tiger in the jungle." However, this quote is entirely a creation of the film and not taken from said book. How much of actual samurai mythology is present in Le Samouraï or is the film just trying to look a bit cooler with a westernized interpretation of what a samurai is? Regardless, the film earns its merits in so many other regards I can easily look past such a thing.
Jean-Pierre Meville's Le Samouraï is a master class in how to make a film with long stretches featuring no dialogue with little-to-no music. When music is used, however, the haunting score by François de Roubaix with its use of hammond organs mixed in with some sections of mellow jazz is the perfect match for the grey, rainy streets of Paris (this is the kind of music you need to play when walking down an empty city street in the early hours of the morning). There is a real hypnotic quality to watching Alain Delon making his way through this urban jungle. The Paris featured in Le Samouraï is not the Paris as would be portrayed in an American film in which the Eiffel Tower and Arc de Triomphe is included in the background of every shot. Rather this is a Paris of grimy, urban locales - a real-time capsule of the city circa 1967. The locales and interiors featured in Le Samouraï make it a film that oozes class. I've never seen a classier looking nightclub than that featured in the film with its silver and glass décor while even the interior of the cold and sterile police station has an art deco appearance to it.
I've read many of my fellow film reviews heavily critique Jef's decision making in his criminal activity as a major dent in the believability of Le Samouraï. When carrying out his hit, Jef enters Martey's nightclub wearing a distinct outfit, he returns to the scene of the crime the following night (despite his arrest from the previous night) and even disposes a set of blood-soaked bandages on the ground outside his apartment, knowing that the police are surveilling him. Yet, such clumsy actions strike me as being a sign of Jef's overconfidence rather than a mark of poor writing.
Le Samouraï can rank as one of the best police-procedural films. It makes for fascinating viewing to watch the techniques deployed by the police for identifying and questioning suspects, as well as their methods for tracking Jef through the Paris subways with a cat & mouse chase in a pre-internet, pre-mobile phone, pre-CCTV world. Le Samouraï also shows how the French citizenry is required to carry identity papers, an anathema to viewers in the anglosphere (the requirement to carry identity papers is a holdover from Roman law, unlike English common law where no such requirement exists). Within the film there are no Miranda rights as seen in American films but more worryingly, the police stalk Jef and put him under 24/7 surveillance, break into his apartment to install a bug as well as breaking into the apartment of his girlfriend and attempting to coerce her (also take note of how the commissioner turns a picture of a baby on his desk away from sight after questioning a suspect). There are however objections raised by suspects throughout the film when the police begin asking questions about their personal lives. If Le Samouraï is conveying a negative portrayal of the police, it may to conveyed most harshly but subtly with a blink and you miss it moment with a cut ? Minutes into the film in which a crime boss walks from right to left and then cuts to the police inspector continuing to walk in the same direction in perfect motion. Both bodies have the same aim of wanting to catch Costello but is the film also trying to say they both are as morally and ethically bankrupt?
Throughout Le Samouraï as Jef returns to his apartment, the sound of a caged chirping bird plays repeatedly without the aid of any music. As would be heard the proceeding year in Once Upon A Time In The West, the use of a recurring sound is shown to be as memorable and effective as a great score (I can also attain that every time I have watched Le Samouraï, the chirping bird has garnered the attention of my cat). The bird even serves the plot as Jef shares an almost telepathic relationship with the avian, as when Jef has returned to the apartment to find the bird traumatized and shedding feathers, he starts exploring his apartment only to find he has been bugged.
Le Samouraï opens with a quotation from the book Bushido: The Soul of Japan - "There is no solitude greater than a samurai's, unless perhaps it is that of a tiger in the jungle." However, this quote is entirely a creation of the film and not taken from said book. How much of actual samurai mythology is present in Le Samouraï or is the film just trying to look a bit cooler with a westernized interpretation of what a samurai is? Regardless, the film earns its merits in so many other regards I can easily look past such a thing.
