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I Saw the Devil
I Wake Up Screaming
I Walked With a Zombie
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Imitation of Life
Imitation of Life
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I Saw the Devil 2010 Jee-woon Kim (Korea) 3.0 Min-sik Choi very convincing as incredibly vicious serial killer who rapes his victims (invariably young women) before murdering them in always grisly fashion; Byung-hun Lee as Korean secret agent (?) who pursues vengeance against Choi after the murder of his fiancée, turning himself into a killer almost as vicious as his target; San-ha Oh and Yoon-seo Kim as two pretty sisters, one of them married to Lee. Over-the-top grisly and explicit horror film about serial murder, what the perpetrator does to the bodies of his victims, and the vengeance that the husband of a murdered woman wreaks upon the murderer. The narrative follows Lee in his single-minded and ruthless pursuit of the killer; deciding to make him suffer, he refrains from killing him the first three times he encounters him, but he just bloodies, beats and maims him and then tracks him again for another torture session; he “makes the mistake” of letting his victim live too many times, and Choi “turns the tables” by tracking his sister-in-law and father-in-law and murdering them; in the conclusion Lee again captures and imprisons Choi and then arranges to have him beheaded by a sort of guillotine that is activated by Choi’s family – thus perfect revenge achieved. The film, which is extremely well made (vivid cinematography, appropriate pacing, realistic make-up, good acting, etc.), excels in its horrifyingly vivid and grisly depictions of the effects of violence (often knives or blunt instruments on the head) on the human body. After being raped and murdered, the initial victim is cut into pieces and her visibly dismembered body is carted off somewhere; on one occasion Lee pierces the Achilles tendon of Choi to lame him, on another he drives a large nail-like instrument through his cheek into his mouth; after hitching a ride with two men in a cab, Choi attacks them in a series of lightning moves, stabbing them repeatedly to the accompaniment of squishy, slashing sound effects; the coup de grace is a partner-in-crime that Choi visits – he is seen eating vividly colored raw flesh, and when he runs out, he checks his refrigerator, and not finding what he wants, he drags another pretty girl out of the dungeon (but before he can butcher her, she is saved by a Lee’s lightning attack). The film invites us to reflect on gradations of evil – e.g., is the cannibal really worse than Choi (on the other hand Choi apparently rapes – “gives pleasure” – to his victims before he kills them)? And then is Lee in his relentless and sadistic pursuit of Choi really any better morally than the criminal? And isn’t he awfully careless and irresponsible – how many further victims of Choi are possible because Lee doesn’t either kill him or turn him into the police? The movie is also too long. It never becomes boring until the end (the final scene takes too long), but since much of the interest of the film is in its novelty, the maiming and killing just goes on too long. The viewer is not likely to forget this one.


I'll Cry Tomorrow 1955 Daniel Mann (MGM) 3.0 Susan Hayward in blockbusting role as alcoholic singer Lillian Roth; Richard Conte as one of her jerk alcoholic husbands; Jo Van Fleet as her usually dolled up, neurotic mother; Eddie Albert as the sweet guy who helps save her in AA and who falls in love with her. Rather typical Hollywood 50s biopic about a singer/performer who is forced into her career by her stage mother mom, who falls into life-threatening skid row alcoholism, suffers mightily at the hands of bad husbands that she doesn't love, and who finally recovers through the help of AA and finds the good man she has been looking for all her life. Filming in black and white helps bring the film down to reality with a minimum of glamorous posturing. The film rests entirely on the shoulders of Hayward, who convincingly runs the gamut of an alcoholic's intense and violent emotions: anger and blaming everyone around her for her life, self-disgust at her humiliation and her inability to stop drinking (how many times does she promise and break it?), stumbling bleary-eyed, hair disheveled, clothes torn and stained into flea bag hotels; and yet making visible the light of her goodness under it all and preserving in the viewer the hope of recovery (surely abetted by our awareness of the Hollywood pattern). Hayward, whose renditions of Roth's songs were supposed to be dubbed by Roth herself, instead used her own strong, expressive, although rather untrained, voice in the musical numbers. 50s Hollywood is allowed to treat alcoholism fairly frankly, but without the sexual complications and with the assurance of a happy ending. The serious side of 50s filmmaking.


I’m Your Man 2005 Lian Lunson 3.0 Eclectic tribute to Leonard Cohen that includes: performance of many of his best songs by assorted artists at a tribute concert in the Sydney Opera House in 2005; off-concert interviews with Cohen, who tells interesting stories about himself – from Montreal to meditation with the Zen Buddhists on Mt. Baldy – and gives us priceless quotations (a good example being his interpretation of the ‘Traitor’); and tributes from other admirers, the best being Edge and Bono from U2, who think he walks on water – in fact he came down from the Mount of Sinai with the tablets after he had conversed with God! And like the medieval Irish monks, he retired to his windowless cell to listen for the voice of God (wait for inspiration for his songs). Some of the song interpretations are wonderful – Antony’s intense, shivering falsetto rendition of “If It Be Your Will” is unforgettable; Rufus Wainwright gives excellent rendition of “Everybody Knows”, Cohen’s apocalyptic song, and “Chelsea Hotel”; his interpretation of “Hallelujah” is somewhat less masterful since he has to endure the accompaniment of two female singers who don’t seem to understand what they are singing; Teddy Thompson is driving relentlessly and unlike the master, making himself understood in “The Future” (actually not in the movie but included on the soundtrack), and then gives a beautifully nuanced and sensitive rendition of the little known country-inspired “Tonight Will be Fine”. There are two versions of “The Tower of Song” – the first a little hard to take from Nick Cave, and the second featuring the return of Cohen’s foggy baritone with the accompaniment of Bono and Edge. Cohen looks terrific at 70 – thin, dark, well tailored clothes, looking simultaneously chic and prophetic, and talking to us easily with self-deprecating humor. Wonderful tribute for people who admire Cohen and love his songs. The film would have benefited from more onscreen Cohen, who is a charming and informative interview subject.


I Wake Up Screaming 1941 H. Bruce Humberstone 3.0 Victor Mature looking young and thin as celebrity promoter (?) in large city; Carole Landis as self-centered “hash-slinger” who gets stars in her eyes when Mature offers to introduce her to the advertising and modeling world; Betty Grable cute as a button as Landis’ “gee whiz”, down-to-earth sister who eventually falls for Mature; Laird Cregar as bulky, creepy police inspector seen early prowling around Landis’ workplace and obsessed with pinning the murder of Landis on Mature; Alan Mowbray bemused as one of the men bamboozled by Landis. Excellently made, entertaining Fox who-dun-it production restored to razor-sharp condition with typical Fox musical score (the mystery theme and “Somewhere over the Rainbow”). Mature is pursued inexorably by the obsessed Cregar collecting evidence to “send him to the chair”; he claims he has enough to send him up for life, but that isn’t enough. Although the film has some noir elements – a sort of bad Girl (Landis, but she is murdered early), dark shadows in the apartments and police department, and even reflections of venetian blinds – it is essentially a who-dun-it, planting suspicions in our minds about most of the characters and wondering whether the sincere-acting protagonist – Mature – might actually have committed the murder since he appeared to be attached to Landis and she had decided to leave for LA for a Hollywood contract. After a scene in which Mature is actually arrested, Grable bangs Cregar on the head (no consequences!), the two kids escape, break into Cregar’s apartment, where they see the walls covered with portraits and shrines of Landis – he had been sexually obsessed with her and murdered her when he thought that she was actually falling in love with Mature; hence his desire to pin the rap on the latter. Nice resolution. Film is notable for its four star restoration and its impeccable directorial taste – framing, mise-en-scene, lighting, camera movement. Grable is a fetching innocent girl protagonist doing all she can to find the real murderer of her sister, an especially difficult task since the perpetrator turns out to be the police inspector in charge of the case. Cregar effective as the lumbering, sinister heavy, whom we always suspect – the viewer always thinks that his eagerness to finger Mature may come from his desire to protect himself. Keeps the mind engaged.


I Walked With a Zombie 1943 Jacques Tourneur (RKO, Val Lewton) 4.0 Frances Dee as rather innocent, smart Canadian nurse hired by Tom Conway to take care of his “mentally ill” wife, Jessica; Tom Conway (Paul) as the George Sanders–like (his brother) San Sebastian sugar planter who coolly falls in love with Betsy; James Ellison (Wesley) as more or less alcoholic brother who has had an affair with Paul’s wife and who has very difficult relationship with his brother (as one might imagine; he is however the weakest of the three principal actors); Edith Barrett as Paul’s mother who turns out responsible for Jessica being in her current state. Takes place on Caribbean sugar island where present relationships are blighted by a past experience of slavery (the figurehead of the arrow-pierced Saint Sebastian in the Hammonds’ yard is the symbol); voodoo survives as perhaps a manifestation of the blacks’ undercurrent rejection of white domination. Film takes voodoo seriously (many attractive black actors are shown practicing it, Jessica appears to be controlled by it, Paul’s mother is involved in it mixing Christianity with pagan practices), although it never tells us whether it is objectively valid. Story is psychologically acute and interesting, although the romantic attachment developing between Betsy and Paul seems pretty hokey – what actually happened at the beginning to explain Jessica’s state? what were the relative roles played in her ills by the two brothers? what is Betsy up to in trying to save Jessica for Paul by taking her to voodoo meeting at Homefort? what is Mrs. Rand (mother) up to, etc.? Paul is interesting character – betrayed by his wife (it turns out), he is very pessimistic and fatalistic in telling Betsy about the prevalence of death on the island, and yet it turns out he is relatively blameless. The viewer is never quite sure what happened; after all, the victim Jessica is either catatonic or a zombie “living dead” and cannot explain the past to Betsy. Singer Sir Lancelot sings intriguing calypso-like song about the tragedy of the Hammonds in the street of the nearby town. Film ends tragically, as Wesley ‘kills’ Jessica with an arrow from the figurehead, just as the zombie incantators spear a doll of her; then he walks into the surf where he is drowned. Film ends with a sort of Christian prayer (voiceover by Dee) commenting on the suffering of the people on the island and invoking forgiveness and future happiness. Film is a visual joy, perhaps its best characteristic. Photography is mostly crisp and detailed; soft but defined contrasts, with use of atmospheric shadows – lots of scenes with light casting shadows on characters, often Betsy sitting or sleeping – the slats of the shudders, or the slowly moving shadow of Carrefour as he stalks Jessica outside her window. Marvelous art direction: one is aware that we are on a set, but the light, the sky, the plants, the water are all presented with supreme taste and artistic appropriateness. The best scene is Betsy leading Jessica through the moonlit overgrown cane fields – the cane plants swaying and rustling in the wind with the ubiquitous tom-toms drumming in the distance, the women walking past voodoo talismans like a dead goat hung upside down and scary voodoo guards like Carrefour staring impassively and scarily as they walk past. Jacques Tourneur’s direction is elegant and flowing – tasteful editing, perfect continuity. Script has surprises, but is not very scary; arty and creepy is more like it.


Il y a longtemps que je t'aime 2008 Philippe Claudel (France) 3.5 Kristin Scott Thomas in blockbuster performance as dour woman who returns to her sister's house after serving 15 years in prison for killing her son; Elsa Zylberstein as her well-adjusted yet very sensitive sister -- she teaches at the local university, is a fond wife and the mother of two adopted Vietnamese children; Serge Hazanavicius as Zylberstein's loving husband; Lise Segur as the cutest Vietnamese child you will ever see in a film. Heartfelt, effective, down-to-earth film about reconnecting with a close relative after a traumatic experience and a long separation. The film takes place in Nancy (Lorraine), although there is little indication of a specific place. The film charts the gradual reconnecting of the two sisters, as Thomas reintegrates herself back into a life outside of prison, where she was withdrawn and depressed. The screenplay and Thomas' acting do not reveal in the beginning what she is experiencing -- is she moving toward redemption? Is she a psychopath who will strike again? She seeks sex one time with a guy she picks up in a bar, she develops friendships with two sympathetic men (one of whom (Frederic Pierrot) is unhappy in his work, dreams of exploring the Orinoco River, and then commits suicide; the other is a lively fellow professor of Zylberstein in the Literature Department), she finds a job working as a secretary in a hospital (she had originally studied medicine before she went to prison), and she gradually develops an affectionate relationship with her two nieces, especially Segur. Sylberstein must also go through a path of reconciliation: through emotional outbursts she shows the suffering she has experienced from being separated from her sister. The film climaxes in a highly emotional scene between the two women, when Thomas reveals that she killed her terminally ill son out of mercy to relieve him from further suffering; after much shouting, the narrative ends in a tearful embrace. The film projects a very affectionate view of the family that plays, teases, enjoys life. Its style is elegantly simple, charting the development of the story in the midst of everyday activities like reading to the children at night, taking them to school, cooking and eating dinner. An extraordinarily impressive first film.


L’illusioniste 2010 Sylvain Chomet (France) 3.5 A charming animated tale with a slight narrative based on an unpublished script by Jacque Tati that the author obtained from his daughter. The title character, who looks and behaves exactly like Tati, is a prestidigitator having a hard time finding employment in late 1950s Paris in the dawning age of rock and roll; he takes a job in a tavern in rural Scotland, where he meets a slight teenage girl, who persuades him to take her to Edinburgh; there they set up a household as father and daughter in a hotel inhabited by showbiz types (acrobats, a melancholy suicidal clown, etc.); the Tati character takes on several jobs (always unsuccessfully, e.g., when he fails to take good care of a customer’s 1957 Chevrolet two-door sedan) to support his ward; meanwhile, she spreads her wings, finds a boyfriend, and thanks to “dad” begins to dress in modish late 50s clothes – pretty high-heel shoes and baby blue dress with white trim just below the knee; the film ends wistfully and sadly with Tati setting his beloved rabbit free in the hills, leaving a note behind for the girl (“There are no Illusionists”), and then takes the train for … no one knows. The mood is light and wistful in its melancholy: the Tati character is alone (no friends, no relative, no spouse), quite lonely as he wanders around the town with a long face and performs clever magic tricks in front of sparse audiences who show little appreciation. His only companion is a beautifully animated fat white rabbit who bounces around his apartment; he causes Tati deep concern when the girl serves him rabbit stew in the Edinburgh apartment, until the rabbit peeks out – alive! – from under the sofa. The character of the girl seems a bit egotistical: she seems affectionate enough toward him in the beginning, but she gives very little back once she has shed her working girl’s clothes and begun to adapt to the urban environment. The lack of narrative interest is more than made up for by the exquisite animation: carefully drawn water color backgrounds, pale colors, very exact details, smooth movements (and quirky in the case of Tati’s stiff legged, rather obsequious and hesitant walk with his rear end usually protruding), picturesque sound effects, all giving a lightly mysterious glow to every setting; Edinburgh is particularly charming with its dark buildings, changing skies, mountains in the background, accurate small cars moving through the streets. The film is virtually wordless: all characters speak in a kind of gobbledygook with English and French words occasionally emerging from the stew; the music is light-hearted and thin, seemingly very French.


Imitation of Life 1934 John Stahl 3.0 Claudette Colbert, Louise Beavers, Warren William, Rochelle Hudson, Ned Sparks (in his typical cynical sour disposition and raspy voice). First version of movie. Very well directed with effective use of close-ups of faces; and a kind of thematic continuity of Rochelle’s toy duck – picture of it floating in the bathtub at the beginning and then Mom reminding her of “quack, quack” at the end. Good 30s women’s movie with top stars, good acting (especially Beavers despite her rather saccharine character), and a good print showing excellent cinematography. Film approaches the issue of racial lines in American society, but very gingerly: great pains taken to make Beavers character subservient (she doesn’t want a cut of the profits of her pancake business, but would prefer to remain a servant in Colbert’s house!); she lives downstairs in modest room in Colbert’s mansion; she does not apparently attend parties given by Colbert for her business; and the film deals with the relatively safe subject of light-skinned blacks being accepted as whites – script seems to say that Beavers and Peola would be happy if the latter would just accept her Black identity and not be obsessed with passing as white. Bigger theme is mothers and daughters; it seems that these two oppressed mothers would do basically anything to make their daughters happy – Beavers cares only for the welfare of her daughter and is constantly soothing her with “Baby, baby;” Colbert says repeatedly that she lives only for the good of her daughter, and she even breaks off her plans to marry William to please her daughter. Neither daughter is as obnoxious and destructive as Joan Crawford’s daughter in ‘Mildred Pierce.” Biggest scene is Beavers’ enormous pompous funeral, the only real ambition of her life. Another example of studio Hollywood making women’s picture about businesswoman and the dilemmas the business brings to her life (is she going to sell out her business when she gets married?). One tires a bit of Colbert’s ubiquitous smile; she seems incapable of other emotions including anger, worry, etc. Subplot of Hudson falling in love with her mother’s boyfriend is very lame, and deserves to be cut from the remake!


Imitation of Life 1959 Douglas Sirk (Universal) 3.5 Lana Turner heartfelt, ambitious, honest, a good girl who wants the best for her daughter and who stands up for decency about race; Juanita Moore earnest, smiling, and good hearted in the usual servant’s role, ending her performance with an eternal pained expression on her face; John Gavin very handsome, preppy although rather dour – wants a traditional wife and wears a dark suit or a dickie; Susan Kohner ill-tempered and resentful as teenage daughter of Juanita overacting most of the time (hugging her mother’s hearse shouting “I killed my mother!”) and hung up about being “colored”; Sandra Dee as over-dressed, pretty, peppy, good-hearted daughter of Lana; Troy Donahue in cameo as Susan Kohner’s violently racist boyfriend. Exemplary pumped up Sirk opera from 1959. Based on the 1934 original but heavily updated for the late 50s. Follows the friendship of Turner and Moore from their meeting on Coney Island, to raising their daughters together, Turner’s romantic difficulties and stage triumphs, the two women’s troubles with their teenage daughters, and finally the death of Moore. The Sirk style is pumped up, pleasingly exaggerated. Filmed in the brightest of 50s color palates with emphasis on brightly painted lips; swelling, obtrusive music punctuating and emphasizing the melodramatic goings on; Turner appearing in dozens of impossibly glamorous costumes in monumental bourgeois houses (after her success), and Dee not far behind; exploitation of women’s emotions – hopeless love, maternal pain and despair at the lack of loyalty from children, more suffering caused by Dee’s professed lover for mother’s fiancé; deep grief at the death of a friend. Approaches a lot of 50s themes: wayward teenagers that are the despair of their mothers (Kohner); the either-or conflict between career and marriage – Turner chooses great success as a stage and film actress, although fought every inch of the way by Gavin, who insists that she not work when she marries him, and Dee, who reproaches her tearfully for not having spent more time with her when she was a child. And then there is race: Kohner is humiliated that she is black (although she – incredibly given Moore’s appearance – has in her no visible traces of it), and her decision to run away and become a “dancer” comes from her refusal to be identified with being “colored”; Moore is decent, quiet and reassuring with no hint of anger or rebellion; Turner is equally decent with never a sign of racism in her treatment of Moore (except perhaps that she keeps her as a servant and not a social equal). Except in the brutal and shocking Donahue episode, overt racism is absent from the film. Film ends in reconciliation at Moore’s famous funeral (Mahalia Jackson singing, hundreds of people present, four white horses pulling the hearse through the street to the accompaniment of a brass band) with the pious wish that everything will turn out with just love, patience and loyalty. In its picture of the disintegrating family and unresolved racial tensions the film is essentially pessimistic. Imagery and strong emotion make it unforgettable.