Il Posto (1961) - Ermanno Olmi

I'm a total history buff and before I sold my soul to the devil and became an accountant, I majored in history with a dream of becoming the female David McCullough.  I enjoyed Il Posto far more than I thought I would because of its pragmatic observation of corporate culture and the so-called "economic miracle" in Italy between the end of World War II and the late 1960s.

First, some background.  After years of economic and political unrest, countries like Italy were susceptible of falling under the rising tide of communism in postwar Europe. In an effort to contain communism abroad, the Truman Administration extended economic aid to Europe through The Marshall Plan with the goal of stabilizing these postwar economies and fending off Soviet influence.  Between 1946 and the mid 1960s, Italy received more than $1.5 billion of Marshall Plan money as well as contracts to produce munitions for the US Army in the Korean War...another front of America's containment policy in the Cold War.  This injection of money and manufacturing helped Italy's GDP grow by more than 4% annually in the 2 decades after World War II.  This economic turnaround was nothing short of a miracle.  Italy's economy rebounded to be stronger than it had been prewar and turned the country from a rural society of peasants to a manufacturing and industrial powerhouse that was third only to Germany and the United Kingdom.  It is within this economic miracle that Olmi's work takes place.

 The film's protagonist is Domenico, a young boy from the outskirts of Milan who goes into the city to interview for a job that once he gets, will likely be his career for life.  The interview consists of a series of seemingly random aptitude, physical, and psychological tests.  During the interview, he meets Antonietta, a young girl from San Siro who like Domenico, has forgone high school to start work in this bustling economy.  After Domenico gets a mail room job with the company, he quickly realizes the monotony of corporate life and for most of the film, Antonietta represents a beacon of light in the otherwise mundane workplace.

The pair's meeting seems so serendipitous and Domenico is visibly excited at the prospect of working with his crush.  This fantasy is quickly dashed when he ends up in the mail room and she gets assigned to be a typist in a completely separate building.  Nevertheless, Domenico goes into work every day with the hopes of running into her but this proves impossible because they have different lunch hours and his day ends 15 minutes after hers.  Domenico's crush is both endearing and heartbreaking but it's something that is so relatable.  Antonietta never tries to come see him but he still clings onto the hope that they will meet again.  With his first paycheck, Domenico buys himself a jacket that she mentioned she liked and waits for her in the rain.  When he finally sees her, she is on her way to the fair with a group of colleagues and arm in arm with another young man while Domenico watches from a distance, his new jacket soaked from the rain.

Il Posto is the film equivalent of an album by The National in that it explores the disillusionment and lonely reality of corporate culture.  Olmi bisects Domenico's story with glimpses into the mundane and heartbreaking lives of his coworkers  in a way that feels prophetic.  You can't help but wonder whether these people went through the same interview process as our hero and that their reality is Domenico's future.  Olmi's work is an unromantic examination of this so-called economic miracle through the lens of a character who is essentially a child forced into a very adult world.  Even as the soul crushing reality of his work settles in, Domenico holds into the belief that there will be a happy ending to this job...or at least he wants to believe in a happy ending.  In his mind, he's going to earn some money and take the girl out for coffee which they will both enjoy.  As it turns out, he takes her out for coffee with pocket money from his mother and they both find that they aren't particularly fond of coffee.

 Economic growth brings about prosperity which in theory makes people happier. However, as economic stability steadily transforms Milan into a bustling metropolis filled with consumerism and "prosperity", it's hard to argue that these material things bring people actual happiness.  Domenico and Antonietta's families constantly urge them to do well in the interview because once they got the job, they would have it for life.  In theory, our own personal economic stability is supposed to put us at ease but the reality of having one job for life is thoroughly depressing.  It's heartbreaking to watch a child recognize that in order to achieve his own personal economic stability, he has to accept that there are dreams which will never be realized.

Olmi's work is a commentary on the choices and sacrifices we all make as adults in the face of "real life" obligations.  At one point or another, we all enter "the real world" and no matter how cynical, we do so with exuberance and far-reaching dreams.  As the reality of financial constraints and obligations settle in, most of us are forced to choose: do you want to live comfortably or do you want to chase this unlikely dream?  Most of us come to the realization that life at the bottom of the economic ladder sucks and so we settle on doing something that we enjoy but it isn't necessarily fulfilling.  So there's the question: does your personal financial stability outweigh the nagging voice in the back of your head that says you are unfulfilled and something is missing in your life?

Loves of a Blonde (1965) - Miloš Forman

Zruc is a small factory town in Czechoslovakia's dying manufacturing industry where the women factory workers outnumber the men by sixteen to one.  In such a competitive market, women find themselves desperately vying for any man's attention but the town beauty, Andula, has no shortage of men trying to woo her.  The women are excited when they hear news that the Czech Army will station soldiers in Zruc but that excitement quickly dissipates when they realize that the army sent reservists to town instead of the strapping young men they'd envisioned.

Loves of a Blonde is a simple story about a small town girl who falls for a guy from the big city.  The story is simple and one that happens all the time, but the film is shot like a slapstick comedy with satirical observations of human behavior throughout.  Within her predominantly female town, Andula is the beautiful girl that every man wants and while she pretends to be ignorant of her appeal to men, she's never above bragging about her latest love interest.  When she and her friends notice the middle-aged soldiers looking their way, the girls act bored and feign disinterest. "Oh God, I hope they don't send drinks over," they say, but then are disappointed when it appears that the men sent the table of women next to theirs a bottle of wine.  (This turns out to be a mistake and leads to one of the most cringe-worthy and yet, hilarious, sequences of the film.)

It isn't appropriate to call Andula "ungrateful" for her ultra-effective pheromones, but she definitely carries herself with a sense of entitlement...and how could she not?  Within her small town, she is the girl who has guys giving her diamond rings while the other girls haven't even seen a diamond in the flesh.  Days after she and Milda sleep together, she is confronted by this particular young man outside the factory and tells him to leave her alone but that she's keeping the ring because it was a gift.  Simply put, Andula is hot shit in this small town but when she meets Milda, she quickly learns that her appeal is not universal nor does it extend beyond the borders of Zruc.  Rather, within the context of a large city and options, she is in fact just an average pretty girl from a small town who gets played by a smooth talking metropolitan musician.

Forman's narrative is thoughtful and endearing while his direction proved to be stylistically influential to Czech New Wave cinema.  Forman experimented with shooting scenes where half of the characters were professional actors while the others' reactions were semi-improvisational.  This stylistic choice gives the film a distinct feeling of realness and the characters' interaction a sense of candidness.  When a table of young women notice that a table of middle aged men checking them out, both tables debate pretending not to notice the other.  Andula's first encounter with Milda, a jazz pianist from Prague, is as awkward as first meetings usually are and their reunion in Prague with his parents is even more cringe-worthy.  Forman's work was a visually striking piece of cinema with no scene more memorable than the post-coital scene between Milda and Andula.  Shot entirely from above, the scene is risque even by today's standard but the moment's intimacy makes the scene sexy, not the physical depiction of sex.

"...and you, you look like a guitar too, but one painted by Picasso."

L'Avventura (1960) - Michelangelo Antonioni

L'Avventura is a film with a reputation.  Upon its premiere at the Cannes Film Festival in 1960, it was booed by the audience but was selected for the Jury Prize after its second showing.  (Apparently the Jury Prize is the third most prestigious prize at Cannes.)  That sort of "only critics understand this" credibility makes it the quintessential pretentious-high brow-foreign film that everybody thinks you should see.  I don't mean to sound like a film snob, but really, everyone should see this film.

Antonioni’s characters live in a world of extreme wealth which allows them the luxury of ultimate leisure because inherently, leisure is what separates the rich.  Without the burdens of a job or financial obligations, the film’s central figures live an MTV lifestyle complete with self-created problems.  With a name like L'Avventura, it is only fitting that the story is a melodramatic tale about incredibly shallow people all searching for their own adventure.

Anna is the spoiled daughter of an Italian diplomat who disapproves of her relationship with Sandro, a wealthy playboy.  Despite her obvious beauty and privileged lifestyle, Anna is shown as a character who is constantly looking for something or wanting to prove something.  In the film's opening scene, Anna’s father simply tells her “that boy will never marry you”, referring to Sandro. Immediately after their conversation, Anna reunites with Sandro and seduces him while her best friend Claudia waits in the street.  Later, Anna is distraught and frightened when she sees a shark while swimming.  “I could have died!” she exclaims.  She later confesses to Claudia that she made up the shark.  The shark scare served as the fix for an argument between her and Sandro with him coming to her rescue in the ocean.  It’s obvious that Anna is a perpetual liar who spins tales for attention-so much so that when she goes missing, Sandro blankly states that she is probably hiding from the group to get attention.  As the group searches for Anna, I asked Justin what he thinks happened to her. “I don’t think she died but if she did, she probably died trying to hide from them for attention.”  Sounds about right.

Early in the film, Anna’s best friend Claudia doesn’t seem too impressed with Sandro but a few stolen
glances during the search for her friend and she’s putty in his hands.  Sandro makes his intentions clear about 18 hours after Anna’s disappearance.  As Claudia finds herself increasingly attracted to Sandro, she breaks down out of guilt and it appears that she is suffering a moral dilemma.  This lasts approximately 6 minutes.  Antonioni paints Claudia as a young woman who desperately wants to have this sordid love affair that in her mind, is an adventure that will make her oh so interesting and mysterious.  You know that girl who would have an affair with a married man just to have a story to tell?  Claudia is that girl.  After her initial hesitations, she dives head first into a relationship that she can’t possibly believe will last and it is one that turns her into an insecure young woman who is desperate for Sandro’s love.  She constantly asks Sandro for affirmation that he loves her and it’s plain to see that deep down, she has reservations about Sandro’s sudden discovery of his feelings for her.

Sandro is Anna’s wealthy playboy lover and the archetype of an Italian lothario.  He thinks that he is a passionate man but really, he’s a guy that wants to sleep with all the beautiful women.  Within about a week of meeting Claudia and a few days after his girlfriend’s disappearance, Sandro tells Claudia that he loves her and casually suggests that the two get married.  This is outrageous.  Anna wanted nothing more than for Sandro to marry her but even as he brushed her off, it seemed unlikely that she would ever leave him.  In the scene before her disappearance, Anna cryptically tells Sandro that if he doesn’t want to marry her, then she wants to be alone but he quickly dismisses her implying that he doesn’t actually believe her.  Only when Claudia resists his advances  and questions his love, Sandro abruptly suggests marriage.  He doesn’t ask her to marry him, he simply suggests it and then quickly brushes the idea aside when she points out how crazy it is.

If one thing is clear in this film, it's that none of these characters are in love.  In one of the most memorable scenes, Claudia asks Sandro to tell her he loves her. "I love you," he says with a small smile. "Tell me you don't love me," she tests him.  "I don't love you." Sandro says simply before leaving the bedroom.  He quickly comes back. "That was a lie, I love you."  It seems sweet but Sandro's actions after the scene tell a different story.  The trio are completely devoid of true emotion so it seems ironic that Antionioni's characters find themselves in the most dramatic circumstances and saying the most heartfelt things that can't possibly be true.  To them, love is the ultimate adventure but they are indiscriminate of the “adventure” they choose.  Simply put, they are all unhappily “in love” because they are scared to be alone.

L'Avventura is a remarkable film in that it is the predecessor to the modern soap opera.  Its themes are too familiar in today's culture as the characters feel like they would be right at home on Gossip Girl.  In one way or another, every character is going through their own existential crisis but they never allow themselves to fully explore the emptiness they all feel.  Instead, Anna and her peers fill their fears with disingenuous relationships that they choose to believe is true love.  Nevertheless, Antonioni's work is not merely a scathing commentary of the vapid  and superficial upper class, but an outstanding examination of the fear we all have of being alone and its consequences.

Knife in the Water (1962) - Roman Polanski

Let me start by saying that Knife in the Water is probably one of my favorite films ever.  Justin and I both watched it for the first time about two weeks ago and I spent the better part of that weekend talking about it to anyone that would listen.  "You need to stop annoying our friends."  I need our friends to watch the film so I have someone to talk to about it.

Knife in the Water was Roman Polanski's first feature film and America's introduction to the brilliant but often polarizing Polish filmmaker.  The premise of the story is simple-Krystyna and Andrzej, a wealthy couple, pick up a young hitchhiker and eventually invite him on a boating excursion for the day.  As the trio sets sail events unfold which have profound effects on the politics and psychological dynamics of Andrzej, Krystyna, and their guest who remains unnamed throughout the film  The work is both dark and unsettling as Polanski skillfully lures viewers into a state of heightened awareness and anxiety only to relieve it with light scenes of blissful sailing before the film's penultimate climax.

The film features 3 characters and is shot almost entirely on the boat named for the beautiful Krystyna who bears an uncanny resemblance to Jacqueline Kennedy.  The wind unexpectedly stops while the trio anchors the boat for lunch, leading to much frustration from the hitchhiker.  As events unfold and tension is ratcheted up, viewers want nothing more than a reprieve from the the unsettling atmosphere but like our characters, we are stuck on the boat.  When the wind finally picks up, tension on the boat is relieved and as a result, the tension we feel as viewers is relieved.  In this, Polanski cleverly plays with the notion that these characters are at the mercy of the wind much like viewers are at the mercy of him, the storyteller.

Polanski's work is true masterpiece of film making and story telling.  It is a true testament to Polanski's genius that a film shot so simply and with such a simple story line can be so good.  There are no special effects or plot twists to speak of but the film will keep you on the edge of your seat until the screen cuts to black.  Part of the appeal (or is it fear?) is that viewers don't know the so-called "rules" of this film world.  Viewers simply don't know what these characters are or are not capable of and that unknown translates to the uncomfortable and uneasy feeling that Polanski intends to establish.

The 400 Blows (1959) - François Truffaut

Antoine Doinel is a misunderstood 14 year old boy who lives with his resentful mother and neglectful stepfather in a small Parisian apartment during the early 1950s.  Antoine is regularly ridiculed by his teachers and his multiple plans to run away from both school and home means that he spends much of the film "in trouble."

One of the film's overarching themes is the innocence of adolescence.  As part of a modern audience, it's hard to say that Antoine is a "bad child" but he isn't a good child.  We're left with the overwhelming feeling that he's just a kid exhibiting "boys will be boys" behavior.  His classmates pass around a pinup calendar but he's the one that gets caught holding it.  When he fails to complete his homework, Antoine skips school and when asked by his teacher, he lies and says that his mother died only for his furious mother to make an appearance at school that very afternoon.  He isn't a bully and his antics seem innocent but you can never escape from the nervous feeling that Antoine is never going to get away with this.

The connection my boyfriend felt towards The 400 Blows was obvious but my maternal reaction to the film surprised me.  As Antoine spirals down the rabbit hole of poor peer-pressure-induced choices, I couldn't help but wonder what I would do if he was my kid.  Truffaut does a splendid job of making viewers sympathetic towards his little hero.  It's hard not to hate his neglectful mother who spends her day in the arms of her boyfriend and at night insists that her son stop doing his homework so he can go pick up groceries.  It is obvious that neither she nor her husband are effective disciplinarians but Antoine's fate at the end of the film doesn't feel like a product of poor discipline.  Rather, it feels like our hero was grossly misunderstood and his fate a result of neglect from his parents and school teachers.  Nevertheless, Antoine is a frustrating adolescent whose choices make you want to shake him and ask "what are you thinking?"

This film was the cinema world's introduction to French New Wave Cinema, a style popularized by Truffaut, later adopted by Jean-Luc Godard, and most recently Michel Gondry.  The film's most enchanting scene is a tracking shot that typifies French New Wave Cinema.  In it, a class full of boys joins the physical education teacher for a run around the block and slowly in groups of two or three, sneak off into the streets until the instructor is left jogging by himself.  There is no dialogue in the long tracking shot and though our hero Antoine is part of the group of boys, he is not focused on.  In fact, Antoine and his friend sneak off very early in the shot and their destination is unknown to viewers.  Without saying a word, Truffaut tells a very simple and playful story that is actually independent of the film's overall story line.  The viewer never sees what the teacher does when he inevitably realizes that 25 of his students have run away and we never know what happens to the boys as a result of their stunt.  The next time we see Antoine and his classmates, they are in school and no discipline has been doled out.  In this, Truffaut establishes a common theme of French New Wave Cinema- the idea that a scene can exist as an anecdotal story and snapshot in a sequenced series of moving images.

50 Years of Janus Films

My boyfriend and I spent Thanksgiving this year with his father in Washington, D.C. and the man is a sponge for culture if I've ever seen one.  Over an incredible Italian spread of sauce and broccoli dab, we mentioned that neither of us had a background of classic cinema.  Three weeks later, we received a box the approximate size and weight of an Xbox One.  "My dad would never buy us an Xbox." Justin reminded me. This was true.  Last Christmas, he got me The Art Museum: Phaidon Press, a 17 lb, 2500 page art book that we can literally only keep on the dining room table.  It dwarfs our coffee table.

No, this package didn't contain an Xbox One.  With mucho gusto, we tore open the packaging to find a set containing 50 films from the Criterion Collection and an accompanying glossy book with feature commentary.  This is the epitome of a Mr. G gift.  The DVDs were housed in a sturdy book nestled next to the feature book in a luxurious box set.  It felt super pretentious so we had to look up how much this thing cost.  The answer: between $750 and $850.  Yup, this gift is the epitome of a Mr. G gift and it is bad ass.

I am not a cinephile.  Justin is a cinephile.  Sure, I've seen a lot of films with him and I want to be that person who's seen every film that's won any festival award ever, but I'm not quite there yet.  In the meantime, Mr. G's gift gives both of us a pretty incredible starting point as we explore art house cinema.