The Briefest of Reviews from 1973

I wish that I could like Luchino Visconti, but I guess I just don't. I liked Romy Schneider and Trevor Howard in Ludwig, and literally every shot could be framed and put in a gallery. It's that gorgeous. But the film is just so boring. And I am really interested in Ludwig II and in Richard Wagner, whose life and work have always fascinated me, but I feel like Visconti just drains all energy out of his films. This is sacrilege, I know, but I feel it is time to be honest about this.

There is one sequence in Ludwig that I liked and that has real emotional impact: there is an extended sequence (every sequence is an extended sequence in Visconti) where Romy Schneider takes a tour of all the castles that Ludwig has built. The castles are all empty and unbelievably sumptuous. At the end of the sequence, Schneider throws her head back and laughs. I loved this sequence, but for me that was the film's only scene of merit.

Also. I do not understand what it was with the Italians from this time – Fellini and Visconti in particular. Why are all their films dubbed? I fail to understand it. Helmut Berger, as far as I can tell, was speaking English in the film. But instead of listening to him speak in English, I listen to someone else speak over him in Italian and then read an English translation of that Italian in the subtitles. I am sure there must be an explanation for this, but whatever Visconti's reasoning (and Fellini's and René Clément's) the dubbing works to distance me from the emotional impact of the film.

Visconti

I didn't like The Leopard. God forgive me. I watched it last night and I know, I know, I know, I was supposed to love it, but I... well, I just didn't love it. In fact, I disliked it more than I liked it. I gave it two stars on freaking Netflix.

It's pretty. No, it's absolutely stunningly gorgeous. Seriously. Visconti's color is beautiful (maybe even spectacular) and the Criterion Collection DVD makes everything just sparkle and look fabulous. The costume designer (the awesome Piero Tosi) even got an Academy Award nomination for the film. The costumes are ravishing and he probably should even have won (scratch that: Cleopatra won that year and deservedly so).

For those of you who don't know about The Leopard, it's by Luchino Visconti and it's often touted as one of the finest films ever made, la la la. I read reviews on the internet that wax poetic about the film like you wouldn't believe. But the original Italian version is a dubbed Italian version because the lead actor in the film is American film star Burt Lancaster (clearly speaking English, though Italian was coming out of my speakers) and the second-billed male is French hearthrob Alain Delon (also speaking Italian out of my speakers). Visconti was forced by his financiers to cast a big American star and so enter Lancaster. The thing is, the Burt Lancaster issue didn't bug me. In actual fact, I don't usually like him, but The Leopard is probably the best performance I've seen him give and I've seen him in a boatload of movies. (He's even in my favorite film noir: The Killers. Have you rented it yet?) So if that's not the problem, why was I so BORED?

I start doubt myself? Am I not a true film-lover? And then I realize that, no, I (like everyone else) love Aguirre: the Wrath of God and The Thin Red Line and Pather Panchali and other much-touted "best films ever." It's this film with which I find fault.

But I'm wondering if I just don't like Luchino Visconti. Maybe it's his penchant for allegories. I've only seen one of his other films: 1972's Death in Venice. And though I really liked Death in Venice, I wasn't particularly enamored with Visconti's ability to tell a story. I think the subject matter in Death is fascinating, and I loved all of that Gustav Mahler music, and there is that brilliant Dirk Bogarde performance anchoring the thing. But I guess I'm wondering if without those things, Visconti just isn't much.
Obviously, I need to try this theory, so I'll rent The Damned soon. Or should I rent something else? Suggestions welcome.
(And feel free to fight with me about The Leopard if you've seen it and loved it and all of that jazz. I'm game.)

Kung Fu

Stephen Chow's Kung Fu Hustle is part Charlie Chaplin, part Akira Kurosawa, part Vincente Minelli and part Zhang Yimou. You might think that this combination would be crap. But oh how wrong you would be. Kung Fu Hustle is hilarious, visually cool, and always inventive.

I've been seeing more Italian cinema than usual, as well. Last night on the recommendation of my boss I saw Luchino Visconti's Death in Venice from 1971. It's very good, but it's not a movie I would go around recommending. It's a very very sad film about death and morality amidst a plague (a symbol, perhaps, for moral weakness) set to the music of Gustav Mahler. Like I said, it's wonderfully made, but I didn't love it. (Sound familiar?)

Friday nights blow... I'm always too tired to really do anything like go out dancing or partying or dating (oh yeah, I don't do that anyway.)

I still don't have a concept for The Two Gentlemen. Why am I suddenly a talentless hack who can't even come up with a concept? Grr. I need to read it again. It will come to me. Maybe it hasn't come because the cast isn't finalized...

Oh... and I got the script that I've been hired to direct in the Fall and the gods must be crazy. Stephen Jeffreys' version of Hard Times clocks in at three hours. What? The Heidi Stillman version you see at right (if you're reading this on my main page) is a totally different animal, evidently, although the characters--and some of the lines--are the same. Hmm. I guess I have my work cut out for me.