Sneezing and Monica Bellucci - Reviews #47

Malena (Giuseppe Tornatore, 2000) is an arresting but slightly insubstantial film from the creator of Cinema Paradiso, as village looker Malena becomes village hooker Malena, while remaining an angel in the eyes of eternally masturbating adolescent Giuseppe Sulfaro. It's really a coming-of-age story, but atypical of such films in its refusal to offer easy answers, or indeed any concessions to sentiment whatsoever. Beginning his film in 1940, with Italy on the brink of war, Tornatore displays his usual strong grasp of the Sicilian period setting: all white stone, crowded squares and appalling cattiness. And he's aided by a pair of very attractive central performances, along with cinematography and an Ennio Morricone score that are just glorious. Sadly though, while the script provides two memorable characters and considerable emotional engagement, it suffers from lurches in tone and is let down by repetition - essentially offering the same scene of Malena walking through the town over and over again - and an inability to tie up its loose ends. The narrative is augmented by a handful of very well-observed movie pastiches, but these are largely squashed into the first half. Malena is an honest, appealing, sometimes very funny film, but a touch light in the writing. (3)

***



Heaven Can Wait (Ernst Lubitsch, 1943) - There's surely no genre on earth as ripe for rehab as the romcom. Well this is how it used to look, before that debilitating addiction to formula filmmaking: clever, distinguished, witty and wise, with a focus on love, lust and the nature of being rather than, say, shoes. Don Ameche is the recently-deceased man about town who presents himself "where so many people had previously told him to go" - Hell. There, His Excellency (Laird Cregar) invites him to recount his story, from a youthful dalliance with a French maid, through elopement and marriage to the sweet-hearted Mary (Gene Tierney), then onto acceptance of his place in the world. On third viewing, it appears greater and more masterful than ever, blessed by Lubitsch's matchless handling. The performances he draws from the cast are superb across the board. The leads are delightful, legendary child stars Scotty Beckett and Dickie Moore play the young Ameches, while Charles Coburn is magnificent as the crusty, genial grandfather and Allyn Joslyn unexpectedly moving as Mary's "solid" suitor. Look also for celebrated character comics Eugene Pallette and Marjorie Main, as Tierney's constantly-warring screen parents. A wonderful film. (4)

Trivia note: It's interesting (to me, at least) how involuntary bodily functions play such a big part in bringing lovers together - or pulling them apart - in Lubitsch films. In That Uncertain Feeling it was hiccups. Here it's sneezing.

***

And this is the Pixar short playing before Toy Story 3:



*SOME SPOILERS*
SHORT: Day & Night (Teddy Newton, 2010) is moralistic and a little light on laughs, but boasts some tremendous animation. The plot, such as it is, features cartoonish blobs representing day and night, who show one another just what they can do - namely showcase the very best of their respective worlds. The first is big on scantily-clad sunbathers; the other displays Vegas all lit-up. Eventually the familiar-looking blobs (I can't place them) learn to overcome their fear and prejudice, and understand the other, leading to a satisfying wrap-up. Mid-range Pixar, but we've been spoiled lately, to be honest. (3)

Douglas Sirk plays it for laughs - Reviews #40

I'll be honest, there are a lot of SPOILERS in this review. I even mention the final scene.

Has Anybody Seen My Gal (Douglas Sirk, 1952) is a winning comedy from the soon-to-be master of romantic melodrama, Douglas Sirk, who went on to make the smash-hit "women's pictures" Magnificent Obsession and All That Heaven Allows. Just as those films pack a notable satirical bite, so Has Anybody Seen My Gal has a few choice things to say about greed and the worship of money, even if Sirk gets his message across in an overly broad manner. Charles Coburn, who could do "crustily avuncular" like no-one else in Hollywood, plays a multi-millionaire with a novel idea about what do with his will. Having made his fortune after losing the only girl he ever loved, he resolves to give the money to the late woman's family: daughter Lynn Bari, her husband Larry Gates - who runs a grocery store - and their likeable children, Piper Laurie, William Reynolds and Gigi Perreau. But he wants to make doubly sure he's doing the right thing, and inveigles his way into their household posing as a surrealist painter.

The film is extremely entertaining and the scriptwriters generally make the right decisions within scenes, knowing when to play for laughs (almost always), when to deliver a little jolt of emotion (like Coburn seeing a portrait of his lost love) and when to curtail an encounter. It's also genuinely funny, with Coburn an absolute joy as the film's good-hearted centre, alternately omniscient and naive. The scenes where he's reprimanded by judge Paul Harvey for supposed immorality are particularly strong and there's a hilarious, ridiculous sequence in which the paternal old cove is accused of necking with young woman Laurie in a cinema that's masterfully-handled. Coburn, in career-best form, also generates an easy chemistry with both the wide-eyed, red-headed Laurie (later of The Hustler, Carrie and Return to Oz) and the charming Perreau, who reminds me of Margaret O'Brien. Being a Douglas Sirk film, this one looks absolutely great, while it's also significant in movie history as the director's first teaming with frequent collaborator Rock Hudson (playing Laurie's soda jerk boyfriend) and for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it turn from James Dean as a kid ordering a soda. That's if it takes you 10 seconds to blink.

But the film falls short of greatness in several ways. The narrative, which sees Bari turn into a nouveau riche monster, is apt to offend people of all political persuasions, with the idea that money is evil being a socialist concept and the suggestion that poor people can't handle the paper stuff an old-fashioned right-wing one. There's also the problem of Bari's character, who is crucial to our investment in the story. Familiar as the "other woman" from countless Fox films of the '30s and early-'40s, the actress is poorly-cast in a badly-written role and delivers a one-dimensional and unsympathetic performance. Though the '20s setting is enthusiastically utilised, it's also a little synthetic, while little jokes about rising prices and changing fashions are largely meaningless today to all those without a PhD in early-20th century American history. Perhaps most frustratingly, the film ends in an unorthodox manner that doesn't suit the material, taking the peculiar decision to keep the identity of Coburn's millionaire a secret. A climactic unmasking has obvious comic and dramatic potential, but instead all we get is Coburn walking down the street and out of his adopted family's lives.

Has Anybody Seen My Gal is top entertainment, powered by Charles Coburn's lovely performance and packed with good jokes. But it's let down by the simplistic, slightly negative central message, Bari's weak characterisation and a refusal to play ball with its audience, which would have turned this period piece into prime Americana. (3)

Trivia note: The film's title refers to a '20s hit, sung here by a bunch of kids at a soda fountain. It's one of several tunes tossed into the mix, apparently at random.