A Streetcar Named Desire

I have an Elia Kazan dvd box set, but I started watching this movie, and I though “well, this looks so bad” so I aborted and bought a bluray version instead. Which I’m watching now. And… it looks better? But it still looks pretty odd, so I guess Kazan was going for that “everything looks kinda occluded” look? I mean “only use natural lighting”. (Well, I guess there’s nothing actually “natural” about his lighting, but there isn’t a lot of it.)

I’ve seen this movie at least a couple times before, probably on TV in the 80s, and I remember really liking it as a teenager, so I was exited to watch it now with better visuals, but I guess not. But I’m still exited!

UH-OH!

I’d totally forgotten the plot of this movie…

Wow. There are black people in New Orleans.

Whodathunk.

What a goof. Is he supposed to be developmentally challenged? I think I missed that when I saw this movie last time.

Couldn’t they have gotten a prettier baby!?

This movie is as terrific as I remembered. Is Stanley Kowalsky the most evil character in the history of movies? Has the Anti Polish Defamation League protested this movie? Or what?

It’s not a perfect movie by any means, but it’s pretty amazing.

A Streetcar Named Desire. Elia Kazan. 1951.

Quelques veuves de Noirmoutier

This is a documentary made for TV, and it’s got a simple concept (as is often the case with Varda’s movies) — she interviews a bunch of widows who all live on the same little island.

They talk about their (dead) husbands and their lives and stuff. It’s pretty interesting.

And as usual with Varda, she doesn’t do “verité” but lets people present themselves as they prefer.

This is a really strong documentary — and it’s really touching. (Have plenty of mouchoirs ready.) But it’s also funny and endearing.

Quelques veuves de Noirmoutier. Agnès Varda. 2006.

And… I think this might be the last Varda movie in this box set? (I may be wrong and there might be a couple more shorts after this…) But in an case, let’s have a look at the box.

It’s got two covers, one with young Varda and one with old Varda.

The format is unusual as DVD box sets go — it’s an awkward size: Not so large that it becomes A Thing, but large enough that it’s not a cute little thing, either. If that makes any kind of sense.

The blu rays are housed in a cardboard book, and lists the major movies on each disc.

And there’s an accompanying book with essays and stuff.

There’s even stuff on the inside of the box!

So — it’s a kind of neat box, and… it’s exhausting! I mean… I love Varda’s movies, so I’m the kind of person that has to, by gum, watch everything on every disc. And there’s so much stuff! It’s wonderful!

What I’m saying is: I wish every director could have as fabulous box as this, but I probably didn’t watch it in the optimal way: When I start watching something like this, I feel a compulsion to be done with it before I start on the next thing? It makes no sense: I could sensibly watch one of these discs per year or whatever, but instead I ploughed through and watched it all, and for each hour of her “main movies”, there were (at least) two hours of shorts, documentaries and commentaries.

And I guess the reason that it’s possible to make a box set like this is because Varda had her own production company for most of her life (Ciné Tamaris), so she owned the rights to her own movies. And she was also interested in revisiting her movies, so when a new DVD edition was released, she sometimes made a documentary about that movie; seeing what had happened in the intervening years. And it’s fascinating stuff, much of it.

Compare with Criterion’s Bergman box — which is (physically) twice the size, but is not complete, and does not exhaustively include every TV appearance and discussion etc…

Er… did I have a point here? Uhm. Probably not. I have to make dinner now.

Une minute pour une image

This is a series of very short films (I think they’re a bit longer than the announced “one minute”, though), each one about one photograph.

Varda does the “this makes me think of” school of commentary — we don’t learn a lot about how each photo was done (or about who did them)…

Some of these are more interesting than others, and I guess seen separately (shown randomly on TV, perhaps?) would be fun. But seen as a single 26 minute short, it’s hard to keep paying attention.

Oh, there were 170 of these? Wow.

Une minute pour une image. Agnès Varda. 1983.