Baxter, Vera Baxter

I’m so confused right now… I’ve seen this movie before, but wasn’t it in black and white? Er…

No! I’m thinking of Nathalie Granger, which also has Depardieu, but Jeanne Mureau and not Delphine Seyrig. D’oh.

This one has a kick-ass soundtrack by Carlos d’Alessio, just like India Song.

OK, I’d forgotten that the soundtrack is basically just the one song that’s looped over and over again? At least it’s been going for half an hour now.

This song. Which is great, but… an odd choice!

I remember liking this movie more than I do this time around. The problem is, I think, that neither of the actors who have spent most time on the screen — Noëlle Châtelet and Claudine Gabay — are delivering thrilling performances.

And the text… it seems so much less thought through than India Song, for instance. It’s more realistic, and more trivial.

Man, that’s some fireplace.

Heh, Delphine Seyrig’s character is called L’inconnue. OK, now it makes more sense that she’s not in any shots with other actors… I thought it was just because she’d been filmed on a day where nobody else were present. Didn’t even have time to take her coat off…

Which, I guess, may still be true.

*gasp* She’s in the frame with somebody else!

The movie is “about” renting this house — and it’s an exquisitely ugly house. Salmon-coloured wall-to-wall carpeting and these monstrous leather chairs… Those huge windows along with the blown-out shots… I think I understand why it is this way, but it’s sure not easy on the eyes.

Which would have helped with this dialogue.

Oh, the music is diegetic, as the kids say. The music is coming from an (ambulatory?) party? So it grows and ebbs in volume, but is always present.

Uhm… I like the movie — I mean, the general feel of the movie. But it doesn’t quite work? It’s basically a conversation, and what they’re talking about seems so trivial. My mind kept wandering… perhaps it’s a totes fascinating movie if I were concentrating more?

But no, I don’t think the movie really works.

Baxter, Vera Baxter. Marguerite Duras. 1977.

India Song

This is probably the movie I’ve watched the most times… and now there’s a 2K restoration from Criterion, so now I’m watching it again.

I usually type these things while I’m watching the movies, whenever I’m bored or something, but once again, I was so enthralled by this movie that I watched the entire thing without typing a single thing, so I’m writing this after the fact.

These are very day-for-nightish day-for-night shots, eh?

Some directors, like Chantal Akerman, has had a real rediscovery thing going on over the past few years. Even Claire Denis, I guess, although she’s still doing movies — her films have also gotten more attention. Marguerite Duras’ movies? Not really, but it’s good that this movie (and Baxter, Very Baxter) have at least been restored.

The last time I watched this was on a very grainy DVD — and this restoration is very nicely done, but is a lot less gritty than it used to be.

I guess one of the attractions of this movie is that we’re watching people, and then on the soundtrack we’re mostly listening to people gossiping about the people we’re watching.

The other major selling point is the soundtrack.

India Song (Thème, piano)

That’s like such a fantastic song. It seems like one of those songs that have always existed, like an Erik Satie tune…

India Song - Richard Jobson

Oh, if you want to know the plot of this film, you can just listen to this Richard Jobson track from The Fruit of the Original Sin. I had the album when I was like fourteen, so I’d listened to the story dozens and dozens of times before I saw the movie for the first time.

My only problem with this movie is the casting of the French vice-consul (from Lahore). I mean, he’s supposed to be a tragic nerd, but still… couldn’t they have found a better actor!?

I mean, just look at the way he holds his cigarette! That’s awful!

I should get more mirrors for my living room.

That’s what I want my apartment to look like!

Anyway, fantastic movie. I loved it even more this time around, possibly.

India Song . Marguerite Duras. 1975.

The Furies

This is a 2K version from Criterion, but the restoration is… odd? Like, the titles had a lot of sideways judder, and some scenes seem inexplicably dark… but perhaps they were that way to start with?

Err… I think that used to be a Hazel Flagg post? But now it’s something else? The ways of Twitter are inscrutable. But it’s the reason I’m watching this.

Where’s the RSPCA!?

Huh, the blu-ray package is very thick…

Oh! It includes an entire novel!?

That’s new.

Nooo! Quicksand! The most lethal substance on Earth!

This movie is just odd. There’s strange continuity problems, and the plot is just… odd.

Wat

*scratches head*

Sure sure she’s suddenly in love with this guy… but why!? He’s not shown to have any qualities, and whoever cast this actor in this role didn’t do a good job, because it’s just “wat”.

See?

I mean, if it had been, like, Clark Gable or something, it’d have made some kind of sense, but as it is, this bit just seems to tell the audience that the Stanwyck character is … stupid?

Which I don’t think is supposed to be the thing.

That’s an odd way to frame this scene. And what’s with that flare at the edge? Did they just mess it up and couldn’t re-shoot the paper maché boulder falling?

It’s just an odd, odd, movie.

Very day for night.

Excel(lent).

So weird.

Why is so much of this movie filmed in apparent semi-darkness? I mean, it’s a look, but…

I’m back to my original theory — that something went wrong during restoration.

In a way I admire the sheer weirdness of the plot. I mean, it’s not a standard western? And that’s fun? But I don’t think the movie works. Mann was known for B movie noirs, but in 1950 he did three (!) westerns, and you can definitely see that. I mean, both the noir background and that the movie was done in a hurry.

The lines are just preposterous, and while Stanwyck does a great job chewing the scenery, none of the other actors are compelling, really.

I think this is one of those rediscovered masterpieces that might as well have remained forgotten.

The Furies. Anthony Mann. 1950.