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Reviews
Les revenants (2004)
Art house zombies, less bite more thoughtful
I liked this film, but potential genre viewers beware, this is a subtitled French film, but since I enjoy both horror films and art house movies I had little problem with its leisurely pacing. Some reviewers have commented on a lack of horror, this is true, but there are plenty of unsettling scenes and the film has a genuine sense of unease hanging over it. It takes place in a high-rise suburb of the Ile-de-France, a region of Paris. There is something of a J.G. Ballard-like feel of dislocation to the urban surroundings that matches the inability of the returned dead to fit in with the lives of their previously grieving loved ones. Similarly, as in the short story The Monkey's Paw, it is perhaps better not to have your loved ones return from the dead because they may not be quite as you'd like them to be.
It's a fascinating premise and goes to show how the zombie genre can be tweaked in to interesting new shapes. However, writer and first time director Robin Compillo does not explore the full socio-economic possibilities of the situation, let alone the potential for horror. He instead considers some of the emotional implications involved in regard to loss and wish fulfilment in relation to the returned loved ones. It might be hoped that They Came Back could kick start a new direction in the zombie genre, as a global phenomenon there are thousands of potential scenarios. However, it is unlikely this modest and thoughtful little chiller (imagine M.Night Shyamalan when he was modest and thoughtful) will have the same impact as Night of the Living Dead.
Ma 6-T va crack-er (1997)
Fascinating look at (young male) life in the Paris Projects
After learning that some brave soul (fool?)was remaking Assault on Precinct 13, a seminal movie experience from my youth, I tracked down this earlier effort from Richet because he sounded like a fascinating director. There are some clear comparisons to be made in regard to this film and Le Haine, they share the same milieu and the focus is almost exclusively on the male protagonists. However, Ma 6-T feels more like a documentary at times, the style less obvious than that of Kassovitz. When the camera follows the players on a youth centre's basket ball court, the game deteriorates in to ugly gang violence and the viewer feels like an helpless spectator on the side lines, such is the ability of Richet's camera to draw us into the drama. This long take-the film is made up of a majority of these-is the kind of cinema that Andre Bazin would applaud, however he may have been less amoured to the occasional flourish, particularly during one scene where the circular motion of the camera feels more like an homage to DePalma. Richet clearly likes his characters (he his from the Paris projects)but unlike Le Haine there is more of them and thus they are less clearly defined, making it difficult to empathize with them. He does not give them any kind of arc, allowing for a more fly on the wall feel. This approach forces the viewer to consider their plight without having to fall for the winning charms of Vincent Cassel. Are they victims of society or just a bunch of losers? There is some suggestion that they are both, the few women portrayed in the film have jobs or are trying to better themselves, or more tellingly represent authority figures, like the female head teacher and police woman. The male characters just seem to complain about their lot without ever doing much about it, brilliantly conveyed during one scene by two of them pondering why they are sitting at a bus stop. Some of them talk of revolution but are more interested in their turf wars between rival project gangs, rather than joining together for a real class war. A riot seems to be the only possible conclusion but the film is bookended by the images of a women and a girl, presumably her daughter, raising arms. Is the future in the arms of the women? Perhaps so, because regardless of the obvious intelligence of the male characters, they are all oozing too much testosterone to care too much about the future and seem to enjoy a pretty vacant and violent now. This film gives me hope for the forthcomimg remake of Assault on Precincr 13, lets hope that Richet can apply as much intelligence to the remake as he did to this engrossing sophomore effort.
To Live and Die in L.A. (1985)
I used to think this was a good film, but I'm all better now
I have some fond memories of this film from my teenage years. I remember being shocked when William Peterson's character is killed toward the end. That car chase? Boy, hot stuff! Peterson's character Chance, edgy dude! DaFoe's Master's; cool villain! The lesbian undertones really got my pulse racing...I really used to think that this was a good film, but I'm all better now. Where to begin with what is wrong with this movie? OK, hackneyed plot device: Chance's partner has three days left before retirement, will he pick up his pension? Hey, what about that name: Chance, 'cause he takes risks! Sooo existential. Hmmm...The crooks chasing Chance and Vukovich after they kidnap (unwittingly) the FBI man just happen to pull up at the point on the bridge above exactly where they are, good guess guys! That ******* score!! One of the worst scores ever? Cast your vote now! It often has no relevance to what it is underscoring, like an uninvited guest. There are myriad other things wrong, but I wanted to say something a little positive. Robby Muller's cinematography captures an L.A. that could have equalled the almost noirish city presence that Michael Mann achieves in Heat. Yet William Friedkin manages to squander his talents. Is this the same man who used Owen Roizman to show us the seedy underbelly of New York and the horror behind the bourgeois facade of Georgetown? (Not to mention the unforgettable opening Iraq sequence in The Exorcist, shot by Billy Williams, one of the greatest opening acts in film, I would argue.) If, like myself you liked this film when you first saw it, I would recommend that you never view it again and hold to those fond and distant memories. It must be said, however, that it wasn't a completely unenjoyable experience. My wife and I had a fine time pulling it to bits and laughing at the inept dialogue. Unfortunately, she still thinks that my taste in movies sucks.
Vendredi soir (2002)
How boring could one film be?
After the disappointment of Trouble Everyday (just tell me what that one was all about?) I was hoping for a return to form from Denis after the beguiling and quite beautiful Beau travail. The film starts well with a series of stunning shots of Paris at dusk. The story unfolds at first interestingly enough as Laure finds herself trapped in Paris, slightly uncertain of her future and then, hey, she jumps into bed with a stranger and discovers that life is going to be just great with her partner and is reborn as she runs down the empty Paris streets. OK, so its it a little more complex than that, but really not by much. It seems quite difficult to identify with Laure, Denis clearly likes her as a character but she appears too enigmatic to care for. Jean represents a clichéd image of Gallic masculinity that seems miles away from the complexities of Galoup in in Beau Travail. In the end it's just a look at bourgeois angst that left me completely bored.
Saving Private Ryan (1998)
Puts you there on the beach but something doesn't feel quite right
There is no doubt that Spielberg is a superb director of actors and action. The opening section of this film left me breathless and disturbed. The scene with the collapsing wall and the German soldiers with the ensuing Mexican stand off is nail biting. Similarly, the final battle sequence is deftly choreographed. Some fine character scenes linger in the mind, as when the soldiers listen to Edith Piaf while waiting for the Germans. However, if this is war as Hell/absurd/confusing it is also war as boys own adventure. Where are the politics? Historical context? Are we really expected to believe that in a huge theatre of war a group of soldiers would be allowed to wander around in search of one man? Compare Ryan to The Thin Red Line. You want to consider what Malick might have to say about war with his use of rich images that linger in the mind long after the end of the film. With Spielberg I was left largely with the memory of the opening and closing scenes.