Criterion Review #7: The Adventures of Zatoichi

The Adventures of Zatoichi (1964)

Like many good samurai movies, this one starts with our hero coming into town.  At first, Zatoichi seems to be a kind, harmless blind man.  His off-hand joke in the first scene of the movie lets us know he has a sense of humor about his disability, as does his interaction with the children whose kite falls in his face.  Perhaps this slight disturbance serves as foreshadowing for the event that follows: a suspicious man asks him to deliver a note into town.  At once we sense that this will send our protagonist into harm's way and entangle him in a web of danger.

However, if, like the corrupt town authorities he will eventually face, we underestimated Zatoichi, he soon surprises us with his swift movements and adept swordsmanship.  Secretly we knew he would be this good, but Zatoichi's disarming manner brought down our defenses.  The movie carefully reveals Zatoichi's capabilities, building to his frightening and merciless killings at the end of the film.

Though Zatoichi is clearly a good and virtuous person, as evidenced by his selfless desire to help a young woman in trouble, he has a weakness for sake and gambling.  In one tense scene, we first glimpse the skill which Zatoichi has the power to wield.  As he plays a game of dice, he quickly unsheathes his sword as the dice come down.  The dealer lifts his cup to find the dice split in two, and then Zatoichi swiftly chops off the man's tuft of hair.  He takes the man's tuft, fishes around, and finds the real dice which the dealer had swapped.

The movie is constantly surprising and pleasurable to watch.  Though it seems inevitable that Zatoichi will upend any dangerous situation which comes his way, the film and the main actor likewise upend our expectations of how it will happen.  The popular screenwriting phrase "surprising, yet inevitable" comes to mind... we know the genre, we know the tropes, we know the arc.  Watching it unfold remains an indelible experience.

Criterion Review #6: The 47 Ronin

The 47 Ronin (1941)

Honor, Revenge, and Sacrifice.  These are the values which drive at the hearts of the Ronin who are left "masterless" after their Lord Asano draws his sword against Lord Kira at a ceremonial event on sacred grounds.  Because Lord Asano hastily attacked Lord Kira without careful consideration of the time and place, he is ordered to commit harakiri and to sacrifice his house to royalty.  His retinue of Ronin, left without a home or master, express bitterness at the unfair verdict: Lord Asano must die, while Lord Kira remains unpunished.  The Ronin all agree that, according to samurai code, revenge must be had.

Though most of the Ronin seem hot-blooded and eager to exact revenge, the leader Oishi asks them to be patient and to place their trust in him.  Out of the 300 Ronin, only 46 remain.  However, Oishi keeps his thoughts to hiimself and leaves the Ronin to wonder if he is intent on carrying out revenge.  After 6 months and still no word, the Ronin get restless, and one even tries to sneak into an event and kill Kira himself, only to be stopped by the Lord of the House, himself a samurai.   

What is Oishi waiting for?  On the surface, it seems as if Oishi has lost his will for revenge.  Every night he partakes in all manner of debauchery.  His wife leaves him to return to her hometown.  Even his oldest son says he will depart with the other samurai to meet up in Edo and discuss their options.

Of course, we know that Oishi's act is a ruse, a careful waiting game he plays to find the exact right moment to strike.  A quick killing is not the goal; Oishi wants a perfect revenge which will not leave the samurai with any regrets or feelings of dissatisfaction.

This is the theme of the movie: that even revenge is a moral code which should be taken seriously, and has a right way and a wrong way.  A samurai always abides by the samurai code -- a virtuous, ethical path which requires patience and wisdom.

The film itself feels as if it abides by the samurai code.  It is patient, wise, strong and true.  After the 46 Ronin kill Lord Kira, which happens off-screen, we are ready for the film to end.  However, the film follows the samurai as they wait in captivity for their judgment and ultimate penalties: death by harakiri.  There is even a love story that surfaces in these last 30 minutes, between one of the younger samurai and a young woman who he promised to marry as a way to gain access to Lord Kira.  Did he want to marry her because he loved her, or did he just use her to get to Kira?

She comes on the eve of their deaths.  This is the final test for Oishi.  At first, he tells the woman to go away so that the young samurai can prepare himself to die.  He tells her that sometimes, a lie is necessary in service of a good.  However, she challenges him.  Is it okay to hurt a person in order to achieve a selfish need?  All she wants to know is if the young samurai actually loved her.

Oishi comes to his senses and calls the young samurai in, who admits that he in fact did love the young woman, but did what he had to so that they could carry out their revenge.  The woman, satisfied by this knowledge, commits harakiri as the samurais head to their deaths.  She becomes the 47th Ronin.

















What do we sacrifice when we follow what we feel is the right thing to do?  The Ronin sacrifice their lives, but never their code.  The film shows us that to sacrifice the right means to get to the desired end will rob us of our honor and our eternal peace.

   

Criterion Review #5: The 400 Blows

The 400 Blows (1959)

What is there to say that hasn't been said?  The film is sublime, perfect.  What I noticed this time was how upbeat it remained even as our main character has one misfortune handed him after another.  The spirit of the film (thanks to the wonderful score) is so tender, so full of mischief and wonder, even as the situations become tougher.  This is an autobiographical film, based on Truffaut's childhood experiences.  He seemed to remain in that realm for the rest of his career, and life.  He was tuned in to how it feels to be a child, and had unending empathy and respect for them.  This is such a delightful and humanistic film.  See it.

Criterion Review #4: 21 Days

21 Days (1940)

21 Days (or 21 Days Together) is a quick, to-the-point romantic thriller (is that a genre?) about a young man who comes back from his failed attempts at farming, only to kill a man accidentally, and then turn to his older brother for help.  His brother, it just so happens, is a very successful lawyer who is vying for a position as a judge in the British high court.  However unlikely this set-up, the film utilizes the disparity between the brothers to investigate issues of class, morality, and the justice system to pleasing results.

I forgot to mention that the film is also a love story.  Larry Durrant (Lawrence Olivier) is a young, aimless gent who has just returned to his hometown to find his girl, Wanda (Vivian Leigh), and start life over.  He meets her on the street, they go out for drinks, and then return to her place.  But when they get there, a surprise awaits: a man who claims to be Wanda's husband tells Larry that if he wants her, he'll have to pay.  A fight ensues, Larry accidentally kills the man and then dumps him in an alley that night.  However, on his way back home, Larry runs into a homeless man, who engages him in conversation.  Larry drops his gloves, the homeless man picks them up, and is then picked up himself, suspected of committing the murder.

Meanwhile, Larry turns to his brother Keith (Leslie Banks), a man of supposed high moral scruples but also one who exhibits a noticeable amount of arrogance and entitlement.  Keith, though he looks down on his brother, decides to help cover Larry's tracks, and when the homeless man gets picked up for the crime, Keith sees the perfect opportunity to allow Larry's escape.

But what about the homeless man?  Larry and the man connected on that fateful night, as the man confessed to having lost his self-respect -- he actually stole money off the dead body.  Why did he do it?  The money was not his and he should not have taken it.  However, the man admits that the incident oddly helped him regain his self-respect.  By taking the money, the homeless man realized that it was wrong, that it was beneath him, thereby restoring his self-respect.

Larry, having empathized with this man, sees that he cannot let the man take the blame.  Keith tries to convince Larry that the man will not be convicted as there is a lack of evidence, but the man does not help his case when he decries that he is guilty of stealing the money and that it is his opinion that he should suffer.  Therefore, Larry decides to ignore Keith's advice, and if the man is convicted of murder, Larry will turn himself in after the 21 days between the arrest and the jury's decision.

Larry and Wanda spend the next 21 days as if they are the last they will ever spend together.  Though they plan to marry and be together forever, Larry seems to know that he will have to turn himself in.  When, at the end of the 21 days, the man is found guilty, Larry leaves Wanda to go to the police.

The thematic crux and climax of the movie is the scene in which Keith tries to stop Larry from turning himself in.  Keith would rather the homeless man take the blame, because if Larry were to confess, Keith's chance of scoring the position as judge would be ruined.  In this one moment, it is clear who the morally superior of the two men are.  One is completely willing to sacrifice himself to do the right thing, and the other is willing to do the wrong thing in order to save himself.

By giving us this moment, the film points out the contradictions in society and the justice system.  On the surface,  Larry and the homeless man are lower class petty thieves, and Keith is not only an upstanding citizen, but a man who holds power in distributing justice.  However, though they may have been thieves in the past, Larry and the homeless man are men who think about what is right and are willing to suffer for their wrongdoings.  Meanwhile, Keith is shown to be morally weak -- he is willing to cheat and lie in order to get ahead.

What is the film saying about the classes, then?  Do the poor stay poor because they are too self-sacrificing?  Do the rich climb the ladder because they are inherently self-serving, no matter the consequence?

The film ends happily, and yet we cannot shake the questions that are presented to us by the end.  For whom does Lady Justice grant salvation? 

Criterion Review #3: 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her

2 or 3 Things I Know About Her (1967)

Like many of Godard's films, 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her is a political inquiry into the relationship between the macro and the micro, between society (at large) and the individual, and of course between the bourgeoisie and the proletariat.  Specifically, this film seems to be an investigation into the connections between the city of Paris and its residents circa 1967, and a critique of consumerism and Capitalism, the residue of which can be seen in every frame of the film.  The eponymous "her" of the title refers to both the city of Paris and the protagonist, Juliette, a middle-class suburbanite who prostitutes herself for extra money.

To say that Juliette is a subject of the movie would be correct.  To say that the movie is about her would not be.  This is a movie in which the narrator asks which is more important: the main protagonist or the foliage above.  It is impossible to focus on both at once, he says.  Our narrator seems more interested in how the subject and her surroundings relate rather than he does in any kind of narrative centered around her. In one sequence, we watch swirls in a cup of coffee as the narrator speaks about the nature of one's self and one's connection to objects.


The movie seems to be commenting on the ways in which our cities and governments have gone on to do whatever they want by placating us with materials.  We no longer feel connected to one another, or have any sense of control over the big picture.  So instead, we prostitute ourselves in order to maintain a lifestyle driven by the desire for things.  In one hilarious sequence, a war correspondent watches as two prostitutes wear bags with competing airline designs over their heads.

The film ends with an image of cleaning products littering a field.  Somehow this is the perfect image to sum up the movie's themes.  Cleaning Products -- the perfect symbol of consumerism; of the consignment of women; of clean surfaces.  And yet there they are, removed from their "natural" habitat and put in an overgrown field of weeds.  How unnatural they look.  How excessive.  How surreal.

Criterion Review #2 (nostalgia)

(nostalgia) (1971)

Hollis Frampton is a name that is new to me.  He was an avant-garde artist working in the 70s and 80s until his death in 1984 at the age of 48.

(nostalgia) is a film that is part of a larger collection called Hapax Legomena.  It is 36 minutes long, and depicts a series of 12 photographs, slowly burning on a stove-top as Frampton's voice-over tells us the origins and back-stories of each.

There is, however, one twist: over each photograph, Frampton tells us the story of the next photograph, which we haven't seen yet.  Therefore, with each new photograph, we have to choose: do we listen to the story of the next photograph, so that we can recognize his descriptions when it comes along?  Or do we watch the current photograph slowly burn away into ash?  (nostalgia) seems to comment on our memories and our attempts to preserve the past: what is a photograph but a preservation of a moment?  Is it a futile attempt or a valiant one?  Should we instead focus on the present?  As we watch each photograph burn, we realize the moment in the past has been replaced with the Now.  Time moves along, and moments fade away like fire into ash...

Criterion Review #1 ...And the Pursuit of Happiness

...And the Pursuit of Happiness (1986)

This documentary by Louis Malle examines the wide range of immigrant experiences in America in the 1980s, told through interviews and Malle's own occasional commentary.  The scope of the film is impressive.  Malle interviews a Costa Rican astronaut working for NASA, a Vietnamese doctor living in Nebraska, an Ethiopian working for Texas Instruments, several Mexican immigrants as they attempt to cross the border, a West Indian poet, an Indian motel owner and his family, and a deposed Nicaraguan general, among others.

The most fascinating aspect of this documentary, besides the individuals whose stories are told, is how they are all linked under the banner of America.  What do these stories say about this country?  Watching it today, in a post-post-911 world, one cannot help but reflect upon how America has changed and yet has remained utterly the same as it was in the 80s.  Why is it, for instance, that many Indian and Asian immigrants continue to thrive in the American economic model, while Latino-Americans and African-Americans have largely been relegated to the lower classes, working the jobs on the bottom rung?  What's in a culture that determines its individuals' success rates?

Take, for example, the Ethiopian man who came to America and worked his way up from dish washer, to cab driver, to Texas Instruments employee.  Is he not proof that if you work hard enough, you can make a comfortable life for yourself in America?  Or the Indian motel owner who had nothing when he came here and now owns real estate all over San Jose?  But look again, and you will see the Mexican field worker, working just as hard with not near the success at climbing up the economic ladder. 
  
As the first interviewee says, many immigrants "come with a lot of dreams and we work hard to fulfill them."  And most of the interviewees in the film say they love America, even when they miss their home countries or struggle to find a way to support their families.

The documentary takes no sides, but presents each person's case from a humanistic standpoint, listening to their stories, empathizing with their situations.  In the end, Malle thanks the people who agreed to be interviewed, admiring their tremendous courage.

As a White person born in this country, with no immediate relatives who were immigrants, devoid of any culture but American culture (and really, what is that?) and with all freedoms given to me straightway, the film, I'm ashamed to say, made me a little envious.  To have such immediate purpose as the immigrants who come to this country do, and to have to work so hard just to make a comfortable life for one's self.... that, in itself, seems to be its own fulfillment. 

   

Criterion on Hulu: From ...And the Pursuit of Happiness to Zorns Lemma

Ok.  Look.  I know this is impossible.  I know it is.  Because before I'm done watching all these damn movies, there will be at least 500 more added.  What are the rules?  The conditions?  Let's just say this: Starting today, June 22nd, 2013, the Criterion films available on Hulu Plus are the films I'm dedicated to watching.  Just these 800 or so titles.  Which means, should I get to the movie M, only to learn that Hulu has added Life During Wartime the day before, I'm NOT responsible for going back and picking it up.  There's only so much time, dammit, and I'm about to embark on a mission of utmost futility that will almost certainly end with my going insane or becoming depressed at the pointlessness of the assignment which I have handed myself.

As you can see, my last blog post was in September... almost two years ago.  To say that I'm not exactly great at maintaining my blog would be more than just an understatement.  It would be completely incorrect.  I have not kept up my blog.  This assignment, therefore, is a catalyst for a total reinvigoration of my inner-writer.  I've been neglecting this part of myself, and must, for whatever reason, break through the levee and flood the structures that have grown like weeds in my mind to block my creativity and generativeness.

So, here, in short, is my mission statement:

I will, under any and all circumstances, watch (at least) 5 criterion movies a week and write my reaction to these films.  Should I keep on this pace, I will be done watching these films in approximately... 3 1/2 years.  This is a 3 year project I'm proposing.  Holy shit.  I didn't realize I was dedicating the next 3 years of my life to this.  Oh well, it's been written.  Damn it all.

Feel free to weigh in, tell me I'm stupid, or champion me on this self-imposed exile from having a real life.

Thanks for reading.

Best,
McGG