La carte de la race

La Fille du RER (The girl on the train)

(2009)

Jeanne and Franck meet Breathless cute, on rollerblades, and while we, and her mother (Catherine Deneuve) suspect there's something not quite on the up & up with him, Jeanne doesn't want to know. So when the inevitable occurs, she concocts a half-baked story about being the victim of an anti-Semitic attack (though she's not Jewish) on the Paris suburban transit. Why? For love, for attention, for control over her own narrative.

A weirdly engaging story, quintessentially French in its messily intersecting plotlines and its contempt for easy moral stances.

Night and day

The Gay Divorcee

(1934)

Have I mentioned that I didn't really like this much the first time I saw it? I'd say I was young and couldn't really be expected to know any better, but in fact I was at least 30. Though in my defense, one of my complaints was about the interminable "Continental" production number, transparently thrown in to pad the running time and postpone the obvious resolution of the plot, such as it is, and that is such a legitimate complaint that in fact I am writing this during that number.

Still . . . Just: still . . .

The mark of Xorro

Damsels in Distress

Crit

It's Whit Stillman's long-awaited science fiction movie, set on a distant planet whose inhabitants have evolved exactly like us physically but have delightfully alien notions about what college is and how the race should be preserved and perpetuated. Mumblecore goddess Greta Gerwig reaches her apotheosis (though I guess if she was already a goddess . . . well, never mind; I've been infected by the film's loopy logic) as the constitutionally philanthropic Violet, whose ambition for improving the world, naturally, is to invent an international dance craze. When she succeeds, the eponymous song is written by "Lightning Strikes Again" Lou Christie, who, it turns out, is a regular contributor to Stillman's films.

A lot of people will hate this film for reasons every bit as good as mine for loving it. That's OK: someday they'll learn their colors.

The end of Rico

Little Caesar

(1931)

Crime doesn't pay, after it does. There's not much about this that I find appealing, so it's deaccession time--let me know if you want it. Also still available: The Manchurian Candidate and Eat Drink Man Woman.

The tree and the chrysalis

Seriously? I seem to have been caught in the crossfire of the latest pissing contest between Google and Microsoft. "Your browser," I am told--that being the default browser for the vast majority of PC users--"is no longer supported by Blogger. Some parts of Blogger will not work and you may experience problems. If you are having problems, try Google Chrome." I have a better idea: why don't you try blowing me. I think maybe if I experience problems, I'll look for another blog host.

Monsieur Lazhar

Crit

Someone I saw this with commented with some heat that while it was a pleasant enough film, it was completely implausible in its presentation of a man trying to persuade a bunch of women to allow schoolchildren to confront a terrible experience. As a certified Sensitive Guy, I was a little insulted, but I uncharacteristically kept my counsel, perhaps because the speaker, far from speaking theoretically, has recent devastating experience. So I'll grant that the film may not play the emotional percentages in that respect.

Still, from my perspective, this is as beautiful a film about children and death as can be imagined: Bashir, who has immigrated from Algeria to Montreal, replaces the elementary schoolteacher who has hanged herself in her classroom. Two of her students see her, and all are traumatized by the violation of their trust and their sacred space of learning and living.

As the story proceeds, we learn that Bashir himself is motivated by a need to deal with tragedy, and even the butt of the class's jokes has his own background of ugly mortality--all, young and adult, having to deal with unjust burdens. And they all are granted some measure of grace, but no easy answers.

I want to be hurt!

Say Anything

(1989)

Well, it's not a perfect film--Ione Skye can't act a lick (though oddly, it mostly doesn't seem to matter), and that Peter Gabriel song is completely lame, and yet it remains one of the most compelling stories of young love that acknowledges that the older generation exists and matters. I guess my biggest complaint is that the first time I saw it, the rental VHS tape a friend screened included a Tracey Ullman Show-era Simpsons short--would it have killed 'em to include that on the DVD as well?

Slick hick clicks, takes licks

A Face in the Crowd

(1957)

Pre-Mayberry Andy Griffith is brilliant as a boozing, womanizing hayseed who is plucked from obscurity and makes the most of the opportunity, turning the toddling technology of television into a forum for politically conservative populism. Stunningly prescient story by Budd Schulberg includes such elements as canned laughter, the political-advertising-entertainment nexus, and, in all but the words, the sound bite as ascendant over discussion of policy. Falls down near the end with some gratuitous explanation of what we've just seen, but never for a moment seems dated.