La Vie en Rose (La môme) (2007)

dir. Olivier Dahan
writ. Olivier Dahan and Isabelle Sobelman
feat. Marion Cotillard, Sylvie Testud, Pascal Gregory, Emmanuelle Seigner, Jean-Paul Roeve, Gerard Depardieu

While Marion Cotillard is stunning in the role of Edith Piaf (even when the caked-on aging makeup distracts) and Tetsuo Nagata's cinematography is wonderfully dark, dense and inviting, La Vie en Rose sadly falls into the same dull pitfalls of most biopics, with the filmmakers struggling to hammer a life into a dramatic movie arc.

It rolls by like a checklist from the biopic handbook -
Begin in sickly late life
Flash back to street urchin youth
Dash of bad parenting, but loving father, if not wholly responsible
Charming youth with show of great talent
Savior figure steps in, preferably a big star near-cameo
Training with a strict but well-meaning mentor
Success
Love story, preferably with conflict, perhaps married man
Tragedy - death, illness, etc.
Poignant return to old age, death, perhaps prophetic/ageless sentiment

It's all there, so hop on board. Try not to pay too much attention to the formula or the frequently uninventive way in which these familiar scenes play out.

Still, the film is decent entertainment, even willing to portray faults in Piaf's character (though her need to surround herself in luxury feels like a pat neediness of one who escapes poverty). However, it's hard to escape that checklist feeling and the complete lack of creative inspiration for Piaf. Perhaps, she merely sang her way out of the gutter, the music simply a means to an end, but one would think she had some love for the it, a connection that never surfaces in the picture.

Primal Fear (1996)

dir. Gregory Hoblit
writ. Steve Shagan and Ann Biderman from novel by William Diehl
feat. Richard Gere, Ed Norton, Frances McDormand, Laura Linney, John Mahoney

Expectations endanger all movie viewing. On rare occasions they can work to one's advantage. I remember my impression that Lawrence of Arabia was going to be a Ben-Hur studio era epic and being blown away by how completely wrong I was. But this little picture, Primal Fear, had stayed on my radar since it came out, always toted as a decent flick with a notable Ed Norton performance. And anyone with an ever-growing list of films to see will understand the satisfaction in clearing a title from the memory by finally bringing it up on the screen.

And so it was that I permitted this disc into my home and player, only to find a heaping pile of garbage spewed out before me. If the ages of the actors weren't verifiable, I would have thought this was a mid to late-80s film with its symphonic soundtrack, douchebag lawyers, churchy sex scandal, and double identity clincher. Really?! People thought this was good entertainment in the mid-90s? And I suppose it wasn't predictable then either. Yes, Norton is convincing and enjoyable to watch, mainly for the 5 cumulative minutes when he plays the "bad guy," but I prefer there to be at least 15 watchable minutes in a feature film.

Gere is trademark arrogant obnoxious. Linney is ripening for her stock role as the aging, wronged, barely-sympathetic woman. And Mahoney is simply wasted as a single-faceted, ho-hum, politician-crook.

If you're lucky enough not to have seen this yet, consider yourself lucky and do not waste your time.

Death by Hanging (Koshikei) (1968)

dir. Nagisa Oshima
writ. Michinori Fukao, Nagisa Oshima, Mamoru Sasaki, Tsutomu Tamura
feat. Kei Sato, Fumio Watanabe, Toshiro Ishido, Masao Adachi, Rokko Toura, Hosei Komatsu, Masao Matsuda, Akiko Kayama, Do-yun Yu

This relentless film begins with the narrator (Oshima) relating the fact that 71% of people surveyed support the death penalty before leading the viewer into the rarely seen chamber where executions are carried out. The jarringly swift delivery from statistics to the rope snapping around the convict's neck is upset when the intended victim fails to die. The unprecedented occurrence throws the room into chaos, everyone unsure how to proceed, and changes the course of the film from a noirish crime thriller to the darkest of comedies.

As the prison officials attempt to remind the now-amnesiac prisoner of his crimes, in order to induce his guilt and reaffirm their right to kill him, the priest asserts that the man is no longer himself after last rites have been performed upon him, his soul now gone from his body. The guards attempt to reenact rape and murder in hilarious skits that garner no reaction from the serene man.

In the subsequent madness of blustering officials stampeding around the confined space, Oshima manages to effectively question a host of notions including identity, sanity, the treatment of Koreans in Japan, and the right of one man to judge another. More pointedly, the complexity of life, the source of and responsibility for one's actions and reactions, and the distance with which people often view violence are explored as the plot begins to meander, drifting in and out of fantasy, making it even harder to distinguish reality and the slippery concept of guilt.

The Sun's Burial (Taiyo no hakaba) (1960)

dir. Nagisa Oshima
writ. Nagisa Oshima, Toshiro Ishido
feat. Masahiko Tsugawa, Kayoko Hanoo, Isao Sasaki, Fumio Watanabe

Oshima offers a grim and unsettling portrayal of slum life in this raggedly paced film. Residents trade in blood, selling to a black market via underground labs, with shifting alliances occasionally upsetting the business. A persistent aura of distrust permeates daily life as former friends quickly become traitors for a bigger cut of the action.

Takeshi (Sasaki) is too soft for this world where one needs to keep moving "like a top" or risk falling over and tossed aside permanently. The dubious patriot thinks war is the answer, a condition that brings clear purpose and the inevitable demand for employment, inviting an uneasy comparison to Mother Courage. But like everyone else in the slum, he's willing to sell out his buddies, quick to betray his noble stance. Poverty creates a cycle here, eventually coming round to destroy anything that has been developed (hope, trust, romance) and start over again.

Blonde Crazy (1931)

dir. Roy Del Ruth
writ. Kubec Glasmon & John Bright
feat. James Cagney, Joan Blondell, Louis Calhern, Noel Francis, Ray Milland, Guy Kibbee

This delightful pre-code romp splits Jimmy Cagney between his two common guises of song and dance man and conniving crook, the former yearning to be the latter with a beautifully snide Joan Blondell as his foil. Anne (Blondell) outmaneuvers Bert's (Cagney) initial bellhop advances, steering them into the makings of a con man duo ready to take the show on the road.

Given Anne's unwillingness to be wooed by Bert's clumsy attempts, he grows cagey, no longer seeing her as a viable object of affection, despite their playful, loving relationship. This sets into motion an unusual love story amidst the comedic set pieces, their relationship waffling between romance, cameraderie, and a mother-son dynamic. The film even seems to sincerely question if the relationship can work at all, nearing a perfect tragic peak with Bert reluctantly accepting that the two just won't survive as a couple. And though the picture steers toward a more acceptable Hollywood ending, the filmmakers deserve credit for even introducing such potential unsolvable conflict.

High Sierra (1951)

dir. Raoul Walsh
writ. John Huston and W.R. Burnett from Burnett's novel
feat. Humphrey Bogart, Ida Lupino, Alan Curtis, Arthur Kennedy, Joan Leslie, Henry Hull, Henry Travers

In this early major role for Bogart, he plays Roy "Mad Dog" Earle, a tough con freshly cut loose from prison to pull a heist for an associate. Roy laments his criminal life, dreaming of a new start, his eyes on Velma (Leslie), a young crippled girl who he'd love to heal and marry, sharing her supposed innocence for the rest of their days. Naturally, life has other plans for Roy as he awaits the day of the caper, fending off advances by Marie (Lupino), a more sensible match, but representative of the world he plans to leave behind. Though the healing process proceeds remarkably well, Velma doesn't love her savior the way he'd like and is prone to typical youthful diversions such as drinking, dancing, and men closer to he age.

Mad Dog's fantasies slowly crumble as he goes on the lam, eventually forced to live up to his appointed moniker, abandoning even Marie to make a final stand. At its best, High Sierra examines the criminal as a victim of society, unable to truly reform, not given the chance to be a good man again. Roy is strong, smart, and reliable, but also a crook. The idealistic path he attempts shows his own naivete and doomed from the start, while his option for a loyal love in Marie goes unheeded. On paper, Roy makes a powerful tragic figure and Bogart has the role knocked, but something fails to gel in the disparate parts, the chemistry that makes a great film never materializing even with a strong turn by Lupino.

Les enfants teribles (1950)

dir. Jean-Pierre Melville
writ. Jean-Pierre Melville (writer), Jean Cocteau (story and screenplay)
feat. Nicole Stephane, Edouard Dermithe, Renee Cosima, Jacques Bernard, Melvyn Martin

Teenage siblings Elisabeth and Paul (Stephane and Dermithe) turn their rivalry into a combination of a competition for the greatest love and a death duel. Holing up in their room, having abandoned the outside world, they let everything else die as they spar. They invite outsiders to join the game only to mock them or grow jealous when feelings develop that threaten the bond between the two.

Michael (Martin) breezes through as the American dream, foreign and hopeful, yet unsustainable, even if a lingering provider. But the game can't survive the move to the mansion, where the expansive halls destroy the power of proximity, upsetting the spell between Lise and Paul, leaving them room to dream independently. Still, with their dreams too well bound and Paul too weak to break free on his own, the duel can only escalate to its inevitable end.

Melville brings his edge to Cocteau's horror fantasy of paranoid youth. Critics who discount Melville's contribution, giving directing credit to Cocteau, miss the teeth and the cold distance also found in other Melville works. Still, the film does hint at some conflict between creators, the dream world insufficiently transporting, less seductive than one would hope.