I continue with the journey I started yesterday, nominating the candidates for the 20th century Venus of Urbino. Today I present Monica Vitti, Faye Dunaway and Catherine Deneuve.

The axiom that guides this contribution is that what makes the Urbino Venus unique and classical is her ambivalence and unpredictability. We have to do in a sense with a naked Mona Lisa, only in this case the whole body is the protagonist of the posture, not just the mouth and the eyes.

Monica Vitti

Waiting for Godot…

A pensive look in the mirror

Que sera sera!

Faye Dunaway

I knew I was overdressed!

May you go quiet into the night

Elegance

Catherine Deneuve

She has been a beauty since her early days

In front of Helmut Newton’s lens she is the captivating eternal beauty.

I can spend a whole life looking at her without wanting to look at anything else!

As an epilogue to part 2, I remind everyone the lyrics of the song from the Umbrellas of Cherbourg.

I Will Wait For You (Norman Gimbel/ Jacques Demy/ Michel Legrand)

If it takes forever I will wait for you
For a thousand summers I will wait for you
Till you’re back beside me, till I’m holding you
Till I hear you sigh here in my arms

Anywhere you wander, anywhere you go
Every day remember how I love you so
In your heart believe what in my heart I know
That forevermore I’ll wait for you

The clock will tick away the hours one by one
Then the time will come when all the waiting’s done
The time when you return and find me here and run
Straight to my waiting arms

If it takes forever I will wait for you
For a thousand summers I will wait for you
Till you’re here beside me, till I’m touching you
And forevermore sharing your love

Private detective Jake Gittes (Jack Nicholson) would have us believe that he’s unflappable, as arch as the one-liners he slings at his she-done-me-wrong clients and the cops who snub their noses at him. ”You’re dumber than you think I think you are,” he cracks to Lt. Escobar (Perry Lopez). Comments like this might peg him as a real hardnose if not for his pesky moral code. He wants to ignore it, but he can’t, and it’s the reason he gets swept up in too many tangled stories that don’t end happily.

Truth be told, it is Gittes’ nagging conscience that makes “Chinatown,” Roman Polanski’s gorgeously shot, densely plotted love letter to film noir, more than just a rigorous exercise in mental gymnastics. The fact that this investigator, with his steely, seen-it-all eyes, can’t pull back emotionally from his cases separates him from the pack. That gets him in trouble often enough, and if not the curiosity shows up to finish the job. Since Gittes can’t leave a hunch unexamined, he’s intrigued when a woman (Diane Ladd) shows up in his office convinced her husband, Hollis Mulwray (Darrell Zwerling), chief engineer of L.A. Water and Power, is having an affair. Gittes decides to tail Mulwray and sees fresh water being dumped into the Pacific. Peculiar, since there’s a serious drought. Gittes snaps some money shots of Mulwray and his mistress, and when they wind up front-page news the second bomb drops. The real Evelyn Mulwray (Faye Dunaway) barges into his office, and she’s understandably enraged that Gittes took the case under false pretenses. Gittes, in turn, is none too happy that he’s become someone’s puppet, and he’s hell-bent on finding out who’s pulling the strings.

There is more, much, much more, to “Chinatown” than this. Polanski’s twisty plot continues to uncoil itself slowly, almost languidly. From this point, we, like Gittes, sense that Evelyn is hiding something, possibly something sinister or shameful, and that this Mulwray scandal goes far deeper than the ocean the water’s been dumped into. When Mulwray’s body turns up, lungs filled with salt water even though he was pulled from a freshwater reservoir, that much is clear. Now there’s a scandal and a murder, and the cast of POIs expands to include Evelyn’s millionaire father Noah Cross (John Huston), a man who serves Gittes a head-on fish for lunch and reveals himself to be a man as menacing as he is rich. The pieces start to come together toward the end of Gittes’ topsy-turvy investigation. Or do they? Scriptwriter Robert Towne unloads not one but two shockers, both of which force us to double back and scrounge around for clues we missed. And that’s when we realize Gittes wasn’t the only one trapped in an unpredictable cat-and-mouse game.

Not many scripts can draw in viewers the way Towne’s does. This is complex, captivating writing that manages to keep us guessing until the final moments, and even when the answers are provided, they aren’t necessarily easy or satisfying. Every revelation here is hard-won. Somehow Towne also manages to capture the spirit of 1930s film noir, with its femme fatales (Dunaway in this case), terrible misdeeds of the past and how they infect the present, the detective who’s in over his head but won’t back down. It’s all there, and it’s all executed flawlessly.

“Chinatown,” however, isn’t just a masterpiece because of the script — Polanski’s direction, his keen eye for the shadows-and-fog atmosphere, that sense of weariness, is impressive in the way it recreates 1930s-era L.A. and does so in color, not black-and-white. Mastery, too, exists in the performances of Huston, Dunaway and Nicholson. Huston, with his towering presence, exudes the effortless menace of a man unaccustomed to having his whims questioned. Dunaway’s Evelyn is equal parts fragility and untapped rage; she is exactly as mysterious as she needs to be, and not a drop more. Nicholson’s Gittes is a character for the books. The actor hits a career best here, demonstrating vulnerability he rarely shows. He makes Gittes the moral compass and the heart of “Chinatown,” the kind of man who not only can’t forget what he’s seen but doesn’t want to.

Grade: A

It is a cinematic miracle when the original film and the re-make are equally chic. Psycho and King Kong, please take note!

Well, my favorite “then&now” film duo is the sexy theft thriller The Thomas Crown Affair. Something about the dangerous cat-and-mouse between the debonair thief and the savvy insurance girl appeals to my fascination with forbidden flirtations. And the costuming? Talk about a wardrobe wowza! I recently watched both films and just knew I had to take it to the blog!

*images courtesy of allmoviephoto.com, boston.com, dailymail.co.uk, all-reviews.com, idiadega.blogspot.com, beautifulhairstyles.com*

The Faye&McQueen Show

Ms. Dunaway breezes on-screen in cool pastels and luxe accessories. She’s a man-eater who you can also take home to mama! With sexy updos and impeccable manis, Faye moves with sass and confidence that lesser women only dream of. Her skirt suits hearken back to a time when professional ladies didn’t check their femininity of the office door. Mr. McQueen, in his slim suits and GQ-cool casualwear, is obviously the originator of playboy-chic a la Daniel Craig’s James Bond. And that polo scene? HauteHotHaute!

BespokeBronson&RavishingRenee

Pierce’s version of Tommy is just as cool and stylish as McQueen’s. I swear the tailored suit was invented for this dashing Irishmen. And he can rock a barely buttoned white shirt and jeans like none other.  From his posh Uptown address (68th and Lexington) to his devil may care (or steal) attitude, Brosnan portrays bad-boy chic with perfection. Decked out in fur and gartered gams, Renee makes an entrance that is silver-screen slamming. Her entire wardrobe is so classic and sophisticated that, a decade later, it is still relevant and completely enviable. With her sequins, body-con frocks and moto jackets, Renee as Catherine could easily be featured in a Fall 2009 Vogue spread. And beyond the costuming, the chemistry between the characters is so electric, it’s almost naughty- like the back-and-forth between you and your most inappropriate crush.

All right, HighEnders, slip into your most lux jammies and get ready for a double-header of sexy-chic. I swear, they will “steal” your sartorial heart The trailer for the original below!

The film that made Jack Nicholson a superstar and Faye Dunaway even crazier.

With a suspicious, porcelain-skinned femme fatale (Faye Dunaway) bankrolling his snooping, private eye J.J. Gittes (Jack Nicholson) uncovers intricate dirty dealings in the Los Angeles waterworks and gets his nose slashed for his trouble. Meanwhile, his financier harbors a nasty family secret.

This movie if has any flaws at all is surely an amazing American classic. The film starts out as a simple detective story but with many twists and turns the film becomes a very hard-boiled mystery movie. I’am not a very big fan of neo-noir but for this film I made an exception because this film does something amazing and mixed neo-noir and psychological drama.

The film’s emotion of mystery and confusion is shown through its mysterious setting much ado to the very creepy score. The setting was very dark and bruised much like the decade it was made in except the film takes place in 30’s and Director Roman Polanski does a great job at fully capturing the look and feel of this mysterious place.

The problem I had with this film was that the film didn’t feel or look at all like it was in the 30’s. The film could’ve easily been mistaken for taking place in the 70’s. Other than the cars, the 30’s doesn’t look too alive in this film.

The screenplay is very brilliant and very wise when it comes toward the questions and the full mystery of the story. Much of due to the very inspired direction from Roman Polanski, he creates a setting that is not just an place but a place full of lies, deception, and tragedy’s that come abroad on a regular basis.

Acting from Nicholson and Dunaway are just spectacular. Nicholson surely shows off his great acting chops in this breakthrough performance and creates this character that we cheer for in finding the exact truth of what has happened in this world. Faye Dunaway also proves her power as a leading woman and is simply just eye candy and can belt out some great heartbreaking scenes.

The film is surely an American Classic that keeps you guessing until the very end and when it’s finally over you still wonder about the world we live in and how it really is.

9.5/10=Full Price!!

Welcome back to The Rival Rundown! If you’ve always wanted to give props to your school on CC, now’s your chance! Shoot us an email explaining what’s awesome and unique about your school (or what stinks about Rival U) at rivalrundown@collegecandy.com!

I live in New York, where suddenly it has gotten really. effing. cold.  (I wore my winter coat and a scowl over the weekend.)  So naturally I’ve been dreaming of what life would have been like had I gone to school in a more temperate climate where you can tailgate in tank tops and flip flops.  Such is the way things go in the Sunshine State, where the University of Florida and Florida State University have, quite literally, one of the hottest rivalries around.

1. Mascot Match-up

Florida – Call them Gator Nation, Gator Country, even Alberta and Albert (who won Sports Illustrated On Campus’ Best Mascot award); the Florida Gators are more than just a local species.
Florida State – The Florida State Seminoles, named for the Native Americans who first inhabited the area, are perhaps most famous for their war chant, which is among the most immediately recognizable songs in all of sports culture.

Three credits to: Hands-down, it’s Florida State. It’s the college chant at it’s absolute finest (and so simple, even babies can sing it)!

2. Athletic Assertiveness

Florida – The Gators have won 4 out of their 5 appearances in BCS Bowl Games as well as a rich tradition of sending athletes in the Olympic Games, with 90 medals awarded to UF alums.
Florida State – The Seminoles have appeared in six BCS Bowls, winning the national title in the 2000 Sugar Bowl.

Three Credits to:  A commanding appearance by Florida!

3. Terrific Traditions

Florida – Perhaps not a tradition, but more of a revered Gator contribution to society: the sports drink Gatorade was invented in Gainesville. Hence the name!
Florida State – Bored? Rainy night in? Looking for a party of the non-Greek variety? Head over to Crenshaw Lanes, Florida State’s own on-campus bowling alley! Where else can you bowl for less than $2 a game?

Three credits to:  Florida. To borrow the current Gatorade slogan, well, “that’s G.”

4. Ass-kicking Alumni

Florida – Faye Dunaway, Darrell Hammond, Bob Vila
Florida State – Deion Sanders, Burt Reynolds, Cheryl Hines

Three credits to: It’s a tie! Hard to pick a winner amongst these prominent names.

5. Acceptance Rate Agony (for the class of 2012)

Florida - 39.5%
Florida State - 46.7%

Three credits to: Florida, definitetively.

And the diploma goes to: Florida in a landslide! Florida State may have won the war (chant), but the Gators cream the Seminoles where it counts.

Network (1976)

I’d always seen the classic clip of “I’m mad as hell…and I’m not going to take it anymore!” I thought it was in reference to a news team standing up to the network bosses and really pumping out some honest newscasts, full of journalistic integrity. I always thought that seemed like a noble premise for a movie, but in truth, I never really gave a shit about watching it.

Now that I’m watching all top 250 rated movies, I was forced into this one. And, Ho-Lee Shee-It, am I glad that I did. With the exception of Robert Duvall, I don’t know much of anything about anyone having to do with the movie,. From the writer to the director all the way down to the actors, I’m pretty much in the dark. But, it looks to me as thought I’m going to have to change all of that.

Television in the late 70’s was much different than it is now. A lot of bible belters felt that it was morally reprehensible and that is was corrupting the minds of the day’s youth but really, in terms of comparison, 70’s TV doesn’t hold a candle to the likes of Maury, Jerry, HBO, Spike, et al. Where it was once controversial to harshly question the actions of the President, it’s now completely all right to do an in depth show about 15 year old girls who loved to get fucked and think it’s time to get knocked up. Somehow, writer Sydney Chayefski saw what was to come. He’s created what was a satire at the time, but was, in fact, an accurate prediction of the current state of television.

The idea of network news selling its integrity for ratings is surely nothing new. Who’d have ever thought that shows like Entertainment Tonight and TMZ TV would come about as the top “news magazines” here, only 30 years later?

In order for this satire to have worked without coming across as a monumental joke, everything really had to be perfect: all the sub plots, the directing, the filming, and most especially, the acting. And, lucky for us, the viewers, it was.

Peter Finch’s portrayal of Howard Beale is obviously what the whole movie is staked on. His progression from depressed man to crazed fanatic is smooth, exhilarating and, most importantly, it worked. Here, though, it was the portrayals of supporting players that make the movie such a gem. From William Holden’s honorable newsman struggling with the transformation of ethics in the newsroom, to Faye Dunaway’s soulless television personified, utilizing any available weapon to claw her way to the top, to Robert Duval’s corporate shark, interested not in substance, but in profit, and of course Ned Beatty’s perfect CEO, brash, powerful, angry, and most of all the utter human representation of greed, this magnificent ensemble of bit parts make every inch of this movie a delight to relish in.

The long and short is simply that this is a masterpiece. There was not a dull moment, and the prescient nature of the film kept me baffled throughout. As the story become more fantastical, it mirrored modern television more and more. I’d not only recommend the film, but I feel like I need to watch it again.

在製作上，本片的燈光、剪接與攝影確是拿揑準繩，為角色增添立體感覺，場與場的剪接位又有趣機智，打出一個電話接上另一個電話接聽，中間的暗場發生了的事已經不言而喻，更多添一份接受現實的無奈感覺。

在劇本上，本片女主人Diana（Faye Dunaway飾演）以節目部阿頭硬闖新聞部，以娛樂功能作為最高宗旨，在公映當年可能是誇張失實的諷刺描寫，在今日應已是媒體世界的常態了，這說明，編導擁有跨時代的前瞻力，三十年前的嬉笑，今日重溫，卻一樣的無奈與悲哀。

幾位老人家 William Holden、Peter Finch、Robert Duvall 表現出神入化，都是屢積了幾十年演技的一個優秀巨匠，沉重而內歛，演活沉醉在奇觀媒體下的無力與哀愁，惹人深思，令人感慨。

伸延:
．《非常爆…內幕》

Si la expresión “escritor de culto” es aplicable a alguien es sin duda a Charles Bukowski, paradigma del llamado “realismo sucio” de la literatura norteamericana contemporánea. Autor de decenas de novelas (La máquina de follar, Factótum o Pulp, por citar tres), multitud de relatos cortos e incontables poemas, era cuestión de tiempo que sus libros o la atmósfera que retrata en los mismos fueran llevados al cine, directamente o por imitación. El no menos de culto cineasta francés nacido en Teherán Barbet Schroeder (convertido en cineasta en plena nouvelle vague junto a Jean-Luc Godard y Jacques Rivette, y autor de películas tan variopintas, tanto en Hollywood como fuera de él, como More, La Vallé, Mujer blanca soltera busca, El misterio Von Bülow, La virgen de los sicarios o la impresionante dupla de documentales General Idi Amin Dada, sobre el dictador ugandés, y El abogado del terror, sobre el abogado Jacques Verges) llevó a la pantalla El borracho (Barfly, 1987), con guión del propio Bukowski inspirado en su propia biografía.

Su trasunto, Henry Chinaski (interpretado por Mickey Rourke en lo que bien podría haber sido el mejor papel de toda su carrera hasta su reciente y magistral caracterización de la derrota en El luchador), es un joven escritor, genial y lúcido, cuyas virtudes son favorecidas por el ingente consumo de alcohol y la vida nocturna a borbotones. Su local favorito es El cuerno de oro, lugar frecuentado por un conjunto de múltiples territorios humanos de la noche de lo más exótico: vagabundos, putas, tipos solitarios, desechos sociales y demás individuos marginales (incluido el propio Bukowski sentado en un taburete ante la barra). El aliciente de la noche suelen protagonizarlo Henry y Eddie, el barman del turno de noche, cuyas peleas son objeto de apuesta por el resto de los clientes. Si Henry gana, se gasta los pavos ganados en copas o putas. Si pierde, Jim, el barman del turno de día, le cura las heridas y le da alguna que otra copa gratis. Y así es la vida de Henry hasta que una noche conoce a Wanda (Faye Dunaway), una mujer de de belleza residual que tiene tanta afición a la soledad y al alcohol como él mismo.

La película es un catálogo de excesos interpretativos y narrativos, aunque para apreciarlos en lo que valen y no llevarse la impresión de que asistimos a una pantomima artificiosa, a un desbocado tributo a una vida al límite de alcohol, drogas y agresividad social, es imprescindible verla en versión original (la diferencia es tal, que la gran interpretación de Rourke se convierte en una nulidad en la versión doblada). Por lo demás, la película es más bien un producto para lectores fieles de Bukowski (o de la música: la banda sonora contiene piezas de Mahler, Beethoven, Mozart o Händel, entre otros), acostumbrados a esos personajes derrotados, a la figura del perdedor en escenarios de tugurios nocturnos, moteles, habitaciones cochambrosas, cucarachas, suciedad y barrios marginales de naves vacías, bares poco frecuentados y calles semidesiertas, retratado como un hombre desaliñado, sin afeitar, de ropa arrugada y llena de lamparones, de talento e inteligencia innegables pero de vida anárquica, sostenida por el alcohol, una vida en la que la comida pinta poco y el agua todavía menos, ni para beber ni por higiene. Y desde esa perspectiva, pequeñas dosis de lucidez en forma de reflexiones interesantes, de píldoras de sabiduría concentrada en lo que es un análisis demoledor de la sociedad actual, críticas devastadoras a una hipocresía instalada como valor fundamental y único de un desierto intelectual en el que los individuos ya no saben vivir como tales, sino produciendo por objetivos, vitales o económicos, utilizando para ello ese ser acabado como metáfora del alma del hombre contemporáneo, consumido por enormes debilidades sin que lo sepa o bien acomodándose a ello, resignándose, entregándose, revolcándose en ellas, asumiendo el final pero disfrutando de todo lo que le dan hasta que ese inevitable momento llegue. Un personaje, un esperpento deliberado cuyo rechazo por parte de la “gente bien” es una inteligente forma de retratar el inconsciente autorrechazo por sí mismos.

Dieciocho años más tarde, el noruego Bent Hamer recupera a Chinaski (interpretado esta vez de manera excelente por Matt Dillon, sin las excentricidades y muecas de Rourke y sin la lela pasividad gestual de Ben Gazzara) en la coproducción noruego-norteamericana Factótum (2005), la cual vuelve a bucear en los textos más sórdidos de Bukowski para componer una nueva historia biográfica sobre el personaje. En esta ocasión lo literario tiene más peso, y lo que en el film de Schroeder es meramente tangencial (Rourke retratado escribiendo en papeles sucios, a veces diminutos, en breves tomas o como voz en off que relata sus propios escritos), aquí es protagonista. Chinaski escribe y envía relatos a las revistas y editoriales. Sus trabajos siempre son rechazados, y tiene que aceptar empleos esporádicos que siempre abandona a los pocos días (incluso horas) para pagar su adicción al alcohol. Renunciando a una vida convencional en aras de la autenticidad, esto es, vivir al límite como única forma de vivir, Hank Chinaski se convierte en observador de una realidad que desgrana en sus escritos, al tiempo que los únicos incentivos diarios son el alcohol, las apuestas en las carreras de caballos y sus dos “amores”, Jan y Laura (Marisa Tomei y Lily Taylor). Paradójicamente, estas dos vidas alternativas que plantea Chinaski, la auténtica del observador que exprime el tuétano de la vida y la falseada del hombre acomodado que se miente a sí mismo, que vive una vida de comodidades materiales pero de vaciedad y convencionalidad anímica, sentimental e intelectual, son imcompatibles: sólo obtiene el éxito literario cuando se amolda a la vida común y corriente y pierde a Jan, el vehículo de sus excesos, de manera que una cosa lleva a la otra, o viceversa.

La película de Hamer apuesta por la sobriedad estética para contar su historia de excesos, a diferencia de Schroeder, que visualmente se nutre igualmente de ellos. Con más humor, y más cercana, paradójicamente, al contarnos la historia desde un punto de vista más distante pero con una perspectiva más clara, más global (interna y externa) de la figura del perdedor, resulta más visionable, más honesta y directa, evitando la sordidez innecesaria y haciendo mayor hincapié en el aprovechamiento, por parte del personaje, de sus propias cualidades, su dominio del alcohol y su carácter derrotado pero orgulloso, perdido pero agudo, con los pies en la tierra que quiere tenerlos pero sin desconocer la tierra que de vez en cuando hay que pisar para sobrevivir.

En suma, una excelente dupla de filmes, ninguno de ellos excesivamente largo (apenas superan los noventa minutos), para que los fans de Bukowski disfruten de su particular mundo trasladado a la pantalla grande con gran solvencia y exactitud, para que quienes desconozcan su literatura puedan apreciar los temas y atmósferas que la impregnan, y para que se abstengan los espectadores o lectores que gusten de las historias convencionales y planas que los mantienen a salvo de hacerse preguntas o incluso de la capacidad de respondérselas.

   “The Arrangement” opened to mostly terrible reviews in  November of 1969. Vincent Canby of the New York Times said, “The Arrangement” is Elia Kazan’s most romantic movie. It may also be his worst…”  Later on Canby in the same review he says,  “The Arrangement” reeks with slightly absurd movie chic but, unlike Douglas Sirk’s “Written on the Wind” or Vincente Minnelli’s “Two Weeks in Another Town,” it’s not only not much fun, but it’s a mess of borrowed styles.”  Harsh words and while I am not going to claim that “The Arrangement” is a lost masterpiece or even a satisfying film that has grown better with time, the film is not the mess Mr. Canby seemed to think it was.

    Based on Kazan’s successful novel (it was on the New York Times bestseller list for 37 weeks)  which ran over 500 pages and had to be condensed down to a film slightly over two hours. It is the story of Evangelos Arness, a man who spent his life selling out, he even changed his name to Eddie Anderson. Eddie is a successful advertising executive  married to Florence (Deborah Kerr), they live in a large house with servants. The marriage is affable, they seem to have it all, she seems content, Eddie we find out is not.

    On his way to work Eddie cracks up, both figuratively and literally when he lets go of the wheel of his sports car and crashes into a truck in the next lane. Not able to not willing to speak he remains silent during his recovery drifting in and out of painful recollections of his childhood with a father who intimidated and dominated him and his mother. These memories are intermixed with visions of his affair with Gwen (Faye Dunaway), a sexy bright independent office associate who finds it painful that Eddie has sold out and how much he must hurt him to imagine what he could have been.

    When Eddie physically recovers, his sanity is still in question. His father is taken ill, Eddie goes to New York to stay with the dying man but their time together only brings back the memories of his anguished childhood. He meets up with Gwen, who now has a child, she claims to not know who the father is. Gwen is living with another man, Charles, who asks nothing from her, even when she has affairs with other men, he is there for her.

    Florence comes to New York, only to find Eddie back with Gwen (she literally finds them in bed together). Convinced that he is still unbalanced she make arrangements with the way too friendly family lawyer, Arthur (Hume Cronyn) to have him hospitalized. Eddie, who after a lifetime of being what everyone else wants only wants to be himself even if that means staying in a mental hospital. Gwen comes to get him out and they agree to make another go at a life together. When his father dies, at the cemetery Eddie is there with Gwen, Florence stands close to the family lawyer, her arm in his. They all seem to be okay with the arrangement.

    Kazan wanted Marlon Brando for the role of Eddie, but Brando was reluctant to take on the role. Weather it was a fear of working with the man he did some of his greatest work with or it was too soon after the assassination of Martin Luther King, which Brando claimed, he turned Kazan down.  The alternative choice was Kirk Douglas, which probably hurt the film. Nothing against Douglas but Brando would have brought a sensitivity and depth that Douglas lacks. Faye Dunaway, who first worked with Kazan in a Lincoln Center production of Arthur Miller’s “After the Fall”, gives a perfectly pitched  performance as Gwen, a woman working in a man’s world, intelligent enough to rebel with wit and strength. She seems to have little respect for the men she worked with or for.

    A criticism at the time of its release is the film was too choppy and Kazan could not find the key to slim down the massive book into a two hour cohesive film. What works for me is Dunaway’s performance, and by the way, she never looked better, plus a couple of other interesting scenes, one between Eddie and Florence at the boathouse and the scenes with Eddie and his father, Sam. “The Arrangement” is a hard film to recommend. It is slow in spots and I’ m sure some will find it disjointed and dull but if you look, you still see Kazan’s touch, the outsiders, in both Eddie and Gwen, a theme that he has used over the course of his brilliant career.

In Paddy Chayefsky’s brilliant film, “Network,” Faye Dunaway’s character, Diana Christensen, prods William Holden’s aging newsman to let her revamp his news hour for better ratings. The aptly named Diana (goddess of the hunt) is in tireless, maniacal pursuit of higher ratings via ever-escalating on-air outrageousness. She envisions adding a psychic to the evening news, with the centerpiece of the “news” hour being the fanatical tirades of newsman-turned-latter-day-prophet Howard Beale. After all, Diana purrs, “…even the news has to have a little showmanship.”

33 years after “Network,” it seems Mr. Chayefsky was, quite literally, right on the money. CNN has a theme song and nifty graphics for each war, natural disaster, and political scandal. The Glenn Becks and Keith Olbermanns of the airwaves, like Howard Beale, nightly incite public outrage vis-a-vis their impassioned invectives. As these celebrity oracles point fingers and choke back tears, the subtext is clear: they’re mad as hell, and they’re not going to take it anymore.

But they will, we presume, continue to take in the tidy profits they accumulate as they appeal to the paranoia and disenchantment of the American public. The stock and trade of television today is fear, peddled as casually as Cracker Jacks at a baseball game, that other great American pastime.

Yesterday afternoon, a 6-year-old boy in Colorado pulled a 6-year-old boy stunt that dominated every news network for hours on end. Young Falcon Heene untied his storm chasing, reality tv-contestant father’s giant helium balloon in the backyard, and then, fearing punishment, hid in the attic. The balloon flew at high speed across the state; fearing that the young boy was trapped inside, the National Guard was called, activity at the Denver airport was halted, and Americans sat riveted to their televisions.

Never mind the mounting casualties in Afghanistan! Health care? Nuclear armament of Iran? Meh. A little boy may be flying through the air in a big, silver balloon! While search parties combed Colorado for Falcon Heene, Wolf Blitzer and his cronies examined and reexamined fuzzy photos that may–or may not–have depicted an “object” falling from the balloon.

In serious tones, “experts” were consulted as to what “lessons” we could all learn from this story. (Um, don’t climb inside your storm chasing reality tv-contestant father’s science projects and fly across Colorado? Yeah, that sounds pretty universal.) No one seemed terribly interested in the fact that, given the dimensions of the balloon, Falcon’s weight, and the laws of physics, the balloon in question would almost certainly have been unable to even lift a 50 pound child, let alone soar across Colorado for 60 miles carrying one.

When young Falcon was found (and, for the record, I’m as happy as anyone else that the kid was unharmed), he and his family were interviewed by Mr. Blitzer. The boy came right out and said that his adventure had, in fact, been “for the show.” So was the whole boy-in-the-balloon story just a big hoax? Is the American dream of a house with a yard and a white picket fence incomplete without a gaggle of cameramen on the perfectly manicured lawn?

And at the end of the day, who is more culpable? The news networks, for sensationalizing and dumbing down every pseudo-story that comes down the pike, or us, for actually giving a shit? And now, for more on this story, we turn to Howard Beale. Howard?

Gia (1998)
★★★ / ★★★★

I was deeply touched by this biopic about a supermodel named Gia Carangi (Angelina Jolie) back in the 1970’s and 1980’s. Throughout the picture, I felt that her story was very personal because we got to see her evolve from a rebellious kid who was abandoned by her mother to a stunning supermodel who everyone wanted to worked with. At the same time, we also got to see her cocaine addiction, failed relationships and connection with others, and the eventual decline of her health because of AIDS. I’m glad that this film did not particularly glamorize the fashion world. In fact, I got a feeling that it was almost against it–as if it was one of the main reasons to blame that finally drove Carangi over the edge. Gia was far from a perfect person and therefore not free from blame but she had crucial moments when she took responsibility because she really did want to change. I admired the scenes when Jolie was posing in front of the camera looking extraordinary but such scenes also had voice-overs of what the photographers, the crew, and the other models’ real thoughts about Gia. It shows that something beautiful on the outside doesn’t necessarily reflect what’s on the inside, which I thought culminated when one of the women confronted Gia with such anger during one of the drug addiction sessions concerning the lies–on how to look like, how to act, and how to live one’s life–presented by the glossy fashion magazines. I also enjoyed the fact that Gia’s relationships were highlighted throughout the film: the mother who uses her as an accessory, who’s always there when things are good but almost never there when things are bad (Mercedes Ruehl), the loyal friend she met right before she was discovered and was there with her until the end (Eric Michael Cole), the agent who she saw more as a mother-figure (Faye Dunaway), and her on-and-off girlfriend who always wanted Gia to be the best she could be (Elizabeth Mitchell). While most people I know chose to see this for the nudity by Jolie, I have to say that this film goes beyond issues of the flesh. There’s a very real story and powerful lessons to be learned here; in fact, to be honest, the “sex” scenes are not that shocking to me because I’ve seen all kinds of movies with all kinds of sexual acts. For me, the sole purpose of watching this picture for the nudity is a sign of disrespect for Jolie’s acting abilities and Gia’s memory. Directed by Michael Cristofer, “Gia” is a triumph on multiple levels (especially Jolie’s acting) and should be seen with an open mind and sensitivity.

Parler des Trois jours du Condor ici paraîtra peut-être surprenant pour certains mais qu’importe je suis le tôlier. Le terme “hommage” serait un peu fort pour désigner cette petite chronique d’un film de Pollack qui nous a quitté l’année dernière. Je parlerais plus volontiers d’un clin d’œil. Ce film est la quatrième collaboration (sur sept) entre le réalisateur et Robert Redford, acteur charismatique et si emblématique des années 70. Il était d’autre part peu probable, alors que je commençais Zéro de Conduite, que Max von Sydow, un des acteurs fétiches de Bergman, serait évoqué dans un film tel que celui-ci. Mais faisons fi de ces considérations personnelles. Le film !

La mise en situation suit la technique hollywoodienne classique. Présentation successive des personnages, le héros est immédiatement identifié, on sait d’ores et déjà que l’action (le drame) est pour bientôt. C’est assez con, mais ça fonctionne. Joe Turner  (Robert Redford) est un romancier qui semble sans avenir et qui travaille parallèlement dans une obscure division de la CIA chargée de lire et relire toutes les publications mondiales qui pourraient éventuellement menées à la résolutions d’affaires ou d’idées pour le moins tordues. De l’aveu même de Turner, un métier pareil ça ne s’invente pas. Alors qu’il s’absente pour chercher le repas de ses collègues à l’épicerie du coin, ceux-ci sont abattus par trois hommes (dont le personnage interprété par Max von Sydow). De retour, il découvre la scène et prend la fuite sachant sa vie menacée. Un contact de la CIA lui propose un rendez-vous afin de le rapatrié en lieu sûr. La rencontre s’effectue dans une ruelle mais dégénère vite: Un blessé, un mort. Turner est une nouvelle fois en fuite. Esseulé, traqué et déterminé à découvrir qui se cache derrière la tuerie à laquelle il a échappé, il va croiser la route de Kathy (Faye Dunaway) dont il va petit à petit se rapprocher (Hollywood oblige).

Les trois jours du Condor est un film d’espionnage somme toutes assez intéressant de part son traitement, son interprétation (Redford et von Sydow en tête, une Faye Dunaway un ton en dessous selon moi) et son rythme. Comme la plupart des films américains de la décennie 70, il a les défauts de ses qualités. La profondeur psychologique des personnages passent un peu à la trappe et les retournements peuvent laisser perplexe. Quoiqu’il en soit, ce film constitue la plus belle réussite de son auteur et reste du bon et solide divertissement.

Frank Sinatra and Faye Dunaway

 

The First Deadly Sin is a 1980 film produced by and starring Frank Sinatra, with Faye Dunaway, David Dukes, George Coe and Martin Gabel in his final acting role.

Tagline:   He’s searching for a killer. She’s searching for a miracle …. And time is running out.

The last of nine films produced by Sinatra and his final starring performance, as the troubled New York City cop Detective Sergeant Edward X. Delaney, The First Deadly Sin was based on a series of popular novels by Lawrence

Buy this Novel Here!

Sanders and was originally slated to be directed by Roman Polanski, who was dropped by Columbia Pictures after statutory rape charges were brought against him.

Buy This Title on DVD

Co-starring with Sinatra was Faye Dunaway as his ailing wife, bed-ridden in hospital during the entire duration of the film with a rare kidney affliction. The musical score was provided by composer and arranger Gordon Jenkins, who first worked with Sinatra on the 1957 album Where Are You?. One of the bit players was an unknown Bruce Willis who had a walk-on part, virtually unrecognizable as a hat covers most of his face.

The First Deadly Sin was the third production by Sinatra’s Artanis production company and was shot on location in New York City. It was premiered on October 23 1980 at Loew’s State Theatre in Times Square as part of a benefit for the Mother Cabrini Medical Centre.

27x40 Movie Poster

“Pacientul are intotdeauna dreptate” este o gluma mult savurata a psihoterapeutilor si fireste ea ironizeaza, cu multa caldura de altfel, sensul ei opus.

In esenta ei stiintifica ea are cel putin doua valente: pe de o parte exprima realitatea celor grav  ”chinuiti”  care niciodata nu au dreptate, si pe de alta parte o tehnica de manipulare curativa in procesul de vindecare anume aceea de a aproba discursul celui suferind.

Dr. Jack Mickler este un psihanalist plictisit, dezinteresat, care mai are zece zile pana la pensionare dar care odata a fost cel mai bun din generatia sa.Si ce poate fi mai anost si obositor decat sa astepti sa treaca ultimele zile pana la termenul de pensionare? Sau poate ca nu este asa, ultimele zece zile pot fi cele mai marcante din intreaga cariera.
Un pacient vindecat iti poate da sentimentul utitlitatii, satisfactia

reusitei profesionale, implinirea unei misiuni morale, exaltare spirituala, o promovare uriasa, notorietate, experienta personala si nu numai.

Dar ce iti poate aduce un pacient bolnav de schizofrenie care crede ca este Don Juan De Marco?

Doctorului Jack Mickler ii aduce regasirea de sine, redescoperirea dragostei de viata si patima de a iubi chiar daca este un psihanalist cu greutate.

Don Juan De Marco este un pacient care face pasiune pentru dragoste si cult pentru femeie intr-un context social in care ele inseamna doar schizofrenie si obsesie. Are candoarea si puritatea pacientului pe care analistul nu vrea si nu are de ce sa il trateze.

Lungmetrajul “Don Juan De Marco” nu este povestea unui schizofrenic care viseaza frumos, este realitatea vazuta prin doua filtre care devin unul singur, din delir in psihanalitic.
Un tratament de psihanaliza fara transfer, cu contratransfer la nivel de contaminare.

USA,1995

Regie: Jeremy Leven
Scenariu: Lord Byron si Jeremy Leven
Distributie: Marlon Brando, Johnny Depp, Faye Dunaway, Géraldine Pailhas, etc

So now we hear that it’s ok to have sex with a thirteen year old as long she doesn’t say no.

There’s rape and there’s rape… and well, he IS Roman Rolanski. So he was actually doing her a favor by supposedly getting her so drugged up on champagne and ‘Ludes’ she had NO idea of what was going on.

Quaaludes by themselves are ENOUGH to do that. Trust me on my knowing this… i just made it into my mid-fifties… do the math… ’nuff said?

Anyway, so Roman Polanski supposedly gets this girl doped up and then allegedly proceeds to rape her. Oh yeah, HE says she agreed… i would think he would say that. Who is going to question the Great Roman Polanski? And just why is he so revered?

Be—cause he is one of the greatest directors of all time. Puh-leeze, Chinatown was good… well Faye Dunaway was good, but i kinda think her and Candice Bergen… i’ll stop there.

But the fact remains: anyone else other than the Great Roman Polanski does something like this and they are vilified and the crowds are screaming for their heads on a stake.

Oh, if it wasn’t rape, why did he run off to Europe, always making sure never to enter a country from which he might extradited back to the States from? Hmmmm…?

A forced sexual act whether the person is cognizant of the act or not is RAPE!

Yes RAPE! One, she was WELL under 18. Under the law, she is not capable of giving her consent. Two, she was in NO condition, even if she had been FIVE YEARS OLDER to give her consent. Under either of these conditions she is unable to enter into a contract. And allowing someone to perform a sex act with her constitutes a verbal contract. She was neither old enough or clear-headed enough to enter into said verbal contract.

I’m seeing an unintended consequence here also: if this holds up…
getting a thirteen year old drugged up and taking advantage of her sexually doesn’t qualify as RAPE… the precedent this may set could set womens advocacy, rape prevention and prosecutions back fifty years.

“Well, yer honor… yeah, i knowd she was thirteen, and after a bottle a’ Jim Beam… why hell, neither ov us knew what we was a’doin’. But she was ok with it. I mean she nodded when i asked her ’bout doin’ it.”

Well, if your name is Roman Polanski… it just might work.

USA, 131 min

“I am widely regarded, I know, as an evil, profligate dwarf,” Polanski wrote in his autobiography. “My friends — and the women in my life — know better.”

I have been on quite a Faye Dunaway kick recently. My viewings have confirmed my belief that even in her less famous (or, in the case of Mommie Dearest, infamous) film performances, she still commands the screen with personality and charisma that few actors can match.

Eyes of Laura Mars

Mommie Dearest

Barfly

I know that Ms. Dunaway has stated that she regrets starring in Mommie Dearest and credits it with ruining her career (which is understandable and, in many ways, accurate). However, rather than lay any blame at her feet, I prefer Allmovie’s interpretation that she gave an astonishing amount of commitment and intensity to her portrayal of Joan Crawford, but was unfortunately rewarded with utter incompetence on the part of the film-makers and other cast members. Nevertheless, even if she was unable to regain the screen supremacy that she held in the ’60s and ’70s, she still produced an all-time classic cult performance that will certainly never be forgotten. Furthermore, I feel that if she had not sacrificed some of her glamour and star status with this film, she might never have produced quirky and memorable performances such as the one she gives in Barbet Schroeder’s brilliant Barfly.

by Jonathan Burrello

For those of you out there that have been searching or waiting for a great film adaptation of Alexandre Dumas’ spectacular adventure novel, The Three Musketeers, I submit you look no further than director Richard Lester’s (“A Hard Day’s Night,” “A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to the Forum,” and “Superman II”) respectful yet rowdy treatment of this classic tale starring Michael York (“Romeo and Juliet”), Oliver Reed (“The Devils”), Christopher Lee (“Dracula”), Faye Dunaway (“Network”), Raquel Welch (“One Million Years B. C.”), Frank Finlay (“The Pianist”), Richard Chamberlain (“King Solomon’s Mines”), Geraldine Chaplin (“Doctor Zhivago”), Charlton Heston (“Planet of the Apes”), Roy Kinnear (“Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory”), Spike Milligan (“Life of Brian”) and more!

As a big fan of the book I was delighted when I was introduced to Richard Lester’s “The Three Musketeers” (1973) and “The Four Musketeers” (1974) several years ago. The film divides the story up into two movies in order to fit in the whole expansive story (“Harry Potter” and “The Hobbit” are getting the same treatment so it’s not so ludicrous). Both films really work together (and independently for that matter). “The Three Musketeers” and “The Four Musketeers” follow Dumas’ storyline extremely closely, but remain somehow unique and different. The marvelous cast and rambunctious script almost seems to be taking cues from Vaudeville or Monty Python at times with its quick, sharp-tongued wit and sly slapstick.

The first leg of the series, “The Three Musketeers” (1973), follows the adventures of young D’Artagnan (York), the head-strong country bumpkin who makes friends with Musketeers Athos (Reed), Aramis (Chamberlain), and Porthos (Finlay), falls in love with the lovely Constance de Bonacieux (Welch), and makes powerful enemies in Rochefort (Lee), Cardinal Richelieu (Heston), and the seductive Lady de Winter (Dunaway). Constance, a servant of Anna of Austria (Chaplin)—bride of the oblivious French King Louis XIII (Jean-Pierre Cassel)—requests D’Artagnan to retrieve Anna’s jewels from her lover, the English Duke of Buckingham (Simon Ward), in order to prevent Richelieu from unveiling the scandal to the King. Richelieu sends Lady de Winter to apprehend the jewels to shame the Queen. The whole first film revolves around this one task, but it is so jam-packed with fantastic costumes, hilarious dialogue, daring chases, and spectacular sword-fights that the whole 1600s European political intrigue has to try and keep up with the anarchic exuberance of the rest of the movie. When I say this I mean it as a good thing. This film is the ultimate period adventure show.

The second film, “The Four Musketeers” (1974), although just as rowdy and fun as the first, gets a little more serious and darker. The plot gets more serious too. War has hit France. Constance has been kidnapped by Rochefort. Cardinal Richelieu, in an effort to usurp the efforts of D’Artagnan (now a Musketeer), sends the evil Lady de Winter to entice him and assassinate the Duke of Buckingham (but soon her true colors and dark past with Athos are revealed and she will have to use all of her cunning to save her own skin). Lady de Winter then wants to kill D’Artagnan and Constance. The stakes are higher, the plot thickens, and the political intrigue is more intriguing. Blackmail and battle are just two of the many dishes this sumptuous sequel dishes up. The sword-fights are no less impressive and have even more pathos. Emotions run high and the suspense keeps building until the explosive sword-clanging finale, making this a satisfying conclusion to one of the best adventure stories. (There is a third film, “The Return of the Musketeers,” that Lester directed in 1989 with most of the original cast based loosely on Dumas’ Musketeer sequel, Twenty Years After, although not bad is not essential viewing).

As a big fan of action, adventure, and humor these two films are pretty irresistible to me and I strongly recommend you see them for yourself. If you like ornate costumes, swashbuckling adventure and irreverent slapstick, watching great actors having fun, and wonderful characters come to life with energy and life then look no further than “The Three Musketeers” (1973) and “The Four Musketeers” (1974). There is much to love about the story already, and seeing it done right with an extra dose of bawdy humor is just the icing on the cake. Rent them today and watch the ultimate swashbuckling adventure.