Favorites of 2019: Movies and television
Gate of Hell. Image source: The Criterion Collection
Movies
Since 2019 still has seven weeks to go, you might think it's a bit early to begin posting about my favorites. But my usually deliberate writing pace has slowed even further recently due to a heavy schedule both at and outside of work. So I'm beginning to list my favorites now in the hope of actually finishing before the end of the year.
A heavy work and personal schedule means that my six favorites and three honorable mentions have been drawn from only about 30 films watched this year. And as always my choices are made from films first seen, but not necessarily first released, in the past twelve months or so.
Narrative film
As Hollywood films get more and more franchise- and merchandise-driven we seem to have become part of an audience that studios are increasingly uninterested in appealing to. So in 2019 we found the greatest pleasure in movies produced outside the United States. In the order viewed:
Shoplifters (Manbiki Kazoku, 2018), written and directed by Hirokazu Kore-eda.
Image source: Asia Pacific Screen Awards: Best Screenplay, 2018
What at first seems like it may be a warm story about a plucky intentional family getting by on the margins through love and solidarity gradually grows more complicated, and more grim. The man, Osamu (Lily Franky), has been laid off after an injury, and supports the family by shoplifting with the boy, Shota (Kairi Jō)—who, it turns out, is not the biological child of Osamu and his wife Nobuyo (Sakura Ando). Neither is the young woman, Aki (Mayu Matsuoka), who does thinly disguised sex work as a bar hostess; she is instead related to the old woman whose house they all live in, Hatsue (Kirin Kiki).
Image source: Asia Pacific Screen Awards: Best Screenplay, 2018
The family expands when Osamu and Shota bring home a young girl, Yuri (Miyu Sasaki) who is neglected and abused by her parents; is it a rescue, or a kidnapping? And when Osamu and Shota train Yuri as a shoplifting accomplice, is that another form of abuse? Finally, we learn of the dark secret that binds Osamu and Nobuyo, and which again blurs the line between rescue and crime. Ultimately, we discover that in a corrupt, violent and unjust world no one's motives or actions can be unmixed. It is an insight of Brechtian bleakness, but lacking any of Brecht's hope for the transformation of the brutally mercenary society in which we all find ourselves.
Gate of Hell (Jigokumon, 1953), written and directed by Teinosuke Kinugasa.
Image source: The Criterion Collection
Gate of Hell has the stark simplicity of a Kabuki tragedy; only afterwards do you realize that it can be read as a postwar parable about rapacious militaristic values and their disastrous consequences. After catching a glimpse of the exquisite Lady Kesa (Machiko Kyō), the samurai Morito Endo (Kazuo Hasegawa) burns with unquenchable desire. She is married to court official Wataru Watanabe (Isao Yamagata), but Morito plans to sneak into his bedroom one night and murder him as he sleeps. Lady Kesa apparently acquiesces, but she has a plan of her own to thwart dishonor. . .
Image source: The Criterion Collection
I have long associated the Japanese cinema of the 1950s with the black & white masterpieces of Kurosawa, Mizoguchi and Ozu. One surprise of Gate of Hell is that it features gorgeous color cinematography (it was among the earliest color films by a Japanese director). It's a visual feast: the costumes are sumptuous, and many shots are framed to look like living Ukiyo-e prints (a connection made explicit at the opening of the film). The performances are powerful, the story compelling and multi-layered.
War and Peace (Voyna i mir, 1967), written by Vasily Solovyov and Sergei Bondarchuk based on the novel by Leo Tolstoy; directed by Bondarchuk.
Image source: The Criterion Collection
Speaking of visual feasts, clearly no expense was spared in filming this adaptation of Tolstoy's great novel. The ball scene has hundreds, and the battle scenes thousands, of costumed extras. Bondarchuk offers both vast spectacle and intimate scenes where fates turn on a single remark or glance.
Across the four separate films that make up War and Peace we follow the intertwined fates of three main characters (and two dozen or so minor ones): the upright-to-a-fault Prince Andrei Bolkonsky; his friend Pierre Bezukhov, whose sudden elevation to wealth and high social status does not bring happiness; and Natasha Rostova, the young woman they both come to love. Their private dramas of sacrifice, betrayal, and reconciliation are set against the public calamities of Napoleon's campaigns, with the last two films featuring the invasion of Russia in 1812, the capture and burning of Moscow, and the grueling retreat of the French Army at the start of the bitter Russian winter.
The justly celebrated battle scenes are mind-boggling in scale, and vividly depict the chaos and brutality of Napoleonic warfare. As you watch the trailer, remind yourself that this is not CGI:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3DqanxfecIA
The most arresting performance among an excellent cast is that of Ludmila Savelyeva as Natasha Rostova. A 19-year-old dancer when she was cast, Savelyeva is radiant as the excited 14-year-old attending her first ball, and over the 7-year course of the story convincingly becomes a sadder, wiser, and more self-aware woman. Bondarchuk himself played Pierre, who is prey to enthusiasms and impulses but who, despite his nearly fatal misadventures, manages to retain a fundamental decency. Vyacheslav Tikhonov was reportedly Bondarchuk's third choice to play Prince Andrei, but he acquits himself nobly.
Prince Andrei (Vyacheslav Tikhonov) and Nastasha Rostova (Ludmila Savelyeva). Image source: The Criterion Collection
It helps to have some familiarity with the novel. Scenes sometimes begin in progress, and the characters aren't always explicitly identified. (I had a hard time telling the roistering soldiers Dolokov (Oleg Yefremov) and Kuragin (Vasily Lanovoy) apart.) And Bondarchuk is a little too fond of "artistic" directorial effects. But these are minor flaws in what is an unforgettable experience. We watched the 403-minute Russian Cinema Council edition of the film released on DVD in 2003; the Criterion Collection has recently issued a 422-minute restoration which is now the definitive version. With this film, more is definitely better.
Honorable mentions, romantic comedy division:
Crazy Rich Asians (2018), written by Peter Chiarelli and Adele Lim based on the novel by Kevin Kwan, directed by Jon M. Chu
Eleanor Young (the great Michelle Yeoh), Nick Young (Henry Golding), and Rachel Chu (Constance Wu) in Crazy Rich Asians. Image source: Juice Online
Isn't It Romantic (2019), written by Erin Cardillo, Dana Fox, and Katie Silberman, directed by Todd Strauss-Schulson
Josh (Adam Devine), Natalie (Rebel Wilson), and Isabella (Priyanka Chopra) in Isn't It Romantic. Image source: Brightest Young Things
Harrowing masterpieces of world cinema aren't the only movies we watch and enjoy; both of these romantic comedies also hit our sweet spot. Crazy Rich Asians was criticized by some on its release as offering a fantasy image of Asian and Asian-American life. To which we respond, it's a romantic comedy, a genre not known for rubbing viewer's faces in gritty realism. Isn't It Romantic cleverly sidesteps the fantasy/reality issue by making most of the film the heroine's dream, and affectionately sending up many rom-com conventions—including the girl who realizes too late that her best friend is her perfect match (see Emma). Crazy Rich Asians embraces those conventions—the girl from a middle-class family rejected by her boyfriend's super-wealthy relatives (see Pride and Prejudice)—in a satisfying way. Both are worth your time if you're a rom-com fan; if you're not, you're sentenced to watch It Happened One Night this weekend.
Honorable mention, classic Bollywood division
Amar Akbar Anthony (1977), screenplay by Prayag Raj, scenario by K. K. Shukla, dialogues by Kader Khan, directed by Manmohan Desai
Amar (Vinod Khanna), Akbar (Rishi Kapoor), and Anthony (Amitabh Bachchan) in disguise. Image source: indianexpress.com
Regular readers of this blog are probably aware that I am not the world's biggest fan of masala, but Amar Akbar Anthony has snuck at least partly under my defenses. After taking the fall for his boss and serving prison time for an accidental death he didn't cause, the poor but honest Kishanlal (Pran) returns home to find his family starving and his wife (Nirupa Roy) dying of tuberculosis. He confronts his gangster boss Robert (Jeevan) for neglecting them in his absence, and after much dishoom-dishoom and a car chase is apparently killed.
Miraculously (a word that has to be used often in summaries of masala plots) Kishanlal survives, and carries off a crate of his boss's gold—a good trick, as a crate of gold that size would weigh more than a ton. But Kishanlal discovers that his wife has gone to commit suicide (thanks to a providential bolt of lightning, she's blinded instead). He takes his three little boys to a park and tells them to wait for him (at the foot of a Gandhi statue, on August 15), but when he returns after his escape from Robert's henchmen they have disappeared. Inadvertently separated and apparently abandoned, they have been taken in by a Catholic priest, a Hindu police officer, and a Muslim tailor (who also finds Ma and brings her home to unknowingly raise her own son). Kishanlal, bereft, vows revenge; he will use his newfound wealth to supplant and humiliate Robert.
Jump cut to 25 years later: Anthony (Amitabh Bachchan) is a two-fisted, good-hearted bhai who rules his lane, Amar (Vinod Khanna) has become a tough but honest cop, and Akbar (Rishi Kapoor) has become a famous qawwali singer. When a blind old woman (guess who—wait, wasn't she dying of tuberculosis 25 years ago?) is hit by a car and needs an emergency transfusion, all three men (who, of course, all share her blood type) volunteer. As the blood of the three strangers who are her unsuspecting Hindu, Muslim and Christian sons mingles in Ma's veins to give her life—symbolism, anyone?—the credits begin to roll. The opening credits; this is just the pre-credit sequence.
Will the family finally recognize one another and be reunited? Will Ma regain her sight and Kishanlal his moral center? Will each of the men find true love (the heroines include Neetu Singh, Parveen Babi and a young Shabana Azmi)? And will they ultimately unite to vanquish the bad guys? Is this a Manmohan Desai movie?
For a typically thoughtful review of the film, please see Philip Lutgendorf's Notes on Indian popular cinema.
Documentary
After I put together this list of favorite documentaries, I realized that all the films on it are about women over 60. That says something noteworthy about this cultural moment.
Joan Jett: Bad Reputation (2018), directed by Kevin Kerslake.
Image source: billboard.com
As a teenager in 1975 Joan Jett founded the Runaways. After the acrimonious split of the band four years later she started over from scratch, recruiting a backup band from musicians in the LA and SF punk scenes (including the drummer from the Avengers). She dubbed them the Blackhearts, and they toured nonstop, selling Jett's self-recorded and -pressed album from the trunk of her manager Kenny Laguna's car. Jett and the Blackhearts went into the studio in 1981 to record another album, their first as a group; the title track was a gender-reversed cover of the glam rock band the Arrows' "I Love Rock 'n' Roll":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQh6heYYOU0
From that same album Joan Jett and the Blackhearts would have a second huge hit with another cover song: Tommy James and the Shondells' "Crimson and Clover." But this time Jett didn't reverse the genders. Some complain that Jett has never made a public statement about her sexuality (as if that's anyone's business but her own). Of course she hasn't—except for the most public statement she could possibly make. Here is a live performance from the mid-1990s:
"Now I don't hardly know her / But I think I can love her / Crimson and clover / When she comes walking over / I've been waiting to show her / Crimson and clover / Over and over / My, my, such a sweet thing / I want to do ever-y-thing / What a beautiful feeling."
Jett is still passionate about performing live; she plays dozens of gigs a year with the Blackhearts (we just missed a chance to see her in July). This documentary features interviews with Jett, her friends and admirers, combined with footage spanning her career—and of course it's filled with her music. Jett seems like someone it would be great to sit down with over beers while she puts another dime in the jukebox, and the movie captures her onstage energy, her fierce integrity, and her delightfully raspy speaking and singing voice. A must for fans; if you aren't one, watch this movie and you will be.
RBG (2018), directed by Betsy West and Julie Cohen.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg. Photographer: Steve Petteway. Image source: Wikimedia Commons
Only the second woman appointed to the Supreme Court (after Sandra Day O'Connor), and the first Jewish woman, Ruth Bader Ginsburg broke barriers throughout her career. In 1956 she was one of only nine women in the entering class at Harvard Law, which included more than 500 men. After transferring to Columbia Law and graduating first in her class, she was rejected from every law firm and clerkship she applied to until some major arm-twisting on the part of one of her law professors. When she joined the faculty of Rutgers Law School in 1963 she was only the 19th woman ever appointed to a tenure-track or tenured law professorship in the United States; when she moved to Columbia Law School in 1972 she became its first tenured female faculty member. [1]
In the early 1970s Ginsburg co-founded the Women's Rights Project at the American Civil Liberties Union, which litigated hundreds of cases of discrimination based on gender. She argued six cases before the Supreme Court, and won five. After serving as a judge for the US District Court of Appeals for more than a decade she was nominated for the Supreme Court in 1993 by Bill Clinton, and was confirmed by a highly partisan Senate 96-3.
The film not only documents Ginsburg's pioneering work for equality under the law. It also succeeds in showing the personal side of this reserved and private person, including the love of opera she shared with the late Antonin Scalia (we see footage from an appearance she made in the speaking role of the Duchess of Krakenthorp in a production of The Daughter of the Regiment at Washington National Opera in 2016). The movie and its subject are delightful; let's fervently hope that Ginsburg chooses not to retire anytime soon.
Tea with the Dames (2018)
The Dames Maggie Smith, Joan Plowright, Eileen Atkins and Judi Dench. Image: NY Times
Four of the greatest actresses of their generation, all Dames Commander—Joan Plowright, Maggie Smith, Judi Dench, and Eileen Atkins—sit down over tea (and as the sun sets, something a bit stronger) and reminisce about their lives and roles. What more do you need to know?
Television
Slings & Arrows (2003-2006), created by Susan Coyne, Bob Martin, and Mark McKinney
Oliver (Stephen Ouimette) offers some unwanted advice to Geoffrey (Paul Gross). Image source: NY Times
Ordinarily my favorites list is limited to movies and TV shows first experienced in the previous 12 months, but this is actually a rewatch. We first saw Slings & Arrows back in 2008 at the suggestion of some dear friends who thought we would love it. They were absolutely right, but at the time I wasn't posting favorites lists. Inspired by coming across the DVD at a thrift store this summer we watched it again, and found it to be just as brilliant and funny the second time.
Set at the New Burbage Shakespeare Festival, Slings & Arrows follows the fortunes of a theater company that bears a striking (but surely coincidental!) resemblance to the Stratford Festival in Ontario. (Richard Burbage was Shakespeare's leading man in the Lord Chamberlain's (later King's) Men, originating the roles of Hamlet, King Lear, and Richard III, among others.)
Geoffrey Tenant (Paul Gross), a former star actor at the festival, is brought in to rescue the festival's season as artistic director after the accidental death of the previous incumbent Oliver Welles (Stephen Ouimette). The festival was the scene of Geoffrey's greatest triumphs and worst failure: he is haunted by the memories of his onstage breakdown during a performance of Hamlet. He's also haunted by Oliver, whose restless spirit can't quite let go; his kibitzing ghost offers sardonic running commentary to Geoffrey, who is of course the only person who can see or hear him (shades of Banquo's ghost). Complicating matters is the presence of Geoffrey's old flame Ellen Fanshaw (Martha Burns), whose betrayal of him with otherwise strictly gay Oliver triggered Geoffrey's breakdown. Geoffrey must do battle with the forces of mediocrity and commercialization represented by the shallow, trend-driven director Darren Nichols (Don McKellar) and the festival's business manager, Richard Smith-Jones (Mark McKinney), whose bland conventionality is doubly signaled by his hyphenated name. (It's really, of course, Richard's capable, overworked and underappreciated assistant Anna Conroy (Susan Coyne) who keeps the festival going.)
Slings & Arrows is brilliantly conceived. Each season centers on the production of a single Shakespeare play: Hamlet, Macbeth, and King Lear. But the other productions of the festival and the barely controlled backstage chaos provide an authentic backdrop for the mainstage drama. And sometimes the backdrop becomes the foreground: in Season 3 a Rent-like musical being workshopped at the festival becomes hugely popular and threatens to crowd out the problem-filled production of Lear.
For anyone who has ever been part of putting on a show either onstage or backstage, Slings & Arrows can be painfully funny. The writers obviously have experience of theaters large and small—scene after carefully-observed scene rings true. But the series is so well-written, -structured and -acted that even those who have only ever been in the front of the house should find it compelling. Highly recommended.
Other favorites of 2019:
- Herma Hill Kay, "Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Professor of Law," Columbia Law Review, v. 104(2), 2004, pp. 2-20. http://scholarship.law.berkeley.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1019&context=facpubs
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