Criterion

by Erik McClanahan

 

Diabolique (The Devils) – Henri-Georges Clouzot (1955)

Apparently Alfred Hitchcock desperately wanted to make this film, adapted from the novel C’elle qui n’etait plus by Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac (who also wrote D'entre les morts, of which Hitchcock’s classic Vertigo was based), but Clouzot beat him to the book’s editor by a reported 30 minutes. Both directors respected the hell out of each other’s work, and Hitchcock said this was a major influence on Psycho. As much as I love Hitchcock, Clouzot was the right choice to helm this dark and twisty suspense yarn that—of course—has been often imitated and—surprise—remade in to a bogus 1996 Hollywood thriller starring Sharon Stone and Chazz Palminteri. Clouzot, like Hitchcock, was way ahead of his time, as evidenced by the female characters Christina and Nicole (Véra Clouzot and Simone Signoret), who hatch a plan to murder Christina’s jerk of a husband (Paul Meurisse). The film is set in a French boarding school for boys. Christina, sick of her abusive husband, is coaxed into murder by feisty Nicole. This is the way twist-filled plots should unfold in films: slow, suspenseful and deranged. The film’s climax holds up considerably well even today as an incredibly frightening horror sequence. Shocking and suspenseful, and I love the warning given by Clouzot in the end credits not give away the film’s twists and plot. No features; and Criterion should consider reissuing a better print of the film if possible.

 

The Vanishing (Spoorloos) – George Sluizer – (1988)

A film I only saw recently, and what an intense, psychological experience. Dutch writer-director Sluizer unfortunately also directed the insipid remake of the same name in 1993, only furthering the notion that Americans need to learn to deal with subtitles and watch the original. The film—itself an adaptation of the book The Golden Egg by Tim Krabbé—concerns Dutch couple Rex and Saskia (played by Gene Bervoets and Johanna ter Steege) as they travel through the French landscape. Sluizer gives us glimpses of the pair’s relationship through minor, realistic conversations and tiffs. After a stop at a busy gas station, Saskia disappears. Rex becomes obsessed with finding her, and looks for three years. The film also tells the simultaneous story of Raymond (played with malevolent and cold creepiness by Bernard-Pierre Donnadieu). We’re not sure at first why the film shifts from Rex’s perspective to Raymond’s, but soon we learn that he is most likely the one who nabbed Saskia as we watch his meticulous training to pull off the perfect kidnapping. The film is an exercise in detailing human behavior and thrilling suspense, thanks to Sluizer’s deft handling of the material. I dare not give away the ending, but suffice to say that it has been referenced in films by David Fincher and Quentin Tarantino. Disturbing but brilliant, The Vanishing is one of the smartest films of the eighties. Unfortunately the criterion DVD has no special features (except the original theatrical trailer), but the film is worthy enough on its own, and it looks fantastic.

 

Chasing Amy – Kevin Smith (1997)

“Watching this film, the viewer can find me in every nook and cranny…this flick, more than the other two [Clerks, Mallrats], is me on a slab, laid out for the world to see,” Kevin Smith muses in the Criterion DVD liner notes of this fascinating film, part character study part hilarious romantic comedy. Chasing Amy is the kind of story that makes me fall in love with independent film all over again. It inspires me. Fills me with passion when I realize how personal an art medium film can be. Movies can be this low budget, this simple, and still be brilliant. After the success of Clerks, and the embarrassment of Mallrats, Smith clearly dug deep inside his own psyche and spilled on to the page a tender and realistic script about modern relationships and, especially, modern men dealing with modern woman. Gone are the lame sophomoric hi-jinks of Mallrats and instead we have an intelligent film that, in the wrong hands, could have been a revolting disaster. Even Jay and Silent Bob (Jason Mewes and Smith) are intelligent in their scene. Amy is the story of Holden (Ben Affleck, never better), a comic book artist with his pal Banky (Jason Lee, never better), and he meets Alyssa (Joey Lauren Adams, never….you get the idea). Holden quickly feels a connection to Alyssa, only to soon find out that she is a lesbian. The rest is often hilarious, often sad, but all too real, even if you’ve never dated a lesbian. Kevin Smith will never make a film this good, his crowning achievement. Great features, especially the commentary with Smith, producer Scott Mosier, Affleck and Mewes.

 

The Royal Tenenbaums – Wes Anderson (2001)

As much as I love the film itself, it would be unfair to ignore Criterion’s beautiful packaging of Wes Anderson’s idiosyncratic masterpiece. Made to look like a used, hardcover novel (appropriate since Anderson is so obviously influenced by novels he read when he was young) complete with fake wear-and-tear creases (similar to the cover of Pulp Fiction), Tenenbaums is every DVD-collector's dream item. A two-disc set with loads of insightful special features and two inserts filled with the unique art of Wes’s brother, Eric Anderson. Eric does the concept art and created a complete layout of the Tenenbaum house that is so detailed it’s no wonder Wes’s films are so special. Royal Tenenbaums was Anderson’s follow-up to his other masterpiece, Rushmore, and this is when the fantastic writer-director cemented his style of deadpan, character-driven humor. Wes Anderson is one of the few young filmmakers working today that has a distinctive visual style and a clear-cut writing style (this being his third collaboration with former college roommate Owen Wilson). It takes about a minute to recognize his movies. The film is about Royal (a hilarious Gene Hackman) as he tries to win back the affection of his estranged family: wife Anjelica Huston, sons Luke Wilson and Ben Stiller, and adopted daughter Gwyneth Paltrow. The film is made to look like a novel complete with chapters and inspired narration by Alec Baldwin (a genius choice by Anderson). What could have been a pretentious mess turns out to be one of the best films of the 2000’s.

 

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou – Wes Anderson (2004)

Wes Anderson’s most ambitious, but personal film in my opinion, The Life Aquatic saw a departure of sorts for the immensely talented auteur. Replacing writing partner Owen Wilson (though he still stars as Zissou’s possible son) with Noah Baumbach (writer-director of the fantastic Squid and the Whale) didn’t give this film a different feel from Anderson’s previous efforts. The usual visual flares, fatherly subtext and soundtrack selections are apparent here as well, but infused with a more adventuresome aspect not seen in the director’s previous three films. Some fans were disappointed, but I found it to be Anderson’s most underrated film. It’s Wes’s movie about filmmaking, and how he feels about it, as well as a personal statement to all his critics. Two scenes make this evident: the one where Steve Zissou (Bill Murray) overhears some people making fun of his hair and saying his films aren’t as good as they used to be (Anderson has heard this before), and the scene where Steve takes his crew underwater to view the Jaguar Shark and they all sit in amazement like children enjoying something they’ve never fathomed before. Bill Murray is absolutely hilarious (big surprise there) as the title character, a summation of all the Jacques Cousteau books and documentaries that Anderson loved when growing up. This is a film that rewards on multiple viewings, growing deeper and more complex than what the surface shows. A visual delight as well, most notably the sequence where Steve travels through the halls and up the stairs of his ship in one continuous take. The two-disc Criterion box isn’t as cool as the Rushmore or Tenenbaums sets, but it still has loads of special features and more concept art from Eric Anderson. A great film.

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