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User seit: 25.08.2006 Beiträge: 3171
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Verfasst am: 24.08.2019 04:36 Titel: Kuroi taiyô - Black Sun (J 1964, K. Kurahara) |
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gesehen am 11.08.2019 (DVD); 3/5
A beautiful film, meticulously structured for all its freewheeling nouvelle vague allusions, and especially with a striking architectural design based mostly on verticality: the towering, threatening high rises in the first few shots, the steep staircase in the burned-out church, the ravine Gil vanishes into and emerges from again, the slope leading into the sea.
Verticality is unsettling, climbing higher doesn´t provide one with a superior position, with oversight, but it makes the world more fragile. The gun, on the other hand, is a tool to keep the world stable, to keep unruly verticality covered by installing fixed lines of sight, fixed power relationships. Though it constantly turns out to be pretty useless, it basically only works, and even then only barely, when your target is right in front of your eyes. The gun finds its true purpose only in the very last scene, when it is used not to battle, but to liberate verticality, to blast away the ties that bind us and enable Gil´s final escape, not towards the sea, but towards the sun.
Heiße Grenze (1959)
Ein Western mit ganz eigenem Rhythmus, 1959, von Robert Parrish, der viele Jahre bei John Fords Filmen den Schnitt besorgte. Der Anfang ist stimmig wie beim Meister, dann fängt der Film an zu hinken, mit Absicht, fast graziös. Robert Mitchum kommt aus Mexiko über den Rio Grande, in der Grenzstadt scheut sein Pferd und stürzt, er bricht sich den Fuß, und man sieht ihn eine halbe Stunde lang auf Krücken. Er verliebt sich in Julie London, Frau des Fort-Kommandanten, die Besatzung besteht aus schwarzen Soldaten. Er geht nach Mexiko zurück, wo er Leibwächter eines fiesen Gouverneurs ist. Sein Pferd heißt Lagrimas, ein schwarzer andalusischer Hengst, der alle Stuten verrückt macht. Nach einem Roman von Tom Lea, der Maler und Muralist war und im Film einen Barbier spielt. Ein moderner Film, schwärmte Bertrand Tavernier, ein road moviewie von Wim Wenders.
Ich bei Tag und Du bei Nacht, Ludwig Berger, 1932
Another marvel, the Pommer style executed in fluid perfection. Unlike the more outward-bound, expansive DER KONGRESS TANZT and DIE DREI VON DER TANKSTELLE, this is a musical of interiors and interiorities, a comedy of mistaken identity folding in on itself: the lovers sleep in the same bed from the start, so it´s just a question of getting them there at the same time; a question of synchronizing, of blending two lives, two space-times - and also two movies - onto each other. This is not about romantic conquest, but about matchmaking and filmmaking becoming one and the same: an artistic practice that gives us access to our own desires.
The first breakthrough happens during a lock-in in Sanssouci, and you realize: this is what these rooms were built for, not for representation of autority, for oppression or for splendor for its own sake, but for Willy Fritsch and Käthe von Nagy discovering each other.
The Gunfighter, Henry King, 1950
Perfectly calibrated. Everyone including the camera is closing in on Peck who spends almost the whole film in a single room, but still manages, at one time, to sneak out, disarm and jail an enemy without anyone noticing.
Indiscreet, Stanley Donen, 1958
A wonderful, almost abstract reconsideration of the 30s screwball comedies. By now, everybody knows all the moves, everyone feels seen all the time, and even if you declare that you don't care about the public: there's no privacy anyway, except, maybe, during a silent elevator ride. Still, embarassment is eternal, so the moment he is exposed as a phony, Cary Grant reverts back to his old, silly self, in the magnificent dancing scene. _________________ "Film is like a battleground: love, hate, action, violence, death. In one word: emotion." |
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