Trouble in Paradise (Ernst Lubitsch, 1932)

"It must be the most marvelous supper. We may not eat it, but it must be marvelous."

Introduction

This is paddling into the Lubitsch territory. Master filmmaker Billy Wilder co-wrote some late-Lubitsch pictures, and turned to him for inspiration on a daily basis by placing a sign on his desk to turn to when in doubt: "What would Lubitsch have done?" was all it read.

Trouble in Paradise is additionally an example of a Pre-Code film. Released in 1932, it was not approved by the Production Code and was refused re-issue in 1935 due to the innuendo and overt sexuality of the characters, and consequently hidden away until 1968. A film that defined "The Lubitsch Touch", containing all the trademark elements of the filmmaker, locked away for over thirty-years is simply tragic. It is difficult to imagine how we would feel if, three years after release, our favourite film vanished, unavailable to easily-access. Truly it is one of those things which we take for granted in a day and age whereby films sit online, to access instantaneously.

Two Thieves in the Night

The set-up is genius as two characters try to out-con each other, only to reveal that they are both thieves. Lily (Miriam Hopkins), a pickpocket, attempts to outsmart Gaston Monescu (Herbert Marshall), a master thief on the run. The intelligence in the script resides in how we, as viewers, do not initially know each character. We are unsure whether Gaston is a thief; and for a moment, we are unsure about Lily too. The story leads us slowly to understand that they are both trying to outsmart each other - eventually falling for each other. This set-up is playful and personal - already establishing the lovers from the get-go.

But it is Gaston's story as he moves into Madame Marriette Colet's (Kay Francis) house, hired as the accountant for her and the perfume business she owns. Inevitably perhaps, the true motive between the two becomes unclear as business and pleasure becomes hazy. Is Gaston falling for Colet? Is Colet falling for Gaston? Is Gaston conning Colet, by pretending to fall for her? We are not told until the final act...

Playfulness

The pace and playfulness of the film is summarised by two sequences that highlight Lubitsch's flair and inventiveness. To depict the daily life of Madame Colet, we see the various greetings she states and others say to her in a series of quick-cuts. Characters repeat the phrase "Hello"/"hello"/"goodbye"/"Hello", etc. We see the many different shop-tailors and assistants speak to her - clearly they know her well. This simple series of events highlight her flippant attitude towards finance and the amount of money she has. To some extent, it is clear that she is quite foolish and unaware about how open she is with her money.

The second sequence that captures the skill of Lubitsch is when the camera remains static on a clock as we hear the commotion surrounding the clock at different intervals to represent the passing of time. Again, a slight change in lighting and sound is what clarifies the situation - and it is effortless as we imagine the surrounding elements. In a similar manner, in one scene, Gaston and Colet kiss on a sofa as it fades out and then, fading back in, it reveals the empty sofa and then cuts to the characters walking between rooms. Without a line in the script; without a revealing shot; the characters have had sex.

A Social Balance

A story that revolves around theft from the upper class will always have a clear agenda regarding its social context. Indeed, our introduction to Madame Colet supports our disgust with the wealth of the upper class when she purchases a hand bag for $125,000. She loses it and, upon placing an advert in the paper for finding the bag, many people arrive to - potentially - gain the reward. One man argues our own opinion and shouts at her "fool! fool!" with regards to spending such an amount of money on a handbag.

But, considering the small cast, the tension lies in Gaston and his attitude. His criminal lifestyle, we wonder, is it through greed or envy. Does he simply want to take everything? Or does he, deep down, seek to be the same upper-class accountant he purports to be? His love for her fueled by a lust for the same equal stance in society - indeed, his dialect and posture indicates a clear understanding of the upper-class.

Such a tension how, on the surface it is merely a man choosing who he really loves whilst, bubbling under the narrative, is a personal conflict regarding wealth, status and the definition of greed. I can see where Billy Wilder managed to get the confidence to tackle stories of such sadness and sorrow (such as The Lost Weekend and Double Indemnity) in a manner that is light and playful - Lubitsch does it here in Trouble in Paradise. Walking out of a cinema and, despite laughing and smiling whilst watching the film, you ponder the  Western attitudes to class, really is a testament to film-making that aspires to be so much more than entertainment.

Do The Right Film

Whereby I discuss the choice to pay to watch a film ...

Those of you who follow me on Twitter may have noticed a back-and-forth between myself and a number of other bloggers regarding writer Adam Batty from www.hopelies.com and his twitter-comment of the recent Hitchcock. He wrote:

"Hitchcock was dreadful, and in Hopkins contains the worst performance of the year, if not the decade." - @AdamHopeLies

I think the big issue is regarding my own RT of his tweet - despite not seeing the film myself.

Should I remain resolute? Should I cease to comment or reveal my incoming-opinion, formed by the writers I read?

The nature of film-blogging and writing on film, often gives the impression that we are on a quest to view every film on release; that we staunchly hold our judgement until we watch the film. There is a truth to this when those who haven't seen a film passionately defend or insult a film - clearly that is an uninformed and uneducated opinion.

But we are all a product of our own foibles and experiences. We know what type of film we like and what we will expect when viewing a film. Trailers, reviews and 'tweets' all give a hint about what we could expect.

Though critics and opinions can be completely against our own, the opinion on Hitchcock is out. Adam's tweet - alongside countless other critics negative views - means that the film is unlikely to be a knockout. Maybe I'll like it a little bit more than the general consensus - but statistically, its is exceptionally unlikely that it will get into my best films of the year. I'll reserve any type of true judgement until I see it - but the bottom line is, I have to make a decision as to which films I will watch; and which ones I don't.

And Hitchcock, despite being a fan of The Master of Suspense's canon, I don't initially plan on seeing. And I make no apology for this. If I am sent to 'cover' it on behalf of a website or publication; I will. Happily. But to pay for it? Nope. I've yet to see Amour, Silver Linings Playbook or Seven Psychopaths. I also have a stack of films on my 'to-watch' list including New York, New York, Crimes and Misdemeanors and The Rescuers. My time is too precious - and they all take precedent.

I will not watch a film because it is touted as an Oscar contender (we shall see...) - and I surely won't pay to watch it purely for an opinion. There are hundreds of films that are in the vessels of history that have earned awards - but I haven't seen them. This time next year, I ask myself, will Hitchcock be remembered? Indeed, will it earn any awards at all? Why should a film, simply due to its timely release and excessive publicity garner my attention over others? It needs to be relevant and important enough to gain my time and currently, Hitchcock has not gained that attention from me.

Ironically, I saw a trailer for the 'other' Hitchcock-bio film - The Girl, and, so far, it has gained my attention.

Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941)

"I guess Rosebud is just a... piece in a jigsaw puzzle... a missing piece"

Introduction

After analysing every film in the Sight & Sound Top 10, we finish on Citizen Kane. Of course we do. Only now has the film been “dethroned” from the top spot, after residing there for 50 years. Truly, it earned its place. Should it remain untouchable? Surely it shouldn’t remain at the top of the poll forever, should it? I would be happy if it did. If, as all the films swapped and interchanged – many vanishing from the Top 10 completely – I would firmly, indefinitely and concretely ensure Citizen Kane remains. Ground-breaking, profound and personal and created by a genius; I support its immovability. What a shame then, that it moved down a spot in 2012.

Orson Welles

The starting point is always Orson Welles. Akin to Leonardo Da Vinci’s ‘Mona Lisa’, Citizen Kane has become mythic in its status in history partly due to the creator, and the many talents he had. We are fascinated by writer-directors – and we often laugh at the audacity of their self-casting within films like Reservoir Dogs and Signs. Orson Welles chose not-only to write, direct and produce the film; he also took the titular role; portraying a man from his young-twenties through to old-age. This brave decision is the type of choice that oozes genius – supreme confidence and, crucially, the correct casting.

Welles has a cherub-like charm that carries the film on his shoulders alone – and features that remain when he is made-up to look like an old man. The film covers the rise and fall; life and death of Charles Foster Kane; a shrewd businessman; a political force; a paranoid recluse. Partly influenced by the life and times of the media-magnate William Randolph Hearst, it was a film of its time that, through Hearst’s influence, newspaper coverage was slim – and it failed at the box-office. But, a good film doesn’t hide away and positive reviews kept the film known. Bit-by-bit, Citizen Kane became the masterpiece as it is known today. It’s also worth noting that Welles was only 24 years old he made the film – and to think that he achieved all this at such a youthful age adds to his genius status.

Writing, Direction … and Innovation

But Welles was not alone in creating the film. He co-wrote the script, and the story is broken-up, told from the perspective of a reporter investigating the final word Kane stated on his deathbed: “Rosebud”. We are told about Kane through his friends, family and lover – and the different perspectives reveal a different side to him. He was a public figure – a showman. But, socially and personally, he had identity issues – isolating himself from the world in an incomplete fortress - Xanadu. He pines after his childhood, symbolised by his precious sled; the aforementioned “Rosebud”.

Pauline Kael argued that this story is what certifies Citizen Kane as a masterpiece – and, rather than crediting Orson Welles with this, she supported a popular opinion that co-writer Herman J. Mankiewicz is the real master behind the film.

But, the story alone is not what separates this film from the rest of the pack. Technically, the film is almost a how-to use-a-camera tool-kit. Dissecting each scene, you can find numerous techniques that were ahead of their time – everything from the ground-breaking use of deep-focus (though Mizoguchi used it before 1941) through to the continuous shot from behind a gate and, despite the instruction to not trespass, we do, by hovering over and into Xanadu. One shot, revealing a lover of Welles manages to pass through a glass roof and another shot is situated in the ground, looking at such an angle that Welles had to adjust the flooring to get so low. Gregg Toland is attributed to the majority of these techniques – but again, it was Welles that managed to include the young Toland in his production crew.

Bernard Herrman’s score is simply fascinating – changing completely as the scene adapts to suit the different perspective discussed. The casting includes the scene-stealing Joseph Cotton, who would go on to appear in Shadow of a Doubt and The Third Man. The make-up to give the impression that 24-year old Welles would look like an aging man – inspired by Make Way for Tomorrow – is flawless, still standing the test of time today. The list goes on and on.

So much more…

Barry Norman writes how the film “speaks afresh to each succeeding generation” and this truly is Orson Welles crowning achievement. It is no surprise that people compared this to The Social Network (not that it compares that much) – but I’m sure you could find countless biopics and life-stories that owe a debt to Citizen Kane. Indeed, most films owe a debt to Citizen Kane. This is a film that has influenced almost every successful or critically-acclaimed director – Spielberg, Scorsese, Paul Thomas Anderson … and everyone else. This short analysis is not enough – and indeed, there are many books available to support every different aspect which has established this film amongst the very best. I cannot think of a film amongst the Top 10 that is accessible and yet technically ground-breaking, and also created in such a unique set of circumstances that it could never be remade. It is the film you would use as an argument to prove that films from the 1940’s are incredible. It is a film you would use to convince someone that these lists matter. And it is a film that, despite its shift from the top spot in the poll, will never be truly removed. As it remains the Greatest Film of All-Time in virtually every other poll in the world. And I whole-heartedly agree.

Epilogue: This brings to a close an analysis of every film in the 2012 Top 10 Greatest Films of All-Time. I hope you attempt the same challenge and, when you do, read the previous analysis linked below:

10. 8 1/2 (Fellini, 1963)

9. The Passion of Joan of Arc (Dreyer, 1927)

8. Man with a Movie Camera (Vertov, 1929)

7. The Searchers (Ford, 1956)

6. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Kubrick, 1968)

5. Sunrise (Murnau, 1927)

4. La Regle de Jeu (Renoir, 1939)

3. Tokyo Story (Ozu, 1953)

2. Citizen Kane (Welles, 1941)

1. Vertigo (Hitchcock, 1956)

Great Expectations (Mike Newell, 2012)

"Do you wish to see Miss Havishman?"

Introduction

As the closing-night film of the London Film Festival, I believed Mike Newell’s Great Expectations was clearly re-imagining a classic story for modern audiences. Rather than following in the footsteps of Alfonso Cuaron, whereby his 1998 Great Expectations was set in modern-day New York starring Gwyneth Paltrow, Ethan Hawke and Robert De Niro, this interpretation harks back further to David Lean’s original rather than any contemporary piece. Written by David Nicholl’s (Writer and Director of One Day), this film clearly attempts to gain the interest of a younger audience, despite its period-setting. The trailer tells us “from the Director of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire” and ensures Helena Bonham Carter recalls her Tim-Burton-esque roles as the unsettling Miss Havisham. Lead-role ‘Pip’ is played by Jeremy Irvine, coming off his War Horse, and his rugged “old-fashioned-but-not-really” look seems to clearly target the Robert Pattinson fans. I fear that this Great Expectations will surely guarantee many school-trips and repeatable-viewings in English lessons – and may even con a few teenagers into paying for a ticket on a Friday night.

A Classic Story

The story presents us with Pip, a young-boy (Toby Irvine) who, upon visiting the grave of his Mother, is approached by an escaped-convict Magwitch (Ralph Fiennes). Pip manages to smuggle food to Magwitch, alongside stealing an axe to remove the chains. Soon after, Pip is sent for to ‘play’ in the house of Miss Havisham (Helena Bonham Carter) – a wide-eyed recluse – who has an adopted daughter in Estella (Helena Barlow). The class-divide is clear as Pip is the son of a blacksmith (Jason Flemyng) whilst Estella, living in the mansion with Miss Havisham, clearly has a high-opinion of herself - apparently raised to break the hearts of men. Through an unfortunate event, Pip stops visiting the mansion and continues to support his family as a blacksmith – until a lawyer, Jaggers (Robbie Coltrane), reveals that an anonymous bidder has ‘Great Expectations’ for Pip (now played by Jeremy Irvine) and will pay for him to live in London to become a ‘Gentleman’…

The story is renowned for its depiction of the social-divide and the attitudes people have to wealth and success. The definition of success in the family of Pip - happiness, marriage and love - opposed to the isolation and loneliness of Miss Havisham are all facets which, from the first act, you clearly appreciate. The type of criminal Magwitch is – opposed to the sins of other characters, are revealed through the story and again highlight an injustice between those of affluence, and those without. The setting between the country and landscape of Kent, opposed to the dirty hustle and bustle of London, again, portray the two differing attitudes to life – and the huge divide and difference between living an urban lifestyle rather than living in the rural outsider counties. These are timeless details which relate directly to the original literature by Charles Dickens.

Kent in all it’s Glory

Considering how important location is in Great Expectations, it is a god-send that the highlight of the film is in the depiction of Kent. The wide-shots portraying the vast landscapes manage to capture something mythic about the area - such beauty in the land is something that is core to the film. How would an alternate-version of the story look? Whereby the city-life was praised opposed to the muddy and dull country? At any rate, the stunning locale is highlighted by sunlight reflecting on the water whilst horses and carriages gently roll across the Isle of Sheppey.

But ironically, outside of Kent, the setting seems to feel quite small-in-scale. For a different website, I wrote an analysis of David Lean’s Great Expectations, discussing how it managed to capture the fascination with old-traditions represented by the decaying-house – in 1946, Lean's version followed Xanadu in Citizen Kane and Manderlay in Hitchcock’s Rebecca. In the current climate, it seems that this new-version follows on from The Woman in Black, and the gothic house which ‘the woman’ resided within. The Georgian context, though the accurate time period, is also difficult to truly grasp with regards to London itself. The streets of London often feel false whilst many rooms and locations are imitations of the sets within Lean’s film - for example the stuffy and disorganised offices of Jaggers. The sheer scale of the film is only effective when we are within the countryside – whereas within London, it feels smaller and tight.

Success within Schools

Last year, when The Woman in Black was released, students in schools were all whisked away to the cinema at different points. Many were directed to attend a screening over the half-term as Susan Black’s short-book was used as a text in the English GCSE. Everything about Mike Newell’s Great Expectations seems to reek of the same thing. Harry-Potter cast members in Helena Bonham Carter, Ralph Fiennes and Robbie Coltrane – alongside the direction of Mike Newell target the teenagers of today. The Robert-Pattinson look of Jeremy Irvine with a love-triangle between Pip, Estella (Holliday Grainger channelling the femininity of Christina Hendricks in Mad Men) and “Bentley Drummle” (Ben Lloyd Hughes) seems to echo the Twilight series. Even Holliday Grainger has starred alongside Robert Pattinson in Bel-Ami and The Bad Mother’s Handbook – is she the ‘go-to’ girl for R-Patz’s love-interest?

It is 200 years since the birth of ‘Charles Dickens’, creating buzz and purpose to produce a version of the story before the year is out. Indeed, the BBC had a version recently starring Gillian Anderson, David Suchet and Ray Winstone. The production has ticked all the relevant boxes to ensure that the film garners success – free advertising through the Dickens relevance; a film which Grandparents and Parents alike will want to take their families – as teachers and schools will flock to maximise the use of a current trend in classic literature… and, who knows, some Twilight and Harry Potter fans may see the poster and go in on the actors credentials alone! But as a film, Jeremy Irvine is weak and wooden as Pip; Helena Bonham Carter – though effective – feels like she is simply phoning-in a character she has played before whilst Ralph Fiennes is criminally under-used. Everyone else, director included, seems to look to David Lean for some type of credible reference point. So why not simply watch the original? I doubt this will go in the history books – but I’m sure it will be in English exercise books for the next five years. At least until The Great Gatsby comes out...

La Règle de Jeu (Jean Renoir, 1939)

“You forget she belongs to society; the rules are strict”

Introduction

The only film that has featured consistently in the Top 10 of the Sight & Sound poll since 1952 is La Règle de Jeu. Translated as The Rules of the Game, this film has an air of authority. Personally, the film could be seen as a perfunctory inclusion in the poll – critics assuming a Top 10 simply wouldn’t be complete without Renoir. Against that, the film explores an interesting social-context and holds a controversial edge as it pre-dated World War II, highlighting the attitudes prevalent in France in 1939. Considering how much I adore the socio-economic themes in The Dark Knight trilogy – and thoroughly enjoy researching the time-period a film is released within, this is a film I am happy to get my teeth into. Prior to production of the film, Jean Renoir himself described the film as “An exact description of the bourgeoisie of our time”. Just what I like – and hate – in equal measure.

Upstairs and Downstairs

Adapted loosely from Alfred de Musset’s ‘Les Caprices de Marianne’, La Règle de Jeu begins as pilot André Jurieux (Roland Toutain) completes an epic flight – which, upon finishing, realises that the woman he loves, Christine (Nora Gregor … reminding me of Kristin Scott Thomas), is not waiting to greet him. The story soon turns into a social gathering, whereby we are introduced to a broad range of characters, with a small group of interlinking stories that cross boundaries of class and social etiquette. Philip Kemp summarises it perfectly in the liner notes for the release:

“André Jurieux… loves Christine, wife of the Marquis de la Chesnaye (Marcel Dalio). La Chesnaye, for his part, is having a covert affair with socialite Geneviève (Mila Parély). Chesnaye’s gamekeeper, Schumacher (Gaston Modot), is violently jealous of his wife Lisette (Paulette Dubost), Christine’s maid, whom he suspects is dallying with poacher-turned valet Marceau (Julien Carette)”

Interestingly, Renoir himself portrays one character in Octave, a friend of all, who seems to always be the one man attempting to balance and bring order to the complex lives of the various characters – but deep down holds his own candle for Christine. This is a film that stylistically has influenced films including Gosford Park and, despite my own disinterest in the series, Tim Robey writes that it could even be described as “Downton Abbey for film snobs”. But it is this fascinating social-order which, on the one hand remains interesting as a context, but on the other connects to the politics of the time and arguably, the elitism of the upper-class today.

Standing in a doorway

Technically, the film is marvellous. As a private drama, the camera lingers often in the scene – it roams around, almost following someone. If regularly lurks in the doorways and hallways as if we are personally at the gathering leaning on the door-frame, viewing the event. In one marvellous sequence we join the group on a hunt, whereby rabbits and pheasants are shot. Initially, Octave discusses with Jurieux his increasing frustration with Christine – before we view animals at peace, centre frame, enjoying the woodland. As expected, sticks are beaten; horns are blown; the upper-class waits with their rifles. Initially camera-shots are calm and peaceful, but soon the editing picks up in pace. We cut from running rabbits, the camera frantically trying to capture their movement; cut-to a man shooting his rifle, and another man shooting his own gun; cut-to a rabbit’s death and a pheasant flapping helplessly before being mercilessly killed. One rabbit wreaths in pain after the camera has tracked him, before suddenly grinding to a halt and lingering on the death of this poor animal. Seconds later the group talk and laugh about the death of a hunter whose gun exploded on his thigh. So flippant is the idea of death.

“Everything in it – not just the relationships, but also every character’s presumption of their place in the scheme of things – is wobbling on a precipice.” -Tim Robey

Suffice to say the film ends in tragedy. The one character that has spent the entire film attempting to break past the boundaries of social class is the one character that loses his life in the closing act - Richard Pẽna writes how his sacrifice is to ensure that “a corrupt social order can remain intact”. Barry Norman manages to aptly describe the group – indeed the entire sect of society Renoir depicts as “… a decadent society which is already destroying itself” with a subtext that casts a “critical and mocking eye on the state of France and its destructive class system as world war threatened”. The true tragedy was the events that took place in Europe shortly afterwards.

Unsuccessful

On the film’s original release it was panned by the French government and a commercial disaster. Prior to its initial release, it was chopped up and reconfigured to an 88-minute run-time – only to be banned completely. It was only in 1956 before reels of footage was found and reconfigured – to become a 113-minute film, revealed at the Venice Film Festival in 1959 – did it become the classic we know today. It’s also worth noting how the first poll in Sight & Sound was conducted in 1952 … so I question the standard of the print viewed by critics who voted for the film, seven years before the viewing in Venice.

But it is clear that this film is hailed by critics due to the multiple layers that Renoir weaves throughout. It captures a specific area of society over a short period of time – and yet it also presents France, as a country, in a way that was so poignant that it became highly controversial. It is a film that subtly manages to present an important, crucial time-period in a manner that realises how flexible film truly is. When a critic strikes parallels in the deep subtext of a film; when a critic believes they can see through the playfulness of a blockbuster to reveal a deeper meaning that highlights the attitude of the film director. This is a film that clearly demonstrates how cinema should aspire to present bigger, profound and epic issues - and the scale of the story is no limitation.