CRIME, COSTUMES, AND MASKS

By Raymond Benson

Apparently the French had their own Batman-like character in the early days of silent film. Created by Louis Feuillade and Arthur Bernède, Judex (“judge” in Latin) was a crime-fighting avenger that appeared in silent serials in 1916-17. The character was resurrected once in 1934 in a sound feature, and once again in 1963 by celebrated director Georges Franju. The Criterion Collection has seen fit to release Judex, this later version, on Blu-ray and DVD in a dual format package. The results are splendid.

Judex doesn’t bother to disguise his face when he’s in character. He wears a black cape and a Zorro-like hat. You could say he’s kind of like The Shadow. By day, though, he applies old-age makeup and assumes the role of Vallieres, the right-hand man to an evil banker. Judex is in love with the banker’s daughter, Jacqueline, who is played by Franju regular Édith Scrob, the thin doe-eyed actress who was creepily effective in the director’s excellent horror film, Eyes Without a Face (also on Criterion). Judex himself is played by an American stage magician, Channing Pollock, who curiously has little screen presence but performs a lot of impressive sleight-of-hand in the picture.

The crime-fighter and his team (a group of guys all dressed in black) quickly disposes of the evil banker and locks him away, but Jacqueline is kidnapped by the family’s governess, Diana (superbly played by Francine Bergé), who in reality is a masked Catwoman-like criminal. She plans to hold Jacqueline for ransom, that is, until Judex comes to the rescue.

It sounds like an episode from the 1966 Batman television show, but in fact, Judex is stylish and in some spots very surreal. For example, the scene in which the banker is “poisoned” (actually drugged by Judex) is a masked ball. The attendees’ costumes—many of which are birds—are bizarre and unsettling. Franju turns the pulp material into something rather poetic, despite numerous holes and flights of fancy in the plot.

Also notable is that Franju seems to be more interested in his villain than in Judex. Bergé’s Diana is the most engaging character and has the most screen time in the film. In a 2012 video interview extra with the actress, Bergé reveals that she was told to simply play “evil”—and that’s what she does, with a capital “E.” It’s her performance that makes Judex a fascinating piece of celluloid.

The Blu-ray looks great with its new 2K digital restoration. Extras include a 2007 interview with co-writer Jacques Champreux and an excellent 50-minute documentary of Franju’s career. The best extras are two Franju shorts—one is a documentary about a Paris military complex; the second one, a film about filmmaker/magician Georges Méliès (who is played by Méliès’ son), is almost worth the price of the entire package. The enclosed booklet contains an essay by critic Geoffrey O’Brien and an interview with Franju.

Cool stuff!

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“HEARTS AND MINDS” (1974; directed by Peter Davis)

(The Criterion Collection)

‘LEST WE FORGET

By Raymond Benson

The Academy Award for Best Documentary of 1974 went to the controversial and incendiary Hearts and Minds, the first big movie about the Vietnam War that attempted to prove to the world that America made a huge mistake. A lot of people didn’t like that being said.

Produced by Bert Schneider (of BBS Productions fame—Easy Rider, Five Easy Pieces, The Last Picture Show, many others) and director Peter Davis, the documentary is most definitely one-sided in its arguments. The entire film is shaped and edited to present the most anti-war statement possible, as well as put a bad light on the men in power that made the decisions to go to war in the first place.

You can imagine that in 1974 this was not an easy pill to swallow. Never mind that the picture is brilliantly made—the footage is unbelievably powerful and sometimes very difficult to watch. Remember those photos of the little Vietnamese girl running naked down the road, a victim of a Napalm attack? Well, in the movie, you see film footage in color of that very scene as it happened. The same is true of the famous photo depicting the execution by gunshot of a Vietcong prisoner in the street by a Saigon police chief. In Hearts and Minds, we don’t see the still photo, we see the actual killing, again in color. These are among the many horrific imagery contained in the picture, much of it stock footage. However, most of the running time is taken up by interviews with guys like General William Westmoreland, Clark Clifford (Secretary of Defense 1968-1969), Walt Rostow (aide to Kennedy and Johnson), Daniel Elsberg (former aide to Defense Department), and many other talking heads. Most of them come off as windbags spouting stuff we now know is simply not true (General Westmoreland: “The Oriental doesn’t put the same high price on life as does a Westerner.”).

The film is obviously divisive as to which side of the aisle you reside—liberal or conservative. I’m sure even today there are plenty of conservatives who still believe we were right to go to Vietnam. While this column is meant to be a review of the documentary, I think I can safely say that history has proven that the liberals were right all along. Looking back at this picture now, it simply reconfirms what we should have learned from the mistakes made.

The Criterion Collection has re-issued Hearts and Minds in a dual format—Blu-ray and DVD (three disCs)—in a high-definition digital restoration supervised by director Davis and cinematographer Richard Pearce. The audio commentary is by Davis. Added to this new release are over two hours of unused footage, including interviews of people not seen in the film (e.g. David Brinkley). Overkill? Perhaps, but for war history buffs who want to dig into the depths of this admittedly biased but fascinating condemnation of a black mark in our time, then don’t miss Hearts and Minds.

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THEY BOUGHT US LOVE

By RAYMOND BENSON 

Released in the summer of 1964, A Hard Day’s Night, starring The Beatles and directed by Richard Lester, is arguably the second most influential British film of that decade (the first being Goldfinger, coincidentally released the same year.). Why? For one thing, it brought The Beatles to a worldwide audience that was just getting to know them through their music. Secondly, it spawned imitations and knock-offs (The Monkees, anyone?) and is arguably the genesis of music videos—where would MTV have been without it? Thirdly, the film itself was innovative, fresh, and surprisingly funny (those long-haired boys from Liverpool could actually act!).

One of the best things about the Criterion Collection’s new deluxe box set of the film (dual Blu-ray and DVD, three discs) is the short extra, On the Road to “A Hard Day’s Night,” an interview with author Mark Lewisohn, that documents how The Beatles did not magically appear on The Ed Sullivan Show in February 1964, already brilliant, already at the top of their game. In fact, as every serious Beatles fan knows, their story began in 1958 when John Lennon met Paul McCartney in Liverpool at the ages of seventeen and fifteen, respectively, and they started playing music together and writing songs (George joined not long after at age fourteen!). The first four years embodied a lot of work gaining experience, honing their skills, and creating an act that would change not only music itself, but pop culture. The Hamburg days, the early shows with Pete Best, the gigs for peanuts, the obtaining of managers (first Allan Williams, then Brian Epstein), auditioning for producer George Martin, being rejected by a major record label, and then finally landing a contract with one—these were all things none of us in America were aware of when we watched the four lads perform on Ed Sullivan. What we saw was a tight, talented band, and it seemed as if they’d come from nowhere. (Apologies to UK readers, who of course knew how great the band was all through 1963.)

Anyway—on to A Hard Day’s Night. Kudos to United Artists executive David Picker, who greenlit a three-picture deal with producer Walter Shenson (Picker was also responsible for green-lighting Dr. No, a little picture featuring a character named James Bond). Picker had the foresight to make the deal with The Beatles in 1963, well before the band’s appearance on U.S. television. Apparently his instincts were good. If he hadn’t done it then, someone else would have much later, and I dare say the results would not have been as good.

It was no accident that American director Richard Lester was hired to helm the movie, either. He was living in the UK and had directed British television, especially those crazy guys known as the Goons (Spike Milligan, Peter Sellers, Harry Secombe), who were forerunners of that type of English humor we Americans found odd but grew to love, especially by the time Monty Python came around. The Beatles were fans of the Goons, so they figured Lester was their guy. It was a perfect match. Lester not only brought out that odd British humor, but he also combined the elements of the British New Wave in cinema (the “kitchen-sink dramas” of the “angry young men”) and the French New Wave (radical editing, improvisation, hand-held camerawork, low budget), and created something very new.

And then there’s the music. Did you know that the song, “A Hard Day’s Night,” was written overnight, on demand by producer Shenson, because they needed something that matched the title? Not only was it a good song, it was a massive hit song! Imagine that... “Hey boys, could you write a number with the title in it?” “Sure, Walter, we’ll have it for you in the morning.” Bang. Oh. My. God. And that’s not to mention all the other great tunes in the film. (For my money, the UK version of A Hard Day’s Night, the album, is one of The Beatles’ five best records.)

As this is a Criterion release, you can expect nothing but an outstanding transfer of the film itself—4K digital restoration, approved by Lester, with three audio options—monaural soundtrack, a stereo 5.1 surround mix, and a DTS-HD master audio on the Blu-ray. Wow. There’s also an audio commentary by some of the cast and crew.

The extras are wonderful—some we’ve seen before, but others are new. A nice piece on Lester, Picturewise, is narrated by Rita Tushingham and features Lester’s early work (and there’s the obligatory inclusion of Lester’s The Running Jumping & Standing Still Film). In Their Own Voices is a new piece mixing 1964 interviews with The Beatles with behind-the-scenes footage and photos. A longer 1994 documentary, “You Can’t Do That: The Making of ‘A Hard Day’s Night’” by producer Shenson, also includes an outtake performance by the band. Things They Said Today is a 2002 documentary about the film featuring interviews with Lester, Martin, screenwriter Alun Owen, and cinematographer Gilbert Taylor. And there’s more, much more.

Can’t buy me love? Forget it! The Beatles, Walter Shenson, Richard Lester, David Picker, and everyone else involved with the film certainly bought enough love for us... and we’re still basking in it.

The Criterion Collection’s A Hard Day’s Night is a must-buy.

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OH, THE SCANDAL!

By Raymond Benson

Director Douglas Sirk was known primarily for his “adult” melodramas of the 1950s that usually dealt with bucking the small-town America social mores of the times. All That Heaven Allows is a prime example. In lush, bold Technicolor (the superb cinematography is by Russell Metty), Sirk tells the story of a May-September romance between an “older” widow and a younger man (in actuality, star Jane Wyman was only 38 when the film was made, and her paramour in the picture, Rock Hudson, was 30; obviously the intention was that Wyman’s character is even older, say, in her 40s, since she has college-age children). The couple must face gossip, scorn, and ultimate rejection from Wyman’s society friends and even her grown children. The message of acceptance and tolerance hits one over the head like a hammer, to be sure, but, granted, at the time the subject matter was most likely indeed scandalous to most Americans. Now it’s a big “so what.” That said, the point of the story—that women need to be responsible for their own happiness and not cater to what other people think—is still relevant today. A mother’s children will eventually grow up and leave the nest; why should she remain in an unhappy situation just to please them when they’re not even there?

Ah, but yes, Rock Hudson. Looking back at his performance in this and his other hits of the 50s and 60s and knowing what we know about him today, one cannot help but view the actor in a different light. And, for me, anyway, I saw right through Hudson’s performance. I couldn’t believe that a) Wyman fell for the guy, and b) that Hudson was really attracted to her. In 1955, the audience for whom the picture was aimed (female, I imagine) may have bought the romance; today, it’s superficial and frankly unbelievable. If there had been a bit more spark between the actors and some clues that there were aspects about each other that they found appealing (other than Hudson’s Adonis good looks), it might play better. As it is, All That Heaven Allows is now a curious relic of a time when America had more bugs up its ass than a mother spider.

The Criterion Collection presents the picture in the classiest way possible—a 2K digital restoration with uncompressed monaural soundtrack on the Blu-ray—and it looks marvelous. Of particular interest is the extra, Rock Hudson’s Home Movies, in which we are treated to clips from his films that he edited himself; they compile the moments in which the subtext implies the truth about his sexual orientation. A Profile of Douglas Sirk, a 1979 BBC documentary, features rare interview footage and is an interesting portrait of the filmmaker. There is more, of course, in the dual Blu-ray/DVD format package, including an essay on Sirk in the accompanying booklet, written by none other than filmmaker Rainer Werner Fassbinder, whose work was inspired by the director’s pictures.

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