Martin
Scorsese has made several films that are challenging for an audience. Even some
of his most acclaimed pictures, such as Raging
Bull, are difficult to watch and “enjoy.†Scorsese tackles hard truths
about the human condition, and many times they’re unpleasant and disturbing.
Sometimes the dramas he explores are not what one would call a “good time at
the movies.â€
That
doesn’t mean they’re bad. On the contrary, great art often requires an audience
to meet it halfway, to capitulate and embrace the pain that is at the heart of
what the artist has intended to convey.
Silence is one of those
films. A decades-long passion project for the director, based on the novel by
ShÅ«saku EndÅ, it is about the
“silence†of God that is the biggest obstacle faced by people of faith. The
subject matter would have been at home in hands of someone like Ingmar Bergman,
who tackled this topic several times in his career. Nevertheless, Scorsese’s oeuvre has often been informed by his
Catholic upbringing and his struggles with it. While his 1988 film, The Last Temptation of Christ, was a
deeply personal and, yes, a religious picture,
it was met with controversy and even banning in some territories. Silence is an even more religious
statement from the master filmmaker, and it, too, has received mixed responses.
Some hailed it as a masterpiece. Others said it was an overlong, colossal bore.
Silence is a period piece
that takes place in 17th Century Japan, when Portuguese Jesuit
priests were attempting to bring Christianity to that feudal kingdom. One
particular priest, Father Ferreira (Liam Neeson), had gone to Japan on such a
mission, but news comes back to Portugal that he has renounced his faith and disappeared.
Two young priests, Father Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) and Father Garupe (Adam
Driver) are sent to locate him to find out what happened—and spread the Gospel
while they’re at it.
It
doesn’t go well. The priests encounter the cruel and calculating samurai known
as the “Inquisitor†(magnificently portrayed by Issey Ogata), who does
everything in his power to crush the priests’ objective, wipe Christianity from
his land, and keep an iron hold on the citizens’ beliefs. Different methods of
torture are his preferred weapons of rule. As time passes, the priests’ faith
is severely compromised—but Rodrigues hangs on, fighting with every fiber of
his being to the bitter end.
Which
doesn’t come for two hours and forty-one minutes.
Therein
lies the problem I had with what otherwise was one of the most
gorgeously-photographed motion pictures I’ve seen in years. The cinematography
by Rodrigo Prieto earned an Oscar nomination—and probably should have won. The
production and costume designs by Dante Ferretti should have also at least received
nods. The movie is indeed beautiful to look at, on par with such visual feasts
as Barry Lyndon, Days of Heaven, and The Tree
of Life.
It’s
just… long. And very slow. The meditative pace, intentional as it is, serves
the subject and the picture well up to a point. The movie is additionally extremely
quiet; the soundtrack consists of mostly sounds of nature along with delicate period
music of an Eastern flavor by Kathryn and Kim Allen Kluge. The relentless
suffering of the characters—in silence—takes its toll. Perhaps that’s what
Scorsese wanted to do. To test the audience, just as the priests are tested.
The
acting, especially by Garfield, shows extreme dedication to the material. Both he
and Driver lost a good deal of weight for their roles. At one point during
filming, as recounted in the documentary supplement on the disk, the entire
cast and crew broke for lunch on a beach—but the two actors chose to stay in a
boat away from shore and not participate in the meal.
The
new Paramount Blu-ray disk exquisitely captures the film. It looks fantastic,
as it should, with a 1080p High Definition transfer. There are several sound
options—5.1 DTS HD Master Audio in English, and other languages in 5.1 Dolby
Digital. The only supplement is the aforementioned making-of featurette, Martin Scorsese’s Journey Into Silence,
which provides a satisfying overview of the production and its genesis.
Devotees
of Martin Scorsese should give Silence a
chance, but don’t expect the flash-bang editing of GoodFellas. This is an art film of the highest order, one that you
may find very rewarding if your endurance makes it to its final, glorious image
before the end credits.
(The new documentary "Becoming Bond" is now showing on the Hulu network.)
BY MARK CERULLI
Prior
to seeing Josh Greenbaum’s illuminating documentary, Becoming Bond, which premiered on HULU May 20th, I had
dismissed George Lazenby’s mystifying refusal to continue as 007 as just
another gullible young actor taking bad career advice; like Tom Selleck passing
on Indiana Jones, Travolta nixing Forrest Gump, Thomas Jane handing Don
Draper to Jon Hamm… but there’s more to
it than that, a lot more as it turns out.
Cleverly
combining interview footage of Lazenby, still hale and hearty at 77, with
well-staged recreations, Becoming Bond
dives deep into this complicated and impulsive star to understand HOW he could
casually dump one of the most coveted roles in the history of film. As it turns out, that decision is symbolic of
who George Lazenby really is: intelligent, charming, naïve but most of all, independent. Lazenby is, and has always been, his own man. From pissing off teachers in grade school, to
pursuing a girl from an elite family many social stations above his own, George
always did what George wanted to do. Usually documentaries feature others talking about the main subject in
order to create a full picture. Early on, director Josh Greenbaum felt
Lazenby’s stories were so rich, he wanted to recreate them – it was an inspired
choice. Australian actor Josh Lawson is
perfect as a young George Lazenby, gradually finding his way in the world and
effortlessly using his charm and chiseled looks to become a top model. A fluke landed him dinner with a London
talent agent (played by real Bond Girl, Jane Seymour) who got him in the
door to audition for 007, then George did it HIS way: conning a brusque Harry
Saltzman (comedian Jeff Garlin) into handing him the keys to the Bond movie
kingdom, then confounding him when he wouldn’t play by his rules. Lazenby did his and Cubby Broccoli’s film, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, which
became a box office hit in 1969 (despite popular belief that the movie bombed.) Suddenly the world – and a world of women –
were at his feet, but it was a lot for a guy from tiny Goulburn, Australia to
handle. Maybe too much. Lazenby turned down a one million dollar
payment to sign a seven-picture deal, something most actors would give body
parts for. Once the Bond producers realized none of the usual leverage worked,
they were playing by Lazenby’s rules, which meant there were no rules: George does what George wants. In the end, Lazenby did okay without Bond – he
made his money in real estate, acted in other films, married, became a father…
but oh what might have been.
After the documentary screening at LA’s delightfully quirky Cinefamily Theater, cast, crew and George himself answered questions, and once again, George was George. When asked if he regretted walking away from Bond, the actor said, “If I had stayed as James Bond I would have probably had three wives in Beverly Hills, mansions, been a drug addict… that’s the kind of person I would’ve been because it wouldn’t’ve been me.†He admitted he just didn’t like taking orders. Sitting next to him, actor Josh Lawson perceptively pointed out that, “the things that caused George to walk away were the things that got him the job in the first place.â€
After the Q&A, Hulu threw down an after party with an open (bless them) martini bar. There the cast and Lazenby mingled with guests – including this CR scribe. I had met George before, but had forgotten how freakin’ big he is in person. (A fellow Bond fan said he was the tallest of all the Bonds.) Shaking his enormous hand reminded me of shaking hands with boxing champ George Foreman during my HBO producer days. No wonder Lazenby knocked out a stuntman during his Bond action screen test. (An act seen in the documentary, followed by Saltzman stepping over the twitching body to tell George, “We’re going with you.â€) Absolutely priceless, all true – and pure Lazenby!
Lazenby’s
composure is remarkable given how close he came to having it all. In fact, the only time he became visibly
emotional was when he discussed the one decision he does regret: giving up the girl of his dreams, a lovely
upper class gal named Belinda (wonderfully played by Kassandra Clementi). Like her co-star, Clementi had never met
Lazenby until Wednesday’s premiere and she had never even seen On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, which
was shown after the festivities. And how
did she like it? “I loved the film,â€
Clementi said via her publicist, “And George Lazenby was unsurprisingly just as
captivating and charming as he is today.†Sounds like a newly-minted Bond fan…
Woody
Allen has written and directed several dramas over the years (none of which he
appears in)—and there are indeed a few that are worthwhile endeavors. The 1988
release, Another Woman, might be one
of Allen’s least-seen films, and yet it belongs in a list of the artist’s
solid, good pictures—not one of his
masterpieces, but certainly not a clinker (with over forty-six titles, his oeuvre runs the gamut!)
A
few months ago, I reviewed Allen’s first drama, Interiors, here at Cinema
Retro and acknowledged
the obvious influence of Ingmar Bergman in the work. But it was stated that Interiors was really more Eugene O’Neill
than Bergman. Here, Another Woman is
definitely channeling Bergman; in fact, many critics spotted the similarity—or homage—to the Swedish master’s classic Wild Strawberries (1957), in that the
film is about a person reflecting on a past life, discovering painful truths,
and resolving to change paths moving forward. In Strawberries, the protagonist is an old man; in Woman it’s a female turning fifty. The
Bergman comparison is made even stronger by the fact that Bergman’s longtime
and Oscar-winning cinematographer, Sven Nykvist, is the DP on Allen’s picture.
He shoots it in striking, picture-perfect color.
Marion
(sensitively played by the great Gena Rowlands) is an intelligent philosophy
professor on sabbatical, and she’s hoping to write a book. She’s in her second
marriage to Ken (Ian Holm), who is also in his
second marriage. His teenage daughter from the first union, Laura (Martha
Plimpton), is closer to Marion than her own mother (Betty Buckley). Marion has
rented an apartment to get away from construction noise at her home so that
she’ll have peace and quiet to write. However, the walls are thin and she is
next to a psychiatrist’s office. Marion can hear the patients talk about their
problems. One particular subject, Hope (Mia Farrow), is pregnant and suicidal.
Listening to Hope triggers a crisis in Marion, who begins to face turning fifty
and what her life has meant. She soon discovers that she’s been in denial over
a lot of things, mainly that she isn’t perceived by people close to her in ways
that she had thought.
The
film then takes the Wild Strawberries route
as Marion reflects on events from her past (shown in flashbacks and dream
sequences). Instances of infidelity, jealousy, elitism, and abortion come back
to haunt her—and Marion resolves to do something about it.
Compared
to Interiors, Another Woman is much more confident in its direction, and the
control over the piece is more relaxed. Experience counts, for Allen had one
other dead-on drama under his belt (the dreadful September) and several pieces one could call “dramedies†before
tackling Woman. His work here with
Nykvist is masterful. The cast is excellent—besides everyone previously
mentioned, the film also features Blythe Danner, Sandy Dennis, Gene Hackman,
Harris Yulin, John Houseman (in his last screen performance), Frances Conroy,
Philip Bosco, and David Ogden Stiers.
The
music—made up of classical and Allen-esque jazz selections—is also very
effective. Satie’s Gymnopedie No. 1 serves
as a theme of sorts, and its melancholy pervades the picture.
Twilight
Time’s new Blu-ray release looks marvelous, showing off Nykvist’s photography
with vivid hues. As with most Allen releases, though, the supplements are
sparse—only a theatrical trailer and an isolated music score are present on the
disk. A perceptive essay by Julie Kirgo adorns the inner booklet.
The
eighties may be Woody Allen’s strongest decade of work, and Another Woman is a fine example of the
period.