Showing posts with label claude lelouch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label claude lelouch. Show all posts

Friday, February 9, 2018

Visions of Eight (1973)



          Rather than providing conventional historical contextualization or even straightforward reportage, this arty documentary project from megaproducer David L. Wolper lets eight internationally acclaimed filmmakers offer cinematic sketches of the Olympics, with the 1972 summer games in Munich as their canvas. The terrorist attacks that left 11 Israeli athletes dead receive only passing mention, not out of disrespect but rather because Wolper’s film was designed to celebrate timeless aspects of the Olympics. As with most anthology pictures, Visions of Eight is a hit-or-miss affair, but even the iffy sequences are imaginative, so as a total viewing experience, Visions of Eight is offbeat, unpredictable, and, just as Woper intended, inspirational. Given a clear shape thanks to well-crafted introductory and closing segments overseen by Mel Stewart (who directed Wolper’s beloved 1971 theatrical feature Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory), the film moves gracefully between quasi-narrative sequences and experimental passages.
          Yuri Ozerov’s “The Beginning” is among the merely serviceable vignettes. Mai Zetterling’s weight-lifting sequence “The Strongest” loses focus despite flashy cinematography and editing, because Zetterling drifts into random stats (Olympians ate 1.1 million eggs over the course of the ’72 games) and images of computers processing data. Infusing “The Decathalon” with his characteristically antiauthoritarian humor, Milos Forman juxtaposes pageantry with mundane details such as officials yawning between events, and he tips his hand by narrating, “I got to see the Olympics for free and had the best seats.” Arguably the best sequence is Claude Lelouch’s “The Losers,” which offers a poignant alternative to familiar views of triumphant athletes.
          Innovative Hollywood director Arthur Penn gets a bit carried away with “The Highest,” employing artsy audio drops, slow motion, and soft focus to transform high jumps into audiovisual abstractions, though it must be said that parts of “The Highest” are quite beautiful. Michael Pfleghar’s “The Women” underwhelms, and Kon Ichikawa’s “The Fastest” obnoxiously celebrates its own technical complexity via narration that explains how 24 cameras and 20,000 feet of film were used to record a 100-yard-dash in granular detail. The final segment, John Schlesinger’s “The Longest,” lives up to its title, offering a repetitive look at an English marathoner.
         Still, Visions of Eight amply rewards the viewer’s attention. The best sequences are terrific, the cumulative abundance of atmosphere and information is impressive, and the license Wolper gave to his collaborators resulted in great stylistic variety. Never lost amid the directorial flourishes is the sincere theme of the piece, which has to do with extolling the values of achievement and community.

Visions of Eight: GROOVY

Friday, August 31, 2012

Another Man, Another Chance (1977)



          Impressionistic and offbeat, French filmmaker Claude Lelouch’s romantic drama Another Man, Another Chance is nominally a Western, since most of the story takes place in the American frontier circa the late 1800s, but it’s also an international story with many episodes taking place in France during a time of ferocious class conflicts. Repurposing narrative concepts and themes from Lelouch’s 1966 hit A Man and a Woman—without actually being a remake of the previous film—Another Man, Another Chance tells the parallel stories of two sensitive people whose love affairs end in tragedy.
          David (James Caan) is an American veterinarian whose wife, Mary (Jennifer Warren), has grown tired of living in the wilderness, even though David adores the lonesome lifestyle because he relates better to animals than he does to people. Soon after delivering the couple’s first child, Mary is raped and killed by robbers one sad afternoon, while David’s away on business. Meanwhile, in Paris, impulsive young Frenchwoman Jeanne meets a photographer named Francis (Francis Huster), and falls in love. Wishing for adventure and an escape from the rampant poverty in Paris, Francis and Jeanne relocate to America, eventually settling in a town not far from David’s home.
          By the time David and Jeanne finally meet at the school attended by their children, Jeanne has suffered a loss of her own, so she has become guarded about romance. However, David is determined to build on their mutual attraction, so the story explores the challenges faced by people who are haunted by memories of loved ones.
          Lelouch, who also wrote the picture, uses an idiosyncratic storytelling style. He jumps back and forth in time, so viewers experience the story in the same psychological blur as the characters. This nonlinear approach doesn’t always work—some scenes are confusing—but when it connects, Lelouch expresses subtle nuances of anguish and perception. The filmmaker also employs long, unbroken takes that put viewers right in step with the actions of the characters; for instance, the scene in which David discovers Mary’s fate is a presented as a single tracking shot following Caan through every part of his character’s rambling homestead.
          Some of Lelouch’s indulgences are less effective, like a long race scene toward the end of the movie, and one could quibble that casual vignettes of David and Jeanne bonding with their children outlast their usefulness. But since the story takes place in a less hurried time, Lelouch’s leisurely pacing suits the milieu. Also in the film’s favor is the understated acting, with Caan eschewing his standard macho vibe and Bujold affecting a delicate quality that masks formidable resolve. Another Man, Another Chance is far too flawed to qualify as a great film, but it’s consistently heartfelt and thoughtful, in addition to boasting a rich, dust-choked Western atmosphere. (Available as part of the MGM Limited Collection on Amazon.com)

Another Man, Another Chance: GROOVY