Welcome to my first proper newsletter where I will share my thoughts on some of the films I’ve watched this past week.
Planning to upload a new edition every Friday.
Hope you enjoy reading my words, but I hope you will enjoy the films even more.
Here we go.
Monday March 2nd Little Caesar (1931)
Huge of fan of how camp American gestures of manliness are. Had a hoot watching Edward G Robinson’s performance. His body language as the life-long braggart Rico is remarkably well-observed. Among other alley-toughs like himself he exudes such confidence, yet when he goes to meet The Big Boy and is surrounded by the trapping of real wealth, we see just how insecure he really is.
What I wasn’t expecting was a homoerotic element to Rico’s psychology. When he moves to kill his friend Joe Massara (played by Douglas Fairbanks Jr.), the camera lingers on Robinson’s tortured face before he ultimately bottles it.
Are those tears we can see welling up in the eyes of what we thought was an unsentimental killer? Throughout the film we see Rico as a man who shuts himself off from earthly pleasures. Up to this pivotal point, he implicitly rejects any form of human connection, a trait which is also reflected in his refusal to drink.
Now, out of seemingly nowhere, we see the hard man quiver. It is a moment that throws into question everything we thought we knew about Rico, leaving us to wonder what underlying motivation drove Rico in his quest to “be a somebody.”
Tuesday March 3rd The Lighthouse (2019)
Spoilers
First off, I enjoyed how Defoe and the camera work together during his prolonged close-ups to contort the actor’s face into abstraction. The use of lighting in particular made for some terrific imagery. During his petulant rant over the state of his cooking, ink-blot shadows seep along the contours of Defoe’s face, transforming his entire presence into an expressionist horror. It was difficult to stifle a grim laugh when the film spares us the final sight of that mug when Robert Pattinson’s character abstracts it one final time with an axe.
Overall though I wasn’t a big fan of The Lighthouse. The splendour (if one can call it that) of the film’s formal artistry only made the blunt use of literary allusion all the more unbearable. The final shot had me groaning in anguish, and encapsulated my recurring issue with the preening self-regard that often besets the aesthetic of many A24 films.
This issue raises a deeper problem with The Lighthouse in terms of theme. I can see how the Eggers prompt me as a viewer to reflect on the psychological, sexual, and spiritual elements of the story they are trying to tell about two stranded lighthouse keepers. Yet for the life of me these thematic strands, which should be full of vitality, felt like weak gestures at profundity.
Wednesday March 4th The Orphan (2018)
First saw this short at Flare last year, but found it while browsing Vimeo this week. Directed by Carolina Markowicz, The Orphan is a quietly angry piece about Jonathas and the injustice they face as an Afro-Brazilian child caught in the care system.
The film begins with Jonathos being told that they will be taken in by a middle-class couple. It isn’t the first time Jonathos has been in this position as they have been abandoned by such families in the past.
Fleeting fantasyesque sequences of Jonathos dressing up unsettle the otherwise social realist mode that The Orphan adopts.
The film is explicit in showing how Jonathos is exploring their gender. Although more comfortable speaking with a friend at the care home rather than their own foster parents, it is evident that this institutional environment is no oasis as Jonathos faces homophobic abuse from the other kids.
What really impressed me about Markowicz’ film is how it illustrates the complexities of intolerance towards self-expression- specifically how that prejudice is both racialised and gendered- in such an understated manner.
The climax leaves a lot unanswered which I find to be incredibly effective. That narrative ambiguity reflects Jonathos’ own sense of uncertainty in the final moments. However, I would not go so far as to say it makes us understand how they feel. Jonathos’ situation at the end of the film is something which neither a white audience, nor Markowicz as a film-maker, can claim to know.
Thursday March 5th Hour of the Star (1985)
My friend Paul Farrell told me about this YouTube channel that uploads Brazilian films with English subtitles. He wanted me to see a 1964 B-movie called At Midnight I’ll Take Your Soul. Paul, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry but I still haven’t seen it. I came across Hour of the Star while browsing the channel on Wednesday evening. It’s an adaptation of Claice Lispector’s last novel. FYI: I did not know that going in.
It’s about a 19 year old woman named Macabéa from the rural North East of Brazil, working as a typist in a Rio de Janeiro.
Living with three other working women, we quickly come to understand the quiet, unshowy hardship of Macabéa’s life. Not considered attractive by the other characters, including her vivacious co-worker Gloria, Macabéa’s existence is one of loneliness. She’s a diminutive figure who goes unnoticed by those around her unless she makes some small, unwitting transgression, whether that be through making a mistake at work, or failing to stand behind the yellow line on a train platform.
At the same time we also see Macabéa as a curious soul in her most private moments. She frequently listens to the radio at night. In one wordless scene, she masturbates in bed after being sandwiched between two loud men on a crowded train. This is a young woman with human desires that are all too relatable.
She eventually starts seeing a steel worker named Olimpico, who is from the same part of the country as her. A self-absorbed braggart who mistreats Macabéa, Olimpico is still somewhat sympathetic as the film makes clear that he is responding to a sense of alienation imposed on him by modernity. Both he and Macabéa are united by the way they are treated with indifference by the city they inhabit.
From reading this you may come away with the impression that Hour of the Star is unrelentingly bleak. While the ending may confirm that for some viewers, I found the film’s sensitivity towards each of its character to be heartening. Macabéa in particular is one of the most compelling characters I’ve seen in a film for some time.
I’ve now added myself to the waitlist for the ebook of Clarice Lispector’s novel on archive.org and look forward to reading it.
Congratulations if you made it to the end.
I’m excited to announce that I have started my own blog, where I can share my writing about film and other bits of cultural criticism. It’s called Cathy Culture and it will be a home for more polished pieces of writing.
It’s a bit bare-bones at the moment and any suggestions are encouraged.
You can read my first piece of writing here
Thank you for reading this first newsletter, and I hope you will stick around for more.