Showing posts with label 2002. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2002. Show all posts

Sunday, April 17, 2011

8 Women (2002, 8 femmes)

Catherine Deneuve is a film icon.  She has worked with some of the best filmmakers of all time, past and present, and to see her alongside other great French actresses in 8 Women is a pleasure unto itself.  That the film is fun is an added bonus.

8 women are stranded at a snowed in mansion with a dead body in an upstairs bedroom.  The victim is Marcel, who we never see, Deneuve’s Gaby’s husband.  Their oldest daughter Suzon arrives home from college the day her father’s corpse is discovered.  She tries to piece together the last few hours of these very catty, very different women to solve the horrible murder of her father.  That the murderer might be someone she loves is a consolation of sorts.

There’s Mamy, her elderly grandma, played by Danielle Darrieux, an icon of French cinema going back to the 1930s (did I mention 8 Women was made in 2002?).  Mamy is wheelchair bound, and out of charity Marcel and Gaby had taken in her and Augustine, her unmarried, frumpish daughter, Gaby’s jealous sister.  Another French icon—Isabelle Huppert, muse to Claude Chabrol.  The sexy new maid, Louise, may have something to hide.  Emmanuelle Béart plays her.  Most innocent are Madame Chanel, the long time family cook and nanny to Suzon, and Catherine, Suzon’s kid sister.  Catherine is into mystery novels, something her Aunt Augustine doesn’t approve of.  She’s played by Ludiving Sagnier, a gifted young actress whose talents have been employed by Chabrol and Christophe Honoré.  This is an accomplished cast.

But wait—that’s only 7 women.  Marcel’s estranged sister Pierrette arrives looking for the brother she knows is dead.  Pierrette is played by the last of François Truffaut’s famous leading lady lovers, Fanny Ardant.  Perhaps because of Truffaut’s untimely death in 1984, Ardant never got the attention she deserved as an actress, but in Confidentially Yours, Truffaut’s final film, her work in that genre comedy stands up to Jeanne Moreau’s or Catherine Deneuve’s.  Deneuve was Truffaut’s lover in the late 70s, early 80s, and it is suggested that Truffaut had a breakdown when the actress left him.  Ardant was the one who restored his spirits, or so legend goes.  This gossip isn’t really relevant, but it’s in the spirit of 8 Women.  Director François Ozon must have understood the history he was bringing together by uniting Deneuve and Ardant on screen, especially in a dishy cat-fight of a picture.  This back story doesn’t interfere with the film.  But looking at the amazing cast that spans the whole history of French cinema—from poetic realism in the 30s to the 50s films of Max Ophuls, the New Wave and post-New Wave and beyond; 90’s cinema and today—I couldn’t help thinking of these facts.  8 Women is a fun film with style, brave, campy performances by its stars, and a great traditional mystery.  Getting lost in its actors is a complement.  A bad film with all these women would feel more gimmicky.

Gaby had kept her husband and his sister apart, or so she thought.  Nothing is what it seems in Ozon’s mystery musical.  That’s right, the film is a musical.  It’s kind of off-putting at first.  The opening shot, a wide pan along the grounds of the family mansion, looks intentionally phony.  The whole film looks like a 60s parody, down to the wigs and eye-popping color.  When Ludiving Sagnier sings the first number, in both her look and the choreography she reminded so much of Hayley Mills in The Parent Trap.  That must have been intentional.  The song, “Daddy, Daddy” You Ain’t with It”, sounds exactly like a song we would’ve got from a live action Disney film of the time.  What’s odd about the music is how Ozon stages it in context to the film.  There are 8 songs, and each one is a solo by the actresses.  They come off more as monologues; they don’t advance the story at all.  One could make the case that they hold up the picture, but not I.  The songs give us information into the respective character.  For example, when Isabelle Huppert sings, we learn her neurotic tendencies that often hurt her sister are in part to spare Gaby’s feelings.  Deneuve’s own song is very odd, and it leads to her and Ardant making out on the floor of the grand hall.  I never expected to see something like this in a movie.  What can I say?  It’s fun to look at.

The mystery in the film is old-fashioned fun.  There’s nothing original.  You have the self-appointed Poirot character, the nosy detective who forgets to cast a light into her own mysterious comings and goings, a wife who stands to gain an inheritance, jealous relatives and a sexy, dangerous sibling.  The hired help has run of the house so they’re suspect too.  The isolated mansion, guard dogs that don’t bark, a key to a locked door that is stolen, transference of guilt—everything that makes a great mystery work.  The musical is a bit odd in this context, but as a movie that loves movies, a movie lover with eat this up.  The style, the cast, the music, the genre mishmash, and the cinematic history and tribute that becomes 8 Women guarantees its admiration from people like me.  I will remain light on the story development.  In this kind of picture every twist is more fun to discover while watching.

In her office, Gaby has a portrait of herself from when she was young.  The painting is a breathtaking likeness of Deneuve.  Looking at those sharp cheekbones I was reminded of images of her from Belle de jour, the era where Deneuve was exceptionally beautiful.  I thought momentarily of the sadness of aging.  Deneuve has done so gracefully, and when she’s on the floor with Ardant, there is a moment when she looks EXACTLY like her younger self.

8 Women is Ozon’s most successful picture.  I’ve never thought too highly of him as a director, maybe because he is better known in the US than Honoré, my contemporary favorite.  His films are always either too stylized or boring.  I think the genre, the grandiosity of the material, and the cast allows Ozon to revel in his indulgences.  I saw the preview of his newest film, Potiche, also starring Catherine Deneuve.  I’m seeing it next week, but already I am pleased to see this same pictorial style at play in his newest film.

8 Women (2002)
(a.k.a. 8 femmes)
Director: Francois Ozon
Writers: Robert Thomas (play), Francois Ozon and Marina de Van
Stars: Danielle Darrieux, Catherine Deneuve, Isabelle Huppert, Emmanuelle Beart, Fanny Ardant, Virginie Ledoyen, Ludivine Sagnier and Firmine Richard
France
In French
Runtime: 111 minutes

To purchase 8 Women, visit Amazon:

IMDB link:

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Dark Water (2002, Honogurai mizu no soko kara)

Ghost stories are always impossible.  Obviously, right?  I’m talking specifically about the way ghosts go about their business in the movies.  I accept that they are ghosts, but why are they so cryptic?  If they can make contact with the living, why not make their messages clear?  One might argue that as the story begins the ghost hasn’t achieved full power.  I counter with, if they can contact just a little, they had better say a whole lot.

Yet the opposite is always the case.  Dark Water, the original 2002 Japanese thriller, is just about as perfect and predictable as a ghost movie can be.  It’s dark in the right places, quiet too; the soundtrack jumps a lot and many of the tense scenes have a constant sound of pressure in the background.  The characters make stupid decisions, and the ghost is always elusive, dropping clues, willing to communicate but for the sake of carrying a horror film it remains glib.  Another thought—why do the ghosts’ abilities to communicate strengthen as the running time increases?  I guess to keep the inconsistencies coming.

I didn’t like this movie.  I kept waiting for it to end.  At first I was bored.  Dark Water in this regard is very consistent for the first 70 minutes.  We meet Yoshimi Mastaubara, the mother of 6 year old Ikuko.  Yoshimi is in the process of settling her divorce, and while the material goods have been agreed upon, the biggest good hasn’t: Ikuko.  For the time being, Ikuko is sole property of Yoshimi, who is a great mom.  She tries to be and is indeed very loving.  She has a knack for being late to pick Ikuko up from kindergarten.  She is also suffering some effects of the pressure of her divorce.  Her new apartment is leaking, and that is an understatement.  The more the black water infiltrates her home, the more unstable Yoshimi becomes.  This sounds good so far, but the ghost story kicks in arbitrarily.  Extremely late one afternoon, Yoshimi, while searching for her missing daughter, sees a poster of a girl who has been missing for 2 years.  Yoshimi has visions or dreams or insights about this girl.  She knows things logically she shouldn’t know.  She also sees the girl in the apartment above, where the water comes from.  Well, “seeing” is a stretch as this missing girl, even in the photo on the poster, always has hair covering her eyes and for some reason is kind of blurry around the face.

Dark Water, as I understand it, began a trend that thankfully has passed in horror films.  The ghost in these kinds of stories is always a little girl with long black hair, often covering the eyes, and they have died in connection to water.  That’s why they’re always wet.  They also wear white flowing pajamas.  I can name a half dozen films that all seem to have originated from this film, so while it may have been fresh in 2002, now it is hackneyed and laughable.

I said that the film is standard for the first 70 minutes and this is true.  The final ten or so really put me off.  The film starts off as a frivolous horror picture, a very slow and boring one, but it becomes something more sinister and uncomfortable.  The story becomes a parallel for horrific parenting, and the final image of the climax, the daughter Ikuko all wet, crying, lying on the floor in front of an elevator waiting for the mother who has seemingly abandoned her, is tasteless.  I felt as if I were watching pornography.  That’s an insult to porn because at least there is a point to pornography.  Why all of a sudden does Dark Water resort to tormenting a child on screen?  I don’t mean the actress.  The character is put through some awful stuff that really in the context of contemporary horror films isn’t that shocking, but it uncomfortable to see.  I had already checked out of the movie but in these last few minutes I was tempted to shut it off.

A question I would normally ask myself right about now—‘doesn’t that mean the movie was effective?’  I’m afraid not in this case.  The 2003 remake of Texas Chainsaw was a movie I swore to myself that I would never watch again.  It was twisted and bloody, but as the weekend passed I kept thinking about the artistry of that film, and for what it was it was brilliant.  Dark Water resorts to tricking its audience into sympathy by using a child to heighten the impact of the horror.  It’s tasteless and, more offensively, pointless.  And if you’re dying to see this film, I’d recommend the American remake which is a very effective, depressing psychological thriller.

Dark Water (2002)
(a.k.a. Honogurai mizu no soko kara)
Director: Hideo Nakata
Writer: Ken'ichi Suzuki
Stars: Hitomi Kuroki, Rio Kanno and Mirei Oguchi
Japan
In Japanese
Runtime: 101 minutes

Purchase the original Dark Water from Amazon:

IMDB link: