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Criterion Review: HISTORY IS MADE AT NIGHT
A 1937 Romance from Frank Borzage joins the Collection
I consider myself a serious fan of classic film, but the 1937 title History Is Made at Night was unfamiliar to me before this recent Criterion release. Helmed by Frank Borzage, a former silent film actor who’d worked up to directing, the drama stars an extremely handsome Charles Boyer and a charming Jean Arthur. Both actors are allowed to show a depth of range here I haven’t seen in their other films. This is partly because, although at its heart it is a romance, the Borzage film is a mish-mash of genre. There are light, funny moments, but also elements of noir. It’s steeped in melodrama at times, and even turns into a disaster flick at the end.
Arthur plays Irene, trapped in marriage to a jealous shipping magnate (British actor Colin Clive, in one of his last films) who is obsessed with her. To mess up her plans for divorce, he sets up an entrapment scheme that is ruined by Frenchman bystander Paul. Irene and Paul are quickly besotted with each other. I am not spoiling anything, because this all happens within the first 10 minutes of the work.
So if the early portion of History Is Made at Night is that action-packed, you can imagine how the film as a whole might be. We learn in the Bluray special features that there was barely a plot when Borzage and the actors signed on to the production. They added the disaster element with only a couple weeks of filming left! It’s astonishing, really.
In a restoration explanation, the Criterion digital restoration team tell how much time was spent to clean up the work we see now: 700 hours to erase spills and scratches and other marks on the nitrate print they’d found in a film archive. This makes the viewer doubly appreciate the beauty of the cinematography and editing in History Is Made at Night. The lighting of the close-ups which caresses the faces of Boyer and Arthur, the soft focus on Irene’s carefree bare feet as she tangos in her negligee, the composition of shots as we’re shown facial reactions to a boat sinking.
Irene and Paul’s love story anchors History Is Made at Night. The work celebrates their romance like it’s a rare find. And the viewer has no doubt of their affection; despite the trite lines Irene spouts at times, it seems only natural that she and Paul would find each other, despite the odds, and fall in love.
I’m not sure why History Is Made at Night isn’t as highly revered as other movies from the ’30s. Yes, the script can be eyerollingly melodramatic, but there is so much else that is praiseworthy about the film. At least now, with this package, Criterion allows more of us to appreciate this work.
The Criterion Collection Bluray package contains special features such as:
- a conversation between film historian Peter Cowie and author Hervé Dumont about director Frank Borzage, his style, and the story behind the production of History Is Made at Night
- a 2019 interview/video essay with critic Farran Smith Nehme about recurring themes in three other Borzage films: A Farewell to Arms (1932), Man’s Castle (1933) and No Greater Glory (1934)
- excerpts from a 1958 audio interview with Borzage. Among other things, the director speaks about growing up in Utah, working in mines, and how acting brought him into filmmaking
- a 1940 radio adaptation of the work, featuring Charles Boyer
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Top 10 2020 Films to Make You More Empathetic/Compassionate
“Movies are the most powerful empathy machine in all the arts.” — Roger Ebert
Empathy — the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.
2020 came out swinging and upended the globe in a way no other year has in my unique set of trips around the sun. No one escaped the fallout of the pandemic and the ripple effects it’s had on everything from global systems to personal individual loss. We’ve lost so much. We’ve lost so many. Perhaps here in 2021 there’s never been a more important time to stretch our capacity for empathy. We simply won’t make it if we don’t. The cinema of 2020 is here to help you walk in the shoes of others, to show you heroes who speak truth to power, to expose villainy and extol those who do the best with what they’ve got. There’s no artform quite like cinema to broaden horizons and the films of 2020 offer us plenty of opportunities to do so.
Click on any of the titles below to see where you can access these films digitally to watch them in your own home.
10: Swallow
Decidedly not for everyone, this stylish thriller explores territory similar to one of 2020’s most seen and discussed films The Invisible Man: A woman trapped in luxury by a misogynist husband. But where that breakout genre film went in a high concept sci-fi direction, Swallow explores the psychological disorder known as pica. Lead Haley Bennett turns in an amazing performance as a woman desperately seeking any sense of agency as a history of trauma slowly reveals itself. Not a film that goes down easily, but not misery porn either, writer/director Carlo Mirabella-Davis takes us through a totally unique exploration of a woman taking back control.
9: Promising Young Woman
Carey Mulligan’s Cassie is unlike most any characters we’ve ever seen on the big screen before. Brought to life by writer/director Emerald Fennell, Cassie is an avenging angel, riddled with survivors guilt due to a friend’s death by suicide after she was sexually assaulted in medical school. A stylized, cotton candy and bubblegum nightmare, Promising Young Woman asks us to walk the path of righteous fury as our society’s culture of sexual assault is laid bare through the actions of a woman who simply refuses to let her friend die in vain. Controversial, burning with anger, and bitingly relevant, Promising Young Woman pulls no punches and implores us to reexamine the “nice guy”.
8: Never Rarely Sometimes Always
Writer/Director Eliza Hittman brings us a couple of days in the life of Autumn (Sidney Flanigan) and her best friend Skylar (Talia Ryder). It just happens that the slice of life we’ll be following them on are the days when Autumn travels across state lines into New York City to find a clinic and terminate her unwanted teen pregnancy. Abortion is certainly the hottest of hot buttons in our society, but Never Rarely Sometimes Always does what great cinema can do and simply walks us through Sidney’s life and the indignities she faces each day as a poor rural girl in modern America. Autumn and Skylar’s friendship is profound, and the desperate lengths they must go to for Autumn to make this journey has the power to open eyes and change perspectives.
7: Sound Of Metal
Riz Ahmed gives, for my money, the best male lead performance of 2020 as Ruben, a punk rock drummer and recovering addict who develops rapid hearing loss while on the road with the love of his life Lou (Olivia Cooke). Stripped of his ability to play music, on the brink of relapse, Ruben must find a way to live. Raw, powerful, and authentic, Sound Of Metal is undoubtedly one of the best films of 2020 and explores profoundly what it means to wrestle with recovery, to come to terms with hearing loss, and even the alienation that comes from making the sometimes impossible choices that life throws at us. Inspiring and beautiful, tragic and honest, Sound Of Metal will take you on a sensory journey unlike anything else this year.
6: Miss Juneteenth
Nicole Beharie turns in one of the most layered and fully fleshed out performances of the year as former Miss Juneteenth pageant winner Turquoise Jones. Deeply entrenched in modern, Black, Texas culture, Miss Juneteenth deftly explores topics of generational expectations, dreams deferred, and whether a strong Black woman in America today can achieve any measure of the dreams they have for themselves and their families. Turquoise is a powerhouse of a character, filled with pride at having won a competition steeped in local legend as a young woman, but dealing with the reality that life didn’t turn out as she’d planned. Forcing her young daughter Kai (Alexis Chikaeze) to go through the motions of the same Miss Juneteenth pageant she once won may not be the best path forward for either of them. Brimming with authenticity from writer/director/native Texan Channing Godfrey Peoples, Miss Juneteenth exposes a tough reality and brims with the pride of accomplishment and relationship investment in equal measure.
5: Minari
The best overall film of 2020, Minari is a masterpiece of the American dream and the Korean American immigrant experience. Set in Arkansas in the 1980s amidst a family attempting to start a farm, writer/director Isaac Lee Chung pulls from his own life experience to immerse us in the sweeping beauty and hardscrabble daily life of a family just trying to make it in this world. With a universality that any American can connect to, and a specificity that those of Korean descent (or likely any immigrant) can relate to, Minari is simply one of the most quintessential tales of the American experience one can ever hope to find.
4: Collective
An absolutely riveting, tragic, and brave piece of filmmaking, the documentary Collective absolutely cannot be missed. A film about journalism; a film about a tragic nightclub fire; a film about corruption and systemic failure. Somehow, this movie about a nightclub fire in Romania in 2015 is also about America in 2020. And it’s the kind of film that can simply change you. If the footage of the tragedy itself isn’t heart-stopping enough, Collective exposes how Romania’s healthcare system suffers a catastrophic failure that results in many more dying from infection than the fire itself. As the government works to cover up the failure, journalists, survivors, and reformist politicians risk everything to make a change in the system that’s much bigger than themselves. Heroes stand up for what is right even as institutional power moves to save face. This is humanity exposed, showing a profound struggle between the truth and the powers that be, with individuals putting themselves at great risk to see justice is served. Not so much inspiring as eye-opening, Collective shows us true bravery in one frame, and the despair of corrupt systems in the next.
3: Sorry We Missed You
Filmmaker Ken Loach offers a thorough indictment and dismantling of the modern gig economy through a powerful and endearing family drama. When a modern day father in the United Kingdom signs up to be a delivery driver to help make ends meet, he smashes full speed into a system set up to absolutely grind him into the dirt. This, as his wife works as a home health provider dealing with low pay and late nights and weekends, all as their pre-teen and teenager have their own struggles. Angry, authentic, relevant, and powerful, Sorry We Missed You will having you falling in love with its central family, perhaps seeing yourselves in them, and rooting for them to prevail against an economic system with no room for humanity. I’ve never seen a film take aim at the gig economy and how it impacts families quite like this one does.
2: Nomadland
Perhaps the most lauded and critically praised film of 2020, Nomadland follows Frances McDormand’s Fern throughout the American southwest as she experiences isolation and community while living out of her van. Homeless? Fern would beg to differ. Houseless? Unquestionably. Writer/Director Chloe Zhao is an Asian American filmmaker who has, between this film and her previous effort The Rider, proven to herself to be one of the most insightful filmmakers to point a camera at the modern American southwest. Fern’s travellings and interactions with others living a nomadic lifestyle affirms the power of human connection and community, while laying bare the profound personal costs of the big corporations keeping all the profits in the hands of a few at the top. Fern’s nomadic journey begins with the catastrophic loss of her husband and their chosen town itself shutting down entirely. What she finds on the road is equal parts devastating and uplifting, and I can’t encourage you enough to experience Fern’s journey yourself.
1: Crip Camp: A Disability Revolution
“If you don’t demand what you believe in for yourself, you’re not going to get it.” — Judith Heumann
Containing perhaps the most striking image of heroism I’ve ever seen on film as disabled protestors drag themselves and their wheelchairs up the steps of the United States Capitol because they have no other physical way to access that hall of power, Crip Camp is nothing less than the documentation of a revolutionary movement of heroes who forever changed American society. What starts with humble beginnings at Camp Jened, a beautiful camp for those with disabilities where they’re heard, seen, and valued, soon blows up into the fascinating tale of the passage of the Americans With Disabilities Act and the young campers who went on to become political revolutionaries. Have you ever ridden a bike or pushed a stroller or navigated your wheelchair over a curb cutout or up a ramp into a building? Then you’ve got some of the young campers from Camp Jened to thank for dragging America kicking and screaming into a system that provides access to the physically disabled and bars them from being discriminated against for their disability. Of crucial importance in Crip Camp is the profound value that disabled individuals have and the incredible accomplishments they achieve which benefit us all when they achieve access. It speaks to today with profundity as well. What other undervalued and underserved populations are on the verge of impacting us all for the better if we’ll simply give them access? And, pointedly, Crip Camp also shows that if we don’t provide equality and access, then underserved and underrepresented people may just rise up and take it for themselves.
And I’m Out.
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MORTAL KOMBAT (2021): Fatalities Do Not a Compelling Narrative Make
Some elements of brilliance punctuate the mediocrity
It started out so strong.
The always good Hiroyuki Sanada (Hanzo Hasashi/Scorpion) duking it out with legend-in-the-making Joe Taslim (Bi-Han/Sub-Zero) in 1600s Japan with real human tragedy on the line had me hooked. Even the over-the-top gore and fatalities so tantalizingly promised in the marketing of this film seemed to fit into what could be a compelling dramatic narrative for this legendarily violent arcade cabinet video game adaptation.
Instead we’re ultimately given what amounts to the cinematic equivalent of roll call.
Perhaps a compelling plot or emotional connection is a little bit much to ask of a fighting game turned into a movie in which the cast of characters are most of what matters to the intellectual property as a whole. But part of the challenge of adapting a wildly popular thing from one medium to another is to find a way to make what works in an arcade cabinet work for the passive watcher of the silver screen. I read that co-writer Greg Russo is a genuine fan of the Mortal Kombat game series and knew deep down what fans of the franchise were really hoping to see and worked hard to be faithful to the game lore. And I suspect he may very well have been on to something and that many massive Mortal Kombat fans will find much to like in this latest big screen adaptation. General audiences, on the other hand, may scratch their heads at a sprawling cast of characters all defined more by a costume, catch phrase, or signature move than any crucial narrative reason for them to exist.
But, never fear Mortal Kombat fans… most of your favorite heroes and villains will indeed make an appearance on screen in 2021’s edition of the franchise. And in many cases they’ll at least be played by actors of similar lineage to the characters (i.e. it’s not a white dude playing Lord Raiden). Most of them will provide a somewhat slavish representation of the characters you know from the games. They’ll perform some kind of familiar fatality or martial arts move that you may recognize. They’ll probably say something like “test your might” or “flawless victory.” Russo is either giving fans what they want or just cramming as many game references as possible into his movie.
I’m coming across quite negatively and ultimately that’s because I found little to grab onto in Mortal Kombat. I think some of the gravely serious dedication to silly lore about an ancient tournament between realms, with the wicked Shang Tsung (Chin Han) and his villains poised to forever destroy Earthrealm and only Lord Raiden (Tadanobu Asano) and his chosen Earthly fighters marked with a supernatural dragon tattoo can stop it is quite endearing, honestly. But that overarching narrative never does much more than introduce us to a bunch of familiar characters as seen through the eyes of audience surrogate lead character Cole (Lewis Tan), who I believe is a new character not found in the games. Yes, you do get to see a variety of characters fight one another and occasionally murder one another gratuitously. Yes, there will be lots of swear words. But plot progression will never reach the early heights of our two semi-immortal ninja-like warriors Scorpion and Sub-Zero duking it out before the opening credits.
Many hands were wrung in the 1990s when Paul W.S. Anderson’s initial big screen adaptation opted for a PG-13 rating, eschewing the blood and gore that’s perhaps the most iconic element of the game series. This year’s adaptation does offer a more slavish devotion to game lore and unapologetic gore (which I will admit occasionally had me grinning), but it almost certainly isn’t as fun as Anderson’s take. And the presence of such stellar talents as Taslim and Sanada somewhat highlights the stark difference in performance quality between some leads versus others.
If watching one character get a dragon tattoo because they’ve killed a chosen fighter, then watching another character gain a super power, then seeing that same arc rinsed, washed, and repeated over and over is compelling drama to you, then this may really hook you. And I don’t mean to dismiss you if it does work for you. Hardcore game fans (I am only a casual one) may get a lot out of this film being structured in this way. I really didn’t.
And that dulls, ultimately, the impact of the action. Quite a few fight sequences here are well done, or visually interesting, or tinged with just a bit of the ultraviolence. And for a while that was sustaining me. But it’s hard to come to this film and assess it purely as an action film because it uses its cast of characters as a crutch and doesn’t quite highlight the martial arts on display.
I hate to come across so negative because Mortal Kombat ’21 honestly goes down pretty easily. You’ll probably laugh a few times, especially at some of Kano’s (Josh Lawson) one-liners. You might pump your fists at a great fight or two (especially if Joe Taslim is on screen crushing it as Sub-Zero). You may point at the screen like Leonardo DiCaprio in Once Upon A Time In Hollywood when you recognize a particularly brutal fatality. And that may be all you need. For that level of entertainment, Mortal Kombat awaits you in theaters or on HBOMax, beckoning “get over here.”
And I’m Out.
Mortal Kombat is available in theaters or on HBOMax April 23rd, 2021
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Spinema Issue 56: Benjamin Wallfisch’s New MORTAL KOMBAT Score
The score for the new Mortal Kombat film is now available, releasing ahead of the film’s simultaneous theatrical and HBO NOW opening this Friday.Soundtrack opener “Techno Syndrome 2021” is a modern EDM reimagining of the classic “Techno Syndrome” theme. Interestingly it seems to be a new composition, as opposed to a remix of the original.
The original, with its familiar cry of “Mortal Kombat!!”, is one of the most familiar and beloved techno tracks of all time. It’s closely associated to Paul W. S. Anderson’s 1995 film, invariably linked in many of our lizard brains to the New Line Cinema logo which opens that movie, but it preceded the films as early as 1993 as part of the game series’ marketing and appeared on 1994’s Mortal Kombat: The Album and its Remix EP, both composed by The Immortals (Maurice Engelen and Oliver Adams).
Much like Mortal Kombat: Annihilation’s prior update, or other remixes which have come before, this new spin on the familiar track, now with something of a dubstep vibe, is pretty cool but, well… just not as cool as the original. But that said, it’s kind of like a big hug for fans of the franchise who love and recognize the tune, and I’m excited to see how it plays out in the new film.
The rest of the album, which WB’s Watertower Music has actually put on Youtube in its entirety, settles into to more of a traditional action film score mode.
Composer Benjamin Wallfisch has very quickly risen in the ranks of film composers moving from small independent pictures to major properties including blockbusters and genre films like Blade Runner 2049, It, The Invisible Man, Shazam, and 2019’s Hellboy.
Melodies are generally understated, with emphasis on grand, somber, operatic harmonies. These themes accompany what I presume to be heavier elements like the tragedy of Hanzo Hasashi (Scorpion).
The score’s other defining trait is the constant thundering percussive rhythms which frequently punctuate the onscreen action.
Overall it’s a very cool listen, but not very memorable. Most of the track titles are characters’ names, but don’t expect a John Williams style approach where each has their own recognizable melody. This score is very much built to act in background service to the film rather than as an independent listening experience; more atmospheric than musical.
A few tracks like “The Tournament”, “I Am Scorpion”, and “Fight as One” briefly quote the classic Mortal Kombat theme, but aside from these welcome flourishes, tracks tend to generally sound kind of similar to each other; slow melodies, bombastic buildups, and thundering drums. It’s energetic and atmospheric stuff to have on in the background, but there’s probably nothing here you’ll be humming later.
Album and Single artwork Tracklist:
1. Techno Syndrome 2021 (Mortal Kombat)
2. Hanzo Hasashi
3. Lord Raiden
4. Bi-Han
5. Shang Tsung
6. Cole Young
7. Birthmark
8. Sonya Blade
9. Kano v Reptile
10. Liu Kang
11. The Great Protector
12. Sub-Zero
13. Kung Lao
14. Origins
15. Kabal
16. Goro
17. Arcana
18. Jax Briggs
19. The Void
20. The Tournament
21. Sub-Zero v Cole Young
22. I Am Scorpion
23. We Fight as One
24. Get Over HereBuy or Stream it: https://lnk.to/MortalKombatID
Get it at Amazon: Mortal Kombat Soundtrack – CD | MP3
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LUST, CAUTION: A Complex, Passionate Romance Finally Arrives on US Blu
Kino Lorber debuts Ang Lee’s WWII drama on a Stateside Blu-ray after fourteen years of undeserved controversy
Note: Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray presentation of Lust, Caution is the uncut 157-minute NC-17 version of the film.
Shanghai, in the waning years of World War II. Wong (Tang Wei), once a budding drama student performing in patriotic plays sympathetic to the Chinese war effort against the Japanese, has spent far too long in the biggest role of her life. By day, Wong is Mrs. Mak, the doting wife of an importer. As Mak, Wong has worked her way into the inner circle of Yee (Tony Leung), a high-ranking Chinese official working in the Japanese puppet government and leader of the secret police. Wong’s goal, thrust upon her by her idealistic drama cohorts, is to seduce Yee and lure him into the perfect moment for an assassination — but the fine line between Wong and her role becomes increasingly blurred as her seduction of Yee is all too effective, forcing Wong to confront her shifting political and sexual identities.
Heralded as much for his gripping, intimate dramatic work as much as his visually-stunning blockbusters, Ang Lee is one of the most versatile filmmakers working today. Trained in the arts both in his native Taiwan and in the United States, Lee’s films have a unique international sensibility all their own, melding an exacting formal precision with widespread cross-cultural emotional appeal. It’s not that one could consider Lee’s films stateless or lacking in a grounded singular cultural identity. Rather, Lee draws from such a rich well of pop culture in his films, ranging from wuxia epics to Jane Austen to Marvel comics (say what you will about Hulk…), that it’d be impossible for audiences around the globe to not find some emotional touchstone in his films to connect with. This extends to Lee’s formal approach as well–his films have a deliberate, measured pacing to them that allows these films to explore the physical and emotional texture behind each moment. From the rugged wilds of Brokeback Mountain, to the dreamlike and torrential oceans of Life of Pi, to the suffocating stillness of suburbia in The Ice Storm, Lee’s worlds are rich with detail that bring to life an equally intricately-built interior world present in his characters. Genre may draw in an international audience at the start of Lee’s films, but what makes them wholly memorable is how rich of an emotional experience they are subsequently treated to over the course of the films’ runtime.
Lust, Caution was Lee’s eagerly-awaited follow-up to Brokeback Mountain, and one that saw Lee return to his native Taiwan to create an epic wartime noir romance. Expectations were high — but discourse quickly shifted to sensationalized criticism of the film’s ten minutes of sex scenes, which grew into further questions of censorship and the agency of its heroine. State Censorship boards in China took umbrage with the graphic nature of the scenes, in addition to the decisions Wong makes in favor of her growing relationship with Mr. Yee over her dedication to the Chinese resistance. Lust, Caution was ultimately released in China in a truncated, sanitized version cut by Lee himself, and Tang Wei, whose work in the film is rather excellent regardless of her status as a debut actress, found herself blacklisted for years. The methodology of the production — using a combination of Taiwanese and American crew, utilizing a script by frequent Lee collaborators Hui-Ling Wang and James Schamus — ran afoul of AMPAS stateside, and the film was rejected from consideration as Taiwan’s submission for Best Foreign Language Film. A perfect storm of controversy, rooted in questions of artistic license, sexual agency, and state control, saw Lust, Caution subject to much of its own thematic concerns–nearly falling victim the same forces that overwhelm its central heroine.
But now, fourteen years after its initial release, Lust, Caution has developed somewhat of a resurgence akin to Lee’s similarly-buried American Civil War epic, Ride with the Devil. Removed from the superficial controversies that stifled Lust, Caution on its debut, audiences and critics alike are able to enjoy Lee’s film for what it is — a complex exploration of love and duty, and the endlessly shifting alliances within. Like Lee’s other films, it’s visually sensuous, rich with period detail that causes your eye to explore every inch of the frame as well as the slight emotional tics of its characters that cause passionate emotions to betray their self-imposed cool exteriors. The performances by both Wei and Leung are first rate, breathing a necessary complicated life to the film’s lead characters. Neither Wong nor Yee are condemned or put on a pedestal for the violent turns their romantic encounters take. Wong, in particular, remains Lee’s focus through the film as a studied examination of the myriad roles women are forced to play to retain whatever romantic, social, or political control they are able to possess in a suffocatingly male-dominated environment. While Wong may grow to betray those who pressure her to engage in the film’s own betrayal plot — Lee refuses to judge Wong based on fleeting notions of what may be considered right or just in terms of the shifting winds of politics.
Like what makes Lee’s films so incredibly accessible the world over — Lee instead focuses on what makes his characters human, and asks his audience to judge them accordingly, regardless of their own backgrounds or allegiances. Lust, Caution is a film whose dedications are towards the heart rather than that of any temporary Nationalistic fervor.
Long inaccessible in HD in the United States, Kino Lorber has released Lust, Caution for the first time on American Blu-ray — and in its uncut original version to boot. With a gulf of time now displacing the film from its initial uproar, yet at a time when controversies between China and the rest of the globe remain at a fever pitch, there isn’t a better time to see one of Ang Lee’s finest films — whether its as an act of rediscovery, or in my case seeing it for the very first time.
VIDEO/AUDIO
Kino Lorber presents Lust, Caution in a 1080p HD transfer in a 1.85:1 aspect ratio, with both 5.1-surround channel and 2.0 stereo Chinese audio tracks. English subtitles are presented for foreign-language dialogue, but loses the SDH subtitling for English dialogue previously-available on the original Focus Features DVD. Subtitles are only available for the main feature.
The visual presentation of Lust, Caution here is top-notch, relishing in the deep colors spanning Rodrigo Prieto’s palate for the film. Vivid dark greens, yellows, and blacks are favored in addition to warm skin tones, appropriately reflecting a beauty naturally reflected by the world yet repressed by the central characters. The audio tracks are crisp and clear, with Alexander Desplat’s score providing a deep, resonant undercurrent favoring prolonged, thrumming strings.
SPECIAL FEATURES
- Audio Commentary by film historian and director Eddy Von Mueller. Mueller’s commentary is witty and insightful, providing much needed context for appreciating Lust, Caution’s deeper themes, the political and cultural context both within the film’s period setting and surrounding its existence as a modern (and wholly controversial) Taiwanese-American production amidst a divided Asian global presence, the real-life origins of Lust, Caution’s assassination plot, and the storied careers of Lee and his collaborators.
- Tiles of Deception & Lurid Affections: A 17-minute making-of featurette ported over from the film’s original DVD release. The featurette covers a wide breadth of the film’s production process, containing English-language interviews with the film’s cast and crew. The scope of the production is quite impressive, and it’s remarkable how much of the film’s period detail was practically designed–including re-creating an entire city block of wartime Shanghai.
- Theatrical Trailer for Lust, Caution.
- Trailers for Thirst and Spetters, also from Kino Lorber.
Lust, Caution is now available on Blu-ray from Kino Lorber.
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SXSW 2021: Narrative Feature Competition
Eight films competed for the top prize at this year’s fest
Every year the slate of films vying for the title in the Narrative Feature Competition is solid. 2021 was no different. These eight movies represent the best of current indie and foreign cinema.
THE FALLOUT
Grand Jury Award
Bursting onto the scene with a ferocity matched only by the tears it will draw out of you, the astounding and assured SXSW Grand Jury Winner The Fallout launches writer/director Megan Park and her cast into a whole different stratosphere.
Park has achieved something incredible here, focusing on the topical tragedy of school gun violence that has become sadly emblematic of modern American life, and then grounding it in a bravely realistic portrait of teen life that peels back a veil of mystery not unlike films like Thirteen or Eighth Grade have done… making us cringe at the awkwardness of this time of life even as our jaws drop realizing what “kids these days” have to deal with that we never had to.
I’M FINE (THANKS FOR ASKING)
Special Jury Recognition for Multi-hyphenate Storyteller
Danny’s not doing fine. Her husband is recently deceased, she lives in a tent with her daughter, and she’s braiding hair and delivering food just to make ends meet. Set in the Pacoima neighborhood of Los Angeles, I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking) tells a tale of toil and trouble.
ISLANDS
Special Jury Recognition for Breakthrough Performance
Calling something “a quiet film” is usually a backhanded complement at best, but it the case of Islands, it’s not only true, it’s a strength. Set amidst a Filipino family in Canada, Islands centers itself around Joshua (superbly played by Rogelio Balagtas) as a middle-aged man dealing with the mortality of his elderly parents as well as his own crippling shyness. The film is literally quiet in its volume and even more so in the slow rhythms of daily life for this immigrant family. When cousin Marisol (Sheila Lotuaco) shows up, her appearance breathes a huge breath of life into the situation. Islands might not drip with drama, but it deals with the heartache of the every day in a genuine and affecting way.
HERE BEFORE
The premise of Here Before isn’t a new one. A new child shows up in the life of a family grieving the loss of their own. Before long, it becomes apparent that something is amiss, and the new child seems much too much like the old one. Reincarnation? Insanity? This is twist-heavy territory, but where some films might try to get by on narrative trickery, Here Before relies on execution. It all starts with the mother, played brilliantly by Andrea Riseborough. She’s the epitome of having moved on from the death of her Josie, and when a new little girl moves in next door, she’s as sweet as can be. When memories from her daughter start coming out of this other wee one’s mouth, she starts to doubt herself and her sanity. The resolution doesn’t go full M. Night, but matches well with this story of daily life in North Ireland, where a family’s struggle with grief doesn’t end as easily as anyone would like.
THE END OF US
There will surely be a spate of pandemic-induced movies. While The End of Us might not end up being the best, it’s a nice contribution to the nascent genre. Set in Los Angeles right as the lockdown begins, Leah (Ali Vingiano) and Nick (Ben Coleman) break up, but with nowhere to go, they turn from lovers into roommates, a situation fraught with boundary issues. Nick’s an uninspired aspiring actor, with the Leah the breadwinner until she loses her job along with lots of others in mid-2020. The story tracks the pandemic, and being set mainly in a small, one-bedroom house exudes claustrophobia in both time and space. Strict adherence to safety protocols are strictly kept. Until they’re not. The intrusion of former coworker–and current douchebag–Tim (Derrick Joseph DeBlasis) creates some much needed chaos that pushes things toward a climax. A small production like this lives or dies on its leads, and The End of Us lives large. Vigniano’s vulnerable strength plays off Coleman’s flawed, earnest charm to great effect. DeBlasis is good, too, managing to make obsession with the Criterion Collection seem like an eternal wrong move. While no one wants to relive the last year, The End of Us crafts an empathetic journey through a troubled time.
OUR FATHER
Two girls. One dead dad. Lots of awkward hijinks. That’s not all Our Father is, but it’s a start. Older sister Beta (Baize Buzan who’s got kind of an Allison Brie thing going on) and Zelda (Allison Torem) must navigate not only their father’s passing but also their own chaotic lives. Beta should be moving on the grad school, but hasn’t yet, and Zelda has found herself dating an older man while living in a boarding house with much older women. She’s crass, and keeps the comedy going on the girls begin a hunt for an uncle they’ve just become aware of. This Chicago indie is both full of pathos and humor, and good combo for any set of siblings.
WOMEN IS LOSERS
Tagged as both a comedy and a drama, Women is Losers deals with much too weighty of a subject to be the former but operates as the latter well. The film is a period piece, depicting the struggles of a young girl from high school through an unplanned pregnancy to the hard and soft sexism of the working world of the 70’s. While the struggles are real, the film almost universally turns the world into a series of two-dimensional bad guys enacting oppressive after oppressive act. What saves this story is the lead, played artfully by Lorenza Izzo. Her depiction of grace and perseverance jumps off the screen.
POTATO DREAMS OF AMERICA
Being gay in the Soviet Union is no way to live. That’s the conundrum facing the main character in Potato Dreams of America, and autobiographical tale from director Wes Hurley. Instead of taking their chances in the U.S.S.R., Potato’s mother offers herself up as a mail-order bride, which wins them a trip to Seattle. Alls not well there, though, as her new conservative Christian husband John (Dan Lauria of The Wonder Years) makes it clear where he stands on Potato’s gay agenda. It doesn’t stop there, and Potato Dreams of America has some surprises up its sleeve before the final curtain.
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CRISIS: An Interconnected Opioid Thriller
Writer/Director Nicholas Jarecki injects facts and heart
What images immediately come to your mind when you think about the drug war?
For me it’s traditionally been cartels, the southern border, needles, and flophouses. But the landscape of substance abuse in America has changed dramatically since the days of Soderbergh’s Traffic, from which writer/director Nicholas Jarecki takes more than a little inspiration for his sweeping topical thriller Crisis.
The images Jarecki (and reality) foist on us that most represent today’s drug war are your local CVS and Walgreens, not to mention your doctor’s office. (Okay, you’re still going to see some flophouses, but the border is Canadian this time).
Over the last couple of years I’ve personally been hearing and learning more about the depth, breadth, and systemic rot that is the opioid crisis in America, and I feel I (not to mention the nation) have only come to understand the tip of the iceberg in terms of the complexity and tragedy of this epidemic. With my own wife recently coming on staff at a non-profit dedicated to ending substance use disorder through federal policy changes, I’m primed and ready to learn as much as I can about this particular crisis we are facing. This is how I came to check out Jarecki’s new film, and I largely like what I saw.
Initially, Crisis feels like Opioids: The Movie. We’re introduced to the issue through the sprawling narrative Jarecki has crafted which attempts to highlight many of the essential topics around this issue: individual addicts, international smuggling, whistleblowing, big pharma and the billions they make by addicting patients and encouraging medical professionals to look the other way. Crisis flirts with biting off more than it can chew, but eventually finds rhythm as a topical and character-based thriller. Armie Hammer plays Jake Kelly, a DEA agent on the verge of a major fentanyl bust who is motivated in part by the very personal fact that his young sister is strung out on oxy herself. Evangeline Lilly is Claire Reimann, an oxy addict in recovery heading down the path of obsession and revenge as she uncovers the truth behind her teenage son’s shocking death by overdose. Gary Oldman brings the gravitas as Dr. Tyrone Brower, a university scientist who makes a shocking discovery about a new fictional drug that is supposed to be non-addictive but which in reality will be oxy all over again. Between these three main characters and their stories, Crisis manges to touch on a broad array of topics relevant to the opioid epidemic from the deeply personal to the systemic. This actually threatens to derail the movie initially as it feels much more topically motivated than “gripping story” motivated.
But as the film plays out and the situations our characters find themselves in are fleshed out and humanized, Crisis settles into the confident pace of a thriller and manages to strike a balance between effective thriller and righteously furious message movie. At the halfway point or so, I found myself wondering where it was all going to lead, how it was all going to play out, and what kind of message the film was trying to communicate to me… all good signs for a thriller that is working. Among a murderers row of name talent and recognizable faces, Crisis occasionally delivers riveting performances and sometimes offers flat delivery in some of the less consequential roles. But it’s undeniable that Jarecki assembled a pretty remarkable ensemble cast for this film, even if Hammer’s off screen behavior has most likely derailed his career and almost certainly impacted the reach that Jarecki likely hoped this film would have.
America IS indeed gripped by a crisis we’re only just beginning to reckon with. Opioids were created in labs that have grossly profited and billionaires who addicted a nation are being slapped on the wrists by fines. Our own doctors prescribed these drugs to us and promised they were safe. Yet our culture remains fixated on judging and stigmatizing the victims of opioid addiction rather than the perpetrators. It’s a tragedy that’s ongoing, and there are no easy solutions. Jarecki wades into these murky waters with Crisis and emerges with a message movie that sticks to its guns without becoming overly preachy, and a thriller that keeps us guessing. It’s a commendable if uneven effort, and you could do a lot worse than to check this out to gauge the pulse of this epidemic in an exciting package.
And I’m Out.
Crisis is now available on Digital and On Demand from Quiver Distribution.
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The Art of Making a FRENCH EXIT
“My plan was to die before the money ran out, but I kept and keep not dying and…here I am!”
When French Exit first launched as the closing night selection of the 2020 New York Film Festival, it didn’t take long to realize that not everyone was going to respond to the absurdist comedy. It was a suspicion confirmed by the early reviews that followed, nearly all of which praised lead actress Michelle Pfeiffer, but weren’t sure how to react towards the film itself. Upon French Exit’s New York and L.A. release this past February, it seemed early audience reaction was the same. It’s a reaction that’s easy to comprehend. The film’s script blends more than a couple of tones and all but abandons the three-act plot structure in favor of one that’s decidedly free-flowing as it places in its center a protagonist who isn’t the warm and cuddly sort made relatable enough to where any audience member would want her as a best friend. Instead, the film’s central figure represents the kind of emotional damage mixed with an acerbic humor that may rub some the wrong way, but serves to make French Exit the enchanting surrealist screwball comedy that it is.
Directed by Azazel Jacobs from Patrick DeWitt’s novel, French Exit sees Pfeiffer playing Frances Price, a Manhattan socialite existing under the shadow of scandal stemming from her late husband’s (Tracy Letts) death and the part she played in it. Living with her directionless son Malcolm (Lucas Hedges) on what’s left of their inheritance, things take a turn for the dire when Frances is informed that her fortune has nearly run out, causing mother, son, and family cat to sell what they can and relocate to a friend’s (Susan Coyne) apartment in Paris. Once there, they attract the attention of various characters including a psychic (Danielle Macdonald), a private investigator (Isaac De Bankolé) and a cooky American expat named Madame Reynard (Valerie Mahaffey).
Much like the novel it comes from, French Exit is an undefinable sort of cinematic cocktail. This is especially true when it comes to its differing tones. The film is somber and poetic one moment before becoming darkly comedic the next. Influences of Woody Allen and Luis Bunel are apparent here, especially among the movie’s supporting characters, none of which can be considered as anything close to cookie cutter. As everyone finds themselves setting up shop in the Paris apartment, inexplicably drawn to the story’s central pair, the film’s various colors can’t help but continuously show with every moment.
French Exit is melancholy, humorous, bewitching, and whimsical thanks to the world it creates; a slightly heightened reality with one foot slightly off the ground where people are guided by instinct and feeling rather than logic and practicality. It’s the kind of world where Frances and Malcolm will hire the aforementioned private investigator to find the psychic, who proceeds to conduct a seance at the dining room table before the film eventually cuts to the whole group having drinks together in the same apartment four days later never having left it. Such events in French Exit are so wonderfully random and intriguing due to the sheer lunacy of them, that it might be easy to forget that the film is partly about lonely people reaching out to find some sort of human connection and end up finding it in a room full of strangers.
If there’s one element about the film that’s all but impossible to dismiss, it’s Frances. As a character, there’s hardly been a screen heroine that doesn’t offer up a myriad of personal reactions. At first glance, Frances is…a lot. She cares very little about what she says, who hears it or how it’s perceived. After she’s been rude to Madame Raynard, who is hosting them for dinner, Malcolm calls out his mother‘s rude behavior to which she sarcastically replies: “Isn’t it awful,” evoking the driest of humor. For Frances, it’s humor that has been her only weapon in a world which she feels has never had any use for her, regardless of how much money she’s had. For her entire life, money and all its trappings has been how Frances has defined herself and now that it’s vanished, she suspects she will soon follow.
But Frances is also a mother with a son she loves in her own way and vice versa. The relationship between her and Malcolm is an odd one which could well be called co-dependent if it weren’t for the fact that despite the pair’s closeness, they’ve remained largely strangers since Frances picked up her son from boarding school following her husband’s death. By the time the film reaches its end, French Exit has waded through the eccentric characters and odd happenings to be a story of a mother and a son with their own language finally finding each other. A late scene in the kitchen spells this out beautifully with Frances at her most open. When Malcolm asks her why she came for him that day, she says: “That was strange, wasn’t it,” with a coy smile before adding: “I didn’t know you were you. I would have come right away if I had. I never would have let you go in the first place.”
To say Pfeiffer steals the show is a grave understatement. Her hold on the character is so strong and captivating, that there simply wouldn’t be a French Exit this spellbinding without her stunning work. The way the actress holds her face, fixes her gaze, and delivers the film’s wickedly clever dialogue with that unique inflection results in one of the best performances of both the year and the actress’ career. Her reading of such a tricky character is pitch perfect and in Pfeiffer’s hands, Frances’s pain and humor shine through beautifully. As her partner in crime, it would seem that Hedges has very little to do besides gaze in awe at his legendary co-star, but the young actor brings a soulfulness and a longing to Malcolm that’s surprising and cannot be mistaken, furthering his standing as one of the best young actors working today. Each member of the supporting cast get a moment or two to leave an impression which shows their participation wasn’t for nothing. But Mahaffey is the only one able to come close to stealing scenes as a woman steeped in romantic ideals who cannot help but wear her heart on her sleeve.
As I said before, one of the biggest stumbling blocks French Exit will have with modern audiences is the fact that its protagonist doesn’t fit into the need most American audiences have to see themselves on the screen. Frances doesn’t adhere to the notion today that people are essentially black and white; a bad guy or a good guy. The reality is that almost everyone lives in a sea of gray with flaws and foibles which are a part of their character, but ultimately don’t wholly define them. French Exit knows this to be true and has offered up such a woman who has long been defined by a world she’s loathed for most of her life that no longer exists. Frances is caustic, unfiltered and doesn’t suffer fools easily. But she’s also vulnerable and tragic. She’s made so by the fact that she’s spent her entire life building up a protective wall against a society where her future is now almost certainly uncertain. She may not be the most approachable character to grace the screen in recent times, but in her own way she’s almost definitely one of the most alluring and heartbreaking.
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Thou Shalt Not Pass Over THE TEN COMMANDMENTS, New on 4K UHD
Widely regarded as the greatest of the biblical epics, Cecil B. DeMille’s masterpiece comes home to UHD
The Ten Commandments is new on 4K UHD Blu-ray this week from Paramount Pictures.
Even 65 years after its release, The Ten Commandments remains one of the biggest jewels in the crown of Paramount Pictures; a towering accomplishment of big budget filmmaking in the age of epics.
Director Cecil B. DeMille’s account of the story of Moses, a partial remake of his own 1923 silent picture of the same title, features an all-star cast, old-school epic storytelling, impressive special effects, and themes of freedom and faith that still resonate.
More than mere entertainment, the film was exhaustively and painstakingly researched, and DeMille and his team of storytellers took great care with the script to remain faithful to the Biblical account of the Pentateuch, while also acknowledging that many aspects of Moses and his peers’ personal histories were simply not recorded in the Bible — and filling in those blanks thoughtfully with a combination of creative writing and referencing extrabiblical narrratives. Characters are given names, motivations, and even romances where the biblical account is silent.
So concerned was DeMille with these liberties that he opens his film by literally stepping out in person to introduce it, and to acknowledge that portions of the tale were necessarily fictionalized to flesh out the story in a way that would play out meaningfully on the screen. This introduction, along with the film’s long-format trailer (which appears as a special feature within this package), helped me realize something I hadn’t really considered in prior viewings of this film: This wasn’t merely a big blockbuster event movie, but the work of a director who very much wanted to honor the material with both reverence and great affection.
The story is that of Moses (Charlton Heston), a prince of Egypt who learns the secret of his own origin — that he is a Hebrew, a scion not of the Pharaoh’s royal bloodline, but of the race of slaves that Egypt commands to build their mighty cities. The ensuing identity crisis pits him at odds with his brother Rameses (Yul Brynner), and after an encounter with God in the desert, Moses is burdened with great purpose: to step into the role that he was created for, and deliver his people out of bondage and lead them to a land promised by God.
So goes the broad strokes version, but The Ten Commandments fills out the human drama of the tale by imagining the in-betweens. A fiery rivalry ignites between Moses and Rameses as they compete in all things, including the affection of Nefretiri (Anne Baxter), who figures prominently as a personification of the warring ideas. We see also the youthful zeal of Joshua, whom Bible readers know will one day succeed Moses as leader.
The legendary Vincent Price appears as a cruel Egyptian taskmaster and Edward G. Robinson features as Dathan, expanded from his brief biblical mention into a conniving toady and one of the film’s chief villains. (Despite my affection for the film, between viewings I tend to forget that these two actors are in it, and it’s delightful when I’m reminded).
Perhaps most famously, the film is known for several show-stopping special effects sequences illustrating the Burning Bush, the Ten Plagues, the parting of the Red Sea, and the creation of the Ten Commandments on Mt. Sinai.
A towering achievement in every respect, The Ten Commandments still commands our attention.
The Package
The Ten Commandments in 4K represents not only the best the film has ever looked on home video, but its best packaging as well. Over the years The Ten Commandments has had a lot of truly terrible cover art, but for this release they incorporated the gorgeous 1989 poster design and included a metallic foil slipcover. It’s a thing of beauty.
The restoration credits confirm that this gorgeous new 4K UHD release is struck from the same beautiful 2010 6K restoration as the prior Blu-ray editions.
Beyond the audiovisual upgrade of the 4K format, one notable benefit of the UHD disc is that the entire film is fitted to a single disc and need not be swapped at the intermission, as has typically been the case stretching back to the days of VHS.
Special Features (4K and Blu-ray)
Both the 4K and Blu-ray presentations of the film include feature commentary by author and historian Katherine Orrison.
Special Features (Blu-ray Disc 2)
Vintage Paramount Newsreel — NYC Premiere (2:24)
Gregory Abbot narrates footage from the red carpet as cast members, director Cecil B. DeMille, and other notable personages drop in to attend the film’s world premiere.
Theatrical Trailers (12:40)
Trailers from 1956 (10:01) and the 1966 (0:55) and 1989 (1:43) Re-releases. The indulgent original 10-minute 1956 version is of particular note; in modern terms we might think of its presentation less as a trailer and more of an EPK. It features a lengthy introduction by Cecil B. DeMille, who speaks about Moses and the inspiration for the film, produces an enormous gilded Bible and reads from the Book of Exodus, and narrates footage from the film, introducing all the characters.
A/V Out.
Get it at Amazon:
If you enjoy reading Cinapse, purchasing items through our affiliate links can tip us with a small commission at no additional cost to you.All 16:9 screen images in this review are direct captures from the Blu-ray discs (not 4K) with no editing applied, but may have compression or resizing inherent to file formats and Medium’s image system. All package photography was taken by the reviewer.
Further reading:
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Criterion Review: SECRETS & LIES (1996)
Mike Leigh’s Palme d’Or-winner is riveting as ever on a long-awaited Criterion Blu-ray
The release of a new Mike Leigh film is always a cause for celebration, as are the eventual rediscoveries of his work by The Criterion Collection. With five films to date in the Collection spanning his five-decade career, Leigh’s collaborations with Criterion has proven to be as fruitful as those he shares with his actors during these films’ creation. Secrets & Lies, Leigh’s Palme d’Or-winning drama focused on the consequences of a revealed parentage to a group of interconnected suburban Londoners, is perhaps the best in Leigh’s filmography–and comes to Criterion with a diverse and insightful package after many years out of print.
After the death of her adoptive mother, Hortense (Marianne Jean-Baptiste) decides to take the plunge and officially unseal her records to try and reconnect with her birth mother. Neither Hortense or her mother Cynthia (Brenda Blethyn) are prepared for who they might meet. Hortense is middle class with a thriving, jovial optometry career; Cynthia is an Eastender living in poverty with her daughter Roxanne (Claire Rushbrook), isolated from her more successful brother Maurice (Timothy Spall). What’s more — Hortense is Black, while Cynthia is white. Hortense and Cynthia’s reappearance in each others’ lives is initially traumatic, bringing up long-buried memories for Cynthia while Hortense bears the weight of her ensuing emotional outbursts. But Cynthia’s fear and trepidation slowly gives way to an affection that’s both maternal and platonic — and before too long, the two are enjoying nights on the town together. Hortense, still going through her own grieving process for the woman who chose to raise her, finds solace in reconnecting with the woman who chose not to do the same. But Cynthia’s new vivaciousness raises eyebrows with much of her already-fractured family — who she’s never told about Hortense’s existence, let alone her sudden re-emergence. Before too long, Cynthia begins to withdraw from Hortense, knowing that at some point, these long-buried Secrets & Lies must give way to the truth.
I first saw Secrets & Lies as part of my semi-retired Catching Up with the Classics series, as my last Letterboxd-based review before I began to write for Cinapse full-time. On that first viewing, I marveled at how Leigh’s process of improvisation and collaboration with his actors led to unparalleled glimpses at real human drama — from the blink-and-you’ll-miss-them character snapshots in Maurice’s photography studio to the powerhouse acting showcases of unbroken takes at some of the film’s climactic moments, especially the scene between Blethyn and Jean-Baptiste where Cynthia remembers the circumstances of Hortense’s conception — which lends this edition its cover image.
Revisiting this film in what’s hopefully the waning months of the COVID-19 pandemic, it’s remarkable just how prescient Leigh is in his observations of human behavior. The characters of Secrets & Lies manage just as well to be isolated and disconnected from each other, often in self-imposed prisons of their own design. Cynthia and Maurice, despite having raised each other as children after the death of their own parents, can never bring themselves to call the other to check in or lend a friendly ear. Maurice is trapped with his wife Monica, where they retreat into the re-decoration of their empty six-bedroom home or another bottle of wine rather than discuss their increasingly tense relationship. On the opposite end, Cynthia vents endlessly about her problems to Roxanne, who’d rather stew in either misery or muted happiness rather than stagnate in complaining about her own past mistakes. Even Hortense spends much of Secrets & Lies’ first half on the precipice of contacting Cynthia, stopping herself short before she can make that furtive connection. At times, it feels like such an act may be a betrayal towards her now-deceased adoptive parents, to say nothing of the upheaval Hortense is already in sorting through the detritus of what belongings remain in their wake. Hortense is also fully aware of the trauma such outreach might bring with it, thanks to an amazingly tender scene featuring a one-scene performance by Leigh veteran Lesley Manville’s social worker. But Hortense’s bravery in reconnecting with Cynthia doesn’t just bring about much of the film’s more positive (if secretive) changes — it reveals the fierce social magnetism that belies much of Leigh’s beautifully flawed characters throughout his filmography.
Secrets & Lies is constructed in small, snapshot-like scenes with his characters in small isolated fragments. Even though the scenes are often full of people, sometimes captured from a distance amid real London street life, Leigh and cinematographer Dick Pope’s eyes are laser-focused on the actors within them — reducing everything else to a living, always roving sea of bodies. The effect turns each of Leigh’s scenes into small pockets of humanity, just one blip of joy or sadness among hundreds of equal parallel narratives that are abuzz at any moment. Each of these characters shares their own want to connect — Hortense to Cynthia, Cynthia to Maurice, Maurice to the women he cares about most — but often find mundane reasons to stay isolated. Over Secrets & Lies’ runtime, though, more and more of Leigh’s characters find ways to intrude on these little moments of drama — often despite the characters’ own best efforts to keep their actions hidden from everyone else. It’s as if the secrets they keep from each other have a consequential magnetism of their own that naturally seek out their own resolution — which in turn spurs the act of connection that the characters both crave and dread in equal measure. It’s a brilliant and bizarre dance to see play out over Secrets & Lies, and builds to a climax that’s as heart-wrenching as it is cathartic.
While a roundtable retrospective is understandably tempting to imagine in a COVID-less alternate universe, Criterion’s disc and transfer of Secrets & Lies more than matches the film’s revered reputation.
VIDEO/AUDIO
Criterion presents Secrets & Lies in a 1080p HD transfer in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio, sourced from a new 2K restoration performed by MK2 and supervised by director Mike Leigh and cinematographer Dick Pope. The restoration is accompanied by a 2.0 surround English audio track, remastered from a 35mm magnetic track. English SDH subtitles are provided for the feature film, but not the supplements.
Long out-of-print in the U.S. until this edition, Secrets & Lies looks remarkable in this new transfer. Bright hues and sharp contrasts, creating a naturalistic look throughout rich with detail. Of note are the actors’ eyes catching nearby light as they either avoid or fish for each other’s glances, as well as the varied fabrics of their lived-in, individualized costumes. There’s a healthy amount of film grain, but at a level that doesn’t distract from the picture overall. The audio track is also nicely mixed for a stereo track, expectedly prizing Leigh’s dialogue amongst a soundscape of city and suburban domestic buzz.
SPECIAL FEATURES
- Mike Leigh (2020 Interview): In a Zoom conversation with regular Leigh composer Gary Yershon, Leigh discusses the origins of Secrets & Lies major themes, the focus on the characters’ vocations and how they express the characters’ inner lives, an insightful clarity towards how Leigh’s improvisational process (and key withholding of information from his actors therein) led to the development of the film’s most revelatory (yet still scripted) sequences, and how the more fragmented, isolated segments of the film are carefully designed to inform the story’s greater thematic tapestry.
- Mike Leigh (1996 Interview): In a feature-length phone interview with film critic Michel Ciment, Leigh explores further origins of the creation of the film’s characters, his recurrent themes (especially in the context of a follow-up to Naked), and his organic relationship between himself, his actors, and their stories.
- Marianne Jean-Baptiste: In a Zoom conversation with film critic Corrina Antrobus, Jean-Baptiste discusses the legacy of Secrets & Lies, how Hortense’s position on the periphery of the Purleys’ family life creates rich opportunities to illuminate both groups of characters, the creation from the ground-up of Hortense, and the unpredictable nature of figuring out what elements of the Leigh rehearsal process may make their way into the final cut of a film.
- Trailer for Secrets & Lies’ theatrical release.
- Booklet featuring an essay by Criterion Collection Curatorial Director Ashley Clark. Clark’s essay, Seen and Not Seen, explores the film’s themes of vision and perception, Leigh’s skill at efficient character development, the initial controversy of the film’s treatment of race, a reflection on the opportunities seized and missed when it comes to Secrets & Lies’ depiction of Black British life, as well as an examination of the film’s enduring resonance.
Secrets & Lies is now available on Blu-ray and DVD courtesy of The Criterion Collection.
