Gladys, going around the Columbus Circle billboard: "Every time I see it, I get a bigger one than last time. (Pause) Boot".
(Talking about boys) "When they're big enough, they're old enough".
- "What's the angle?"
- "The average American girl"
- "There's a lot of penetration there!"
"facts are stupid things" Ronald Reagan
Oh yeah... Good old code-era implied sauciness!
Sometimes I secretly prey for a new trend in cinema that would consist entirely of remaking the films of, say, Lars Von Trier, Pasolini, Verhoeven, Deodato, Argento, Peckinpah, Noe, Roth, Miike et al. in compliance with the Hayes production code standards.
And of course the next trend that would immediately follow this one would be to have those of these directors that are still alive remake all the code-era films. Eli Roth and Takashi Miike first in line.
Not quite certain which trend would produce the best films.
Pretty sure they'd all be more watchable than anything produced during the super-hero trend though.
Sounds like an interesting experiment - wonder how much of the identity of the originals (if any at all) would be left after such a makeover. There're of course two ways of looking at the Code-influenced cinema, both of them valid to an extent - on one hand, the restrictions forced unwelcome compromise on the material, but on the other hand made the filmmakers try and find creative ways to work around this nonsense. Me, I've come to feel really at home with the Classic Hollywood aesthetic, but it certainly took time to get there. Probably close to 200 pre-1960's films before things clicked. Still - the endings, designed to fit the Hays requirements, often feel either predictably routine or even inappropriate. But that's not terribly difficult to overlook.
On a related note, I've sometimes thought that Argento, whom you mention, could've made a pretty great director in silent era, considering that it's precisely the dialogue that constantly serves to undermine his movies. And the bizarrely stilted acting may have also been a better fit in that world of more extravagant gestures - given a little tinkering.
"facts are stupid things" Ronald Reagan
Sounds like an interesting experiment - wonder how much of the identity of the originals (if any at all) would be left after such a makeover.We *kinda* already know the answer for the second experiment don't we?
...I've become to feel really at home with the Classic Hollywood aesthetic, but it certainly took time to get there.I tend to think that one definite upside of code-era output is that it certainly made for subtler viewers, especially in those films where the directors had to film "against" the script and around the production code restrictions in order to realize their vision.
...the endings, designed to fit the Hays requirements, often feel either predictably routine or even inappropriate.I hear you.
Nick Ray was the master at turning Code restrictions into great, subtly subversive cinema, and the Bigger Than Life example you cite truly is an unnerving ending. It's almost fitting that Ray stopped making (narrative) films right before the Code collapsed and the New Hollywood movement started, because I feel he worked so well under those restrictions that they were maybe even essential to his cinema. Still, it would have been interesting to see him make a real, uncensored, gritty studio picture in the late 60s or 70s.
As for the larger topic at hand, lately I've been really appreciating directors like Ray, Minnelli and Sirk for making films that smuggled such rawness and poetry into otherwise lavish, commercial productions. Something about that is more impressive than an independent, unmonitored X-rated passion project.
I feel he worked so well under those restrictions that they were maybe even essential to his cinema.Now that's an interesting consideration... I wonder if an artist who has matured and made his magna opera all under strong creative constraints would feel he's missing something when those disappeared. I suppose a genuine artist would probably adapt within the span of a few films under this new freedom.
lately I've been really appreciating directors like Ray, Minnelli and Sirk for making films that smuggled such rawness and poetry into otherwise lavish, commercial productions.Oh yeah. Quite like Sirk myself. Imitation of Life and All That Heaven Allows ahead. share
"Look for directors who started working and made significant films during the production code era and carried on into the New Hollywood".
Thought of it briefly and it would seem that, surprisingly or not, there really aren't too many who made a significant mark under the changed circumstances. I guess John Huston goes farthest back and although he never had any particularly distinctive signature style, it's still quite amazing that he managed to make something like the 1972 Fat City - a down and dirty, drab and gritty character study very much in line with the New Hollywood spirit (in a blind test, I'd probably thought it's directed by someone like Bob Rafelson). An excellent film, too.
With Frenzy, Hitchcock certainly gave a glimpse of what his cinema may have looked like without restrictions - only to revert back to older-fashioned stylistics for his final Family Plot.
Then there's Sidney Lumet, but he came relatively late to the Hays party and some of his earlier stuff, like The Pawnbroker & The Hill were already comparatively edgy and unforgiving, anyway. And of course there's Kubrick - but Kubrick is Kubrick, so there's that.
The changing of the guards in the late 1960's was indeed quite thorough.
"facts are stupid things" Ronald Reagan
We can perhaps count John Frankenheimer in too.
He made some of his best films near the end of the production code era, before 1966 (Birdman of Alcatraz, The Mandchurian Candidate, Seven Days in May...) then Seconds in 66 ,two years before the Hays code was officially abandoned in favour of the MPAA rating (but was already seriously ailing).
He then went on to make a couple of "interesting" to almost good films well into the 90's (from French Connection II to Ronin...).
I can't seem to comment intelligently on his transition though...
I believe Frankenheimer is more of a film maker you think of when you consider that short and strange transition period of identity crisis American cinema underwent between the mid-sixties and just before the New Hollywood. Basically between JFK's assassination in 1963, up to 1968.
Films like Seconds are joyous (but interesting) messes that are hard to categorize and that definitely don't clearly fit within either period.
I guess Frank (and Eleanor) Perry's name would come to mind too when considering that transition period (he started too late to ever have been considered a code-era film maker though, only made two films before 68), with films like The Swimmer and Last Summer being weird jewels that are absolutely characteristic of that strange period, before going full 70's with Doc (his "McCabe and Ms. Miller").
Seconds strikes me as one of the earliest examples of New Hollywood filmmaking. There's little to differentiate it from the raw, experimental and often disturbing films of that era (though I suppose its use of B&W, very much a deliberate choice by 1966, is unusual among New Hollywood films). The film is definitely flawed and messy but still something of a great picture just by sheer virtue of its many strengths. Its ending remains one of the great cinematic gut-punches.
Frankenheimer is an interesting director who probably had the talent to make more great films than he managed. Nevertheless, that period of his in the 60s is quite good.
That's certainly a valid and interesting point.
Personally, though I absolutely love Seconds -as I do Frankenheimer's whole trilogy of paranoia- it never quite felt to me like a full-fledged New Hollywood piece just yet.
I guess, mostly because of its sexual politics and the casting of Rock Hudson:
- Both (polar opposite) conceptions and ideas of the couple and man/woman interactions depicted in the film seem outdated compared to that of the 70's (either the superficially-picture-perfect-50's-suburban-separated-bed couple or the hippy-new-age-liberated-grape-stomping-free-loving couple).
Things moved really really fast between the late sixties and the early 70's, and I understand both of these ideas were pretty much dead by the beginning of the New Hollywood and already in an advanced state of decomposition by the end of '74.
Though it's true Frankenheimer depicts both as ultimately unfulfilling dead ends in Seconds, the protagonist himself seems to long for his former life and wish to return to the tranquil and boring suburban existence he had with wifey (a life that is still possible in '66, but not for him) whereas most New Hollywood films were more about how you can't return home because it doesn't exist anymore.
- By 1966 Hudson was already a veteran of classical Hollywood pieces (we were just mentioning Sirk's films...) and a way too handsome actor compared to the New Hollywood every-man underdog, even though I understand that's precisely the point of the story and the character is, in fact, really a nobody. Plus it's true Warren Beatty in all those early New Hollywood films wasn't exactly ugly either...
Seconds is undoubtedly a film that is aware of the end of the sixties and the counter-culture movements, the sexual liberation, etc. and the identity crisis is definitely there but it doesn't quite "think" the 70's yet and the New Hollywood scepticism and disillusionment (and it would have been truly impressive if it had, since it came before the Watergate, Bobby Kennedy's assassination, the Kent State shootings, etc. but I'm not sure Frankenheimer, for all his talent, was a man of sufficient vision or foresight.)
Its ending remains one of the great cinematic gut-punches.You can say that again! The ending of Perry's "The Swimmer" packs a similar punch I'd say. share
Eh, I know it's just splitting hairs at this point but I'd argue that while all that may be true, it doesn't mean the film isn't an example of New Hollywood -- just that it's a very early example of such. I think the film's incredibly downbeat nature, its questioning of accepted American values, its quasi-experimental aesthetic that plunders from European cinema (Godard/French New Wave, Antonioni, et al), its fractured and unorthodox structure (or just the way it uses two different actors for the same character)... these are all strong features of the New Hollywood film. Sure, the film is obviously a product of its time, of the mid-sixties, of a burgeoning counterculture which nevertheless has not yet quite emerged -- and thus is different from post-68 films which are often weighted with a certain pessimism or political engagement. Yet it's still an extremely dark and gritty film, for any period of Hollywood. And so I think saying it lacks that specific mood of 1968-74 or whatever, is kind of missing the point, just how a film like Cutter's Way is to me one of the greatest New Hollywood films despite being from 1981 and very much reflecting the dawn of Reaganism in a way which would have been impossible a decade earlier.
In other words, New Hollywood really, I think, spans about fifteen years -- from the late sixties through the entire seventies and into the very early eighties. From about 1966-1981, let's say. I disagree with the common idea that the movement ended with Jaws in 1975, or with Star Wars in 1977. It began to decline in popularity around 1975, and the tone and style of the films from then on changed a bit, becoming generally less gritty and more polished and big-budget -- it's the difference between The French Connection and Sorcerer, let's say, or between The Landlord and Being There, or Mean Streets and New York New York. The New Hollywood films of the early seventies tended to be made on shoestring budgets and have a rather small, intimate scale, whereas from 1975 or so onward there's a lot more high-concept and glossy films, less intimate character study and more grand genre films or "prestige" pictures about Very Important Issues.
Then you have 1981, which is such a great year and such an almost picture-perfect last gasp for the New Hollywood cinema. Cutter's Way, Blow Out and Prince of the City -- masterpieces all -- perfectly close out this movement by deliberately looking back on it, or at least the times that shaped it: Cutter's Way is centered around a Vietnam vet and (I think) set around 1976 when the book it's based on was released, even though as I mentioned it emanates a certain 1980-81 malaise; Blow Out is not just a homage to the perceptual mind-games of Blow Up and The Conversation, but a film that follows in the tradition of New Hollywood fatalistic political thrillers like The Parallax View and Chinatown, ultimately agreeing with their cynicism but having an even sadder edge by virtue of its post-70s, Reaganite specter of a new, more psychotic fascism; and Prince of the City, set in a wonderfully gritty 70s NYC, proves to be the best "gritty 70s NY" film of all, and a better "police corruption"/cop movie than Serpico and The French Connection combined.
In that same year you have Mann's Thief and the next year Blade Runner, both of which (while showing traits of New Hollywood) seem to signal a new way forward, a kind of glossy expressionism depicting the capitalistic dystopia of Reagan's Brave New World. From there on it's all over.
Thanks for the detailed reply.
Eh, I know it's just splitting hairs at this pointNothing wrong with a reasonable dose of healthy and polite hair splitting.
I think saying it lacks that specific mood of 1968-74 or whatever, is kind of missing the point.You are right and I agree. I indeed failed to discuss the form and only mentioned context, which in itself doesn't qualify as sufficient justification.
I think the film's incredibly downbeat nature, its questioning of accepted American values, its quasi-experimental aesthetic that plunders from European cinema (Godard/French New Wave, Antonioni, et al), its fractured and unorthodox structure (or just the way it uses two different actors for the same character)... these are all strong features of the New Hollywood film.I guess we agree on the symptoms but will have to disagree on the final diagnostic.
New Hollywood really, I think, spans about fifteen years -- from the late sixties through the entire seventies and into the very early eighties. From about 1966-1981, let's say.Pinpointing the end or the beginning of most artistic currents or periods is often arduous.
I disagree with the common idea that the movement ended with Jaws in 1975, or with Star Wars in 1977. It began to decline in popularity around 1975, and the tone and style of the films from then on changed a bit, becoming generally less gritty and more polished and big-budgetAgreed.
Prince of the City, set in a wonderfully gritty 70s NYC, proves to be the best "gritty 70s NY" film of all, and a better "police corruption"/cop movie than Serpico and The French Connection combined.Well said!
I think that's a good point about Seconds's aesthetic being more one of mid/late-60s overstuffed experimentation than the style most common to the New Hollywood cinema. Though basically the New Hollywood films borrowed tons from the same influences as Seconds, and more -- they just did it in a more subdued manner. But I would agree that, whatever Seconds is, it doesn't quite feel like a New Hollywood film in the sense that we understand the term; it's only when you look at it more abstractly, analyze its disparate parts, that it seems like it could fall under the same umbrella.
Prince of the City is an astonishing piece of cinema (in other words, I'll take that movie over not just Serpico, but all three Godfathers and On the Waterfront combined...) Even though I've only seen maybe ten Lumet films at most, not a lot considering his vast filmography, I'm willing to bet that none of the others are better. Can't imagine it. Though I am definitely very fond of The Verdict, as well as Running on Empty and Dog Day Afternoon. Have to admit I didn't care much for Night Falls on Manhattan, though -- lots of juicy turns by great character actors and a few stunning set pieces were overshadowed by an overall air of fatigue and banality, and what I thought was a ludicrously miscast Andy Garcia; it felt like watered-down Lumet, lacking the bite of his best work. I'd like to check it out again sometime, though, and didn't hate it. Q & A was a better late-career cop movie from Lumet, but suffered from some poorly judged music and acting if I recall correctly. Prince of the City, on the other hand, is peerless. Not very much wrong with it besides that it's not long enough! You rarely get that kind of epic filmmaking that's both satisfying emotionally and formally. Really I think the film's actually a master-class in directing and in subtly tailoring mise-en-scene to the story; there's a reason why Kurosawa once called it one of the greatest examples of visual storytelling he'd ever seen.
And I would greatly appreciate if you could translate Thoret's analysis! Your efforts in translating his Miami Vice analysis were something akin to a public service, for Mann fans at least. Never read or heard any of his thoughts on Lumet.
Wow, you are in for a treat -- I think you will love Cutter's Way. Calling it Chinatown's scruffy younger brother doesn't quite do it justice, but it's a good start. Like I said, it feels to me like almost a distillation of so many New Hollywood/70s cinema tropes, but in particular the paranoid/political thriller and the neo-noir (The Parallax View, Chinatown, The Conversation, Three Days of the Condor, etc.) What's unique about it, though, is that it's so uninterested in genre conventions, and for much of its running time feels more like a character study of this group of misfits and "unimportant" people than a typical crime film or noir (in this respect, and in its potent sense of California location, it recalls the also very underrated Mike's Murder from 1984, directed by James Bridges, which forgets its suspense/crime aspects in order to foreground the sad and uncanny human elements left in the wake of the titular killing). It's grungy and gritty, but also beautifully shot by Jordan Cronenweth, who of course would go on to lens Blade Runner just a year later. It's a great humanist film, a film with a real feel for life and people -- the kinds of people that aren't usually explored, at least not compassionately, in Hollywood films.
Additionally, I must highly, highly recommend the book Cutter's Way is adapted from -- 1976's "Cutter and Bone" by Newton Thornburg. In many ways the book is even better, if such a comparison between mediums can be made; it's easily one of the greatest novels I've ever had the pleasure of reading.
I would greatly appreciate if you could translate Thoret's analysis!You got it! Been itching to translate this one for a while anyway...