Film n. 1: The Purple Rose of Cairo

LA SCELTA DI ZAZIE
Un'amica italiana, in questo periodo di confinamento, mi ha chiesto una lista di film imperdibili "secondo Zazie".
All'inizio avevo pensato di buttare giù qualche titolo, poi mi è venuta l'idea di fare dei brevi video in cui parlare dei film che amo e di cui possiedo uno (o più!) DVD/Blu-ray... e quindi eccomi qui!
Zazie ci mette la faccia e tutta la sua passione per il cinema, soprattutto in questo momento in cui le sale sono chiuse e non può fare la cosa che ama di più al mondo: sedersi in una sala buia ed aspettare con trepidazione l'inizio del film...
Vi presento quindi il primo film della serie "La Scelta di Zazie", che è un po' la base, la mia personale pietra miliare. Storia di un film nel film e di un attore che esce dallo schermo per incontrare la donna che lo guarda recitare da ore... sometimes, dreams come true! 
Buona visione dalla vostra Zazie

John and Mary

Avete presente quei film che avete visto una sola volta quando eravate piccoli ma che vi sono rimasti impressi in maniera indelebile? Anche se di loro ricordate soltanto dei frammenti di immagini: un volto, una stanza, una vaga atmosfera? Quei film che magari con il tempo avete cercato di recuperare, ma che è stato impossibile rivedere, perché per qualche strana ragione non si trovano in DVD, e non vengono mai dati né in TV né al cinema in qualche rassegna di vecchie pellicole? 
Ecco, l’altro giorno, girellando tra gli scaffali di Potemkine, il mio negozio di DVD preferito di tutta Parigi, mi è capitato tra le mani, con mia enorme gioia e sorpresa, un film che da anni sto cercando di ritrovare: John and Mary, di Peter Yates (1969):

L’unico guaio di questi film, ammettiamolo, è che possano risultare deludenti: si sa, nei ricordi tutto è più bello e più magico, e il rischio che la realtà non corrisponda alla perfezione della memoria è molto, molto alto. E poi, ovvio, vedere un film quando si hanno 15 anni e quando se ne hanno 30 di più, cambia un po’ la prospettiva sul mondo, e anche quella cinematografica. 
Di questo film in particolare, ricordavo le seguenti cose: la bellezza di Mia Farrow giovanissima, la dolcezza di Dustin Hoffman, la casa del protagonista con vista meravigliosa sui tetti di New York: 

Un ragazzo ed una ragazza stanno dormendo in un letto tutto bianco.
La ragazza si sveglia e si mette a vagare per le stanze con l’aria di qualcuno che stia cercando di capire dove si trova. In effetti, si trova nell’appartamento del ragazzo. E’ andata così: si sono conosciuti per caso la sera prima in un bar, hanno iniziato a parlare, e sono finiti da lui a “sentire dei dischi”. Quando anche lui si sveglia, ha inizio la loro giornata, una giornata in cui dovranno imparare a conoscersi, a capire chi sono e cosa vogliono fare “dopo”. E, solo alla fine, scopriranno i loro nomi: John and Mary. 

La piacevole sorpresa di rivedere questo film è stata quella di ritrovare intatte le sensazioni provate all’epoca della mia prima visione. John and Mary non è affatto invecchiato male (e la vostra Zazie aveva un ottimo gusto anche da piccola, diciamolo!). Certo, ci sono qua e là delle piccole ingenuità, ma il film era decisamente avanti per i suoi tempi: la struttura narrativa, l'uso dei flashforwards (nel 1969!), il fatto che il film si svolga quasi per intero nell'appartamento di John, i dialoghi franchi e poco romantici (bellissimi i pensieri a voce alta di entrambi con considerazioni sul comportamento dell'altro) e la visione molto realistica della coppia moderna, ne fanno un piccolo gioiello pre-flower power. 

E poi c'è l'infinito piacere di ritrovare due attori in stato di grazia: Dustin Hoffman qui aveva 32 anni, era fresco del successo di The Graduate (Il Laureato) e di Midnight Cowboy (Un Uomo da Marciapiede), e aveva quel giusto mix di dolcezza, goffaggine e sfrontatezza. Mia Farrow invece ne aveva solo 24, era reduce dal trauma di Rosemary's Baby ed era semplicemente perfetta nella parte della ragazza moderna che va a letto con qualcuno la prima sera ma non per questo ha voglia di essere considerata una puttana: "Ti stupirai ma qualche volta dico anche di no!", butta lì provocante (e comunque con quel meraviglioso taglio di capelli poteva permettersi di dire e fare qualsiasi cosa!).
John and Mary sembra tracciare una linea di confine tra il vecchio e il nuovo, inteso sia come modo di vivere che come modo di fare cinema. Sono i primi passi del cinema americano verso quella stagione d'oro dei film anni '70, che segneranno generazioni e generazioni di persone in tutto il mondo. 
Questo è un bel tentativo, un primo assaggio. Come recitava quella meravigliosa poesia di Brodskij: Non più rumore, non ancora musica... 
In ogni caso, bisogna dirlo, un suono molto bello.

Blue Jasmine

Black screen. Jazz music. Windsor font opening credits.
I have lived this same scene seated in a cinema every year of my life since I was 15, I reckon. A certainty more than a simple vision, a steady point in an ever changing world: a Woody Allen’s movie. 
There are days when I hope this is going to last until the end of world, or at least of mine (and since Woody’s parents are still alive, I count on his genes for that!). 
Not every vision has been the same, of course: sometimes it was enlightening, sometimes depressing, sometimes sidesplitting, sometimes inspiring and sometimes disappointing.
You can’t have it all, I guess.
After a circumnavigation that brought him around the world: London, Barcelona, Paris and Rome (I have to admit I refused to look at this last episode, because I understood it would have been part of the disappointing-almost unbearable ones!), Woody went back home, even if in San Francisco instead of the usual Manhattan, to deliver us this thing called Blue Jasmine. 

Jasmine (Cate Blanchett) 

Jasmine is a woman in her 40s whose privileged existence is turned upside down by the sudden bankruptcy of her husband. For her, used to fancy apartments, expensive gifts, glamorous parties, jet-set friends and a commitments-free life, this is the end of the world. Penniless, and with just a couple of souvenirs from her previous life (a Hermès bag, a Chanel dress and a pair of Roger Vivier shoes), Jasmine is obliged to join the only family she has left: a sister living in San Francisco. Both adopted, Jasmine and Ginger can’t be more different than they are: sophisticated and delicate the first, ordinary and messy the second. Their life together is not exactly idyllic, and for Jasmine is almost impossible to cope with a bad apartment, a new job, her sister’s two wild sons and gross boy-friends. Will she be able to survive to all that and find her way through a new life? Who knows… 

Dwight (Peter Sarsgaard) and Jasmine (Cate Blanchett) 

If there is one thing Allen is always been great at, it is to choose the right cast.
Even the worst of his movies could count on astonishing performances, and this has been especially true for actresses. I think the reason is simple: Allen adores women, he is able to understand them, to write about them, to let them be what they genuinely are. I mean, Diane Keaton in Annie Hall didn’t become an icon of her generation by chance. Not to mention some of the magnificent roles Allen wrote for Mia Farrow or Dianne Wiest. 
To play Jasmine, an extremely complex character, a woman perpetually on the verge of a nervous breakdown, Allen made the best possible choice: Australian actress Cate Blanchett. The movie is literally shaped on her: on her silhouette, on the way she talks, she looks, she wears, she drinks, she suffers and she swings between hope and despair. The subtlety of her performance is a never ending surprise: the actress gave herself completely to Jasmine, touching almost unbearable moments of truth. The rest of the cast is there to serve her but nevertheless extremely good, with a special mention for Leigh-esque Sally Hawkins as her sister and Bobby Cannavale as Ginger’s rude and simple-minded boyfriend. 

Jasmine (Blanchett), Eddie (Max Casella), Chili (Bobby Cannavale) and Ginger (Sally Hawkins)

How fake is the life we are living? Is our existence based upon real facts or based upon a fictional world we have invented for our own sake? Jasmine goes through her life always pretending: pretending Jasmine is her real name, pretending she’s always been rich, pretending her husband is not cheating on her and pretending her poor sister doesn’t almost exist. And then, when this house of cards collapses, giving her a real chance of changing things, she keeps making the same stupid mistake, pretending again. 
The older he gets the somber he becomes, Allen, following a Bergmanian path that he traced patiently film by film. In this one, there is no hope left.
As you sow you shall reap… not much in this case, I’m afraid.

Midnight in Paris for Cinema Blogger

My faithful readers already know about my friendship with super-talented Australian photographer Carla Coulson: she is the woman behind all Zazie’s official portraits.

Carla and I simply LOVE working together and every time a new idea comes up, we immediately take the chance and go for it. For her series of night portraits called Midnight in Paris, we decided to make some shots inspired - in the most flamboyant way - to cinema. 
It was such a funny night: walking around the streets of Montmartre like we were a filming crew, and stop at my place for changing my clothes and get ready to enter into a different universe that was first in our heads and imaginations before becoming a reality in her pictures. That’s the magic of photography as well as cinema: something you just dream about can become true!

Carla wrote about this night in her fabulous website: Midnight in Paris for Cinema Blogger Zazie, indicating the cinematic references we used for the job.

What I’d like to do here, is to share those "cinema pictures in my head” with you.

This proves that, even if I’m far away from being a movie star, sometimes you just have to really believe you can be one… and, well, maybe use a bit of imagination too! 

MAD MEN - Betty Draper

 

IN THE MOOD FOR LOVE - Maggie Cheung

 

JAMES DEAN UNDER THE RAIN IN NEW YORK

L'ANGELO AZZURRO - Marlene Dietrich

LA DOLCE VITA - Anita Ekberg

(ok, I agree, you have to use A LOT of imagination for that....)

MIA FARROW AT TRUMAN CAPOTE MASKED WHITE & BLACK BALL

Le Ragazze dai Capelli Corti

Qualche giorno fa sono andata a vedere una mostra molto bella alla Cinémathèque Française: Brune/Blonde (se non volete perderla, c'è tempo fino al 16 Gennaio 2011), che racconta di come il cinema abbia rappresentato negli anni le brune e le bionde.Corredata da fotografie, dipinti, riviste, e spezzoni tratti da documentari e da film, la mostra ha per protagonista assoluta la chioma delle donne. La scelta dei film, trattandosi della Cinémathèque, non fa una piega (ce n'è per tutti i gusti: Hitchcock, Lynch, Almodovar, Hawks, Antonioni, Fuller, Bergman, Kiarostami ecc.).

Tuttavia, devo ammetterlo, secondo me c'è una grave mancanza, ovvero l'assenza quasi totale di immagini di donne dai capelli corti. E questa a Zazie è sembrata una vera ingiustizia (per una questione di carattere puramente personale: vedi ritratto del mio blog).

Così, per rimediare, ho pensato di dimostrare - prove alla mano - che le donne dai capelli corti ci sono, eccome. Sullo schermo e in giro per le strade. E non hanno niente da invidiare a quelle con i capelli lunghi, perché...

... possono essere misteriose e imprevedibili

come Faye Wong in Chungking Express di Wong Kar-Wai (1994)

possono essere infantili e spaventate

come Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby di Roman Polanski (1968)

possono essere sexy da morire

come Halle Berry in Die Another Day di Lee Tamahori (2002)

possono essere fragili e irresistibili

come Natalie Portman in Hotel Chevalier di Wes Anderson (2007)

possono essere di una classe insuperabile

come Audrey Hepburn in Sabrina di Billy Wilder (1954)

o possono essere, semplicemente, adorabili

come Jean Seberg in A Bout de Souffle di Jean-Luc Godard (1959)

Insomma, Corto is Cool, non siete d'accordo?

September (Underestimated n° 2)

All bloggers have their favourite month, I guess.

As far as I'm concerned, it is September. I love the end of summer, the warm light in the streets at sunset, the crispy colours of things around me.

Every time September is back, I think about the Woody Allen movie having the same title. It is one of those Allen's movies people usually don't talk about and I never understood why. I watched it for the first time 23 years ago, in a Milan cinema, and I still clearly remember how much I was taken by this picture.

Lane (Mia Farrow) and Stephanie (Dianne West)

A house in Vermont, six characters, different loving disasters.
The movie never shows the outside world. This is a "chamber piece", a theatrical movie.
The owner of the house is Lane, a woman who's recovering from a nervous breakdown. It is the end of the summer and few friends has joined her for the week-end. Lane is in love with Peter, a writer, but Peter is in love with Stephanie, Lane's best friend, while Howard, a neighbour, is in love with Lane.

Things are already a bit complicated, but to make them worse, Diane (very lively Lane's mother) arrived at the house together with her third husband. Friends will spend the days talking, eating, drinking, avoiding to show or showing their feelings to the others, until a big storm comes to trouble them. It is a kind of signal: all the things remained unsaid until that moment come to surface, exploding and exposing the hidden feelings and wounds of the group.

There will not be blood, but tons of sadness.

Diane (Elaine Stritch), Lane's mother

Interestingly enough, Woody Allen directed September twice. He practically made the movie a second time because he wasn't happy about the first version, and especially his cast. He had the guts to replace two actors like Christopher Walken and Sam Shepard for the role which was eventually played by Sam Waterson, and even to replace Maureen O'Sullivan with Elaine Stritch for the role of Diane. Not that O'Sullivan was extremely famous, but she was (at that time) Allen's mother-in-law. Bad move, I guess.

By the way, I was personally very happy with the cast, thanks to the presence of an actor and an actress I have always been a huge fan of: Denholm Elliott (probably better known for his role as Mr. Emerson in A room with a view, who sadly died few years afterwards, in 1992), who's playing Howard, and Dianne Wiest (an amazing actress, and here particularly adorable with her short haircut), who plays Stephanie.

Lane (Mia Farrow) and Peter (Sam Waterson)

What I really like about September, is that Woody Allen doesn't even try to make people laugh.

I think this is one of the few movies (together with Interiors and Another Woman) where Allen allowed himself to show his (deeply) dark side. I mean, it is not by chance that Ingmar Bergman is his favourite film-maker. I read very often that this could be considered Allen's Autumn Sonata (because of the relationship between Lane and her mum), but I think that September is more Allen's Winter Light. It is just that, instead of winter in Sweden, it is autumn in Vermont.
Many themes he cherishes are present here: the cruelty of love, the volubility of feelings, the betrayal, the difficulty of human relationships, the meaning of life and the reasons behind this universe's existence. Allen's vision is not a cheerful one, and September doesn't leave the audience with much hope. In his other movies, Allen is usually able to hide his gloomy attitude through the lens of irony. I think about that scene of Radio Days where a little boy is taken to see a doctor by his mum because he is depressed. When the doctor asks him why, he answers: "Because the universe is expanding". And his mum replies: "But you live in Brooklyn and Brooklyn is not expanding!".
Maybe somebody should say to Woody that Manhattan is not expanding as well.

This is the only scene of September I was able to find on the net (with Spanish subtitles!) but it is a good example of the general atmosphere of the movie.