Be Still My Beating Heart
Every time I watch Moulin Rouge I totally fall in love with Ewan McGregor again. It’s such a romantic film, yet the OTT hamming it up just makes me burst out laughing every time. There are so many great lines in it too (I particularly love Harold Zidler’s, delivered in the brilliant Jim Broadbent’s gleeful, fruity voice: Everything's going so well!; I'll leave you two squirrels to get better acquainted; Everyone's counting on you gosling; and Sateen’s I love a little poetry after supper.
Of course the mish-mash of music lyrics are brilliant too – there are too many too mention, but I love Like a Virgin (laugh out loud) and Roxanne (soo sexy!).
I love the vintage look of the opening sequence, and the Green Fairy scene with Kylie Minogue. I own the special edition DVD with an extra disk of bonus material, which carries one of the best selections of behind-the-scenes and production featurettes I’ve seen on any DVD. The design of the DVD menus is great looking too, as is the booklet that comes with the CD.
There is one fascinating section called Smoke and Mirrors, which is all about the evolution of the intro, and the creation of the green fairy. The nostalgic old film stock look – complete with scratches and flickering lights – of the intro is used when Christian is sadly writing his love story in his little attic.
And the green fairy feature is a fascinating insight into the making of her look. The sequence happens so fast in the film that it’s easy to miss the details – Kylie Minogue’s eyes glowing red, showing her evil side, and the hallucinogenic whirlpool she drags the bohemians through.
You know you’re a real bohemian if you believe in Truth, Beauty, Freedom … but above all: Love.
Indie Posters
Film posters are part of the urban landscape. We see them everywhere. Sometimes they are so generic that one banal film is indistinguishable from another. But not in Poland.
A tradition of poster art began with the emergence of a poster school in the late 1950s, lead by the painter, drawer and graphic artist, Henryk Tomaszewski. Everyone wanted a piece from this community of artists: for many years there was no film, opera or theatre premiere, concert, festival or other public event without a poster. One artist recalls that at the height of demand he was making a poster every week, and had to even decline commissions.
Films from around the world were reimagined by a great number of different artists, in a multitude of styles. These posters are works of art, a far cry from the commercial propositions inflicted on us today. Sadly, with the changes in applied graphics globally, the tradition of popular poster art is in decline in Poland. It is now more likely to be seen on the walls of an art gallery rather than plastered on the brick wall of a pub.
Read more about the history of this fine art at Polish Poster, where you can also purchase a vintage poster or three. Scroll down for some more of my favourites.
The Ballet Russes
Last week I hired a number of DVDs that had been on my list to watch for a while. The 2005 documentary The Ballet Russes was one of them. I was keen to learn about the set and costume designers of the Ballet Russe. There was little on them as it happened, but all the same I found the documentary fascinating and moving.
There was much of the history that I knew little or nothing about: Sergei Diaghilev’s ballet company came from young Russian dancers trained in Paris, exiled from Russia after the revolution of 1917. The director died in 1929, and after Diaghilev’s original Ballet Russe disbanded, the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo was formed under a partnership. It in turn split in two, with one partner creating the Original Ballet Russe. It was this company that found its way to Australia during WWII.
The company’s productions created a world-wide sensation. It was a completely new style of ballet, with avant-garde sets, imaginative costumes, and extraordinary choreography and music. The company collaborated with many contemporary artists, including Matisse, Chanel, Picasso and Dalí. Much of the public did not understand it at first, and was outraged, but eventually the companies that toured the world during the War inspired a generation, and still do.
What A Glorious Feeling!
Melbourne’s in for rain and more rain this week … there’s a thundercloud overhead right now in fact, rumbling away. Everyone is desperate for sunshine, but our notoriously badly-behaved spring is running true to form.
So batten down the hatches, pop some corn and cosy up in front of a dvd: Singin’ in the Rain, to be precise. What better film to take your mind off the weather? There’s laughter, romance, 1920s fashion, glorious technicolour – and jumping in puddles.
Of course, Gene Kelly’s Don Lockwood is feeling particularly joyful because he’s just fallen in love, but this movie is so light-hearted and uplifting that your troubles will be gone with the wind. (Sorry, I couldn’t resist the pun.)
If you want a real review because you have never (gasp! what rock have you been hiding under?) seen this film, go to Webomatica. The reviewer weighs up The Good and The Bad, and I can’t help but agree with him:
Works on multiple levels: musical, romantic comedy, social satire, and mood enhancer — each viewing puts me in a good mood, as it reminds me of the joy of movies and life itself. Another movie everyone should see before they die.
Picture Show
Reflecting recently on memorable biopics about artists, I remembered years ago having the opportunity to see the 1974 film Edvard Munch by Peter Watkins (right). It was shown at ACMI’s Cinematheque, and I recall being absolutely enthralled watching the film.
Munch (1863–1944), the Norwegian Expressionist painter is most famous for his painting The Scream, one of the pieces in a series titled The Frieze of Life. The film covers a thirty-year period in Munch’s life, from his harrowing childhood oppressed by death and disease, to his bohemian young adulthood during which he began an obsessive affair with a married woman. In his lifetime, Munch’s avant-garde work was reviled for his unusual style (of colour and texture) and themes of death, illness and eroticism alike.
What is fascinating about the film is the director’s documentary approach: he employs hand-held cameras, a narrator, and mostly non-professional Norwegian actors who sometimes speak directly to camera, as though being interviewed. Additionally, he deliberately chose actors who intensely disliked Munch’s work to better express the hostility of Munch’s contemporaries.
Watkins’ technique creates the delightful impression that one is watching a film of the period – which of course is impossible since film was then in its infancy. Watching it was an extraordinary experience.
Watkins’ technique creates the delightful impression that one is watching a film of the period …
I have always enjoyed Munch’s work, but gained a new appreciation for his paintings and prints when the National Gallery of Victoria International held an exhibition on him a few years ago. I particularly loved the atmospheric rolling landscapes, with their voluptuous shapes, amorphous in the dusk. His pictures of lovers embracing were also fascinating, their shapes merging together, both a metaphor and an illusion brought on by the cover of darkness. Watkins’ film only brings one closer to understanding the man who created such compelling pictures.
See all of Munch’s paintings at WikiPaintings, and read more about the film at Rotten Tomatoes.