ROCCO AND HIS BROTHERS: AN URBAN TALE OF ONE FAMILY'S RUINATION

A key moment in Luchino Visconti's (The Leopard) 1960 epic Rocco and His Brothers comes near the end when Rocco (Alain Delon) declares to his family that he dreams of one day returning to their land in Northern Italy.  The film tells the story of five brothers who, along with their recently widowed mother, Rosaria (Katina Paxinou), make the transition from a rural setting to the urban environs of Milan.  Although Visconti equally divides the film into a chapter per brother, the heart of the picture concerns the destructive rift that develops between Rocco and his brother Simone (Renato Salvatori), a downward spiral that Rocco (and the film itself) seems to believe has come about as a result of the move to Milan.

Rocco and Simone are torn asunder by their competition for Nadia (Annie Girardot), a prostitute who cynically hangs about Simone until he is no longer useful to her, only to be transformed by the affections of Rocco.  Just when it seems possible that Rocco and Nadia's bond could neutralize their individual sorrows, Simone's violent jealousy rears its ugly head, prompting Rocco to make one of several bitter sacrifices for his callously unappreciative brother.

Visconti's film is said to have been a strong influence on the work of Martin Scorsese and Francis Ford Coppola.  Both directors have made films revolving around themes similar to those present in Rocco; the destruction of familial bonds, often featuring characters with mercurial temperaments.  Scorsese notes in his documentary on Italian cinema, My Voyage to Italy, that the outsized emotions on display in films like Visconti's were a revelation upon first viewing.

It's easy to draw comparisons between the quickly shifting character dynamics at play in Rocco and His Brothers and those present in Mean Streets or Goodfellas.  Likewise, Coppola seems to have taken note of Visconti's drama heightening use of Nino Rota's score, borrowing the composer for his Godfather trilogy; a choice perfectly suiting the analogous tragedy befalling the Corleone family.

It's worth mentioning how difficult it is to see Rocco and His Brothers as Visconti intended it.  The current U.S. dvd edition is non-anamorphic widescreen, meaning that, if you own a modern 16X9 television display, the disc will force a compromise in quality to fill the screen with the image and, even then, the film was transferred in the wrong aspect ratio.  Worse yet, it's the truncated cut of the film, missing twelve minutes of footage that were excised when the film opened in the U.S. in 1961.

Fortunately, the version playing at the NW Film Center this weekend restores Rocco and His Brothers to its original 180-minute running time.  It's a rare chance to see the film as it was meant to be seen, on a large theater screen with its full story intact.

The newly restored, original 180min. cut of Rocco and His Brothers will screen at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) on Fri., March 23rd & Sat., March 24th at 7pm and again on Sun., March 25th at 4pm. 


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IT'S OUR 100TH POST + NOIRVILLE @ CINEMA 21!!!

As the title of this posting indicates, we've hit a modest milestone here at The Rain Falls Down on Portlandtown.  One hundred posts in just over a year's time and it only feels like the blog is beginning to pick up steam.

What better way to celebrate than with the news that local treasure Cinema 21 is following up their week long birthday party for two classic films with a series they've dubbed Noirville!

Back when I lived in the SF Bay Area, it seemed like there were several film noir fests programmed per year. It's been a good long while since a theater in PDX programmed a series dedicated to the genre (was this the last time?), so this is truly exciting news!

The press release states:
"Cinema 21 proudly presents… NoirVille!

One entire week of Film Noir’s Greatest Hits! 
Twelve films in all. And for you über film geeks, nine of them are on sumptuous 35mm!

The films speak for themselves; they’re classics all. But what should be stressed is that this is a very rare opportunity to see on the big screen, as they were intended, twelve quintessential examples of a style, a feeling, a mood of American films the French aptly named Noir. To borrow a phrase from Raymond Chandler, 'The streets were dark with something more than night.' And now so is Cinema 21!"


Featured at Cinema 21's Noirville:

Orson Welles' 1958 film Touch of Evil:

John Huston's The Maltese Falcon (1941) and The Asphalt Jungle (1950):

Charles Laughton's 1955 film The Night of the Hunter (tied with Days of Heaven as my favorite film):

Stanley Kubrick's The Killing (1956):

Howard Hawks' The Big Sleep (1946):

Jacques Tourneur's Out of the Past (1947):

Fritz Lang's Scarlet Street (1945):

Alexander Mackendrick's Sweet Smell of Success (1957):

Robert Aldrich's Kiss Me Deadly (1955):

and Edmund Goulding's Nightmare Alley (1947):

Here's the fantastic poster for the event:

Noirville begins at Cinema 21 on Friday, March 23rd.  More info available here.

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JIRO DREAMS OF SUSHI: WHEREIN THE DAILY GRIND LASTS A LIFETIME

Last year, the non-fiction films Bobby Fischer Against the World and Senna both recognized that obsessive repetition is often the common thread amongst those we label as geniuses.  This crucial concept lies at the heart of David Gelb's Jiro Dreams of Sushi, a portrait of shokunin Jiro Ono, a man whose entire life has been given without limits to the betterment of his craft.

Ono practices his magic at Sukiyabashi Jiro, a small, 10-seat eatery snugly nestled in the corner of Tokyo's underground rail station.  Belying the unexceptional location, the restaurant is the only sushi-based dining establishment in the world to have received a three-star Michelin rating, an honor extended to Jiro and his staff for five years running now.  Fundamentally, Jiro Dreams of Sushi is an introduction to the world's greatest sushi chef, for those not already in the know.

The film emphasizes the focused repetition that drives Jiro's art.  There's nary an interview subject in the piece who doesn't marvel at the chef's unyielding pursuit of perfection.  Gelb uses food writer Masuhiro Yamamoto's extensive knowledge of and gushing enthusiasm for Jiro's work as an entry point into the intimate spaces of Sukiyabashi Jiro's kitchen and dining area.

From there, we meet Jiro's eldest son, Yoshikazu, who is expected to take over the reigns when Jiro finally steps down; a monumental task in the face of his father's legacy.  As a veteran of Jiro's kitchen puts it, Yoshikazu will have to "make sushi twice as good as his father" to be seen as his equal, such is the esteem with which Jiro is held in the culinary world.

Everything about Jiro's philosophy is bent towards continual improvement.  We're told that he asks that his apprentices make a ten year commitment, though only the truly dedicated survive long in his kitchen.  Gelb's camera ventures outside the confines of the restaurant to meet the fish and rice vendors who supply Jiro with the quality of ingredients he demands.

Each vendor comes off as idiosyncratic and detail-oriented as Jiro himself; there's an entertaining discussion between a rice merchant and Jiro about who deserves (and is capable of cooking) the variety of rice he sells.  The trip is a revelation, pointing to the collaboration that makes Jiro's work possible, something that Jiro himself broaches later in the film when discussing the support he receives from his staff.

There's an expectation that cinema tied to food will inspire hunger.  Jiro Dreams of Sushi certainly fulfills that assumption while being surprisingly emotionally substantial as well.  Gelb presents Jiro as a man with self-denying commitment to his passion.  And his passion is contagious.

Jiro Dreams of Sushi opens at the Hollywood Theatre and Living Room Theaters on Friday, March 23rd.



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1 QUICK FIX #THREE: ORGANISM

Fans of Koyaanisqatsi (1982) and Baraka (1992) should take note of the groundbreaking, Academy award-winning short film Organism (1975).  Made over the course of fifteen years by experimental film director Hilary Harris, the short work pioneered many of the techniques at play in the aforementioned feature-length films.

Harris was given credit for additional cinematography on Koyaanisqatsi and Organism's influence on the post-production stage of that film, as well as the work of just about anyone working with time-lapsed and/or tilt-shifted imagery, looms large.

The film's title refers to its relational meditation based in scale between living organisms and the metropolis that is New York City.  Harris intercuts microscopic footage of biological systems at work with moving images of the city as traffic flows through it, electric light replaces natural light and structures are destroyed and replaced, comparing and contrasting the movements in a manner that uncannily unites them.

Here's a short interview about Organism from Hilary Harris' 1979 appearance on "Screening Room" with Robert Gardner:

And, finally, here is Organism in its entirety (you'll need to log into Fandor via Facebook in order to view the entire film--unfortunately the only way it's available on the web):

A dvd compilation of Hilary Harris' films, including Organism, is available for purchase here.

Related links:

1 QUICK FIX #ONE: POWERS OF TEN 

1 QUICK FIX #TWO: UNE NUIT SUR LE MONT CHAUVE (A NIGHT ON BALD MOUNTAIN)
1 QUICK FIX #FOUR: THE GREAT ECSTASY OF WOODCARVER STEINER 

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FAMILY PICTURES present: THE NEVERENDING STORY--SAT. @ HOLLYWOOD THEATRE

A couple years ago, a good friend and I were driving back to my place after having caught a screening of Spike Jonze' Where the Wild Things Are.  Both of us were really impressed with Jonze' sorrowfully beautiful film--probably the best film I can think of about childhood depression--and our conversation quickly drifted towards recollections of other children's films that don't talk down to kids, treating them instead as they are: intelligent, emotional creatures capable of dealing with the kind of difficult subjects that most films made for kids tend to avoid.

I offered up Carroll Ballard's exceptional 1979 adaptation of The Black Stallion as an example of a sophisticated and respectfully made film for children; I saw the movie on the big screen as a young child and immediately latched on to its story of survival, triumph and sadness, probably more than any live action film before it.  My buddy met my fond movie memory with his own: The Neverending Story.  In that film the hero is told that "the Nothingness" is coming and there's nothing heavier than that idea--of everything being replaced by nothing.  We both recalled having our minds blown by that one.

This Saturday afternoon, families can head on over to The Hollywood Theatre for a rare chance to catch that latter film on the big screen.  Directed by Wolfgang Petersen, the 1984 kids' classic screens only once, so don't miss out!  It sure beats getting dragged by your kids to the mall for a second or third go at The Lorax, right?

The Neverending Story has a single screening this weekend at the Hollywood Theatre on Saturday, March 17th at 2pm.  More info available here.


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THE FP: ANYONE FOR A ROUND OF BEAT-BEAT REVELATION?

There's a very specific audience that's going to connect with Brandon and Jason Trost's film The FP.  Diehard fans of dance-off genre films like Breakin' should have an entry into the world that the Trost Bros. have created here.  B-movie geeks, especially those who have embraced Walter Hill's cult classic The Warriors certainly will find something to celebrate, too.  Everyone else?  Well, it's hard to say how much an uninitiated viewer will enjoy The FP; my expectation is very little.

The film is as much an homage to the aforementioned titles as it is a parody, although the jokes are often muted by the treatment of The FP's world (that's Frazier Park, yo!) as utterly real, even as the characters are (over)burdened by cartoon-ish dialogue and behaviors.  There are some truly funny moments scattered throughout the film but one has to be patient and willing to suspend disbelief in order to enjoy them.  We're not talking about a work of cinematic art here; this is a faux gang picture set in a preposterous ghetto populated by warriors who settle their arguments with tournaments of "Beat-Beat Revelation," a knock-off of the once popular dance video game "Dance Dance Revolution."

Look for plot references to popular 80s films like the sequels to Rocky (specifically Rocky IV--there's a death to be avenged in an ultimate BBR match) and The Karate Kid as well as from lesser films of the decade.  The FP owes a special debt to a particular flavor of dubious cinema, inspiring lines of dialogue as vapid as, "we roll together, we die together," a phrase exchanged several times during the film. 

For a film that's just over 80 minutes in length, The FP feels much longer.   Based on a short film from 2007, it suffers from more than a small amount of filler to reach that expanded running time.  Clearly, the Trost Bros. love the films they're lampooning in The FP.  The question is: does anyone else adore those films enough to endure a full-length movie that attempts to insert itself into the pantheon of good/bad cinema.

The FP opens at the Hollywood Theatre on Friday, March 16th.  More info available here.  


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FADED: GIRLS + BINGE DRINKING

Janet McIntyre's latest film Faded might be the saddest locally-produced documentary in recent memory.  It also feels terribly important, shedding light on a serious social problem in a complex yet approachable way.  Sporting the subtitle Girls + Binge Drinking, the accessibility of the piece is a large part of its success, offering hope that it can be used as a pedagogical tool for opening up conversations with the very demographic that it documents.

Faded takes a long, sobering look at four young women, ranging in age from their late teen years to their early twenties, long after they've established unhealthy patterns around alcohol consumption.

Cassidy, a young artistically-driven girl, tells McIntyre that she began drinking at age 13 in the company of her overly permissive parents.  Sharon, an Indonesian immigrant whose family relocated to Oregon when she was 15, blames the unwelcome move for her descent into alcoholism and temporary homelessness.  Alyssa, a high-school student living with her father, pinpoints her mom's desertion of her as one reason why she drinks.  And Holley, a former member of Portland's Rose City Rollers, speaks of the social and media-driven pressures that women experience, casting those forces (as well as the pain experienced during roller derby matches) as justifications for her excesses.

At first, McIntyre allows her subjects the momentary luxury of offering up their reasons before having those defenses contextualized as mere rationalization by Jonathan Lurie, a clinical psychologist specializing in adolescent psychology.  From that point on, Faded rejects any arguments the girls offer up for their sustained abuse, choosing instead to watch as their lives unfold, some making better choices while others continue to drink.

In many ways, Faded reminds one of Lauren Greenfield's exceptionally important and disturbing documentary, Thin, a movie about eating disorders that's hard to shake off, even years after seeing it.  McIntyre's film at least offers more hope for some of its subjects than that 2006 film.  And yet, it's the wider view offered up by Faded that chills the most; the statistical information and cultural attitudes (the latter offered up via a panoply of quotes derived from art, literature and celebrities) cited confirm that there's more than a kernel of truth to Holley's claim that the culture demands more than what actual girls can deliver, who suffer the worst indignities when either buying into those roles or choosing to check out via the route of self-abuse.

Faded is not the easiest film to watch.  McIntyre amply displays how each girl's potential has been either sabotaged or delayed by their self-destructive impulses.  But, as a piece aimed towards spreading awareness on a seldom-broached topic, its value is immediately felt.

Faded: Girls + Binge Drinking will screen at the NW Film Center's Whitsell Auditorium (in the Portland Art Museum) on March 15th at 7pm.



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