by Sam Juliano
As the dog days of August wear on, the action at WitD remains hot and heavy. Last week’s Monday Morning Diary attracted over 80 comments, the ‘Best Opera Films’ gained over 40, and Tony d’Ambra’s exquisite Noir City Blues nailed almost 30. Meanwhile Joel Bocko’s Boston Examiner link-overs continued with his stellar treatment of Lawrence of Arabia.
The biggest news of all, of course, was the unveiling of the the Godfather films – “as predictable as the sun rising” as Allan said – as the top films of the 1970s after our 2 month long poll. The 1980s poll has already begun and ballots are already starting to trickle through on the new thread in the usual place over the site header.
I saw three contemporary films in theatres, and two British films as part of the BritNoir series at the FilmForum
Bliss (Turkish) ** Friday Night (Cinema village)
Beeswax **½ (Saturday Night; Film Forum)
Julie and Julia ***½ (Saturday afternoon: Edgewater Multiplex)
The Third Man ***** (Sunday Night; FilmForum)
Seven Days to Noon ***½ (Sunday Night; Film Forum)
Bliss was a disjointed, convoluted morality tale that has traditional and contemporary mores clash in Turkey. Jon Lanthier called it “a train wreck of a movie“. I couldn’t agree more.
Beeswax is one of the movies where idle banter is supposed to forge some kind of profound world view, but it’s grating, empty and too self-assured. The director was there to field questions at the Forum, and the discussion was better than the film, though I didn’t stay to the end.
Julie and Julia boasted another impressive turn from Meryl Streep as the iconic culinary figure, and Amy Adams and Stanley Tucci were fine, too. Lightweight, but engaging and entertaining.
The Third Man, which opened the BritNoir Festival and was a sell-out, again was a stunning example of how the greatest films never lose their sheen. Put simply, it’s my favourite British film of all-time.
Seven Days to Noon was fun, but nowhere near the level of the Boultings’ Brighton Rock, which will appear later in the Festival. I plan on going in the coming week to see the rare 1938 noir, They Drive by Night by the ill-fated Arthur Woods, at Allan’s urging, while he’s also urging me to see the most pivotal British noir NOT screened at the festival, Alberto Cavalcanti’s They Made Me a Fugitive, at home.
Anyway, let’s hear about everyone else’s forays into movie-watching, theatre-going, music-listening and book-reading.
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