Showing posts with label Jenny Runacre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jenny Runacre. Show all posts

Monday, 30 December 2019

Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think… The Canterbury Tales (1972), BFI Trilogy of Life Box Set


This year I visited Canterbury for the first time, a pilgrimage as much for Powell and Pressburger as the Cathedral or Chaucer but it’s impossible, as The Archers suggested, to separate the latter two elements of this historic city. Pier Paolo Pasolini was drawn to Geoffrey Chaucer’s most English of tales as part of his exploration of early literature, having just filmed The Decameron (1971) based on the tales of 14th-century Italian author Giovanni Boccaccio. The director was fascinated by the relationship of the medieval mindset to contemporary society and duly completed his “trilogy of life” with The Thousand and One Nights (1974). All three are now presented in crisp restoration on this BFI three-disc Blu-ray set together with all the trimmings you’d expect and they still startle.

Watching The Canterbury Tales you see an alarmingly frank approach to sexuality and human nature that Pasolini wanted to unsettle his complacently civilized audience; we may dress well, drive expensive cars and live longer but we don’t live that differently. These tales of bawdy romance, cuckolded husbands, murderers and thieves still represent humanity in the raw, creatures of desire and cunning.

Them and us
The director appears as Chaucer in the film, writing down his tales in response to the events around him which are “told only for the pleasure of telling them”; his own phrase and not Chaucer’s. He presents the tales for his audience to interpret and to make their own judgements which will inevitably ensnare the unwary.

 
First up is The Merchant's Tale in which an elderly merchant Sir January (Hugh Griffith looking like the most febrile of old farts) marries a beautiful young woman called May (Josephine Chaplin, daughter of Charlie and sister of Geraldine). The old fella goes blind and May eventually arranges a tryst with a man of her age… the gods intervene and Pluto (Giuseppe Arrigio) restores his sight, Prosperine (Elisabetta Genovese) gives May the voice with which to talk her self out of the compromising situation his newly opened eyes reveal.

Josephine Chaplin and Hugh Griffith
And the moral of this story is? Good on May for her quick thinking and for grabbing what happiness the need to marry money has robbed her? The Tales may have the look and feel of censor-free 70s sex-comedies but there’s a robust honesty drawing our sympathy.

So too with The Bishop’s Tale in which a man (Franco Citti) is rewarded for spying on homosexual acts. The richer of the two men caught in flagrante delicto buys his way out but the poorer – who was with a very young Phil Davies – has not the money. He is burned at a public execution where the peeping Tom sells refreshments as the public awaits the entertainment… This is very much from the heart for Pasolini and the man later reveals himself as the Devil, highly mobile if not omnipotent as Peter Cook said.

There’s a full-blooded humour to the tales, even in their darkest moments, and so, in addition to an actual Chaplin, we even get a Chaplin-esque Perkin (Ninetto Davoli, who featured so much in Pasolini’s life and films) in The Cook’s Tale; a cheeky clown who just about gets away with everything but for whom the stocks await. He’ll even take the rotting food with a smile, knowing he’ll live again to gamble, cheat and otherwise cock a snook…

Tom Baker gets ready for his Bath
There’s also a ton of British talent in this film and if you really don’t want to see the mighty Tom Baker playing the Wife of Bath’s fifth husband then I can only pity you. There’s also Jenny Runacre, one of the most distinctive screen presences in British cinema, as Alison the wife of John the Carpenter played by Michael Balfour who has one of the most rustic and “lived-in” faces of all time; Pasolini cast for character as well as looks and the film is rich in details of both.

Robin Asquith interviewed here about his experience with Pasolini on The Canterbury Tales (1972) is an amusing raconteur and not quite what you’d expect; he’s from Southport and attended Merchant Taylors in Crosby before Bristol University. So, what we get is a kind of Confessions of a Chaucerian Scholar as well as an actor known for his parts as well as his, erm, parts.

The ageless Mr Asquith
He may seem atypical casting for the esteemed Italian but, Robin knew his stuff both as an actor and film maker and he was already versed in Italian cinema having worked with Franco Zeffirelli and been an admirer of Theorem and other Pasolini films. At his casting interview for Canterbury Tales, Pier Paolo said that he looked like a man who used his penis a lot whereupon Robin dropped his trousers to show his manhood and ask if he still thought so? From that point the two became friends and the result included a strong performance from Asquith as Rufus in The Pardoner's Tale which featured a surprise shower for some of the unexpectant extras below.

Rufus is one of many casualties in a film that shows how fleeting life is and how we should take what comfort we can from its living. The closing sequence shows a Hell that would almost make Derek Jarman blush as the hypocrites and the pompous get their just deserts. The camera cuts to Pasolini/Chaucer smiling as he contemplates his closing arguments.

The box set is now available from the BFI’s shop – on and off-line – and is essential viewing for all followers of the director’s and, indeed, Robin Asquith’s work!



Thursday, 27 December 2018

And I ride and I ride... The Passenger (1975), BFI re-release in cinemas from 4th January



"Can I ask you a question, only one, always the same; what are you running away from?"

Michelangelo Antonioni is coming to London in January and February with the BFI screening many of his films including his magnificent run in the sixties: L’Avventura, La Notte, L’Eclisse, Red Desert and Blow Up. I’m also looking forward to seeing 1970’s Zabriskie Point on the big screen – Pink Floyd and explosions are the perfect mix - even though many commentators have seen that as the beginning of his lower quality output. I’d disagree about that film, which is flawed yet still powerful as I would about the director’s next feature in 1975.

The Passenger is a film about identity, coincidence and, possibly, fate. The lead character is a passenger in someone else's life, as he has been with those he has interviewed in his career as a journalist. He's on the run from his own life but is that because he knows his end is both inevitable and imminent?

Meeting at Casa Milà
Beautifully photographed by Luciano Tovi, The Passenger begins in Algiers and takes in London, Munich, Barcelona and southern Spain on its relentless journey. It packs in a huge amount of locations and some amazing buildings including Gaudi's brilliant Casa Milà and, needless to say, it looks absolutely fabulous on screen – so much more splendid than on home media.

Jack Nichoson is David Locke, a documentary film maker, who takes advantage of the death of a man staying in the same hotel. For reasons we spend the rest of the film trying to fathom, Locke assumes the man's identity and passes off his death as his own. The man, Robertson, turns out to be a gunrunner, supplying arms to one of the factions in the Chad civil war. He leaves behind a diary of meetings that Locke then proceeds to try and fulfil, perhaps driven by some sympakthy with their cause.

He is also spurred on by the investigations of former colleague Knight (Ian Hendry) and his estranged wife, a coolly-detached Jenny Runacre (another 70's icon). Along the way Locke meets an un-named architectural student, played by the magnetic Maria Schneider, simply excellent here as an almost non-actorly actor, natural, very responsive and enigmatic - a perfect match for Jack.

Jack
Nicholson gives a performance of intelligence and world-weary complexity. He compliments Antonioni's style perfectly with dryly humorous inventions highlighting the necessary intensity of this conflicted character. Antonioni was impressed with Easy Rider and the related American "new wave" and it's easy to see why he wanted one of the leaders of that generation in this film, a continuation of his counter-cultural examinations in Zabriskie Point.

There is one horrific sequence where Antonioni appears to use film of an actual execution. Watching the film I once again hoped that it wasn't real, but, if it was, you have to question the validity of this injection of actuality even at this distance. The writer, Mark Peploe, has said he found this sequence upsetting although he recognised the need to reflect reality. Whatever the moral and artistic merits, the film is based on these realities and the Chad conflict in question ran for some 40 years.

All at sea
Locke and the girl keep meeting appointments but the insurgents do not make them. By now the police are on their trail and there's a growing sense of impending doom.

The film ends with one of the most stunning single takes I've ever seen. In one amazing shot, lasting over seven minutes, the camera takes a slow and steady journey from Locke's hotel room out towards the chaos in the street and back to the same room as the characters catch up with each other and the story ends. It took a week to film and is a technical tour de force. A supernaturally quiet and understated ending that highlights the loneliness of death... the casual, matter-of-factness of the inevitable end.

It's a film you have to study carefully as Antonioni takes us through at his own pace, we have to experience his story at the rate he dictates. He needs our patience.


When The Girl asks what he is running from, sat in the back of Locke's car as they drive south through the country roads, he replies, "turn your back to the front seat...". She swivels around, throws out her arms, flings her head back and beams as the open road recedes behind them. It's a great moment and says so much about the film and the lives we all live. Maria is completely in the now, eyes bright and just taking in the full glory of the moment as they pass through a beautiful avenue of sunlit trees... then her face changes slightly as she understands beyond the initial thrill of illusory freedom.

The Passenger screens from 4th January at the BFI and across the UK - details are on the BFI site.
It's definitely one to see on the big screen!

So let's take a ride and see what's mine...

Saturday, 8 October 2011

Identity, crisis and coincidence... The Passenger (1975)



"Can I ask you a question, only one, always the
same; what are you running away from?"

Michelangelo Antonioni's The Passenger is a film about identity, coincidence and, possibly, fate. The lead character is a passenger in someone else's life, as he has been with those he has interviewed in his career as a journalist. He's on the run from his own life but is that because he knows his end is both inevitable and imminent?

Beautifully photographed by Luciano Tovi, The Passenger begins in Algiers and takes in London, Munich, Barcelona and southern Spain on its relentless journey. It packs in a huge amount of locations and some amazing buildings including Gaudi's brilliant Casa Milà.

Jack Nichoson is David Locke, a documentary film maker, who takes advantage of the death of a man staying in the same hotel. For reasons we spend the rest of the film trying to fathom, Locke assumes the man's identity and passes off his death as his own. The man, Robertson, turns out to be a gunrunner, supplying arms to one of the factions in the Chad civil war. He leaves behind a diary of meetings that Locke then proceeds to try and fulfil, perhaps driven by some sympathy with their cause.

He is also spurred on by the investigations of former colleague Knight (Ian Hendry excellently-edgy as always) and his estranged wife, portrayed with cool detachment by Jenny Runacre (another 70's icon). Along the way Locke meets an un-named architectural student, played by the magnetic Maria Schneider, simply excellent here as an almost non-actorly actor, natural, very responsive and enigmatic - a perfect match for Jack.

Nicholson gives a memorable performance of intelligence and world-weary complexity. He compliments Antonioni's style perfectly with dryly humorous inventions highlighting the necessary intensity of this conflicted and confused character. Antonioni was impressed with Easy Rider and the related American "new wave" and it's easy to see why he wanted one of the leaders of that generation in this film, a more successful and interesting continuation of his counter-cultural examinations in Zabriskie Point.

There is one horrific sequence where Antonioni uses film of an actual execution. This is deliberately designed to disturb and watching the film for the first time one hoped that it wasn't real. But it was and you have to question the validity of this injection of actuality even at this distance. In the DVD commentary the writer, Mark Peploe, is audibly still upset by this scene.

Whatever the moral and artistic merits, the film is based on these realities and the Chad conflict in question ran for some 40 years. As Peploe says these things happened and are still happening.

Locke and the girl keep meeting appointments but the insurgents do not make them. By now the police are on their trail and there's a growing sense of impending doom.

The film ends with one of the most stunning single takes I've ever seen. In one amazing shot, lasting over six minutes, the camera takes a slow and steady journey from Locke's hotel room out towards the chaos in the street and back to the same room as the characters catch up with each other and the story ends. It took a week to film and is a technical tour de force. A supernaturally quiet and understated ending that highlights the loneliness of death... the casual, matter-of-factness of the inevitable end.

It's a film you have to study carefully as Antonioni takes us through at his own pace, we have to experience his story at the rate he dictates. He needs our patience.

When The Girl asks her singular question sat in the back of Locke's car as they drive south through the country roads, he replies, "Turn your back to the front seat...". She swivels around, throws out her arms, flings her head back and beams as the open road recedes behind them.

It's a great moment and says so much about the film and the lives we all live. Maria is completely in the now, eyes bright and just taking in the full glory of the moment as they pass through a beautiful avenue of sunlit trees...
"

The Passenger is available at a very reasonable price from Amazon. Great commentary from Jack also included!