manoel de oliveira Tagged Articles at Cinematical

Manoel de Oliveira's Belle Toujours is back on the charts this week, playing on one lone screen, in Denver, according to my information. Among its other qualities and achievements, it marks the fourth collaboration of director Oliveira and actor Michel Piccoli (a fifth, a short segment in an anthology film, appeared earlier this year). At 81, Piccoli is practically a living legend, having worked with Alfred Hitchcock, Luis Buñuel, Jean-Luc Godard, Jacques Rivette, Louis Malle, Mario Bava, and many other greats. He also appears in Jean-Pierre Melville's 1962 Le Doulos, currently re-released on 2 screens. It's a delicate relationship between director and actor; Piccoli and Oliveira seem to be developing a comfortable working relationship in which each brings out the best in the other. This has happened relatively few times over the past century. When it happens, it can be very exciting, but when a director and an actor don't click, everything can fall to pieces.

Milos Forman has coaxed and guided some great performances over the years, notably Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Tom Hulce and F. Murray Abraham in Amadeus and Jim Carrey in Man on the Moon. But he has rarely been praised for directing women, as evidenced by his awkward handling of Natalie Portman in the awful Goya's Ghosts (37 screens). The movie earned advance attention for its nude/sex scene, but will probably be remembered for fitting Portman with a set of humorously bad fake teeth and for her self-consciously dazed walk, newly released from prison, through a chaotic town square. Forman may be to blame, but Portman is out there, on the screen, all alone and in front of everyone.

The Portuguese director Manoel de Oliveira, 98 years old as of this writing, is a walking bit of cinema history. Born in Oporto (where they make port wine) he reportedly worked on a film as early as 1928 and made his official directorial debut in 1931 with a short documentary, Working on the Douro River. Even though Hollywood had implemented sound by then, many other countries had not. And so Oliveira carries the distinction of being not only the oldest movie director still active, but also the only movie director to have begun in the silent era. In Europe, he's considered a master, with several films already in the canon. Despite all this, only two of Oliveira's films have received any kind of regular distribution in the United States, I'm Going Home (2002), which I consider a masterpiece, and the slightly more problematic, but still excellent A Talking Picture (2004). A third, Belle Toujours, opened briefly this summer in New York but has already gone.

Oliveira has made the majority of his films -- more than thirty of them -- since 1979, when he was already past seventy. Because of this, his films tend to be patient and contemplative, or to Western audiences, just plain "slow." He's like an old man driving a car in front of you; perhaps he's keeping us from getting to our destination faster, but if we could only see things from his point of view, maybe we could enjoy the drive a little more. He's learned how to really stop and appreciate things and he has pretty much earned the right to make any movie he feels like making. So he sets his sights on a sort of sequel to Luis Bunuel's Belle de Jour (1967), which, in other hands, would have been a travesty. And though it reunites two of the main characters from that masterpiece, it actually turns out to be more of a tribute or an epilogue than a sequel.

By the time you read this I will be in Portugal, and so it seemed appropriate that I should take a moment to talk about Portugal's greatest cinematic export, film director Manoel de Oliveira. Oliveira holds a curious record: he's the oldest living film director, and the only living film director to have worked in the silent era. His first film, Working on the Douro River, was an 18-minute documentary made in 1931. Hollywood had converted to sound by then, but many other countries were still silent. (Reportedly, he worked as an extra in a film as early as 1928.)

Currently, Oliveira is 97 years old and has a new movie out, Belle Toujours (additionally, he has finished one other and is in production on two more). I haven't seen Belle Toujours yet; it opened in June in New York and appeared like a blip on the box office chart. It's a sequel of sorts to Luis Bunuel's 1967 masterpiece Belle de Jour, with Michel Piccoli reprising his role as Henri Husson, who once helped sexually awaken the married, bored Severine (Catherine Denueve), turning her on to a life of daytime sexual depravity and mild sadomasochism. Years later, Severine (now played by Bulle Ogier, from Bunuel's The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie) meets Henri once again and the two come to terms with their bizarre past.

There's a long-term project called Invisíveis, Os that looks like it's one step closer to a real release. There's been word on the film on international sites for a few years, and now IMDb says that the movie is currently in production, and should be released in Brazil in 2008. Unfortunately, my local tri-linguist is out of reach, and I'm at the mercy of the whims of Google Translate for this background, so please bear with me. The project comes from an idea by TV presenter Sérgio Groisman, and features one hell of an international line-up of directors contributing shorts -- Guy Maddin (Brand Upon the Brain!), Fernando E. Solanas (La Nube), Polish actor/writer/director Jerzy Stuhr, Leon Cakoff (Welcome to São Paulo), Golden Globe winner and 97-year-old director Manoel de Oliveira and Brazilian director Evaldo Mocarzel.

Some of the projects have already been screened elsewhere. The shorts include Morcarzel's 14-minute film, The Invisible Master, which features Iranian director Abbas Kiarostami, and another by de Oliveira that features two friends trying to communicate on cell phones. As for the others, I imagine that they're currently filming. Over on the Brand blogs, there's an interview up with Maddin that says he's working on a new TV doc about Winnipeg, his Canadian hometown, but there's no word about his short for this film collection -- either he's already filmed it, he doesn't want to talk about it or perhaps he's going to offer one of his previous shorts. If you haven't seen any of his, go here, where you can see some of his more recent, wacky and wonderful endeavors. Hopefully we'll have more word on the whole project soon. 2008 isn't too far away.

Earlier this month, I posted about a secret film debuting at the Cannes Film Festival. All that was known at the time was that it would be a compilation of 30 shorts, each about three minutes long and directed by an internationally respected filmmaker, and that it wouldn't be shown to the public. Now, thanks to an official press release, we learn that there are in fact 33 shorts from 35 filmmakers (including two pairs of brothers) and that the film, titled To Each his Own Cinema, will air on French television on May 20 following its premiere at the festival. So now I don't have to wish I could attend Cannes; I have to wish I got Canal +.

Also revealed are the names of the 35 participants, all of whom were supposed to be kept secret until the film's unveiling, and a few details about the project. Each director was assigned the task of filming, "their current state of mind as inspired by the motion-picture theater." The only individual specifics mentioned in the press release, which was written by festival head Giles Jacob, are that Wim Wenders shot in the Congo, Tsai Ming Liang shot in Kuala Lumpur and David Cronenberg shot "in the ... toilet!" (probably meaning the bathroom, not the bowl). But anyone familiar with the directors involved can imagine the kind of diversity that will be seen in the film.

See the names of the 35 collaborators after the jump.

For its 60th year anniversary, the Cannes Film Festival will premiere new films from many past winners of the Palme d'Or. It isn't known how many of these winners will have new material this year, but apparently festival president Gilles Jacob and artistic director Thierry Frémaux tried to get many of the living "Golden Palm" vets -- winners and nominees, both -- to contribute to a special project.

Each participating filmmaker has directed a short film of 2-3 minutes in length that will be shown together as a feature-length film at a gala event on May 20. Variety reports that those known to be included are Ken Loach ('06: The Wind That Shakes the Barley), Gus Van Sant ('03: Elephant), Lars von Trier ('00: Dancer in the Dark), Theodoros Angelopoulos ('98: Eternity and a Day), Abbas Kiarostami ('97: Taste of Cherry), Chen Kaige ('93: Farewell My Concubine), Wim Wenders ('84: Paris, Texas) and non-winners (though often-nominated) Wong Kar-Wai, Michael Cimino, Amos Gitai, Manoel de Oliveira, Hou Hsiao-hsien and Tsai Ming-liang. There are 30 shorts in all, so obviously a lot of other contributors are as yet unknown. Only Pedro Almodóvar (also a non-winner, and never a nominee) is known to have declined the offer.

I've been reading a lot of chatter on films screening at the Toronto International Film Festival and, before I started reading said chatter, I chattered about it with a Toronto resident/attendee, in order to gain a better understanding of what was being shown this year, as well to guide my friend into seeing and reporting on films that particularly interest me.

Though I can't say I recommend seeing it, I was quite intrigued to read an article regarding Manoel de Oliveira's sequel to Bunuel's Belle de Jour, titled Belle Toujours (Beautiful Every Day). At first, I thought, does this movie actually exist? How come nobody's mentioned it? Actually, Oliveira himself has mentioned it - he wrote his own summary of the film on IMDb. For those interested, it premieres in Toronto on September 13, and then again on the 15th.

Basically, the film revisits the life of one of Severine's friends, Henri (Deneuve is no longer Severine, but Henri is played, again, by Michel Piccoli, who has aged into a kind of soft, grandfatherly-looking sadist). In the original, Henri relentlessly stalked Severine -- looking to consummate some adulterous rendevous, until he discovered her secret life as a whore. Years later, Henri runs into Severine by chance at a Dvorak concert, and the pursuit begins anew. I'm intrigued to know the purpose of this pursuit, as I always thought he gave up on her in Belle de Jour because the power he'd hold over her is the power to reveal her secret. But it's been a while since I've seen the original.