We had an afternoon visit from Jenn G. last week. It had been a long time, and there was some catching up to do. She had been to New York recently, and we had been to New Orleans. She is currently driving west through the US, heading towards Rossland, B.C., where she has a home she rents out. It is in need of some work, and she won't be back till mid August. In astronomy news, it has been an abysmal Spring session. There have only been two clear nights, and I have used both of them. It means getting to bed just before 3 am, which kind of messes up the next day for me. But if the skies are good, as they were, it's worth all the hassle to see the sky through the eyepiece of a 12" telescope!
There are four films we have watched recently, with at least one of them surprising us with its shocking ending. We'll begin with that one. Try and Get Me is a crime thriller from 1950, directed by Cy Enfield. Originally called Sound and Fury, it is based on real events from 1933, when a mob lynched two men who confessed to killing an heiress. Much of the blame falls upon the local newspaper, with its sensationalist reportings. Though much of the film is quite unremarkable, including the acting, the final scenes when the mob breaks into the prison seem to hit pretty hard, especially in light of the attack on Congress in January 2020. Definitely worth looking at. Based on the book by Jo Pagano, called The Condemned, written in 1947.
Before that came Beijing Watermelon, a film from 1989 by Obayashi. This one is also based on a real life story, as a Japanese owner of a small family grocery store takes a number of poor and hungry Chinese university students under his wing, offering them discounts at first. He then becomes more and more involved with them, until they begin to call him their Japanese father. As cinema goes it's not a very entrancing film, but it is a wonderful story of one man's attempt to show friendship to Chinese people. In later years he is rewarded, as they invite him to China to visit. The final part of the film breaks down the 4th wall of cinema quite neatly, as we learn that it was impossible during filming to go to China. However, the students were brought back to Japan to film the last sequences. There are many chaotic group scenes that must have taxed the director and cameraman to the limit. The family scenes (he has a wife, a son, and a daughter) are very well handled.
Those last two films were my choices for the week. Before that came Deb's two. She chose two that are leaving Criterion this month, a SF oldie and a documentary about a female artist. The Quiet Earth is a New Zealand remake of the 1959 film The World, the Flesh and The Devil. The remake is from 1985. There are differences between the two films, but they are in essence the same. The best parts of these movies is when the person is all alone at the beginning. They stay interesting when a second character is added, usually a female (Adam first, then Eve). But things often go down slippery slopes once the third person is added, always a male. In the newer film, a secret project has not only destroyed most of life on Earth, but has neatly disposed of the bodies. The very odd ending makes no sense at all, and is probably the most annoying part of the film. It is well acted, and the setting is finally away from well known major cities. With a better ending this could have been a much more effective film.
Beyond The Visible--Hilma af Klint is a documentary about a major female artist no one every heard of until recently. From 2019, the film details the life of the artist. She was a Swedish painter, trained at the art academy there, and a person interested in forming a union between spiritualism and art. A contemporary of Kandinsky, she painted hundreds of works that were mostly never exhibited, and bequeathed to a nephew. Many of them border on abstract long before Kandinsky created his version of abstract painting. They were not allowed to be sold. The nephew was rather flabbergasted, and didn't really know what to do with them. Despite the art being very good, no gallery wanted them because Klint was not in the art history books. MoMa refused to even look at them. Well, things have apparently changed. Over 2 million people saw the exhibit of her works at the Guggenheim, and finally, after decades of being ignored, the works are finding an audience. She painted enormous canvases in series', and also smaller and more intimate works. Though based on natural forms, her use of bright colour and the juxtaposition of her biomorphic forms in her pictures leave one quite astounded. A major talent finally receiving her due. She died in 1944, and was born in 1862.
Mapman Mike
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