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Gillo Pontecorvo's anticolonialism landmark is probably the most famous film that has no legitimate imitators (Z and other far more commercial political thrillers are hardly the same thing), largely because the colonial countries are the ones that finance most of the films. This lightning bolt details the Algerians struggle for independence from the French. When I say the Algerians, I'm pointing out arguably the most important aspect of the film, that it does not cop out and get us to sympathize with a few individuals amidst turbulent times. It asks you to acknowledge the ugliness of war and take either side as a whole; accept the Algerians with their hidden bombs smuggled into cafes that kill innocent people or the French with their massive technological arsenal that kills innocent people. Action and reaction seem inevitable, much like Ennio Morricone's memorable constantly recurring percussive score, which garners its unsettling effect from the delay between beats. Utilizing the same theme for each side, the score memorably heightens the sense of tragedy for both the Algerians and the French, but this is by no means the balanced work it's often been called. The French are generic interchangeable corporate pawns (are people so used to them filling the screens they don't even notice?), with only the one professional actor Col. Mathieu (Jean Martin) having any personality or individuality. Pontecorvo's provocative unsettling work is masterpiece largely because it forces you to decide whether it's worth living under someone else's oppressive rule, and prepares you for the brutal and disgusting consequences if your answer is no. He intends not only to inspire third world nations to break free from their more powerful exploiters, but to show them precisely how to do so. Scriptwriter Franco Solinas described it best when he said, "You could say that our goal was not guerilla for the sake of spectacle, but the use of spectacle to teach the guerilla." Terrorism is a start, but not a finish; the goal is to get the citizens on the side of freedom; when they band together it becomes revolution. The style is a visceral combination of neorealism, documentary, and cinema verite, shot in stark high-contrast black and white. It's based on the writings revolutionary Saadi Yacef - head of the FLN in the Casbah - made while in prison, and Yacef plays a thinly veiled version of himself. This is hardly the most enjoyable film, it won't make you feel good about war or the world, but the death of political cinema was war made into glossy, superficial, diversionary spectacle. Battle of Algiers is a disturbingly realistic, passionate, and important work that's not only the best history on the Algerian fiasco, but as true of later first world bullying as it was of past. [1/19/07] ****
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With Louis the XIV Roberto Rossellini has created the cinema of observation, honing his craft and rising above the early neorealism which was still the cinema of action. Rossellini's goal was always realism, but realism has many forms. I miss the urgency of his early works, but appreciate the seeming indifference to the audience that actually shows them far more respect. Rather than ramroding his agenda, he provides a gradual contemplative work with fine attention to detail that forces the audience to build the pieces and decisions like Legos. What Rossellini is showing here is not the usual opulence and glamour of the crown, but rather the slow step by step rise of Louis from a young man mainly concerned with amusing himself into a wise and effective ruler. Those aspects do play a large part in his ascension, as Louis regularly flaunts his appetites as a means to distract from his real intentions, to gain and maintain control by getting others to underestimate him. No event or action seems highlighted, there is no melodrama whatsoever and all the banal details and exercises of the crown are included, but this all works in favor of the audience adding up the events to come to a final sum of Louis' leadership. The period depiction and evocation is not as obvious as Rossellini's postwar masterpieces, but perhaps even more superb. Despite the time lapse, many of the real sets and locations are used, and when that isn't possible subtle photographic trickery is employed to meld the Versailles décor. The greatest accomplishment of Rise of Louis XIV is Rossellini makes you forget you are not watching a documentary of a ruler. Though its goal is not to be modern, we can see the showbiz side of leadership that's so en vogue with the king staging events and relying on style over substance. A valuable history lesson on the psychology of a legendary leader, particularly showing the importance of surrounding yourself with the right people. [6/17/07] ***1/2
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