last year at marienbad

Last Year at Marienbad
d. Alain Resnais, 1961

Though more a film that I admire than one I actively enjoy, Alain Resnais' Last Year at Marienbad is clearly a masterful work. If for no better reason, everyone should watch this film for its astounding beauty; Resnais' camera glides through the corridors and gardens of a large hotel, where his story takes place, and his black-and-white photography is some of the best I've seen. Delphine Seyrig (who, 14 years later, would play the title role in Chantal Akerman's Jeanne Dielman) stars as A, a woman who must deal with the constant bickering of X (Giorgio Albertazzi), a stranger trying to convince her that they met last year. The film's dialogue and compositions serve as a way for Resnais to explore his recurring themes: memory, time, what it means to be human. I've seen Marienbad twice now, and I'm no closer to deciphering its many mysteries (if they can even be deciphered, that is) than when I first came to it. Yet, I feel as though it's a film that I can always come back to, just to remind myself of cinema's possibilities. Plus, did I mention how beautiful it is to look at?

the lady from shanghai

The Lady from Shanghai
d. Orson Welles, 1947

The Lady from Shanghai may not be Orson Welles' best movie (that, to me, would be F for Fake [1976]), but it's just further proof that the man was just so good at making movies. Parts of the film didn't make sense to me on a first viewing, and sometimes the plot seems almost incidental, but Welles' compositions are at their most playful here. Needless to say, Welles and Rita Hayworth are both incredible here, and the supporting cast (which includes Everett Sloane as Hayworth's husband) is almost as impressive. Hayworth gets first billing here, but it's most certainly Welles' film. Not only did he write, direct, produce, and act in it, but he narrates the story to us; sometimes the way the character of Michael O'Hara speaks sounds more like Orson himself than just another character in one of movies.

kicking and screaming

Kicking and Screaming
d. Noah Baumbach, 1995

Noah Baumbach's wonderful first feature, Kicking and Screaming, holds a distinct place amoungs other independent films from the 90s. It does share certain qualities with movies like Richard Linklater's Slacker and Before Sunrise, but Baumbach seems to be shooting at something completely different. His film centers around the lives of a couple of 20-somethings who can't seem to figure what to do after graduation. One of them, Otis (Charles Jacott), won't leave for graduate school in Milwaukee because of the one hour time difference. Grover (Josh Hamilton) spends his time in a sort of paralysis after his girlfriend Jane (Olivia d'Abo) leaves for Prague. Max (Chris Eigeman, aka Jason Stiles of Gilmore Girls) plays a philosophy major who passes the time doing crosswords and talking about living.

What Baumbach manages to craft out of his conversational passages is a poignant and charming account of the nostalgia of leaving school; the kind of sad reminisces of things one would have complained about as they were happening. Though Baumbach's writing is likely to get the most credit here (or in his most recent film, The Squid and the Whale, for that matter), he is quite a good director. His long tracking shots -- particularly impressive in a scene with Grover and his dad (played by Elliot Gould) -- and fluid camera movement recalls directors like Robert Altman, Woody Allen (who is probably more of an influence on Baumbach's writing), and even Truffaut. In short, this is a vastly underrated film that is not to be missed.

P.S. Is it bad that I kind of feel the same as the the characters in Kicking and Screaming? I'm 16 (as of tomorrow) and junior year of high school just started, so probably.