Here’s the third part of my series of thumbnail sketches of the films I’ve watched on the Criterion Channel streaming service. These 10 films were viewed during mid-October 2021.
Big Joys, Small Sorrows (1986): Japanese director Keisuke Kinoshita was a household name in Japan, although relatively unknown internationally. Big Joys, Small Sorrows is a remake of his own 1957 nostalgia-driven crowd-pleaser, Times of Joy and Sorrow, which chronicles the life of a lighthouse keeper from the Japanese Maritime Safety Agency, as his job takes him to different picturesque locations over a 25-year period. I immensely enjoyed this heartwarming story, particularly the relationship between the lighthouse keeper Yoshiaki Fujita (played by the charismatic Gō Katō) and his father (Hitoshi Ueki won Best Supporting Actor for the role), and also the dynamic between Yoshiaki and his wife Asako (played by Reiko Ohara). In addition to its entertainment value, it is an incredibly effective ad film for Japanese domestic tourism, featuring multiple lighthouses and temples in some of the most scenic spots in the country. For those who love such nostalgia-based dramas, it’s worth checking out another one of Kinoshita-san’s best-known films, Twenty-Four Eyes (1954), the moving story of a school teacher in a small village, and her relationship over two decades with the twelve students (hence, twenty-four eyes) from her first class.
The Rocket from Calabuch (1956): I confess, I had never heard of director Luis Garcia Berlanga until I came across his films while casually browsing through the Criterion movie list. I learned that Berlanga was a master of sly social satire, adept at spotlighting the foibles of ordinary people. In The Rocket from Calabuch, a famous international nuclear scientist, Prof. Hamilton, mysteriously disappears from the public eye; he has had enough of the Cold War media circus and has decided to take time off from his military and political handlers. He emerges in the coastal village of Calabuch and takes on the persona of a somewhat addle-brained, but good-natured old man. The villagers welcome him into their fold, whereupon his sagacity has a subtle and calming impact on various fractious relationships. I find stories of this sort to be quite entertaining; they use the narrative device of an outsider in a remote community, to showcase both the good (love, kindness) and the bad (vanity, greed) in humanity. Several Johnny Depp movies – Chocolat, Sleepy Hollow, Edward Scissorhands – as well as little-known gems like The Englishman who Went up a Hill but Came down a Mountain (1995) and The Grand Seduction (2013), fall into this category.
¡Bienvenido, Mister Marshall!/Welcome, Mr. Marshall! (1953): As a follow-up, I opted for Berlanga’s feature film debut, which was a bit hit at Cannes and heralded him as one of the new generation of Spanish directors. Co-written by Juan Antonio Bardem (Javier Bardem’s uncle), Welcome, Mr. Marshall! satirizes the fascination of Spaniards for all things American in the years following the Second World War. The mayor of a small Spanish town is informed of an upcoming visit by American diplomats to the region. The townspeople work themselves up into a state, dreaming of the economic benefits that are sure to be showered upon them if they suitably impress the Americans (the movie title references the Marshall Plan, a US economic program to rebuild Western Europe from 1948-52). They decide to pull out all the stops and set about preparing a grand welcome for the delegation. Needless to say, things don’t go as planned. The plot gives the filmmakers plenty of opportunities to poke light-hearted fun at the quintessential human shortcomings of avarice and egotism. The characters played by veteran actors José Isbert (the mayor) and Manolo Morán (a scheming agent) best exemplify these traits. I certainly intend to watch the other Berlanga films which are considered classics of Spanish post-war cinema, such as The Executioner (1963) and Plácido (1961).
Karami-ai/The Inheritance (1962): Japanese director Masaki Kobayashi emerged as one of the great humanist directors of world cinema during 1958-61 with his brutal anti-war trilogy, The Human Condition (combined running time of 10 hours), starring acting legend Tatsuya Nakadai. Kobayashi’s follow-up effort was The Inheritance, which again featured Nakadai, this time playing the associate of a dying businessman, who asks his advisors to track down his three illegitimate children, so that they may inherit his wealth. Nakadai’s character and the other advisors, come up with various plans to take control of the fortune. Meanwhile, the businessman’s secretary, Yasuko (played by Keiko Kishi), has quietly emerged as his confidante. Who among them will end up with the inheritance? Although none of the characters are particularly likable, the film’s strength lies in keeping the viewer intrigued about the fate of the various schemes and schemers.
Kwaidan (1964): Two years after The Inheritance, Kobayashi-san came up with another magnum opus, the three-hour-long anthology film, Kwaidan, comprising four different ghost stories, drawn from 19th century Greek writer Lafcadio Hearn’s collection of Japanese folk tales. It was Kobayashi’s first colour film and he makes full use of the added visual dimension, with stunning production design, makeup, visual effects, and cinematography. No wonder Kwaidan received an Oscar nomination for Best Foreign Film and a Special Jury Prize at Cannes. Guillermo del Toro calls it one of the most perfect films, artistically, that he has seen. Of the four stories, my favourite was Hoichi the Earless (some DVD covers feature a shot from this segment), while the first story, The Black Hair, has some genuine horror beats. This is a “must-see” film for any fan of international cinema and visual arts. Think of it as an artistic and much superior version of Twilight Zone: The Movie.
Khane-ye dust kojast/Where is the Friend’s Home? (1987): Iranian filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami was a giant of world cinema with a repertoire of acclaimed documentaries, feature films, and short films. Where is the Friend’s Home? is the first of the so-called Koker trilogy, named after the village in northern Iran where the 3 films are set. The protagonist is 10-year-old Ahmad, who comes home from school one day and discovers he has mistakenly brought back with him a classmate’s homework book. Since the work is due the next day and the classmate, Mohammed Reza, is on his last warning for having previously failed to submit assignments properly, the conscientious Ahmad sets out to return the book. For me, the heart of the film lies in Ahmad’s innocence and simple acceptance of life’s realities, such as the fact that his presence as a thinking, responsible individual is barely acknowledged by the adults around him. What a contrast this is to many modern urban societies, in which children are very much the center of attention. The synopses for the other two films in the Koker trilogy indicate they are essentially documentaries revisiting the location and the people from the first film. This blurring of boundaries between reality and fiction has been a recurring theme of Kiarostami’s work.
Ta’m-e gīlās…/Taste of Cherry (1997): I followed up straightaway with another Kiarostami award-winner, this one far more sombre and morbid than the previous film. The narrative kicks off in media res with a middle-aged man named Badii, driving around in his car, and randomly asking people if they could get in so that he can tell them about a task he would like them to do, for which he’s willing to pay a sizeable sum of money. This strange request elicits a range of reactions from suspicion to curiosity to outright rejection. Those who do get into the car and hear what Badii has in mind, are taken aback and unwilling to comply; in fact, they try to talk him out of his plan, which I won’t reveal here. Suffice to say, the core of the film lies in these conversations between Badii and his passengers, which center on the meaning of life. Each passenger naturally approaches the topic based on their intellectual capacity, education, and life experiences. Taste of Cherry made history as the first Iranian film to win the Palm d’Or at Cannes.
The Way West (1967): Since October was a feature month for Kirk Douglas on Criterion, I watched a number of his films, the first of which was this star-packed Western, featuring Douglas, Robert Mitchum, Richard Widmark, and 20-year-old Sally Field in her first film role. Douglas plays US Senator William Tadlock, who hires a veteran guide (played by Mitchum) to lead a wagon train of settlers to Oregon. Widmark plays a headstrong settler who resents Senator Tadlock’s heavy-handed leadership style. There’s plenty of testosterone here to keep the movie chugging along, with the plot involving infighting, altercations with Native Americans, a love triangle, and even murder. Director Andrew V. McLaglan had previously made two other successful Westerns McLintock! (with John Wayne) and Shenandoah (with James Stewart) and would go on to 30-year-career as a reliable director of formula Westerns and adventure films.
I Walk Alone (1947): Kirk Douglas and Burt Lancaster acted together in 7 films, with the first of their collaborations being this noir thriller. Noll Turner (Douglas) and Frankie Madison (Lancaster) are small-time bootleggers and best buddies. While on a liquor run, they are chased by the police, resulting in Madison getting jailed while Turner escapes and prospers into a successful nightclub owner. When Madison gets out of prison 14 years later, he goes to meet Turner, fully expecting his equal share in the business, as per their past agreement. Turner has other ideas now and tries to distract Madison with nightclub singer Kay (played by Lizbeth Scott, whose signature smoky voice made her perfect for the role of femme fatale). The two men are drawn into an inevitable battle from which only one can survive. This is a pretty formulaic film, with Douglas playing the suave bad guy, Lancaster the angry man fighting the odds, and Scott as the singer with a heart of gold. The on-screen star power and short running time of 97 minutes make it watchable, but I rank it as one of their less memorable efforts. Director Byron Haskin found his true calling in the adventure and sci-fi genre, going on to direct classics like Treasure Island (1950), The War of the Worlds (1953), and From the Earth to the Moon (1958).
Detective Story (1951): This adaptation of a stage play, chronicles the events that take place one fateful day in a New York City police station. Kirk Douglas stars as a hot-headed, self-righteous detective, Jim McLeod, who doesn’t believe in giving an inch, as he pursues the lowlifes of the city. One day, Det. McLeod’s relentless drive for justice ricochets into his personal life with fateful consequences. The screen crackles with an array of powerhouse actors, notably Eleanor Parker (Baroness Elsa in The Sound of Music) as McLeod’s wife, William Bendix as a fellow detective, Lee Grant as a first-time shoplifter, Joseph Wiseman (of Dr. No fame) as a career criminal and Horace McMahon as the head of the detective squad. With a taut running time of 103 minutes, the tension never lets up, propelled by Douglas’ on-screen intensity and a crackerjack script. Director William Wyler received his 8th Best Director Oscar nomination and there were also nominations for Lee Grant, Eleanor Parker, and the screenplay.
For reference, here are the links to films #1-10 and #11-20 in my Criterion Channel journey. Next up, #31-40, which I watched in the 2nd half of October 2021.
Chronophlogiston 
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