I Know How Fully Devoted You Are: Farewell, My Queen (2012)

This set of films for the month of March is taking a decided turn toward France, but that just happens to be the result of two things, either they were immediately available to me, or as in the case of this film, something I wanted to see before entirely committing to a top ten list for 2012.  Farewell, My Queen, a film by Benoit Jacquot, of whom I am not familiar with, is certainly within the context of my month of women in film, considering that it essentially focuses on the experiences of the storming of the Bastille and the subsequent attack on the residence of Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI, however, where many films would place the narrative centrally within the experiences of either member of royalty, this particular incarnation focuses on one of the servants to Antoinette, both fresh in the take on the popular bit of period piece, as well as likely riding the coattails of Downton Abbey and other upstairs/downstairs oriented dramas.  Even if it is existing in the vacuum of this thematic approach, Farewell, My Queen is decidedly its own work and focuses quite directly on the experiences of one woman, whose navigating through the spaces of privilege, while also being detached from them, serves as a half-expose on the French aristocracy of the era and wholly evocative, intrusive piece of cinema.  Of course, what makes Farewell, My Queen such a heavily noted film from last year is not any of the aforementioned elements, but what it decides to suggest about the theory that Antoinette was engaged in lesbian activities, during her life.  While the film could have taken this idea and run amuck with it exploiting nudity and sexuality without apologies, the exceptionally introspective and pensive film actually considers the romantic evolution of such a relationship, particularly how navigating such a socially unacceptable relationship might have occurred, through shared whispers and back room intimacies.  I will not go out of my way to say that Farewell, My Queen is a great film, it is indeed quite good and well worth watching, where it does fail is simply in its overly ambitious narrative a fault that one can only be so critical of in a overall soundly created film.

Farewell, My Queen, while possessive of multiple characters, focuses primarily on Agathe (Lea Seydoux) a young woman attempting to make her own in the world while working as the appointed reader to Marie Antoinette (Diane Kruger).  In the beginning of the film, Agathe is more concerned with making her advancement within the halls of the palace, despite being blocked by older women who see her as being disrespectful and precocious.  Marie, however, seems to take a particular liking to Agathe and talks very candidly with her about her opinions about life, of course, avoiding to do so when in the presence of others.  Yet, within hours of this being depicted, the Bastille is sieged and it becomes rather clear that the palace will be destroyed and beheadings will ensue for all those with power, Louis XVI and Marie being the first names on the list.  This revelation, understandably, leads the palace into a degree of anarchy, a facade of formality is attempted, yet as workers begin quitting or turning to the aid of the peasants so too does the sanity in the palace.  In the madness of it all, Marie finds herself revealing a deeply kept secret to Agathe about a relationship she has been having with Duchess Gabrielle (Virginie Ledoyen), one with a very real sexual element.  Agathe sees it as her duty to keep Marie's secret hidden, even with the presence of evasive questions and a complete dismissal of authority information transition.  When it becomes quite evident that to stay at the palace will be to assure death, Marie is baffled to find out that Louis expects them both to remain, a concern that worsens when she is told that Gabrielle will be leaving, leading to them having a final moment of intimacy without interaction in front of the entire royal court.  In a last ditch effort to assure her safety, Gabrielle plans to have Agathe dress as her during the escape, just in case they run into hostile peasants,  all the while Gabrielle will attempt to pass as a maid.  This plan proves successful for them, however, as history tells us things were less ideal for Marie Antoinette, yet, in a final challenge to the viewer the closing dialogue is Agathe reminding everyone that the film is of her story, not that of anybody else, no matter how historically important.

The film is about a lot of things, however, whether it be navigating class issues or accepting ones sexuality, it is overly concerned with the idea of performance.  This exists perhaps most obviously in the manner with which class and prestige are performed.  The various servants of Marie are expected to act in an upright manner, even when she is being excessive and completely detached.  In fact, when Agathe scratches her itching arm it makes a huge controversy arise where Agathe's job is threatened for acting of a lower and filthy class, even though it is established that Agathe is to always be below Marie, yet she is also expected to perform as friend to her at all times, exchanging opinions about trivialities such as fabric.  Of course, sexuality is also performed to a degree, Marie, who the narrative suggests to be at the very least bisexual, must also perform heterosexuality, when in public and even when things are falling apart, the concern for saving face makes her reject her bisexuality openly, and the same thing certainly holds true for Gabrielle, although one could argue that she is engaging in a certain degree of deception.  I would even stretch this another layer further and add the possibility that Agathe is also a lesbian, although she claims to engage in every action as a direct result of her devotion to the Queen as an authority figure, however, given the state of authority at the point in which the narrative emerges, one cannot help but think that her affection extends beyond mere aristocratic hierarchy.  Then there is also the very real performance which occurs on the part of Agathe and Gabrielle where they essentially switch identities, one becoming the object of desire for Marie, while the other moves away from that realm, perhaps into the roles they were ideally intended for, one cannot say for sure, yet it is rather evident that their both exist feelings that betray the acts they have up until this point been performing.  It is a brilliant multi-layered identity narrative which will likely benefit from multiple viewings.

Key Scene:  There is a scene where Marie is removing her wig and wiping off her makeup that says so much about her letting her guard down only moments later, it is cinematic metaphor executed to an otherworldly degree.

This is a solid film, I am still not a hundred percent sold on it, as such, I would suggest renting it to see what you think.

Vanity. Vanity. All Is Vanity: Babette's Feast (1987)

The period piece is a genre that I always approach with a considerable amount of hesitance, which is a surprise considering that I absolutely adore everything about Downton Abbey and would probably come around on most any other Masterpiece theater production I undertook.  I am rather certain that a lot of my uncertainty is grounded within the very theatrical, costumed and rigid nature of the style.  My review of Anna Karenina made careful note of the manner in which the narrative styling and cinematic set-up counters the tradition of the period piece.  The Scandinavian classic Babette’s Feast is, undoubtedly, entrenched within the tradition of the period piece and is heavily influenced by a commentary on the nature of religion, making it quite similar to one of my favorite directors Carl Theodor Dreyer.  I will admit that I would never have undertaken a viewing of this movie, were it not for my research surrounding food in film, but I am more than glad to have engaged with this work, because not only is it beautifully composed, poetically written and simply cinematic, but it has opened me up to the world of period pieces done correctly and I cannot wait to engage with the genre full scale in the upcoming months.  Babette’s Feast is both an incredibly intense consideration of the role selfishness and vanity play into an individuals existence, as well as a reminder that even in the most distinct of philosophies and national barriers things like good music and beautiful music can help to unify any group.  It is also noteworthy that the film deeply considers the nature of femininity as it relates to a variety of oppressions and the rather creative manner in which many women navigated such issues and obstacles.  Yet, one of the major elements that seems to create a visually striking and unconventional film with Gabriele Axel's particular period piece, is that it is so dismissive of temporal and spatial constraints as to almost be experimental in its grandiosity, matching beautifully with its questions of religion and self-identity in a way truly and unequivocally transcendent.  Suffice to say, Babette's Feast is a cinematic revelation and yet again a remind that not all films from the 80's find themselves shrouded by the showiness of the era.

Babette's Feast, does indeed have a character named Babette (Stephane Audran) and while she certainly plays considerably into the plot, especially in its back half, she is rather irrelevant to the front portion of the narrative.  The film focuses primarily on two sisters, Martine (Birgitte Fiederspiel) and Phillippa (Bodil Kjer) whohave lived into old age within the same provincial village in Denmark.  Viewers are led to believe that they have spent much of their life locked on the island as a direct result of their father possessing them as his own, mostly as a result of his religious believes, but seemingly out of a sense of protection, especially since it appears as though their mother has long been forgotten.  The  knowledge that the father refuses to allow either to marry does not go unacknowledged, in fact, many townsfolk attempt to ignore this provocation and ask, always with failed results.  Two figures attempts factor in prominently, firstly in the haphazard and a bit goofy soldier General Lowenhielm (Jarl Kulle) who makes an offer for one of the daughters, only to be rejected leading him to spill his life into his work in the military, using his learned "piety" from the time with the daughters and their father to his advantage, even securing and economically viable, as much as it is political marriage.  The second suitor Achille Papin (Jean-Phillip LaFont) stumbles upon the family after hearing Phillipa sing at church, instantly becoming infatuated with the diva like quality of her voice.  He asks for permission of her father to train her in singing, something she initially agrees to although, when he realizes the sexual implications of such requests, he demands that Papin remove his services and return to Paris.  The narrative then flashes forward considerably and the much older Phillipa and Martine receive Babette at their doorstep, with a note explaining that she is Papin's daughter and wishes nothing more than to serve as a cook to the elderly women.  Although the women explain that they can offer no money, Babette agrees to work for free, eventually bringing the old ladies more money than before, which is, ultimately, topped off by her winning the lottery.  Babette as a gift, wishes nothing more than to cook a dinner for the parish in celebration of their late father, begging to cook a great French meal.  The sisters are hesitant, but agree to let Babette have this one wish, and she blows all of her winnings on the lavish meal, even inviting General Lowenhielm to return.  The dinner complete with rich food and drink serves as a unifier and a breaking of enforced conformity over decades of silence.  The silence is broken though, not through words, but through subtle expressions and actions.  Babette reveals that she was once a cook at a lavish French restaurant and that the sister's allowing her to enjoy her artistic past was greater than any gift imaginable and all those involved seem quick to agree.

Babette's Feast won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film the year it was entered and deservedly so, considering that if an American based society is to identify a singular film to represent the entirety of foreign cinema, Babette's Feast is certainly a deserved candidate in its transnational nature.  In fact, Babette's Feast, while very much a film about the beauty of a singular shared experience, via a feast, is also a consideration of border crossing.  This, of course, happens in very literal terms with the heavy amount of traveling done throughout the film, but can also find itself manifesting in a variety of different manners.  For example, the notion of a spiritual being crossing even invisible borders is a though professed by the sisters' father and a theme that seems prescient throughout the film.  While the characters seem to share distinctly different views of the world, they, nonetheless, seem similarly affected by a large entity, we can call it God in the context of this film, but its essence in some instances moves the villagers to sublime internal remembrance, while in other cases it causes characters to consider their entire existence, as Lowenhielm existentially considers his own vain life, perhaps serving as the main factor in his decision to return for the dinner.  Borders are also crossed in a gendered sense, although not in the performative element of somebody like Judith Butler.  Instead, gender identities are a very fixed thing, however, the roles they can perform in society seem less strict.  For example, both the sisters manage to take the place of their father as spiritual advisors for their community, and while they do not don the dress of a religious figure their status is, nonetheless, tantamount to such associations.  In a similar context, Babette's role as a cook may seem heavily domesticated and, exists in such a state up until the final feast, but with her willingness to throw caution to the wind in the French oriented menu and the revelation that she has been in charge of a restaurant certainly makes a viewer reconceptualize each gendered performance in the film, even by male figures like Papin and Lowenhielm, which become far less "masculine" in a sense.

Key Scene:  Sure the feast takes up a better third of the movie, but it is both grand and simple and serves as an extended and poetic scene and one of the best uses of food as metaphor I have seen to date.

This is a Hulu offering via the folks at Criterion.  I can only hope for a future bluray release, but until then this should work perfectly.

Glut Yourself On My Accursed Ugliness: The Phantom of the Opera (1925)

Perhaps the oldest film I will discuss this month, The Phantom of the Opera, the original at least, is a French silent film that often gets relegated to secondary mention in the silent film classics of the 1920's. Yet, I can say with some degree of certainty that this is, by far, one of the great works of silent cinema and perhaps one of my new favorite horror films, because unlike some of the previous films discussed this month, one can easily center this nearly century old film comfortably within the genre even if it does have a few moments of melodrama thrown in for good measure.  Beyond that, it is easily one of the most well costumed and designed films I have ever come across, between Phantom's too human replica of a mask to the Red Scare costume and even the unexplained headless statue that evades many scenes, nothing is normal in this film and I can imagine that it provided many a nightmare upon its initial release and certainly has the potential to scare the hell out of people even today.  Stepping away from the filmmaking aspects, one can still draw a lot of greatness from The Phantom of the Opera in the  ways it comments on forced love, notions of societal beauty as well as the breeding of hate in one's soul, all themes that are tackled in great detail and with a decent deal of success.  While I understand that it is by no means the first horror film ever made, I would be willing to bet that it is one of the first to engage viewers on such a magnificent cinematic and philosophical level, without getting lost in its showiness, even if it is a theatrical film, it exists in a very self-aware manner of performativity.

The film locates its story at the Paris Opera House where two young woman are vying for lead roles night after night in the various sold-out performances at the theater.  The two women, the prima donna Carlotta (Virginia Pearson) and her understudy Christine (Mary Philbin) are not at odds with each other, but when mysterious threats from an unseen man named the Phantom are directed at Carlotta, Christine is afforded an opportunity to sing, with much success, as well as praise from her beaux Raoul (Norman Kerry).  After a well-received performance, Raoul begs Christine to step away from opera and marry him, only for Christine to become distracted by voices in the walls from the Phantom (Lon Chaney), confessing his love for Christine and his assurance that she will always have a place as a leading lady in the opera house.  Phantom makes true on his promise by causing a chandelier to crash down during Carlotta's next performance, causing mass panic in the house and affording him an opportunity to kidnap Christine.  At this point, as a hostage to Phantom, Christine disobeys his request to not remove his mask, only to discover a grotesque man underneath the disguise causing her to faint in disgust and fear.  Eventually, Christine agrees to give her heart to Phantom, who she learns to be a man named Erik, if he will allow her back on to perform.  Of course, Christine uses this opportunity to meet up with Raoul, much to Phantom's demise, considering he has attended the masquerade the two are at dressed as a demonic version of the Red Scare.  Set on keeping Christine for himself, Phantom steals her away again, only to be chased by Raoul, as well as a detective named Inspector Ledoux (Arthur Edmund Carewe) who is an expert in the ways of Phantom.  After a series of traps and troubles, the two, along with a mob angered at the Phantom, break into his labyrinth and drown the Phantom, but not before the Phantom slyly reminds them that their fears exist in nothingness.

Again this movie is perfection, as far as silent filmmaking is concerned.  I dread ever having to watch one of the film remakes of this story, because I know wholeheartedly that it will be less than stellar and will in all likelihood humanize the character of Phantom.  My worries are not in the making the Phantom's looks a means for pity, because it is tragic no doubt, yet this narrative suggests that he gained the disfigurement from dabbling in the dark arts, and, furthermore, his incessant demand to have Christine as a possession all his own reflects an inner ugliness that should manifest itself in a physical way.  The original Phantom, one could argue, lacks any redemptive qualities, he readily harms people to get his way and chooses happily to exist in solitude, one article in the film suggesting he actually does so in order to avoid being involved with a bloody revolution.  Perhaps we are to blame Andrew Lloyd Webber for making Phantom into something else, but I just want to reiterate that in this early version, with Lon Chaney delivering a brilliant Phantom he has nothing to embrace, except maybe a bit of ungrounded fear directed towards him by a mob of Parisians.  Essentially, like all the characters in this film, Phantom is performing a role, one that he gladly embraces and shows no remorse towards, perhaps if he had then his life would have been spared.

Key Scene:  There is a moment where Phantom, while dressed as the Red Scare, is hiding in a tree that is one of the greatest moments of cinematography I have ever seen.

I cannot express how necessary of a viewing experience this film proved to be and while it is available to Watch Instantly on Netflix, I highly suggest getting the blu-ray as it will undoubtedly improve the experience.

Being Normal Is Vastly Overrated: Halloweentown (1998)

I promised to give a vast study of horror films in my themed month for October and certainly intend to deliver on that promise, which helps to explain the next film on my tour, the 1998 Disney television movie Halloweentown, a pick by my girlfriend for the list and probably the biggest genre stretch on my list.  However, to say that it is a stretch is not an attempt to undermine the work in the slightest, there are moments in this film that I recall from my younger days as being genuinely scary and ones that could still be frightful to the right group of youngsters.  It was fun to revisit this film, as I only had fleeting memories of the plot and had no idea the film included the consummate Debbie Reynolds.  Of course the plot is a bit fractured, but one can expect such occurrences when, firstly the film is made for television and secondly it is directed towards a youth audience.  Many of the characters exist a plot devices and manage to have a very cursory place in the brief movie, only clocking in at a bit over eighty minutes.  The plot it does possess though is well-executed and contains some moments of comedic brilliance as well as a few genuine scares, all culminating in a great commentary on embracing ones uniqueness and accepting even against stalwart reasoning that some things are, in fact, magic.  Finally, the make-up and costuming in this film are stellar, particularly the various beasts and creatures shown throughout the film and one scene of exceptionally good stop motion animation.  It is probably going to be the only family friendly movie blogged about this month, and one of the few I have blogged about to date, but it is certainly a movie for persons of many age groups as its humor ranges from simple slapstick, to some clearly adult oriented humor.

The story in Halloweentown begins on Halloween, as should be little surprise as three kids look longingly at the festivities from inside their house.  The children include a young girl named Sophie (Emily Roeske), an incorrigible nerd named Dylan (Joey Zimmerman) and the oldest daughter and eccentric Marnie (Kimberly J. Brown).  Despite their constant pleas to partake in trick or treating, their mother Gwen, played by Judith Hoag (who is likely better known as April O'Neil in the live action Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles film), denies their request.  She feels adamantly that they will be somehow ruined by the events of such a day.  Viewers are uncertain as to her concerns, until it is realized with the entrance of their grandmother Aggie (Debbie Reynolds), that they are related to an ancient family of witches.  Despite Aggie's less than subtle hints at their unique nature, Gwen denies them the right to explore this alternative life, instead wishing for them to have a "normal" life, despite being without a father figure.  Upon overhearing her mother and grandmother argue about her right to be a witch, Marnie follows her grandmother to Halloweentown via a flying bus to another world, only to be joined by Dylan and Sophie who share an equal curiosity.  Upon landing the group attempts to find their grandmother, but not before running into Calabar (Robin Thomas) Halloweentown's mayor.  He aids them in transportation to their grandmother's house via a taxi ride from a wise cracking skeleton named Benny, voiced by Rino Romano.  It is at this point that the children discover that trouble is afoot in Halloweentown and their grandmother is attempting to stop its occurrence.  Followed hot on the tail by an irate Gwen, the children and grandmother end up in a theater where it is revealed that Calabar is behind the evil in the town, freezing all who disobey him.  In the process of confronting Calabar, Gwen and Aggie are frozen by a spell and the children are left to complete Aggie's spell, which requires obtaining ingredients such as the hair of a werewolf and the sweat of a ghost.  They succeed in doing so and finally get the means to confront Calabar, and with a little help from a town local the group beats him and everything is returned to normal, with a suggestion that the three children, despite their mother's original denial, will indeed be trained in the dark arts.

The movies commentary is rather simple, as it should be considering that it is essentially directed at children.  However, the lesson taught is a very important one, especially for young adults and children. Instead of simply being a horror/comedy family film, Halloweentown posits something much greater in its suggestion that one should embrace uniqueness even if certain groups in society claim it to be, in this case, demonic.  Gwen represents a troubled single mother who holds falsely onto an idea that somehow by denying her heritage and identity that her children will exist in a better world, when it is clear that her disconnect and denial are only bringing more questions up within her children and arguably raising them to be social outcasts, as an early reaction with some of Marnie's friends suggests.  Aggie, in a maternal, and somewhat ancestral sense, claims this heritage and struggles desperately to keep her grandchildren practicing long after her passing.  The film also embraces a feminist ideology in that many of the spells require a group of women to unite together to make it more powerful, made all the more pertinent in that these women are of different ages.  The brief film also tackles notions of beauty and friendship, as occurs between Marnie and Luke (Phillip Van Dyke) a "dashing" young boy in Halloweentown who takes a liking to Marine, only to betray her, in what viewers come to discover was a Devil's bargain with Calaber to make him look better.  Essentially, Halloweentown contains a series of life lessons for young viewers and even a few reminders to parents on embracing their familial identity and heritage, even if it is not the mainstream idea of normal.  If anything the film denies denial.

Key Scene:  The obtaining of ingredients montage is quite fun and probably the funniest moment in the film.

I want to tell everybody to go out and buy this film, but I know it is for only a select few, not to mention that it is unusually expensive for what it is and, furthermore, it seems to sell out quickly after being stocked, at least that is what happened repeatedly at the Target near my house.