Thursday, 21 November 2019

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 61. The Saragossa Manuscript

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces and fascinating curios that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.

The Saragossa Manuscript
Director – Wojciech Has
Country - Poland
Year - 1965
Runtime - 185 minutes

Extravagant and intricate storytelling awaits anyone who delves into Wojciech Has' decadent three-hour opus The Saragossa Manuscript. Has plunges us through surreal, macabre and sensual tales where we meet a vast array of fascinating characters such as bandits, cabalists, sultans and temptresses; many of whom are gifted in the art of recounting enchanting anecdotes. This enthralling fantasy features multiple subplots that are intertwined with a startling dexterity as each narrator encounters other characters who are fond of regaling all and sundry with their exploits, thus opening up a Russian doll like experience as we delve deeper into the unknown until the storylines begin to loop back upon one another.

A rousing rendition of Ode to Joy greets us as the atmospheric opening credits part to leave us with a view of Spanish soldiers embroiled in a battle on the outskirts of a town in ruins. One of these soldiers flees to the safety of a nearby house and chances upon an enticing manuscript that distracts his attention from the carnage outside. He is joined by an enemy soldier who is likewise hypnotised by its striking illustrations and their differences are cast aside when the second soldier begins to read aloud a story contained within that happens to be an account of his father’s life, Captain Alfonso van Worden. We are then thrust headfirst into the central storyline about Alfonso where further diversions continue to be presented in a similar manner and the narration takes us through an engaging odyssey of adventures.


Strange, ethereal noises accompany scenes in which the primary protagonist comes under affray from supernatural beings. These otherworldly tones foreshadow the mischievous nature of the spirits he encounters, as they play cruel tricks that test his integrity of character. The dreamlike visions he experiences leave us as confused as Alfonso wrestles with his blurred perception of reality, uncertain if his waking life has been distorted by powers beyond our comprehension. The spellbinding imagery of these eerie sequences evokes a similar ambience to the fantastical delights of Cocteau's classics Orphée and La Belle et la Bête; entrancing us with hypnotic visuals befitting of a dark fairy-tale.

As we enter the second half of the story, we move away from elements of fantasy and encounter rich merchants and noblemen who vie for the attention of alluring young ladies as charismatic rogues manipulate their dalliances in the pursuit of coin. The story appears to tumble further and further down into a seemingly inescapable rabbit hole, and it is bewildering but exciting to imagine how the film's loose ends will all come full circle. Repeat viewings are recommended as some characters have story arcs that begin before they are even introduced as they make brief, subtle appearances in the segments that precede their own. This doesn't hinder the enjoyment of the picture on first viewing but instead enriches the experience for those who are willing to explore the intricate labyrinth of subplots that leads us to consider the intelligent design of this philosophical puzzle.

The vast scale of this undertaking is awe-inspiring with labyrinthine levels of detail, the likes of which you may have seen in ambitious works such as the Wachowski's epic science fiction film, Cloud Atlas, or in the surreal philosophical leanings of Chilean film-maker Raoul Ruiz's mystical oeuvre. As is the case with the aforementioned works, The Saragossa Manuscript is a thought-provoking film that demands your full attention but the treasure chest of delights that are unearthed along the journey are more than worth your unwavering gaze.

In less capable hands this storytelling technique could easily leave us disoriented and confused but Has conjures up such evocative imagery and brilliantly realised characterisations and this enable the separate strands to remain distinctive and easily identifiable. One of his characters even exclaims that the key to great storytelling is in the art of suspense, and this notion is used throughout as Has often leaves us hanging in anticipation when traversing between narrators. Playful self-referential shenanigans such as this off-hand remark imbue Has' film with a wit that complements the surreal humour and shows daring as his wild ideas bring flavour to the film in an innovative and enthralling manner.


Wojiech Has adapted the source material for The Saragossa Manuscript to the big screen with a real flair for theatrics and showmanship that utilises the tremendous talents of the actors who bring his version of the story to life with great aplomb. There are not many filmmakers who could conjure up such an accessible and satisfying head trip from a lengthy 18th Century novella and this is perhaps the reason why The Saragossa Manuscript remains a cult oddity without comparison. Anyone who is open to the surreal tendencies of Film Directors such as Jodorowsky or Buñuel will find themselves at home in Has' enticing oeuvre of films, with The Saragossa Manuscript standing out as the culmination of a lifetime devoted to the cinematic art of storytelling.

If you take the time to watch The Saragossa Manuscript then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!



For previous instalments in the series click here

Tuesday, 5 November 2019

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 60. A Special Day

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces and fascinating curios that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.



A Special Day (Una Giornata Particolare)
Director – Ettore Scola
Country - Italy
Year - 1977
Runtime - 110 Minutes

On May 8th, 1938, Hitler visited Rome to meet with Mussolini and strengthen the union between Germany and Italy as the rise of fascism was taking hold of many parts of Europe. This was a special day for Italy and the residents of Rome who attended a magnificent parade that served to swell the ever-burgeoning national pride in the movement. For housewife and mother of six, Antonietta (Sophia Loren), this day would prove to be an eye-opening experience - but not for the reasons we may expect.

After rousing her family from their slumber and sending them off to watch the parade, Antonietta remains at home to work on a never-ending barrage of chores whilst listening to the day's events on the radio. In a brief moment of carelessness Antonietta leaves their pet bird's cage open and it flutters out of a window into the apartment building's central courtyard. She enlists the help of a neighbour, Gabriele (Marcello Mastroianni) - who seems to be one of the only other people not at the parade - to assist in the bird’s rescue. The two down beaten strangers find solace in each other's company and spend most of this unforgettable day deliberating over their current stations in life.

Ettore Scola's politically charged drama offers a scathing social critique on the popular stance of the era it depicts through the amicable clash of two people with opposing views. Both Gabriele and Antonietta are portrayed as warm and tender individuals who share an instant connection, but this friendship is tested when discussions turn to their perspectives on the current state of their beloved Italy. Antonietta is the wife of a proud fascist and although on the surface she appears apolitical, she takes an interest in her husband's passion, creating scrap books filled with newspaper cuttings about the political movement. When Gabriele peruses one of these books we learn that he is a staunch opposer of the fascist regime, for personal reasons he is reluctant to disclose, and it transpires that this outlook is one of the reasons why Gabriele lost his job as a popular and successful radio presenter.


As their conversations meander from friendly to flirtatious interactions, and then to a revelatory expose on Italy's state of affairs, we are drawn into the fascinating lives of Antonietta and Gabriele. You can sense the longing for companionship from both characters; each have been pushed to one side due to the proliferation of a dangerous political movement and they have this in common, even if other aspects of their views are misaligned. This simple premise of revealing dialogues shared between two strangers is highly engaging due to the exceptional performances from Loren and Mastroianni. Loren imbues her lonely housewife with a worn-down sadness that makes Antonietta's desire for romance understandable. Her lustful thoughts over Gabriele appear to be unreciprocated, as Mastroianni instills his character with a mysteriousness that arouses Antonietta's senses, but not her suspicions.

The only music we hear throughout the film is that which is played over the radio. The pomp and circumstance of the fascist parade gives rise to the steady beat of marching drums and triumphant choruses as the roar of the crowd increases and drowns out the instruments. This aural backdrop to the blossoming relationship shared by our two protagonists intersects their interchanges as it comes into focus during the day's defining movements. The contrast between the ominous event, which is enrapturing Italians everywhere, and the small-scale exchanges that transfix our attention couldn't be more pronounced. This amalgamation of the two scenarios is a striking approach to storytelling that enhances the impact of the union between these two lonely souls.

Both the story and the impressive camerawork remain confined within the grounds of the apartment building, but Scola makes great use of this location; shooting the action in the stairwells, the central courtyard, and even on the roof, to prevent his picture from remaining static. His composition and framing consider the prominent architecture of the enclosed setting whilst also making the audience feel like a fly on the wall as the day's events unfold. We are invited into the lives of these fascinating characters even if it seems to be an intrusion into an intimate and personal space that we sense should be kept in privacy behind locked doors.


A Special Day offers an invaluable insight into the lives of two people affected by the rise of fascism and acts as a revealing time capsule of the cultural zeitgeist of 1930s Italy in the build-up to World War Two. Its stirring drama plays out in a manner so as not to distance those who are uninterested in the politics of the era, as the story can be taken at face value for the hopeful romantic interlude it recounts between Gabriele and Antonietta. However, those wishing to delve into the societal subtext of this suggestive screenplay will surely revel in its intricate deconstruction of the outlandish attitudes that were shared by the populace at large during this period in history. The prevalence of this prejudiced viewpoint is a notion that is explored by Gabriele as he attempts to challenge Antonietta's perspective during the fateful day of Hitler's visit, which is fitting both historically and thematically as a backdrop for their enchanting and enlightening discourse. A Special Day is a mesmerising tale of liberation and, conversely, repression, that remains a landmark Italian film for reasons both of cultural importance and for fanning dreams of escapism borne from chance encounters that have a profound impact on the lives of those involved.

If you take the time to watch A Special Day then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!



For previous instalments in the series click here

Friday, 25 October 2019

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 59. Je T'attendrai

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces and fascinating curios that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.

Je T'attendrai
Director - Léonide Moguy
Country - France
Year - 1939
Runtime - 85 minutes

With the outbreak of World War One, many families and lovers were separated when men deemed fit for active duty were drafted into the French army to protect the country from the approaching German army. This situation tested the loyalties of soldiers torn between the love for their country and their devotion towards those closest to them, with some (brave or foolish?) men even risking the death penalty by fleeing from their duties in pursuit of being reunited with their loved ones. Je T'attendrai or The Deserter is a stirring French drama that explores this very notion when a soldier seizes the chance to visit the woman he intends to marry, for one last time before heading towards the front, after a faulty train track delays the transportation of his unit.

This poignant tale by Director Léonide Moguy was released in 1939, prior to the start of World War Two, and was subsequently pulled from circulation when its content was viewed as defamatory towards the war efforts. As a result, this beautifully shot romance was consigned to obscurity, where it sadly remained until none other than Quentin Tarantino pushed for its restoration when discovering Moguy's filmography during his research for Inglourious Basterds. Moguy utilises the war as a thrilling backdrop to his emotionally charged romance and provides a rare, hopeful outlook to his storyline that unfolds largely in real time - an inventive approach considering the era in which the film was made. His considered framing creates an enchanting and evocative view of the distressing situations encountered by the film's key players. The striking imagery is one of Je T'attendrai's most accomplished elements and the memorable shots enhance an already enthralling storyline.

Private Paul Marchand (Jean-Pierre Aumont) is the lovelorn soldier who convinces his commanding officer to allow him to visit Marie (Corinne Luchaire), the alluring lady from his hometown who has captured his heart. Aumont is perfectly cast in this role, embodying the characteristics of an innocent young soldier who is fearful that he may never return from the war. Marchand seizes the opportunity to allay his concerns about a future together with Marie only to find that the distance between the two lovers - and the interference of Marchand's proud parents - has taken its toll on their relationship. Luchaire's dazzling performance as Marie encapsulates the pain and grief of a lonely woman, uncertain if the future holds any prospects for her and the man she was once smitten with. Their natural chemistry lights up the screen, delivering an emotional hook that encourages the audience to desire a rekindling of their union.

We become fearful not only for the fate of this relationship but for Marchand's life as he risks being court martialled if he fails to make it back to his squadron before the train departs. These anxieties weigh heavy on our protagonist as he wrestles with his feelings and faces almost impossible decisions in the pursuit of his own happiness. A rousing score heightens the tension and invokes a sense of urgency as Marchand's limited time with Marie comes close to expiring. Heated scenes in the storeroom of a bar which Marie now works in leave us with bated breath as the bar owner's manipulative hold over Marie is challenged by Marchand, causing a devastating blow to the couple's chance of working through their differences.

Reluctant reconciliations result in a flurry of activity in the film's intense finale as the main characters scramble to retain their hold on that which is dearest to them. Like the ever-ticking clock in High Noon, we are conscious of the short window of opportunity presented to Marchand and this ploy brings a generous dose of suspense to an otherwise relatively simplistic storyline. There is beauty in Je T'attendrai's simplicity though; it's an elegantly told and engaging story with universal appeal. The care and attention paid to the cinematography and the heartfelt acting elevate the screenplay to the realm of an overlooked French classic that deserves to be bestowed with far more acclaim and appreciation than it currently garners. 


Those who take pleasure in perusing the forgotten annals of a country renowned for its incredible contribution to the cinematic landscape will undoubtedly rejoice in experiencing such an impassioned labour of love from Léonide Moguy. Its snapshot of an era in history prior to the devastation of World War Two offers a fascinating insight into the cruel follies of World War One and the ensuing regret that consumed enlisted soldiers as they headed out to the front, unaware if they will ever return. The breath-taking artistry of the images presented by Moguy serve to create a highly memorable encounter that is likely to linger on your thoughts long after the heart-palpitating climax has passed. This is one deserter that you will be reluctant to let out of your sight for too long as its striking imagery draws you back in to revisit its bewitching grandeur time and time again.

If you take the time to watch Je T'attendrai then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!

For previous instalments in the series click here

Friday, 27 September 2019

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 58. Love is Strange

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces and fascinating curios that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.

Love is Strange
Director - Ira Sachs
Country - USA
Year 2014
Runtime - 94 minutes

Love Is Strange is a subtle meditation on love, life, and loss, channeling Leo McCarey's Make Way For Tomorrow but updating the classic tale to feature an aging gay couple who live in New York. John Lithgow plays Ben, a world-weary painter who marries his long time partner George (Alfred Molina), a music teacher at a catholic school, who subsequently loses his job when the bishop discovers he is married to a man. Forced to vacate and sell the lavish apartment they have lived in for over thirty years, the couple fall back on their supportive friends and family whilst searching for a new home. Ben takes up residence with his nephew, Elliot (Darren Burrows), and wife Kate (Marisa Tomei), where he has to share the bunk beds in their son's room, whereas George takes the sofa at their friend's flat; two gay policemen known affectionately as 'the police women' who are constantly throwing late night parties. Separated from each other and living in different parts of the city, Ben and George struggle to adjust to their new surroundings and this strain takes a toll on their relationship and their health.

Ira Sach's sublime film exudes a warmth that is befitting of its charming characters. You cannot resist becoming embroiled in the trials and tribulations of Ben and George, the charismatic couple who possess a kind and supportive nature that is positively heartwarming. Lithgow and Molina are entirely believable as the separated lovers and bring Sach's creation to life in a way that has you firmly invested in their relationship.

A subdued classical soundtrack acts as a beautiful accompaniment to this touching story, with the delicate piano complimenting the gentle personas of Ben and George. This soundscape crosses over into the story more than once due to George's affinity for music, in scenes where he plays piano to his friends and teaches his pupils. George is deeply hurt by the decision the school's board takes to relieve him of his position, and the jaded views of those acting upon this is the catalyst for many of his (and Ben's) future woes.

Like Ben living at his nephew's apartment, we feel like a fly on the wall watching the unfolding
storyline as Sachs chooses to exhibit the mundane as much as he focuses on that which is significant, giving us a true understanding of the day to day sadness inflicted on the couple by this upsetting turn of events. Ben is exposed to the inner turmoil affecting his nephew's family, namely the testing relationship between rebellious teen Joey (Charlie Tahan) and his parents, and he inadvertently worsens the situation by using Joey's best (and only) friend as a model for his painting when the boys should be studying. Joey struggles to adapt to sharing his room with his dad's gay uncle, which is understandably one of the last things that a teenager would want imposed upon their private space. Tahan showcases this frustration exceptionally well; Joey clearly doesn't want to upset Ben but you can sense the unhappiness lurking underneath the surface.

Love Is Strange is a poignant and affecting character study; a small-scale drama exploring important themes that will resonate with people from all walks of life. Sachs carefully exposes his character's weaknesses in a graceful and respectable manner as Ben and George come to realise the world is moving along without them. The heartache and pain this causes is inherent throughout, although, like Ben and George, it is often pushed to one side in favour of the stories of other minor but fascinating characters in the film.

Sometimes films can provoke an immediate reaction in the viewer and others leave the audience in contemplation, reflecting on that which they have seen for a number of days. Love Is Strange lies firmly in the latter camp; whilst its stirring journey does elicit an emotional response from the viewer, it is a film that lingers on the mind long afterwards. Its measured approach to storytelling and gentle pace allow time for the viewer to consider its important message, and it may even inspire you to reach out to an older friend or relative you haven't seen in a while. We can learn a lot from those who have come before us and Sach's elegant film takes a beautiful viewpoint on this; highlighting the invaluable contribution older generations make towards a modern society that sadly may not always have the time for them.

If you take the time to watch Love is Strange then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!



For previous instalments in the series click here

Saturday, 14 September 2019

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 57. Lawn Dogs

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces and fascinating curios that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.


Lawn Dogs
Director - John Duigan
Country - USA
Year - 1997
Runtime - 101 minutes

An innocent friendship between a young girl whose family have relocated to a tranquil suburb in Kentucky and a strange outsider who makes a living mowing the lawns of its rich residents is the focus of John Duigan's wonderful fantasy drama, Lawn Dogs. Mischa Barton makes her debut feature film appearance as Devon Stockard, a ten year old girl who is neglected by her parents, Morton (Christopher McDonald) and Clare (Kathleen Quinlan), and forms a bond with twenty-one year old Trent Burns (Sam Rockwell) after she stumbles upon his ramshackle caravan deep in the nearby woods. The Stockards would be horrified if they knew Devon had left the safety of their gated community so Trent returns her home, making sure to drop her at the border of the suburbs so as not to arouse any suspicion from Nash (Bruce McGill), the overzealous police officer who rules over the neighbourhood with an iron fist.

Like American Beauty and Suburbicon, Lawn Dogs holds a magnifying glass up at the inner workings of the American suburb, exploring the notion that all is not well behind the white-washed fences of a seemingly perfect community and its residents who masquerade dark secrets. Where Lawn Dogs differs is in its viewpoint of this unease that bubbles under the surface, as we see the cracks in the facade through the eyes of Devon, whose overactive imagination leads her young mind to retreat into a dream-like fantasy land. Devon takes inspiration from the classic Russian folk tale of the Baba Yaga, a story about an evil witch who dwells in the woods and eats children; applying this fable to her own parallel experiences as she has no friends of her own age to play with. The child-like and caring nature of Trent resounds with Devon and the two outsiders find companionship in an unlikely alliance, even if it exposes them to the inherent dangers that lurk within the model society they both turn their back upon.

Duigan's sharp deconstruction of blissful suburban life starts off as a quirky coming of age tale with shades of black comedy but descends into a tempestuous drama as the hot summer boils up the underlying tensions between Trent and two bored residents, Brett (David Barry Gray) and Sean (Eric Mabius) - who openly flirts with Trent whenever the two are alone. They make fun of Trent's dishevelled appearance and his run-down truck and inadvertently undermine his lawn-mowing services by tending to the gardens of lonely housewives who welcome Brett's lurid advances. The usually calm and composed Trent is pushed to breaking point by these encounters and Rockwell's biting demonstration of this change in his character's demeanour showcases why he was perfect for the role, with his upsetting retaliation causing friction in his friendship with Devon as she ends up in a precarious position. Trent intervenes and inadvertently sets in motion a series of events that provokes further aggression from his antagonists, who are joined by an angry Morton Stockard and a concerned police officer Nash.

As well as bringing a charged emotional depth to his performance Rockwell is the driving force for much of the film's humour; his cheeky grin as he stops traffic to dive naked into a river from a tall bridge after a hard day's work is a revealing scene for Trent, in more ways than one. Innocent nudity is also displayed by Barton in a scene where Devon tosses her clothes out to the wind as she curls up on the roof outside of her bedroom window in another moment of rebellion. These scenes serve to highlight the similarities between the two individuals as they vent their frustrations in ways that upset the status quo and demonstrates that they are not yet shackled by the loss of innocence that has ushered on the repression of others around them.

Barton is utterly delightful as Devon; she is completely believable as the sweet young girl who her parents take her for but equally convincing as the cunning child who tricks them into thinking she is staying at a friend's house overnight when really she is visiting Trent. Devon's occasional flights of fancy remind us that she is still firmly in the realm of childhood, even if her character is often the most mature and grounded of the adults she shares the screen with. Her perfectly natural kinship with Trent is the purest relationship we see, and it is heartbreaking when those who disagree with this union of damaged souls interpret it as something far more sinister, particularly as we are aware of the adulterous actions of those who condemn their friendship.

Lawn Dogs is a funny, frank, and surprisingly insightful take on the all American dream. The elements of a childhood fantasy are integrated incredibly well with the adult themes of deceit and unfulfillment, bringing a coarse but enlightening tone to the proceedings that gives Duigan's voice an imposing pedestal from which to be heard. He has crafted a poignant and touching American drama, which is pretty damn impressive for an Australian film director, and his stance on the trappings of its modern society is as satisfying to behold as a swathe of freshly mowed lawns on a superficially pristine American suburb.

If you take the time to watch Lawn Dogs then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!



For previous instalments in the series click here

Saturday, 7 September 2019

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 56. The Eve of Ivan Kupala

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.

The Eve of Ivan Kupala
Director - Yuri Ilyenko
Country - Soviet Union
Year 1968
Runtime - 71 minutes

The Eve of Ivan Kupala is a surreal adaptation of a Ukrainian folk tale that extends a hallucinatory gaze into a culture awash with age old rituals and spiritual connections to the natural world. Its eerie vision of a peasant, Piotr (Boris Khmelnitskiy), who makes a pact with the devil to obtain a mass of riches and the love of a woman, Pidorka (Larisa Kadochnikova) - whose father forbids them to marry - is a transcendental piece of film-making that is capable of bewitching audiences with its strange, ethereal delights. Familiarity with the cautionary tale this film is based upon is not a necessary prerequisite to bask in its otherworldly offerings as the hypnotic imagery delivers a wealth of evocative scenes that stir up a child-like fascination with Director Yuri Ilyenko's enrapturing creativity.

Ilyenko's dazzling camerawork conjures up a kaleidoscope of wonders as the enchanting colour schemes and spellbinding compositions take us on a magical journey that we hope never reaches an end. Although The Eve of Ivan Kupala belongs to the realm of fantasy there are unsettling scenes which tap into a primal horror where the dizzying camera movements disorient us as Piotr becomes encircled by supernatural beings. The inventive use of colour lenses warp our perception of these beguiling sequences in which the devil makes his appearance, enhancing the sensation of fear that engulfs Piotr, yet fails to over-ride his innate desire for untold riches and the incomparable beauty of the woman he lusts after.

Fireballs ricochet down hillsides in the background as villagers adorned in floral costumes and animal masks partake in ceremonial dances reminiscent of the pagan practices prevalent in The Wicker Man and Midsommar. These celebrations usher in a jubilant mood before casting a shadow over Piotr's designs on Pidorka as the playfulness of those participating passes and a sinister undercurrent begins to flourish. Those who dabble in the occult usually pay a hefty price for their sins and Piotr's attempts at retaining Pidorka's heart and his newfound wealth are met with twisted rebuffs from the Devil as the macabre manifestations start to consume him.

Like his fellow countryman and celebrated auteur, Andrei Tarkovsky, Ilyenko has an unnatural talent for elegantly capturing the beauty of nature, instilling his film with a sublime artistry that transports us into his extraordinary vivid imagination. These serene moments are often interrupted by a cavalcade of absurdity and the unharmonious juxtaposition of these moods should be jarring but Ilyenko binds them together seamlessly, unifying the discordant themes with his adept command of the medium. The relentless stream of ideas that flows forth is communicated in an enthralling manner as the sumptuous set designs play host to madcap performances from a cast who relish the bizarre sensibilities of a production infused with unparalleled creativity. This is an astonishing piece of art; an unconventional masterpiece where its only shortcoming is its brevity, and it acts as the perfect gateway into the mind of an inspired auteur.

The intriguing narrative takes a backseat to the visual feast we are invited upon as Ilyenko drapes his fantasy with a swathe of symbolism. This is a feast of plenty encompassing folklore that is likely to be unfamiliar to many audiences but its potency is not lost in translation due to the painstaking craftsmanship of the delivery. The Eve of Ivan Kupala is not just a film; it's a breathtaking experience that leaves you in awe of its vigorous and energetic telling of an ancient tale using striking techniques to evoke a powerful sense of sorcery. Piotr's life is totally transformed by his encounter with the devil and, although your encounter with Ilyenko's masterpiece will (thankfully) not come with the same trappings that are thrust upon Piotr, it will undoubtedly be an experience that transforms your appreciation for the incredible mind responsible for this visceral piece of art.

If you take the time to watch The Eve of Ivan Kupala then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!



For previous instalments in the series click here

Friday, 23 August 2019

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 55. The Boxer and Death

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.

The Boxer and Death
Director - Peter Solan
Country - Czechoslovakia
Year 1963
Runtime - 120 minutes

The resourcefulness of those persecuted by the Nazis during the Holocaust coupled with the serendipitous nature of possessing a certain skill, craft or trade that helped the oppressed survive has been the central conceit for many profound war films. Roman Polanski's The Pianist and Stefan Ruzowitsky's The Counterfeiters feature protagonists who are saved from horrific fates thanks to their usefulness to the cruel authorities who oversee the concentration camps or ghettos they are detained in. Those who survived to see another day in such abominable places were destined to pay a terrible price as the guilt and remorse of seeing their close companions taken to the gas chambers inevitably weighed heavily upon their emotional state of mind.

An overlooked Czechoslovakian film that explores this very notion is Peter Solan's moving drama from 1963, The Boxer and Death. It tells a powerful tale of a Jewish pugilist, Jan Kominek (Stefan Kvietik), whose life is spared when a Nazi commandant fond of boxing, Kraft (Manfred Krug) - who is in charge of the concentration camp where Jan is captive - takes Jan for his sparring partner. Jan is given extra food to gain weight and increase his strength for these sparring matches but this advantageous position causes friction between the boxer and some of the other camp's inhabitants. As well as facing hostilities from his peers, Jan also struggles when facing Kraft in the ring. He understands that it is important not to overstep his mark when throwing punches and this proves to be a difficult undertaking. Jan is presented with the perfect opportunity to take out his frustrations on the commandant and his true feelings threaten to bubble up to the surface as the bouts increase in intensity.

A mutual yet tenuous bond of respect and, to a certain degree, friendship is formed between these two men as they train together. The vast differences in their circumstances prevents a genuine connection from ever being possible given the situation but it is fascinating to see how their time spent boxing together becomes an important release for both of them. It provides Kraft with a way to flex his power and indulge his domineering nature on a weaker man, whilst also allowing him to feel good about helping out someone in desperate need of hope, and it encourages Jan to quite literally fight for a chance to make it through the oppressive Nazi regime with his body and soul intact.

Kvietik imbues his character with an innate hunger for survival that is demonstrated wonderfully in an early scene where he defies Kraft by dodging punches which are being inflicted upon him due to a failed escape attempt. This is the incidental but defining moment that acts as a catalyst for Jan, bringing his attention to Kraft and initiating a gradual change in his outlook through the boxing that enables his strength and hope to return. Krug is equally as compelling as Kraft, showcasing a human side to a man who has been swept up by the spread of Nazism and begins to display signs of doubt surrounding the final solution. Both actors possess a natural skill in the ring that lends credence to their exceptional performances, and the vigorous boxing bouts are capable of holding your attention as much as the scenes which deal with the weightier themes of the Holocaust.

In addition to the exceptionally choreographed fight scenes where Jan faces up to Kraft, he is constantly portrayed as battling his own personal demons and this is represented by the stunning cinematography and direction by Peter Solan. Smoke engulfs Jan as he trains near the camp's chimneys in a sombre and haunting sequence, momentarily clouding his judgement and adding to his inner turmoil, whilst also serving as a stark reminder that he is clinging on to life by the smallest of threads. This is powerful film-making, rife with thought-provoking symbolism and poignant, evocative shots that allude to the horrors of war without resorting to depicting the full graphic extent of the barbarity that took place at these camps.

Like the aforementioned films which tackle a similar subject matter, The Boxer and Death is an emotionally draining yet essential viewing experience, albeit one that has sadly slipped into obscurity. It may be a harrowing tale about the atrocities of war but it is also a stirring sports drama, an intimate character study, and a thrilling struggle between two men with radically opposing views. Films as potent as this deserve to reach a much wider audience; the valuable lessons contained within are impressed upon the viewer with a deftness of touch that is rare given the provocative nature of the troubling time in history it depicts. Solan has crafted a memorable film with an important message and a gripping storyline that resonates on a deep level as we contemplate the eternal scarring suffered by those who survived through such a horrific, life-altering ordeal.

If you take the time to watch The Boxer and Death then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!



For previous instalments in the series click here

Thursday, 15 August 2019

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 54. I'm Not Scared

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.

I'm Not Scared
Director - Gabriele Salvatores
Country - Italy
Year - 2003
Runtime - 108 minutes

I'm Not Scared is a chilling mystery as seen through the eyes of Michele, a nine year old boy who lives in an idyllic pastoral village in the Italian countryside. Whilst out playing with his friends, Michele uncovers a bloodcurdling secret and his inquisitive nature lands him in a dangerous situation when he returns alone to investigate further. At first, Michele keeps his discovery a secret from his parents and friends. However, as his actions of kindness towards a stranger grow bolder, Michele's risk of being caught by the perpetrators of a heinous crime increases and threatens to derail his family's peaceful existence.

Director Gabriele Salvatores adapted this enthralling story from the successful novel of the same name by Niccolo Ammaniti and brought his sublime vision of the loss of childhood innocence to life with vivid detail. This is a beautifully realised amalgamation of a childhood fantasy with a disturbing crime story in a sumptuous setting that provides an enchanting backdrop to the proceedings. Visceral tracking shots of Michele and his friends frolicking in tall wheat fields at the start of the film evoke the magic of happy childhood memories and culminate in a demonstration of Michele's strength of character as he stands up for a girl who is being bullied. These relatively carefree times are soon to be disrupted by a life-changing set of circumstances and the subsequent crescendo to the film's revelatory finale is as enthralling as its heartstopping conclusion.

In child actor Giuseppe Cristiano, Salvatore found the perfect combination of innocence and curiosity that drives a spirited performance with real conviction in his portrayal of Michele. Cristiano tackles a range of challenging scenes, particularly when Michele witness his mother being assaulted, and brings a sense of stoicism to his role - a trait that only a child who doesn't fully comprehend the seriousness of the situations he finds himself in is likely to exhibit. Michele is a boy who will captivate your heart, and Cristiano's superb depiction of the film's central character brings a raw emotional hook that propels the picture into the realm of greatness.

Trouble rears its head when Michele's father, Pino, is visited by an intimidating friend from the city and Michele is forced to share his room with the unwanted guest. This is the catalyst for Michele's rebellious streak to develop further and is the cause for a heated confrontation with his mother, Anna. Both parents are attentive to the needs of Michele and his younger sister, Maria, giving gifts and introducing games to see who has to fetch the wine for the table (a game that is revisited later in the film with horrific consequences) but you can sense a shift in mood with the arrival of Pino's intimidating visitor.

Dino Abbrescia provides a real intensity to his performance as Pino; wrestling with his parental
responsibilities and the uncompromising situation he finds himself in. Aitana Sanchez-Gijon shines as Anna, trying to hide her growing concern about the appearance of her husband's dangerous friends and struggling to contend with her son's new found defiance. With Michele's home life being disrupted in this manner it is no wonder he retreats to the fantasy world in his imagination, or the ramshackled farmhouse in which he makes his startling discovery, so often.

Vibrant strings collide with the buzz of crickets as the rousing score appears to harmonise with the natural sounds of the countryside. The stirring music lifts the film's key scenes by inducing a state of alertness in the audience; ushering in a playful urgency as characters flee from danger or a jubilant sense of freedom as children run wild in the fields. A recurring motif is strengthened as the film progresses and this serves to heighten the impact of the gripping denouement when its sorrowful melody strikes up for one last time. This is a soundtrack awash with music that delights and haunts in equal measure - a fitting partner to the tumultuous yet mesmerising events we witness on screen.


It is fascinating to see the actions of criminals interpreted by a young boy and traumatic to learn of the twisted lies they tell to another. There are some cruel and malicious men at the centre of this compelling mystery and this allows Michele's virtuous nature to illuminate the darkness he finds along his journey of discovery. The stunning vistas of the endless wheat fields are eerily reminiscent of the imagery we associate with the Elysian Fields. A revered place reserved for the virtuous and heroic in Greek mythology, and a place that seems like the perfect setting for Michele's brave and selfless deeds. With I'm Not Scared, Salvatores has crafted a sublime work of art; a captivating and suspenseful mystery full of wonder and danger that is delivered in a style befitting of the unforgettably poignant tale it presents.

If you take the time to watch I'm Not Scared then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!



For previous instalments in the series click here

Saturday, 10 August 2019

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 53. Billy Budd

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.


Billy Budd
Director - Peter Ustinov
Country - UK
Year 1962
Runtime - 123 minutes

Peter Ustinov was famed for his terrific performances in front of the camera but his stints behind the camera have sadly been largely forgotten. His crowning achievement as a film director is the remarkable tale of Billy Budd, a thrilling showdown of good versus evil set on tempestuous high seas when England and France were at war in the late 1700s. Terence Stamp stars in the titular role as a naive young sailor who is commandeered from the merchant ship he works upon by a passing British war ship. His innocent and charming ways make waves with his new crew but also bring unwanted attention from the cruel master at arms, John Claggart (Robert Ryan), who uses any excuse to punish his subordinates and delights in flogging repeat offenders.

Budd's frank and optimistic outlook on life is instantly endearing. He may not be the most intelligent sailor but the Bristol born lad is hard-working and it is clear that his heart is in the right place, leading us to understand why his previous captain was so reluctant to let him go. Stamp's superb portrayal of Budd earned the young thespian an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor, which is no mean feat when you consider it was his big screen debut alongside a number of well established and talent actors.

The interplay between Budd and Claggart is masterfully executed with both Stamp and Ryan delivering astonishing performances and lighting up the screen with their astute characterisations. Stamp's portrayal of Budd's optimism is a stark juxtaposition with Ryan's subdued take on the inherent evil that bubbles under the surface of Claggart. The scenes they share alone on the ship's deck at night offer a fascinating insight into the psychology of both characters whilst providing us with an unrivalled dramatic tension that has the power to leave audiences completely entranced.

The role of Captain Edwin Fairfax Vere is handled by Peter Ustinov, proving he was more than capable of tackling demanding performances alongside his duties as a director. Captain Vere's stoic and steadfast nature serves the crew well but he understands the need for Claggart's cruel practices to keep his men in line. When Billy and Claggart come to blows he is cornered in a very difficult position. Ustinov portrays the sobering effects this challenging predicament has on the captain with a real sense of anguish; he is torn between acting under the rules of the law, or on his and his officer's shared notion of justice.

Searing dramas where underlings question the authority of their leaders often explore the morality of the human condition. Billy Budd is a prime example of this and its storyline inspires hope as you are encouraged to empathise with Budd's plight. He tries to tackle the situation the only way he knows how - by acting with dignity and kindness - even when his fellow man is against him, and this places Budd in a precarious position.

By favouring small scale conflicts amongst a ship's crew over large scale swashbuckling set pieces, Billy Budd delivers a riveting human drama in a fascinating setting that still retains a grand sense of adventure. The acting is tremendous, the story is incredibly engaging, and the impressive cinematography of the ship traversing the ocean is utterly beguiling. This is a first rate British film that delivers plenty of thrills alongside the intricate and emotionally involving examination of ethics and righteousness. By the time the final scene fades into the distance you will have been on a heartwrenching and unforgettable journey that may even convince you to take stock of your own outlook on life.

If you take the time to watch Billy Budd then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!



For previous instalments in the series click here