Keane (2004; Lodge Kerrigan) - 8.5/10
An utterly fascinating character study of a man suffering from mental illness (perhaps schizophrenia), drug addiction, and who may or may not have lost his daughter. With its constant, claustrophobic close-ups, Keane reminds me of Dreyer's Passion of Joan of Arc. Much like that film, the close-ups disorient us spatially from everything around Keane, so we're totally focused on his subjective experiences. However, Keane also has his moments of sanity where he meets a down-on-her-luck neighbor and that neighbor's young daughter. Much of the film concerns Keane's growing relationship with the daughter, and one of the superb features of the film is that we, as an audience, are completely unaware of how that relationship will unfold. This is because Kerrigan has written the character with such a complex volatility that we're never sure if and when we're going to encounter the mentally unstable Keane versus the loving, caring, kind Keane. Obviously, none of this would've been possible without the riveting, Oscar-worthy performance of Damian Lewis, who was unjustly snubbed by The Academy. Altogether an extraordinary effort, and one of the most unique, rewarding films to come out of the last 10 years of independent cinema.
L' Enfant Sauvage (1970; Francois Truffaut) - 7/10
A bit of a departure for Truffaut, this film has an austerity to its granitic cinematography that reminds one of the films of Bresson, or even Straub, while still retaining Truffaut's warmth, humor, and humanity. The film is based on the true story of a feral child found in the forests of late 18th century France, and the teacher--played by Truffaut himself--who attempts to civilize and educate him. Most of the film deals with that education, its successes and failures. Perhaps the film's strongest trait is Truffaut's progressive humanizing of the child they come to call Victor. However, there is a strange lack of resolution at the film's end, which could perhaps be called a trademark of Truffaut's cinema, but which doesn't work as well here as opposed to in, say, The 400 Blows.
Pauline at the Beach (1983; Eric Rohmer) - 9/10
This was my 9th Rohmer film, yet every time I watch him I'm surprised by how utterly strange and unique his rhythms are, and how he can make substantial visual cinema while drowning his films in overtly expositional dialogue. Yet I'm equally struck by how quickly I sink into those rhythms, and how quickly I'm aware of the counterpoint between the (often luscious) visuals and the complex, contradictory, even hypocritical lives of his characters. This film concerns a young girl of 15, Pauline, who is being watched by her older cousin, Marion (a stunningly gorgeous Arielle Dombasl) on vacation where they meet two men vying for Marion's affections, the younger Pierre whom loves Marion, and the older playboy Henri. The film begins as if the vacation will be about Pauline learning about love from Marion, yet all she learns is how stupid and hypocritical adults can be when it comes to love. In typical Rohmer fashion, plot is nearly non-existent, as he's not concerned about what people do but why they do it. This film is one of his best reflections on the irrationality of human behavior with its extremely well-written, subtle, very-human characters and gorgeous cinematography courtesy of the great Nestor Almendros (who also shot L'Enfant Savauge, funnily enough).
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Originally Posted by Hawg Horse
