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I’M DREAMING OF A NOIR CHRISTMAS…

SIN CITY
(Dimension Home Video) 2005. 124 mins & 147 mins. 1:85:1 SR, modified to fit 16X9 monitor screens.
Two versions: theatrical release, and re-cut, extended and unrated chronological version. Commentaries with Robert Rodriguez, Frank Miller, Quentin Tarantino, and a test audience from Austin, Texas.
Several short pieces, of the green screen work, of Tarantino’s segment uninterrupted, the cast/crew party, cooking school with Rodriguez (was he doing craft services in addition to all his other credits?), the costumes of SIN CITY, etc.
Plus the SIN CITY Graphic Novel.

How nice, to have Noir Xmas 2005. No particular reason – things in the world are going so questionably, why shouldn’t he find solace in a pessimistic cinematic universe?

Well, for whatever arcane reasons, we are. And chief among the films of darkness are two SIN CITIES + a Graphic Novel, all in one black package with red typeface. Our best ensemble performance of the year is contained within these discs. Thanks to Rodriguez, Miller, Tarantino, and Greg Nicotero, the look, movements, and thesping of a large, diverse cast are all of a piece. One of the supplements – a 14 minute take of Tarentino working on his segment, is a brilliant teaching tool, as elementally diverse actors are brought into line for the ensemble continuity of the project.
Rourke leads the pack, and that walk of his, coat flowing behind, is the memorable image of ’05. His 44 minute story is the standout, but all four are excellent. You don’t know what to applaud first…the art direction or the animation overlays. One thing’s for sure, the strategic splashes of color – someone’s blue eyes, someone’s red lipstick, Rutger Hauer’s green eyes, a little geyser of blood – emphasize why deep blacks made film noir so sexy. Better than a woman…better than chocolate mousse…better than gray tones. Better than any other genre, for my money. And there are plenty more this holiday season.

Lunatic Noir is a term for the errant noir that goes over the hill, wallowing in portrayals so eccentric, angles so arch, narratives so far removed from all other narrative forms, that they need a little category all their own. Like KISS ME DEADLY, perhaps. Like ROMEO IS BLEEDING. Like MR. ARKADIN perhaps. Like SIN CITY. And apparently it’s done fabulously, because SIN CITY 2 is on the way.

Credits:
Directed, shot and edited by Robert Rodriguez.
Co-directed by Frank Miller, Quentin Tarantino.
Special Makeup effects by KNB Studios.
With: Mickey Rourke, Bruce Willis, Jessica Alba, Clive Owen, Rosario Dawson, Benicio Del Toro, Elijah Wood, Michael Madsen.

TALES OF HOFFMANN
(Criterion) 1951. 127 mins. Technicolor. 1.33:1 AR.
Audio Commentary by director Martin Scorsese and historian Bruce Eder.
Video interview with George Romero.
Contains THE SORCERER’S APPRENTICE (1956), a short musical film directed by Michael Powell.
Collection of Production Designer Hein Heckroth’s sketches and paintings.
Photo and Production gallery.
Essay by film historian Ian Christie.

D’ya ever think of Offenbach’s operetta as Film Noir? He envisioned it for some medium other than the stage. And it was full of femme fatales, an artist taking a dive for love, evil geniuses pulling the strings, a world that was not what we took it for, and the true blacks of Technicolor.

Powell and Pressburger, high on the baffling worldwide (except for the UK, where it was produced) success of THE RED SHOES, went overboard with HOFFMANN, eschewing popular narrative entirely for two hours of imagery sculpted to fit the prerecorded track. The dancers and singers chosen for the many parts were terrific faces and bodies attached to theatrical mindsets. Ludmila Tcherina could out-gesture Lugosi. Helpmann, in four insidious roles, was the juiciest of villains. Moira Shearer, Hitchcock-cold as Hoffman’s love-doll satisfied him long before porno shops started peddling the inflatable kind. And the third love is just okay, and goes on too long, but Powell loved it (read his autobiography).

This and THE RED SHOES were valuable for all sorts of reasons, not least of which was that they took these remarkable performers who, previously, would have been known only to ballet aficionados, and sprinkled them liberally over the world’s movie-going audiences. Moira Shearer did not take advantage of her blaze of fame, thinking film beneath her. Helpmann did quite the opposite, much to our eternal benefit.

One downside is the inability of the resources brought to bear in the British Film Institute restoration to correct Technicolor matrices mis-allignments. We’ll have to live with that occasional glaring registration problem until new methodologies correct the flaw.

Credits:
Written, Produced and Directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger.
Based upon the opera by Jacques Offenbach. Music Director, Sir Thomas Beecham. Production Design, Hein Heckroth.
Director of Photography, Christopher Challis.
Art Director, Arthur Lawson.
Editor, Reginald Mills.
Choreography, Frederick Ashton.
With: Robert Rounseville, Pamela Brown, Moira Shearer, Ludmila Tcherina, Edmond Audron, Robert Helpmann, Leonide Massine, Ann Ayars, Frederick Ashton.

GLORIOUS TECHNICOLOR
(Fred E. Basten) 2005. 284 pages.

A 90th year celebration re-issue of this 1980 coffee-table book has much to recommend it: primarily that it finally got the illustrations right. The last edition had pallid color plates that didn’t even approximate AnscoColor. The new edition, 70 pages longer, and chocked full of color illustrations, gets perhaps a third of them right, and that’s a colossal step in the right direction. In addition, it’s a thorough walk through the birth of Technicolor, covering many of the films that flaunted its glories, discussing the departure of the process in the mid-seventies, and following the continued work by Technicolor Laboratories in strategic locations around the world. Back in the 40s they used to applaud the color, believe it or not. This big book may help you understand why, and why, even with today’s superb color renderings on Eastman stock, we’ve lost something precious with 3-strip Technicolor’s demise.

SCARLET STREET

(Kino On Video) 1945. 101 mins.
Audio commentary by David Kalat.
Photo Gallery including images of deleted scenes.
Directed by Fritz Lang.
Screenplay by Dudley Nichols. A remake of Renoir’s LA CHIENNE (1931).
Director of Photography – Milton Krasner.
With: Edward G. Robinson, Joan Bennett, Dan Duryea.

I was tempted to turn this one off. For the first half hour it was threatening to be an American retread of THE BLUE ANGEL, plus there was something off-putting about Lang’s use of pacing and space.

Then it suddenly turned around. I stuck with it. And it turned again, and again. Eventually I had no idea where it was headed, and I was enjoying every minute of it.

David Kalat, the commentary trackster, says Lang declared it his favorite American-made film. But I’ve read/heard elsewhere that he assigned that favor to others of his titles. I guess the guy was mercurial.

Despite this having been a Universal Picture, it apparently had fallen into public domain, there to surface over the years as a deplorable, degraded dupe, and was in desperate need of the Library of Congress restoration it received. Except for a mismatched shot or two, where highlights seem over-lit, it’s a rich noir delight, luxuriating in its deep blacks and lush studio ambiance.

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