Classiq - An online journal that celebrates cinema, culture, style and storytelling.

16 October 2017

The Beguiled: I’d Take the Original Any Time

I watched The Beguiled (1971) the evening before I went to Sofia Coppola’s remake, presented as part of the film festival Les Films de Cannes à Bucarest – already at its 8th edition, the event brings each fall to Bucharest the best films that premiered and won prizes earlier the same year at Cannes, along with previous winners.

I didn’t even want to consider going to see the remake without having viewed the original. Let me be clear. I almost never watch a remake, and if I do, I never watch it before seeing the original version. And I wouldn’t have gone to see Sofia Coppola’s The Beguiled at all if she had not won the Palme d’Or for directing. Why did she win the prize, anyway? It’s the question I’ve kept asking myself since I watched it.

But let’s start with Don Siegel’s movie. I was immediately won over by it, not in the least thanks to Clint Eastwood’s role as Union soldier John McBurney, too, which is among his best (and most atypical) roles. It is a dark psychological thriller with an underlying tension that you feel from the very beginning to the very end of the film, and the characters are beautifully built up – the great cast and their performances are largely responsible for the well-rounded characters. Each one of them seems to have something to hide or an ulterior motive, adding to the suspense – McBurney, wounded in a battle during the Civil War, is found by a little girl and brought to the seminary for young ladies in the Confederate South where she lives, and after he is initially kept under watch and locked in the school’s music room, he starts to bond with each of the women in the house.

Siegel’s film is placed entirely at an isolated girls’ school, but the weariness and ruination of the war are depicted through period photographs at the beginning of the movie. And the war permeates the entire film, through the conversations of the characters, as well as through the occasional passings-through of the soldiers. Oh, right, and in the 1971 film, there is also a slave, Hallie (Mae Mercer), with whom McBurney seeks common cause, saying: “You and I ought to be friends. We’re both kind of prisoners here.” Mae Mercer’s moments are very powerful, just as Clint’s. In other words, Don Siegel’s film is realistic, has a story to tell, and a heavy word at that. The over-all effect is startling, beguiling; the film stays with you.

Now, on to Coppola’s version. I would lie if I said I didn’t like anything at all about it. It has beautiful cinematography and great light, but this works both in its favour and against it. Sure, it’s beautiful to look at, but it looks more like a fairy tale than like a story taking place during the war. It just doesn’t make sense. I also liked the director’s choice not to use a score almost at all, and, in turn, relying on the natural sounds, which amplifies the feeling of isolation of the characters. But that’s about it I’m afraid.

All performances are below those in the 1971 film. There is no trace of Geraldine Page’s matriarchal vigour in Nicole Kidman; Colin Farrell lacks Eastwood’s malice, duplicity, and, well, yes, charm; Kirsten Dunst fails to transmit the innocent yet impetuous drive of Elizabeth Hartman; and Elle Fanning, unlike Jo Ann Harris, is more of an ethereal being than an expert in flirting. In fact, all dressed in white, Coppola’s girls all seem otherworldly, and when they do dress up for a dinner having the corporal as guest of honour, they truly go over the top with fancy clothes and jewellery. In Don Siegel’s film, the idea of dressing up (in order to capture the soldier’s attention) is merely a little more than a suggestion and resumes only to putting on a brooch to the dresses they wear daily. And, believe me, the impact is much more profound. Siegel’s girls go barefoot, working and digging in the garden alongside Hallie so that they can eat. Coppola’s are neatly dressed at all times and don’t seem to make any effort to provide for their food (there is no sign of the hardships of war), especially that they don’t have a slave either to do that for them. Yes, that’s right, Coppola got rid of that character, one of the most important and thought-provoking elements of the story. There is not much else related to the war either, so why she wanted to do a remake of this particular story when the effect she’s after is clearly far off such theme, I can not understand. In Coppola’s film, character and plot are swallowed up in mood and I am afraid that after the film ends, there is nothing you can take away from it.

photo: movie still from The Beguiled (1971) | Malpaso Company, Universal Pictures

Posted by classiq in Film | | Comments Off

12 October 2017

Cinema’s Most Stylish Tribes

As the saying goes, style runs in the family. In some cases, talent runs in the family, too. And there are those rare times when talent and style go together. And because here on Classiq we like to talk about films all day, every day, let’s turn our attention to my two favourite tribes in the film world.

I love the idea of cinema royalty. A family of talented directors/writers/actors stretching on at least two generations, who achieved greatness on screen. But I believe it was the real life foundations of those I talk about today that paved the way towards attempting to achieve perfection in their profession. Personal bearing and dressing well are part of that foundation. That said, I am going to mostly resume my writing to their lives and work, and let the images do most of the style talk.

The Hustons

“If there’s one thing I can say about my family, it’s they are genuinely who they are and are unapologetic about that. And they have a kind of ferocious love of life,” said Anjelica Huston in an interview. If you have read her memoir, this is exactly what her storytelling reflects. She shares straightforwardly who she is with a fair lack of awareness that her life growing up wasn’t like almost anyone else’s. She may indeed have had a privileged start in life, but she didn’t take this for granted and had to fight her way up. There was a long and rough journey from an aspiring, insecure actress in her twenties, to the reassuring one that she is now – Watch Me, the name of the second part of Anjelica’s autobiography, is, in fact, a dare: it comes from a story in the book, where somebody tells her that she is never going to do anything with herself. It must have been very satisfying, and rightfully so, for the one often referred to as John Huston’s daughter and Jack Nicholson’s lover at that time, to win the Oscar for best supporting actress for Prizzi’s Honour, the only one of the total number of eight the movie was nominated for, including Nicholson for best actor and John Huston for directing.

I’d like to continue to refer to the first part of the Anjelica Huston’s memoir, A Story Lately Told, because her irreverence, unconventional beauty, wit and sensitivity are reflected so well in her writing style. Her storytelling is charming in a quirky kind of way, and comes from a real and honest heart, from someone who has always shown true grit and never dwelled on her problems. And I also think the book is a father-daughter story: whether when describing how the house would come alive whenever John Huston was there or any other mention of their many a time turbulent relationship, those depictions of her father often seem to transcend the rest.

The son of the noted stage and screen actor Walter Huston, whom he directed in The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, for which both father and son won the Academy Award for supporting role and directing/screenwriting, respectively, John Huston remains one of the most intellingent and influential filmmakers in history. His creative output was impressive. He became an expert sportsman after he had spent much of his childhood as an invalid because he suffered from a weak heart. He did not finish high school, but he was a man of true genius. Playwright, stage and screen actor, director of plays on Broadway and an opera at La Scala, autobiographer and political activist who crusaded against McCarthy’s anti-communist witch hunts in Hollywood, discerning collector of art and connoisseur of literature, food and wine.

But, of course, this eccentric rebel of epic proportions reigned supreme as screenwriter (including for films not directed by him, like High Sierra, Jezebel, The Stranger and The Killers, for which he compressed Hemingway’s story to about 12 minutes and brilliantly used it as the jumping-off point for the invented backstory, told in flashback, and turned by Robert Siodmak into a landmark of film noir) and director (The Maltese Falcon, The Asphalt Jungle, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, The African Queen). Huston was a storyteller whose films were always both well conceived and strongly character-driven. Possibly best described as the Ernest Hemingway of directors, John Huston was a man whose “persona, ethos, prose style and virile code had a powerful influence on his life and work” (Jeffrey Meyers in the book John Huston: Courage and Art).

Walter, John and Anjelica are not the only ones in the Huston clan working in film. Tony Huston, Anjelica’s brother, is an actor, writer and assistant director, and Danny, Anjelica’s half-brother, is also an actor, writer and director.

The Fondas

Henry Fonda remains one of the greatest actors in history, and one of my favourites, and his Tom Joad in John Ford’s The Grapes of Wrath is one of the great American movie characters. Fonda was one of the most natural actors, with the rare ability to exist on the screen without seeming to try, his silences reaching out to the viewer with the same force as his spoken words – in The Grapes of Wrath it is, in fact, his body language, so disturbingly and unforgettably precise, that seems to have a more arresting impact than his lines. In Hitchcock’s The Wrong Man, Henry Fonda was “perfect, very natural and as authentic as any man on the street” (the film was inspired from real events and used people involved in the story or unprofessional actors whenever possible), as Truffaut himself says in his book, Hitchcock/Truffaut. But it was also Fonda’s role in Once Upon A Time in the West that I took particular joy in, because he was cast against type. He had never played a villain before. He raised to and surpassed the challenge.

Henry and Jane Fonda did not have the best father-daughter relationship, which Jane reportedly often called distant. Somehow, you find it hard to believe when you see how much Jane resembles her father physically. “My father was a loner. He was not a Hollywood insider and he never talked about the business with us, so I never learned or understood that this business is built on relationships,” she was explaining in a Hollywood Reporter interview. She added that the only actor who ever taught her much about life, more than acting, was Katharine Hepburn in On Golden Pond. “Even though I did the movie for my dad, I produced it, who I learned from was Hepburn. I was 45 when I made that movie, and it was she who taught me to be self-conscious. I used to think that was a bad thing, but that means being conscious of the self you project to the public; having a persona, a style, a presence. I had none of that. I didn’t know how to dress! When I went onstage for my father at the Oscars, because he was too sick, I couldn’t believe how I looked and how I was dressed. I never paid attention. Hepburn taught me to pay attention and that style is important.”

I believe however that the foundation for style had, maybe unawaringly, already been laid. Not only had Jane already established herself as a talented and authentic actress, opiniated woman and human rights activist, but as a woman of innate elegance, too. In 1978, Jane Fonda came to the Cannes Film Festival to champion Hal Ashby’s Coming Home. She was photographed by the Traverso family, the famous family of photographers who have documented the festival for decades, and whose work was published in the book Cannes Cinema: A visual history of the world’s greatest film festival. The book also captures one of the most apt descriptions of Jane: “Her unequivocal opinions against the war and in favour of the feminist movement were well known. But her appeal lay above all in her elegance and her smile. She had the authenticity of an actress completely in control of her art.”

The defiance that infused Jane’s persona clearly echoed with that of her brother, Peter, after he co-wrote (with Dennis Hopper and Terry Southern) and starred in the legendary film Easy Rider, which depicts the role of the self-proclaimed rebel in a conformist society. The younger generation in the Fonda family includes Jane’s son, Troy Garrity, and Peter’s daughter, Bridget Fonda, one of cinema’s it-girl in the 1990s.

photos: 1-John Huston on the set, 1970s / 2-John and Anjelica Huston on the set of “Sinful Davey”, 1968 / 3-Anjelica Huston and Wes Anderson by Laura Wilson, on the set of “The Royal Tenenbaums / 4-John and Walter Huston on the set of “A Passenger to Bali”, 1940 / 5-John Huston on the set of “The Night of the Iguana”, 1964 / 6-John Huston and Kirk Douglas on the set of “The List of Adrian Messenger”, 1963 / 7,9-Jane and Henry Fonda by Leonard McCombe, 1959 / 8-Jane, Peter and Henry Fonda by Paul Slade, 1963 / 10-Jane Fonda on the set of “Les félins”, 1964 / 11-Henry Fonda in The Grapes of Wrath, 1940 / 12-Jane Fonda by Bob Willoughby, on the set of “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?”, 1969 | special credit goes to The Red List, for their extensive, first rate archive of photographs

Posted by classiq in Film, Style | | Comments Off

9 October 2017

Zack Carr: One of Fashion’s Unsung Heroes

Balenciaga and Chanel were his mentors. Among the women who inspired him, which he named “his girls” – including Romy Schneider, Isabella Rossellini, Audrey Hepburn, Tippi Hedren, Vivian Leigh, Jean Seberg, Georgia O’Keeffe and Grace Coddington – he mentioned his “imaginary women”, too. His favourite films were Jules et Jim, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Lawrence of Arabia, Cinema Paradiso, Blow Up, Vertigo, The Birds, Rear Window. All of the above are more than reason enough for me to like someone.

For nearly three decades, Zack Carr was the creative director of Calvin Klein. “For many years Zack Carr was inextricable in my mind from Calvin Klein. This gentle, industrious, and brilliantly creative man never searched for the limelight,” said Anna Wintour. He played a big part in the creation of the “Calvin Klein” style and his work there influenced a generation of designers and helped put America on the world fashion map. And he did all that from behind the scenes. As if I needed another reason to like the man.

The book Zack Carr (by the way, this is one of those books you should not judge by its jacket, which I often do, and rightfully so I may add – I fail to understand the choice of a poor book jacket that hides a great cover, like in this case), authored by his brother, George Carr, with forward by Bruce Weber, sheds some light over the designer’s huge talent, his passion for and his importance in fashion. But, more than that, it is a personal scrapbook, a collection of sketches, personal writings and photographs that tell the story of a genuine artist and bigger than life person. I wish it went deeper into details, because Zack Carr’s life and accomplishments are worth telling, but I guess the author wanted to stay true to the concept of a sketchbook, which Zack considered a true expression of himself.

“Fashion, like every profession, has its unsung heroes: men and women who
create, inspire, and generally make the world a better place even if most people
have never heard of them. Zack Carr was one of those heroes. As the ultimate insider,
he had an incredible breadth of knowledge and history, which was reflected in the magnificent drawings he effortlessly produced on a daily basis. His work at Calvin
Klein influenced a generation of designers and helped give American fashion
the importance it now has. And he always conducted himself like the
Southern gentleman he was – with charm, wit, and an amazing generosity.”
Patrick McCarthy

“I first met Zack in the very early days at Calvin Klein, where he was very much
part of that brilliant new design studio. Calvin and his team did all the clothes for me
for two films. I got to see Zack’s immense talent at work over and over again.
I think that he had a big part in the creation of the look that is “Calvin Klein”
– the elegance, the color sense, the timelessness, the modernity.
But what I think of above all, when I think of my friend Zack, is the quality
of human being he was: tremendously talented, of course, but kind and funny
and decent and humble. He was a shining star in a particular world that
so often produces ego and competitiveness before humanity.” Ali MacGraw

photos by me from the book Zack Carr

Posted by classiq in Books, Fashion | | Comments Off

5 October 2017

One Day That Summer: Rome

This past summer I started a series of collaborations with photographers to bring you exclusive stories behind the lens. Titled One Day That Summer, the project was designed to be a celebration of summer, an invitation to discovery, to open your mind and eyes, to live life like you stole it. Given the great response I had from the wonderful photographers I have approached, for which I am very grateful, and unwilling to let summer go, I am carrying the series on.

My guest today is photographer Nicolee Drake, a California girl living in Rome, the city that I love the most. The glowing light and the entire feel of Nicolee’s photograph shown above stir up memories from the time I spent in Rome in a way that does not often happen when I view images of the Eternal City, not even my own. It encompasses Rome’s magnificence and history, its intangible and timeless atmosphere, but also its living-in-the-moment attitude and approachable charm – there is no other place where ancient and contemporary work together in such perfect harmony. Therein lies the beauty of Nicolee’s photography: her visual stories go beyond the big picture, and remind us that the soul of a photograph is in the details, in the subtle meanings it is infused with, and in the emotions that go into making it. I talked to Nicolee about the place she has come to call home, the magical light of Rome, and the city’s creative force.

“I think it’s important to remember
to be in-the-moment sometimes
as not to miss out on the human experience.”

Why Rome? What inspired you to move to Rome? Would you do it all over again?
It all happened very fast. I bumped into a guy on a street corner and next thing I knew, I was living in Rome. Yes, I would do it all over again, only next time I’d ask for directions.

You are a California girl who has been living in Rome since 2009. Where have you felt most at home? Do you think it’s important to feel that you belong to one particular place?
I’ve considered many places home at one time or another, but I feel most content wherever I’ve planted my roots. I grew up traveling, so I’m comfortable being on the road and finding a sense of home wherever I am at a particular moment. Constant travel and moving around is equal parts exhilarating and disorienting, so I think it’s important to give a place significance. I can’t say that Rome is the one place above all others, but by now, it’s part of my DNA and where I belong. It’s home.

How has Rome influenced you creatively?
Rome is a collage of ancient and contemporary against a cinematic backdrop. Its meandering streets and alleyways lead you from one dramatic scene to another; from ruined fragments in hidden piazzas to the maelstrom of scooter traffic, to scenes of everyday life amid imposing architecture. It has a rhythm in which every element works together in aesthetic harmony to form an exquisite, timeless beauty. It’s hard not to find inspiration here.

If you could capture the essence of Rome in one sentence, how would you describe it?
Rome is unpredictable; it’s where beauty and tradition meet chaos and contradiction.

What led you to photography?
I’ve had a lifelong interest in photography. My first camera was an old Nikkormat FT film camera that I used to carry around with me everywhere, documenting everything. I can vividly picture my first photographs with that camera. I eventually came back to photography when I moved to Rome, using it as a way of exploring and learning about my new city, and I’ve been photographing full-time ever since.

Do you always carry a camera with you?
I always have my iPhone handy, so when I don’t have my camera with me, I still seldom miss a moment.

Take or make a photograph? Do you wait for a good photo? Are there times when you simply witness the moment without taking/making any picture?
Make. As the saying goes, “good things come to those who wait.” Sometimes a photograph comes to you, and sometimes you just have to be patient and wait for it. And, yes, I think it’s important to remember to be in-the-moment sometimes as not to miss out on the human experience.

Does Italy have the best light? What is your favourite moment of the day for shooting? Do you swear by the golden hour?
Italy has beautiful light, but Rome’s light, in particular, is magical. I am especially fond of the light just before sunset, but I also enjoy the gaining light just after sunrise. Golden hour is, of course, ideal, but I don’t think one should be limited to photographing during a particular time of day. I believe that it’s important to be creative with any available light for any given scenario.

What do you never get tired of photographing in Rome?
By now, I’ve covered a lot of Rome, so I try to take new routes to see things from different perspectives. The frenetic pace of life keeps me on my toes anticipating new situations, but I also love visiting quiet familiar places like the bridge at Castel Sant’Angelo at sunset. Its splendor never gets old.

If you could be anywhere in the world right now (old or new location), preparing to shoot, where would you want to be?
Antarctica, Siberia, and Lapland. Can I pick all three? It might be worth mentioning that I dislike the cold.

Website: Cucina Digitale | Instagram: @cucinadigitale

Posted by classiq in Interviews, Journeys, One day that summer, Photography | | Comments Off

30 September 2017

Autumn on Screen

The show of the changing leaves, the preppy look,
the back-to-school atmosphere

There is no other time like autumn for travelling, especially by car. The weather cools, the roads are empty, and the spectacle of the fall foliage makes any drive even more attractive. But there is also the calmness and comfort of settling into a routine, the back-to-school feeling, and the long, quiet evenings spent at home as the days are drawing in that I love just as much in the fall. With its scenery blanketed in changing leaves, the musky smell of rain, the golden afternoon glow and the tweed jackets, autumn is a season that also lends itself to captivating storytelling, timeless style and gorgeous cinematography. So here are some of fall’s greatest on-screen moments (these are all examples of movies when I prefer colour to black and white).

Far from the Madding Crowd (1967)
Directed by: John Schlesinger
Cinematography: Nicolas Roeg

Cinematography is a key storytelling tool in John Schlesinger’s film adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s 19th century romantic novel. The forces of nature are used to echo the emotional state of the characters, as the narration unfolds under the English autumn sky, on the backdrop of the picturesque rural countryside and an earthy, rusty palate. But however beautiful a visual depiction of life on the farm the film may be, I wish it depicted the real significance of the characters, not just show them as romantic lovers. And there is also that movie still of Julie Christie, as seen above, which, if it were a painting it would have been entitled to be named “Autumn”, so I had to include the film here.

The Trouble with Harry (1955)
Directed by: Alfred Hitchcock
Cinematography: Robert Burks

“With Harry, I took the melodrama out of the pitch-black night and brought in out in the sunshine,” said Hitchcock. I am very fond of this black comedy of his. In the rural countryside of Vermont, on a fall day, three shots are heard. A little boy playing in the woods discovers the body of a man, who, upon investigation, turns out to be Harry. Several people in the community believe they may be responsible for his accidental death, and adding to the confusion, Harry keeps showing up in all the splendour of rigor mortis at the most embarrassing moments. Alfred Hitchcock’s jet black humour plays out beautifully against the fleeting leaves. They say New England leaf viewing is at its finest in Vermont – in fact, Hitchcock’s crew arrived too late to catch autumnal Vermont in its prime, so they were forced to glue fallen leaves back onto the branches.

One of the best lines, according to Hitch himself, is when old Edmund Gwen is dragging the body along for the first time and a woman comes up to him on the hill and says: “What seems to be the trouble, Captain?”

Rushmore (1998)
Directed by: Wes Anderson
Cinematography: Robert Yeoman

Rushmore is “at once arch and earnest, knowing and innocent,” says Matt Zoller Seitz in the book The Wes Anderson Collection. I think therein lies its beauty. Rushmore may be my favourite Anderson film. As soon as that opening scene rolled in (you watch Max Fischer completing “probably the hardest geometry equation in the world”, but soon realise he’s only dreaming), I just knew I was going to love it. Jason Schwartzman’s Max Fisher adds an edge to prep school sites. His grades are the worst in school, but he excels at extracurricular activities. Wes Anderson said in an interview in the aforementioned book that the idea of Max putting on the plays was from his own experience, but that the character is a combination of things from Owen Wilson’s (the movie’s co-screenwriter) life and his, though mostly it was from their imagination. “They don’t start out demanding that we adore Max simply because he’s the main character, nor do they indulge in the usual feel-good Hollywood mechanics capped by an eleventh-hour conversion of Max into a boring saint,” says Zoller Seitz. But what is most important is that Jason Schwartzman truly owns his Max Fischer. Max owns that school uniform, too, by the way. He rocks the formal blazer even when he is banished to the public school across the street, and through the humiliation that follows.

Best line: “I saved Latin. What did you ever do?” (Max Fischer)

Days of Heaven (1978)
Directed by: Terrence Malick
Cinematography: Nestor Almendros/Haskell Wexler

Terrence Malick has created some of the most visually arresting films in the history of cinema. Days of Heaven is one of the most beautiful films ever made, having set a new standard in cinema aesthetics. The collision of loneliness, human suffering or violence with natural beauty is one of the distinctive elements of Malick’s film-making style. He chose the endless Texas prairies as the natural backdrop for Days of Heaven. In the first hour, there is scarcely an indoor scene, and the film was frequently shot at the “golden hour”, that magical time for photography, near dawn and dusk. The credit for cinematography goes to Nestor Almendros, who won an Oscar for the film. But there is also a small credit at the end of the movie to Haskell Wexler for additional photography.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)
Directed by: Alfonso Cuarón
Cinematography: Michael Seresin

Like all the films in the series, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban covers one full school year – it’s one of the reasons why I love the Harry Potter films. And I love Hogwarts – during a Q&A with Ethan Hawke at the American Independent Film Festival which I recently attended, the actor mentioned that there is nothing else that he’d rather do instead of film, but added that he loves the Harry Potter series, which he watches with his daughter, and that if a place like Hogwarts existed, he wished he were cool enough to go there. That about sums it up for me, too. But what I particularly love about this third film in the franchise is that it is quite possibly the bleakest, most visually striking, and, yes, the best of them all. Harry’s world has grown darker and more menacing – The Prisoner of Azkaban is pivotal in Rowling’s cycle, as it’s the turning point when the existence of a darker side is acknowledged.

Not only does Cuarón’s Harry Potter world do justice to J.K. Rowling’s vision, but he rises up to her soaring imagination, too – the film pulls you in; you can feel this fantastic world, and that’s also thanks to the beautiful cinematography of Michael Seresin. I could watch this any time of the year, but I think it should be saved for those dark November evenings foretelling even darker winter nights to come. Just as The Prisoner of Azkaban foretells even darker things to come for Harry Potter.

Best line: “A child’s voice, however honest and true, is meaningless to those who’ve forgotten how to listen.” (Dumbledore)

Hannah and Her Sisters (1986)
Directed by: Woody Allen
Cinematography: Carlo Di Palma

In Woody Allen’s own words, the film has a simple plot about a man falling in love with his wife’s sister. The director described it as one of his “novels on film” – he had reread Anna Karenina and wanted to experiment with a novelistic style, intertwining various characters and stories. “I have a tremendous attraction to movies or plays or books that explore the psyches of women, particularly intelligent ones. I rarely think in terms of male characters,” Allen said. He likened Hannah’s (the most complex and enigmatic of the sisters) silent strength to that of Al Pacino’s Michael in The Godfather.

The filmmaker collaborated for the first time with Antonioni’s cinematographer, Carlo Di Palma, on this project, and began shooting in the fall of 1984 in New York City, using Farrow’s real-life apartment as Hannah’s home in the film. Di Palma’s ravishing autumn colours of Manhattan (the narrative goes throughout the course of two years and three Thanksgivings) are a highlight of the film and the movie itself is another one of Woody Allen’s love letters to the city of his heart (however realistic or unrealistic his view of NYC may be). That image of Hannah, Lee and Holly, on the poster of the film (one of those very rare occasions when the picture of the actors on the poster of the film has a lasting impression on the viewer), all dressed in camel and other shades of browns, I always associate with fall. On a side note, Hannah and Her Sisters is one of my favourite Allen movies from his early period (Match Point is my favourite from his recent filmography).

Best line: “For all my education, accomplishments, and so-called wisdom, I can’t fathom my own heart.” (Elliot)

Endnotes:
Hitchcock Truffaut , by François Truffaut

The Wes Anderson Collection , by Matt Zoller Seitz

Woody Allen: A Retrospective, by Tom Shone

photos: screenstills from “Far from the Madding Crowd”, 1967 (MGM) / “The Trouble with Harry”, 1955 (Alfred J. Hitchcock Productions) / “Rushmore”, 1998 (American Empirical Pictures/Touchstone Pictures) / “Days of Heaven”, 1978 (Paramount Pictures) / “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban”, 2004 (Warner Brothers) / “Hannah and Her Sisters”, 1986 (Orion Pictures, Jack Rollins & Charles H. Joffe Productions)

Posted by classiq in Film | | Comments Off