A deep dive into metaphor in mother! on CineVerse

So, you’re interested in a lavish art-house film with some top-tier talent, did you say? Well, check out one of our recent discussions of Darren Aronofsky’s “mother!” on CineVerse right here. 

As our moderator, Erik Martin writes, “In 2017, Darren Aronofsky opened a disturbing Pandora’s box he called “mother!,” a psychological and surreal horror film that delves into the life of a young woman (Jennifer Lawrence), residing with her husband (Javier Bardem) in a rural and secluded mansion. Their peaceful existence takes a tumultuous turn when an enigmatic couple, embodied by Ed Harris and Michelle Pfeiffer, unexpectedly enters their lives. As tensions mount and the intrusive behavior of the visitors escalates, the woman's once-serene life descends into chaos. Complementing the leads are memorable supporting performances from Domhnall Gleeson, Brian Gleeson, and Kristen Wiig. 

The movie's provocative and polarizing nature has further contributed to its enduring reputation. While some viewers admire its audaciousness and thematic complexity, others find it polarizing, viewing it as either pretentious or disturbing.

It Happened One Night on CineVerse

They don’t make movie stars the way they used to, and if you want to see one the greatest, check out any of Clark Gable’s films. You’ll see why they used to call him the King of Hollywood. While today people will immediately think of him as Rhett Butler in “Gone With the Wind,” two of my favorite Gable films are “It Happened One Night” and “Red Dust.” So, it just happens that you can check out our CineVerse discussion of “It Happened One Night” right here.

 

As CineVerse moderator Erik Martin writes, They don’t come much more timeless or beloved than It Happened One Night, directed by Frank Capra, produced by Harry Cohn for Columbia Pictures, and released in 1934—90 years ago this week. The film follows the escapades of Ellie Andrews, a wealthy socialite portrayed by Claudette Colbert, who flees from her domineering father to elope with a fortune-seeking playboy. Along her journey, she encounters Peter Warne, a recently fired newspaper journalist played by Clark Gable. Recognizing Ellie, Peter offers assistance in exchange for an exclusive story, leading to a mismatched duo embarking on a cross-country adventure filled with comedic mishaps and burgeoning affection. 

Set against the backdrop of the Great Depression, the film was crafted during a challenging era for Columbia Pictures, a minor studio competing with Hollywood giants like MGM and Paramount. Despite initial reluctance from Capra, who ultimately secured creative control, the production encountered obstacles including budget constraints and artistic disagreements. Nevertheless, It Happened One Night triumphed as both a critical and commercial success. The memorable performances of Colbert and Gable, coupled with their on-screen chemistry and impeccable comedic timing, solidified the film's enduring popularity. 

This picture remains evergreen for delving into topics such as class privilege, socioeconomic disparities, and the universal quest for happiness—messages that particularly struck a chord with audiences of this hardscrabble era. Its examination of these themes, presented with both levity and depth, imbued the film with substance and raised it above the rank of frivolous entertainment expected from a romantic comedy for 1934. 

Ponder that this is likely the best comedy that Gable and Colbert, individually, have ever starred in and quite possibly their finest performances, as evidenced by the fact that It Happened One Night is the only film each ever won an acting Oscar for. Although it was already his 13th directed film in the sound era, It Happened One Night is also the feature that made the world take notice of Capra, his first in a successful run of crowd-pleasing movies that the filmmaker crafted in the 1930s for Columbia. 

 

Exercising "Diplomacy" on CineVerse

If you want to check out another excellent film discussion on CineVerse, click right here! As Erik Martin, the moderator of our discussions writes of this gripping World War II docudrama, "Fair warning: The 2014 film Diplomacy, a French historical drama helmed by director Volker Schlöndorff and adapted from Cyril Gély's play of the same title, is one of those “based loosely on historical events” dramatizations that can infuriate scholars and historians. Nevertheless, even if it fudges the facts, it’s a compelling drama that unfolds against the backdrop of Nazi-occupied Paris in 1944, chronicling the efforts of Swedish diplomat Raoul Nordling, portrayed by André Dussollier, to dissuade General Dietrich von Choltitz—the German military governor of Paris, played by Niels Arestrup—from executing Adolf Hitler's directive to annihilate Paris before the Allies' arrival.

Dussollier and Arestrup deliver arresting performances, infusing their characters with depth and authenticity, while Schlöndorff's direction and the film's cinematography capture the tension and complexities of the narrative, effectively portraying the intricate negotiations and ethical dilemmas faced by the protagonists.

A film both deceptively simple and complex on CineVerse

Check out another one of our recent CineVerse discussions, this time taking a journey into French cinema. As Erik Martin, our host writes: Céline Sciamma, acclaimed director of Portrait of a Lady on Fire, followed up that critical darling with another standout French work, Petite Maman (2021), which means “little mom.” Starring wonderfully precocious twin sister actresses, the movie has received acclaim for its emotional richness, subtle storytelling, and examination of intricate themes. Sciamma's skilled direction, along with compelling performances and a heartfelt narrative, has earned it kudos as a memorable cinematic text that connects with audiences through its genuine and poignant depiction of relationships. 

Click here listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of this film, conducted last week. 

Among the distinctive, memorable, and surprising facets of Petite Maman is the fact that this could very well be a science fiction film. It’s easy to assume that eight-year-old Nelly is a lonely but intensely creative and imaginative kid who fantasizes these encounters with her mother, who has suddenly appeared as a playmate of the same age. But consider that we see her father interact with and acknowledge young Marion, and he allows Nelly to stay one more day at the house after agreeing to let the girls enjoy a sleepover. Also, recall that young Marion tells Nelly “I’m already thinking about you”; at the film’s conclusion, Nelly and Marion call each other by their real names and there seems to be an innate understanding by the characters, and the audience, that adult Marion has been positively affected by Nelly’s time travel experience. 

The casual but direct way that the filmmakers suddenly introduce the notion of time travel and fantasy, without explaining how or why it’s happening, is remarkable. Without exposition, we and Nelly are unexpectedly thrust into the past, and visual cues—like the grandmother’s wallpaper and bathroom tile—inform us, without fanfare, that a magically impossible journey is occurring. 

Regardless of how fantastically you interpret the story, this is one of the best family films and movies about childhood released in the 21st Century, a work that can appeal to any age but that can prove particularly relevant to adults who need to be reminded of the wonders and mysteries of childhood and what we can learn from our youthful pasts. “(Petite Maman) immerses us into the world of childhood where magic and dreams and the impossible are all still possible, before the world has beaten it out of us. It evokes the ethos of Supertramp’s 1979 “The Logical Song,” which is all about how the world doesn’t just expect, but demands that everything that is wonderful about childhood be left behind in favor of rigor and logic…(it) celebrates that space where everything is still wonderful, a miracle, beautiful, and magical,” said critic James Kendrick.

The Cineverse Podcasts: Breathless

For just over a month now, I had the pleasure of taking part in the weekly podcasts of the CineVerse film discussion group, run by Erik J. Martin who produces the superb Cineversary podcasts commemorating the anniversaries of major films that have had an impact on American and world cinema. I had been a guest on Erik's Cineversary podcasts before for the 50th anniversaries of "Easy Rider" and "The Last Picture Show." So I was definitely excited to join this group of film devotes to discuss an eclectic collection of films, both major blockbusters and small independent films, American films as well as films from around the world. I will be putting up a series of links to the various films we had analyzed recently.

In a bit of a backward order as I'm catching up on blogging, this is the link to our recent discussion of French filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard's seminal 1960 film "Breathless," starring Jean-Paul Belmondo and Jean Seberg. The film is recognized as one of the major works giving rise to the French New Wave movement.

Check out the discussion and by all means watch "Breathless." The film is definitely a unique experience, and one I recommend to people and film students to see how they react. Truth be told, it's not a film I greatly enjoy viewing, yet one that needs to be understood and appreciated as an interesting artifact of a certain time and culture. Volumes had been written about "Breathless" and Godard, so suffice it to say here that the film is an odd, intellectual experience. It's very raison d'être is to break cinematic rules, to defy conventions. To that end, the film is full of jarring editing techniques, dialogue, and plot twists and turns that are designed to confuse and confound its viewers. There are moments where the story rushes along at a hyper-paced clip, using a series of off-putting jump cuts, and then there is a very, very long and slow, plodding scene of the two main characters are stuck in an apartment, reciting dialogue that is often confusing and meandering. Overall, the film is forcing its audience to engage with it, to think about what it wants to say about cinematic conventions, and how so many of the conventions we take for granted in films, especially Hollywood films, are artificial constructs.

Again, it's an odd and confounding film, but perhaps one that we can appreciate in an age when Hollywood cranks out little more than mindless superhero epics or preachy virtue-signaling award-bait films that leave little to the imagination and personal interpretation. 

So listen to the podcast and give "Breathless" a try.

I'm talking "Easy Rider" on the CineVerse podcast

Check out the CineVerse podcast for discussions of classic films on their major anniversaries. I was the special guest on their latest episode for the 50th anniversary of "Easy Rider." So sit back, chill, drop out, tune in, smoke a doobie if that's your thing, and have the ultimate trip as host Erik Martin and I talk about "Easy Rider."