Film Reviews by DW

Magnificent singing from Kozena and company but one was utterly distracted by the strange, over-stylised production which quite took away just about all the pleasure I had expected from such a stellar cast and such wonderful music. I had the same reaction to the Rameau opera I had also recently anticipated viewing with enjoyment although, while this production could almost be described as "frozen", the Ramaeu was utterly manic. In each case i was driven to switch off before the end of the first act. How I wish they'd just leave the music to speak for itself.

Four rather than five stars because, I think throughout I felt somewhat guilty about laughing so much, if that comment makes sense to anyone other then me! Over the years I've read quite a lot of Soviet literature (Solzhenitsyn, Sholakov and others and recently read The Noise of Time by Julian Barnes in which Barnes tells of the composer Dmitri Shostakovich's persecution by Stalin and the Politburo, absolutely contemporary with this film).

Black as the subject is, I am sure that Iannucci recognised the potential for presenting this event as a ready candidate for a Theatre of the Absurd production and, with his innate skills as well as a brilliant cast, I truly think he has brought it off very successfully indeed.

These times were not at all funny, and the victims of Stalin's terror could be counted in their millions. To Iannucci's credit, I really think at no time during The Death of Stalin are we left in any doubt about the cruelty, the sheer ruthlessness which kept Stalin, Beria and their cohorts in power for so long. I can't think of any other approach than this, though, that would show them up for the despots they were.

I had had high hopes of Joseph Losey, a director I much admired, taking on the Mozart. Alas, his idea of actually filming the opera, giving it some real Italian locations, was wasted on me. Venice and Palladian's countryside only distracted from the usual staged intimacy of the plot and whilst the performers did their best there was no denying that their singing was in fact mimed to pre-recordings.

After about 45 minutes I am afraid I simply gave up as this particular Herzog enterprise appeared to lack definition and objectives. I had imagined more focus on wild-life as here he had an opportunity to capture unique footage from the End of the World, as Herzog himself described Antartica. There were here, I felt, too many talking heads, not all of them providing the specialist insight one would expect with Herzog controlling the venture.. I think that he was very much out of his depth here, unlike with the Cave of Forgotten Dreams and with Grizzly Man, completely different undertakings but made with authority and holding one's attention throughout.

A nice and interesting notion, highlighting the importance of film scores, how they are composed and then integrated into the finished visual product. The "right" score, of course, enhances and adds so much to just about any film and it's reassuring to know that the skill of movie score composition remains a thriving art. I would have preferred it if more time had been devoted to the symphonic type scores of the forties, say, and for my interest there could well have been less attention given to blockbuster type films which here are given precedence over any other genre.

Informative in its way as it told me more about Eiffel than I'd known before but oh, how amateur a production it seemed, not helped by the dubbing from French to English. I had no idea that films were dubbed any longer but obviously they are. Nothing more to add, I'm afraid.

Le Rossignol contains some of Stravinsky's most lyrical music as it tells the story of H C Andersen's The Emperor and the Nightingale.

Unfortunately here it is given overblown production values which do not at all match either the story nor the music. Whilst the singing and orchestral playing are of a high standard, in my opinion the digitally produced "sets" and background over ornament and detract from the simplicity of Andersen's fairy tale. How I wish the music could be left alone to speak for itself.....

I absolutely love Alice in the Cities. As a dedicated Wim Wenders fan I was very pleased to take another viewing of Alice, this time in a recently restored version. From making time to watch the Extras available on the disc I was extremely impressed to learn about the establishment of the Wim Wenders Foundation and the efforts to restore some of his earliest films. It is more than obvious that Wenders retains a great affection for Alice, his second film, made for around $250,000, a sum which, given that this was the entire budget even in 1974 would, you'd think, restrict the director's ambitions. Its lasting charm rests largely on the performances from Yella Rottlaender and Ruediger Vogler, the casting another touch of inspiration by Wenders.

It may be that the initial 20 minutes of Alice seem to drag and be going nowhere. Let me assure the first time viewer that it leads to the most delightful two-hander, both funny and touching, so stick with it and I'm sure you won't regret it.....

I have to say I rather agree with the second of these reviews, finding much to enjoy about Brydon and Coogan in this, the third in their Trip series. Previously I had watched the first two in the series on TV but, not subscribing to Sky, had missed viewing their trip to Spain.

I found it just as hilariously funny as the earlier films, loving the way they poke fun at each other and their attempts to satirise and make impressions of various luminaries, most of whom thank goodness are of well known performers, so that even I can recognise their targets.

Yes, some of it may be scripted, there are glimpses into their personal lives which may, or may not have elements of fiction, for instance, but I really don't care. I do find it laugh out loud, a pretty rare experience these days. It is silly in parts but also erudite and sophisticated.

One caveat only and this is to do with watching one episode after another instead of one per week when viewing on TV. I do need to add that I think Brydon and Coogan operate more successfully when taken in small doses rather than when six episodes come together. A surfeit of riches, I think, and they are probably enjoyed all the more when not watched in sequence. The solution is most likely to buy a copy to keep at home for more leisurely viewing.

I had known something of Emily Dickenson's life from first reading a selection of her poems which inspired me to discover more about her. Even then she continued to remain an enigma and I'm not altogether sure that much more of depth was revealed in Davies' film. Yes, the society in which she lived, patriarchal and parochial, was well captured and we were given a glimpse into the way in which Dickenson's quietly rebellious character developed through school and home life.

Throughout, unfortunately, I found myself unable to empathise sufficiently with the poet, or rather how Davies along with Cynthia Nixon between then chose to portray her. It may be that I have never developed a liking for Terence Davies' films even when, on the surface, they appear to have all the necessary ingredients for the making of films of a very high quality. It's just me, I guess, and a matter of personal taste.

Glyndebourne has done itself proud with this performance of Monteverdi's opera. Maria Ewing sings and acts quite beautifully and certainly looks the part of Poppea. Utterly beguiling. As Nero, Dennis Bailey is in fine voice and the rest of the cast match the leads in keeping up very high standards as do the orchestral players. Peter Hall's staging is imaginative, especially in the way he allows the gods, after their initial prologue, to be positioned on high as if in the heavens looking down on the vagaries of the all too human protagonists

.I have seen live staged performances of this opera as well as others on DVD but I do think this matches any previously experienced. It's interesting that this particular 1984 production doesn't seem to have dated at all which is much to the credit of Peter Hall especially, I'm sure.

An interesting pairing from Ballet Rambert. Whilst Pulcinella is familiar to me I had not until now viewed a danced performance of L'Histoire du Soldat. It follows a story much along the lines of The Rakes Progress, the music is some of the most sparsely orchestrated Stravinsky wrote and very much in the Jazz-influenced style of his Ebony Concerto. In which case I have to say that this style holds the least appeal tor me compared with the vast catalogue of his music which I very much like. Nevertheless, the choreography and the performances of the small company of dancers is of the quality one has come to expect from Rambert.

I would have appreciated this performance of Pulcinella more if I hadn't recently watched, with huge enjoyment, a version of the ballet by a German company, Ballet Scapino I think, which was much livelier and full of mischief. Pulcinella is, after all, a scamp. I must add that I thought the singers in the Ballet Rambert version gave a rather poor performance whereas the Scapino ballet had the huge advantage of being conducted by Claudio Abbado and gained much by employing singers of the highest quality, such as John Shirley Quirk. The music is such a joy.

My first viewing of this was in the cinema when it was first released. The fact that it was first shown in 3-D obviously added an extra dimension, quite literally, and possibly made this initial experience of it more intense and awe-inspiring. Subsequently I have watched it twice, in 2-D, and find it has continued to fascinate as well as educate. A few years ago I visited the caves of Peche Merle in South West France and while they are not quite on the scale of these in the film I found them utterly moving and truly memorable, very much in the way Herzog himself was affected by his experiences here.

I can find little fault in the director's narration. For me he explained clearly the restrictions he and the small crew were under. So restricted, in fact, that what they achieved in regards to the quality of the finished film, allowed the audience a unique sense of privilege so that they could witness, even at second hand, the wonder of the drawings found in the caves. Interviews with those involved with the initial and ongoing explorations were enlightening and augmented all that the cameras recorded.

Until I watched Cafe Society recently and which, to my surprise, I rather enjoyed because it was more like vintage Allen, there had been a lengthy hiatus in my Woody watching. Partly, I suppose, because his more recent films are no longer given general release (there are no Independent cinemas where I live) and also owing to the demise of LoveFilm. Thank goodness, then, for the arrival of Cinema Paradiso to provide access to an excellent archive as well as giving an opportunity to see films that otherwise would be unavailable to most film fans.

Irrational Man, however, was not to my liking at all. Not serious drama such as Crimes and Misdemeanors, and certainly not showing the originality of Annie Hall nor the warm romance of Hannah and her Sisters. These are, of course, vintage Allen but Midnight in Paris made it obvious that he still has much to offer.

Not here, however, and I quickly lost interest in the college campus setting and in the self-indulgence of the Joaquin Phoenix character. Better luck next time, I hope.

I am forever intrigued by Herzog and the stories he chooses to tell, whether in documentary form or as a feature film. Ever since Aguire, Wrath of God, in the far distant past, through other collaborations with Klaus Kinski, and onto these more recent documentaries, he pursues his own distinct curiosity as to what motivates the individual to venture into worlds apart from the normal human experience.

Timothy Treadwell's quest brings to mind the heroic, but quite mad, Fitzcaraldo, intent on building an opera house in the jungle. Whilst Treadwell didn't actually need to haul a ship over the mountains, his determination to live with the grizzlies in Alaska, alone apart from his camera, filming himself alongside the bears, forever proclaiming how only he understood them and was fit to protect them, yet all the while telling us how dangerous were these animals and how he was risking his life in the pursuit of their protection. These films, shown back in the US when Alaska was in the grip of winter, gave him both celebrity and notoriety. Either way, he didn't seem to care. What he went to great pains to hide, though, was the fact that he was rarely alone but almost always had a girlfriend along. Obviously the bears could not provide all the companionship he needed. That what he predicted, that the bears would eventually kill him, came true. That his girlfriend died too was, of course, the bigger tragedy. I feel that the film could have stood more vigorous editing but all the same, Herzog makes a good job of combining Treadwell's film archive with his own to good effect.