Providence [1977]

PROVIDENCE is a French / Swiss drama that was directed by Alain Resnais and originally released in January 1977.  It stars John Gielgud, Dirk Bogarde, Ellen Burstyn, David Warner and Elaine Stritch. Written by British playwright David Mercer the film recounts one night in the life of a dying paterfamilias author who, unable to sleep, fantasises scenes from his final novel played out by his relatives.  Resnais is known to English-speaking audiences chiefly for his films HIROSHIMA MON AMOUR  [1958] and LAST YEAR AT MARIENBAD [1961].  Those two films and PROVIDENCE use unconventional narrative structures to explore themes of memory, identity and the difficulties inherent in human interaction.

A word which crops up a lot when you read about this film is 'scatalogical' and it's certainly true that John Gielgud's character Clive Langham is obsessed with his bodily functions, or perhaps more accurately malfunctions: this must be the only film in which we see Gielgud administer himself a suppository (albeit, thankfully, under the bedsheets).

The king on his throne

It's also true that Langham employs very coarse language to catalogue his agonies (four years before his equally foul-mouthed Oscar-winning performance in ARTHUR [1981]).  But what I was curious about prior to seeing the film was why it had an 18 rating.  It couldn't just be for the swearing, surely?

This kind of thing got you an 18 rating back in the 1977; nowadays you can see it on Channel 4

To clear that point up first, I don't think it is the language, at least not solely.  There's a scene quite early on of an autopsy and it's very graphic so I imagine that's what did it because, at the risk of putting people off, there's certainly no sex or violence in it.  I know it's a minor point but film classification has always been an issue which fascinates me, particularly in cases such as this where it doesn't seem to correspond to the subject matter at all.

David Warner enters the room...

I don't think it would constitute a spoiler to say that for the majority of the film the characters played by Bogarde, Burstyn, Warner and Stritch are constructs of Langham's literary mind.  Similarly the scenes they enact represent passages from Langham's final novel, the one he hopes to complete before he dies.  As the film progresses, Langham rewrites some of these passages meaning we see some scenes played out twice, with the same characters reciting different dialogue, or the same dialogue recited by different characters.  For example, in one sequence Warner's character enters a hotel room; Langham quickly realises he meant someone else to be in this scene, so Warner exits and we cut to Stritch's character entering the room.  This is done deliberately to confuse the viewer; it's a visual representation of both the process of artistic creation and the artist's bodily decay, specifically his mental confusion.

...but it's Elaine Stritch who opens the door to let Dirk Bogarde in.  Note the hotel room has slightly changed: the decor is the same but there's now a staircase down to the door

This sort of metafiction can be very effective and I'm surprised it isn't used more in films.  It abounds in literature of course, notably in the work of John Fowles (The French Lieutenant's Woman and the ending of The Magus) and Muriel Spark (The Comforters).  I suppose that writing isn't seen by movie producers as being a sufficiently cinematic activity and most of them instinctively shy away from anything that might be regarded as being too clever for its own good.  Or at least in the US they do; not so in Europe.

The deliberately artificial backgrounds help sustain the metafiction

I'm also surprised that PROVIDENCE isn't more widely known or even screened.  It's a very satisfying film that is entirely free from the intellectual sterility that some critics perceive in Resnais's work.  Sure, it's initially somewhat confusing as you try to figure out who is who and what the significance is of the bizarre series of encounters which make up the film.  But Resnais makes that pretty clear early on and the game then becomes trying to work out how much truth there is in Langham's fictional representations of his family.

Gielgud approaches WITHNAIL levels of swearing and boozing in this film

PROVIDENCE won a lot of awards when it came out, particularly a great number of Cesars, the French equivalent of Oscars or BAFTAs.  Gielgud said that it was one of only two screen performances (the other being BRIDESHEAD REVISITED [1981]) in which he took any pride.  He's terrific in it, relishing the chance to get his teeth into a proper part.  His swearing, which was used merely for comic effect in ARTHUR, is more significant here, indicating Langham's essential amorality.  Indeed, a phrase which crops up repeatedly is the "moral language" that is sought by Langham's son, who self-denying honourable behaviour is in marked contrast to his father's.

Dirk Bogarde as Claude Langham

Dirk Bogarde is an actor who for a long time I dismissed, based largely on the fact that he was such a fey individual who never seemed to make the kind of films I found interesting.  To me he represented the lightweight nature of British cinema, as compared to the much more breezy Americans.  However, as I've got older and my tastes have changed I've realised that in the second half of his career, Bogarde actually made some very challenging movies, especially in European art house films, and had a refreshing disregard for whether or not he played likeable characters.  I think that started with VICTIM [1961] which seemed a conscious decision to distance himself from the matinee idol roles he had played in the 50s in favour of more complex parts.  It can't have been easy for the homosexual Bogarde to have played straight romantic leads and it's tempting to read VICTIM as being a tacit declaration of who he felt himself to be.  He would have denied that of course, as he continued to deny accusations of homosexuality to the day he died, but sometimes actions speak louder than words.

David Warner (L) on trial for shooting a werewolf (no, really)

David Warner is a favourite of mine, as my recent review of THE BOFORS GUN [1968] testifies.  Ellen Burstyn I've also mentioned recently in TROPIC OF CANCER [1970].  They're both good in this, as is Elaine Stritch who I seem to remember was on British TV a lot in the 80s without ever quite knowing what she was famous for.

Elaine Stritch

Of the supporting cast, Denis Lawson is familiar to millions if not billions of film fans from his roles in the STAR WARS movies.  Peter Arne had small parts in dozens of terrific movies and TV shows, adding depth and colour to the smaller roles such as alongside Warner in Sam Peckinpah's troubling STRAW DOGS [1971]; he was murdered in 1982.  Anna Wing, who was most famous for playing grumpy old Lou Beale in EastEnders, has a very small part as Langham's devoted housekeeper.

Updated on 11/07/2013 to add:  It was announced earlier today that Anna Wing, mentioned in the final sentence of my review of PROVIDENCE, passed away last Sunday at the grand old age of 98.

Shock Waves (1977)

SHOCK WAVES, also known as ALMOST HUMAN, was directed by the magnificently named Ken Weiderhorn in 1977 and stars Brooke Adams, Luke Halpin, Peter Cushing and John Carradine.  Set in the Caribbean, it begins with a terrified young woman being rescued from a drifting dinghy; in hospital she recounts what led her to be in that predicament.

SHOCK WAVES is a good example of a cross-genre movie, otherwise known (by me) as a have-your-cake-and-eat-it movie.  You've got zombies, to get the horror fans in; you've got underwater action and bikinis to get fans of THE DEEP in; and as if that isn't enough, you've also got Nazis, to get the WW2 fans in.  Partly by chance, and partly by design, it also has a cast which will endear to film buffs approaching it for the first time now.

There are some good moments in it actually and the spooky atmosphere is sustained throughout.  Ocean-based movies that are actually shot on location almost always look good and are almost always quite exciting, simply by being set at sea: the ocean is a great location and can be used to suggest menace, adventure, isolation - you name it.  Plus it allows for crusty old sea captains, plucky sailors and bizarre passengers (all of which are present and correct here).  The best bits mostly come in the first two-thirds, essentially up until we are told what's going on, as if we hadn't already guessed: the eerie weather which presages the raising of the U-Boat, the discovery and exploration of the seemingly abandoned hotel.

Unfortunately, it then degenerates into a long and rather repetitive chase, as the survivors try to fight off the undead Nazis and get off the island.  The make-up effects by CHILDREN SHOULDN'T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS star Alan Ormsby are really good, but there are too many shots of the Nazis rising from the sea; it's good once or twice but after that it's just overkill.

The cast is well worth noting.  Brooke Adams somehow went from this to Terrence Malick's breathtaking DAYS OF HEAVEN (1978) and hence a decent career in mainstream Hollywood productions.  Luke Halpin was the star of the TV series FLIPPER which I've never seen but I understand he and it were very popular in the 1960s; in this he's kind of Nick Nolte-lite but decent enough.  Cushing needs no introduction from me: I'm a huge fan and he's as dependable as ever in this, even gamely splashing about in the surf despite not looking too well.  Next to John Carradine, hoever, he looks in the prime of life.  Carradine is I suppose the US equivalent to Cushing but only in terms of the nature of his output and its prolific rate; he's nowhere near as good an actor and too early in his career settled for guest appearances in crummy horror movies.  He has a presence though and his gnarly, arthritic hands really suit his character here.

Hausu (1977)

HAUSU is a Japanese horror / comedy / teen movie that was directed by Nobuhiko Obayashi in 1977.  It is known in the west as HOUSE (not to be confused with the 1986 US Steve Miner / William Katt horror movie of the same name).  It's about a bunch of teenage schoolgirls - Oshare, Fanta, Melody, Kung Fu, Sweet, Mac and Gari - who spend their summer vacation at a house in the countryside, owned by Oshare's aunt.  The aunt and her house turn out to be less welcoming than the girls imagined.

Our heroines

A simple enough summary you might think.  Maybe even a bit ordinary.  But HAUSU is one of the most bizarre films I have seen: it's not only the things that happen but also the array of visual techniques used to present them.  There are musical sequences, animation, shonky special effects, very good special effects, split screen, breaking of the fourth wall and all manner of editing tricks. The Japanese love of popular culture is reflected in the imagery and style, which encompasses at least four or five different genres.  The tone lurches from playful to sentimental to cynical to brutal at the drop of a hat.

This sequence is a good indication of the playful nature of the film: 1) bus drops off girls in front of obviously fake background ...

2) Bus drives off to reveal even more obviously fake background ...

3) Which they are then shown standing in front of!

All of which leaves the viewer dazzled, confused, annoyed and at times thoroughly entertained.  But its enormous verve and imagination is also its weakness because the film never settles down which ultimately becomes rather wearing.  It's a bit like watching THE BANANA SPLITS or THE MONKEES for an hour and a half, which given that those shows only ran for 30 minutes, is asking too much of this viewer.

Mac's disembodied head bites her friend on the arse

Aunty dances with a skeleton

Melody's fingers are bitten off by the carnivorous piano

Don't ask me what's going on here

I should own up to having a real problem with horror-comedy films.  They're never funny enough and they're never horrifying enough; and unless they get it absolutely spot on each element undercuts the other.  In the whole history of cinema the only film I can think of that made me laugh out loud and frightened the wits out of me is John Landis' AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON (1981).  Over a hundred years of movies and only once has the horror-comedy been done right.  That's how hard it is.

Oh and don't give me SHAUN OF THE DEAD.  That's a comedy which happens to be about zombies.

Eraserhead (1977)

This is about as close to the definitive cult movie as you're ever likely to see.  As well as being weird, stylish, revolting, arty, dreamlike and resolutely impenetrable, it's also totally unique.  I've never seen anything else like it, outside of other films by David Lynch.  I hesitate to offer a plot summary because there isn't a plot in the conventional sense.  In fact there's nothing about it that could be described as 'conventional'; not even the credits, which jump about from cast to crew to cast again.

The main character is a chap called Henry Spencer, a painfully shy man who lives in a dingy one room apartment in some nameless, clanking urban hellhole.  A series of bizarre things happen to him, culminating in him apparently being eaten by a planet.  It's that sort of film and having sat through it all, the ending doesn't seem as weird as it must do just reading about it now.

Lynch has steadfastly refused to offer an explanation of what the film means, preferring to describe it as "a nightmare".  As far as I'm concerned it's about fear or, more precisely, phobias.  Henry seems to be terrified of everything but above all human interaction.  He fears being alone, being in a relationship, commitment, rejection, parents, children, you name it.  The sum total of these fears is an omnipresent dread, which leads Henry to stay in his room most of the time, occasionally scuttling outside, hugging the walls like a timid mouse.  The personification of that dread may be the unidentified, horribly scarred man who appears at the beginning and end of the film, pulling levers like some omnipotent signalman.

Henry on his way home

From what I've read, Lynch had spent some time living in extremely poor and unpleasant parts of Philadelphia and has described the dread that was a constant feeling during his time there.  He has replicated this on screen in ERASERHEAD but it's difficult to describe how because there isn't really any violence or villains.  I think it's just that no-one in the film really seems to care at all about anyone else, resulting in a terrible feeling of alienation.  Normal situations - spending time with a girlfriend, visiting her parents, eating dinner, feeding the baby - become nightmarish experiences either through people's abnormal and unsettling behaviour or revolting detail.  There are occasional moments of tenderness - Henry nursing his ill 'baby' or his brief liaison with his alluring neighbour - but they are brief interludes in the awfulness of life.

Henry tends his 'baby

An amazing sequence where Henry and his lover literally sink into his bed

It's difficult to imagine now quite what the impact of ERASERHEAD was on its first release; we've grown accustomed to David Lynch's surreal visions and to an extent they have become acceptable - you'd never have pegged him in 1977 as the future director of a worldwide smash hit TV show.  But when you consider that ERASERHEAD was released a year before something as utterly derivative and mundane as THE EVIL you can perhaps get a sense of the context.  Like a lot of cult films, or delirious films as I prefer to call them, it was met with widespread bafflement, if not revulsion, on first release although some notable figures championed it and Lynch, paving the way for his move into bigger budget film-making.

An iconic still of Jack Nance as Henry Spencer

Jack Nance, who plays Henry, was part of Lynch's stock company, appearing in at least half a dozen more of his films before his untimely death at the age of just 53 following a blow to the head during a drunken scuffle.  One other point to note for film anoraks like me is Darwin Joston in a tiny part as Paul, the man to whom a boy brings Henry's head during the dream sequence which gives the film its title.

Darwin Joston as Paul

... and as Napoleon Wilson in ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13

Joston had a much bigger role as the good-hearted convict in John Carpenter's brilliant ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13 (1976) showing considerable charisma.  His film career never really took off, sadly, and he ended up working as a teamster on film and TV productions.  Joston died of leukemia in 1998.