#500: Roberto Rossellini's War Trilogy

February 10, 2010

#500: “Roberto Rossellini's War Trilogy”

Box Set

I have spent most of an entire week with the Criterion Collection’s box set “Roberto Rossellini’s War Trilogy.” Those were some very entertaining and engaging evenings spent absorbing three wonderful films, written and visual essays, and a cornucopia of special features while the snow piled ever deeper outside. If ever there was a “film school in a box,” this collection is the new epitome of one.

I enjoyed every minute I spent with this collection. It was all I had hoped for, and more. I have many prized and cherished DVDs in my movie collection, and this set is now certainly counted among them.

I bought it at a time when it was definitely over-indulgent to do so. A leftover Christmas gift card, a generous coupon, and an online discount made it obtainable. This is one purchase I definitely do not regret making. I have no doubts that I will come back to it and enjoy it many times through the years.

This post is brief because its only purpose is to wrap up my viewing of the three movies contained in the box set, Rome Open City, Paisan, and Germany Year Zero. See the previous posts for all I’ve had to say about each of the films and my impressions of the box set.

#499: Germany Year Zero

February 9, 2010

#499: Germany Year Zero

1948, 71 minutes, Black and White, 1.33:1

Language: German

Directed by Roberto Rossellini

[A note on spoilers: I think I did a pretty darn good job of not including any in this post.]

For me, Germany Year Zero is definitely the odd man out in Roberto Rossellini’s “War Trilogy.” I had no contextual reference for the film at all before I saw it as part of the trilogy when Criterion announced its upcoming release a few months ago. Really, anything I knew of it before seeing it myself I had learned only incidentally through the reviews, essays, and supplemental features included with the Criterion DVD set and online.

It was a bit of a hard pill to swallow in comparison to Rome Open City and Paisan. Not only is it overshadowed by the first two films, it stands quite apart from them. Set in postwar Berlin, it is stark, bleak, and without humor. Not only does it seem isolated from the other two films in the trilogy, it almost doesn’t even seem like an Italian film; the setting and the language is all German.

It is a wonderful film, and I do admire it a great deal. From the supplements and other discussions, there does seem to be some argument for Rossellini’s intent in making it. My preference is displayed in the feature on the disc, “Italian Credits and Prologue,” where the voiceover says the intention of the film is neither to condemn nor defend the German people, but an assessment of a fact, and that the efforts of those making the film will be rewarded if anyone who watches it feels something should be done so that German children may be taught to love life again. There is another interesting proposal of Rossellini’s reasons to make the film in the supplemental feature, a written and photo essay by Thomas Meder, “Roberto and Roswitha,” that considers, almost conspiratorially, that it was his love affair with a German woman that make him more sympathetic to the plight of the German people.

I am impressed by the audacity of a man making a film that, regardless of his intentions for doing so, takes a sympathetic look into the lives of a country whose soldiers oppressively occupied his own just a short time before. Germany Year Zero depicts the lives of the citizens of Berlin. It is the government, and its military, that was responsible for the war and the havoc and devastation it wreaked on Italy and Europe. The people – the citizenry – of Germany, however, were just as devastated by the war posed by its own government as were the people of the countries invaded by Germany. They deserve to be shown, if not sympathy, at least understanding. As the title implies, it is a starting point for a rebirth in that country, an opportunity to sow the seeds of a peaceful future.

I think the impact of the movie is so great because it is lived from the point of view of a young boy. He has an innocent, almost angelic, appearance. Because of circumstances forced upon him as a result of the war, he is anything but innocent. His innocence is his weakness because it leaves him exposed to the more evil implications and lessons of the world in which he lives. He is preyed upon and taken advantage of. He is impressionistic and learns quickly. He is too young to be fully aware of the differences between good and evil, and takes literally the figurative rants and laments of those he encounters and lives with, therefore performing a deed that may seem logical and, even, asked for, but is in no way right or morally justified. After realizing the evil of his actions, he can’t undo what he has done and wanders the city streets alone. He is searching for a way to make things right. He is abandoned by everyone, can’t reconcile his emotions with his environment, and sees only one ultimate conclusion that is most drastic.

The movie does seem to have such an oppressive and overwhelming sense of hopelessness. I see the film essentially as a morality tale with the message of, look and see what may happen without compassion, understanding, and guidance.

I think I am glad that it is such a short movie. Clocking in a runtime of only seventy-three minutes is almost merciful. I don’t say that because it is a bad movie at all, no, far from it. It is a wonderful movie, but it contains such a hopeless environment and, I think, powerful message, that to be much longer would make it unbearable.

The supplemental features on this disc, too, are bountiful, even without an audio commentary to the film. I have already mentioned a couple of them and there is also a documentary, Roberto Rossellini, covering Rossellini’s life and career, with appearances by Anna Magnani, Isabella Rossellini, François Truffaut, and Martin Scorsese. This supplemental feature actually has a runtime two minutes longer than the main feature. It is a wealth of information and knowledge, as can be expected. Several special features are also well worth the time to take them in.

This disc is a wonderful compilation. It was quite a treat to be exposed to this film, considering I knew very little of its existence before Criterion announced its release.

#498: Paisan

February 8, 2010

#498: Paisan

1946, 120 minutes, Black and White, 1.33:1

Language: English, German, Italian

Directed by Roberto Rossellini

[A note on spoilers: This post contains ‘em. But, they will only be spoilers for someone coming into this film completely cold, with no foreknowledge of its contents whatsoever. Most of what I mentioned had already been revealed to me by other sources, such as essays and reviews, where it was pretty much accepted that these key scenes are already common knowledge.]

As much as I enjoyed Rome Open City, I enjoyed Paisan several times more. The two hours spent watching this film passed very quickly. Each episode grabbed my attention, held me spellbound throughout, and left me wanting for more as I was swept into the next. As the first episode ended I was reminded how much I like short stories, and why. A good short story can contain so much more than is shown or said.

Like Rome Open City, this movie was one that I owned another copy of, an old VHS tape of poor quality. Also, as with Rome Open City, I had already been spoiled by Criterion Collection quality and couldn’t force myself to watch it, hoping that some day Criterion would come through. I think Paisan was the last VHS tape I ever bought. I put it in my combo DVD/VHS player and watched a couple of minutes of it before abandoning it. That had to have been five or six years ago. The tape remained in the player ever since, and that’s where it still was when I wanted to compare the visual quality of the tape and the new Criterion DVD. The same as with Rome Open City, the difference between the old release and the Criterion is night and day. The opening sequence between the two versions was even different. Scanning forward in the tape, I noticed that the transition between the first and second episodes was also different on the tape, using an overlay of a map to show the Allied progress up the Italian peninsula. I suspect it is the same between all the episodes. The subtitles are also vastly improved in the new DVD. Criterion certainly made the wait worthwhile, again.

As much as I delighted in watching Paisan for the first time, I must admit that I don’t know if it is something I would have watched had I come across the movie by chance some lazy Sunday spent channel surfing on the television, especially if I caught it at the opening of the first episode. With no context, whether that of the importance of the movie, the historical impact of the film, or the conditions under which it was made, if I had happened across it at the point where the soldiers are advancing on the Sicilian village I would have discounted it as a cheesy war movie. The American soldiers were stiff, amateurish, and over-acted. But with an understanding of the context and a desire to see this film, those little quirks are not only easily overlooked, but make the movie that much more appealing. Those soldiers were, in reality, not actors at all! There were several points in the film where the post-dubbing of dialogue was noticeably out of synch with the actors’ mouths, even the sound quality varying drastically. These imperfections somehow enhance the pleasure of watching this film.

Each episode contained something endearing. I really don’t know if could begin to rank them because there is something in each one of them that could compel me to call it my favorite.

Episode One, “Sicily,” held me by my hopes that the Americans and Italians would be able to communicate and get through the mistrust they instinctively held for one another. The Americans didn’t trust the Italians because they were entering unfamiliar territory not knowing what awaited them or who they could trust. The Italians just saw another invading force, one that they had no reason to expect these soldiers would be any different than the Germans. There was a sense of trust being built between Joe and Carmela before Joe’s mistake caused his death. In the end there was not only no understanding achieved, but the events were completely misunderstood, reinforcing the mistrust. The American soldiers assumed Carmela had killed their comrade in order to flee, when in fact she did all she could to save him and was ultimately killed for it herself. It was the ending of that episode where I thought to myself, Wow, I really like short stories. There was just so much packed into that twenty minutes of film that really sent my mind racing.

I liked the interaction between the MP, Joe, and the Neapolitan boy Pasquale in Episode Two, “Naples.” The acting was much better done in this episode. Both Joe and Pasquale were great. I got a kick out of them sitting atop the pile of rubble and Joe playacting out his journey home, hero’s welcome, and sad realization that he didn’t want to go home because it was actually worse for him than being at war. Eventually he would see that the slums of Naples were much worse than anything he had experienced. It was a bit of a sad realization, but again, like a good short story, there was much to ponder afterwards.

“Rome” is the setting for Episode Three, where the drunken GI, Fred, is picked up by a hooker. He recalls how jubilant the crowds were when he rolled into Rome with the U.S. Army and how much promise the liberation held. He lamented, six months later, how all that cheer and hope had evaporated. He told of a beautiful young woman named Francesca he met on the first day, but had lost contact with her. The hooker realizes that she is the young woman he is talking about, only now recognizing Fred though he had yet to recognize her. Her realization raises within her hopes that he could be her Prince Charming to take her from the horrible world she’s trapped in. Even though she leaves him the address where he can find her the next day, he only throws the address away. I think it is because he has become jaded and doesn’t care or see the point, believing that any love he could have with the woman would fade away just as had the jubilation when he had first arrived in Rome.

What I enjoyed most about Episode Four, “Florence,” was the city itself. I fell in love with the city the first time I visited it and was happy to see some familiar locations. It was surreal, however, to see the starkness of the city during the war, the Uffizi square empty of all tourists and color. It amazed me to think, in spite of all the destruction and devastation of war, how much did survive. I also thought how the realism achieved of making the film when it was, while it was still bearing the effects of war, could never be effectively recreated at any time after that. Rossellini had accomplished something unique by making the film when he did, capturing a sense of realism that could never be adequately recreated.

I suppose that maybe Episode Five, “The Monastery,” probably does hold an edge as my favorite if I ever were forced to make such a claim. I liked the genuine, sincere congeniality of the American Catholic chaplain, Captain Bill Martin, as he entered the monastery and marveled at how this building was hundreds of years older than the country he called home. It was the most lighthearted of all the episodes, I believe, in its humor and spirituality. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when it was learned by the monks that of the three visiting American military clergy one was Protestant and another Jewish. It was humorous how quickly the word spread and how distraught the monks were about the situation. The mutual charity was refreshing, too. The monks were going to be generous with what little provisions they had, and the Americans, even without knowing how low supplies were, gave all their canned goods to the monks without a second thought. It made me think again of the interview with the priest on the Rome Open City disc where Rossellini claimed to not believe in anything. Here, he portrays religion in what appears to me to be quite a positive light.

The final episode, “The Po Valley,” was tense and intriguing, showing collaboration between Italian partisans and American and British soldiers fighting against the Germans. In the end, their fates are sealed together. The movie ends rather abruptly, but appropriately, with a succinct explanation that the events took place in December and by spring the war was over.

Each episode is enjoyable in its own right, and sewn together as a patchwork, the whole product was a wonderful work of cinema. This movie certainly stands up strong under all the praise piled upon it.

When I was traveling Italy with U.S. Army veterans, several of them referred to the Italian campaign as the “forgotten war.” Initially, it was the prime campaign to “pierce the soft underbelly” of Germany. D-Day and the invasion of Normandy in June 1944, just days after American forces took possession of Rome, overshadowed the campaign in Italy though the fighting continued for nearly a year after. There are relatively few movies that depict the Italian campaign, and I don’t think any of them could represent it as well as Paisan does. For the movie to be filmed while the rubble was still piled high makes for a perfect time capsule. After waiting so many years to see this film, I was not disappointed, and I will surely, gladly, sit through it many times again.

The special features on this disc were not as many as on Rome Open City – there is no audio commentary for the movie – but they were very informative and enlightening. I most especially liked “Into the Future,” the video essay by Tag Gallagher. Gallagher’s voice was friendly, inviting, and gentle. It was like sitting down in the parlor over tea to listen to a dear great uncle warmly telling a tale of the past. It hit upon all three flims in the trilogy, but since I had just finished Paisan, it was the segment that seemed most relevant, though there were many revealing things, with wonderful use of visual aids, about all three. For Paisan, I appreciated the greater understanding of the evolution of communication throughout the movie, from almost complete lack of in the first episode to almost absolute in the last. It showed the counter-balance between the American and Italian elements of each episode, and had a wonderful segment demonstrating “shock” and “impulse” throughout. The essay doesn’t have chapters, so be careful not to skip back to the beginning when only intending to scan back a few seconds to pick up something illuminating enough to be repeated. A particularly fun bit of trivia was to be shown the first shot ever directed by Federico Fellini.

Overall, every aspect of the Paisan disc was satisfying and pleasurable. After watching it, I am eager to move on to Germany Year Zero.

#497: Rome Open City

February 7, 2010

#497: Rome Open City

1945, 100 minutes, Black and White, 1.37:1

Language: German and Italian

Directed by Roberto Rossellini

[A note on spoilers: This post contains ‘em. But, they will only be spoilers for someone coming into this film completely cold, with no foreknowledge of its contents whatsoever. Most of what I mentioned had already been revealed to me by other sources, such as essays and reviews, where it was pretty much accepted that these key scenes are already common knowledge.]

Oh, my! Rome Open City was everything I had hoped for and more. In waiting for this movie to be released by the Criterion Collection, patience has indeed paid off.

I pulled out my old Image Entertainment copy of the movie for the sake of comparison. Yes, Criterion did a wonderful job in restoring this film. The difference between the two versions is the same as the difference between shooting a bullet and throwing one. I do find it ironic that the cover for the Image Entertainment disc says, “This version is mastered from a pristine 35mm archive print.” Even if it was the best available at the time, it has now been rendered more than obsolete.

I didn’t watch the whole movie for comparison, but looked at the beginning, the torture scene, and Pina’s death. In all of them, the image was cleaner, better contrasted, and more consistent in the Criterion version, as expected.

For the opening segment, the Image Entertainment version did not have the same opening credits, even discarding the opening panoramic shot of Rome. It was evident right away that the subtitles had been vastly improved by Criterion as well. In the Image Entertainment version, the subtitles were sparse, leaving much of the dialog untranslated. The Criterion subtitles were more thorough and very well done. I did like, however, in the Image Entertainment version how the subtitles used quotation marks and italics to show some of the expression and emphasis of the dialogue. I don’t think anything was lost in the Criterion version, but I just got a kick out of seeing it in the older version. I’m going to be a little nitpicky here: One thing I don’t like about Criterion subtitles is the font. I would think that they could superimpose a font with smooth outlines rather than jagged outlines. It doesn’t take away from the subtitles; I simply think it would be more aesthetically pleasing to see a cleaner font.

One thing that kept me from watching the Image Entertainment copy for all these years was that I had heard part of the torture scene had been edited out. I can’t stand the thought of seeing a movie that had been edited from its original presentation, even if only for a second, especially if it was done for reasons of censorship. If I couldn’t see the whole thing, I didn’t want to see any of it. The Image Entertainment copy was indeed missing some frames during the torture scene, which were replaced in the Criterion version I was happy to see.

The last scene I compared was when Pina was killed. In the Image Entertainment version, this scene did have more of the documentary feel and appearance I had read so much about than in the Criterion version. It was rough around the edges and much starker and grainier. The Criterion version has a more cinematic appearance and feel to it.

Yes, the restoration is marvelous!

As for the film itself, I was completely taken in by it. I am very happy to have finally seen it in all its glory. It was definitely worth the wait. It has lived up to its reputation, as far as I’m concerned, was everything I expected, and then some.

The movie delivered on its stark portrayal of Roman life during Nazi occupation. I expected a great drama, and that’s what I got. I had been exposed to both Anna Magnani and Aldo Fabrizi before and thought their performances in the movie were deserving of the praise given them. The only other Criterion movie I have starring Magnani is Mamma Roma. It’s been at least five years since I’ve seen it and, after watching her in Rome Open City, I look forward to watching it again some time soon.

Now, there were a couple of things I didn’t expect in the movie, and was pleasantly surprised to discover them as I watched it. The humor contained in it was a nice touch. The subject matter of the movie is indeed somber. Humor was almost necessary just to allow an opportunity to breath through the gravity of the conditions depicted. It was there to provide moments of levity, though not necessarily to evoke a laugh. I particularly liked the expressions that ran across Don Pietro’s face in the statue shop as he searched for an acceptable arrangement between the saint and the nude figure.

What struck me most was the religiousness of the film. It was something that hadn’t been discussed much in any of the readings I did before watching the film, and didn’t expect it to be so prevalent. To me, it was a welcome surprise. I had read so much about the film that, really, I thought it had all been discussed and that there would be nothing for me to discover on my own.

The opening shot is a cityscape of Rome with St. Peter’s Basilica dominating the vista. I took it only to be an establishing shot. The film goes full circle to end with a similar shot (learning from one of the supplements that it is from an altogether different direction), however with greater meaning. In the first shot, St. Peter’s seems only to be an integral part of the cityscape. In the closing shot, the majestic dome seems the primary focal point. There is certainly a more prominent significance of the last shot than the first time it was displayed. I see the children walking in the foreground and the prominence of the basilica in the background as a sign of hope. The most overt religious representation was Don Pietro scooping up the lifeless Pina up in his arms and cradling her in a manner reminiscent of a pietà. (In fact, this analogy was made distinctly clear in two of the supplements showing the image from the film and Michelangelo’s Pietà in comparison.)

To see such a venerable film now, after hearing and knowing so much about it beforehand, is still exciting. I had read so much about it, and waited for it so long, that watching it for the first time I was almost giddy, thinking to myself, almost in disbelief, I can’t believe I’m finally seeing it. I especially thought so during the iconic scene where Pina is gunned down in the street. It was similar to the feeling I had when, after years of reading about and seeing pictures and replicas of Michelangelo’s The David, to finally see it with my own eyes was incredible. I had to replay the scene several times just to absorb it as much as possible.

Seeing the movie, finally, also had a little extra special meaning of a personal nature for me. I was fortunate enough to make three visits to Italy with the U.S. Army veterans who fought through the Apennine Mountains during World War II. In addition to learning a great deal more about the war, particularly in the Italian setting, than I could ever have hoped to from books and movies, I also made friends with some of the local people. Yes, we were there primarily to see things from the perspective from the American veterans, but we also became more curious about the Italian perspective as our friendships grew. The plight of the Italian citizens was overshadowed by the presence of the American soldiers and their German enemies, so it took some time for the importance of their role to sink in.

The Old Man and I wanted to learn more and made a special trip, just the two of us, to a small town nestled in the hills not too far from Bologna specifically to hear their accounts of living under German occupation. The Old Man was involved in a key battle that broke the German defenses and liberated this village. After that battle in February 1945, the Old Man and the rest of his regiment moved north without ever setting foot in this town. It was sixty years later before he really got to learn about things from their vantage point. We were there for several days and the people we met were more than enthusiastic to share their stories with us. We sat down on a sunny day, cooled by the breezes in the shade, with a host of people who welcomed us as family. Six or seven people had memories of the war to recount to us. Living a rural existence, they were no strangers to hard work and the rigors of life. Some of them appeared to be quite ancient and others appeared surprisingly youthful. Most of them were children in 1945 and had to take on a lot of the farming duties as all the men in their prime had either been conscripted or fled to fight in the resistance. A couple of them had been young men at the time and did indeed take a direct role in the resistance efforts. One of them was the very guide who led the way for the Old Man’s company during the key battle that liberated the town; it was here, six decades later, that they met each other for the first time.

So, watching the movie evoked fond recollections of the fine and generous Italian people I was so fortunate to have befriended on my journeys to that beautiful country. In Rome Open City, Marcello and his young friends made me think of how many of the people I met were the same age during the war. Romoletto, with his missing leg, especially, made me think of the elderly Italian gentleman who told the story of how his hand, which still bears a distinct deformity, had been injured by a stray shell that hit the ox cart he and his uncle were tending during the war. Francesco and Manfredi made me think of the eldest of our friends who risked their lives join the partisans, assisting the Allies, and fighting against the Germans.

That little personal insight went two ways. To personally know people who lived under similar circumstances, though in a rural setting, brought the events depicted in the move more to life; there is a greater sense of the reality Rossellini projected onto the screen. And, to see the images of the movie, made the personal accounts I heard seem more real, more than just stories shared with me over some carafes of homemade (and wonderful) wine. I cannot recall the person it was who recommended Rome Open City to me when I mentioned my reasons for going to Italy, but whoever it had been was more right than I had imagined. Again, I am so very pleased to have seen the film, and doubly so that I was able to see such a beautiful rendering as the Criterion Collection is capable of producing. I have no doubt that I will revisit this film many times in the years to come, and that I will enjoy it each and every time I do.

Along with watching the movie, I also took in all of the supplemental features on the disc as well as the written essays included in the package. They all served to enhance my understanding and enjoyment of the film, from the making of it to the historical context, the actors, the settings, and the characters, just to scratch the surface.

The audio commentary was nicely done. I had prejudiced myself to find fault with it because of the fact that it was recorded in 1995, fifteen years ago! I had wanted for it to be something new and fresh to go along with the new restoration. My misgivings quickly evaporated, though, when I realized that the commentary would not have been rendered irrelevant in those relatively few years. The only thing that could have been added to it would have been to make reference to the wonder of the restored image, but that would just be redundant with all that’s already been commented on about that aspect of this release.

The commentary was very educational and insightful. Without it, there are some things I likely would have missed. One thing that, to me, demonstrates a well-done story is to take something complex and make it appear simple. When all of the characters are introduced and their paths cross, the commentary explained how these complex interrelations between the activists, communists, clergy, women, children, occupiers, et al., were embodied within the individual actors to represent the different factions. There are other things, too, like the significance of Romoletto’s name, the portrayal of the Germans equating sexual deviance with evil, and oh so much more. There are many occasions when audio commentaries aren’t worth the time, but for this movie it most certainly is. If I do watch a movie with the commentary at all, it is usually only once. This is one that I believe would be worth watching multiple times.

The supplemental feature, “Rossellini and the City,” is a visual essay discussing the urban settings of all three films in the trilogy. It made me more eager to watch the others.

Noting the prevalence of religion in the film, I was very appreciative of the interview with Father Virgilio Fantuzzi. It gave some good insight into Rossellini’s beliefs, or stated lack of them, and his use of religion in his films. When Pina approached Don Pietro for confession, he had to put her off because he had an urgent mission to run for the resistance efforts. I thought it odd for him to do so, but the significance of his procrastination was made even clearer in this section. To Catholic Italian viewers it would have been ghastly that Pina died on the day of her wedding without the Sacrament of Confession having been ministered. It also points out other nuances, such as Don Pietro’s acceptance of Pina’s premarital pregnancy, and how the Germans cowered away from Don Pietro when he was cursing them, among others.

About the only thing missing from the disc would be a demonstration of the restoration process to fully illustrate just how magnificent it is. Criterion has done it with other titles, such as Gimme Shelter, so maybe they thought it was redundant to do so. But, I believe that the significance of this release is so much greater than any other I can think of that it would have been worthwhile to include it here too. I did get an adequate taste of how incredible this restoration is by comparing it to the old DVD I already had, but it would have been less cumbersome and more entertaining to have it demonstrated in the material on the disc. I am not complaining, but I do suppose I am being greedy.

There are a couple of other features, such as an introduction by Roberto Rossellini, that I neglected to mention, so this disc of Rome Open City is a veritable treasure trove of information and entertainment. It is well worth the price of admission! And the days spent absorbing all of it were worthwhile. This disc alone is now one of the more cherished in my collection, and I can’t wait to get to the other two.

As a side note, I want to mention a book that had been recommended to me, and I read, during my research in Italy with the Old Man. I had forgotten about until I watched Rome Open City, when I was quickly reminded of it. Written by John Steinbeck and titled The Moon is Down, it was published during World War II and tells of life in an unnamed place that is occupied by enemy military forces. The book was written as a way to motivate people living under such conditions to cope and resist. It was translated into several languages and smuggled into many occupied European countries during the war. I remember someone telling me that in some countries being caught in possession of a copy of this book was punishable by death. I bought copies of it in both Italian and English. I mention it because I think someone who really enjoyed Rome Open City, especially for the historical events it portrayed, would likely also enjoy this little book.

Getting Started: Roberto Rossellini's War Trilogy

February 5, 2010

Before Watching “Roberto Rossellini’s War Trilogy”

I think I am at the right place and the right time to begin this little endeavor of watching and writing about each of the Criterion Collection releases. I don’t think it is mere coincidence that I start now. It’s something I think I may have been considering subconsciously for a couple of years, ever since I started keeping a journal of the movies I’ve watched. I think it was the hype and anticipation of Criterion’s 500^th spine number and the release of “Roberto Rossellini’s War Trilogy” that broke the idea loose from my subconscious and compelled me to finally take my trifle to the blogosphere.

Milestones are fun. The Criterion Collection just marked a significant milestone with the issuance of their 500^th spine number and “Roberto Rossellini’s War Trilogy” is a hell of a great way to mark it! No matter what the spine number, this release is widely hailed and enormously appreciated by movie lovers the whole world over (as long as they have the ability to play Region 1 DVDs anyway).

So, instead of starting at number one, I will start with number five hundred. Why not? Hell, I’ve been waiting for Criterion to bring us two of these three movies for years.

Back Story:

Way back when, in 2003, I was going to Italy for the first time. Before going, I wanted to learn as much Italian as I could. In addition to books, magazines, and CDs, I turned to Italian film to help immerse myself in the language as part of the learning process. The Criterion Collection offered the widest selection of Italian films and I snapped up as many titles as I could as quickly as I could. Watching the movies was a lot of fun, it did help me learn the language, and I was exposed to films I never would have been otherwise.

My reason for going to Italy was to experience one of the most fulfilling and enriching educational field trips I could have ever imagined. I had befriended a veteran of the U.S. Army (who I will refer to as “the Old Man,” but with great affection, mind you) whose division fought their way up the Italian peninsula in the last months of World War II. Every three years he goes on a reunion tour that travels the route taken in 1945 and I had been invited to join him.

The Old Man had told me his war stories before. He is passionate about those defining moments of his life and is always engaging when he talks of them. I never tired of hearing him talk about it, but his stories took on a much greater level of meaning when told in the surroundings where they happened. We visited battle sites and villages liberated by the Allied Forces.

I’ll never forget the tingle that raced down my spine when one of the Old Man’s comrades-in-arms lifted his shirt to show a roadmap of scars across his chest and belly from a decades-old injury he sustained in battle. After a surprise attack on a German fortification, he picked up a harmonica that a German soldier had left behind, and put it in his chest pocket. During a counter-attack, a bullet that would otherwise have pierced his heart was deflected by the harmonica and ripped through his abdomen. He took cover in a foxhole. It would be an impressive story any time, but what made it so surreal was that he was standing on the very spot he received the injury nearly sixty years earlier. The hillside was still pockmarked with foxholes that had been dug during the war. As he told this story, he re-enacted it and climbed down into the exact same foxhole he had taken cover in when the wound was fresh.

Hearing the stories and seeing the places of battle enthralled me with the history of it all. Some of the Old Man’s fellow veterans had written their memoirs. He was fond of saying that every soldier’s war was only three feet wide and that even two men going side-by-side into the same battle would have unique and personal stories of the event. The Old Man wanted to record in writing his own memories so that future generations of his family would never have to wonder what it was he did. I set out to help him with that task.

I was told of two movies I must watch. One was Rome Open City and the other was Paisan. It wasn’t without some effort that I was able to find a DVD titled Open City and a VHS copy of Paisan. I tried to watch them, but I had been spoiled by the Criterion Collection films I had already watched. I just couldn’t bear to watch either of these all the way through, thinking how wonderful it would be if Criterion Collection would some day present both of these movies. Over five years later, Criterion came through!

I was ecstatic when I learned of Criterion’s release of “Roberto Rossellini’s War Trilogy.” Though funds were very tight, I just had to have the set as soon as it was released! I wasn’t the only one to think that, however, as that Tuesday afternoon I checked the stores downtown only to find I was too late. They were all sold out. That Friday, I called around to some other, more distant stores, disappointed to learn that they too were out. I couldn’t bear going to the ‘burbs, so I had resigned myself to the possibility it would be some time before I was able to acquire a copy of my own, which sucked because I had already designated that weekend for hunkering down and watching all three movies in the trilogy and their supplements.

Just as I had given up on having the set any time soon, I was pleasantly surprised to receive an e-mail with a coupon for thirty percent off any single item online purchase, good for only three days. The coupon, coupled with an online discount, reduced the price by forty percent. Even though I wouldn’t have it for the weekend, I thought I may as well get it for a great deal and have it delivered to my door in time for the following weekend – better late than never. I placed the order right away and early the following week I got my package. (Don’t worry though. That weekend didn’t go to waste. In my searches for the “War Trilogy,” I found a store selling used DVDs and found a copy of The Human Condition, that was in great condition, for a steal. But that’s story that will just have to wait for another day.)

The Box Set:

I noticed that Criterion has done something a bit contrived in order for “Roberto Rossellini’s War Trilogy” to bear that pretty, round number, 500, on its spine. Up until now, for any box set with its own individual number (that didn’t have titles released earlier, such as the case with “The Adventures of Antoine Doines”), it is the box bearing the first number and the movies contained within numbered successively afterwards. (“Three Films by Hiroshi Teshigahara,” for example, is numbered 392 and the films are numbered 393 through 395.) For the Rossellini set, however, the box was given the highest number, with the three movie numbers inside being lower. So, if they had kept with precedent, the box would have been numbered 497 and Germany Year Zero would have borne that pretty milestone “500.” I don’t think it’s a matter of any great significance, but just noticed the quirk in their numbering method for this release. Regardless, the purpose is well served, and I do think it’s cool that this long-awaited and much-ballyhooed release is a significant milestone for Criterion.

It’s the content on the discs that matter most, of course, but I also enjoy when it is nicely packaged and well done. The movies are contained in a cardboard slipcase, each in their own cardboard book-style cover. Included is a booklet containing four essays, one addressing the entire trilogy, and one dedicated to each of the movies. There are stills from the movies adorning the inside and outside of the slip case, the DVD cases, and the booklet.

All in all, it is a beautiful presentation for three films that have long awaited the attention deserved of them, and for them to finally be released, packaged together, in the highest quality possible, including an abundance of supplemental and special features. I expect that the content of the DVDs will show that, in this case especially, you can sometimes judge a book by its cover.

I am excited to finally possess this pretty package. I really have waited years to see these three movies and I am anxious to get started on them! I will write and post about each of them individually as I watch them. Next stop, Rome Open City.

Watching and Reviewing the Entire Criterion Collection

February 4, 2010

Watching and Reviewing the Entire Criterion Collection:

I used to have a well-paying job. I used to have a good credit rating. I’ve always had a penchant indulging my obsessions. One such obsession was Criterion Collection DVD’s and I fed it compulsively when I could. My first Criterion purchase was almost exactly seven years ago and since then I have amassed a library of about 160 of the 501 spine numbers released to date.

Now that things are tight and I don’t have the means for whimsical indulgences, I must entertain myself in an economic manner. What better way than to work my way through the titles I already own? I’ve already made the investment, so I may as well wring all the value I can out of it.

Some years ago I started keeping a journal of the movies I’ve watched. I have about forty-five entries on file so far. That doesn’t include the dozen or so I lost when my hard drive crashed in spectacular fashion after going nearly eight months without backing it up. (That was one hell of a lesson learned the hard way! Take it from me, don’t put off backing up your files another day. Time Machine has been a godsend ever since that catastrophe.)

I’ve been making the most of my cheap entertainment in the past year. Over the holidays and through January I watched some twenty movies. To add to the fun, I’ve been reading reviews to enhance my understanding and appreciation of them. I found Roger Ebert’s “Great Movies” reviews and read through all of the movies I’ve already seen. It certainly helped pass the time on the trains, and I gained some more insight into those films during the ride.

I chanced upon Ebert’s article “The man who is scaling Mt. Criterion film by film” about a gentleman named Matthew Dessem and his blog “The Criterion Contraption” with the audacious goal of watching and writing about every film in the collection, in order. Since I’ve already been doing something of the sort, I thought to myself, Hey, what a great idea. I’m gonna steal it! Minus the “in order” part. So, thanks, Matthew, for the wonderful idea.

I am doing this only for personal pleasure, as an outlet for a pent up desire to write something. I’m not going to set any hard and fast rules for myself – if I don’t set high expectations, then I have a greater chance of achieving them. I am not competing with Mr. Dessem in any way. I am just taking a good idea and doing something similar. As I said, I am doing this only for me. If others get some enjoyment from it too, that’s great.

I am not a film critic. I am not an aspiring filmmaker, screenwriter, cinematopgrapher, director, or anything of the like. I hesitate to call myself a cinephile, even, but I suppose that is only because I have an overly narrow impression of the word that equates to “cinematic snobbishness.” The handy New Oxford American Dictionary pre-packaged on my computer has a very concise and simple definition of the word: “a person who is fond of motion pictures.” Of that definition, I suppose I do fit the bill. I am fond of motion pictures and that fondness has only grown ever since I stumbled on the Criterion Collection. My writings will be my personal view of the movie du juor. I will simply ramble on about how I felt about it, what I liked and didn’t like, what I expected and what I got, what I learned from it and about it, etc. I’m certain to digress quite a bit, maybe telling about the adventure I had in getting a certain DVD or how I first saw a movie on a rainy day and now associate that movie with rainy days. I’ll just go whichever way the wind blows.

It may interest some people, or it may bore the hell out of them. That’s assuming, of course, anyone decides to even read what I have written. My expectations are not great. All I can hope is that I do enjoy this little endeavor, and that maybe some others will too. If that is the case, I do look forward to hearing what others have to say, possibly learning a few more things along the way. I certainly invite friendly comments, additional anecdotes, constructive criticism, and lively discussion.

I am not going to set the goal of reviewing all of the films in the Criterion Collection. That, I’m sure, seems like a cop out right from the very beginning. Mainly, I believe if I don’t set a goal then I have a better chance of achieving it. This endeavor is supposed to be fun for me and I’m afraid that if I make it a goal there may come a point in time where it no longer feels like something fun. I want it to be something I want to do and not something I have to do. Another reason is I’m not going to delude myself by thinking I can even accomplish watching them all. I’ve calculated that Criterion has averaged about one new DVD spine number per week. So, if I were to average two per week, it would take ten years to catch up with them. Two movies per week is an ambitious goal. Yeah, I said I watched twenty movies in six weeks, but that was just watching them and plopping down some stream-of-consciousness drivel onto the page afterwards. If I’m going to do this, I want to take it to a somewhat higher plane. I would like to take in the special features and include them in my thoughts. I would also like for the writing to be more presentable, requiring more thought and editing. There will be more time involved.

Even so, if I did manage to continue at that pace I would work through everything I already have in the next eight months. After that, I would have to come up with the means to acquire the movies at a rate outpacing Criterion’s production. That’s really where I would come up on the short end of the deal, considering how I would prefer to own the movie if possible. So, basically, I’m just going to do what I can when I can and see where it goes. Really, I need to worry about watching first movie and not about the 750^th or 1,000^th. Talk about putting the cart before the horse!

Also, life just has a way of getting in the way of things. Setting out on a task that could conceivably last as long as a decade is quite the commitment. I have the time to start it now, but that passion may fade over time as other commitments arise. Who knows what life-consuming activities and responsibilities I may have in the future. I’ve looked at two other people who have started similar projects and see that they have tapered off over time. I don’t wish to sound defeatist right at the onset, but am only trying to be realistic in my outlook. So, I will just begin on the journey and see where it takes me. After all, it’s the journey that should be fun.

I’m not going to watch the movies in any particular order, but rather as the mood strikes. Really, I don’t know how anyone could conceive such a thing as going through them all in order, unless it would be to maybe watch a movie out of order, but not post the review of it. There are too many compelling reasons to watch them out of order. I’ve been dying for Rome Open City and Paisan to be released by Criterion ever since I first learned of their existence over five years ago. Now that they’re here, I couldn’t wait to get through a single other film before watching them, let alone five hundred! Eric Rohmer passed away last month. As a result, I watched his “Six Moral Tales.” Watching Seven Samurai made me want to watch Ran. Watching La commare secca made me want to watch Rashomon. So, I will simply watch them at will and see what comes of it. That may become a detriment, I know, and I may have to, at some point, resort to a plan. For now, I will begin with the ones I have in my possession and worry about the future in the future.

I don’t plan to develop any kind of rating system. It will only be a matter of how much I liked a movie or how much it moved me and in what way.

I do plan to write primarily about Criterion titles I’ve seen on DVD, but there will be exceptions, though, if I see a movie that I just can’t help but say something about. I watched Inglourious Basterds on DVD recently, and would have something to say about it. I had the good fortune of seeing Godard’s 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her and Made in U.S.A. on the big screen last year and would want to share that even though it wasn’t from the DVD. I also recently saw Lars von Trier’s Antichrist at the theater and wouldn’t be able to resist not mentioning it either. I watched Sisters and Carnival of Souls on The Auteurs. I was pleased to have watched the movies, but the experience just didn’t seem to be complete, and I don’t know if I would necessarily make an entry. I have a non-Criterion copy of This is Spinal Tap that I picked up cheap last week. I won’t post about it because it’s not the Criterion version. So, the bulk will be Criterion Collection DVD releases, but there will be guests from time to time, including Eclipse titles.

As of now, I have not seen a single movie on Blu-ray. I don’t have any Blu-ray copies or the technology to play them if I did. When it happens that I have the opportunity to watch a Blu-ray edition, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen that title, I will review it as such. If it is one I’ve seen and already reviewed from DVD, I can see making another entry if only to gush about “how fucking awesome!” the Blu-ray picture quality is. Yet again, I am putting the cart before the horse though. I’ll worry about crossing that Blu-ray bridge when I get to it.

Speaking of watching and reviewing movies more than once, I think I will do just that. If I watch a movie again, no matter on what medium, I will do a new review of it for I’m certain to have gained something new from it.

I don’t plan to put any limit on the number of words I write, minimum or maximum. I will only use the number of words I think a title deserves, or that I’m in the mood to write. If this first entry is any indication, I do tend toward wordiness. That may put some people off, but I’m doing it primarily for me and I figure that if I have an attention span long enough to write it, there may be a handful of others with the attention span to read it.

I don’t plan to recycle of the writings I’ve already filed before starting this venture. This blog will only be for movies I’ve watched after today. So, if I want to make a post of any of those twenty movies I recently watched, I will have to watch it again first – and they’re all worth watching again.

As for a blog title, I went with “The Criterion Quixotic” for a few reasons. I wanted the title to contain the word “Criterion” to make the connection to the Collection. I do like the alliterative sound, but using different letters. There is nothing more appropriate than “Quixotic” because, as I’ve already indicated, this is quite the quixotic adventure. And, because Matthew Dessem has done such a wonderful job with his blog so far, I wanted a similar title as bit of an homage to the standard bearer.

Now, without further ado, I will mosey on to the adventure I have set upon.