NinadeL

Ah, those terribly long Claude Lelouch films in which the camera is always moving, and at least an hour out of the three is completely unnecessary. For some it's a pleasure, for others it's an ordeal. It's romantic to devote an entire film to the brief romance between Edith Piaf and the married boxer Marcel Cerdan (middleweight champion of the world 1948-9), but the parallels! We watch Piaf and Cerdan in each other's arms for barely two hours, and it's quite lively. She learns who Joe Louis is and thinks about the rules of the cruel sport according to the Marquess of Queensberry so they have something to talk about together, and he only boxes where she has concerts lined up. It's a chapter in the lives of both, and not uninteresting to admirers of sport and art. But it wouldn't be Lelouch if he hadn't created an accompanying imaginary love story in the letters, which perhaps should have added gravitas to the animality between Piaf and Cerdan.

I would definitely skip Jean Hanff Korelitz's mediocre thriller, but then again, in serial form, which follows the good stuff from Big Little Lies (based on the similarly mediocre Liane Moriarty), it's great. Contemporary quality TV is good for filmmakers left in their genre and mature film stars for whom the small screen is an interesting change. Kidman side-by-side with Grant creates tension without the slightest hesitation, letting the likes of Lily Rabe, whom television has defined so far, mature alongside them. Sometimes a miniseries with big cliffhangers is quite alright. It is, after all, a trick as old as cinema itself. #hbo

An updated retelling of the classic heritage novel by E. M. Foster is especially satisfying in places where the viewer is already familiar with the earlier film. We get a nice shift in the actors' generations and understanding of the time shortly before Word War I. Emma Thompson is followed up on by Hayley Atwell (both of them have so much unexpected energy), Vanessa Redgrave by Julia Ormond (what fragility they were able to find in each other is a real surprise), Helena Bonham Carter by Philippa Coulthard (the difference here is very interesting, young Carter used to be such a youngster, while Coulthard is life energy herself) and Anthony Hopkins by Matthew Macfadyen (which pushes the age difference a bit)... The more I view these modern classics, the more important I find them as a tool for understanding today. This is because the situations don't change, the nature of the people doesn’t change, and the world just changes colors. Why do people consider the last film the weakest? Probably because it's the most Forster-esque. #bbc

Disney's 25th feature film is a loose adaptation of The Chronicles of Prydain, an older juvenile fantasy from the 1960s whose adaptation was intended to respond to the genre's popularity at the time. Given the slump the Mouseketeers were experiencing at the time, the situation should have changed with The Little Mermaid, but that film was nowhere in sight. It's actually a shame that The Black Cauldron flopped too, though it is too dark for Disney and too childish for proper fantasy. In fact, I think that if they had welcomed Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs into the Mouse family back then, they would have made the only right decision of the time. This is because it is very similar to The Black Cauldron in terms of style, monsters, and the dark passages, but its Disney message is much stronger and makes more sense.

The BBC's latest transcript of Les Mis is not bad. They approached the canonized substance with respect as usual, with a big budget, but also with the modern viewer in mind. With the older transcriptions, I often thought that many aspects of the novel needed to be commented on and explained after 150 years. I certainly don't mind Hugo's socially critical comments - on the contrary, I find them to be important. And they had a lot of good ideas at the BBC. The Thénardiers, for example, are very interesting here, simply because they are not a tight-knit group of bad guys, but they have problems with each other and they are personalities masterfully working with pretense. I really appreciated the entire story of Fantine with Félix Tholomyès before her departure to Montfermeil, because there is rarely any time left for that... It's not perfect of course, a lot of the questions I had with the older versions are answered here, but others are asked again that I would consider explained. However, it’s good to open up the classic debate on whether it is still appropriate to engage with the classic 19th-century novel today and what we can take from it for today (other than meeting some minimum in the context of a high school diploma or general overview, which in itself will never be sufficient for real adult life). The finale beautifully combines the action and the denouement of the individual fates, there is no lack of faith in a better tomorrow, but the reality that people like Thénardier continued their terrible lives in the colonies and the misery of course did not disappear from the streets even after the cry for freedom on the barricades in 1832... #bbc

The differences between the French and American transcriptions of Les Misérables from 1934 and 1935 can be used to explain the full difference between European cinema and Hollywood. One could not ask for a better example. France is realistic, faithful, unafraid of extreme length, reverential (which is not to say backward in any way), formally impressive, and influenced by Impressionism. On the other hand, Hollywood classically underestimates the viewer, shrinks the main themes to the "interesting and action-packed" and tones down anything that might get the audience too excited. Personally, I have the biggest problem with how Fantine's story turned out. It doesn't sink nearly far enough to make sense and even gets its own little happy ending in the middle of the film. It is absolutely fascinating to watch both versions side by side. Nothing against the work of Fredric March, Charles Laughton, or Richard Boleslawski, but Darryl F. Zanuck knew what he was doing. If it was just a historical rarity, I wouldn't mind. But it was this version that influenced the rewriting of Les Misérables for generations to come, who didn't even perceive Hugo.

A gritty retelling of a brutal novel. Europe's first sound adaptation is one of the great films of the 1930s, and on many levels it goes to the core. The runtime is of course generous, but numerous other transcriptions also struggled in one way or another in their attempt to shorten the 2000 pages. The performances match and often exceed the French standard of the time. The highlight is the story of poor Fantine in the very first part (the portrayal of this character is always a challenge, Hugo really gives us a lot of information about her, and here we have the opportunity to get to know Fantine before she meets her fate, which is why the sight of her death is so painful). The loathsome Thénardiers reign supreme in the second episode, their character traits easily overshadowed by the itch and disgust of their characters, settings and dwellings. And, of course, episode three shows the drama on and under the barricade. The time they spent on it was worth it.

A weak concoction of the 80s phenomenon, a short modern adventure that will appeal only to those who are truly nostalgic. I definitely have a much better opinion of the modern comic that was published by Dynamite in 2018/2019.

It’s too ambitious and French to the core. Jean Valjean's modern 20th-century tale is a bold topic, but it's hard to praise it for its clarity even where one hasn't read Hugo from the cradle. This lavish three-hour fresco follows the cruel first half of the 20th century and contrasts it with the classic fates of Javert, Fantine, and Cosette and their modern counterparts. Justice has never been in a more difficult situation. A big positive is Alessandra Martines (Princess Fantaghiró) longing for a new role as an actress in serious films.

A commemorative co-production film about the making of a co-production film in the 39th year at Cinecittà studios in Italy. It’s too bad that the fictional Tosca was not actually created, as then the statement would have had more power. Puccini's beautiful opera as an excuse for an Italian film directed by a Hungarian, starring a German and an Englishman, symbolically illustrates the tensions between nations and individuals in spite of these facts. Alfred Molina is excellent.