Z (1969).

Review #1966: Z.

Cast: 

Yves Montand (The Deputy), Irene Papas (Hélène), Jean-Louis Trintignant (The Examining Magistrate), François Périer (Public prosecutor), Jacques Perrin (Photojournalist), Charles Denner (Manuel), Pierre Dux (The General), Georges Géret (Nick), Bernard Fresson (Matt), Marcel Bozzuffi (Vago), Julien Guiomar (The Colonel), Magali Noël (Nick's Sister), and Renato Salvatori (Yago) Directed by Costa-Gavras.

Review: 

"Politics. They always want to talk to me about politics. But for me politics is everyday life, the way we deal with other people and the way they deal with us. In a certain way, I can say all movies are political. But there's another thing about politics—power. A director has power over other people. And above me, there are people who have power over me. Politics is how we use that power, to be kind or aggressive, and how other people do the same with us."

There are various directors of political and social quality to note, with Costa-Gavras being a key force in that aspect for world cinema. He was born Konstantinos Gavras in 1933 in Loutra Iraias, Arcadia, Greece. His father served in the Greek Resistance against the Nazis in World War II, but his backing of the Communists within the National Liberation Front later caused his son to not be allowed to study in Greek universities when civil war in the country broke out. As such, Costa-Gavras moved to France after turning 18. He studied literature at the University of Paris and was planning to study law before deciding to study film at Institut des hautes études cinématographiques (IDHEC) in 1956. He soon served as an assistant director for people such as Rene Clair (who he cited as saying that everything for a director happens in the editing room) or René Clément (who he cited as teaching him the biggest lesson in technique) during this time. The Sleeping Car Murders (1965) was the debut feature film for Costa-Gavras, which was a mystery film. It was followed by Shock Troops (1967), an action-drama movie about French resistance fighters. Z (1969) was his breakthrough film. Overall, he has directed numerous movies in a career that has spanned a half-century, primarily spending his time directing French productions (with a few English exceptions and his one Greek production in 2019), such as Missing, released in 1982 that adapted a book covering the disappearance of American journalist Charles Horman in the 1973 Chilean coup d'état, or with Music Box, released in 1989 about war crime charges, and others such as Amen., released in 2002 that talked about the relationship of the Vatican and Nazi Germany in World War II. On May 22, 1963, anti-war activist and Greek politican Grigoris Lambrakis was struck by two far-right extremists driving in a three-wheeled vehicle after having done a public speech. He died five days later, sparking a wide demonstration and investigation, headed by investigator Christos Sartzetakis. The investigation saw plenty of connections revealed of the police and army to extremists, but the murderers got off due to the favoring of the state. As such, the movie is based on the 1967 novel of the same name (based on the first letter of the Greek word Zi, meaning "he lives!") by Vassilis Vassilikos that detailed the events that followed the death of Lambrakis. Sartzetakis was a Greek writer and journalist who had been sent into exile from his native Greece following the coup of 1967, which saw the military junta take over the country. The screenplay was written by Jorge Semprún and Costa-Gavras. The film was shot mostly in Algeria while being shot mostly in the French language with a bit of Russian and English involved without identifying the country of setting, complete with a disclaimer that says the resemblances between the movie and actual events are entirely on purpose with no coincidences.

It is evident to note the influence the film had on many filmmakers: Oliver Stone mentions the film often as an influence on his filmmaking. Steven Soderbergh wanted Traffic (2000) to capture "that great feeling of things that are caught, instead of staged, which is what we were after." William Friedkin figured out how to shoot The French Connection (1971) by watching this film, which he felt was shot like a documentary. Simply put, it clearly had an effective power on those who watched the film. This is the kind of movie that introduces you to people high in power that want equate their political opponents as "mildew of the mind". It is a political thriller that grips your imagination and never lets go for 127 minutes, finding plenty to say about just how far justice can lead when power lurks beneath the surface. Whether one goes into the movie knowing anything about European politics or not, the important thing to remember is to go into things with a clear head. Greece would not have democracy until 1974, but it doesn't diminish the overall importance of a movie that is essentially a primal scream for sanity, one where its ending will stay with you for quite some time. Life may be followed by death, but that doesn't mean that law is necessarily followed by order. There is no one actor that dominates the film in terms of screentime, but Montand obviously makes the key impression needed as a pillar of would-be hope, which proves tactful in setting up a moment of history (as one might put it) that has human vitality. Papas is the only Greek actor in the cast, but her expression in the face of despondency is all one needs. Trintignant sears through with inquisitive definition that is probably the most clinical charming role of the film, or at least right next to Perrin and his restless energy that pops in now and then. Again, the movie isn't really about one defining performance but instead an organic mix of actors that are each distinct in their own little roles and requirements, such as the adversarial Dux or the hired guns in Bozzuffi and Salvatori that seem completely convincing to what is needed. Costa-Gavras and his crew, such as cinematographer Raoul Coutard and his editor Françoise Bonnot managed to create a great thriller that never seems crafted in artifice or pretentiousness, always having a grip on one's attention wherever it goes in the chase for facts and some sort of reason in a possibly reasonless world. The movie speaks truth to power in the inevitability that comes with unchecked ideology. Its cry for vision that does not vanish regardless of who dies for it makes it one for the ages in enduring passion, one with a bitter ending perfect for the moment that does not erase it as worthwhile entertainment for information. Costa-Gavras crafted a worthy political feature with plenty of interest to spark for all curious in terms of history and beyond that makes for quality truth in film with great execution.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

I hope you folks enjoyed the second edition of New Directors Month in January. I hope you enjoyed the attempt at trying to include as many American and world cinema movies as possible, which saw countries like Iran, North Korea, and Algeria be featured for the first time. There were a handful of finalists in films & new directors in the 18-review month that missed the cut, some of which were the following: Goin' to Town [Alexander Hall], New Women [Cai Chusheng], Berlin: Symphony of a Metropolis [Walter Ruttmann], I Am Cuba [Mikhail Kalatozov], Possessor [Brandon Cronenberg], and Don Jon [Joseph Gordon-Levitt]. There may yet be a place to spotlight these films this year or whenever it seems appropriate. As always, suggestions are welcome.

Now, onto Black History Month.

The French Connection.

Review #1438: The French Connection.

Cast: 
Gene Hackman (Det. Jimmy "Popeye" Doyle), Fernando Rey (Alain "Frog One" Charnier), Roy Scheider (Det. Buddy "Cloudy" Russo), Tony Lo Bianco (Salvatore "Sal" Boca), Marcel Bozzuffi (Pierre Nicoli), Frédéric de Pasquale (Henri Devereaux), and Bill Hickman (Bill Mulderig) Directed by William Friedkin (#037 - The Exorcist)

Review: 
"If you're going to make a film or an album of music or a painting, you cannot afford to stop and think what other people will think of it. You've got to take into consideration what your editor thinks, if, say, you're a writer. But I don't have anyone to answer to. I make a film because I want to. Sometimes they're successful, sometimes they're not, but the way I think about my films is always very personal." - William Friedkin

"Acting was something I wanted to do since I was 10 and saw my first movie, I was so captured by the action guys. Jimmy Cagney was my favorite. Without realizing it, I could see he had tremendous timing and vitality." - Gene Hackman

All decades could be studied for their grittiness, but perhaps no decade had it more interesting than the 1970s. After a decade of shifting in Hollywood and within the culture, it only figures that some of the best films from this era would be ones with tinges of moral ambiguity and raw disenchantment of the angry young man, where law and order was a catchphrase rather than a show. Accordingly, it should only make sense that the first R-rated film to win an Academy Award for Best Picture would be The French Connection, based on the non-fiction book by Robin Moore released two years prior. Produced by 20th Century Fox, it featured the pursuit by two detectives (inspired by actual detectives Eddie Egan and Sonny Grosso, who both served as technical advisors in the film) of the New York Police Department of a substance smuggler in New York City. It should prove fitting that such a frank and urgent film came from a director with humble backgrounds in William Friedkin. The Chicago native was the son of a salesman and nurse that grew into becoming interested in films in his teenage years, viewing films such as Les Diaboliques, Psycho, and Citizen Kane (the last being the one to cement his love for the cinema). He went from working in the WGN-TV mail room to directing live TV shows and documentaries when he was 18, starting with The People vs. Paul Crump (1962). Incidentally, one documentary that Friedkin directed was The Thin Blue Line (1966), which focused on the police force and problems of combating increased crime. He started his feature film career with Good Times (1967), which featured Sonny and Cher in a comedy musical western. Of his first four films, only The Night They Raided Minsky's (1968) proved any success with audiences or critics. And yet here he is, directing a film under the production of Philip D'Antoni, who had previously produced Bullitt (1968) for Fox only after several rejections and a small budget of $1.8 million dollars. There were a few follow-ups to this film of sorts. The Seven-Ups (1973) was directed by D'Antoni  while having Scheider as the main star as a tough-guy cop with Grosso as technical advisor and Bill Hickman back as stunt coordinator. French Connection II (1975) was a fictional sequel directed by John Frankenheimer that had Hackman and Rey return to their roles that was a mild success.

Of all the unlikely things, Hackman not being the first, second or even third choice must rank high up the list. Famed newspaper columnist Jimmy Breslin was actually in the running at one point in time (he would lose out in light of his inability to drive), while Jackie Gleason was thought to be bad for box office with the failure of Gigot (1962), and Peter Boyle disapproved of the violent themes. Hackman, who was known for supporting roles such as Bonnie and Clyde (1967) and I Never Sang for My Father (1970) after going from the Pasadena Playhouse to doorman-between-acting, was found at the last moment. Similarly, Scheider had just a few small roles to his credit before this film (along with Klute) helped rise him to stardom. To have the actors get a feel for the cops they would portray, they patrolled with Egan and Grosso for a month. One can see that this proved effective in making for tremendous performances from Hackman and Scheider in how grizzled and hard-edged they prove for a film that serves as a key point for police procedural films for its era. Hackman proves especially great in showing the maniacal drive and act that one seems to need to have to be on the beat to take a criminal down on and off the clock with intensity, while Scheider follows along with measured conviction; probably the best sequence with the two is their first, with them chasing a criminal down the street that turns into questioning with offbeat fervor from Hackman ("Did you ever pick your feet in Poughkeepsie?") in a Santa suit. Rey (who came into international status with collaborations with Orson Welles and Luis Bunuel films in the 1960s and 1970s) is elegantly devious to fit this cat-and-mouse game of cops and drug kingpins without trouble. Boca and the others (including Egan and Grosso in brief roles) fill in the gritted atmosphere of thrills and action fitting to be talked about as a neo noir. Perhaps having Shaft writer Ernest Tidyman behind this screenplay helps in making this 104-minute film really tick with tension and competence. It might seem quaint to the eyes of those who have encountered plenty of procedurals in the near half century since release, but one has to start somewhere with grimy gripping films like this. The chase sequence (which had a mix of Hackman and stunt driver Hickman driving) is excellent to see play out in real traffic between a car and a train with careful angles and a poster-worthy showdown moment to boot. By the time it gets to its bittersweet finale, one knows they have watched an interesting film with plenty of looks and sounds of New York City from an era long ago with documentary-style filming from Friedkin that serves the film well in driving one up the wall and never letting things go too easily. As a whole, This is a film with a controlled obsession of sordid realism that makes for a classic of the age that had people like Hackman and Friedkin deservingly reap the rewards of for the rest of the era.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.