Wednesday, August 23, 2006
SCHIZO
Today's NYTimes Best 1176 Film was John Huston's
This is the other MR; the one about Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec or José Ferrer walking on his knees. Not the one with all the inappropriate songs that Baz Luhrmann made in 2002.
The movie is split between tableau vivant renderings of the artwork with the work itself and a clunky plot with, well, José Ferrer walking around on his knees (or a double) sounding out platitudinous lines.
He also plays his own disapproving father. In the end, don't we all?
Zsa Zsa Gabor is also featured and, while her part is not major, her irritation level is. She plays a singer and it is dubbed and Zsa cannot find her mouth or her ass with both hands. She is always out of synch.
The other thing is that this is one of those films in which the 'language' decision was made the wrong way. Rather than speak in one clear language, either english or french, everyone has to speak with a 'french accent' or their idea of one.
I am sure that this is because some of the actors are french and really have french accents so they made everyone do it. So silly.
There is melodrama. Lautrec was an alcoholic on top of his physical problems (congenital bone mending problems after a fall--mom and pop were first cousins).
The best part is the painting and artwork. Did I say that? The scenery is often (but not always) done in the Lautrec style, hence inconsistent. When it was good it was very very good.
When this came out, I was a junior in high school. I am sure that we were urged to go see this film as art appreciation. There were others at this time. Leonardo, Van Gogh, others.
But, in going two ways at once—melodrama one minute, art the next—it ends up in neither camp; having no center.
Incidentally, Ferrer used a dolly to 'walk' with others and mimed the walking for his upper body. All too often it looks like he is riding on a skate-board.
A 2 out of Netflix5.
I have to admit that I skipped about ten minutes here and there. I could not bear anymore of the particular chapter.
