A QUIET PASSION - Review By Greg Klymkiw - TIFF 2016 - Davies Does Dickinson Delectably

CYNTHIA NIXON and KEITH CARRADINE

A Quiet Passion (2016)
Dir. Terence Davies
Starring: Cynthia Nixon, Emma Bell, Keith Carradine,
Jennifer Ehle, Joanna Bacon, Duncan Duff, Jodhi May

Review By Greg Klymkiw

THERE is a word
Which bears a sword
Can pierce an armed man.
It hurls its barbed syllables,—
At once is mute again,
But where it fell
The saved will tell
On patriotic day,
Some epauletted brother
Gave his breath away. - Emily Dickinson

We trust, in plumed procession
For such, the Angels go -
Rank after Rank, with even feet -
And Uniforms of snow.

There is war in this exquisite dramatic biography of poet Emily Dickinson. There is violence and there are battles. It is all, however, like all of the greatest films by Terence Davies, very, very quiet.

The war waged in A Quiet Passion is one against patriarchal propriety - both societal and religious. Davies presents us with the life of Dickinson from her adolescence (Emma Bell) through adulthood (Cynthia Nixon) and to her sad, painful death at age 55 from Bright's (kidney) Disease. The story is told via the trademarks of Davies - stately, gorgeously-composed tableaux with an accent on measured delivery of dialogue that is rooted exquisitely in the period with which the film is set (in Amherst, Massachusetts from about 1846 to 1866).

There is considerable emphasis placed on Dickinson's relationships with her family and how this inspires and informs her gifts as a poet. Her mother (Joanna Bacon) lives a lonely life and indeed Emily comments, "You always seem so sad." Her mother responds, "My life has passed as if in a dream." And damned if Emily will float gently into the good night. She rages on paper.




Terence Davies has always displayed a special gift for extolling the virtues and servitude of mothers, but he has also been acutely sensitive to portraying patriarchal rule in all its violence and unfairness. Here, Emily's relationship with her father (Keith Carradine) is especially replete with conflict and love. Her father clearly values Emily's individuality, but displays considerable conflict within himself and the demands society places on him. He is on one hand, proud and accepting, yet on the other, prone to anger and frustration over Emily's refusal to be an individual, but to also "play the games" required of a woman.

Terence Davies (Distant Voices Still Lives, The Long Day Closes) is unquestionably the greatest living filmmaker in the UK and amongst the world's best filmmakers - ever. I can think of no better filmmaker to tackle the challenge of biographically portraying this great woman of letters. His indelible use of music has always been unique and all his own. Film after film he delivers the most beautiful, heartbreakingly beautiful montages set to music - always evocative of narrative, character and tone.

Though A Quiet Passion has its fair share of such musical montages, Davies is not one to rest idly on his laurels. Given that his film is about one of the greatest poets of all time, he utilizes his poetic approach to cinema by using what might be the greatest music of all - the music of poetry - Dickinson's, of course.

Though there are far too many of these great sequences to catalogue, there are two which occur back-to-back which are not only great examples of what a magnificent screenplay Davies has wrought, but proof positive of his consummate artistry as a filmmaker. Davies etches a particularly harrowing verbal joust between Emily and her father and in its aftermath, he focuses upon the conflicting feelings of anger and sorrow on her father's face as we get an offscreen reading of Dickinson's Love poem XLIV "THERE is a word Which bears a sword". As if this isn't enough to set one's tears into squirt-overdrive, Davies brilliantly follows up the scene with a montage to place the argument-scene in a historical/thematic context by delivering a series of Civil War images set to Dickinson's "To fight around is very brave".

Prepare to lose it emotionally during these two montages. God knows, I did.




As per usual, Davies inspires his entire cast to render superlative performances. Cynthia Nixon knocks the wind out of you as Dickinson (her off-screen readings of the poetry are deeply moving) and an almost unrecognizable Keith Carradine chills to the bone as Emily's father.

What might be the films's greatest triumph is that one could go into it knowing nothing about Emily Dickinson and emerge with both an edifying cinematic experience and a reason to get to know her. This is indeed triumphant - oh-so delicate and oh-so quiet.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***** 5-Stars

A Quiet Passion is a PNP (Pacific Northwest Pictures) release and plays in the TIFF 2016 Masters series.

I, DALIO - OR THE RULES OF THE GAME - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Kudos to Toronto's Jewish Film Festival (TJFF16) presenting the NorthAmerican Premiere of one of the best portraits of acting in film in years, maybe ever! A startling portrait of racism in casting.

To be a great Jewish actor like Marcel Dalio
in Pre-War Paris meant to always play a Jew or Arab
and in either ethnicity, play a pimp, snitch, woman-beater,
gun-runner, smuggler, usurer, killer or coward.

I, Dalio - or the Rules of the Game (2015)
Dir. Mark Rappaport
Starring: Voice of Tito De Pinho as Marcel Dalio

Review By Greg Klymkiw

To be a great actor in pre-war France meant you were marginalized in ways that today's diversity-in-film whiners can't even begin to imagine.

I, Dalio - or the Rules of the Game is so damn wonderful. The picture completely immerses you the world of French actor Marcel Dalio and though it runs a mere 33 minutes, the picture never feels rushed and yet, when it's over, one feels replete in all the good ways movies should make you feel. You hope, youou wish it could keep going. Director Mark (Rock Hudson's Home Movies, From the Journals of Jean Seberg) Rappaport achieves what all filmmakers really want and that's to leave their audiences wanting more.

Meticulously, lovingly researched, we hear Dalio as a "character" telling his experiences as an actor in pre-war France, wartime America and postwar France and America. Dalio's "voice" is superbly rendered by Tito De Pinho with such passion and verve, we feel no doubt that the words are literally diary/journal/autobiography writings.

Using generous film clips, we discover how antisemitic France was. Dalio's looks forced him to play the Jew, or in some cases, the Arab. In every case he was portrayed as a snivelling pimp, black marketeer, snitch, gun-runner, petty criminal, usurer, killer and coward. Though his characters were never directly referred to as "a dirty Jew" (or Arab). In one film he is described as France's most successful usurer which was tantamount to saying he was a Jew.

Dalio as "Frenchy" in To Have and Have Not.
Dalio in Casablanca: "Your winnings, sir."

The only role he played in which he was allowed to be a Jew, but with a fully fleshed-out character and a positive spin in France was in Jean Renoir's WWI prison war drama, La Grande Illusion, and years later in Renoir's The Rules of the Game.

Leaving France for America, just prior to the Nazi occupation, Dalio was no longer singled out to be cast as a Jew or Arab. He became the dashing "Frenchman". In Howard Hawks's To Have and Have Not, Dalio played the heroic resistance smuggler "Frenchy". Inexplicably uncredited, Dalio gets one of the best moments in Casablanca when he approaches local constabulary Renault (Claude Rains) after the Vichy cop complains about the illegal gambling in Rick's Café Américain and Dalio, immediately shoving a wad of cash into Renault's hand, utters the immortal line, "Your winnings, Captain."

Dalio in the title role of Rabbi Jacob!

Post-war France brought somewhat less racist roles, but again, he was better cast in American cinema, once again, as a charming Frenchman. Finally, in France during the 1970s, Dalio was cast in the great comedic role of Rabbi Jacob

Rappaport's film is an exquisite memory piece and blessed with a very cool narrative structure. Ultimately, we see the story of a great actor, Jew or not, eventually playing what he was more than qualified to play - a romantic figure and a Frenchman. The whole affair, though, is played with a heartbreaking blend of triumph and sadness.

And I reiterate, what the great Dalio went through, makes contemporary "Oscars so White" actors in comparison, sound like mere killjoy crybabies.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***** 5-Stars

I, Dalio - or the Rules of the Game makes its North American premiere at the Toronto Jewish Film Festival 2016. Try to see it on a big screen, preferably on a programme featuring Jean Renoir's La Grande Illusion and The Rules of the Game, but if the opportunity does not arise, you can watch it on Fandor.

How Edgar G. Ulmer, the director of DETOUR and THE BLACK CAT made two cool Ukrainian-Language films for a megalomaniacal Ukrainian/Canadian/American impresario-dancer-film producer-thief. "THESHOWMAN AND THE UKRAINIAN CAUSE" is a terrific biographical portrait of Vasile Avramenko by Orest T. Martynowych that sheds new light upon ethnic cinema in North America - Book Review By Greg Klymkiw

The Showman and the Ukrainian Cause (2014)
Folk Dance, Film and the Life of Vasile Avramenko
University of Manitoba Press, 219 pages
By Orest T. Martynowych

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Anyone who knows and loves cinema is a huge fan of the brilliant Edgar G. Ulmer. His most memorable titles include the nasty film noir classic Detour, which he made for the mega-poverty-row studio PRC (Producers Releasing Corporation), People on Sunday, the astonishing co-directorial effort with Robert Siodmak (a strangely beautiful experimental docudrama from a Billy Wilder script and Fred Zinneman handling the moving camera duties) and the grimly black comic shocker The Black Cat for Universal Pictures (starring Boris Karloff, uttering some of the most ridiculous Black Mass incantations in movie history: "in vino verities", "in wine is truth" and my personal favourite, "reductio ad absurdum est", "it is shown to be impossible").

Before directing films, Ulmer had an amazing career working in the art departments under the tutelage of such greats as Rouben Mamoulian, F.W. Murnau, Clarence Brown, Fritz Lang, Max Reinhardt, Erich von Stroheim, G.W Pabst and even Sergei Eisenstein on the ill-fated Que Viva Mexico. The list, frankly, goes on and on, plus the influence of these great artists clearly provided so much inspiration for Ulmer.

Unfortunately, Ulmer's promising major studio career began and ended with The Black Cat. Ulmer was forced to reshoot many sequences to tone down the film's utter insanity, but mostly to add a sense of audience-identification with the floridly overwrought characters. This was, perhaps, not his most egregious act since he acquiesced without much protest and handled it prodigiously (still maintaining a wildly nutty sense of expressionism to the piece). Ulmer's aptitude for maintaining his voice whilst attending to the demands of marketplace concerns held him in very good stead throughout his strange and wonderful career.

Ulmer's biggest "crime" was falling in love with the wrong person. Universal topper Carl Laemmle Jr. viciously blacklisted the filmmaker for daring to woo, then win the hand of his script girl who'd once been married to the mad mogul's favourite nephew. As preposterous as this sounds, Ulmer was eventually forced to make a living on low budget items for independent production companies. This is how Hollywood worked (and still does, actually). Ulmer, however, was probably the real winner here. His wife Shirley not only proved to be the love of his life, but she became his valued creative partner for well over forty years.

Immediately after this, Ulmer was hired to direct From Nine to Nine, a British "quota quickie" (many of which were made in Commonwealth Dominions) in Montreal. The budget and arduous working conditions on this film (gloriously restored in the 90s by the brilliant Canadian archivist John J.D. Turner), in addition to horrendously huge medical expenditures upon their return to the USA, forced Ulmer and Shirley into abject poverty.

Little did Ulmer realize that his deliverance from total obscurity and poverty would rest with one of the most forgotten movie producers in movie history, a bonkers Ukrainian emigre by the name of Vasile Avramenko.

* * * * *

"The Showman and the Ukrainian Cause" is the terrific new book by Orest T. Martynowych which combines meticulously researched scholarship with a compulsive prose style. It handily delivers superb non-fiction literature detailing the life and career of a visionary madman devoted to maintaining and promoting Ukrainian culture throughout the world, in spite of its repression under both Communism and the intensely rigid policies of Russification in post-revolutionary Soviet-dominated Ukraine.

Vasile Avramenko, a Ukrainian-born dancer, choreographer, teacher and eventually, film producer, led a mostly itinerant and beleaguered life - saying and doing whatever he had to do in order to raise funds for his occasionally brilliant and most often, cockamamie cultural initiatives. He was a thief - pure and simple, but one gets the impression that his desires were less linked to lining his own pockets, save for when he needed to live and continue his mad work. The bottom line is that he was a scattered, often-megalomaniacal, truly-visionary and irredeemably poor businessman.

He had dreams though, and his loftiest fantasia was to create an industrial and cultural model for Ukrainian-language cinema in Hollywood, one which would generate motion picture product for Ukrainians amongst the diaspora as well as opportunities for Ukrainian artists in North America, on-and-of-screen, to ply their trade.

Alas, he pretty much bolloxed this up, but what he did, was open a door for one of America's greatest directors to ply his trade and become, during the 30s, the true king of "ethnic" cinema in America. Ulmer made two Ukrainian-language features for Avramenko, Natalka Poltavka and Cossacks in Exile, both rich in culture, folklore and as dazzlingly directed as one could want, especially given the cut-rate budgets afforded to the work. Avramenko's belief in Ulmer led to his long career generating cinema aimed at the Jewish diaspora as well as African-America audiences.

Ulmer's work in this field eventually led to his long-term contract with PRC which allowed him a great deal of creative control and opportunities to generate a (mostly) solid body of work, including the aforementioned Detour.

Martynowych's book allows for a fascinating glimpse into the world of financing, producing and marketing ethnic cinema in North America as well as a detailed look at how Avramenko's productions fell under the horrendous spectre of Anti-Semitism when noted Ukrainians including, sadly for me, the musical impresario Olexandr Koshets, whose name has long been affixed to my late, great Uncle Volodomyr Klymkiw's important Ukrainian choir, the O. Koshetz Memorial Choir in Winnipeg.

Koshetz hated Avramenko and led the charge with public criticisms of the films based on his nasty, spurious suggestions that they could not have been purely "Ukrainian", replete with inaccuracies and were instead "little Russian" since the director and many of Avramenko's creative team were Jewish. Even Avramenko and Ulmer's staunchest defender was discredited by Koshetz as being s "Ukrainian-Jew" and Avramenko himself, mostly due to his megalomania, would occasionally downplay Ulmer's contributions.

Still, Ulmer directed the hell out of these pictures and in spite of spotty returns at the box office, they garnered wildly enthusiastic reviews in the mainstream press. Elements do exist out there for these important films and I do hope that specialty companies, either the award winning Milestone Films or Kino-Lorber, will undertake proper new 4K transfers and Blu-Ray releases of these two fine works in Ulmer's canon.

In the meantime, though, we have Martynowych's great book. It offers top-of-the-line materials for Slavic Studies and Film Studies scholars in addition to pretty much anyone interested in one hell of a fascinating tale of a genuinely visionary nutcase like Vasile Avramenko.

The Film Corner Rating: ***** 5-Stars

The Showman and the Ukrainian Cause is available from University of Manitoba Press. In Canada, order directly from this link HERE
. In the United States, order directly from this link HERE
. In the UK, order directly from this link HERE
. Any one of these links will suffice for anyone in the world to order by clicking on any of the aforementioned links. Doing so on these links, assists with the ongoing maintenance of The Film Corner.