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daniel_quiles
Reviews
The Last Movie (1971)
Recently PREMIERED in New York! In 2006!
Having wanted to see this film for years, I finally got the chance last night at Anthology Film Archives in New York. And, as ludicrous as it is to "rate" a film like this, I give it a 5, as the film sits awkwardly between its lofty ambitions and appalling inability to live up to them.
Famously buried by Universal when Hopper refused to cut it into anything resembling a coherent narrative, -The Last Movie- is now probably more fun to watch as a document of the loony 60s/70s generation than as what it was intended to be, a Hollywood comrade of Godard, Herzog, or Jodorowsky. Tantalizingly visible for stretches (particularly the opening 30 minutes) in the final cut along with a more conventional narrative is a great avant-garde film about imperialism, Hollywood and the genre of the Western-- and with the use of local Indian populations, this places Hopper in -Herzog's- territory more than anyone else-- but what lamentably predominates far more often is ample filmic evidence of the intoxication and womanizing that render Hopper and his cronies as mainstream Hollywood as they come.
Almost unbearable are the absurdly monotonous stretches of glorious scenery set to insipid 60 faux-country ballads, and most especially the sequences of misogyny, which "American Dreamer" confirms as no accident. Hopper was transparently a monster in this regard.
What got me was the Godardian dimension of what was on screen, in the sense of all film being documentary. What the hell was going on during the filming of these different scenes? One actor is so drunk he can barely talk. The next is so coked up that it's like he's in a different film. Indians hold objects up to hide their faces from the camera-- a direction from Hopper, or their refusal to play along? The discombobulated editing, part-intelligent critique, part-drug-addled meltdown, only enhances the curiosity provoked by these odd glimpses into this bizarre, lost moment of studio-sponsored third-world hedonism-- which for me makes -The Last Movie- important, if not always pleasurable, viewing.
Missing (1982)
An essential film to see in today's world
In a world where our biggest fear has become random, stealthy terrorism, it is easy to forget that for much of the twentieth century our fear has not been nearly enough directed at states, governments- sometimes our own. From Stalin, Mussolini and Hitler through to fascism's pervasion of the 3rd world in monsters such as Pinochet, we have always had the most to fear from merciless, gigantic totalitarian regimes, far too many of which have been backed by the United States.
What "Missing" cannot say, though it says a lot, is that the country it portrays is Chile in the first days of the unelected reign of Pinochet. What it does say, much of which has been corroborated by recently unclassified documents, is that the United States, led by the statesmanship of Henry Kissinger, supported Pinochet's coup and toppling of a DEMOCRATICALLY ELECTED REGIME because they were not friendly enough to "American interests." The bottom line, as the movie makes inarguably clear, is that a South American Hitler was propped up into power largely thanks to the United States; the blood of thousands of Chileans is thus partially on our hands. This is the larger political point of the film. Until our government owns up to this, one of the most abominable and least-discussed crimes of the Nixon administration, the film "Missing," despite being a fictional take on true events, will be an enormously important document. This is art so close to politics that there's almost no art there. But it still must be seen; the message is too important. All Americans need to confront this episode in our past and come to terms with the fact that our government is a democracy only up to a point. Beyond that point, there are decisions made that we have no control over, no knowledge of, but nonetheless result in horrific events.
Costas-Gravas sketches a Santiago beyond all nightmares, so hellish that it simply had to be true. With almost constant gunfire and monstrosities going on in plain view, we watch Americans suffer enormously under the strain and stress. The film is an exercise in impotence, de-humanization. Jack Lemmon, in one of his most courageous performances, has the humility to offer an utterly normal American man's reaction to all this. First he trusts his government, and then, as he realizes that they are at fault for his son's death, he simply implodes. He makes threats but we are instantly told they will achieve nothing. He is even reprimanded by the American officials responsible, his son should have not been a "snoop": "you play with fire, you get burned." He crumples, worn down by a world more brutal than imaginable. It is the price we pay, the film seems to say, for living in a safe, wealthy country like America: this blood on our hands that we don't ever think about. And then, if we are forced to confront it, our own ignorance leaves us too weak to deal with it.
Lemmon's character's impotence is matched by that of his son's, in his arrest and death. This is one of the bleakest films I have ever seen on the subject of individuality in the face of the state. Chile is here meant to stand both for the 3rd world and America- both at once, complicit in this mini-Holocaust. His son is a decent guy, totally harmless, attempting to "be connected to the whole enchilada," as his wife puts it, but certainly no revolutionary. But what does this life, this human being who has lived with integrity, matter when bulldozed by the sweep of a machine-like government? Indeed, the US officials who pretend to help Lemmon are truly cogs; emotionless, deadpan, their portrayal is surely propagandistic- the politicos of our worst fears. But the film's resonance is more the possibility that this was true; it seems likely, given what is now known of Nixon's administration. What other sort of people could have knowingly perpetrated such monstrosities besides Eichmanns, empty of soul or conscience, pure puppets?
As I said, there is ultimately little art in this film. It is certainly not about the triumph of the human spirit, as the battle is already lost before Lemmon gets to Chile. No, it is more about the total negation of the human spirit, and body, for that matter, in the face of the indomitable state. Problematic as it may be, this art document leaves a strictly political aftertaste, because it so convincingly asks the question: why, as a country, have we not come to terms with the fact that our government is responsible for events like this, time and time again?