After decades of being little more than an exotic location for overseas filmmakers and production companies, Australia was shocked in 1971 with the release of two films that would forever change all notions...
Luc Moullet is what the French call “un original”, an offbeat, quirky talent, who over a nearly fifty-year period has forged a unique filmography. Sally Shafto goes in search of what makes Moullet such an individualist.
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off may be widely acclaimed as one of the greatest teen movies ever made, but at its heart lies a key (and previously unexamined) conundrum: Why doesn’t Abe Froman arrive for lunch at Chez Quis?
Designed as a loosely chronological “scrapbook” marking the 25th anniversary of Luis Buñuel’s death in Mexico City, El Último guión: Buñuel en la memoria is a chat between Juan Luis Buñuel and Jean-Claude Carrière about the great director’s life and work. Linda C. Ehrlich finds it a fascinating and accurate portrait of a man of vision.
Leo McCarey may be revered for his string of film masterpieces (Duck Soup, The Awful Truth, Love Affair, Going My Way, et al), but he is equally reviled for his anti-Communist propaganda, My Son John. Gwendolyn Audrey Foster explores how the film shines a light on the cultural politics of the time.
Warwick Thornton’s Samson and Delilah has captured the world’s imagination in a way no Aboriginal film has done before. After a century of white filmmakers controlling (often by default) the cinematic presentation of Aboriginal culture, Therese Davis wonders whether Samson and Delilah marks the start of a new era.
Trauma has long played a key role in cinema. John Orr argues that “What is out there as waking nightmare in a dangerous world is often a mirror of what is hidden in here, in the human heart.” In Orr’s provocative analysis, the spectre of key British filmmaker Michael Powell inevitably emerges.
Kotcheff’s Wake in Fright may have run for more than a year in one Parisian cinema, but its blunt examination of lonely men in a harsh and alien landscape left many Australians of the time feeling perplexed. On the occasion of its sparkling re-release, Raffaele Caputo talks with Kotcheff, who eruditely and humorously throws new light on this Antipodean classic.
Like many of his collaborators, filmmaker Jackie Raynal was present at the Cinémathèque Française’s memorial homage to Rohmer earlier this year. Sparked by the occasion, she looks back at her time with Rohmer in this heartfelt reminiscence.
A landmark interview originally published in Cahiers du cinéma in 1970. The journal was in the midst of its Marxist/Leninist era, while Rohmer's Bazinian idealism was vindicated by the success of My Night at Maud’s. A fascinating joust between two entirely opposed views of the cinema
Rohmer was himself a private and reserved individual who, more often that not, shunned the spotlight. Bruce Perkins examines three documentaries on the filmmaker, and concludes that together they offer as vivid and multi-dimensional a portrait of Rohmer as we can wish for.
In both content and form, a strong pedagogical endeavour has informed the work of Rohmer throughout his career. Darragh O’Donoghue discusses this inclination, focusing on some of the earlier shorts and made-for-television documentaries.
The topographical tracings of Rohmer’s feature debut reveal a dual motif: the cartographic and the photographic. Roland-François Lack’s insightful essay meticulously traces the unfolding of this dual motif.
Love, morality, fidelity and chance crystallised around Pascal’s ‘wager’. Taken by many to be the key film of the ‘Six Moral Tales’ series, the fascination of this film has not receded with time. Constantine Santas unravels the film’s thematics.
In this brilliantly imaginative piece, Ken Mogg takes several literary texts and uses them to synoptically illuminate Hitchcock’s intentions behind The Birds. Don’t for a second believe that Daphne du Maurier’s short story is the only literary influence.
Cinema has long portrayed the lives of animals and their relationships with human beings. Seung-hoon Jeong examines André Bazin’s writings on such films as Crin blanc: le cheval sauvage and Umberto D to rethink the ontological and æsthetical concepts that define his cinematic vision.
A ten-feature box-set from the Slovak Film Institute has Peter Hourigan delightedly continuing his exploration of the cultural heritage of a national cinema that has been widely overlooked since the division of Czechoslovakia.