At NYC's FIAF this week, a lesser-known (and rightly so) Jean Renoir film, FRENCH CANCAN

Even great filmmakers can have off-days, one example being Jean Renoir, he of Grand Illusion and The Rules of the Game, who made a movie entitled FRENCH CANCAN back in 1955 that begins with the disclaimer that nothing we will see should be taken as having anything to do with real life, events or people.

Smart move, as much that we see and hear smacks of enormous, often overdrawn artifice.

Directed and written/adapted (from an idea by André-Paul Antoine) by Renoir (shown at left), the movie takes place in the 1890's as Henri Danglard, a producer of something you might, if you were particularly gracious, call "theater," attempts to open a new night club to be named, yes, the Moulin Rouge, which will make its mark by reintroducing a by-then-retro dance called the Cancan, now to be rechristened as the French Cancan.

Because Henri is played by that fabulous French star Jean Gabin, one of whose many gifts included the inability to overact or deliver a performance that was anything less than real, he is one of a very few of the cast members who manage this seemingly (here, at least) difficult feat.

Among M. Gabin's other gifts (the actor is shown above) was his unassuming grace and believability as a ladies' man, and here he plays it big-time, with a long-term mistress (the haughtily glamorous Maria Felix, below), plenty of past conquests, and a possible new one on the horizon -- an adorable little laundress whom he meets one evening at a local dance hall and who has quite a knack for movement and dancing.

That laundress is played by Françoise Arnoul (below) with charm and wit enough to match M. Gabin, and her character soon has suitors enough to vie with Gabin: She's engaged to the local baker, is chased after by a super-wealthy foreign aristocrat, and eventually falls for her hero and mentor, who now has her training to perform in his new club.

This rondelay of love matches and mis-matches comes to a proper and quite fittingly adult, philosophical and emotional conclusion that features a terrific speech by Gabin about theater, performing, producing, love, marriage, responsibility and all the rest. This alone makes the movie worth watching, but the final 20 minutes or so, devoted to the grand opening of the Moulin Rouge, the various musical numbers performed (one of these by Edith Piaf!), and of course the final one involving the cancan are the absolute knock-out we've been waiting for -- and to which the entire movie has been building. (It's rather like seeing those famous Radio City Music Hall Rockettes -- but with a lot more heart and soul.)

If this sounds some kind of "rave" notice, indeed it is, but it must also be accompanied by a major caveat. The first 40 minutes or so of this film is quite a slough to get through. While the candy-colored sets are often lovely, there is also an over-abundance of short scenes that exist simply to make a point and further the plot. This is clunky filmmaking. Many of the subsidiary roles are overacted and too obviously written, as well -- making use of a number of performers who were popular at the time but whose shtick, for that is what it is, does not hold up at all well today.

There is literally so much of this going on so often (as with the three "shticklers" above) that the movie soon seems unduly noisy and tiresome. My spouse gave up on it around that 40-minute point. TrustMovies persisted and is very glad he did because that shtick soon lessens even as the love relationships strengthen, character comes to the fore, and genuine performing takes over -- both in the acting and in the musical performances themselves.

That lengthy and super-engaging finale features Ms Felix (above) as Catherine the Great -- doing a strip-tease and a shimmy! -- and includes a simply lovely song (that I believe was also featured briefly in Baz Luhrman's crappy Moulin Rouge), and lots more. So do stick with French Cancan, and it'll probably win you over, too.

One other note: If you place yourself back in time of 1955, the film's release here in the USA must have knocked the uptight American audience for a loop in terms of its attitude toward love and sex, as when the heroine, expecting to have to turn herself over sexually to her new producer/mentor, instead willingly loses her virginity to her baker fiancé (above) so that she can have her first sexual experience with a man she actually cares for. The film's mature and thoughtful take on sexuality and its place in society is something that I'm afraid a rather too-large percentage of American audiences may still have to grow up and into. The attitudes belonging to fundamentalist religions continue to apply here in the USA -- and in far too much of our world.

French Cancan screens in French with English subtitles at FIAF in New York City this coming Tuesday, March 27, at 4 and 7:30pm, as part of FIAF's continuing CinéSalon series of classic of French cinema with Olivier Barrot. M. Barrot, noted journalist and TV personality, has curated the current series and will appear for a 30-minute talk at 6:45 that evening to share his insights into the social and cultural contexts of the film. His talk will be open to audiences of either the 4:30 or 7pm screening. For more information and/or tickets, simply click here.

Something different from India: the college-theater fantasia from Kranti Kanadé, CRD

Said to have set the critical establishment of India on its collective ear, CRD -- the new film all about college theater, competition, fascism (or so the publicity materials note), love, sexuality and family -- from writer/director Kranti Kanadé, does indeed look like no other Indian movie that TrustMovies has heretofore seen. We are also told that India's leading film critic, Namrata Joshi had this to say: “Kanadé breaks all the rules of filmmaking in creating CRD, which boldly goes where no Indian film has gone before.” The key words in both Joshi's and my assessment of CRD are these: "Indian film."

Plenty of other movies from all over the world have broken the rules in just about every way imaginable, and what Mr. Kanadé does here (the filmmaker is shown  at left), while entertaining and impressive as filmmaking, will not seem so unusual -- except, I think, to Indians themselves, or to film buffs who mostly know Indian film from the spectrum of Bollywood on one hand and the pure, pristine work of Satyajit Ray on the other.

India, it would seem, is rather late in coming to the "modern filmmaking" table. Think of CRD's effect on the sub-continent as something like what Bryan Singer's The Usual Suspects had on American critics and audiences. Kanadé does all sorts of tricks with time and place, editing, intercutting (there's even a short slice of Bollywood here), fantasy, reality, sexuality and sexual preference. (At one point our hero muses that he could be "the wife.")

The story is that of a group of college students who enter an annual content for Best New Play and then try to bring about the winning of that contest. We never get to see much of the actual play but instead work around and through it via getting to know something about the students involved (along with their very break-all-the-rules teacher). Love and lust and family and class (and caste) are all included, along with, I suspect, lots more -- the allusions, visual and verbal to which, only Indians or those who know that country's mores and culture very well, will pick up.

But even for someone like me, who does not know these things, the movie proved worth watching and was easy enough to enjoy and wonder at. While its hero, as well as that scary/sexy teacher (shown above), may sometimes strike you as too much like that smarty-pants kids in your drama class who always knew everything better than anyone else and never wanted to abide by any rule, still, these characters and the movie they inhabit consistently strike a chord of genuine exploration, caring and the will to change.

For me the movie's most moving moment comes near its close, when our hero can finally admit and accept what and who his mother actually was. There is plenty else here, too -- from humor and surprise to amazement and shock. And lots of enjoyment. The biggest problem I had with the film is that it switches back and forth over and over again from Hindi (and occasionally French) with English subtitles to English spoken with rather thick Indian accents without subtitles. I think it would have been wiser to have English subtitles throughout.

In any case, the big screen is the place to see CRD, and it opens today in the Los Angeles area at Laemmle's Town Center 5 and Monica Film Center. Elsewhere? I don't know. But watch for it -- if not at a theater near you then on DVD or digital. Eventually, I hope.

CLOUDS OF SILS MARIA: Olivier Assayas' great film about women, celebrity, aging, performance

One of the strengths of filmmaker Olivier Assayas (shown below) is how he manages to make his movies so often seem off-the-cuff, almost improvised, while at the same time bringing home their themes gently but fluently. His new movie CLOUDS OF SILS MARIA manages this particularly well, as did Summer Hours and Something in the Air.

Occasionally he'll come a cropper (remember Boarding Gate), when his themes never coalesce into believability, or with Clean, in which his command of the English language was not nearly up to the level it appears to have reached in his latest endeavor. He'll also surprise/shock us now and again with something memorably crazy like Demonlover, where themes (the evils of globalization) are hammered home rather bluntly but the movie is such bizarre, devilish fun that we don't care. In Clouds of Sils Maria, Assayas is working at or near his zenith, and the result is bravura.

This writer/director has long shown a special affinity for women, their needs and desires, along with how they "operate." I'd say he's done this better than most male directors. He also, as might be expected, understands quite a bit about international movie-making, celebrity and (as he just this year turned 60) aging.  His new film juggles all these themes with such wit, dexterity and expositional slight-of-hand that you can only sit back and marvel at his splendid dialog, lovely visuals and the wonderful performances he gets from his three women stars -- and everyone else in this terrific movie.

The three women here would seem to represent the ages of the late teens, 20s and 40s -- with Juliette Binoche (two photos above, who has worked with the writer and director several times before), as Maria, the oldest of the three (Ms Binoche just turned 50 last year); Kristen Stewart (above, and now 25 years old) as Valentine, Maria's smart, unusually truth-telling personal assistant; and Chloë Grace Moretz (below, who is currently at the end of her teen years) as a young actress named Jo-Ann, who has just risen to the realm of superstardom.

I give the actual age of these three performers not to be dishy but because the line between art and life in this film seems intentionally unclear, sometimes transparently so. In a scene or two in which Maria and Val have line rehearsals for a play in which Maria will star, you may initially imagine the pair are simply talking about their own lives, rather than reading dialog, so attuned to art mimicking life is M. Assayas.

That play is a sequel to an earlier play -- which became a hit film, thereby sending Maria's star into orbit some decades back -- involving a young girl and the older woman who becomes her mentor and lover. Having won initial acclaim playing the young girl, now the actress is set to perform the role of the older woman. That the younger woman will be played by the hugely successful Jo-Ann simply adds to the repressed trauma that our aging actress must face.

The men who inhabit, somewhat cursorily, these women's lives are written in brief, smart strokes and portrayed very well by a number of fine actors (including Lars Eidinger, above, right, as the play's hotshot director; Hanns Zischler as an old and much-loathed co-star; Johnny Flynn, below, left, as Jo-Ann's current wunderkind writer boyfriend; and Brady Corbet, who has a marvellous little penultimate scene with Binoche involving, yes, age and acting. The film's first "event," in fact, has to do with a man, the playwright in question, who gave Maria her start. Yet the guys are all satellites; it's the women who command and control the film.

They do this by questioning, arguing, insisting, relenting -- then rethinking the whole thing. It's a brilliant conception on Assayas' part, and the execution is sterling. Ms Binoche is so real (and often not so nice), alternately appealing and wise and then annoying and foolish. Her Maria is struggling, and she makes us a party to that struggle. Ms Moretz, one of our most interesting young actresses, is delightful here: as poised and gracious in person as her character is lewd and insulting during her forays with the media. (The movie's various prattle about "the industry" and how it works is generally hilarious.) Moretz represents youth in all its passion and eagerness, as well as its indiscretions and selfishness -- and she nails this state of mind and action beautifully.

Most surprising of all, however, is Ms Stewart, who has given a number of good performances in her career, but nothing that matches this one. She is so alert and on-point throughout, so "unglamorous" and real, full of surprise and spiked intelligence that she all but steals the movie. You can understand why the French were so floored that they gave her their Best Supporting Actress award -- the first time in history that an American has won a César.

What M. Assayas has done, finally, is to give us a look at performing in its many incarnations -- in theater, film, rehearsal, and life (that's right: we do indeed perform for friends, family and even strangers). Yet how thoughtful and egalitarian is this filmmaker, as he allows his characters to stop, start again, grow and finally change. One of the prize scenes comes near the end, as Maria and Jo-Ann face each other down regarding how to play a certain scene. The result is a kind of blessed few moments that allow the pivotal character (and us) to more deeply relate and understand.

Oh, yes-- what about those titular clouds? They are said to exist at early morning hours as air masses move around the mountain range of Sils Maria -- the gorgeous area of Switzerland in which much of the film takes place -- creating a kind of billowy "snake." The trek to see this phenomenon that Maria and Val make leads to one of the movie's several climaxes. It's a wonder, as is most of this amazing, mysterious movie.

From Sundance Selects/IFC Films and running a just-about-perfect 124 minutes, Clouds of Sils Maria opens this Friday, April 10, in New York City at IFC Center and the Lincoln Plaza Cinemas, with openings in the top national markets throughout April and early May 

Al Pacino's back in Barry Levinson's THE HUMBLING -- for better and for worse

What a frustrating experience is THE HUMBLING, the new film from director Barry Levinson, with a screenplay by Buck Henry from the novel of the same name by Philip Roth. Interesting, sometimes riveting -- but only in fits and starts -- the film also gives Al Pacino a juicy role which he alternately embraces and makes mincemeat of. He is not helped by Mr. Levinson, who at times seems to have deliberately decided to work in distance or long shots when what is so clearly called for is a close-up (though the director might have worried that his scenery-chewing star would once again decimate the drapes). Whatever: The Humbling might be better titled, The Fumbling.

The real problem, however, is most likely due to the source material itself. I haven't read Roth's novel, but the mostly negative criticism of it -- absurd, slight, disposable, ill conceived, and simply going-through-the-motions -- also reflects the state of this movie version. Over the years, Mr. Levinson (shown at left) has excelled in a variety of genres -- from drama to comedy to horror (see his very good and frightening film, The Bay, if you haven't already). Perhaps here, working with such a problematic tale, he has simply let it "wag" him, rather than the necessary reverse. Or it may be that a movie that jumps so many genres, as this one does, is simply not part of Levinson's metier.

But let's start with the good things, including Pacino, who, even when he's over-doing it, proves fun and often funny. Given his professed love of Shakespeare and the nice job he did with Shylock, one easily identifies with the character he plays here, Simon Axler, renowned stage actor who has recently had a bad few years.

Then there's Greta Gerwig (at right), who certainly comes into her own in the role of Pegeen, a needy, messed-up adult who, as a child, had been enamored of Simon and now comes back into his life as a possible -- if highly unlikely -- love interest. Ms Gerwig plays pretty much a femme fatale (or at least a femme maudite) here, but she manages to keep us, as she does Simon, off-balance, alternate-ly charmed and annoyed.

Somewhat wasted (due to her tiny role), Kyra Sedgwyck, above, still impresses with her strength and anger, while Diane Wiest and Dan Hedeya (below, right and left, respectively) provide some humor, as well as additional back-story.

Of the entire cast, it's probably Charles Grodin (below, left) who best nails his small role as Simon's agent, followed by Nina Arianda (at bottom, right), who has the most preposterous role of all, but manages to make it seem at least possible, if not probable. The movie might have worked better has Gerwig and Arianda switched roles: The former's easy goofiness might have better served the maybe-crazy/maybe-not wife, while the latter's drive and heavy-duty acting chops might have turned Pegeen into something approaching memorable.

As it is, the movie meanders from incident to incident, emotion to emotion, stopping for something real and then something ridiculous -- finally leaving all its characters, especially Simon, hanging out to dry. The Humbling has a lot in common with another recent movie about actors and acting: Birdman, which offers fine performances, fluid camerawork and simply no point -- no "there" there -- at all. (Both films, in fact, have a scene in which our heroic actor gets locked of his theater during a performance.)

From Millennium Entertainment (recently renamed Alchemy, which had better get -- and fast -- a decent web site up and running) and lasting a little too long at 112 minutes, The Humbling, which may humble some of those involved here, opens this coming Friday, January 23, in New York City at the AMC Empire 25 -- and elsewhere, too, though nothing has yet been posted as yet on the movie's site. Check back in a few days, and maybe someone will have updated the thing. Also, as I understand it from the web site, the film will be available simultaneously via VOD and digital streaming.

Streaming tip: Roman Polanski's film of David Ives' (via Sacher-Masoch) play VENUS IN FUR

Overlays aplenty figure in the filmed version of VENUS IN FUR, from the theatrical play by David Ives (itself based on the work of Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, though I'm not certain Leopold ever wrote anything quite this disarmingly funny). First, the film has been adapted, with the help of Mr. Ives, by that notorious director, lecher, ever-present prison-dodger, and quite a talent, Roman Polanski (shown below). Second, it stars his wife of long-standing, Emmanuelle Seigner opposite the French actor, Mathieu Amalric, who looks awfully like Polanski did in his earlier years. So on one level, watching this movie is like watching a director put his wife through some sexual paces with a man who clearly resembles his younger self. Wow. Or maybe ouch.

Not having seen the legitimate theater version (though literally everyone I know who saw either the Broadway or original off-Broadway mounting loved it), I can only say that seeing this relatively short, 95-minute movie was a lot of fun -- as much for those overlays mentioned above, as for the witty, game-playing script that Ives has delivered and the terrific performances from Seigner (below) and Amalric (further below). This is Polanski's second attempt in two years to bring to the screen a popular theater piece, and it is a pleasure to report that he succeeds here every bit as completely as he failed with his earlier transfer, Carnage (based on Yazmina Reza's play, The God of Carnage).

I also must take back my earlier comment that the director should be let nowhere near comedy, as Polanski proves himself quite adept at the light touch required to bring Ives work's to the right life. Venus in Fur is nothing if not a lot of fun.

Whoever was in charge of set and location has come up with a simply ravishing little dilapidated theatre in which to film (below). Every nook and cranny seem to be filled with history, lechery, fun and frolic -- not to mention probably every great classic ever staged. You can practically smell the dank but pleasurable aroma of the place as you watch.

The story is that of what looks like a slightly over-the-hill and down-on-her-luck actress (Seigner), arriving terribly late for an audition with the play's writer and maybe director (Amalric). The latter doesn't want to even give the former a chance, and so she begs, lies, and cajoles him into at least a few moment of stage time.

Initially Vanda (the actress appears to have the same name as the character for which she is auditioning) seems a not-too-smart cookie with a lot of sex appeal. Soon, however, we're sure that she's the smartest person in the room, if not in the whole of Paris.

Watching Seigner and Amalric parry and feint, gain and then lose the upper hand is wonderful fun. The two play together like the by-now old pros that they are: French acting royalty of a newer sort than, say, Michèle Morgan and Jean Gabin.

If things begin to run down just a tad in the film's final half hour, I don't think you'll grouse much. Performances, direction and writing are of such a high order and so perfectly conjoined that this is one of those rare movies in which you suspect that the actors and crew had as much fun as will the audience who's about to watch.

Venus in Fur -- released here in the USA via Sundance Selects and running 95 minutes -- can be seen now via Netflix streaming and elsewhere digitally. It's also available on DVD.

Life imitates art, quite beautifully, in Philippe Le Guay's enchanting BICYCLING WITH MOLIÈRE

French filmmaker Philippe Le Guay has had quite an interesting career, working successfully in various genres -- from his most recent hit, the nostalgic and socially-conscious rom-com The Women on the 6th Floor to his earlier and very dark movie about work and family, Nightshift (Trois Huit) and a very interesting and barbed look at how the French bourgeoisie lived back in 2003, The Cost of Living. All told, he's directed eleven films (theatrical and television) and written twenty-two. Now comes one of his best: BICYCLING WITH MOLIÈRE, the charming, classy tale of a classic piece of French literature attempting to be brought to exhilarating life by a pair of France's finest actors (Fabrice Luchini and Lambert Wilson) -- who happen to be portraying a pair of France's finest actors.

M. Le Guay, shown at left, came up with the idea for this film along with M. Luchini (the two have collaborated several times), who is said to be an expert on the great playwright, Jean-Baptiste Poquelin, better known by his stage name, Molière. Despite his great gift for comedy and farce, M. Luchini would seem to possess an intelligence both wide-ranging and deep, all of which is put to use by the actor and M. Le Guay in this new film. In it, Luchini plays Serge Tanneur (below, left), a well-respected actor who has given up his profession due to its pettiness and nastiness of the people who surrounded him. Into his now quiet life comes M. Wilson, as Gauthier Valence (below, right), another successful actor who currently is the hot TV star in what sounds and looks like a soapy series about a cosmetic surgeons who always seems to be saving lives. Gautheir wants to get back to his theatrical roots and so is set on having Serge join him in a new production of Molière's The Misanthrope.

But who will play Alceste, the meaty title role of the play? Gauthier wants it for himself, but Serge says no.  If he is to return to the stage, he must play Alceste. Well, maybe the two actors could switch roles periodically, giving both the chance to shine? Serge insists on a few days of rehearsal before giving his answer, and so the two begin to rehearse, as well as spend a lot of time together in the little seaside town where Serge dwells.

There they meet Francesca (Maya Sansa, above), an Italian divorcee who is initially angry at them and the world around her but then quickly (a tad too quickly, perhaps) warms up to our two chums.

The meat of the movie charts this growing relationship between the men, and theirs with both the play at hand and with this new woman, and it gives us a raft of small moments of jealousy and envy, as well as others that bring to the fore the actor's skill with this playwright and the playwright's great skill with words. Molière lovers will kvell. (Yours truly once played Philinte in a college production of this play, and even though I was far too young and green to appreciate even half of its genius, this opened the door to my enduring love for the playwright.)

Midway, there's a fine scene in which a young actress, keen to continue making porno films, takes a mother-induced meeting with our classic actors and reads a speech from the play. What begins as cringe-inducing, slowly turns into something lovely, as the character (and actress: newcomer Laurie Bordesoules, below) warms to the words.

The movie should also give lovers of The Misanthrope a field day, for it finds within the characters of the two men, and the woman, plenty of similar characteristics to those of Alceste, Philinte and Célimène and the rest of the play's cast of characters. In fact, there is one brilliant scene near the finale in which Serge looks over the entire galaxy of people involved in the upcoming production and sees... well, you'll see. This is a splendid few moments brought to fine life by Le Guay, Luchni and the rest of the cast.

If you know Luchini's work -- from Claire's Knee onward, you'll know that there is damn little he can't do. His work here is sterling; the man just gets better and better with age. M. Wilson, below, looks fabulously sexy (as he so often does) but here this is cleverly combined with that ever-so-slightly self-satisfied "star" quality that successful actors sometimes radiate.

Ms Sansa, below, about to be seen here in the USA in a terrific role in Bellocchio's Dormant Beauty, makes a lovely foil for our guys. Though it is pretty clear that the whole story was designed to explore actors, acting and Molière, the three leads do yeoman work at turning their "characters" into as close to full-blooded people as possible.

Le Guay might have spared us two falls off bikes and into the canal (though it probably seemed important that this happen to both Gauthier and Serge). Overall, though, the movie is one near-constant joy to see and hear, as it gives one of the world' great playwrights and his work yet another choice moment in the sun.

From Strand Releasing and running 104 minutes, Bicycling with Molière, gets its U.S. theatrical premiere this Wednesday, April 23, in New York City at Film Forum. In Los Angeles, look for the film at Laemmle's Royal and Playhouse 7 on May 2, and at Laemmle's Town Center on May 9. Elsewhere? Let's hope. Otherwise, watch for it eventually on DVD and maybe Netflix streaming.