Blu-ray/DVD debut for the Jean Cocteau classic, LES PARENTS TERRIBLES

First released in 1948, LES PARENTS TERRIBLES (aka The Storm Within) celebrates its 70th anniversary this year. This is -- here in the USA, at least -- a lesser-known film by French icon Jean Cocteau, and the reasons for this will become readily apparent upon viewing.

In the course of his 74-year life, Cocteau achieved great success as a poet, writer, designer, playwright, fine artist and filmmaker (Beauty and the Beast, Orpheus and Blood of a Poet among others), and Les Parents Terribles was adapted by Cocteau from his own very successful play of the same name. But instead of "opening out" the tale in its transition to film (as so many plays-become-movies insist upon doing), the author kept its theatrical roots stage-bound and ever apparent.

In fact, Cocteau, shown at left, makes witty good fun of his film's theatricality in a manner that is both sophisticated and charming. His dialog and mise en scène may bring to mind both Sacha Guitry and Oscar Wilde.

The plot involves a French bourgeois family in which narcissism, hypocrisy, sacrifice and basic human need gone awry keep coming into amusing conflict, as the family's overgrown child/man son begins to spread his wings, causing his mom, dad and aunt to have to re-jigger their own.

In the pivotal role of that son, appears Cocteau's favorite actor and long-time lover, Jean Marais (above), very probably France's most beautiful male actor until Alain Delon hit the screen. M. Marais was a well-seasoned 35 at the time of the shooting, so playing a naive 22-year-old is a bit of a stretch. It shows. (The actor overdoes the naivete and youthful enthusiasm.) Yet Marais is so gorgeous of face and body that many viewers won't mind in the least.

His new love is played by a popular actress of the time, Josette Day (above), and she is indeed lovely. But the performers who really grease the wheels here are that older generation: mother (played by Yvonne de Bray, below, right),

father (Marcel André, below, left), and especially Aunt Léo, given a lip-smackingly great performance by Gabrielle Dorziat, shown below, center. It is Léo, finally, who becomes the real pivotal character here, as well as the one we root for most, as it is she who has given up the most.

Most interesting of all may be how little Cocteau uses his usual and plenteous bag of film tricks. Instead he simply gives us a plethora of smart dialog, offered up by his trio of veteran performers. It is more than enough.

An oddball cross between a boulevard comedy and a knife to the heart of conventional morality (even -- nay, especially -- that of the sophisticated French variety), Les Parents Terribles deserves its "classic" status, though it may take some time and effort for the film to again reach those heights, audience-wise.

Among the new Blu-ray/DVD's bonus features is a lovely five-minute introduction by Columbia University professor and ex-FSLC stalwart, Richard Peña, plus a nice interview with assistant director Claude Pinoteau, a few "camera tests," and the film's trailers -- the original and that of the recent theatrical re-release.

From the Cohen Film Collection, the new Blu-ray and DVD of Les Parents Terribles hit the street this coming Tuesday, October 30 -- for purchase and (I hope) rental. The film will also simultaneously be available for digital streaming.

Iran confidential! Ali Soozandeh's animated TEHRAN TABOO serves up his birth country's hypocrisy on a rotoscope platter

Whew -- better prepare yourself for things you will not have seen in any Asghar Farhadi film.

The new TEHRAN TABOO, combining gorgeously colored rotoscope animation with the sleaziest of subject matter, begins with a woman giving a cab driver a blow-job while her young son chews gum in the back seat. When the cab driver, mid-b/j, suddenly sees his daughter holding hands with her boyfriend as the young couple walks down the street, he throws a fit. And mom stops sucking just long enough to tell him what a hypocritical asshole he is. Yes, this certainly leaves Disney in the dust -- along with even Ralph Bakshi.

From oral-sex-while-driving, we proceed to the likes of a black-market operation to restore a woman's virginity, a judge of the Islamic Revolutionary Court who sets up that prostitute and her son in a very nice apartment, a loan officer in a bank who makes shady deals, a kind of Dubai sex trade offering Iranian virgins, abortions, whoring and lots more (or less, depending on your viewpoint).

The director and writer here, making his U.S. theatrical debut with this film, is Ali Soozandeh, shown at right, and -- if he lives through the death threats sure to arise in Arab countries because of the content of his film -- I would think that we'll be hearing from him again very soon.

It will come as little surprise that Mr. Soozandeh has been living in exile in Germany since he was 25 (he turns 48 this year), and though it has taken him awhile to give us this unusual film, TrustMovies would say it has been worth the wait. Although it may seen initially that the filmmaker is "piling it on a bit thick," it soon becomes clear that it is the stupid, nasty and beyond-the-pale hypocrisy of the Islamic state and its irredeemable patriarchy, especially where matters sexual are concerned, that Soozandeh has pilloried so very well.

All these events going on are connected through the handful of characters we meet and grow to understand if not love -- from the mute son of that prostitute (above, center) and the rather sweet young man (below, left) who (on ectasy) has taken the virginity of a girl he's only just met...

...to that bank officer and his wife, mother and diabetic dad, all of whom begin acting as baby-sitters to the young boy (his mom has told them she works night at a local hospital) and even the sleazy judge himself (below, left), who handle divorces in his own inimitable manner.

As complicated, awful and perverse as life gets for these people, instead of blaming the individual, you will probably come to feel the strongest revulsion for the social/cultural/political set-up that has spawned the lives they lead.

As connections are made and the plot keeps unfurling into greater and more terrible circumstances,  most of what we've come to think we know and believe about these people is called into question. And if the black cat and its litter of kitten may initially strike you are a little too sentimental, wait a bit. Everything comes homes to roost here.

Watching this film and then thinking back to the more veiled and subtle work of that fine filmmaker Farhadi, you can better understand why so much of what he gives us must be tamped down to pass the censors. For something more "unvarnished," take a look at Tehran Taboo and be grateful that, for now at least (until the election cycle, perhaps), we here in the USA must only put up with those idiotic and venal Republicans and their unstable moron of a leader, Donald Trump.

From Kino Lorber, in Persian with English subtitles, and running 96 minutes, this unusual piece of animation has its U.S. theatrical premiere this coming Wednesday, February 14 (yes, it's a Valentine's Day delight), at New York City 's Film Forum before hitting another dozen or more cities around the country. To see all currently scheduled playdates and venues, click here and then scroll down.

THE SQUARE: Ruben Östlund's Cannes winner boldly explores the western world's hypocrisy

OK. Ruben Östlund may indeed be something of a smartypants (as certain reviewers would have you believe), but the "smart" part of that word Mr. Östlund possesses in spades. If Force Majeure and now THE SQUARE are any indication, this fellow is a bold, inventive and creative filmmaker who knows what he wants to say and how to deliver it in an entertaining, surprising, thought-provoking fashion. Anyone who can keep me (not to mention my often less-than-easy-moviegoing spouse) glued to the screen for two-and-one-half hours, as he does with this latest endeavor, and make it feel like maybe only as long as a 90-minute movie, has my vote.

To my mind, what Östlund, shown at right, is doing here is nothing less than indicting today's western society for all its many and major sins. He tackles everything from the art world and its big-money benefactors to family values, PR/marketing, feminism, free speech, the masculine ego, political correctness and more. And nobody gets off the hook: not the wealthy, the poor or those in between. That he does all this while situating his film in Sweden -- one of several Scandinavian countries long known for their progressive, forward-looking, pro-people values -- makes the indictment all the more powerful. And maybe more difficult to accept. Setting the film in the USA would have been too easy, particularly these days. But handing it to us from one of the countries many of us so admire is really rubbing-it-the-fuck-in.

The filmmaker's main character (played by the suddenly memorable Danish actor Claes Bang, above) is named, and probably not coincidentally, Christian, and he's the head of a popular and prestigious art museum where he is planning a new and important show. Divorced but also a reasonably caring father of two girls, he is first shown to us waking up from a nap and having to do yet another interview with a journalist. Then later, on his way to work, when someone (a woman, it sounds like) screams for help but no one immediately comes to her aid, Christian and one other fellow do. From there, surprise topples upon surprise and we are soon utterly hooked.

The Sweden we see here -- from the art museum to the marketing firm who handles its needs, to the poor who beg, and the folk who (mostly) don't pay attention to them -- is expectedly, maybe wonderfully diverse. Pets and children are welcomed in a workplace where women have risen to (or very near) the top. Much of the society we see here is just as we might want it -- but so seldom get it.

And yet, humanity's penchant for hypocrisy keeps spurting out like the cum that fills Christian's condom (post-sex with that journalist, played by the marvelously reliable and increasingly versatile Elizabeth Moss, above), the laying-to-rest of which becomes one of the film's funniest and most provocative set pieces.

The museum's dinner for its benefactors, together with the entertainment provided (above), is another of these. But perhaps the most special and incisive continuing thread throughout the movie pertains to stolen property, all that goes into its retrieval, and the unintended consequences that follow.

How Östlund threads it all together, while making us laugh and wince and drop our jaw is simply a marvel. And to those who call the film, as did The New York Times' A.O. Scott, "complacent, craven and clueless," I can only wonder if they are demanding something sweeter and more humane. Not here, buddy. Human, yes, you'll get plenty of that. And if you do not find some, maybe much, of your own behavior mirrored here (if you are man or woman enough to admit it, that is), I shall be very surprised.

From Magnolia Pictures and running an amazingly swift 152 minutes, The Square opened in the cultural centers a week or so back and hits South Florida this Friday, November 10, in the Miami area at both the Tower Theater and the Miami Beach Cinematheque, as well as elsewhere around the country. Wherever you live, click here to find the theater(s) nearest you.

Sacha Guitry's LA POISON gets The Criterion Collection treatment on Blu-ray & DVD

Sacha Guitry. Hmmm... Of course, you've heard the name of this Russian-born, French playwright/filmmaker/actor. But his actual work...? Not so easily or quickly identified. As much as TrustMovies prides himself on knowing and appreciating French film, he is embarrassed to say that, until viewing LA POISON -- the 1951 film to be released on Blu-ray and DVD this coming week via The Criterion Collection -- he had never actually seen a Guitry movie. All that has now changed, as I plan to lap up each and every film by this fellow that I can find.

La Poison proves an original surprise from its opening credits onward. In those credits, which suddenly move from the usual written-words-on-screen to an in-person appreciation, as M. Guitry -- shown above, center, with two of his actors from the film -- takes the time and trouble to thank each of his actors, as well as his cinematographer, editor, set designer, music composer and every last person who collaborated on the film for their efforts. (He even makes a quick phone call to thank a woman we never see but whose voice we hear in the film.) Guitry also manages to get in a delightful bit of praise for, as well as a dig at, La Comédie-Française, regarding those two actors (Jean Debucourt, left, and Jacques Varennes, who flank him, above.

Because, La Poison is the first and only piece of Guitry I've seen, I must base my ideas and opinion solely on it. From this, I'd say the man had a great gift for witty dialog, smart and subtle satire, and a marvelous appreciation of human hypocrisy combined with a gift for unveiling that hypocrisy in all its varied splendor. His theme here is marriage gone about as sour as marriage can go, which had led to its participants' plans to do away with each other. Hers (Germaine Reuver, above), the poison of the title, is the more standard approach, while his (that great and unique French actor Michel Simon, at left, below) turns out to be something quite different that blossoms and evolves in amazing ways as the plot unfurls.

Guitry's film begins slowly and sweetly, with a look a "typical" French provincial town that turns out to be both typical and not so. The town's priest (Albert Duvaleix, above, right), as in the work of Marcel Pagnol, dispenses as much logic and solid, worthwhile advice, as he does religion, while the town gossip, (Pauline Carton, below), rather than being some mean-spirited bitch, turns out to be pretty smart, as she and the town pharmacist go over the various ailments that plague the citizens, and she compares here own notes regarding a person's character with the prescription given him (or her). This is a scene -- cleverly mixing humor, intelligence and moral ambiguity -- that you will not have encountered.

Once the "murder" plot is set in motion, the pace picks up mightily, as do the film's humor, satire and surprise. How Guitry works out his particular and peculiar "morality" is as smart, shocking and delightful as anything you'll have seen. Tt will have you alternately laughing and gasping, and always alert so as not to miss a single, clever, engaging bit of word play or moral hypothesis.

Performances are all you could want (Guitry clearly knew his actors and what they could accomplish like the back of his hand), and his keen appreciation of what human beings -- including, yes, children -- so often understand and can reveal seem to me pretty extraordinary. (That's Jeanne Fusier-Gir, above center, as the town florist.)

Criterion's new Blu-ray is spectacular indeed. The transfer could hardly look better, competing I should think, with the film's quality at the time of its theatrical release. Supplements include a lovely appreciation of Guitry, his work, and particularly this film, by no less than Olivier Assayas, while the supplementary 24-page booklet includes a fascinating essay by Ginette Vincendeau that details the movies strengths, as well as its misogyny, along with details of Guitry's life and WWII activities. It's a must-read (but see the film first), as is the wonderful obituary on Guitry included here, which was written by François Truffaut.

Arriving on both Blu-ray and DVD from The Criterion Collection this coming Tuesday, August 22, La Poison, in French with English subtitles and running just 85 minutes, will be available for both purchase and rental.

Petar Valchanov & Kristina Grozeva are back--with another dark & winning com-dram, GLORY

Remember The Lesson, that black, bleak Bulgarian film that opened just over two years ago? Memorable and more, that movie prodded me to conclude that we would be seeing more from its fine filmmakers, Kristina Grozeva and Petar Valchanov, and sure enough, here they are again, with an even better film, GLORY. The movie begins with the setting of the time on a wrist watch, and the watch ends the film, too, while becoming what is clearly the most important inanimate object in this very lively movie.

The two filmmakers, shown at left, with Mr. Valchanov on the right, have only grown in the two-year interim, now handing us a tale that once again shows their home country to be a place of enormous, endemic corruption, hypocrisy and ugliness, probably not at all far -- simply smaller -- from what the USA, under our current regime, will soon become. Our "hero," Tzanko, played with remarkable skill and a genuineness that scorches by Stefan Denolyubov (below) is a quiet, surprisingly honest -- given the state of Bulgaria -- railroad worker with a speech impediment. As with many movie characters who carry such a burden, this fellow, too, is sad, moving and sometimes difficult to watch as he struggles mightily to make himself understood.

When Tzanko, one day during his rounds checking and tightening the railroad tracks, comes upon a open and spilling-out sackful of money, he turns it in to the police. Due to a just-breaking scandal and a nosy TV reporter, the Transport Minister and his PR staff immediately set about making Tzanko into the public "hero" he would rather not be, and in the process starting a set of actions/reactions that become hugely destructive.

If this sounds like the basis of a great black comedy, it is. But calling this film Capra-esque, as some have done, seems to me a misnomer. Frank Capra would utterly blanch at the horrific outcome here, deserved as it might be. Capra had a great sense of irony and an appreciation of the bleak and black, but this is, well, something else. 

Fortunately the two filmmakers have rounded up another great cast, led by two of the actors who also appeared in The Lesson: Mr. Denolyubov and the leading lady, Margita Gosheva (above), who, once again does an incredible job of placing us in the mind, body and emotions of a "public servant" so wrapped up in her own needs and desires that she, like the boss above her and the underlings below her, have lost way too much of their humanity.

And yet we do identify with this woman, Julia, who, with her significant other, is trying to conceive a child and just wants, don't we all?, to live the good life. To this end, what she does, blithely and finally shockingly, paves the way to endless grief for our hero -- his poor pet rabbits are but the tip of the iceberg -- and finally to something she so completely deserves for which she will never understand the reason behind, so wrapped up in herself and her world is this poor woman.

Once again, the no-longer-Communist countries of Eastern Europe -- from Poland, Romania and Bulgaria all the way to Russia itself -- are held up to the greatest ridicule by their own filmmakers. No doubt deservedly, too, with this ironically titled movie taking its place as one of the best yet.

Another auspicious debut from Film Movement, Glory gets its U.S. theatrical premiere this coming Wednesday, April 12, at Film Forum in New York City, and will open here in South Florida at the Tower Theater, Miami, on May 15. To view all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters, simply click here and scroll down.

Luis Buñuel on Blu-ray with one of his best -- THE EXTERMINATING ANGEL

An artist at work and very near (hell, maybe at) the top of his form can be seen in THE EXTERMINATING ANGEL, the 1962 Mexican movie from that world-class filmmaker, Luis Buñuel.  While I run hot to luke-warm on this fellow's overall oeuvre, this particular film is one of my favorites -- which I have seen maybe only once since I first viewed it on its New York debut at the New York Film Festival, back, I believe, in 1963. At that time, the movie provoked the usual reactions from the cultured crowd -- What's going on here? Why is it happening? Is this a metaphor, and if so, for what? --  dividing audiences, of course, but also grabbing them for the film's duration.

That the movie is also all about "the cultured crowd," Mexican version, is no accident. In it, Señor Buñuel (shown at left) tweaks his usual suspects: Class, Religion, and bourgeois hypocrisy. But how he does this is what counts. Why, together with what this means, is left a mystery, but with clues scattered generously about so that we can each draw our own conclusion, while feeling reasonably sure that, of course, this is what Buñuel must have meant. If only Luis were ever that easily "pinned down."

Back in 1963, audiences were only just beginning to tackle movies that had to be deciphered, and we weren't nearly as adept at it as we -- well, some of us -- are now. Seeing The Exterminating Angel again today may also make you realize that deciphering is not all that mandatory. We don't need to know everything. In fact, here, it is best to sit back, relax and go with the flow.

The tale told is of a dinner party among the very wealthy and class-conscious. We see preparations for the party taking place, as certain members of "the help" take their leave of the mansion before that party even begins. Class is already raising its nasty little head.

The guests arrive, are seated and witness a shocking accident that oddly provokes laughter. They eat, they chat, they listen as one of their own plays the piano, and then... they don't leave. They stay and stay and stay. A performing bear and some sheep make appearances (Communism and Religion? Nah: that's too easy). And our pampered guests go slowly from bad to worse.

Just as they are unable to leave the room in which they find themselves trapped (is this some kind of mass agoraphobia?), neither can the outside world find the will or the way to enter this now captive mansion. In other hands we'd have something "magical" and/or otherworldly. Buñuel smartly makes it seems so ordinary and oddly almost normal that we buy it, even as we keep questioning 'why.'

Performances from every last actor are on the nose. This moviemaker had a knack for casting and making sure his cast delivered. Best known among them is probably the lovely Silvia Pinal (above, center), whose character may be more (or less) than we perceive. (There a great interview with Ms Pinal today -- or fairly recently, at least -- in which she talks about Buñuel and his movie-making methods. It's a delight to see, hear and consider.)

Available now on Blu-ray and DVD from The Criterion Collection, the movie -- in Spanish with English subtitles -- runs only 95 minutes. But those minutes are fully packed with amazement and surprise. And as usual with Criterion, the movie arrives with a very nice array of supplementary "bonus" materials.

The photos above are from the film, 

with the exception of Buñuel's 

which is by Jack Manning, 

and comes courtesy of Getty Images.