Curiously enough, THE BATTLE OF THE RIVER PLATE/PURSUIT OF THE GRAF SPEE and ILL MET BY MOONLIGHT/NIGHT AMBUSH were among the first Powell & Pressburger films I saw when I got into them purely because they showed up on cable. (This would have been pre-TCM, so AMC, I guess.) Not terrible, but far from outstanding. I found more to appreciate about OH… ROSALINDA!! when I finally caught up with it.
I really like Battle Of The River Plate. It’s not a masterpiece, but it’s a first-rate war thriller, with a nice eye for detail. Kinda like Bridge Of Spies The Departed—not the best thing they’ve ever done, but excellent for what it is.
I saw this (on glorious 35mm!) at a revival theater back in the 80s. I'd never seen it, and tried to avoid knowing much about it going in. I was enchanted from the first frame, but when we got to the "Miss Page will not be dancing tonight" scene, I completely lost it. The writing is superb and the spotlight dance is heartbreaking, but it's really Anton Walbrook's performance that sells it. His performances in this and Colonel Blimp can't possibly be praised enough
Word. In having this conversation with Keith, I found myself thinking (and writing) so much more about Lermontov than Victoria or Julian because his motives and emotions are deeper and more compelling, and that announcement from stage really hits harder because of it. Were he merely a cold taskmaster, it wouldn't play.
I caught a screening of this (in 35mm as well) on campus about a decade back. It fell during the same weekend as a horror convention I wanted to attend because Stuart Gordon was going to be there, so I drove out Friday night, did the convention (including a midnight screening), and got up early enough the next day to make it back to town in time for THE RED SHOES. I have no regrets.
I've been looking forward to this one for a while as THE RED SHOES has long been one of my blind spots and this seemed like a perfect opportunity to watch it. Great film and great discussion. I found myself saying "Holy shit, movies can look like THIS?!" about a dozen times during the runtime (which I seem to remember happening with BLACK NARCISSUS as well.)
Let's talk about that ballet performance centerpiece. It put me immediately in mind of some of the big showstoppers of the MGM musicals like SINGIN' IN THE RAIN's "Broadway Rhythm" sequence, where the filmmakers aren't afraid to depart reality and do something purely cinematic. Which is why I found it fascinating that some critics didn't respond to that at ALL. Richard Winnington wrote at the time that as soon as that sequence starts you are in "the realms of Disney and the Hollywood dream sequence" (not in a good way.) And the great Danny Peary, writing decades later, opined that "the ballet shouldn't be stylized at all" and makes the return to reality "miserable" for the rest of the movie. Hogwash! Give me more fantastical musical interludes!
(Also in a sign of how the reputation of The Archers has grown in the past couple decades especially, Peary's 1986 Guide for the Film Fanatic and Pauline Kael's 1991 edition of 5001 Nights at the Movies include only 3 or 4 Powell/Pressburger movies and Kael limits her analysis of them to "master purveyors of high kitsch.")
This is one of those movies that snuck into my top five without me even realizing it was happening--I just kept watching it, and sharing it with people, and thinking, "Man, I would love to watch that again," and bam.
I watched this first over 20 years ago back in college, and was blown away, even on my old tube TV (though it was a pretty nice tube TV). I rewatched it last May on my OLED and the ballet is still stunning, though I was less enamored of the film around it. The ending really landed with a thud for me this time, except for Anton Walbrook's performance when he's informing the audience. Not just her fate, but the whole dilemma is silly, both because there's no reason she can't be married and perform, and because there's never any sense of what Lermontov actually contributes creatively, both at all and compared to other ballet owners. So for me overall it's below Colonel Blimp, A Matter Of Life And Death, and I Know Where I'm Going.
When it ended, my girlfriend pointed out that the 2000 ballet movie CENTER STAGE has an ending that could almost be seen as a modern-day response to how THE RED SHOES concludes. In that movie the heroine in the end exercises her agency to both continue working with the artistic genius who will propel her to greater stardom AND maintain her romantic relationship with the other talented artist. And both of the men accept this!
Now, does the movie contain a 15-minute ballet interlude that is one of the most striking scenes ever filmed? Maybe not, but does THE RED SHOES have a scene where the bad boy lead dancer rides onto stage on a motorcycle to Michael Jackson's "The Way You Make Me Feel?" Checkmate.
You've inspired me to watch The Red Shoes again, which I will do very soon. It will take longer, though, to wrap my head around that story of the Cannes audience at Blue Is the Warmest Color....
FWIW Schoonmaker does not prefer you to watch these restored versions on 35mm, even though the BFI has created prints of them. Her reasoning is that these are one generation removed from the restoration work.
I just watched this for the first time thanks to this series. In one of Scott’s responses he says about the ballet sequence, “Powell and Pressburger manage the seemingly impossible feat of persuading us of the true collaborative genius of this trio while also conjuring magic that could only be done for the movies.” I assume this refers to Lermontov, as the other two would be less impossible given that one does the music and the other is the star on stage?
But what struck me is that Lermontov is never shown being creative or really doing anything constructive for the ballets that “his” company puts on. Craster composes and conducts, with seemingly no input from Lermontov; Grischa choreographs, with seemingly no input from Lermontov; and the troupe, led by Victoria Page (and that was also Grischa as the shoemaker?), puts on its astonishing performances with lots of input from Grischa but seemingly nothing from Lermontov. He gets to be the famous genius who is high society’s coveted party guest without demonstrating merit to us. Imagine ALL THAT JAZZ if Joe Gideon contributed nothing creatively to his productions and that’s my impression of Lermontov’s depiction in this film. Which worked for me because I thought it was part of story Powell and Pressburger were telling. But Scott’s view sounds like the opposite.
Part of my reaction is likely watching this from a USA 2024 perspective and the lionization of executives like Steve Jobs and Elon Musk. But, like, what does Lermontov do other than scold people and hold meetings? Grischa exclaiming, “Oh, a conference!” and flopping onto the sofa in one of the later scenes made me laugh out loud.
Curiously enough, THE BATTLE OF THE RIVER PLATE/PURSUIT OF THE GRAF SPEE and ILL MET BY MOONLIGHT/NIGHT AMBUSH were among the first Powell & Pressburger films I saw when I got into them purely because they showed up on cable. (This would have been pre-TCM, so AMC, I guess.) Not terrible, but far from outstanding. I found more to appreciate about OH… ROSALINDA!! when I finally caught up with it.
I really like Battle Of The River Plate. It’s not a masterpiece, but it’s a first-rate war thriller, with a nice eye for detail. Kinda like Bridge Of Spies The Departed—not the best thing they’ve ever done, but excellent for what it is.
I saw this (on glorious 35mm!) at a revival theater back in the 80s. I'd never seen it, and tried to avoid knowing much about it going in. I was enchanted from the first frame, but when we got to the "Miss Page will not be dancing tonight" scene, I completely lost it. The writing is superb and the spotlight dance is heartbreaking, but it's really Anton Walbrook's performance that sells it. His performances in this and Colonel Blimp can't possibly be praised enough
Word. In having this conversation with Keith, I found myself thinking (and writing) so much more about Lermontov than Victoria or Julian because his motives and emotions are deeper and more compelling, and that announcement from stage really hits harder because of it. Were he merely a cold taskmaster, it wouldn't play.
I caught a screening of this (in 35mm as well) on campus about a decade back. It fell during the same weekend as a horror convention I wanted to attend because Stuart Gordon was going to be there, so I drove out Friday night, did the convention (including a midnight screening), and got up early enough the next day to make it back to town in time for THE RED SHOES. I have no regrets.
I've been looking forward to this one for a while as THE RED SHOES has long been one of my blind spots and this seemed like a perfect opportunity to watch it. Great film and great discussion. I found myself saying "Holy shit, movies can look like THIS?!" about a dozen times during the runtime (which I seem to remember happening with BLACK NARCISSUS as well.)
Let's talk about that ballet performance centerpiece. It put me immediately in mind of some of the big showstoppers of the MGM musicals like SINGIN' IN THE RAIN's "Broadway Rhythm" sequence, where the filmmakers aren't afraid to depart reality and do something purely cinematic. Which is why I found it fascinating that some critics didn't respond to that at ALL. Richard Winnington wrote at the time that as soon as that sequence starts you are in "the realms of Disney and the Hollywood dream sequence" (not in a good way.) And the great Danny Peary, writing decades later, opined that "the ballet shouldn't be stylized at all" and makes the return to reality "miserable" for the rest of the movie. Hogwash! Give me more fantastical musical interludes!
(Also in a sign of how the reputation of The Archers has grown in the past couple decades especially, Peary's 1986 Guide for the Film Fanatic and Pauline Kael's 1991 edition of 5001 Nights at the Movies include only 3 or 4 Powell/Pressburger movies and Kael limits her analysis of them to "master purveyors of high kitsch.")
This is one of those movies that snuck into my top five without me even realizing it was happening--I just kept watching it, and sharing it with people, and thinking, "Man, I would love to watch that again," and bam.
I watched this first over 20 years ago back in college, and was blown away, even on my old tube TV (though it was a pretty nice tube TV). I rewatched it last May on my OLED and the ballet is still stunning, though I was less enamored of the film around it. The ending really landed with a thud for me this time, except for Anton Walbrook's performance when he's informing the audience. Not just her fate, but the whole dilemma is silly, both because there's no reason she can't be married and perform, and because there's never any sense of what Lermontov actually contributes creatively, both at all and compared to other ballet owners. So for me overall it's below Colonel Blimp, A Matter Of Life And Death, and I Know Where I'm Going.
When it ended, my girlfriend pointed out that the 2000 ballet movie CENTER STAGE has an ending that could almost be seen as a modern-day response to how THE RED SHOES concludes. In that movie the heroine in the end exercises her agency to both continue working with the artistic genius who will propel her to greater stardom AND maintain her romantic relationship with the other talented artist. And both of the men accept this!
Now, does the movie contain a 15-minute ballet interlude that is one of the most striking scenes ever filmed? Maybe not, but does THE RED SHOES have a scene where the bad boy lead dancer rides onto stage on a motorcycle to Michael Jackson's "The Way You Make Me Feel?" Checkmate.
You've inspired me to watch The Red Shoes again, which I will do very soon. It will take longer, though, to wrap my head around that story of the Cannes audience at Blue Is the Warmest Color....
FWIW Schoonmaker does not prefer you to watch these restored versions on 35mm, even though the BFI has created prints of them. Her reasoning is that these are one generation removed from the restoration work.
I just watched this for the first time thanks to this series. In one of Scott’s responses he says about the ballet sequence, “Powell and Pressburger manage the seemingly impossible feat of persuading us of the true collaborative genius of this trio while also conjuring magic that could only be done for the movies.” I assume this refers to Lermontov, as the other two would be less impossible given that one does the music and the other is the star on stage?
But what struck me is that Lermontov is never shown being creative or really doing anything constructive for the ballets that “his” company puts on. Craster composes and conducts, with seemingly no input from Lermontov; Grischa choreographs, with seemingly no input from Lermontov; and the troupe, led by Victoria Page (and that was also Grischa as the shoemaker?), puts on its astonishing performances with lots of input from Grischa but seemingly nothing from Lermontov. He gets to be the famous genius who is high society’s coveted party guest without demonstrating merit to us. Imagine ALL THAT JAZZ if Joe Gideon contributed nothing creatively to his productions and that’s my impression of Lermontov’s depiction in this film. Which worked for me because I thought it was part of story Powell and Pressburger were telling. But Scott’s view sounds like the opposite.
Part of my reaction is likely watching this from a USA 2024 perspective and the lionization of executives like Steve Jobs and Elon Musk. But, like, what does Lermontov do other than scold people and hold meetings? Grischa exclaiming, “Oh, a conference!” and flopping onto the sofa in one of the later scenes made me laugh out loud.