Lost in Criterion

Having finished the World Cinema boxset, we had resigned ourselves that we would have to go back to doing some acrobatics to read Marxism into the films for awhile again, but little did we expect that Michael Mann's Thief (1981) isn't just a stylish heist film but is also (and moreso) a rumination on the exploitation of labor and rent seeking. There's power in a union, but there's also apparently power in burning everything down just to show your boss who has control.

The first World Cinema Boxset draws to a close with Kim Ki-young's The Housemaid (1960), a film whose influence you can clearly see in many modern South Korean directors' work, from Bong Joon-ho to Park Chan-wook. A sort of domestic horror film punctuated with a moral message ending that left us floored for the audacity of its presentation, The Housemaid is maybe the best movie in a boxset of bangers, a thing I think I've said about each film in the set at this point.

We also take some time to reflect on the set as a whole, its weird collection of sponsors, and how we very much want more of this from Criterion.

This week the World Cinema Project boxset changes pace a bit with Trances, Ahmed El Maanouni's 1981 documentary on Moroccan avant-garde band Nass El Ghiwane. But it doesn't change pace too much, as this Nass El Ghiwane's music is firmly anti-colonial and the band members' interviews deliver overt Marxist messaging in much the same way as the previous four films of the set have been.

It's becoming increasingly obvious that the World Cinema Project is Martin Scorsese's plot to smuggle openly Marxist films into the Criterion Collection, and Metin Erksan's Dry Summer (1963) continues the trend. Erksan imagines a world where one rich man can enclose those common goods that sustain life, where one man's greed can choke his community and his own family. Surely not a world that could exist outside of film. 

Halfway through the World Cinema Project Vol. 1 boxset and the hits keep coming. This week it's all about the trauma of separation: familial and economic, but also in light of the Partition of India and Bangladeshi independence. Ritwik Ghatak's A River Called Titas (1973) is an intimidating work, lengthy and meandering like the titular river. Its also beautiful and dynamic, tragic and melodramatic. Its a full package brimming over, and a highlight in a boxset that's only highlights.

We continue through the World Cinema Project Vol 1 boxset with a 1936 film from Mexico, though with a rather international production crew, that presages Italian neorealism probably.

Redes is among the more openly Marxist films the Criterion Collection has shown us, though I have a feeling that's going to be true for a lot of what we see from the World Cinema Project. It began life as a documentary about a fishing community near Veracruz sponsored by Mexico's Secretariat of Public Education, but collaborators Fred Zinnemann (co-directing), Emilio Gómez Muriel (co-directing), Paul Strand (cinematography), the non-professional cast performing their daily lives, and a myriad of others behind and in front of the camera grew it into a semi-documentary tale organizing against the oppression of capitalism.

This week we start the first Martin Scorcese's World Cinema Project boxset, a growing sub-collection - currently at 5 volumes - containing films from regions under-represented from the broader Criterion Collection. Or unrepresented at all elsewise. Volume 1, for instance, contains our first two Criterion films made in Africa by African directors.

Our first film is one of them comes from Senegal, Touki bouki (1973) directed by Djibril Diop Mambéty. If you must find analogues it's sort of Easy Rider via Jean Cocteau, but the film is one of the most unique we've experienced.

Whew there's a lot to talk about this week: a Robert Altman film with two dozen characters all worth spending time with, interviews with the director across three decades that appear to show a man slowly more willing to believe in Auteur Theory about himself as time passes, and a lot to unpack about political violence against women.

What if all the people in charge were actually criminals, but so insulated by power that no amount of clear evidence could lead to them being investigated? Crazy right?

Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion (1970) is our only film from Elio Petri in the Criterion Collection, which is disappointing because from what we can tell his work is like if Pier Paolo Pasolini only did mass market genre stuff. Of course it's also just impeccable mass market genre stuff filled with radical politics, which Petri termed PolPop, political popular film. It's right up our alley.

Greta Gerwig's writing and acting in the titular role go a long way to make us like our second Noah Baumbach film much more than our first. While Kicking and Screaming (Spine 329) was a little too Whit Stillman for us - and over half the podcast ago - we found 2012's Frances Ha much more relatable and entertaining. It also helps that our friend Casey B. dropped everything to talk with us about a movie she loves.