Showing posts with label working class. Show all posts
Showing posts with label working class. Show all posts

Sunday, April 6, 2025

Nuts in May - made for TV



 





















Director Mike Leigh

Leigh with Alison Steadman and Roger Sloman








NUTS IN MAY – made for TV                    B+                                                                           Great Britain  (81 mi)  1976  d: Mike Leigh        episode of BBC “Play for Today”

You’re breaking the laws of the campsite and the laws of the country code.                                —Keith Pratt (Roger Sloman)

Basically the template for Ben Wheatley’s hilariously dark road trip spiraling out of control in Sightseers (2012), as after making his film debut with Bleak Moments (1971), Leigh took a 17-year hiatus from feature filmmaking and instead worked exclusively for British television filming his own plays, mostly for the BBC English Regions Drama department (ERD) when it was led by the renowned producer, David Rose, during what is often described as the ‘golden age’ of British television.  Having studied acting at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts in London during the early 1960’s, his interest in writing and directing led him to switch schools several times, ultimately graduating from the London School of Film Technique (now the London Film School) in 1965.  About that time he began developing a method for creating narratives that relied upon extensive rehearsals and actors’ improvisations to manufacture characters and conflict in an organic manner, where instead of focusing on a traditional storyline, his films rely intensely on characters, explored with as much detail as possible, which would become a signature feature of Leigh’s working method for the rest of his career, Mike Leigh Arena Making Plays The Life And Work Of Mike ... YouTube (1:20:44).  This is almost certainly the best known of the low-budget, BBC Pebble Mill’s Plays for Today, along with Abigail’s Party (1977), a taped version of the pre-existing stage production, where the subtlety and uniqueness of these films have long been overlooked, seemingly made on a shoestring budget, small in scale, dealing with daily domestic life and relationships, yet never given the same critical attention as his features, though some of Britain’s best directors made a significant portion of their films for television, most shot very quickly on 16mm, which would include Stephen Frears, Ken Loach, Peter Greenaway, Alan Clarke, and Richard Eyre.  Mike Leigh’s first television drama for ERD was a half-hour studio piece called Permissive Society in 1975, which led to this film, both notable for having no musical score.  At first, a lot of BBC staff were rather dubious of Mike Leigh’s improvisatory way of working, with the crew suggesting there’s a guy down there in the studio and they’re making it up as they go along, but what they were missing is Leigh’s careful observation of the actors interacting as the characters and developing storylines from those interactions.  David Rose originated from Dorset and wanted to depict the region, offering a sense of place, reflecting the life and culture outside of London. There seemed to be few writers from the South West and therefore Leigh was invited to make a film set around the Isle of Purbeck.  Focusing on the suburban south, Leigh’s ability to create chillingly convincing middle-class monsters emerges here, and while this is the lighter side of Mike Leigh, it has darker implications, filled with wicked humor, funny and painful at the same time, featuring characters who are hilariously unlikeable, offering observations on class and society in a more humorously imaginative yet still coherent and meaningful way, perhaps the only straightforward comedy Leigh has ever made, arguably the definitive work about the British camping holiday, where a pleasant journey into the countryside seeking a quiet refuge from the noise and industrial pollution in London produces catastrophic results.  As he has often insisted, there is no “them” in Leigh’s work, where we are always meant to see ourselves in every calamity, as Hell is never reserved for other people, yet tolerating them may feel like it.

With the great outdoors beckoning, this film captures the Back-to-the-land movement of the 1970’s as a backdrop, with substantial numbers of people migrating from cities to rural areas, associated with hippie communes and the Summer of Love, The Whole Earth Catalog, and Mother Earth News in the USA, while in the UK it was rooted in a desire for self-sufficiency and reconnecting with nature with an increased ecological awareness, encompassing various aspects, including organic farming, homesteading, and a search for a simpler life, where it was viewed as a countercultural response to the perceived ills of modern urban life and industrial society.  This film reminds us that 1970’s television was much more progressive and thought provoking, more welcoming to unorthodox ideas, freed from objectionable restrictions, allowing greater experimentation, and was actually a breeding ground for budding artists.  Ordinary lives are given dimension and complexity here because Leigh has a gift for using the close-up, speech patterns, and the silence of his characters to explore under the surface in order to capture the essence of who they are.  Like Ken Loach, an avowed socialist, both are independent filmmakers known for portraying the working class experience, yet Leigh’s films often have a comic and satiric edge, not as overtly political as Loach, accentuating the personal, creating a world too ambiguous and rife with contradictions to offer political alternatives or easy answers, focusing instead on a depiction of dramatic interactions and behavior, more intent on raising questions and possibilities rather than offering any political or social solutions.  While extending his deepest sympathies for his working class characters, many behave badly, victimize themselves, and live pathetic, constricted lives.  In a Mike Leigh film nothing comes easy, as his characters’ flaws never disappear, continuing to grate on the nerves of the audience, where this film follows the path of liberal do-gooders who narrow-mindedly flaunt their moral superiority, immersed in a fantasized Walden utopia that turns their social consciousness on its ear in this blistering satire of British middle class attitudes and manners, becoming a study of class antagonism and the insecurities of masculinity.  The young married couple at the center of this drama are Alison Steadman (married at the time to the director, also in Abigail’s Party) and Roger Sloman as Candice Marie and Keith Pratt, a maddeningly self-righteous and opinionated couple from Croydon going car-camping in the English countryside, where one thing that’s undeniably clear is that the characters are etched so vividly that they lived on in the memories of the audience for many years afterwards, so they really stand out.   Candice Marie, who works in a toy store, is that shy and submissive, artsy type who spends her time drawing, painting, or collecting shells from the shoreline of the Jurassic Coast, while also composing inane songs that sound more like goofy jingles, always playing second fiddle to her obsessional, anal retentive husband Keith, a patronizing, pompous, and domineering control freak who always treats her like a child and is what we commonly call a know-it-all, having organized their 10-day journey with great precision, refusing to budge from the itinerary, where his reasoning is “What’s the point of having a schedule if you don’t stick to it?”  Inexplicably, his reading material at bedtime is The Guinness Book of Records.   

Listed at #63 from Time Out’s list of Best British Movies | 100 Best British Films of All Time, the drama is generated simply by being who they are as opposed to arising out of actions, where Keith is a doofus, yet the interest lies not in anything he does in any given moment, but who he remains throughout, a mirror image of the snobbish and deeply repressed John Cleese in Fawlty Towers or Monty Python skits with its devastatingly awkward humor.  The first thing that stands out is their car, which they have packed to the gills, a 1961 Morris Minor 1000 convertible, known for its iconic design and “Englishness.”  Right from the outset there is drama in how they interact with each other, as we see them traipsing around Corfe Castle with its numbered landmark spots along the way, where we see them absurdly arguing over who should hold the castle’s guidebook, with Keith refusing to relinquish control, always rushing ahead, leaving Candice Marie behind as she struggles to keep up, totally dependent upon whatever information he’s willing to share, usually shouted from a distance, so immediately we’re aware of the imbalance of power.  While they’re folk-singing vegetarian types, the kind who lecture other people on the evils of eating meat, also non-smokers, but the kind who enjoy describing tar-caked lungs to anyone they see smoking, with Keith swearing that food needs to be chewed 72 times before swallowing, as if that’s a proven scientific fact, while also jotting down every expenditure in his ledger, their vacation idyll is interrupted by another vacationer, Ray (Anthony O’Donnell), who has set up his tent right next to theirs, blaring the transistor radio, even though he’s not really listening to it.  When they ask him to turn it off, he simply refuses, leaving Keith fuming, as if betrayed by the commoners, so they move their tent farther away.  On an excursion to Stair Hole and Durdle Door, a famous natural limestone arch that can be seen standing erect along the coastline, they end up getting drenched by the rain, stopping their car for a pedestrian who turns out to be Ray, with Candice Marie taking a friendly interest while Keith simply refuses to speak to him.  Her attempts to be social infuriate Keith, whose dogmatic obstinance is nothing less than jealous outrage, so when she invites him over afterwards for a cup of tea, Keith bullies him into joining them for a singalong, which couldn’t be more absurdly irritating, where that tortured expression on Ray’s hapless face is priceless, Zoo Song - Nuts in May[Mike Leigh] YouTube (3:30).  Disinterest is something that Keith clearly doesn’t notice or care about.  When an even noisier couple from the Midlands arrives on their motorbike, Finger (Stephen Bill) and Honky (Sheila Kelley), chaotically sharing the same space, refusing to go to bed quietly, with alcohol flowing freely leading to loud, boisterous sexual activity, Keith simply loses it.  Flouting the “country code,” he attempts to make a citizen’s arrest the next day when they have the unmitigated gall to build a fire, which is forbidden, of course, as tempers flare, where his embarrassing frustration boils over into Monty Pythonesque hysteria, quickly becoming the butt of their jokes, which only pisses him off even more, causing them to leave altogether, completely fed up with all these horrible people, yet in reality they cannot escape the horror of other people, which may as well be a prescient metaphor for Brexit.  Nothing earthshaking happens here, where Americans are often perplexed by a cinema in which nothing seems to happen, though Leigh’s drama of transformation is rooted in the layered rehearsal of interpersonal dynamics observed with the patience of Japanese director Yasujirō Ozu, but it’s impossible to forget just how easily the characters continually get under our skin, making this a small gem of a movie that continues to impress even after all these years.  Rare and hard to find, but well worth the effort.    

Nuts In May (1976) : Mike Leigh  YouTube (1:20:58)

Nuts In May (1976) with commentary by Mike Leigh  YouTube (1:20:58)

Monday, January 22, 2024

Fallen Leaves (Kuolleet lehdet)


 














Writer/director Aki Kaurismäki

The director with his dogs

The director with his lead actors

The director on the red carpet at Cannes
















 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

FALLEN LEAVES (Kuolleet lehdet)          B+                                                                          Finland  Germany  (81 mi)  2023  d: Aki Kaurismäki

I’m imprisioned here forever                                                                                                  Fences surround the graveyard too                                                                                               When my last earthly task is finally done                                                                                      You’ll still dig me deeper into the ground.

—Maustetytöt, Syntynyt Suruun Ja Puettu Pettymyksin (Born Of Sorrow And Clothed With Disappointments)

A throwback to the Aki Kaurismäki of old, this is an exaggerated working class romance fantasy that accentuates “the Finnish reality” of making the best out of a wretchedly miserable situation, a laughable alternative to Candide’s “the best of all possible worlds,” yet both Voltaire and Kaurismäki sympathetically accentuate the best humanist traditions, with Kaurismäki portraying down-on-their-luck individuals driven to outrageous acts by an oppressive society, becoming dark comedies that are characterized by laconic humor, drinking, detached irony, and smoking.  Centered in an industrial section of the Finnish capital of Helsinki, the grimness of his protagonist’s lives are deeply entrenched in a social realist cityscape that offers a dreamlike avenue of escape through a redemptive power of love.  Deeply cynical and darkly comedic, this director makes the most out of so little, where his minimalist style uses succinct and extremely well-chosen staccato language that plays out like a haiku poem, with no rehearsals and usually only one take, evoking the visual precision of Bresson and the gritty tone of Fassbinder.  Pre-occupied with working class loners encumbered by soulless jobs in bleak surroundings, they express a marked disdain for rigid authoritarian rules, where preserving one’s dignity feels paramount, typically finding refuge in dive bars, where drinking is man’s last salvation, viewed as an almost heroic retreat from the blistering conformity of their lives, where rock ‘n’ roll music provides the sardonic tone of absurdity necessary to survive the eternal gloom that permeates such an enveloping wasteland where the future always looks grim.  Premiering at Cannes where it won the Jury Prize (3rd Place), easily the shortest of all the films in competition, while also listed in the Top Ten of Cahiers du Cinéma, Film Comment, IndieWire, Time, Atlantic, Ringer, Slant, and John Waters, Movies - Year-End Lists, it is heralded as the 4th film in his earlier Proletariat Trilogy, SHADOWS IN PARADISE (1986), Ariel (1988), and THE MATCH FACTORY GIRL (1990), though it could just as easily fit into his Helsinki Trilogy, seemingly having more in common with DRIFTING CLOUDS (1996), as it navigates the debilitating despair and insurmountable hopelessness that comes from searching for happiness in low-wage, dead-end jobs that offer no benefits or job security.  Featuring two new actors who have never worked with this director before, they are new faces gracing the screen, yet both exhibit that deadpan comic timing which is an essential component of any Kaurismäki film, where an outlandish Kafkaesque absurdity drives the film with the precision of Samuel Beckett one-liners.  The sometimes shy and other times emboldened Ansa (Alma Pöysti) works a mindlessly repetitive job at a grocery store while the disillusioned yet ever stoic Holappa (Jussi Vatanen) is a construction worker who is seemingly inseparable from a hidden bottle of booze, a predominate theme in Kaurismäki movies, coming from a place where heavy alcohol consumption is such an entrenched part of the culture.  With documentary style precision of their respective workplaces, their dreary lives meet in a karaoke bar, each accompanied by their one and only friend, Liisa (Nuppu Koivu) and Huotari (Janne Hyytiäinen), yet the raw, pulsating rhythm from 1974 - Hurriganes Get On YouTube (3:44) announces that we’re in for a wild ride, as it lures viewers into the mindset, setting the tone for what follows.  You haven’t lived, apparently, until you’ve heard the enduring popularity of Mambo italiano YouTube (2:40) sung in Finnish.

The most-watched domestic film of the year in Finland, a first for this director, part of what makes it so special is the director’s unique ability to capture palpable modern emotions via silence and expressions rather than words, very much resembling silent films, where everyday details register as grand, meaningful cinematic gestures, while his unorthodox, jukebox soundtrack fills the screen with humorous asides that bring irony to the next level.  The maker of La Vie de Bohème (The Bohemian Life) (1992), Lights in the Dusk (Laitakaupungin Valot) (2006), Le Havre (2011), and The Other Side of Hope (Toivon tuolla puolen) (2017), though for my money it’s hard to top Take Care of Your Scarf, Tatjana (Pidä huivista kiinni, Tatjana) (1994), Kaurismäki is a director who takes great pleasure in filming outcasts on the fringe of society, where what stands out in each of his films is the disintegration of the working class and thwarted social advancement, shattering all aspirations for a better life, where exploitation in the workplace is the norm, leaving characters stuck in an indifferent world from which there is no escape.  Gloominess and romance typically do not mix, yet here they merge to a surprisingly comical and heartfelt effect, as both characters clearly have some sort of baggage, yet the film moves along at a snappy pace even with long scenes where the camera barely moves, giving the film a simplicity and lightheartedness which elevates it into a rare form of cinematic treasure that simply can’t be found elsewhere.  Adding to the oppressive tone are the recurring radio broadcasts of the Russian invasion of Ukraine heard on old-school radios in their homes, relying upon news reports by radio instead of television, where the monotonous nature of these messages act as historical time capsules that you immediately want to tune out, reflecting just how ordinary this worldwide calamity has become on the modern landscape, affecting people all over the world.  Let’s not forget Finland is on Russia’s border, where Putin’s troops are never far away.  Triggered by the aggression, Finland joined the NATO military alliance immediately after the invasion, while it’s important to recall that Kaurismäki once boycotted the Oscars in protest of the Iraq war.  Yet, as Susan Sontag suggests in her 2003 book-length essay, REGARDING THE PAIN OF OTHERS Susan Sontag, people can become unresponsive to horror, even though thousands of families have lost their loved ones and their possessions forever.  Making matters worse, both characters keep losing their jobs, which is another everyday reality they have to contend with, where money is scarce, so both keep their emotions tightly in check, never knowing what tomorrow will bring.  Both appear to be diligent workers, hardly the troublemakers they are made out to be by overzealous employers, though drinking while operating heavy machinery does present definite problems, especially when management couldn’t care less about faulty equipment.  What Kaurismäki has done is craft a storyline where, through a series of mishaps, both characters find each other and lose each other and then find each other and lose each other again, both physically and emotionally, where the struggle to stay afloat resembles the sardonic tone of Roy Andersson’s existential parables in his Living Trilogy, SONGS FROM THE SECOND FLOOR (2000), YOU, THE LIVING (2007), and A Pigeon Sat On a Branch Reflecting On Existence (En duva satt på en gren och funderade på tillvaron) (2014), yet also About Endlessness (Om det oändliga) (2019).  Kaurismäki predates Andersson, but both are in the same mold of bone-dry Nordic humor.

Holappa: I’m depressed
Huotari: Why?
Holappa: Because I drink
Huotari: Why do you drink?
Holappa: Because I’m depressed

Their first date is memorable, with Kaurismäki paying homage to his beloved cinema, as there are movie references everywhere you look.  Taking place in a sparsely populated arthouse theater, they attend a screening of Jim Jarmusch’s absurdist apocalyptic zombie movie The Dead Don't Die (2019), where one older patron hilariously explains afterwards that it reminded him of Bresson’s Diary of a Country Priest (Journal d'un curé de campagne) (1951), while another mentioned Godard’s Band of Outsiders (Bande à Part) (1964).  A prominently placed poster for Luchino Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers (1960) is featured in a bar, while inside the theater posters are seen for Bresson’s L'Argent (1983) and Jean-Pierre Melville’s LE SAMOURAÏ (1967).  Outside the theater we see Finnish movie posters of David Lean’s BRIEF ENCOUNTER (1945), Sam Newfield’s LOST CONTINENT (1951), Godard’s Contempt (Le Mépris) (1963) and Pierrot le Fou (1965), something of a movie lover’s dream, FALLEN LEAVES Clip | TIFF 2023 YouTube (1:23), where you’ve got to love that rush of romantic strings from Tchaikovsky’s 6th Symphony, a sure sign of romance ahead.  While Ansa has a first generation Nokia flip phone, he has none, or even a permanent address, so she writes her phone number on paper, which he promptly loses, leaving him in limbo trying to find her afterwards, which is reflected not only in their disconnect from the conveniences of modern electronics, but in the bare furnishings and rather dated furniture of their apartments as well, perfectly captured in a hilarious moment when Ansa receives her electric bill in the mail.  Alienated from themselves and each other, there are so many awkward looks in this film, where characters seemingly have nothing to say, with a camera lingering to prolong the discomfort, yet that karaoke bar is filled with a stream of witty, lyrical references from the lush romanticism of Schubert’s lieder, Jussi Björling; "Ständchen" - Franz Schubert - YouTube (5:03), which is actually sung by Mika Nikander, a bass who has performed with the Finnish National Opera, to the chilly expressionless performance style of the platinum-blonde Finnish sister duo Maustetytöt - Syntynyt suruun ja puettu pettymyksin (Live 2020 ... YouTube (4:09).  Especially in context with such a heavy theme, where the weight of the world is on their shoulders, this film can feel rejuvenating in spirit, so authentically complex and intelligently composed, yet filled with funny gags, including a cameo appearance by longtime regular Sakari Kuosmanen, offering a sweetness and tenderness in the face of so many obstacles in their path, where the director’s own dog captures our collective hearts at the end.  There is no lack of irony with Kaurismäki, where a constant Brechtian estrangement, together with very rigorous compositions of predominantly static shots and a 35 mm cinematography with clear and particularly saturated colors, contributes to a grotesque and surreal character.  Yet, at the same time, there is also a crude social criticism concerning not only the dehumanization of work, but also the transience of life in a world in where just a small gust of wind could drastically change things.  The evocative imagery and pronounced symbolism from longtime cinematographer Timo Salminen is particularly effective, especially an early shot of Holappa looking at himself in front of a broken mirror that condenses the jagged look of a man with a broken identity into a single image.  Few filmmakers have achieved a style so personal and so immediately recognizable, providing an extremely concise style of filmmaking with an elegant structure that manages to touch viewers in familiar yet also unexpected ways, subverting the Boy Meets Girl narrative that we’ve seen so many times, so far outside the Hollywood mold, yet the final shot is an enduring tribute to Chaplin.