Filmistine attempts critique


http://dvdtoile.com/Film.php?id=16460&full_cast=1

The Book Group read Bonjour Tristesse a few years ago, and last weekend we had an outing to the Edinburgh Filmhouse to see the 1957 film of the book.

Total spoiler alert!!!!!

At age 18 Françoise Sagan produced this marvellous story of 17 year old Cécile on the cusp of adulthood, having failed her philosophy exams and spending the summer in the South of France with her father who was focussed on having bog standard patriarchal-type fun as it was conceived of in the early 1950’s. In other words he’d brought along a ‘mistress’ young enough for the average chauvinist while affable enough to be daughter’s friend and confidant.

Silly old Pa had forgotten his tipsy invite to a dress designer friend of the family. She arrived and things changed. Free spirited Cécile quite understandably resents being squashed into traditional upper-class maidenhood. Things get messy.

The book is great, but for once I thought the film was even better. Released in 1957, it is an example of filmmaking such as is not seen nowadays and not just because Deborah Kerr and David Niven are dead, but because I cannot recall seeing any other film scene where daughter is driving the car with Pa and chum inside on their way to a glamorous night out. Or driving round Paris in an open topped sports car with her poodle on her lap. I have to reflect at this point whether I enjoyed the cars, the Riviera scenery or the frocks more than the story.

The costumes altogether were a delight. Swimsuits before Lycra with a zip up the back, still failing to fit but looking superb. Kerr retained her cool crisp manner even in the Mediterranean heat, albeit with the addition of a flowered swim cap.
I realise I am interpreting the story at a distance of 50 odd years after it was written and filmed, and through a feminist lens. It absolutely stands up as a terrific example of young womanhood being forced into the straightjacket, that even now, some expect them to live in. And the resultant scheming that can produce as young women assert what little authority and power they can muster in the face of adult restrictions.

I won’t go into a whole discussion of the book, as it deserves to be read and judged on its merits. I'd like to comment more on the film, but as someone who is more filmistine than film critic, I'll leave it to the expert.  The New York Times 1957 review of the film is a gem. Read it and shriek.

Bonjour Tristesse (1957) 16.1.1958

Screen: Sad 'Tristesse'; Movie Emphasizes Novel's Weakness

By BOSLEY CROWTHER

ACCORDING to most of the book reviewers. Françoise Sagan's "Bonjour Tristesse" was an immature little novel, mainly a catalogue of moods experienced under the strain of a father-complex by a fairly precocious French girl. As a noticeable literary effort, it was somewhat astonishing but thin. The same must be said for the movie that Otto Preminger has made from it—with the astonishment excited for the most part by the ineptness with which it has been done. Almost everything about this picture, which opened at the Capitol yesterday, manifests bad taste, poor judgment and plain deficiency of skill.

In the first place Mr. Preminger, who directed as well as produced, and his scriptwriter. Arthur Laurents, have made no attempt at all to give a mature interpretation to the emotional whims of a 17-year-old girl. Mlle. Sagan's little story of a jealous child's willful move to stop her father from marrying an older woman by intruding one of his former mistresses is put forth literally as Mlle. Sagan wrote it, without any compensation for immaturity. The lack of discernment on the part of the author is carried over in the film.

The girl herself is a headstrong little vixen who stomps through the narrative scenes with an attitude of self-indulgence that inspires small sympathy. And in the scenes offensive reflection in which she thinks back on what has occurred, she is melancholy and self-pitying without sincerity.

The father, to whom she is devoted, is a figment—a shell of a man—a presumably charming playboy with no character or rationality. Why he flits about among women is never remotely explained. And the woman he suddenly aims to marry is simply a feminine facade that develops a final streak of prudery that is incomprehensible. These are plainly the creatures of a child's mind that make no sense in a presumably adult film.

What is more every one of the actors seems incompetent or uncomfortable in his role. Jean Seberg as the center of attention is a well-shaped but callow girl who reads her lines and takes her positions as if she were a misplaced amateur. David Niven is vapid as the father, with some thoroughly wretched things to say and do, and Deborah Kerr is in dire straits as the woman—the chic Parisian—who is beaten by a child.

Geoffrey Horne is oafish and stilted as a boy who has a brief yen for the girl, and Mylene Demongeot is flighty as the mistress who is dropped and later returns. Small roles are played with vain flamboyance by Walter Chiari and Martita Hunt.

Finally, with only passing notice of some crudely embarrassing scenes, we would say that this picture's chief pretension is the magnitude of its frame. Mr. Preminger has set the pipsqueak story in color and CinemaScope that show off the French Riviera more handsomely than a travelogue but smother the half-baked little fable in a mass of scenic cream. If Mr. Preminger thought to hide its smallness or disguise its bad taste thereby, he has goofed on the concoction. "Bonjour Tristesse" is a bomb.
http://movies.nytimes.com/movie/review?res=9C03E5D71E3AE53BBC4E52DFB7668383649EDE
Maybe it eventually grew on him?

I intend to look for more of Bosley Crowther’s film reviews anytime I need cheered up. I could also learn to write such stirring prose! As a final word picture, imagine Mark Kermode labelling anything ‘pipsqueak’.

Dreichness Abounds

It is grey and dismal this week, so here are some photos I took on Sunday afternoon on a ramble along Longniddry Bents. Hope they are cheering.


Looking across the river Forth to Fife

Parts of this area have SSSI designation, probably because of the birds which come here. I did not have my 'Girls Book of Birds - Easy identification version' with me, so I can't report what species I saw, but one lot had distinctive red legs and long beaks, so might have been something interesting.

Cockenzie power station with Arthur's Seat in the background
There was a surprising amount of heat in the sun. Not enough to take off any layers, except gloves, but certainly no chill breeze to cause me to scurry back to the car before I was ready to.



Looking downriver with the sun at my back

Someone from the Guardian appears to have visited the week before and didn’t get quite such glorious sun. They did know what they were talking about when they saw various birds.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2009/nov/02/longniddry-bents-east-lothian-ducks

Longniddry is on the John Muir Way which is 73km long. I reckon I did 73 yards along it until I found a way down onto the beach. I’ve walked another few yards of it a year or two back when I wandered around Yellowcraigs. As a confirmed non-rambler, I don’t imagine I’ll walk the whole lot anytime soon!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Muir_Way

Peace Poppies



When poppies were originally introduced prior to the Second World War, it was a time of increasing anxiety with remembrance being re-militarised. Remembrance had previously been something associated with grieving widows, but was being taken over by men and the military.
http://www.thenews.coop/features/Wider%20Co-op%20Movement/1676

I have a card from the Peace Pledge Union which came with the first white poppy I ever bought. It sits on my notice board. Here's part of what it says:

White poppies for peace were first made by the Women’s Co-operative Guild in 1933. Members of the Guild – many of whom were mothers and widows of men killed in WW1- feared that the ‘war to end all wars’, in which their men had died, would be followed by an even worse conflict. The white poppy was a reminder of the horrors of war. People who wore it did so as a way of insisting that those in power should resist war; that conflicts should be resolved without violence and with justice.

300 wars later, and after the slaughter of over 100 million people, the white poppy continues to be a reminder of the world’s failure to prevent war. It is a symbol of grief for everyone who has been harmed by war, but more importantly it is a symbol of our determination to work together to abolish war for good.
In the years since that was written, the 100 million people killed because of military conflicts, will have gone up considerably.


The Peace Pledge Union has a particularly informative website outlining peace initiatives and conflict resolution education.

http://www.ppu.org.uk/

Today and on 11th Nov I will think of those who lost their lives during the 20th century genocides large and small, as well as those who have been killed so far in this century. But I will also think of how unnecessary armed conflict is. If humans are intelligent enough to co-operate to the extent it takes to actually fight a war, then surely an equal effort can be made to resolve conflict.

Squash recipes and wee meander



I’ve been playing in the kitchen with the lovely squashes and pumpkins available this season. Here are three recipes I thought turned out pretty well.

Butternut Squash Casserole
Few handfuls of kasha
Medium leek, sliced
One small or half a large butternut squash, cubed
Sliced green pepper
Glass red wine
Veg oil
1 tsp sweet paprika
1 tbsp tomato puree
Liquid veg stock
Seasonings

Toast the kasha, then set aside while you gently fry the butternut squash, leeks and green pepper. Add garlic if liked.
Slosh in red wine, liquid veg stock, paprika and tomato puree. Then add the toasted kasha and enough water to cover.
Cook either on the stovetop in a covered pan or transfer to a casserole dish and cook in a very moderate oven until the kasha swells and reaches the desired consistency – probably 45-60 minutes.



Stuffed Harlequin Squash
Harlequin squash are a handy two-portion size in a distinct colour combination of pale orangey/cream and green.

One harlequin squash
Small onion chopped
3 sliced sun dried tomatoes
Two handfuls chopped peanuts
Few oz Jarlsberg cheese, grated
Fine breadcrumbs
Parsley, finely chopped
Bouillon powder

Cut the squash in half and place cut side down on an oiled baking sheet and cook in a medium oven until soft enough to be scooped out.
Fry the onion and mix with the cooked squash, sun dried tomatoes, peanuts, bouillon powder and cheese. Pack the mix back into the squash shells and top with the breadcrumbs and parsley. Dot with butter and cook in the oven for 10 minutes or until heated through and the breadcrumbs are crisped.



Pumpkin Flan

Filling
One slice of pumpkin such as Ironbark pumpkin
One egg
Bouillon powder
Grated nutmeg

Flan base
Two handfuls of each of the following:
Pumpkin seeds
Sunflower seeds
Ground almonds
Melted butter to mix
Seasoning

Roast chunks of pumpkin in veg oil in the oven until very soft. Drain and puree thoroughly. When cool, mix with well beaten egg, nutmeg and bouillon powder.
Grind the seeds and add to the ground almonds. Mix into the melted butter and season. Press into individual flan bases and cook in the oven till firm.

Place the pumpkin mix in the flan bases and return to the oven to cook till set.



The photographs are of lovely flowers I was sent – obviously ‘coz I am so deserving. But probably coz Sig Other is exhibiting his brains with some Belgians, Norwegians, assorted Celtic fringe representatives, Baltic teams and other English folks in Holland this weekend. Well done to his team which won top of his section of clever people who can recall the right facts at the right time, assisted by an ability to make links between disparate clues to get answers correct. So I get to be in Edinburgh and enjoy flowers rather than be a ‘QUAG(B)’ (quizzing wife and girlfriend (boyfriend)).

I Quagged in Tallinn one year which was fine as Tallinn is just the most glorious old city, and I got to be in a fun quiz team with Nicolas Parsons. Delightful old gentleman, but we failed in our aim (everyone in the team’s aim except NP) to come last, in spite of our disinclination to contradict a national treasure when he proposed incorrect answers.

I’ve just read that back, and can assure myself that it makes sense, at least to me.

And here’s a pic of Tallinn showing a view of the old city merging in the distance with the new.


Autumn in the Botanic Gardens


Very happy ducks.


The new visitor centre opened recently at the Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh, so of I trotted to see what they’d done with it. I was impressed! The building is beautiful outside and in.
http://www.rbge.org.uk/about-us/news/stories/john-hope-gateway-open

I took some pics during what was a short, and wet visit to the gardens. If you look on the RBGE website there are superb photographs, but mine are not too bad considering my extremely amateur status.





In the rain - taken while balancing my umbrella, camera and some pine cones I collected from the sodden grass.

The the rain stopped and people started walking about again.


I came across some fungus in the damp undergrowth.