The Cook, the Thief, his Wife and her Lover (1989): My first take of Peter Greenaway and, wow, I was pretty much blown away by. Just think The Menu, only X rated, but even that is just a blurby way of describing it. We’re indulged with an engrossing atmosphere, set against an otherworldly set design, costumes by JP Gaultier, dishes by to-be Michelin starred chef Giorgio Locatelli, a phenomenal score by Michael Nyman (points for those who remember me mentioning him in my Man With the Movie Camera review), and featuring a rampant performance by Michael Gambon. The movie is brutal, disgusting, obscene, sensual and absolutely dramatic, which is something that I don’t seem to have outgrown ever since I first watched Requiem for a Dream. Everything seems to happen in Gambon’s shadow, but Helen Mirren proves an able counterpart, even if I felt her role was not as consistent. If at all possible, this is a solid recommendation for a big screen experience, that should linger with you for a good long while afterwards (for better and worse). 9
The Scent of Green Papaya (1993): If Tran Anh Hung swayed your sensibilities with The Taste of Things (2023), then I’m quite sure you can easily serve his other movies as well. It’s not like there are that many to begin with. But this was his first, a generational story of a Vietnamese family who takes in a young servant girl, Mui (Man San Lu). Through her we experience not only the family’s dramas, which play out in a subdued manner, but also the connection she forges to the minutiae of life. The house in which most of the movie unfolds is also something of an experience, very different to what we might be used to in Europe, making it feel like a distinctive and lively presence. I didn’t love the last part, although – or in particular because – it was so romantic it almost hurt. 7
Pianoforte (2023): The International Chopin Piano Competition is a big thing for up and coming pianists and director Jakub Piatek follows a handful or so of them in this fly-on-the-wall type of documentary. It’s as sensitive a piece of filmmaking as the nature of its subject, highlighting the sorrow more than the elation of (uncomfortable) competition. The idea of establishing a “best of”, particularly in the arts, has always seemed strange to me, but one could say this is the tradition of the painful way forward towards having an elite career in this field. Could it be different? Regardless, it comes easily to feel for the protagonists, youthful teenagers and twenty-somethings, insanely prodigious and precocious people who have dedicated most of their lives (up to that point) to mastering this unwieldly piano. Piatek’s fairly minimalistic style isn’t groundbreaking, nor are the insights we get into what sometimes looks like a high-school cast that rarely interacts, but there’s an honesty to it that makes it endearing. 7
The Thomas Crown Affair (1999): Although I was skeptical about the way this movie started, it grew on me. The opening isn’t even that bad – Pierce Brosnan is being a tad suspicious but not overly as a team of expert-looking (definitely NOT Romanian thieves) are preparing an elaborate heist of a museum. Things twist and queue sexy insurance investigator Rene Russo coming in, who appears to have all the answers while the police haven’t even figured out the questions. Ugh, too much for me. But there’s a nice ebb and flow that grows between the two leads and the movie plays out not only in an entertaining fashion, but also in a kind of touching one. The matter of trust and who is ready to risk theirs remains as important as ever in the age of online dating, so why not raise the stakes a bit while we’re at it? 7
The Thomas Crown Affair (1968): I made my way back in time to Norman Jewison’s original TCA. While many of the elements are similar, the movie plays quite differently – as a more or less conventional caper, with the added romance twist between “the investigator” and “the suspect”. It’s considerably more sober and less sultry than the remake, in spite of the moments when Steve McQueen and Faye Dunaway play the sexiest game of chess ever caught on film. While Jewison brings a more stylish touch, starting from the title sequence featuring an Oscar winning song that I’m totally enamored with, the chemistry between the leads is less exciting and the finale less satisfying. What will stay with me more is finding out about the sad demise of McQueen (first movie with him that I’ve ever seen), as well as noticing Hal Ashby (director of Harold and Maude, Being There, The Last Detail) as associated producer and editor, alongside second unit director Walter Hill (writer/director of many an 80s flick, as well as producer of all Alien movies). 6
tributary stu 