BFI Film Classics – serie

In this compelling study, Daisuke Miyao explores Jean-Pierre Melville's cult 1967 thriller Le Samouraï, a film that unfolds in a coolly stylised Paris where the paths of a contract killer, Jef Costello (Alain Delon), and the police commissaire pursuing him (François Périer) fatally intersect.Despite its title, Le Samouraï, is not a sword-clashing tale of feudal Japan. Rather, Miyao suggests that the film's philosophical framework draws on both existentialism and the samurai moral philosophy of bushido, or 'the way of the warrior', and considers how these philosophies may help explain Jef Costello's identity crisis and his concluding act of self-annihilation. In a close analysis of Melville's technical and aesthetic decisions, Miyao highlights the film's use of close-ups to convey or mask emotion, the play of light and shadow, and the function of flashbacks and dream sequences in the narrative, as well as the meanings of Costello's pet bullfinch.Setting Le Samouraï within the shifting landscape of post-war French cinema, Miyao traces its dialogue with Hollywood film noir and Japanese art cinema, particularly Kurosawa's Rashomon (1950), suggesting that both genres informed and influenced Melville's film-making.Finally, Miyao discusses the film’s enduring legacy, from Jim Jarmusch’s Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai (1999) to Yoko M.’s 2020 novella Jef, a prequel to the film.

James Naremore's study of Max Ophuls' classic 1948 melodrama, Letter from an Unknown Woman, not only pays tribute to Ophuls but also discusses the backgrounds and typical styles of the film’s many contributors--among them Viennese author Stephan Zweig, whose 1922 novella was the source of the picture; producer John Houseman, an ally of Ophuls who nevertheless made questionable changes to what Ophuls had shot; screenwriter Howard Koch; music composer Daniéle Amfitheatrof; designers Alexander Golitzen and Travis Banton; and leading actors Joan Fontaine and Louis Jourdan, whose performances were central to the film’s emotional effect. Naremore also traces the film's reception history, from its middling box office success and mixed early reviews, exploring why it has been a work of exceptional interest to subsequent generations of both aesthetic critics and feminist theorists. Lastly, Naremore provides an in-depth critical appreciation of the film, offering nuanced appreciation of specific details of mise-en-scene, camera movement, design, sound, and performances, integrating this close analyses into an overarching analysis of Letter’s “recognition plot;” a trope in which the recognition of a character’s identity creates dramatic intensity or crisis. Naremore argues that Letter's use of recognition is one of the most powerful in Hollywood cinema, and contrasts it with what we find in Zweig's novella.

A new kind of film emerged from Hollywood in the early 1940s, thrillers that derived their plots from the hard-boiled school of crime fiction but with a style all their own. Appearing in 1944, 'Double Indemnity 'was a key film in the definition of the genre that came to be known as film noir. Its script creates two unforgettable criminal characters: the cynically manipulative Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck) and the likeable but amoral Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray). Billy Wilder's brilliant direction enmeshes them in chiaroscuro patterns, the bright California sun throwing shadows of venetian blinds across dusty rooms, shafts of harsh lamplight cutting through the night. Richard Schickel traces in fascinating detail the genesis of the film: its literary origins in the crime fiction of the 1930s, the difficult relations between Wilder and his scriptwriter Raymond Chandler, the casting of a reluctant Fred MacMurray, the late decision to cut from the film the expensively shot final sequence of Neff's execution. This elegantly written account, copiously illustrated, confirms a new the status of 'Double Indemnity' as an undisputed classic.

John Ford's Stagecoach, starring John Wayne in the part that made him a star, remains the most famous Western ever made. Shedding new light on an old favourite, this is an enjoyable account of how the film got made, combined with a careful scene-by-scene analysis, a wealth of illustrations and the most complete credits yet assembled.

Alfred Hitchcock's Blackmail (1929) was the first major British sound film. Tom Ryall examines its unusual production history, and places it in the context of Hitchcock's other British films of the period. Is is, Ryall argues, both a considerable work of art in itself, and also one of the first to display those touches we now think of as typically Hitchcockian: a blonde heroine in jeopardy, a surprise killing, some brilliantly manipulated suspense, and a last-reel chase around a familiar public landmark (in this case, the British Museum). There's also a cameo appearance by the director himself, as a harassed traveller on the London Underground.

Greed is a legendary film begun in 1923. It was to have been Erich von Stroheim's masterwork, but his colossal ambitions were to be his undoing. His obsession with realistic detail and determination to extract every ounce of drama from his source, Frank Norris's novel McTeague, stretched the shooting schedule to inordinate lengths, resulting in a film which ran for over seven hours. Jonathan Rosenbaum has made a meticulous study of all the sources. In a fascinating piece of detective work, he reconstructs the history of one of cinema's greatest ruins.

Les Enfants du paradis, a magnificent picaresque saga of Parisian street life and popular culture, has been called the greatest film ever made. Completed during the Occupation, it nevertheless boasted the largest set ever to have been built in a French studio, a crowd of extras and, under the direction of Marcel Carné, some of the most accomplished technicians and actors available (including Arletty and Jean-Louis Barrault as the central couple doomed to remain apart).Jill Forbes examines how, at a time of crisis, the film reimagined the history of France. Although Les Enfants du paradis is escapist, even fantastic, Forbes finds in it a radical, counter-cultural sensibility concerned with destabilising social hierarchies and prescribed sexual roles and questioning the opposition between life and art. Vibrant, joyous but also touched by melancholy, the film combines the traditions of high culture and popular theatre to remarkable effect.

Wild Strawberries (1958) is probably Ingmar Bergman's most personal film and one which explores his relation to the history of Swedish cinema. Philip and Kersti French give a detailed account of Bergman's powerful and intense direction of the film. They set the film firmly in the context of Swedish life and culture. The authors also trace connections with the plays of August Strindberg, and the paintings of Edvard Munch and Carl Larsson.

Made in 1951, High Noon rapidly became one of the most celebrated and controversial Hollywood dramas of the post-war period. A grave, taut western about community and violence, High Noon collected a clutch of Oscars, helped to re-establish the dwindling fortunes of its star, Gary Cooper, and confirmed the stature of director Fred Zinnemann and producer Stanley Kramer. The film was also a flashpoint for the conflict between the US film industry and McCarthyite anti-communism: writer and associate producer Carl Foreman was hounded off the production and blacklisted. Phillip Drummond offers a detailed account of High Noon's troubled production context and its early public reception, along with career-summaries of the key participants. He analyzes the dramatic organization of the film with close reference to the original short story and Carl Foreman's script, and concludes with an invaluable overview of the long history of critical debates, focusing on questions of social identity and gender. The result is a fresh and nuanced reading of a major classic.Phillip Drummond is Lecturer in Film and Media Studies at the Institute of Education, University of London, UK.

This study provides a detailed account of the 1960s film, 'L'avventura', arguing that in order to appreciate its greatness it is necessary to understand not only that the film is a classic but also that it represents a revolution in cinema.

Released in 1984, "Once Upon a Time in America" was the final work of Sergio Leone, best known for Speghetti Westerns such as "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly". This "testament film" marries the director's flamboyant, expressionistic style to a story full of profound melancholy and regret. Tracing the lives of a gang of Jewish hoods from their childhood in the New York streets of the 1920s, "Once Upon a Time in America" centres on the relationship between Noodles (Robert de Niro) and Max (James Woods) - an intense friendship destroyed by time, the shifting tides of political history, and mutual betrayal. This study details the film's genesis, its production history and its different versions, and considers it within the context of Leone's evolution as a grand cinema stylist. It illuminates his themes, his method and his aesthetic, and judges his impact upon subsequent generations of filmmakers the world over. Adrian Martin is film critic for "The Age" (Australia). He has won the Bryon Kennedy Award (Australian Film Institute, 1993) and the 1997 Pascall Prize for Critical Writing.

Bonnie and Clyde (Arthur Penn, 1967) scandalised mainstream popular opinion. Part of an emerging youth and protest movement, its graphic and balletic violence was highly subversive in the context of the war in Vietnam. It spoke directly to younger audiences, who were already pitted against their more conservative elders and easily identified with the characters played by Warren Beatty (who also produced the film) and Faye Dunaway. Bonnie and Clyde was the prototype of 1970s ‘New Hollywood’: anti-authority, candid about sex, morally neutral. As well as changing Hollywood film style, Bonnie and Clyde changed critical attitudes. Older critics loathed the film at first. But younger critics, led by the then little-known Pauline Kael, fought a rearguard action and won the day. Recognising Bonnie and Clyde’s distinctive position in the evolution of American culture and cinema history, Lester D. Friedman explores the film’s cultural framework, examines the contributions of its creators and presents a detailed visual and thematic analysis.

David Cronenberg's Crash (1996) brought down a storm of controversy and opprobrium when it was first screened in London. And yet it's a cool, controlled, formal film, unsensational, more analytic than titillating, a brilliant exposé of modern pathologies. It has almost none of the violence and explicit sexual content of the J.G. Ballard novel from which it is adapted. What is the relationship between Ballard himself and the character 'James Ballard' in Crash?In this book, which includes an exclusive and revealing interview with Ballard, Sinclair explores the uncanny temporal loop which connects film and novel. If Cronenberg's 'adapted' Crash, he also absorbed it, ingested it, made it into something new. But, on the other hand, the novel controls the film, or uses the film to disguise its truly subversive intent. And, for Sinclair, there are more startling permutations still. To what extent, for example, is Crash a premonition of some of the more remarkable media events of recent times?

Otto Preminger said the history of the cinema was divided into two eras: one before and one after Rome Open City (Roma Città Aperta, 1945). The film is based on events that took place in Rome in 1944, during the Nazi occupation. This book re-examines the film and its place in Rossellini's career. David Forgacs reconstructs its production history, its relationship to the events that inspired it and the time in which it was made. He argues that the traditional critical labelling of Rome Open City as the original work of neo-realism fails to capture the film's hybrid and contradictory character. Part documentary record, part patriotic myth, Rome Open City is at once an extraordinarily powerful commemoration of wartime experience and a rhetorical reworking of that experience, using stereotypes and moral polarisations.

When it was released in 1995, Dead Man puzzled many audiences and critics. Jim Jarmusch’s reputation was for directing slick, hip contemporary films. And Dead Man was a black-and-white Western. As time has passed, though, the number of its admirers has grown rapidly. Indeed Dead Man, with its dark and unconventional treatment of violence, racism and capitalism, may be Jarmusch’s finest work to date.This is Jonathan Rosenbaum’s view. For him, Dead Man is both a quantum leap and a logical next step in Jarmusch’s career. Starring Johnny Depp as the uprooted accountant William Blake and Gary Farmer as his enigmatic Native American companion, Nobody, and with startling cameos from Robert Mitchum, John Hurt and Iggy Pop, Dead Man is by turns shocking, comic and deeply moving. This book explorers and celebrates a masterpiece of 1990s American cinema.

Red River (1947) is one of Howard Hawks' near-perfect films. A sweeping, fast-moving Western, it's stunningly shot and stars John Wayne and Montgomery Clift in complex roles set off by typically fine ensemble acting. In her study, Suzanne Liandrat-Guigues explores the thematic complexity of 'Red River' as well as its historical resonances and its place in film history. She focuses particular attention on the actors' contributions and on 'Red River''s relationship to other Hawks classics.

A quintessential work of 1960s European art cinema, L'Année dernière à Marienbad (Last Year in Marienbad, 1961) was a collaboration between director Alain Resnais and 'New Novel' enfant terrible Alain Robbe-Grillet. Three people, known only by their initials, move through the sprawling luxury of a mysterious hotel and its ornamental gardens. Perhaps M is A's husband and X her lover. Perhaps, 'last year', A promised X she would leave with him. Or is there something more terrible in the past? An abstract thriller, a love story, a philosophical puzzle, 'the film's deviations are', for Jean-Louis Leutrat, 'as complex as those of the human heart'.

This is an examination of "The Night of the Hunter", Charles Laughton's only outing as a film director. It looks at the symbolism of the piece, at Willa, her throat cut sitting in the Model-T Ford, and the Preacher, a silhouetted threat on the horizon.

Ivan The Terrible (1944/46) was envisaged by its director, Sergei Eisenstein as a trilogy. But, Eisenstein died before begining the third part. Part One had been a resounding success, winning a Stalin prize, but Part Two met with the Kremlin's disfavour and was eventually banned until 1958. Using research gathered from Soviet archives, Yuri Tsivian offers an insight into Eisenstein's grand project. He reconstructs the director's 'mental film' that underlies the finished work. The book attempts to follow the train of thought that connect the aesthetic construction and visual design of the film to Eisenstein's knowldege of iconography and painting, psychoanalysis and philosophy, Shakespeare and Balzac - and much more.

Shadows (1959), John Cassavetes' first film as director, ends with the title card — 'The film you have just seen was an improvisation'. Just before his death, however, Cassavetes confessed to Ray Carney something he had never before revealed — that much of his so-called 'masterpiece of improvisation' was actually written by him and Robert Alan Aurthur, a professional Hollywood screenwriter.In the ten years that followed Carney tracked down all of the surviving members of the cast and crew in order to piece together the true story of the making of Shadows. This book is the result of that research. Carney takes the reader behind the scenes to follow every step in the creation of the film — chronicling the hopes and dreams, the struggles and frustrations, and the ultimate triumph of their collaboration on one of the seminal masterworks of American independent film-making.

A heist thriller with a dazzling twist in the tail, this film 'The Usual Suspects' has seen its reputation grow until it is now a major cult movie. Ernest Larsen examines the film's sophistcated narrative structure and the new spin it puts on an old genre.

Richard Taylor asks to what extent the film can lay claim to 'authentic' history. He then examines 'October''s relationship to the politics of the period and explains the theory and its application, as well as placing 'October' in the wider context of Eisenstein's career.

In "To Be or Not to Be" (1942), Ernest Lubitsch brought his legendary comic touch to the most unpromising situation: life in Nazi-occupied Poland. In this study, Peter Barnes considers what it is to make comedy out of tragedy.

Stanley Kubrick died on 7 March 1999 at his Hertfordshire home, having finished the editing of his last film. Eyes Wide Shut was released later that year. Adapted from Arthur Schnitzler's 1926 Viennese novel Dream Story, relocated and updated to contemporary Manhattan, Eyes Wide Shut stars Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman as a prosperous couple whose marriage is tested in the aftermath a series of sinister events. The film baffled many of its first audiences. It had all the lavish attention to detail of a Kubrick film but it seemed slow, enigmatic, too much of a dream. Michel Chion's extraordinary study of Eyes Wide Shut makes the case that it is one of Kubrick's masterpieces and a fitting testament. To appreciate this, though, it is necessary to look at what happens on the screen without bringing preconceptions to bear. The film needs to be taken at face value. Looked at this way, Eyes Wide Shut reveals itself to be a deeply moving film about characters who are not so different from real people, a film about life in which questions of meaning and motive lose their value.

L.A. Confidential was released in 1997 to huge critical acclaim and it went on to be nominated for nine Academy Awards. Its reputation has since grown to the point that the film is now widely seen as a key Hollywood movie of the 1990s. But it fared poorly at the box-office, having neither big-name stars nor the sop of a comforting moral universe. With characters so bad they were irresistible, the film harked back to an older, darker Hollywood at a time when audiences would soon be flocking to 'Titanic'. Directed by Curtis Hanson from the best-selling novel by James Ellroy, 'L.A. Confidential' stars Kim Basinger alongside Kevin Spacey, Danny DeVito and, to the surprise of many industry watchers, two then relative unknowns, New Zealander Russell Crowe and Australian Guy Pearce. The film is a consummate thriller which takes in - without once losing sight of the human cost - police corruption, organized crime, the sleaze press, high-class prostitution, murder and the ways movies and life twist together. Manohla Dargis explores the careers of Hanson and Ellroy, based on interviews with both men, to dig deep into the film's obsession with the twinned, equally troubled histories of the Hollywood studio system and the city of Los Angeles. She untangles the paradox of 'L.A. Confidential', a film that paints a jet black, melancholy picture of a city and an industry even as it also testifies to - and exemplifies beautifully - their seductive glamour.

A Landmark in recent Indian cinema, by acclaimed director Mani Ratnam. In January 1993 sectarian rioting left 2,000 Hindus and Muslims dead in Bombay. Only two years later Mani Ratnam's audacious Tamil film Bombay (1995) used these events as a backdrop to a love story between a Hindu boy and a Muslim girl. Bombay was condemned by Muslim critics for misrepresentation and it was embroiled in censorship controversies. These served only to heighten interest and the film ran to packed houses in India and abroad. Lalitha Gopolan shows how Bombay struggles to find a narrative that can reconcile communal differences. She looks in detail at the way official censors tried to change the film under the influence of powerful figures in both the Muslim and the Hindu communities. In going on to analyse the aesthetics of Bombay, she shows how themes of social and gender difference are rendered through performance, choreography, song and cinematography. This is a fascinating account of a landmark in recent Indian cinema.

A window is thrown open and sudden light illuminates the face of Orson Welles. Harry Lime's return from the dead in "The Third Man" (1949), Carol Reed's unique thriller set in occupied Vienna, is one of the most famous scenes in all cinema. But there is more besides: the zither score, the tilted shots, the cuckoo-clock speech, the desperate manhunt in the city sewers. A British-American co-production overseen by Alexander Korda and David O. Selznick, "The Third Man" was written by Graham Greene, photographed by Robert Krasker and featured, along with Welles, Joseph Cotten, Alida Valli and Trevor Howard. All of the did superb work under Reed's subtle direction. After "The Third Man", Carol Reed was hailed as one of the world's great directors. This title sets out to understand what kind of artist Reed was and whether he deserved such accolades. Rob White explores how the film came to be made and seeks to explain its fascination.

Renoir's famous and controversial comedy of manners has a troubled history. Victor Perkins presents here a sensitive socio-historical study of Renoir's revised edition of the film, released 20 years after its premiere; shaped by the profundity and originality of its form.

This volume is a study of the classic western film 'Rio Bravo', which, according to the author, remains 'beyond politics, as an argument as to why we should all want to go on living'.