I’ve been fascinated by the Criterion Collection since roughly the early 2000s. I can’t put my finger on exactly how early I started paying attention to them but I can say I remember a time when there were less than 200 DVDs in the collection and that means I’ve been looking at that list of early titles for the better part of 25 years and I’ve particularly had a sort of fixation on the first 100 films that managed to get a spine number. These selections were in many ways just as random as any other section of the collection. I’m sure there were certain obvious titles like Seven Samurai or The 400 Blows or The Seventh Seal that they licensed quickly in order to make their brand clear but then there are other selections that seem to just be random quirks of licensing availability like “Fishing With John” or The Most Dangerous Game that seem to be borderline worthy of the collection at all. Anyway, through the sheer amount of time I’ve had I’ve actually seen most of the movies from this span of the collection but I never made a concerted effort to check them all off, in part because the film Salò, or The 120 Days of Sodom was sitting there at number 17 and I wasn’t just going to casually watch that thing to check it off a list. Well, I did finally get that out of the way earlier this year and that leaves me with just six movies left to watch to say I’ve seen the first 100 Criterion spines and I think I’m going to try to do that this month. Should be fun but I will note that there’s a reason I haven’t been rushing to see some of these so we’ll have to see if any of them are more to my taste than I expected.
Spine #38 Branded to Kill (1967)
Seijun Suzuki is a director I’ve long had trouble with. If you dig into my Letterboxd account you’ll find a one star review of his film Tokyo Drifter (which is Criterion spine #39, and is thus presented as a companion piece of this) and I have my doubts that I’d stand by that review if I watched it again, partly because I’m a much kinder grader these days and partly just because I’m more inclined to admire the audacity and filmmaking that someone like Suzuki brings to the table even if it doesn’t speak to me and that’s kind of where I am with this next film of his. In fact I’ve had a bit of a journey with this film as well. Way back when, when I was just getting into cinema I tried watching this because I liked the title and thought it had cool cover art on the OG Criterion DVD but I think I only made it about twenty minutes in before turning it off, baffled at what I was watching. That feels weird in retrospect, it’s certainly a weird movie but I’ve seen much weirder in the years since and I would have thought there was enough sex and violence here to keep me interested even if the storytelling was chaotic and the editing was kind of Godardian. In fact, understanding the wave of global “New Wave” filmmaking was going on in the late 60s is kind of essential to understanding this. The story, which is at its core just standard crime thriller hokum, is decidedly not the point. This is more about style, one could call it “pure cinema” and it’s become influential in various ways. The basic story (which, granted, is not the point) bears some clear similarities to David Fincher’s The Killer and that scene in Ghost Dog where someone gets shot through his sink pipes comes from this. So, I am more equipped to process this now but… I don’t know, I think I’m still kind of allergic to this director. The whole thing is just so chaotic and while it’s consistently “cool” I still like there to be a bit more of a backbone to the movies I watched so I’m glad that the best elements of this movie have been mined by other more conventional films that work better for me.
**1/2 out of Five
Spine #50 And the Ship Sails On (1983)
Long ago I’d been warned off of Federico Fellini’s late works with the rule of thumb that was handed down to me being that 1974’s Amarcord was sort of the end of his plateau and that it was mostly downhill from there. That being said one of the earliest Fellinis in the criterion collection by spine number is this film he made in 1983, well outside of the ostensible imperial phase and having finally seen it I’m starting to question the advice I was given or perhaps speculate that I over interpreted it back when I heard it because this has a lot going for it. The film is set on an ocean liner setting sail right on the eve of World War I and it’s kind of meant to look at the decadence and frivolity of the bourgeois classes of the per-war era. The film feels a bit aimless in its opening sections (which probably could have used some cuts) but the film comes to life in its second half once the ocean liner is forced to rescue a bunch of Balkan refugees from a shipwreck, much to the disgust of the rich people on board who think that sailing with these people is beneath them. That starts a neat conflict but this isn’t necessarily some Marxist tract about class conflict and is instead more of an almost nostalgic elegy to a more innocent time (albeit on with its blind spots) and this reminded me a lot of Wes Anderson’s The Grand Budapest Hotel to the point where I suspect it was a direct influence. For that matter the visuals here, which involve a lot of elaborate and knowingly sets and costumes and hair stylings also give me pretty big Wes Anderson vibes, that sense of colorful whimsy is definitely there. So by the end of the film I was pretty into it but that slow first half does weigh it down for me a bit and I can also see why this maybe felt a bit out of place coming out in the year of our lord nineteen eighty three and might have felt a bit like Fellini almost doing a pastiche of his circus-like style, but on the other hand maybe he was just being taken for granted, not unlike the aforementioned Wes Anderson is today.
***1/2 out of Five
Spine #71 The Magic Flute (1975)
Ingmar Bergman was a very prolific filmmaker with something like forty films under his belt which you’d think would keep him awfully busy but he actually had a whole other career working as a stage director around Sweden. Those two careers finally collided late into Bergman’s film career when he opted to make a film out of a production of Mozart’s opera “The Magic Flute.” This is kind of a tricky film to categorize because it’s essentially a filmed version of a stage production but I don’t think the production in question was ever actually performed in front of an audience and that this was actually all staged for the camera even though everything that’s artificial about the theater is front and center. The sets are clearly matte painting type things and there aren’t any “VFX” here (one of the first things we see is an attack by a dragon, which looks like a dude in a mascot suit) but the staging clearly choreographed with the camera in mind and we get a full array of close-ups and whatnot which can only be captured if you are unconcerned with getting A/V equipment in the way of an audience. So this kind of is and isn’t a different beast from, say, the kinds of “pro-shoots” you see of Broadway productions and the like. The production here in general seems pretty charming but it should be noted that “The Magic Flute” itself is kind of famously a lighthearted and kind of silly opera bolstered by music by an over-qualified composer and I can’t say I got particularly wrapped up in the storytelling here. I’m also not going to say I’m terribly qualified to assess the skills of the various performers here, to be frank opera singing all kind of sounds the same to me. So this movie was probably never really going to be “my jam” but if you are into opera the filmmaking here is quite well done and I can see why this might be something of a gold standard for how to film a stage production.
*** out of Five
Spine #77 And God Created Woman (1956)
Many years ago, before there was a Criterion Channel and even before there was a FilmStruck, the Criterion Collection tested the streaming waters by licensing some of Janus’ movies out to a sub-channel on the then fairly new streaming service Hulu. Notably at that time you could sort movies on that service by different criteria like alphabetical sorting or sorting by run time and most notably sorting by popularity. I remember this because when I sorted Hulu’s Criterion movies by popularity the number one movie was not one of the stalwarts like Seven Samurai or The Seventh Seal, no, it was Roger Vadim’s And God Created Woman. Why? Almost certainly because the thumbnail had a naked woman on it. I don’t remember the number two movie when ranked by popularity but it appeared to be popular for similar reasons. But in many ways this is appropriate because despite whatever artistic merits the film had it likely became famous in the first place because of a salacious title and advertising campaign. This is a movie that would have been considered very sexually open and salacious, probably even within European cinema, when it came out back in 1956 but there are still certainly limits to how much skin is in this (likely to the disappointment of many a Hulu user in the late 2000s.) The film opens with a scene of Bridget Bardot tanning nude in the sun but you only see her from the side and the film uses angles and strategically placed objects throughout to avoid ever entirely showing you the most explicit of body parts. Still, the sexuality baked into this story (about an eighteen year old orphan getting into a strange love triangle with two brothers) is daring unto itself and it especially brought to life by problematic fave Brigitte Bardot, who was married to Vadim at the time, and this movie was her big breakout as an international sex symbol and really pops from the screen whenever she’s on it here. Vadim also brings some style to the proceeding, shooting the film in Technicolor widescreen, which was probably a slightly unconventional choice for this type of movie during this era and that brings a degree of professionalism and legitimacy to the whole thing. Vadim would divorce Bardot shortly after the release of this film and eventually married Jane Fonda and made Barbarella with her which suggests that this guy had quite the aptitude for wooing iconic women who are out of his league and a unique interest in, uh, displaying them to the world. He’s definitely not one of the greatest talents of the golden age of world cinema but he’s an interesting enough side figure of the era and this movie holds a similar status; something worth knowing about but probably not one of the greats itself.
***1/2 out of Five
Spine #81 Variety Lights (1951)
In 1963 Federico Fellini released what many feel to be his magnum opus: the unusually titled 8½. That title referred to the number of films that Fellini had made up to that point and that total included a “half film” in part because of this movie, Fellini’s feature debut but one that he co-directed in collaboration with another filmmaker named Alberto Lattuada. Lattuada is much less famous than Fellini but is he’s still a respected director with some classics like Mafioso under his belt. It’s not known exactly how the two divided work on this film but at the end of the day it’s generally viewed more as the beginning of Fellini’s career and I’m probably better equipped to view it in that context without thinking too much about Lattuada, and the film definitely feels of a piece with Fellini’s work rather than some exception diluted by some other guy’s contributions. The film is set in the world of Italian vaudeville and in some ways feels like a bit of a precursor to the circus troupe we see in La Strada, but these characters are given a much less interesting or dramatic plotline. In a lot of ways this is kind of like one of those “backstage musicals” from the early sound era, but obviously this isn’t a musical and while you do occasionally see the vaudeville style acts they aren’t really meant to be a particular source of entertainment here. If Fellini hadn’t gone on to be a major artist later on I have my doubts this movie would be particularly widely seen today but that shouldn’t be too much of an insult because it’s still a decent little movie for what it is and was as good of a place for the guy to start as anything.
*** out of Five
Spine #92 A Fiend Without a Face
Criterion has always taken it as something of a mission to represent a large variety of genres and film types, which often leads to some kind of unexpected choices that baffle people who’ve reduced the collection to a certain kind of arthouse cinema. Right now we’re seeing some bafflement at their decision to release a physical version of K-Pop Demon Hunters but they’ve always been doing stuff like this going back to their infamous decision to put out Armageddon on DVD. This instinct does not, however, always involve huge budget Hollywood blockbusters like that and it sometimes leads to even more baffling choices, such as the decision to make one of their earliest DVD releases this cheesy science fiction film about sentient brains trying to kill people. This was one of those unofficially paired releases the company sometimes does alongside spine number 91, which is the much more famous 1958 produced sci-fi/horror B-movie The Blob. In reality the (future) Criterion release this has more in common with is their “Monsters and Madmen” boxed set (spine 364), which is a collection of four films also produced by Richard and/or Alex Gordon and in retrospect they might have been better off saving this for that. The film itself is a functional enough B-movie with a lot of the strengths and weaknesses of the form. It’s an unpretentious production with some fairly stock actors and cheap sets but it notably some kind of interesting (if low budget) visual effects involving stop motion brains (some of them with spinal cords) killing people and that’s kind of neat. Does the movie belong in the Criterion Collection? Probably not by my metrics, and I’m not sure I’ve gotten much else from the Godons’ movies either and I’m not sure how much of a renaissance these releases provided for those guys either, so maybe this is just kind of a quirk of one of their programers’ taste, who knows. Regardless, if you set aside the Criterion baggage this movie is mostly fine for what it is and I’m okay with it.
**1/2 out of Five
In Conclusion
So, I’ve finally crossed off all of the first 100 Criterion spines (including that weird Beastie Boys music video anthology, which I watched all of via Youtube). Did I learn anything from this? No, not really. Ultimately it was just kind of an excuse to watch a grab bag of movies whose titles have been nagging at me for a while and which I wanted an excuse to cross off. There was definitely some decent stuff here though nothing too revelatory, there are reasons I’d avoided most of them and I can’t say they defied my expectations too much. And the Ship Sails On… was probably my favorite of the bunch, that definitely clashed with its reputation as second rate Fellini and it did make me a bit more curious to check out some of that guy’s later work, most of the rest of the movie were kind of just what I expected. I don’t plan on following this up with further explorations of Criterion spine number sets, firstly because there aren’t any other stretches with this few to cross off and secondly just because nothing else in the collection has gnawed at me as much over the years. This was fun for the most part though.














