November will mark the tenth anniversary of acclaimed French director Louis Malle’s death. Although his roots were in the French New Wave, Malle made pictures in America, Britain and India during his 40-year career in film.

Malle has collaborated with popular international stars such as Marcello Mastroiani, Jeremy Irons, Julliette Binoche, Burt Lancaster and Susan Sarandon, among others. His impressive resume also includes work with screenwriters David Hare and Jean-Claude Carierre. In addition, his recurring use of jazz scores features artists from Miles Davis to Joshua Redman.

This summer, several new prints of Malle films toured the States, and cities such as New York were treated to retrospectives of his career. All of this was in anticipation of a slew of upcoming DVD releases of some of Malle’s most crucial work and some of his lesser-seen films.

A DVD of Malle’s debut film, Elevator to the Gallows (1956), will soon be released. The film was revived and screened during the summer, tauted as a film noir masterpiece.

Unfortunately, Malle’s early New Wave works have not aged well, and feel hollow and derivative. This is true of both Elevator to the Gallows and The Fire Within (1963), the latter telling the story of a suicidal writer. Despite being disappointing, both films feature strong performances by Jeanne Moreau.

One of the exciting releases will be the rediscovered Phantom India (1969), Malle’s little-known but breathtaking three-part documentary about India. Clocking in at over six hours, Phantom India is rumored to be seeing the light of day on a deluxe Criterion Collection DVD in the new year.

Another film to be offered on DVD by Criterion is Malle’s lasting masterpiece, Au Revoir Les Enfants (1987). The film is based on his childhood spent growing up in a Catholic school during the Second World War. It deals with the story of a young boy who witnesses the atrocities of the Holocaust, as Jewish children are persecuted before his eyes.

Malle’s memories of the Nazi influence also formed his excellent 1974 film Lacombe, Lucien. The film chronicles a rough country boy who joins the Gestapo for the power.

He abuses his position to manipulate the family of an attractive Jewish girl. His portrayal of Lacombe’s brutality is harrowing, and the film’s handling of the French corruption caused a controversy that led Malle to leave for America.

Some of Malle’s finest films were made in America; two key pictures, My Dinner with Andre (1981) and Vanya on 42nd Street (1994), are among the greatest films he produced. Both are indispensable for fans of Wallace Shawn, who appears as himself in My Dinner with Andre and as Uncle Vanya in Vanya on 42nd Street.

My Dinner with Andre is a dramatic conversation between noted theatrical director Andre Gregory and Shawn, who fundamentally disagree on their views of life. The conversation is fascinating and highly entertaining, as the two compare their vastly different experiences and opinions.

Vanya on 42nd Street was Malle’s last film and is one of his most interesting. The film is a screen adaptation of Andre Gregory’s celebrated 1992 modern dress stage version of Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya. Malle’s intriguing film self-consciously follows a rehearsal of the play, showing the relationships between the actors, as well as offering an intimate film version of the play.

The film cinematically removes the distance between the stage and the audience, but gives the viewer space to examine the relationship between the production and the text.

However, not all of Malle’s films warrant investigation. Despite a brilliant cast, the torrid Damage (1992) is cliché-driven and embarrassing to watch at times. The bland Pretty Baby (1978) is another film that falls short of expectations, despite the cinematography of Sven Nyviskt’s and the casting of Keith Carradine.

Malle retrospectives are continuing across the country, with Detroit and Columbus among the cities awaiting the new prints. Many of these new prints are exquisite, so if you can, take the chance to see some of Malle’s great films on the big screen in the upcoming months. If not, the DVD releases coming next year are worth looking forward to.

–Oliver William Pattenden

---

New DVDs excite even old Roeg viewers again

Last week the Criterion Collection released onto DVD perhaps the two greatest films in Nicolas Roeg’s oeuvre, The Man Who Fell to Earth (1976) and Bad Timing (1980) — the smarmy Mark Gallagher’s favorite, Performance (1970), notwithstanding. As always, Criterion delivers a topnotch presentation of two classic and important films.

The Man Who Fell to Earth

Film:

David Bowie. The Thin White Duke whose sad eyes tell us we only have five years...The Man Who Fell to Earth. The film itself is a brilliant meditation on alienation in our modern society, starring Bowie as an alien on a rescue mission who quickly falls victim to follies that are all too human.

This goes from alcoholism to sex to trusting one’s friends. Firmly grounded in the 1970s, The Man Who Fell to Earth may appear dated to some and overlong to others. If you want your sci-fi full of flashy nonsense and third-rate hokum, then I suggest you check out the new Joss Whedon film, Serenity.

You know who you are, you’re the same sorry lightweights who lined up to see March of the Penguins at the Apollo this week. True cineastes, however, are urged to check out The Man Who Fell to Earth.

Audio/Visual:

With Criterion’s reputation, anything less than an absolutely pristine presentation would cause riots in the streets, and, as usual, Criterion delivers in spades. The 2.33:1 transfer has a mouthwatering bitrate of 6.96 mb/s and the original Mono 1.0 audio track has been brilliantly preserved.

The Extras:

Go down to the Oberlin Public Library and pick up the Fox Lorber DVD of The Man Who Fell to Earth and check out the extras. Wait, that’s right, it doesn’t have any. Criterion, however, has put together an incredible two-disc set including absurdly detailed galleries, several new interviews with those who worked on the film, Candy Clark and Rip Torn interviews, a Roeg/Bowie/Buck Henry commentary track, a reprint of Walter Tevis’ original 160 page novel and packaging that makes it look less like a DVD and more like a work of art.

This is well worth shelling out the $39.95 list price (or more like $23-28 depending on what e-tailer you use), even if you have to rob somebody in Tappan Square to get the cash.

Bad Timing

Film:

Have you ever criticized a film for being too coherent? For having too few tracheotomies crosscut with sexual activity? For not having enough full-frontal Art Garfunkel nudity? Then perhaps Roeg’s Bad Timing (a.k.a. Bad Timing — A Sensual Obsession) is the film for you. Notably dropped by its producer back in 1980 (the Rank organization), it was described by studio heads as “a sick film made by sick people for sick people.” And I forgot to mention that it costars Denholm Elliott and Harvey Keitel. By now you can probably already tell if this is your kind of film or not.

Audio/Visual:

Criterion presents the 2.31:1 film in a fantastic film-like transfer at an average bitrate of (gasp) 5.62 mb/s. You don’t have to be a genius to realize that this disc has an absurdly low bitrate.

The Extras:

As a lower-tier Criterion ($29.95, or $18-21 depending on the e-tailer), this is not as packed with extras as The Man Who Fell to Earth. Still, we should be damned grateful we’ve received this long-suppressed film at all. Extras include interviews with Roeg and producer Jeremy Thomas, an interview with star Theresa Russell, deleted scenes, liner notes from Richard Combs, a reprint of a Garfunkel interview and several stills galleries. A must-own for both perverts and Roeg fans.

–Sean Gill