I'm posting this so late that the title barely makes sense anymore. So late that it unfortunately comes at a time when I'm compelled to pay respects to the memory of the great David Bordwell. The banner image, from Moonrise Kingdom, is the image on the cover of Film Art: An Introduction, his book with Kristin Thompson.
For a long time, Bordwell and Thompson have struck me as having the most productive, informative, and personally edifying approach to closely viewing and discussing films. It's an approach I often fear I don't live up to. The rigor and knowledge they bring to the table seems vastly greater than almost anyone else's, and is certainly greater than my own.
At least, I've tried to avoid making far-fetched or baseless claims about films while still emphasizing why they are important, and the potential profundity of experience they offer. My desire to strike this balance comes mainly from Bordwell and Thompson's influence. Bordwell deserves to be remembered in the highest regard, and I hope Thompson is doing well.
Casablanca (1942)
The film has a broad pop humanism that works with how it pieces its setting together, emphasizing city's density and diversity. Emotions spill over from behind the characters' guardedness in expressionistic shadows, like a more subdued Sternberg. This film is often held up as one of the greatest examples of classical Hollywood narrative structure; I think it should also be seen as a master class in mood setting.
Still, it took me a while to really attach to this film, maybe because of its broadness. Even the best example of Hollywood's most important tendencies may have its edge dulled simply because it resembles so many other movies. But as Bordwell noted, the classical norms are more like a restaurant menu than a set of laws, and they have a great deal of thematic flexibility. On this most recent watch, I had a greater appreciation for the political situation depicted in the film.
Many of the people who come to Rick's cafe are refugees. The close-up of Yvonne when Laszlo gets everyone in the cafe to sing "La Marseillaise" makes something specific out of the film's broadness. She's an average person, but one with a disrupted life and unclear future. It shows that even if she's not a political actor, she has the dignity of standing up for herself in this small, brief way. This is a key example of what Bordwell was talking about. It arises from the classical Hollywood primacy of character psychology, the crescendos and diminuendos of the act structure, technique which is highly designed but gives the impression of verisimilitude, and the overlapping of multiple plotlines to develop the characters.
Fiddler on the Roof (1971)
I rewatched this because Salesman had me thinking about it. A few weeks later I saw a stage production of it. The film really doesn't change anything from the stage play, but I think the emotional and thematic cores are strengthened by some of the film's uniquely cinematic elements. During "If I Were a Rich Man," the film cuts to a close-up of Tevye when he sings about discussing the holy books with the learned men. Also, in the stage version, Tevye's speeches addressed to God come across as directed to the audience; in the film, these moments feel a little more private to Tevye. The result is that Tevye's religiosity is more pronounced in the film.
The moments between his daughters and their husbands-to-be also come across as more private, both due to how the film portrays them and due to the difference in performance style between the stage and the screen. It deepens our sense of their inner lives, despite nothing about the script being changed to give them more to say.
Salesman (1969)
I found it interesting that one of the salesmen is always humming "If I Were a Rich Man" from Fiddler on the Roof in his car. The salesmen in this film are all Bible salesmen who market fancy Bibles and biblical encyclopedias to Catholic families. The customers they speak to often feel they can't pay, and the film captures their frustration when they see how beautiful the Bibles are. The salesmen themselves, though they receive speeches from doctors of theology and claim to their customers that they come from the church, mainly speak about their own productiveness and success. Doubtless this is what the salesman is thinking about when he hums "If I Were a Rich Man." But there's an irony in it: that song is not simply about longing for success, but about Tevye's desire for more time to "sit at the synagogue and pray" or "discuss the Holy Books with the learned men." It's an interesting coincidence that it ends up in this film, and it highlights something perverse about this film's events.
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