The Fall

Despite seeing around 400 films a year, every year there's the one or two cinematic experiences that take my breath away and that compel me to see all the others. How else could I say with certainty that The Fall is an unparallelled success, a phantasmagoric series of images that takes the viewer on a journey into their own inner space? Consciousness is one of the traits of The Fall, it's narrative seems to have a life of its own.
Superficially The Fall recalls the structure of The Princess Bride in that the main story is being told as a kind of bedtime story to a young child. Only for The Fall we experience events as seen by a child's eyes, not the eyes of an adult. For instance when the narrator says "Indian and squaw" he means the American WIld West, only the little girl sees exotic natives from India. The main set piece is a Los Angeles hospital room in 1915. The man lying on a bed is a silent movie stunt man injured while performing a fall in the film's magnificent opening sequence. The entire beginning sequence takes place in slow motion, in black-and-white, and to the accompaniment of Beethoven's Allegro movement from his Symphony No. 7 in A Major. Other films that have used this sublime music, perhaps Beethoven's most moving moment where strings vibrate as emotions in harmony, are the endings of Zardoz and Irreversible, as well as Immortal Beloved natch. If Beethoven could collect royalties on this song alone, he would chalk up another payment as the strains of Symphony No. 7 were also used in the recent HBO series John Adams.
That The Fall's director Tarsem would choose such a classic orchestral piece that already has a history of use in films, and then imbue that scene (that introduces the film) with such stupendous cinematic treatment - we're talking Ashes and Diamonds, Raiders of the Lost Ark, 'O Lucky Man, this sequence blew me away - means I have to return to everything the guy has ever done because he just climbed way, way up on my list of favorite directors. Since The Fall is only Tarsem's second feature that would include his rock video "Losing My Religion" and his debut from 2000 The Cell. Sometimes you see a film and think the opening means this is going to be one of the best films you've ever seen. Then you see the film unravel in the middle and end. Not so in The Fall: the events start to be tres bizarre, the twists take their lead from real situations, the locations become more exotic and your own search for meaning in the character's choices seem more profound.
The main character, a little girl oozes so much charm and inquisitiveness, coupled with grace and love, that she makes little miss sunshine look like a debauched debutante. Her new friend, the bed-ridden stunt guy, uses her to steal morphine from the pharmacy. She willingly complies because that's the only way he will continue to relate the fantastical story he warbles.
The story within the story has the actors in and around the hospital playing a band of travelers seeking to revenge themselves against a despotic ruler. They traverse across a mystical landscape that includes swimming elephants, faces that morph into desert terrain, whirling dervishes, names like the Labyrinth of Despair and Governor Odious.
Technically The Fall fires on all cylinders. When you aren't being wowed by the story, the costumes are distracting you from the amazing locations. Tarsem evidently spent much of his money making this film, spent years doing it and utilized the kind of inspiration that comes from visiting some of the world's most captivating regions. If you can recall 70s films like El Topo, a metaphysical western, or Red Sun, where an international cast treks through the desert, you come close to what's on view in The Fall, but only approximately. Truthfully, the best reason to see The Fall is because there's nothing like it.

Less is more

In the titles of the films Priceless and Flawless the suffix "less" actually indicates more. For Flawless, a diamond caper set in the early 60s the title suggests construction without fault. Priceless is the American title for a sometimes sly, sometimes warm 2006 French romantic comedy titled Hors de Prix or literally out of price. Hors d'oeuvre (out of work) always springs to mind when I see a title bearing that first word, which after all reminds of the popular slang for appetizers. Priceless, as the title suggest has a true romantic hook that recent films like 27 Dresses or Made of Honor can't snag.
Flawless is helmed by Michael Radford and stars Demi Moore and Michael Caine. Flawless takes a serious view of the economic and social influence of the diamond industry. Set in London the story unfolds with intelligent suspense. A retiring janitor (Michael Caine) joins forces with a glass ceiling diamond executive (Demi Moore) to pull off an almost impossible heist. Yet after the robbery about the midpoint, the film pulls a narrative twist and examines the actual implementation of the heist. The how and why of where the diamonds actually end up flares the tension level to greater heights in the final stretch. Caine and Moore hold the audience captive with their eloquent performances. Radford guides the plot through complex turns as if navigating a murky tunnel that leads to brilliant light. Even while immersed in the caper genre Flawless reveals a wealth of info regarding the way one company holds a monopoly over the diamond industry.
Flawless has a small distributor and is only at one theater but if this was a studio in-house film you would see plenty of media play. Basically I loved the film up to the last few minutes when an epilogue seemed to take the affair in a direction south.
Audrey Tautou has clout among movie goers because of Amelie and Da Vinci Code, movies that a lot of people saw and that established her as smart and sweet. But in Priceless Tautou gets to play a manipulative bitch and that's a good thing. The director, Pierre Salvadori has described Priceless as a re-imagining of Breakfast at Tiffany's. That's also a good thing considering the dated and unintentional racist aspects (Mickey Rooney as an Asian) of Tiffany's, which after all never stated that Holly Golightly (Audrey Hepburn) was a prostitute but rather portrayed her as a sort of trust fund socialite. The George Peppard/gigolo character is mirrored in Gad Elmaleh, an actor blessed with a Buster Keaton countenance that comes in handy when playing sad and mopey.
Tautou isn't exactly a call girl so much as a mistress to very rich men, and Elmaleh an employee at a posh hotel she frequents. After they tango one night she's long gone but his harmless stalker attitude won't let his emotions rest so he pursues her. When all of his money is spent after a couple of days of ritzy pleasure she once again ditches him but not before teaching him enough tricks of her trade to get himself in similar situations with wealthy vacationing femmes.
Priceless works best when Tautou and Elmaleh are slowly falling for one another, and there's good chemistry in their simmering competitiveness. The comic situations, as the title implies, can't be bought. Tautou gets to stare daggers and looks incredible throughout in designer clothes. From the theme music to the clever motif shots involving elevators and hotel rooms there's enough elan on display that Priceless could've been a Blake Edwards film in a previous life.