Red Desert (1964) - Directed by Michaelangelo Antonioni

Were it not for Michaelangelo Antonioni’s early 1960’s output, he would probably make my all-time top 5 most overrated directors. As it is, he is saved from such a fate through a string of 4 films that all examine the same thing: spiritual, emotional, and relational alienation. His “alienation” trilogy of L’Avventura (1960), La Notte (1961) and L’Ecclise (1962) introduced his major themes of concern and his major muse, Monica Vitti. We tend not to include Red Desert in this grouping, but we might as well have, and called it a "quadrilogy" of sorts. In fact, I would argue that Red Desert is the culmination of the themes that he was exploring and the highest form of visual and thematic expression that he would ever achieve. In his following movies, Blow-Up (1966), Zabriskie Point (1970), The Passenger (1975), he began a decline stemming from a self-indulgent pretense that bordered on near self-parody. Can I blame him though? Where can one go after Red Desert?

Red Desert is unabashedly a pretentious film at heart, but this is not unlike many great works of art. Monica Vitti stars as Giuliana, mother of a young boy and wife of Ugo (Carlo Chionetti) who runs a huge, industrial plant, of which I’m not sure what it produces or refines, but it’s a network of steam release valves, rusted silos, and produces all kinds of waste that, along with the rest of the nearby industrial jungle, pollutes the water and air in abundance. Antonioni shot the film in northern Italy in and amongst real industrial power plants. These are real places, but they don't feel like it. They feel otherworldly. Adding to this odd dimension is the soundtrack that reminds me of the kind of blips and drones that might as well have come from the sci-fi film The Forbidden Planet (1956). But, Antonioni clearly wants us to recognize the tortured and pained reality of this world, even though green grass looks out of place in the polluted landscape.

Giuliana, we are told, had a car accident one month prior, and her husband feels that she is still in some state of shock, as he confides to fellow plant supervisor Corrado (Richard Harris). In fact, she is. We are introduced to her as she walks with her son across the wasteland around the factory. She strangely pays a man for a half-eaten sandwich, and we immediately realize that she is not right. While visiting her husband’s plant, she meets Corrado, and they soon develop a strange affair. It doesn’t involve sex at first. Rather the extent of their relationship involves confiding to each other what is eating at their souls. She opens up to Corrado and admits that in the hospital she became lost, losing touch with herself and has been unable to retrieve her soul from the proverbial abyss. Corrado is less estranged from humanity, but is fearful of the world and cannot remain still, prodded to transience. Red Desert examines their soulless existence with urgency and remorse. She cannot fathom loving anyone, nor anyone loving her. She wants to connect, but lacks the spiritual and emotional center she needs to do so. When later in the film Giuliana goes over the edge due to her son’s faking a major illness, she and Corrado are thrown together in the most dispassionate of ways in a feigned attempt at comfort.

This was Antonioni’s first film in color. Red Desert is filled with a near continual barrage of striking images, often with primary colors contrasting with bleak grays and browns. It's one of the most visually expressive films ever made. Nearly any shot could make a striking photograph or painting, something which has been noted by many. Additionally, notice the way that fog insists on being both part of the imagery and part of the enveloping malaise and disconnectedness of the characters. In fact, this is a film where the imagery and thematic/psychological elements parallel each other directly. Much like Anthony Mann’s westerns, like The Naked Spur (1953), or Kurosawa’s Dodes’ka-den (1970), Red Desert uses the environment to deeply reflect and ultimately enhance the psychosis of the characters within that environment. Red Desert’s industrial and toxic wasteland is Antonioni's fully realized metaphor for the polluted and alienated modern soul. This for me is what elevates Red Desert above all of Antonioni’s films. Although L’Avventura and others cover the same ground (poetically in fact), it appears to me that Antonioni reached his zenith of expression in Red Desert and laid down his manifesto.

This Sporting Life - (1963) Directed by Lindsay Anderson

One of the lesser-discussed periods in cinema is the British New Wave, also known as the "Angry Young Men" films that came out of England from about 1959 to 1963. These were films where the central figure was generally a working-class guy, restless and disenchanted with life. Most of the directors working within this realm were trying to break loose from British conservatism in the arts, and produce socially realistic portaits of individuals. This Sporting Life is arguably the best film that came out of this period. I just recently saw it for the first time and was impressed by how good it was. It's the story of Frank (Richard Harris), who rents a room and has a relationship with a recent widow Margaret (Rachel Roberts) and her two children. Frank, who's a coal miner, tries out for the city Rugby team and turns into a local sports hero, setting the conflicts in motion for the rest of the film as he tries to remain true to the widow and children he lives with.

Lindsay Anderson's compositions emphasize the gritty urban environment where factories, bars and a hazy, gray suburban life unfolds. His fluid and uncanny use of flashbacks add punch to the story. Too often flashbacks are used as a cinematic crutch, either to keep information from the audience to build suspense or to just be gimmicky. Flashbacks in this film are basically the conscious/subconscious memories of Harris' character and they are interwoven effectively. I would submit this film as an example of how flashbacks can be used to enhance storytelling when used judiciously.

Although sports are a theme here, it's not really a "sports film", like Rocky or Hoosiers. It doesn't have that triumphant, redemptive feel in any way. I would say the film focuses more on Frank's mental struggles in his personal life rather than his confrontations on the pitch. He's clumsy, inconsiderate, yet incredibly loyal even to a fault. I was totally caught off guard by the potency of the script and the fiery performances by the two leads. Richard Harris (almost Brando-esque) and Rachel Roberts were both nominated for Academy Awards and their performances hold up well today. Harris plays Frank with a blend of toughness, cockiness and self-consciousness. Roberts brings the right mix of vulnerability and intensity to her part. Class struggle comes to the fore as Frank begins to rake in the cash from his rugby contract while still living with the poor widow. Several scenes ring true as Margaret becomes uncomfortable with Frank's new lifestyle. I was impressed by the chemistry between the leads. Bottom line is this is great storytelling and brought vividly to the screen by Anderson.

Lindsay Anderson went on to great acclaim in 1968 with If, a film that won the Palme d'Or at Cannes. If comes across to me as very dated and overrated now. He's much more successful here. Sometimes movies come out of nowhere and surprise me. This is one of those. After watching This Sporting Life, it makes me want to go back and revisit some of the other "Angry Young Men" films like The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner (1962) with Tom Courtenay and Saturday Night and Sunday Morning (1960), starring a young Albert Finney. I think I overlooked these movies on first viewing and want to try them out again. I'll let you know if I can recommend them as highly as this one.