After a hearty lunch and a hefty batch of Sunday papers, there's nothing better than sitting down to a good old socio-political drama, right? Unionism, sectarianism, communism... is there a better way to relax at the week's end? This week's Hidden Treasures won't relax you, but they will hopefully intrigue you.
BLUE COLLAR (1978) - PAUL SCHRADER
Having made a name for himself writing scripts for Taxi Driver, Sydney Pollack's The Yakuza and Brian De Palma's Obsession, Blue Collar was Paul Schrader's directorial debut in 1978, co-adapted by Paul and his brother Leonard. Since release, Schrader has disowned the film. I opine that it's his strongest. Harvey Keitel, Yaphet Kotto and Richard Pryor play three average-Joe, working-class Detroit auto workers, and if you think you wouldn't possibly like a film with such a drab set-up, you'd probably be wrong. A robbery committed by the trio on their own union could have been the focus of a less challenging film, but Schrader takes the riskier, more provocative route, and wrangles out a study of friendship defined and then disrupted by class, wealth and politics. The juice is in the passion with which Schrader depicts the separate paths taken by his leads, and how much validity his trust bestows upon each of their personal causes. A tough film about tough times, with superb performances from Keitel, Kotto and Pryor.
More after the cut.
HIDDEN AGENDA (1990) - KEN LOACH
When a figure of such repute as Ken Loach can find such fault with the actions of his own nation that he advocates against them, you might expect people to take notice. It's either a sign of how rarely people turn to art when at war, even when it could be of benefit to them, or how little clout the cinema has in Northern Ireland that I, a resident of Belfast most of my life since my birth in the same year that Hidden Agenda was released, was unaware of it until I saw it just a few years ago. By its end, Loach's anger, presented in even stronger terms than usual, has become frustration, and no matter what came to pass seven years later in the province, I can certainly empathise. Brian Cox and Frances McDormand, both excellent, are not in some developing nation, tucked away in Eastern Europe or Africa - they're in the UK, one of the world's leading powers, where the need for change is far greater than the desire, and where the authority of those at the top of the system is so approved by its supporters both at home and abroad that it's understandable that Loach appears to feel that nothing can be done. And not only empathise, I can attest to the accuracy of Loach's portrait of this small batch of six counties, which Britain neither wants nor doesn't want. They've left it to rot, and I can't blame them.
THE LOST HONOUR OF KATHARINA BLUM (1975) - VOLKER SCHLONDORFF AND MARGARETHE VON TROTTA
The levity that Volker Schlondorff and Margarethe von Trotta (I'm thinking more Schlondorff) bring to such a potentially dry, run-of-the-mill commie-paranoia drama is what enables it to appeal to a broader audience than it has reached to date, close to 38 years after it opened in West Germany. But it's also what gives it its peculiar character, a detached liveliness, like Schlondorff and von Trotta are two naughty children, throwing eggs at these hapless characters. This is that same frustration expressed by Ken Loach, but with a wry smirk, effectively taking the piss out of both the communist terrorists and their capitalist pursuers. In the frame of '70s German cinema, The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum is like a less lofty, more spirited Fassbinder, and Jost Vacano's photography is marvellous with its faded neons and shadowy greys, ever observing through figures and screens and panes.
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