Lost in Criterion

We fell in love with Aki Kaurismäki when we first watched Le Havre (2011, Spine 619), and are very excited to talk about the original film in which André Wilms plays Marcel Marx, another tale of immigrant rights but this one an ode to a Paris that no longer exists, a bohemian lifestyle that is increasingly impossible under capitalism. Oh and speaking of being an artist under capitalism, we also talk about Martin Scorsese's recent announcement that he's using AI for storyboarding, a thing he is obviously not actually doing so I hope the money is worth it.

Stanley Kramer's It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963) is a very fun movie and an overstuffed Criterion release. But perhaps a comedy of such epic proportions (and aspect ratios) needs an epically sized release.

Having finished the World Cinema boxset, we had resigned ourselves that we would have to go back to doing some acrobatics to read Marxism into the films for awhile again, but little did we expect that Michael Mann's Thief (1981) isn't just a stylish heist film but is also (and moreso) a rumination on the exploitation of labor and rent seeking. There's power in a union, but there's also apparently power in burning everything down just to show your boss who has control.

The first World Cinema Boxset draws to a close with Kim Ki-young's The Housemaid (1960), a film whose influence you can clearly see in many modern South Korean directors' work, from Bong Joon-ho to Park Chan-wook. A sort of domestic horror film punctuated with a moral message ending that left us floored for the audacity of its presentation, The Housemaid is maybe the best movie in a boxset of bangers, a thing I think I've said about each film in the set at this point.

We also take some time to reflect on the set as a whole, its weird collection of sponsors, and how we very much want more of this from Criterion.

This week the World Cinema Project boxset changes pace a bit with Trances, Ahmed El Maanouni's 1981 documentary on Moroccan avant-garde band Nass El Ghiwane. But it doesn't change pace too much, as this Nass El Ghiwane's music is firmly anti-colonial and the band members' interviews deliver overt Marxist messaging in much the same way as the previous four films of the set have been.