(3/28/01-4/8/01)
The Round-Up is a very impressive-looking film. It is in black-and-white with beautiful camera work. The film looks choreographed, like a spectacle or pageants. The shots are composed with a lot of thought. Frequently, there is something going on in both the foreground and background.
The action takes place around a military compound or prison which is set in the middle of nowhere on a barren plain. It is like it is removed from an environment, of something that would give it a context. I saw this done once before in a Jancso film and I liked it very much. It seems to lend a quality of myth or legend to the events.
The story is about a man who was a resistance fighter and is accused of killing as part of his resistance activities. He is told that he will be released if he can find someone else in the compound or camp who has killed more people than him. The film mostly concerns his attempts to find someone to take his place. In the end he does, but is then himself killed by the other inmates.
The thing that made the biggest impression on me was that the soldiers or guards were not portrayed as sadistic brutes. They were cool and businesslike. They had a job to do.
One notable and recurrent image was of the prisoners filing by with hoods on their heads. Perhaps I noticed this because I have seen a still of this image reproduced several times. At least I think I have seen it more than once.
There is a scene in which a young woman is forced to run nude between two rows of soldiers who whip her. She dies from this whipping. Is this an exploitive moment--throwing something sexy, albeit perversely sexy, into an otherwise stark film? I don't know, really, but the nudity emphasized her vulnerability and the cruelty of the act.
The film becomes almost surreal towards the end. I think there was a scene of a martial band playing while agroup of prisoners is standing around waiting to be executed. (My memory of this picture has already faded.) All in the middle of the deserted plain.
The ending is cruel and downrigt nasty. Some of the prisoners are led to believe that they will be allowed to join the army that has imprisoned them. One is asked about his experience and he says he has been in the cavalry. He is invited to pick some men to join him and then is allowed to show off his riding skills.
They are told that their leader Kossuth has been granted a full pardon by the emperor. They are jubilant and sing a song of nationalism or solidarity. But then they are informed that while Kossuth was pardoned, his followers will be punished. At that, I believe, they are herded off to execution and the film ends. It reminded me of a similar event in The Outlaw Josey Wales.
I think that that ending lost some of its impact for me because the last scenes of the film were so strange that I was wondering what was going on. Putting these guys on horses and whatever seemed fishy and gave me a strong sense that all was not what it appeared to be. So maybe, even if unconsciously, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Sweet Sweetback's Badasssss Song. 1971. Directed by Melvin Van Peebles.
(3/17/01)
A lot of this film is just shots of a man running and being chased. It just went on and on and got tiresome. It seemed like the film ran out of imagination.
The "hero" of the film is Sweetback. He is a performer in a sort of private sex-show who kills a couple of cops who are mercilessly beating another black man. He is pursued, but never caught. By his wits he escapes across the border into Mexico and the film promises that he will return, seeking revenge.
Sweetback isn't that interesting. He doesn't say very much and doesn't project much personality. He was definitely interesting as a black man who is not subservient to whites, a new figure on the screen at the time, and as an image of the black man as sexually potent. He is desirable to women--both black and white--and not through any seductive quality. His magnetism comes through sheer phallic power.
I liked the black-black sex scenes. I thought they were hot. Near the beginning of the film a woman summons a young boy into her room and asks him to service her. He does so and she screams and moans a lot. When he leaves her, after the credits, it is not a young boy but a grown man. It is kind of interesting and challenging, watching a male service a beautiful black female for her pleasure and at her request. There is another scene where Sweetback goes to a woman he knows and asks her to remove his handcuffs. She wants him to fuck her first.
Then there is a black-white sex scene which doesn't interest me as much. Sweetback gets involved with these bikers in a scene which goes on and on and on and is full of superimposition. What is the purpose of those superimpositions? I think he is given shelter and pays for it with sexual service.
Sweetback is unequivocally negative about whites who are either mean or stupid or both. One horrible scene occurs when the police attack a friend of Sweetback's who tells them over and over in a terrified voice: "I don't know where Sweetback is." They either shoot one of his ears or beat it with a gun and threaten to do it to the other one. In another scene officers beat up a black man they find in bed with a white girl, mistakenly believing that it's Sweetback. When they realize their mistake one says, "So what?"
It comes across as a very nasty, bitterfilm. Being white, I found it a scary film to watch. It certainly gave a voive to the anger of blacks against whites. But except for being one of the first films to really show that anger and having maybe the first portrayal of a threatening black male this film just wasn't that interesting.
A lot of this film is just shots of a man running and being chased. It just went on and on and got tiresome. It seemed like the film ran out of imagination.
The "hero" of the film is Sweetback. He is a performer in a sort of private sex-show who kills a couple of cops who are mercilessly beating another black man. He is pursued, but never caught. By his wits he escapes across the border into Mexico and the film promises that he will return, seeking revenge.
Sweetback isn't that interesting. He doesn't say very much and doesn't project much personality. He was definitely interesting as a black man who is not subservient to whites, a new figure on the screen at the time, and as an image of the black man as sexually potent. He is desirable to women--both black and white--and not through any seductive quality. His magnetism comes through sheer phallic power.
I liked the black-black sex scenes. I thought they were hot. Near the beginning of the film a woman summons a young boy into her room and asks him to service her. He does so and she screams and moans a lot. When he leaves her, after the credits, it is not a young boy but a grown man. It is kind of interesting and challenging, watching a male service a beautiful black female for her pleasure and at her request. There is another scene where Sweetback goes to a woman he knows and asks her to remove his handcuffs. She wants him to fuck her first.
Then there is a black-white sex scene which doesn't interest me as much. Sweetback gets involved with these bikers in a scene which goes on and on and on and is full of superimposition. What is the purpose of those superimpositions? I think he is given shelter and pays for it with sexual service.
Sweetback is unequivocally negative about whites who are either mean or stupid or both. One horrible scene occurs when the police attack a friend of Sweetback's who tells them over and over in a terrified voice: "I don't know where Sweetback is." They either shoot one of his ears or beat it with a gun and threaten to do it to the other one. In another scene officers beat up a black man they find in bed with a white girl, mistakenly believing that it's Sweetback. When they realize their mistake one says, "So what?"
It comes across as a very nasty, bitterfilm. Being white, I found it a scary film to watch. It certainly gave a voive to the anger of blacks against whites. But except for being one of the first films to really show that anger and having maybe the first portrayal of a threatening black male this film just wasn't that interesting.
Friday, September 24, 2010
The Last Wave. 1977. Directed by Peter Weir.
(3/17/01)
This was a very frustrating film for me to sit through. I really couldn't get an idea of what it was all about. It is about a lawyer who gets involved with defending a group of aborigines who are accused of killing a young man. He becomes drawn into their world and discovers something about his own identity and powers. At the end he is led into a secret chamber and reads a story on the walls which ends with an apocalypse. He finds his way back into the outside world and the film stops abruptly as he is confronted with a gigantic wave which is about to confront him.
So what is this all about? It beats me, really. The film seems like a low-budget horror film burdened by symbolism. The film begins with an odd occurrence of rain when there are no clouds. Water imagery abounds--there is black rain, a bathtub overflows, there is something about a car that I don't remember and then, of course, the last wave. So?
This actually threw me because as the film begins with rain and hail I assumed that that is where the story begins. But I was wrong. When we see the young man running with the sacred objects he has either seen or stolen I wasn't paying close attention because I didn't realize that this was the actual beginning of the narrative. And it took me a little while to catch up.
I didn't find this film so believable on a literal level. What the hell is a high-class corporate lawyer doing defending these aborigines on a murder charge? Even if he were doing it as an act of public service this kind of case is not his specialty, not his field. So that doesn't make sense. And I have a problem with the idea of a lawyer defending people who don't want to be defended. The aborigines do not want their story told in court and are prepared to take the consequences. And I feel that that should and would be respected by any sensible lawyer. So all that just didn't make sense to me. Perhaps I wouldn't have cared if I had understood the symbolism enough so that the literal narrative wasn't particularly important to me. (That's just a guess.)
I wasn't impressed with the performances--or perhaps it was just that the characters didn't interest me. I think that Richard Chamberlain is a name that I've heard, but I didn't find him interesting as the lawyer. Olivia Hammett as his wife just grated on me.
I don't know anything about Australian aborigines. They are not part of my life or background. Perhaps that is why their portrayal in this film didn't have much resonance for me. I can well believe that to an Australian audience these people and their culture were a little bit mysterious, a little bit exotic.
This film is about a man's discovery of himself, of who--and what--he really is. The protagonist is not just an ordinary man. He is something called a "Mubculan"--that's as near as I can spell it. He has something to do with these aborigines, a bond which he experiences first through dreams, then through his encounters with a wise old man known as Charlie. For me, the most memorable scene in the film is the one when he comes to see Charlie who questions him and asks him: "Who are you? Who are you?" over and over, more and more softly. It is a haunting moment.
Other than that I have no idea what this film is all about. I would find it interesting to read an explanation of it, but that is really more on account of its reputation than for any fascination I felt with the film itself.
This was a very frustrating film for me to sit through. I really couldn't get an idea of what it was all about. It is about a lawyer who gets involved with defending a group of aborigines who are accused of killing a young man. He becomes drawn into their world and discovers something about his own identity and powers. At the end he is led into a secret chamber and reads a story on the walls which ends with an apocalypse. He finds his way back into the outside world and the film stops abruptly as he is confronted with a gigantic wave which is about to confront him.
So what is this all about? It beats me, really. The film seems like a low-budget horror film burdened by symbolism. The film begins with an odd occurrence of rain when there are no clouds. Water imagery abounds--there is black rain, a bathtub overflows, there is something about a car that I don't remember and then, of course, the last wave. So?
This actually threw me because as the film begins with rain and hail I assumed that that is where the story begins. But I was wrong. When we see the young man running with the sacred objects he has either seen or stolen I wasn't paying close attention because I didn't realize that this was the actual beginning of the narrative. And it took me a little while to catch up.
I didn't find this film so believable on a literal level. What the hell is a high-class corporate lawyer doing defending these aborigines on a murder charge? Even if he were doing it as an act of public service this kind of case is not his specialty, not his field. So that doesn't make sense. And I have a problem with the idea of a lawyer defending people who don't want to be defended. The aborigines do not want their story told in court and are prepared to take the consequences. And I feel that that should and would be respected by any sensible lawyer. So all that just didn't make sense to me. Perhaps I wouldn't have cared if I had understood the symbolism enough so that the literal narrative wasn't particularly important to me. (That's just a guess.)
I wasn't impressed with the performances--or perhaps it was just that the characters didn't interest me. I think that Richard Chamberlain is a name that I've heard, but I didn't find him interesting as the lawyer. Olivia Hammett as his wife just grated on me.
I don't know anything about Australian aborigines. They are not part of my life or background. Perhaps that is why their portrayal in this film didn't have much resonance for me. I can well believe that to an Australian audience these people and their culture were a little bit mysterious, a little bit exotic.
This film is about a man's discovery of himself, of who--and what--he really is. The protagonist is not just an ordinary man. He is something called a "Mubculan"--that's as near as I can spell it. He has something to do with these aborigines, a bond which he experiences first through dreams, then through his encounters with a wise old man known as Charlie. For me, the most memorable scene in the film is the one when he comes to see Charlie who questions him and asks him: "Who are you? Who are you?" over and over, more and more softly. It is a haunting moment.
Other than that I have no idea what this film is all about. I would find it interesting to read an explanation of it, but that is really more on account of its reputation than for any fascination I felt with the film itself.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Dark. 1973-74. Directed by Paul Winkler.
(3/13/01-3/16/01)
I really liked this one. Paul Winkler's film is about Australian aborigines. He contrasts footage of a contemporary aborigine political demonstration with images of the past. The contemporary footage was all shot in broad daylight; the images of the past are surrounded by black or set against a black background. So the present is full of light while the past is surrounded by darkness.
All of the imagery is permeated by motion. The footage of the political demonstration is packed with fast pans and what looks like quick zooming in and out. But the zooms are so much faster than a camera could do that I suspect they were made differently than zooming with the camera--probably through re-photography. The imagery of the past likewise has a charging, pulsating quality and the images are shown multiple times at once, a la Andy Warhol. This driving motion seems to accelerate as the film proceeds.
The program note identifies the "images of the past" as "primitive cave drawings, the sacred Ayers Rock and, most particularly, the head of an old aborigine warrior." I was aware of the cave drawings only at the beginning; otherwise the only image I could discern was the head of the warrior. I didn't recognize the Ayers Rock at all. Some of the imagery looked completely abstract as in the manner of a lot of Brakhage's work of the 1970s. It was footage of something, but what that something was was undiscernable.
A lot of this film reminded me of Ed Emshwiller's Relativity, although I barely remember that film. I think it would be very interesting to see the two of them together.
The film had what appeared to be an electronic soundtrack. It had a modern industrial quality to it. It really seemed to work in this film. It was like it emphasized the modern aspect of the film--that even though it reaches back in time as far as its subject is concerned it is still rooted in a modern perspective or views that subject through a modern prism.
I think that this film is more enjoyable for its style than for its subject matter. In fact, I think that the motion and manipulation of the imagery tend to move one's awareness away from what is happening. I mean this with regard to the contemporary footage. I became aware of this in a scene where policemen (or military personnel) were beating up one of the demonstrators. I suddenly realized that up until this point I had only been vaguely aware of what had been going on. Yes, I knew it was a demonstration, but I was more interested in the pulsating rhythms of what seemed like camera movement but really wasn't.
I really liked this one. Paul Winkler's film is about Australian aborigines. He contrasts footage of a contemporary aborigine political demonstration with images of the past. The contemporary footage was all shot in broad daylight; the images of the past are surrounded by black or set against a black background. So the present is full of light while the past is surrounded by darkness.
All of the imagery is permeated by motion. The footage of the political demonstration is packed with fast pans and what looks like quick zooming in and out. But the zooms are so much faster than a camera could do that I suspect they were made differently than zooming with the camera--probably through re-photography. The imagery of the past likewise has a charging, pulsating quality and the images are shown multiple times at once, a la Andy Warhol. This driving motion seems to accelerate as the film proceeds.
The program note identifies the "images of the past" as "primitive cave drawings, the sacred Ayers Rock and, most particularly, the head of an old aborigine warrior." I was aware of the cave drawings only at the beginning; otherwise the only image I could discern was the head of the warrior. I didn't recognize the Ayers Rock at all. Some of the imagery looked completely abstract as in the manner of a lot of Brakhage's work of the 1970s. It was footage of something, but what that something was was undiscernable.
A lot of this film reminded me of Ed Emshwiller's Relativity, although I barely remember that film. I think it would be very interesting to see the two of them together.
The film had what appeared to be an electronic soundtrack. It had a modern industrial quality to it. It really seemed to work in this film. It was like it emphasized the modern aspect of the film--that even though it reaches back in time as far as its subject is concerned it is still rooted in a modern perspective or views that subject through a modern prism.
I think that this film is more enjoyable for its style than for its subject matter. In fact, I think that the motion and manipulation of the imagery tend to move one's awareness away from what is happening. I mean this with regard to the contemporary footage. I became aware of this in a scene where policemen (or military personnel) were beating up one of the demonstrators. I suddenly realized that up until this point I had only been vaguely aware of what had been going on. Yes, I knew it was a demonstration, but I was more interested in the pulsating rhythms of what seemed like camera movement but really wasn't.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Landscape. 2000. Directed by Martin Sulik.
(3/13/01)
This film didn't make much of an impression on me. It is mostly a series of anecdotes reflecting on Slovakia's troubled history. I will say, though, that the picture gained in power towards the end.
I didn't like Martin Sulik's sense of humor. Towards the beginning there is a scene where a child is dying from choking. The father makes a mad dash to find a doctor. (This is shown in speeded-up motion.) On the way, he stops to order a coffin. A man wears his jacket backwards as he rides his bicycle. He is hit by a car. The police find him and note that he is still breathing, but think that his head has been twisted. They twist it back. He isn't breathing any more. Other people in the audience laughed heartily at scenes like this; I didn't.
The film has a feel of folklore about it--of stories that have been told and repeated. It has a feel to it that reminded me of Jerzy Kosinski's The Painted Bird, although I can't quite identify what brings that comparison to mind.
Some of the best scenes occur towards the end, as I said. There is a poignant, haunting sequence where a woman returns for a visit after being away for thirty years and meets a woman she had known when she was much younger. The woman brings her home and they spend the night together as old friends. The woman who has been away admires the other woman's hair. She shows her how she cuts it every ten years and keeps it in a drawer. As the other woman sleeps she cuts her hair and gives it to her the next day as a gift.
The next day the two women go to a tree where the woman who moved believed she had carved her initials many years before. The two women search and climb the tree, but there is no trace of the initials. They leave, deciding that the bark of the tree has overgrown the initials, but a narrator informs us that the tree on which the woman had carved her initials had been chopped down. It wasn't the same tree.
At the end of the film a boy's father disappears. He searches for him and finds him dead in the snow. (I believe he died around railroad tracks.) This sequence was beautifully photographed amidst stark, snowy landscapes.
For me, the most haunting scene of all is the one in which the verger goes through a cemetery on his way home and comes across a man whom he had known many years before. The man is a Jew who had been taken away during the holocaust. I forget what this man tells the verger. He is searching to find out what happened to his wife or something like that. A moment or so later the verger turns to look at him and he has disappeared, suggesting that he was a spirit rather than a living person. That scene really worked.
There was an interesting use of color. Some scenes were very highly saturated. In particular, some scenes were very yellow or golden brown.
This film didn't make much of an impression on me. It is mostly a series of anecdotes reflecting on Slovakia's troubled history. I will say, though, that the picture gained in power towards the end.
I didn't like Martin Sulik's sense of humor. Towards the beginning there is a scene where a child is dying from choking. The father makes a mad dash to find a doctor. (This is shown in speeded-up motion.) On the way, he stops to order a coffin. A man wears his jacket backwards as he rides his bicycle. He is hit by a car. The police find him and note that he is still breathing, but think that his head has been twisted. They twist it back. He isn't breathing any more. Other people in the audience laughed heartily at scenes like this; I didn't.
The film has a feel of folklore about it--of stories that have been told and repeated. It has a feel to it that reminded me of Jerzy Kosinski's The Painted Bird, although I can't quite identify what brings that comparison to mind.
Some of the best scenes occur towards the end, as I said. There is a poignant, haunting sequence where a woman returns for a visit after being away for thirty years and meets a woman she had known when she was much younger. The woman brings her home and they spend the night together as old friends. The woman who has been away admires the other woman's hair. She shows her how she cuts it every ten years and keeps it in a drawer. As the other woman sleeps she cuts her hair and gives it to her the next day as a gift.
The next day the two women go to a tree where the woman who moved believed she had carved her initials many years before. The two women search and climb the tree, but there is no trace of the initials. They leave, deciding that the bark of the tree has overgrown the initials, but a narrator informs us that the tree on which the woman had carved her initials had been chopped down. It wasn't the same tree.
At the end of the film a boy's father disappears. He searches for him and finds him dead in the snow. (I believe he died around railroad tracks.) This sequence was beautifully photographed amidst stark, snowy landscapes.
For me, the most haunting scene of all is the one in which the verger goes through a cemetery on his way home and comes across a man whom he had known many years before. The man is a Jew who had been taken away during the holocaust. I forget what this man tells the verger. He is searching to find out what happened to his wife or something like that. A moment or so later the verger turns to look at him and he has disappeared, suggesting that he was a spirit rather than a living person. That scene really worked.
There was an interesting use of color. Some scenes were very highly saturated. In particular, some scenes were very yellow or golden brown.
The Earth Sings (Zem Spieva). 1933, reconstructed 1983. Directed and photographed by Karel Plicka.
(3/4/01)
This was a truly beautiful film to watch. It is about the people of Slovakia, their work, their games, their relationship to the land. It brims with stunning images of nature and it is a pleasure to sit through. However, there didn't seem to be a narrative or anything to hook and hold the viewer's attention, so I don't remember many specific details of it. The experience of watching this film is for me akin to listening to a fine piece of classical music--very enjoyable, but I don't remember specific details.
The film has, in fact, been likened to a symphony and is backed by a sumptuous score. The music reminded me of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana. There was a lot of charal singing which suited the feel of the picture very well.
It is a very positive, very affirmative film. It shows a simple way of life and the people seem very satisfied with it. There are children and young people and some very old people. They wear beautiful costumes and a lot of the film seems like a pageant. What they have seems to be a very healthy way of life, yet I couldn't help but think that, for all their hard work, they seem basically like children.
The film had intertitles in Slovak which I couldn't read. (I didn't realize until later that a translation had been provided.) If I had been able to understand them I probably would have been able to follow the film better and remember more of it. One thing that bothered me a bit about the restoration was that the music was rerecorded. This caused an incongruity between the grainy old images and the fresh, crisp soundtrack. In other words, the picture showed signs of age, but the soundtrack didn't. This bothered me a bit, but after a while I accepted it.
While watching this film I had the sensation that I was seeing a beautiful example of film as art.
This was a truly beautiful film to watch. It is about the people of Slovakia, their work, their games, their relationship to the land. It brims with stunning images of nature and it is a pleasure to sit through. However, there didn't seem to be a narrative or anything to hook and hold the viewer's attention, so I don't remember many specific details of it. The experience of watching this film is for me akin to listening to a fine piece of classical music--very enjoyable, but I don't remember specific details.
The film has, in fact, been likened to a symphony and is backed by a sumptuous score. The music reminded me of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana. There was a lot of charal singing which suited the feel of the picture very well.
It is a very positive, very affirmative film. It shows a simple way of life and the people seem very satisfied with it. There are children and young people and some very old people. They wear beautiful costumes and a lot of the film seems like a pageant. What they have seems to be a very healthy way of life, yet I couldn't help but think that, for all their hard work, they seem basically like children.
The film had intertitles in Slovak which I couldn't read. (I didn't realize until later that a translation had been provided.) If I had been able to understand them I probably would have been able to follow the film better and remember more of it. One thing that bothered me a bit about the restoration was that the music was rerecorded. This caused an incongruity between the grainy old images and the fresh, crisp soundtrack. In other words, the picture showed signs of age, but the soundtrack didn't. This bothered me a bit, but after a while I accepted it.
While watching this film I had the sensation that I was seeing a beautiful example of film as art.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Red Squad. 1972. By the Pacific Street Collective.
(2/22/01)
This is a feisty little cinema-verite picture. The basic idea is that the police (and possibly other "authorities") were covertly photographing and following and collecting information on people. So the filmmakers turned the tables on them and filmed and taped them. And the authorities didn't like it. And the film exposes them and their tactics. And it feels so good.
There are some great moments of encounters with cops. We see police questioning a young man sitting in his car or standing by it about his friends who are at that moment filming them. There are interviews with the parents of one of the filmmakers who have been questioned or interrogated by members of the "red squad." This was an obvious attempt at intimidation and it is wonderful seeing this middle-class couple backing up and supporting their son against the establishment in what look like "radical" activities.
This film explains the tactics used by the police. Taking photos of people at rallies or demonstrations, for example, is a way of intimidating people into not coming. Another is addressing people--who have presumably never seen them before--by their first names, implying that they are being watched and observed.
One thing that works very well in this film is the singling out of one person and making the audience very aware of him. The person they used was Detective John Finegan who becomes a name and a face that we remember. In effect he becomes the main character of the film. I would like to know something of what happened to him in the years after 1972.
So what is most enjoyable about this film is that the hunters become the hunted. I also liked the shots of a young Ed Koch expostulating about how abhorrent and unacceptable is the collecting of information on citizens.
The film flounders after a while. After we get beyond the scenes of the police being filmed without their cooperation the film becomes a lot less interesting. The last part is an interview with ablack man who infiltrated radical groups on behalf of the government. I found my attention waning. Interestingly enough, that interview is subtitled. Earlier in the film we hear a tape which was made surreptitiously of an encounter with police officers. That recording was barely audible. I wonder why it wasn't subtitled.
This is a feisty little cinema-verite picture. The basic idea is that the police (and possibly other "authorities") were covertly photographing and following and collecting information on people. So the filmmakers turned the tables on them and filmed and taped them. And the authorities didn't like it. And the film exposes them and their tactics. And it feels so good.
There are some great moments of encounters with cops. We see police questioning a young man sitting in his car or standing by it about his friends who are at that moment filming them. There are interviews with the parents of one of the filmmakers who have been questioned or interrogated by members of the "red squad." This was an obvious attempt at intimidation and it is wonderful seeing this middle-class couple backing up and supporting their son against the establishment in what look like "radical" activities.
This film explains the tactics used by the police. Taking photos of people at rallies or demonstrations, for example, is a way of intimidating people into not coming. Another is addressing people--who have presumably never seen them before--by their first names, implying that they are being watched and observed.
One thing that works very well in this film is the singling out of one person and making the audience very aware of him. The person they used was Detective John Finegan who becomes a name and a face that we remember. In effect he becomes the main character of the film. I would like to know something of what happened to him in the years after 1972.
So what is most enjoyable about this film is that the hunters become the hunted. I also liked the shots of a young Ed Koch expostulating about how abhorrent and unacceptable is the collecting of information on citizens.
The film flounders after a while. After we get beyond the scenes of the police being filmed without their cooperation the film becomes a lot less interesting. The last part is an interview with ablack man who infiltrated radical groups on behalf of the government. I found my attention waning. Interestingly enough, that interview is subtitled. Earlier in the film we hear a tape which was made surreptitiously of an encounter with police officers. That recording was barely audible. I wonder why it wasn't subtitled.
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