Quinoa1984

The Working Class Goes to Heaven is a film full of loud, abrasive people but set in a world where being loud and abrasive is how to get to people - whether for positive or negative results (or a mix of "well... now I'm out of work and hanging out with some loonies at the asylum"). I was always impressed by the energy and ferocity of Gian Maria Volonte here, though early on I wondered if the energy level had already reached a peak - I'm talking in the first major set piece where we see Lulu, the "Company Man" so to speak who is super productive and is all about work-work-work he is already pitched so high. But this is by design since by minute 30 he loses a finger in an accident with the machine, and then he is left out to dry by his employers - how come he isn't productive and is slipping, the guy in the lab coat coming around to needle him points out, you only lost *one* finger, after all - and realizes he should join the Union organizers and student protesters.

It is almost like it isn't just the character but the film itself that is at a high temperature, like the blood pressure is 300 over 150 and it barely gets down. But this is a story that you may go in thinking will be a polemic or of sociological interest mostly and instead reveals itself, thank goodness, as a character study of a man who comes to realize he actually, really, does not enjoy working. That is something hard to get into Lulu's mind, and like any hot-blooded creature he takes out his stresses on his girlfriend (he has a biological child who is with his mother in another family) and just at his co-workers at large. It's a film that seems like it is at a high velocity, yet it isn't until Lulu is let go by his employers - staying on the hood of one of the bosses's cars and not getting off till he is dragged away in a frenzy may do that - that director/co-writer Elio Petri shows what change is happening to Lulu: without work... who is he?

Not unlike Investigation of a Citizen Above Suspicion, Working Class hits its richest moments when, comparatively at least to early on and especially in the middle, it quiets down and we see Lulu in his desperation in his apartment (his girlfriend and son leave him after he brings over demonstrators to his place at night as they plot their next moves) going through his closet, or as he calls it his "museum" to throw things out. He gets some news right after this and the story and character deepen even more, in particular there is that look in Volante's eyes that shows that despite getting what he supposedly wants by the end it doesn't cure a much greater unhappiness.

Indeed the film is really about that most of all: are you happy or unhappy with what you have in your life? There is a scene midway through where Lulu and a co-worker have a sexual tryst in his car, but since it is, well, the size of a small 1970's Italian car, it is extremely difficult to maneuver and painful and, of course, it is over far too quickly (the food is terrible - such small portions, that old joke). This is what Lulu has put blinders over himself early on, even as there is this desperation in his eyes about what he is doing at that factory and having that crazy out-put (one piece, ass piece, something along those lines he says to keep up his momentum), and by near the end he has a victory in a sense but fails to change himself on an emotional level, and that is the tragedy shown here.

Not a great film, but a very good one and featuring a performance that once again shows how versatile Volante was as a performer; extra kudos for Melato as the frustrated partner who gets as fiery as he does.

The Ear is a sort of simmering but nonetheless piping-hot pot-boiler where it is less like the symbol of the frogs slowly boiling than two frogs who know what the pot is all about but can't pull themselves out (the tongues don't have much leverage in a Communist totalitarian block, especially when the male frogs has a role in the bureaucracy). There may be a conspiracy theory afoot or a marriage that is crumbling under the weight of a job that is untenable, and the combination of the two makes for an intense viewing.

I found some of that eerie, awfully compelling Kafka-esque psychological mania here in the sense that there is *something* going on that is out to get Ludvik (Brzobahaty) while Anna (Bodhalova) stands by going increasingly crazy and incensed and see-sawing between the fear of the whole situation and the fear that her husband may be a complete jerk, but it is not fully clear why the ministry has the "Ear" listening in. But it is also about what it means to have a marriage that is tested not simply by the scope of one man's inability to do something about his situation but also being surrounded by other men who may just want to get drunk... very drunk, indeed.

It is easy to see why this got banned at the time - it may be a minor miracle the film rolls weren't seized or destroyed before they left the lab after being developed - because it is a film that questions power and moreover questions the roles that people have when they are facing you head, like say on at a party and asking passive-aggressive questions (those moments at the gathering that Ludvik flashes back to may be the few parts that have a stylistic affectation, but it is effective). If this was seen by a public at the time that was told always what to do, would everyone start checking their houses for "Ears," too?

But the film's greatest strengths is not in one single political message but in depicting the psychic and psychological toll on this couple. Bodhalova especially is giving the kind of performance that, like in a Cassavetes film or even with Bergman, is at any moment going to burst outside of the seams of the screen and shake you in your seat. She makes accusations, she waits, she cries, she hugs, she demands, she is losing her mind (her male counterpart is also quite good too, but has to be the calmer one and do the "quiet down" thing so many times). And such a massive physical performance as well, throwing her body into every beat like when she goes from yelling at her husband at the closed door to jumping to the bed to hide from consequences.

The direction and camerawork has an intensity, but she comes in and brings brings a kind of fire that is still just... love. And what is a greater threat to an authoritarian surveillance state than love? One flaw for me: the very ending feels oddly anti-climactic. Still, an extraordinary gem of a film.

One of the things to watch for with The Nutty Professor is to see Jerry Lewis's physicality as a performer. It is hard to escape what his reputation is as a film stylist and what all of that may or may not represent, and there are some awesome uses of the camera and in composition and blocking and so on (I quite liked the hand-held, not very common for big Hollywood films in 1962, where it is the inception for Buddy Love from his point of view staggering across the street, great suspense there).

But notice near the end just how extraordinary it is bit by bit Lewis goes from Buddy to Kelp again, in the voice and then the teeth and hair and even his slouch gets into a different form, not to mention the glasses. Only Christopher Reeve as Clark Kent "becoming" Superman front of Lois in Superman 2 comes close to that kind of "Oh, wow" level of seeing an actor, more than make up or anything else, use subtle and then grand touches to get us to believe they are becoming someone else. That is the kind of talent that Lewis had as someone who knew how to use every bit of his body - and in some scenes here like when as Kelp has to meet at his meekest/most embarrassing point early on with his superior it is with the furniture as well - to transform fully.

As for the film around this remarkable actor who I am only now, at just the right time for it in my 40s (it was either that or at the age of 6 or 7 and my parents just did not think of JL either way, probably more on the negative end I would guess), the original Nutty Professor largely holds up because of Lewis and as well his excellent chemistry, as both the awkward and OCD nerd and the abrasive Playboy, with Stella Stevens who is just the right level of "I am smart enough to be at this college but not smart enough to tell these two meshugenah Jews apart" and there are set pieces like Kelp at the gym and dancing that are a lot of fun to see.

I do think the remake with Eddie Murphy, which is definitely broad in its own right and flawed as far as "ooh, FAT, right" which has aged as well as pictures of me at 6 or 7, is superior inasmuch as giving equal weight to the characterizations. I read that Lewis did not particularly like (really hated) playing Buddy Love and waited till the end of the production to do those scenes - maybe he had to work himself up to get into full Rat Pack mode (it isnt just Dino but Frank and anyone else who Lewis must have seen vaguely Italian and slimy and always at .10 BAC alcohol to get inspired from) - but curiously Lewis's own writing for Buddy is lacking. He's suave and has newfound talent as a singer and piano man, and is like half a note when it comes to being a pushy creep (at a certain point you might wonder if Stella will just go back to the original bully that sent Kelp off on his scientific misadventure).

The point is while the Buddy Love scenes are enjoyable it is much more surface enjoyment than the time Lewis puts into his titular character, and it is there he puts all the effort and pathos. It does pay in the end and that final Transformation "Be Yourselr" speech pays off somewhat because of the time as Kelp, but it also feels like "well, good riddance Buddy" because there was no other dimension to Buddy except "yeah, he should get punched across the room many times over." That may have been Lewis's point, but he ultimately is more obnoxious than actually bad and it makes for a more surface level transformation, ironically given how much Lewis must have done to try and "become" in large part his former comedy partner.

So, very good comedy! But an all time classic? Your mileage may vary. Where can I get that bird by the way?