Writer-Director Paul Mazursky Dead at 84

By Steve Evans

Five-time Oscar nominee Paul Mazursky, who played a role in Stanley Kubrick's first film, Fear and Desire, died June 30 in Los Angeles. He was 84.

Mazursky's career as an actor, writer, director and producer spanned six decades and almost all genres, although his focus remained primarily on comedy and drama. Always a bridesmaid, he came closest to winning the Academy Award for his work on An Unmarried Woman (1978), starring Jill Clayburgh as a wealthy Manhattanite whose life is shattered when her husband leaves her for a younger woman. Mazursky was up for the Oscar that year as writer, director and producer. Clayburgh also received a nod for Best Actress.

His most popular film, Down and Out in Beverly Hills (1986), is a remake of Jean Renoir's classic French satire Boudu Saved From Drowning. Mazursky was reportedly a great admirer of French cinema, Renoir in particular, and this fact alone drew me to Mazurksy's work through the years. Down and Out remains one of my favorite films satirizing the Reagan years.

As an actor, Mazursky played a delinquent tormenting Glenn Ford's high school teacher in the hugely influential Blackboard Jungle (1955). Late in life, he had a recurring role as the poker dealer Sunshine in The Sopranos.

As a writer, Mazursky penned the amusing hippie film I love You Alice B. Toklas (1968) starring Peter Sellers as a square who learns to tune in, turn on, drop out and loosen up with the benefit of a special hash-brownie recipe. Getting it on with Leigh Taylor-Young certainly adds to Sellers' enthusiasm for the role.

A Jewish kid from Brooklyn, Mazursky's work was often compared with Woody Allen, as the two worked similar turf. Mazursky never came completely out of Allen's shadow, but they collaborated through the years and Mazursky's films never failed to entertain.

Film critic Roger Ebert wrote that Mazursky's comedies "are more intelligent than most of the serious films around."

Always a writer of topical material, much of Mazursky's output may now seem dated as his settings are invariably linked to the social concerns of a specific time and place. You should seek them out, anyway.

He had an acerbic wit that reportedly emerged from a gentle spirit and a fascination with the foibles of average Americans.

Cinema Uprising copyright © 2014 by Steve Evans. All rights reserved.

Teenage Wasteland, Oh Yeah

The Blackboard Jungle
Warner Bros. // 1955 // 101 Minutes // Not Rated

Reviewed by Steve Evans

“A shock story of today’s high school hoodlums!” ~ From the Promotional Poster.

Opening Shot
Glenn Ford deals with juvenile delinquents in this milestone ’50s film featuring a cast of rising stars and the first use of rock-and-roll on a film soundtrack.

A Bit of Plot…
Idealistic English teacher Richard Dadier (Ford, Dear Heart) joins the staff at North Manual High School, an inner-city hellhole where the punks terrorize the teachers as a matter of tradition. On the first day of school Dadier thwarts a student rapist attacking a new teacher in the library. Dadier’s students immediately start mispronouncing his name, taunting him with "Daddy-O" and petty insolence. A Navy veteran, Dadier can handle himself in a fistfight, but he prefers to hit his antagonists with kindness and respect. With an eye toward teaching these hooligans, he earns the reluctant respect of the young thugs led by Vic Morrow (God’s Little Acre) and Sidney Poitier (In the Heat of the Night). Of all the toughs in school, Morrow, especially, is a right rotten little bastard with a switchblade and a foul attitude (at right, menacing Ford). A natural leader, Poitier has greater aspirations, but after years of parental indifference and teachers who couldn’t care less, he has virtually given up on himself.

At home, Dadier shares only the bare details of his classroom war stories with his wife (Anne Francis, Forbidden Planet, and seen at left), a delicate woman undergoing a difficult pregnancy. By midterm, Dadier will face two threats on his life, allegations of infidelity and bigotry, and enough petty torments in class to rile even the most patient teacher into a murderous rage.

Historical Context and Significance
Written and tautly directed by Richard Brooks, who based the screenplay on Evan Hunter’s novel, Blackboard Jungle virtually invented the juvenile delinquent genre in the mid-1950s. It received Oscar nominations for writing, editing, black-and-white art direction, and cinematography. By bookending the action with Bill Haley and the Comets’ then-fresh "Rock Around the Clock," the film also became the first mainstream picture to feature rock music on the soundtrack. Blackboard Jungle was an obvious influence on Rebel Without a Cause, as well as many lesser, imitative efforts. The genre flourished for a few years at the old studios like MGM, which produced Brooks’ film, and in the hands of exploitation hacks such as William Morgan. Working from a script scribbled by Edward D. Wood, Jr., Morgan directed The Violent Years just a few months after Blackboard Jungle earned a bundle for MGM. Morgan’s little exploitation quickie is the antithesis of Brooks’ high-minded and morally complex film. As such, it would make a marvelous companion to Blackboard Jungle as a double feature for the cinema buff with a wry sense of humor.

Ford is perfect as the quiet veteran who just wants to teach English. But Morrow, in his film debut, nearly steals the show as a hoodlum so venomous and menacing (by 1955 standards) that some viewers will feel their blood begin to boil every time the creep opens his mouth. Poitier radiates star presence and the quiet dignity that would later earn him an Oscar for Best Actor in Lilies of the Field. Anne Francis was always a lightweight, although her vulnerability is put to good use — even if the character’s fate is telegraphed early and often. Sharp-eyed film buffs can spot future director Paul Mazursky (Down and Out in Beverly Hills) and Jamie Farr (the cross-dressing Klinger on the television series M*A*S*H) among the gang members. Both made their film debut in Blackboard Jungle. Farr is listed in the credits under his birth name, Jameel Farah. (Above left, Mazursky, Poitier, Ford. Below right, Jamie Farr in foreground.)

What’s on the Disc, Steve?
I’ll tell ya. No qualms about the video or audio; both are as clean as the source materials, which remain in great condition. Extras include a commentary track featuring the recollections of Mazursky and Farr, plus insights from Glenn Ford’s son Peter and assistant director Joel Freeman. Much of their conversation centers on the controversial aspects of the film, its surprising success, and its lingering influence. Perhaps it’s no surprise that Farr, who plays a relatively minor character and has not been seen on film or television for years, would sign on for the commentary. Ford died in 2006. Morrow was killed in a horrific on-set accident during the making of The Twilight Zone (1983). Poitier is too successful at this stage of his life to pick up a few pennies dishing on a film that was made when he couldn’t even book a room at the same hotel as his white costars.

The DVD also comes with an original theatrical trailer and a Droopy Dog cartoon, Blackboard Jumble, that spoofs the film.

The Contrarian View
Occasionally quaint by contemporary standards of cinematic nastiness, the picture still packs a bruising punch in its violence, realistic dialogue, and a sense of alienation and helplessness that was often missing from the sunny films of the 1950s.

Coda
Blackboard Jungle remains an energetic and absorbing film experience — gritty, vital, hugely influential.

Copyright © 2009 by Steve Evans // dba Cinema Uprising. All rights reserved.

Renoir's Boudu: A Classic Satire of Bourgeois Folly

Boudu Saved From Drowning
Criterion Collection// 1932 // 84 Minutes // Not Rated
Review by Steve Evans

The pitch:

A sharp class satire by that master of cinema, Jean Renoir, son of an Impressionist painter.

The Criterion Collection delivers a sterling presentation of Boudu Sauvé des Eaux (Boudu Saved From Drowning), a timeless French film and small marvel of social satire, captured seven decades ago in luminous black-and-white by the filmmaking son of an Impressionist painter.

This early 1930s film by master director Jean Renoir presents the folly of Parisian bourgeois as farce—a theme that would dominate his later work and reach its apex with the 1939 production of Rules of the Game, widely acknowledged today both as Renoir's masterpiece and one of the greatest films of all time.

Actor-director Paul Mazursky, a Renoir devotee, would remake Boudu Saved From Drowning in 1986, crafting a similarly broad satire of materialistic obsession and class differences, updated for the Reagan era. Down and Out in Beverly Hills is a fine retelling, and would make a satisfying double feature with Renoir's film, presented here in a beautiful transfer by the cineastes at Criterion.

A bit of plot:

Boudu, a tramp, haunts the parks of 1930s Paris, yearning only to be left alone. When his dog wanders off and abandons him, Boudu (Michel Simon, L'Atalante) despairs of living and decides to kill himself. Wandering into the city, the tramp crosses a bridge near the Louvre and leaps into the Seine. Wealthy bookseller Lestingois (Charles Granval, Golgotha) witnesses this suicide attempt and dives into the river to save the waterlogged bum. He does this as much from an altruistic spirit as a desire to inject some excitement into his life. When he's not cheating on his shrill wife, Lestingois fancies himself an idealistic liberal, devoted to the abstract ideal of Natural Man. Boudu, "the perfect tramp," represents the culmination of Lestingois' liberal-intellectual obsessions.

With the help of several bored onlookers, the bookseller carries Boudu back to his store and well-appointed home on the second floor. Lestingois' high-maintenance wife worries that Boudu will stain the carpets, or worse. The housekeeper, who is also the bookseller's torrid mistress, bemoans the thought of cleaning up after a tramp. Lestingois tells the women to hush, vowing to help Boudu get back on his feet and on a path toward respectability. But the irrepressible vagrant, who never wanted to be saved from the river, repays his benefactors with chaos. Boudu rocks the household to its foundation with boorish behavior and manners befitting a beast. He spits and stomps and smashes dishes in gleeful obliviousness. Boudu is not so much an anarchist (which would require careful calculation) as a force of nature unencumbered by social restraints. He is, quite plainly, a pain in the ass.

Aesthetics, Thematics & Context:

Satire may be the most difficult of literary forms to translate into film. Whether cloaked in bitterness and pessimism or ham-fisted proselytizing, there's always a risk that the satiric film will send an audience reeling for the exits—especially if they are the targets of the mockery. Even seasoned film buffs may be hard pressed to name more than a dozen successful cinematic satirists; most people draw a blank after dropping the names of Kubrick, Lindsay Anderson (O Lucky Man!), or more recently, David Fincher (Fight Club). Satire works best when it antagonizes, when it holds up a fool's mirror before an audience. This shock of recognition can only be a good thing, as complacency is the moss that gathers on a stagnant soul.

Renoir and star Michel Simon acknowledge in an interview on this disc, conducted more than 30 years after Boudu's initial release in 1932, that police were called to restore order at several first-run theaters. Turns out French audiences were outraged by Boudu's antisocial behavior, which remains fairly obnoxious today. Renoir recalls that his picture was even pulled from some theaters after three days due to the angry reception. Society ladies, especially, complained they were offended (or were they threatened, maybe even aroused?) by Boudu's rakish charm. They could not forgive his penchant for polishing his shoes with a woman's silken undergarments and bed sheets, or his rather nasty habit of spitting in rare books of an intellectual or poetic bent, especially volumes of Voltaire.

Yes, it seems Renoir plucked all the right nerves.

Criterion provides a sparkling transfer of this 77-year-old film, with a remarkably clean mono track and a marvelous set of extras. Perhaps the best supplemental feature on the disc (there is some competition here) is a virtual tour of 1930s Paris, incorporating maps, film clips, and uncommonly intelligent narration. The 1967 interview with Renoir and his star offers superb perspective on the film. Their comments make it clear that working on Boudu was a career highlight and the beginning of a lifelong friendship.

Only the absence of a commentary track prevents this superb disc from flying into that rarefied realm of perfection. A 12-minute interview with filmmaker Jean-Pierre Gorin, recorded in 2005, merely whets the appetite for a feature-length commentary.

Why is this important? Because history can become confused and obfuscated, depending on who’s telling the story. The lingering influence of Boudu, from staged play (by René Fauchois) into film, demands clarity and candor.

Renoir infused his films with symbolism and metaphor, while drawing inspiration from his father, Impressionist painter Auguste Renoir, in terms of composition and setting. Today, the son's influence on cinema arguably exceeds the significance of the father's work as a painter. A decorated veteran of World War I, Jean Renoir's experiences in battle never dulled the essential humanity at the core of his art—even when he was at his scathingly critical best in films like Grand Illusion. So a commentary track by a Renoir expert would have added to our appreciation of Boudu. Still, Criterion delivers a superb selection of added-value content, as is their custom. Their DVD product costs a little more, but you can see, hear and feel where that extra money went.

As a freewheeling film fan, I would not restrain Monsieur Boudu, who is undoubtedly raising hell somewhere even as I conclude my thoughts on an entertaining and timeless film by Jean Renoir, one of the great provocateurs of world cinema.

So let us dispense with further verbosity and get down to it: Boudu Saved From Drowning belongs in any serious collection.

Copyright © 2008 by Cinematic Cteve // dba Cinema Uprising. All rights reserved.