Tuesday, March 30, 2021

Wanda (1970)

Hello and welcome back for another round of the Criterion Challenge. We're bringing the month of March to a close with our second feature for Women's History Month: Barbara Loden's directorial debut, Wanda.


As I said last time, this is a break from the previous two entries in that, unfortunately, there is no larger directorial body of work from Loden. Within a decade of the movie's release, which was limited but acclaimed, she had died of breast cancer.

I'm saying this up front partly to clarify what I said last time, and partly because I wanted to get that out of the way early so I wouldn't dwell on it. Because it is a shame – Wanda is one Hell of a first film.

Besides the 'what could have been' aspect of Loden's larger career, the single biggest thing that caught my attention was its central character. This is by design – the movie's entire arc hinges on its study of the titular Wanda Goronski (played by Loden) as she makes her way through numerous scenarios.

Loosely based on a mix of other stories of women and aspects of her own life, Loden presents Wanda as a character who, by her nature, has lived her life by the lead of whatever man she happens to be with. This causes her to come across at points as disaffected and detached – such as in the beginning of the movie when she yields custody of her children to her ex husband with no contest – and ultimately adrift as she crosses paths with several men who use and discard her to their own ends.


The bulk of the movie is born out of one of these particular encounters, when a chance run-in puts her in the company of a fugitive named Norman (Michael Higgins), who is at first evasive, then ultimately enlists Wanda as a partner in his life of crime.

Within the larger scope of Wanda's character, her dynamic with Norman is interesting both in its similarities and its differences. There are numerous aspects where we see Norman treating Wanda with the similar sort of callousness of other men in the movie, ordering her on errands and in one sequence telling her in extensive detail what to and what not to wear.

At the same time, there is also a sense of trust Norman shows Wanda that is lacking in other interaction she has with men in the film. This isn't to say it makes their relationship an especially healthy one, as he is still clearly controlling in many ways. Still, it is striking how the fact he puts trust in her to accomplish things causes her to become more engaged and alert than we see her at any other time in the movie.

It's arguably the healthiest relationship she has in this movie.
And damn, that is bleak to think about.


It's also part of what makes the ending of this movie, for me at least, genuinely haunting (for lack of a better word.) Without giving too much away, things with Norman go awry and Wanda is left on her own again. After another bad encounter, the movie ends with Wanda sitting in a bar, looking detached as she appears to wait for the next person to come along and give her direction.

It's an arc that's both depressing and compelling in many ways. Even more when one hears Loden talk about the inspirations for her character. Incidentally, the Criterion release does include some archival interviews she gave promoting the movie that are worth watching, both for her inspirations and just the steps taken to get the film made on the budget she had.

When this first came out, the reaction to Wanda herself was decidedly mixed. I can see why – to some, her passive nature could be seen as less than engaging. Personally, I think it's part of what caught me – like a lot of films lately, this is one where I could see the more conventional story that could be told here, and the fact it instead went with following this character who just keeps trying to find someone to give her a purpose made for a different and compelling narrative.


I told myself going in that I wouldn't just make this dwelling on what Loden could have done as a filmmaker had she not died, but it's hard not to wonder. Even more with those above mentioned interviews – there is really a sense she could have gone on to make more great work.

Alas, we only got the one feature, albeit one that is still very good in its own right.

And so, we bring the month to a close.

Speaking of directorial careers, we're going a slightly different theme for next month. In honor of the man's birthday, as well as my partner, who is a fan of his work, we're venturing into the weird and wacky world of John Waters next month.


Till then.

Tuesday, March 23, 2021

One Sings, The Other Doesn't (1977)

Welcome back for another round of the Criterion Backlog Challenge.

By now, you have a good idea of the breakdown. New month, new theme. As it’s Women's History Month, the films are all movies directed by women.

I'm kicking this one off with a director whose work I have been meaning to get around to prior to this, and feel honestly a bit surprised it took me this long to get to.

That said, as a first taste of the films of acclaimed director Agnes Varda, One Sings, the Other Doesn't made for a very welcome introduction to her prolific career.

As aspects that stand out go, I think if I had to pick one, it's the overall structure and scale of the movie. The movie manages the unique balancing act of feeling both expansive and ambitious but also intimate and character-focused in how far it's willing to reach just in tracing the lives of its two protagonists.

It's also interesting in that the film doesn't start with their first encounter. We are first introduced to Pauline (Valérie Mairesse) through her meeting with Suzanne's lover. We learn from that she had previously met Suzanne (Thérèse Liotard) in passing, but it isn't until the events that start the movie, where Pauline makes arrangements to help Suzanne covertly afford an abortion, that their friendship truly forms.

This becomes the first of several points during which the two women's lives intersect. It's one of the interesting aspects of the movie for me because while the two do have several scenes together (and Mairesse and Liotard do play that camaraderie well), much of the movie is them living their lives separately, communicating in brief correspondence and meeting up when and where they can throughout.

This is one of those touches about the movie that really sticks with me the more I think about it. The nature of the friendship is crucial to the film, but it's not a driving piece of the plot as it would be in a more traditional take on this sort of story. The friendship serves as a means for Suzanne and Pauline (later Pomme) to verbalize their thoughts about their own personal journeys.


Additionally, as someone who hadn't really had any prior

knowledge of France's own politicial history with regards

to abortion, the movie provides a notable snapshot therein.

I keep coming back to the number of ways a movie like this could have gone the more conventional route with its storytelling and structure. They wouldn't make it a bad movie, but if anything, it makes the balancing act Varda accomplishes between the scope of time and the intimate nature of her two leads' personal journeys all the more impressive. Again, this is a first time for me with Varda, but if this level of nuance and characterization is consistent with her overall filmography, I am very much looking forward to seeing more of her work.

Two for two now on this project introducing me to directors who have made strong first impressions. This is part of what I was hoping for in this project, and will be keeping an eye out for an opportunity to see more of Varda's films from here.


Till then