1926: Nana (Jean Renoir)

Yesterday, inspired by Dave Hicks' excellent blog , I decided to list on the right side of my blog's home page, my favorite film for each year from 1926-2008.  Dave not only does this but includes an in-depth review for each of his choices.  Over time, I'd like to do the same and figured I would start today by talking about the first film on my list.

First, a few disclaimers though:
1.  I'm really no critic and will probably keep these posts more personal than analytical.
2.  These are simply my favorite films from each year.  By no means am I saying that they are the BEST film from each year.  These are simply the ones that have spoken to me the most, for one reason or another (which of course I hope to articulate somewhat here.)
3.  Most of these are coming from memory.  And many I've only seen once and many, many years ago.

To avoid too many glaring omissions (and to jog the memory a bit), I used several different lists to help me compile my own list.  These other lists are of course Dave's, Dan Sallitt's blog, Steve Erickson's desert island film list, Jonathan Rosenbaum's list, and Cahiers du Cinema's annual lists.


1926: Nana (Jean Renoir)
This might be my shortest piece of all.

I have only seen Nana once.  It was either in 1996 or 1997 and was during the time that I went through most of Renoir's work in chronological order.

I remember it being the first of his films that really grabbed me but honestly there's not too much I can remember about it (I could probably review some notes I took on it at the time, but I'd rather write these as impressions, and from memory.)  The most powerful impression I have is of being taken by Catherine Hessling's performance, who was Renoir's wife at the time.  I actually can't remember if I thought she was lovely or a wonderful femme fatale, but I remember having a strong feeling about her performance as Nana.

It's one I would love to see again, but I've never really had the chance. For the moment, it remains unavailable on Netflix.  But you can buy it as part of a Jean Renoir 3-Disc Collector's Edition from Amazon.

Other contenders for 1926 (another element I want to borrow from Dave's wonderful list):  At some point I need to re-visit FW Murnau's Faust.  It's really as if I've never seen it.  From this year, I particularly still want to see Howard Hawks' Fig Leaves, Vsevolod Pudovkin's Mother, Robert Flaherty's Moana, Buster Keaton's Battling Butler, Raoul Walsh's What Price Glory?, and Alfred Hitchcock's The Lodger.


2/10/10 I watched Vsevolod Pudovkin's Mother.  It wouldn't challenge for my top pick of the year.  But I did enjoy it, and I particularly appreciated it for its sense of choreography and the emotive power of the actress playing "Mother".  


2/10/10 I watched Alfred Hitchcock's The Lodger.  It wouldn't challenge for my top pick either.  But, I was definitely impressed by this early Hitch outing.  There are a few interesting dissolves, some very effective extreme close-ups, and an exceptionally fluid flashback.  Of particular interest to me, however, was the way that Hitchcock unfolded the story.  He had me fooled until nearly the very end.  It's a little cold.  I preferred it to the story of Blackmail, another early Hitchcock I watched recently.  But, I felt for Anny Ondra more in Blackmail than I did for anyone here.


2/11/10 I watched Buster Keaton's Battling Butler.  It wouldn't contend for my top pick, and it certainly doesn't affect me like my two favorite Keaton films (The Cameraman and Steamboat Bill, Jr.), but I'm glad I saw it.  I particularly liked its use of deep focus and as a change of pace, seeing Keaton, towards the end, depart from his usual stoic self.  


2/12/10 I watched FW Murnau's Faust.  Although not an easy watch, it would certainly challenge my top pick.  It's got heft, power, and some scenes that pack a serious emotional punch.  Camilla Horn as Gretchen is simply one of the most beautiful and emotive women I've ever seen, and Murnau's extraordinary eye is on display more times than I can remember.  A dark, deep, and very complex work.  


6/19/11 I watched Clarence Brown's Flesh and the Devil.  A reminder of how visually expressive, and even inventive, some of the silent period could be.  Full of nicely-weaved, surprising plot movements and a very memorable John Gilbert performance.  I don't know much about Clarence Brown's other work, but if this is any indication, he's someone I definitely need to explore.  


10/15/11 I watched Jean Renoir's Sur un air de Charleston.  Other than being the earliest demonstration of slow-motion I think I have seen, and it is poetic in its use here, there's not much I can recommend.  


1/15/12 I watched Fatty Arbuckle's The Garage.  An extremely spirited and well-directed early silent.  Some fantastic gags including Keaton hiding behind Arbuckle as he tries to evade the cops.  


1/15/12 I watched Edward Cline and Buster Keaton's Neighbors.  A moderately entertaining early Keaton.  A great gag featuring Keaton standing on the shoulders of two others.  


1/15/12  I watched Edward Cline and Buster Keaton's One Week.  Very possibly the strongest early Keaton short I've seen.  Full of great gags and Keaton's typical inventiveness.  


1/15/12 I watched Edward Cline and Buster Keaton's The Balloonatic. Actually a pretty boring and unfunny, early Keaton short.