Rian Johnson..."Brothers Bloom" director top dog at AFI Dallas. Hosted fest at West Hollywood's New Bev Cinema...

Rian Johnson's "Brothers Bloom" (Adrien Brody) will screen at the opening night gala at AFI Dallas at the end of March.

Even still, the multi-faceted director treated locals to a sneak preview of the much-anticipated feature at the New Beverly Cinema about a week ago when he hosted a week-long festival of films which were billed as "Rian Johnson's Festival of Fakery".

The films focused on edge-of-your-seat tales of frauds, fakers, charlatans, hoaxters, huxters and - what the perky director deliciously referred to as - "unsavory sorts."

As the Q & A started up, Johnson entertained filmgoers with an amusing round of card tricks.

However, it was not until the first film - "The Lady Eve" - sprang to life on the silver screen that the sleight of hand tricks made any sense in respect to the festival of films.

In "The Lady Eve" (a fast-paced sophisticated comedy directed by Preston Sturgess) a couple of card sharks try to fleece a young heir (Henry Fonda).

Barbara Stanwyck, who gets top billing in the delightful studio offering, is in top form - glamorous, witty, and fascinating to watch.

Fonda is a real hoot, too.

In this fun poke at the idle rich fiasco, he plays a unwitting foil prone to get tangled up in hilarious pratfalls and slapstick schtick.

At times, I - for one - was simply amazed at young Fonda's comedic timing and charismatic screen presence.

Fonda, at the height of his male beauty, is a must-see in this entertaining farce!

And, Director Preston Sturgess's deft light touch - evident throughout - is a joy to watch.

According to Johnson, Preston's mother was a devil-may-care bohemian, who gave her son free reign to explore his creative side.

The talented gadfly started out as an actor on Broadway and then segued into directing at a time when the studio system was churning out an eclectic bill of faire in the heyday of Hollywood.

To break in as a director, it is alleged that Sturgess actually paid $1 to direct his first feature, The Great McGinty. Other memorable features followed.

Mr. Johnson, himself, is a fascinating character.

Not only is he keenly interested in the craft of directing, but the history of the cinema as well.

The last evening of the festival, for instance, the likable auteur shared a couple of rare short films created for the silver screen by one of the pioneers of the medium, George Méliès.

"Four Troublesome Heads" - a wonder - was well-received by a handful of director wanna-bees underfoot, in particular.

"Heads " marked Méliès’ most sophisticated bag of special-effects tricks.

Quite by accident, the zany director figured out how to facilitate rapid appearances, disappearances and transformations of objects on film.

Méliès was also touted for being the father of the "fade out".

That eureka moment occurred out-of-the-blue one day when the iris was being turned down (as usual) to prevent a build up of moisture on the lens and the naturally inquisitive artiste noticed it created a unique fade effect.

Méliès experimented with the technique, from which other novel ideas flowed, thereafter.

In fact, a myriad of techniques Méliès facilitated on celluloid still takes the breath of filmgoers away to this very day.

In "The Magician" (Le Magicien, 1898) Méliès used a combination of jump-cuts and cunningly-designed props (including a fake tripod stand that wasn’t as see-through as it appeared) to create the impression of a disembodied living bust.

In that scenario, the audience gets the impression they actually spy Méliès remove his own head and place it on a table, where it continues to talk as though nothing has happened.

But, Méliès - and his remarkable creations - were nearly lost to obscurity.

A handful of early films were sold for the silver content during economic hard times.

In fact, at one point, Méliès was forced to abandon his flirtations with film and take refuge in squalid conditions in a kiosk on the streets of Paris.

Fortunately, as Johnson duly noted in his presentation at the New Beverly Cinema, the filmmaker's creations were rediscovered in his twilight years, and consequently, preserved by Historians for generations down-the-line to savor forever more.

Johnson also gave a brief dissertation on the 16th & 17th Century practice of collecting rare and unusual objects.

In what was labelled as a "Cabinet of Wonders", blue bloods and royals often displayed intriguing collections which may have consisted of monkey skulls, one-of-a-kind gemstones, and oddities of nature.

The entertaining showman urged members of the audience to plan a day trip to the one-of-a-kind "Museum of Jurassic Technology" in Los Angeles.

"If you like the unusual objects like a figure of the Pope crafted out of a strand of hair, then you'll be intrigued by the artifacts on display there."

All told, it was a captivating night at the New Bev.

Try to catch the next one, eh?

http://www.julianayrs.com

Hitchcock...film style & technique set auteur apart!

Recently, I attended a screening of a retrospective of a young director's work, and found myself comparing the artist's filmic style to Hitchcock's - a compliment - to be sure.

What makes a film decidedly Hitchcockian in nature?

The way a location is used, for instance.

Hitchcock was a firm believer that if a director had a distinctive setting - it should be dramatized and become indigenous to the whole picture - not just remain in the background.

An exemplary example of this was in the intense drama, "Foreign Correspondent".

The tale was set in Holland.

What was the prominent landmark the auteur chose to weave into the storyline?

Ah, the windmill.

In one key scene, the character astutely notices that when his hat blows off - it does so in the direction of the wind - the opposite way the arms of the distinctive Dutch landmark were turning. It suddenly dawns on the lead character that the odd reaction to this natural force of nature is a secret signal to conspirators.

Pure genius on the part of Hitchcock, eh?

Placing an ordinary person in extraordinary circumstances was a common element of Hitchcock's scenarios, as well.

In - "The Man Who Knew too Much" - an ordinary man from Indianapolis is vacationing in Morocco when his son is kidnapped.

In - "The Wrong Man" - Henry Fonda is arrested for a crime he didn't commit.

Also, Janet Leigh is an ordinary secretary whose plans are violently interrupted by a schizophrenic, in the outstanding spine-tingler - "Psycho".

Mistaken identity (or the loss of one) was a common plot device in the English director's films, too.

For example, in "North by Northwest" the lead character Roger Thornton is mistaken for a non-existent CIA agent.

In "Vertigo" - in a clever twist - the intriguing plot revolves around actor James Stuart's investigation of a woman (Kim Novak) and her elusive identity.

Hitchcock also leaned toward the use of suspense over surprise in his films.

If he relied on a jolt last minute, the director felt that was tantamount to simply banging the audience over the head with frightening things. Not very inventive, according to Hitch.

With the tools of suspense, on the other hand, the legendary director argued that he could reveal things to the filmgoer which the characters in the film did not know, and then artfully build tension as the characters began to learn the truth as it unfolded.

He was also fascinated by imagery and often used repeating themes.

For example, stairwells often played a central role in a Hitchcock films.

In Hitchcock's first movie - "The Lodger" - he tracked a suspected serial killer's movements on a staircase with diabolical effect.

Meanwhile, in "Psycho", several staircases were featured prominently; on the path up to the Bate's mansion and at the entrance to the fruit cellar, for instance.

And, who could forget the actual movie with the image in the title, "39 Steps"?

"39 Steps" is arguably Hitchcock's best British film.

The compositions on-screen were remarkable, too; undoubtedly influenced by the great German and Russian filmmakers of an earlier era.

The camera often angled up and down, cut off faces, and framed action in highly-unusual stunning and dramatic ways. A style of filmmaking European directors were well-known for.

Hitchcock also got a perverse thrill out of taking audiences on a voyeuristic roller-coaster ride.

In "Rear Window", as James Stewart's character stares across the courtyard at his adversary for most of the film - without the subject being none-the-wiser - the filmgoer titters over the intrigue on the sidelines.

Then, he used an unexpected element of surprise to rivet the audience to the edge of their seats.

The audience is thrown - and literally gasps out loud - when Raymond Burr's character suddenly (without warning) turns his face to the camera and pointedly asks,

"What do you want of me?"

In another instance in "Psycho", the camera zeroes in on a hotel-room window, through which the audience is first introduced to Marion Crane and her divorced boyfriend, Sam Loomis.

The characters are partially undressed. Subsequently, Marion and Sam end up titillating the filmgoers - who surmise from snatches of clues in the frame - that the two had been engaged in a passionate sex romp on their lunch break.

Later, in the same psychological thriller, Norman Bates delights in secretly watching Marion undress through a concealed peephole in the wall.

Hitchcock's films were regarded as highly sexed.

And, the English director often dealt with taboo subjects.

Sometimes, due to the conventions of the day, sexuality was cloaked in a symbolic fashion. For example, in one classic scene, the shot cuts abruptly from two aroused lovers to a train entering a tunnel in the next.

In fact, Hitchcock found a number of ways to convey sexuality without depicting it graphically; for instance, he inferred explicit sexual craving with the passionate consumption of food.

In an amusing scene in "Psycho", Anthony Perkins carries on a conversation with Janet Leigh while one of his hands strokes a dead animal and the other lingers on his crotch suggestively.

When it came to casting, the celebrated director was a firm believer in selecting unknowns for lesser roles, and for good reason.

Sure, he understood the need for star recognition and box office appeal and the value of high-calibre actors to the success of a film; but, felt the smaller parts - the cameo gems - should not be inhabited by faces that were recognized by the movie-going public at the local theatre.

This approach lended more credibility to the project, he felt.

In his own words, he noted,

"The best casting man is the novelist; his principals are always new, unfamiliar."

An old-familiar face popping up in a scene in some foreign far-off locale would jar the sense of reality to the audience, he conjectured.

How he achieved his effects on screen was legendary, too.

The infamous shower scene in "Psycho" was painstakingly achieved by facilitating the head of a nude - and a girl in full figure - with the woman doing the stabbing.

Hitchcock shot a lot of the nude scenes in slow motion because it was important to have the breast covered by an arm at a crucial moment. Later, Hitch sped up the footage for the final cut.

There were an amazing seventy-eight cuts used in a short forty-five second sequence.

His 1958 film "Vertigo", contains a camera trick that has been imitated and re-used so many times by filmmakers that it has become known as the Hitchcock zoom.

Although famous for inventive camera angles, Hitchcock generally avoided points of view that were physically impossible from a human perspective.

For example, he would never place the camera looking out from inside a refrigerator.

This was a device to draw the audience into the film's action, in his opinion.

During an interview conducted by Francois Truffaut a few years ago, Alfred Hitchcock said,

"What is drama, after all, but life with the dull bits cut out?"

Years ago, I had a funny experience near the set of "Frenzy" (a film about a necktie murderer) in London, England.

I noticed some cameras and a lot of activity in the street and asked someone what was going on.

A passer-by noted that Hitchcock was filming his latest movie.

Well, I thought to myself, Hitchcock is such a great director; with an eye for talent. Maybe I should watch from afar - who knows - I might get discovered.

A few minutes later, there was an announcement over a loud speaker,

"Would the man in the white shirt get out of the shot?"

Shame-faced, I realized it was me they were referring to, and moved on.

Oh well, that's show business.