It never ceases to amaze me how many interesting movies are waiting to be discovered by the open-minded viewer. I could happily ignore most new releases -- although to be fair I try to make the effort to see them all in due course -- in the hope of finding my entertainment further afield. This week has been a good case in point, since after watching the film that I intended to be the centrepiece of this entry, I saw two others that merit if only the briefest of mentions.
The first of these was a German experimental film from 1925 titled "Das Blumenwunder", which I assume means 'the wonder of flowers'. No point trying to verify this on IMDb since the film isn't even included in their remarkable database. Effectively it was a very, very early entry in what I think is called time-lapse photography, watching various flowers bloom, blossom, and sometimes fade. I have certainly seen modern-era nature programmes using the same technique, but never morphing the flowers into flowingly-robed dancers as this one did! On one level its 65 minutes running time verged on the boring, but I kept telling myself that the movie was probably of great historic merit and certainly of great curiosity value.
The second movie was a modern Indian one from Channel Four's annual late-night Indian season. I've given up watching every one of these movies as a matter of course, but do set those that sound of potential interest. I picked a real winner with "Lootera" (2013). Set in 1953, shortly after the country's independence, it seems at first a run-of-the-mill love story as the sickly daughter of a rich landowner (whose property is largely being nationalised) falls for the handsome 'archaeologist' who is excavating on their land. He loves her too, but his 'brother' tells him that their 'uncle' would never sanction the proposed marriage. Their engagement is announced but when her father visits their temple to prepare for the ceremony, he discovers his gold statues have been looted and the handsome lover has done a bunk. The so-called uncle has meanwhile purchased the treasures of the house and paid for them with a wad of counterfeit cash! Hence, I assume, the title of the movie.
Seeing his daughter's suffering kills the father and the story resumes with her living (and dying from TB) elsewhere in genteel poverty. Hunted by the police since many others were similarly deceived, the impostor comes back into her life while on the run -- and a different sort of love story follows, largely inspired by the O. Henry story of 'The Last Leaf' -- not that any happy ending was feasible.' This was an unusual and gripping tale and the film blessedly didn't suffer from the characters bursting into song and dance at every opportunity. Yes, there was music and singing, but this was as a background to the action and the film was all the better for its restraint.
So finally to the movie intended as this week's topic: "The New Gulliver" (1935). This film from Aleksandr Ptuschko (1900-1973), often referred to as 'the Russian Disney' was both very much of its period and a total delight despite that. What I'm getting at is that almost all Russian movies from the 30s featured smiling, happy, collective workers, going about their tasks for the glory of Mother Russia. (I doubt the films would have been sanctioned had this not been the case). Ptuschko takes the classic tale and rewrites it as a Communist text. The live-action actor, a big, brawny, cheerful yet gormless fellow, is shipwrecked in Lilliput, where he is captured by a host of impressively fashioned stop-motion miniature figures. (Again this must be one of the earliest major examples of the technique.) However these Lilliputians are a decadent bunch of aristos, while toiling beneath the kingdom are crude Claymation figures forced to manufacture munitions and awaiting their chance to rebel and to rise to the surface. I guess you get the message!
The Lilliputians decide that Gulliver should join their army as a man-mountain defence, and prepare a sumptuous banquet for him. They bring on the entertainments including a troupe of tinier midgets ('You have midgets?" he asks in amazement). However Gulliver wonders why they 'beat' their workers and he refuses to toast their king; he says they should change their motto from 'God save the throne' to 'God save Labour'. Rather than defending the kingdom from foreign enemies as in the book, Gulliver supports the workers as they storm the palace, forcing the king and his queen to hang precariously from the clock-tower. 'At last' enthuses our hero as he awakes from his dream.
You can watch this gem on the treasure-house that is You Tube. There is a copy available with English subtitles, even if these are occasionally difficult to read with their white on white. There is also a slightly longer version posted, but without the necessary titles that definitely add spice to this fantasy. Well recommended!