Moshe Kam

Elsie Mae Adele Brunch Sousé: Shall I bounce a rock off his head?

Agatha Sousé: Respect your father, darling. What kind of a rock?

Egbert Sousé, the main protagonist of W.C. Fields' "the Bank Dick" has no redeeming qualities – neither does any member of his family or any other character in this 1940 movie. Given the general fare that was available at the time, it is easy to see how a drinking, lying, dishonest anti-hero such as Sousé could be attractive to movie-goers of the 1940s. Yet neither Sousé, nor any of his acquaintances or family members shows any depth, and the whole bunch is more banal than evil. The movie is in no way realistic, nor does it offer any significant social commentary as a parable or fantasy. Its cynicism was probably very refreshing in 1940, but it hardly matches latter-day imitations such as the TV series "Married with Children". In fact any one episode of "Married with Children" offers more sarcasm and mockery of family dysfunction than the whole of "the Bank Dick."

It is not a bad movie, quite enjoyable to watch (with the exception of the scene of Sousé with the black bank customer, which has distinct racial undertones). Numerous phrases and scenes were stolen from "the Bank Dick" for other projects (for instance, the "it's pronounced Sousé" shtick was used most recently by the writers of "Keeping Up Appearances.") Still, this movie is certainly dated. The only scene that continues to be fresh and satisfying in its own right is the hilarious car chase at the end. The movie is worth watching primarily for its historical value if for no other reason.

Imagine a movie about Shakespeare, devoted entirely to the Bard's taste in clothing. Nothing at all is said about the Sonnets or "Richard III" or "King Lear" (let alone "Troilus and Cressida"). Instead, we are treated to long discussions of textiles and imported Dutch shirts. Tailors in Stratford and London receive extended attention, but "Hamlet" and "Othello" are not even mentioned...

"Total Eclipse" is this kind of twisted biography. The victims are the French symbolists Verlaine and Rimbaud, and the theme is not clothing but low life. Here are Verlaine and Rimbaud drinking absinth, and here they are having sex (just as Paul Verlaine's abandoned wife gives birth to the Verlaines' first born). Here is Verlaine beating his wife; next he is setting her hair on fire... No scandal (or rumor of a scandal) is left undeveloped, and we are given all the graphic details that would be tolerated in an R-rated movie. As we hop happily from one drunken stupor to another, we somehow forget that these individuals were creative artists first, and faithless narcissist drunkards (perhaps) second...

The movie "reminds" us at the beginning, clearly as an afterthought, that Rimbaud's verse "changed the course of poetry forever" (itself a vacuous and questionable premise). However you would hardly detect anything of the kind in the movie itself. Instead, Verlaine and Rimbaud are portrayed in the style used by Florida tabloids to "report" on the exciting life of present day celebrities. All the sordid infidelities, betrayals, and embarrassments that can be unearthed are described in excruciating detail. No room is left to discuss the artistry, the philosophy, or the poetry.

At the end, this movie does not even qualify as "Cliff Notes" on of the lives of Verlaine and Rimbaud. Rather we get here the "National Enquirer" version of their "biography".

So, what do we learn about relations between men and women from `Talk to her? The men are sensitive, deep, romantic and passionate, prone to grand gestures and self sacrifice. The women…well…at best they are brain dead. Not since `Tie me up tie me down' have we seen such a Bacchanalia of misogyny. Handsome Marco is tough-looking and virile, but his soul is sensitive and generous, and his eyes are often misty. Benigno the devoted nurse would give his life to `join' his comatose love. Yes, he is a simpleton at times, but he is also selfless and has a heart of gold. And the women? Well, those who are not unconscious are either vulgar (like the nurses in the hospital), stupid and gossipy (like the concierge in Benigno's apartment house), or lazy and needy (like Benigno's mother). As to the main female characters, bullfighter Lydia attempts a bold foray into the professional world of men. She pays a very high price for this insolence. First she is ridiculed (she abandons her spacious house on a whim, because… there was a snake in the kitchen; Marco the brave kills it). Then Almodovar put her in coma. Then she dies oh so conveniently, but not before we are told she has betrayed our sensitive and noble Argentinean lover Marco… The other main female protagonist, Alicia, is a ballet dancer. Since the ballet is not a threatening profession to men, Alicia is allowed to rise from the dead. Yet she says and does awfully little once conscious, and was much more expressive and interesting as a corpse than as an awakened human being. In the background we have Katerina the bland (played very adeptly be Geraldine Chaplin), and the shell shocked Pina Bausch dancers, bumping into the walls. These dancers, who set the tone for the whole movie, avoid the chairs and the tables on the dancing stage only with the help of a quick and efficient man… Well, all this is just a little bit unbalanced I'd say