Kes (1969)

Kes – 1969

Director – Ken Loach

Starring – David Bradley, Brian Glover, and Freddie Fletcher

Coal mining town? Check.  Dismal future? Check.  Bleak story and pale washed-out color palette? Check. Yup, we have ourselves a film from straight out of England from the 60’s.  Filled with angry young men doomed to continually revisit the heartbreak and disappointment that is their legacy, films like these made up their own film movement in the mid 60’s to the mid 70’s.  Where other movements like the French New Wave, and Italian Neo-Realism seemed to relish the joy and spontaneity that could be present in everyday life, this typically English set of films seemed steeped in the grimy misery that surrounded the working classes of hard scrabble England.  These films primarily deal with young men, raging and rebelling against a system that invariably gets the better of them.  While that may seem an overly grim assessment of the this genre, it’s not meant to take away from the fact that these films often illustrate that in such hard-times also exist small moments of beauty and freedom.

Kes, a film about a troubled young boy, bullied at home and at school, finds solace and acceptance in the act of raising and training a raptor (bird), and manages to illustrate this struggle for freedom and happiness quite effectively.  Juxtaposing the cramped, dirty, and oppressive imagery of the institutions that keep our main character, Billy, tied down, with imagery of him caring for, reading about, and training his falcon offer us a glimpse at the type of freedom Billy aspires to.

Far be it from me to chastise a film for being slow and depressing, but Kes in particular works very hard to crush and beat the anticipation and hope of something better right out of you.  Each character, Billy, Jude (or Jud if you believe IMDB), and their mother, as well as everyone at the school seem stuck in their routines.  Day in and day out, they aspire for nothing greater than to head to the pub for a pint, and beyond that perhaps a good snog to escape their realities.  There is no higher or greater goal for anyone to pursue.  The jobs are closer to punishments than careers, and the best anyone can hope for is maybe winning a marginal amount of money gambling, or a few jokes with friends after work.

Billy is no exception.  He trudges through school, endures teachers and bullies alike (although it can be hard to tell the difference), and often times suffers the same fate at home.  His brother Jude constantly berates him, and his ineffectual mother spends the majority of her time trying to catch a marry-able man.  He is lost, forgotten, and for all intents and purposes, completely alone.  Once Billy finds the falcon, Kes (of the movie’s title), suddenly a whole new world opens up for him.  He devotes his time and energy on something that gives back more reliably than something as short-sighted and temporary as gambling..  For a brief time, this animal brings Billy as close as he’s ever been to flying.

(***Warning Spoilers***)

However, as in all films of this sort, there is inevitably the point at which this new-found happiness is shattered, and we get to watch our main character crash back into the dreary life from which he came.  Often times, it is due to some strife or conflict from a parallel story-line that comes back around from earlier in the film.  In this instance it’s his contentious relationship with his older brother, Jude (it’s unclear whether or not they are actually brothers, but for all intents and purposes he is).  The film starts with them fighting, and hurling insults at the other, and it ends similarly.   Jude is determined, not to help his little brother find a way out, but to ensure that he is as unlikely to escape this life as Jude himself is.

(***End Spoilers***)

Movies out of England all seem to have a bit of melancholy to them, even Harry Potter was a boy forced to live under the stairs and be treated like a second class citizen.  From this time-frame in particular, they seem to be downright oppressive.  Kes is no exception to the rule, rather, it’s more proof of it.  The color scheme of the film is dishwater browns and grays,  and the camera work is mostly fixed position zooming and panning, tracking with our characters through these earthy, sparse environments.  I’m not sure if the lack of color, or stillness of the frame was intentional in this film or based out of necessity, but whether it was or wasn’t, it was exceedingly effective, tempering any expectation that Billy would be successful in his spiritual exodus, with the reality of his eventual conformity.

Definitely, a tear-jerker towards the end, Kes is a prime example of the “Angry Young Men” (dubbed so by the folks at the Filmspotting podcast) movement of English film, and the remarkable depression of an entire class of working people.  While it is not an easy watch, it does resonate with the viewer at an emotional level.  While none of the imagery has stuck with me in particular, the themes and tone of the film have been rattling around in my brain since I saw it.  It’s a tough watch, though, so be prepared.

(***Warning Spoilers***)

“Goddamn it, Kes!  You made me cry over a bird!” – Ashley

One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest (1975)

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest – 1975

Director – Milos Forman

Starring – Jack Nicholson, Danny DeVito, Will Sampson, and Louise Fletcher

Based on the popular novel by Ken Kesey, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is one of those iconic, larger than life movies, where the public’s impressions of it have grown beyond it’s content.  Jack Nicolson plays, well…he plays the Jack Nicholson that he always does.  The story, while it follows Nicholson’s character (R.P. McMurphy), isn’t about him.  His character acts as a catalyst for the other residents of the ward, and with all the expectations and preconceived notions about this movie, this fact is a bit of a let down.

For starters, Nicholson is playing Jack Nicholson, period.  Where in Five Easy Pieces he deviated from his usual approach to acting, here in Cuckoo’s Nest, he embraces it.  I guess the fact that he plays a character in a mental asylum makes the style more appropriate, having seen it literally a dozen times before does somehow lessen the impact.

As I hinted at before, Nicholson plays a character by the name of R.P. McMurphy, who at the beginning of the film is being admitted to a mental hospital due to his acting out repeatedly on the job.  Immediately, McMurphy manages to rile up the other residents of his ward with his antics and questioning of the status quo, normally kept in check by the imposing nurse Ratched.  McMurphy, who is there by force, is flabbergasted to find out that the other men stay in this place by choice.  He shows his disdain for the institution and its staff by consistently breaking the rules, breaking out, and challenging the authority of his captors.

So, I’ve covered my thoughts on Jack Nicholson’s acting, but luckily this film doesn’t rely solely on his performance.  The other residents of the asylum as well as the wonderfully devious turn by Louise Fletcher as Nurse Ratched provide a bevy of wonderful performances that truly move the plot of the film forward.  A lot of familiar faces show up as relatively minor roles, Danny DeVito, Christopher Lloyd, and Scatman Coruthers, were all people I knew instantly, but there are a number of other lesser known actors that inhabit some of the other roles.  One prominent, completely believable character, Billy Bibbit, is fleshed out by the character actor Brad Dourif.  Despite Nicholson’s appearance on the poster and his notoriety pushing the popularity of the film, it is these other smaller roles that completely envelop us.  Through McMurphy we are allowed to watch Dourif’s Bibbit grow, Louise Fletcher’s Nurse Ratched fume, and scheme, and perhaps most famously Will Sampson’s Chief Bromden free himself from his self-imposed bondage.

I don’t know if this rather voyeuristic outcome was intended by the director, or by Nicholson’s performance, but thankfully that is what happened.  Nicholson represents a chaos to these people, the same way a tornado or a car accident might in another film.  His character is something almost as powerful as a force of nature, something to be endured and weathered by each of the other characters.  If that was the desired outcome, then I take back my negative criticism of Nicholson’s performance.  Unfortunately this sort of thing only works once and a while, and he’s been playing the same character for years.

The cinematography, while fitting for the setting and tone of the film, didn’t seem all that different from other films in the seventies, and as a result didn’t catch my attention so much.

Despite my initial impression of Nicholson’s performance, I did really end up enjoying the film.  I didn’t realize quite how many of the plot points I had a decent knowledge of either, thanks to pop-culture references in other movies and television shows, so there was quite a lot of material that was fun and engaging.  I’d be interested in reading more about the history of this film, and it’s appearance on this list, but for the moment I’m content with having seen the film.

“Don’t fuck with your nurse” – Ashley