The phosphorescent center of Nicholas Ray’s 1956 masterpiece of suburban paranoia, “Bigger Than Life,” is James Mason’s performance as a father whose delusions reach toward the heights of Greek tragedy under the influence of a then-experimental drug (cortisone). The slashing lines and bold color design have parallels in other films by Ray, but never with such cumulative widescreen terror. Godard liked to say that “the cinema is Nicholas Ray” and this brilliant hallucination lives up to that bravura declaration. Norman Rockwell on Dexedrine? David Lynch avant le lettre? Architecture as exploration of the crenellations of the mind? Yes, yes and yes. And here’s a taste of Truffaut: “Under Ray’s masterful direction, James Mason is given three or four of the most beautiful close-ups I have had the chance to see since the advent of CinemaScope. The trenchant direction imposes a terrific pace. The very opposite of a decorative film, but the slightest detail has an overwhelming beauty.” Oui. 95m. CinemaScope. Restored 35mm print. Not on video. (Ray Pride)
Chicago Salvation: Life, Movies And Uptown's Hurricane Billy A maker of hard-to categorize films, William Friedkin forged a career in his own way, fueled by arrogance, boastfulness, bravado, confidence, self-assurance and moral questioning, a Chicago working-class autodidact who grew up poor in Uptown.
Seeing The Elephant: A Review Of Babylon The boisterous, brawling yet melancholy "Babylon," is a variation on film history, but more drawing for drama. It's gaudy and mean, celebratory and sorrowful.
