Yesterday, November 29, 2018, FilmStruck shut down after a brief two year run. While it may not seem impressive in an era where companies like Netflix, Hulu and Amazon Prime have inspired anyone with an internet connection to make their own streaming service, the ambitions of the TCM/Criterion Collection-hybrid were unmatched and a reflection of how much cinephiles desired to see good cinema. It wasn't just a chock-a-block website with no-name titles popping up every two weeks. It was catered in unprecedented ways, providing behind the scenes content for cinema that ranged from world cinema to Hollywood classics to modern indie greats. While they're shut down, the reports of a reemergence in 2019 with The Criterion Channel is a welcomed blessing. To pay tribute to their greatness, I thought that I would share 10 films I watched via FilmStruck that made an impression on me (for a full list of what I did watch, you can find it here). If anything, I hope this get you to hop on board with The Criterion Channel and make it last, because it's the only thing like it and easily the best variety of cinema for your streaming service money.
The following is presented in chronological order of when the films were released.
Vampyr (1932)
There's a good chance that you've seen the image of a man with a scythe ringing a bell on a dock and wondered where it came from. It's from Carl Theodor Dreyer's masterpiece Vampyr, which is one of the more overlooked vampire classics of early cinema. What's more compelling than the story is how Dreyer plays with atmosphere, managing to make every frame an unnerving painting of grief as these characters dive into the world of the blood-sucking icons. It's a perfect example of German expressionism, using shadows to full effect to implicate danger that is just out of frame. It's easily one of the most enjoyable vampire films of the era, and a superb partner to Dreyer's more beloved The Passion of Joan of Arc. I'd even argue that it's better than the more acclaimed Nosferatu and leagues better than the Bela Lugosi take on Dracula.
Adam's Rib (1949)
Thanks to FilmStruck's partnership with TCM, there was a large access to classic Hollywood cinema, including most of the Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy masterpieces between the 30's and 60's. While some could argue that there's been better screwball comedy duos out there, few have created a powerful exploration of gender politics within slapstick. It helps that the married couple had a chemistry that made every little nuance delightful to watch, and their 1949 courtroom comedy perfectly reflected the breaking point between feminism of the early 20th century and what would come. Hepburn had the confidence to pull off this iconic role, setting the stage for the 50's satire of housewife culture to follow. Everything about this film reflects actors working at the top of their game with material that feels almost prophetic. Even their lesser work (Pat and Mike) had a lot to like about it and has aged better than many other comedies of the time. There hasn't been a couple quite like Hepburn and Tracy, and this is a prime example of why.
Throne of Blood (1957)
The simple truth is that Akira Kurosawa is one of world cinema's greatest directors, and it's a shame that FilmStruck was one of the few places that his work could be seen. While I shamefully can't claim to have taken full advantage of this access, I did catch this film that combined samurai mythology with William Shakespeare's "Macbeth." The results were incredible and reflected a man going mad with power in one of the most beautiful ways possible. Kurosawa didn't waste a frame, even making the wind blowing through the trees have a haunting and metaphorical subtext. In a lot of ways, he perfectly proved that the work of The Bard wasn't only accessible to those in Ye Olde England, but to a culture that is radically different. The finale is a riveting culmination of themes done so viscerally that they only help to strengthen his brilliance. One thing worth considering when The Criterion Channel emerges is to right some wrongs and learn that Kurosawa is more than the director of Rashomon. He has many, many more masterpieces to his credit.
The Silence (1963)
The reigning icon of Swedish cinema has remained Ingmar Bergman ever since films like The Seventh Seal and Persona were released over 50 years ago. He was a religious filmmaker, but in a way that didn't isolate those who recognized his Catholicism in every plot device used. If anything, he reflected a more realistic and complicated form of faith that was constantly being tested, and nowhere was it clearer than in his faith trilogy. After Through a Glass Darkly and Winter Light came The Silence: a film that was more doubtful and surreal than the previous two entries and probably his most provocative. As the title suggests, it's about the pain that is hidden under silence and how it impacts those around us. It may be at times slightly provocative or odd, but it all paints a picture that is inevitably powerful. Bergman's filmography is one of my favorites and it's a shame that I never got to watch them all, but what I did see only helped to solidify him as one of the greatest voices of world cinema that I have ever seen.
Le Samourai (1967)
One of the best parts of FilmStruck was my deep dive into the French New Wave movement: a genre that I have grown to love with every passing experience. There is of course Truffaut and Godard, and other greats like Bresson and Demy. Then there was Jean-Pierre Melville who created one of the most subversive films of the movement. It's a story about a samurai, or a many who works alone. The style is cool and even the car makes him seem like a French version of suave James Bond. However, the depth is astounding and the execution of the film makes a detective story full of twists that not only serve to explore mystery, but also emotions of a figure who desires to remain mysterious but wouldn't mind knowing what love was. The whole French New Wave movement is one of the greatest collections of world cinema, though it's hard to deny this film's immediacy and impact on the medium.
Stalker (1979)
Another benefit of FilmStruck was access to films that wouldn't necessarily be considered accessible as entertainment, and few directors felt that way than Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky. His towering achievement is a story that spends a lot of time in overrun fields high with weeds and empty buildings crawling with water, and yet the slow burn is so engrossing because of how expertly the plot moves ahead. It's a film that requires patience to fully appreciate, and the results provide a fascinating look into humanity with one of the most creative and bizarre landscapes imaginable. I unfortunately didn't have the patience to explore Solaris or The Mirror, but I could only imagine that they're just as majestic as this film that pushes boundaries with provocative conversations and quietness that all feels essential. A lot doesn't necessarily happen, but it still feels like it couldn't be any shorter unless it loses the full impact.
Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985)
The year 2018 is looking to be Paul Schrader's renaissance. After a lengthy career as an acclaimed screenwriter, he is receiving serious buzz for First Reformed - a film that could be his first Oscar nomination. It becomes more of a shame when you look at his incredible career, which includes this unwieldy biopic of a man driven by both art and war. By some miracle, the whole experience of living in this film captures the essence of his soul while diving into the familiar nihilism that Schrader's more well known has. It's a film that shows the power of art and the provocative nature of violence clashing in a way that creates something bigger and more impressive. It's a miracle that Schrader made a masterpiece this delicate, as any one frame out of place could topple its impact. It's one of the rare films that feels perfect, and hopefully First Reformed fans will get around to it at some point, because it's well worth watching.
The Double Life of Veronique (1991)
Before getting FilmStruck, my exposure to Krzystof Kieslowski was the unmatched Three Colors trilogy. It's a trilogy that I hold dear and explains why I was so quick to love The Double Life of Veronique: a film of dual identity that is dreamlike and perplexing in a way that is meditative. It's a beautiful film with a lot to interpret from every frame and rewards deep thought and analysis. To me, it's one of the pinnacles of great world cinema that hasn't left my conscience since watching it, and few filmmakers reach the height of Kieslowski's thought-provoking filmography. It may not always make sense, but that's kind of the point. It's up to you to determine what it means, and I'm sure I'll feel differently the next time that I see it.
Lillehammer '94: 16 Days of Glory (1994)
This past year marked the latest Olympics ceremony, which lead FilmStruck to upload a series of Bud Greenspan documentaries, almost exclusively at daunting lengths of over three hours. What made Lillehammer special was that it was the year of Tonya Harding, a figure currently in the news thanks to I, Tonya. However, that's only a small piece of the bigger story that manages to make dozens of athletes into sympathetic icons who you root for as the big race happens. As fun as archival footage can be, the experience of reliving the Olympics is one that I had a lot of fun experiencing. It's a document of a time and place that has become lore and even Oscar-winning content. Still, nothing beats the original.
Persepolis (2007)
One of the first films I ever watched from FilmStruck has remained one of the most exciting that I have seen. This is a biopic of an Iranian teenager exploring her life at home and later in Europe as she goes through heartbreak and those familiar hormonal struggles. It's also a film with a unique animation style that makes everything feel more transcendent. It helps that the story itself is powerful and full of great small moments that find universal struggles of identity clashing with unfortunate circumstances. There have been many autobiographical films about contemporary Middle East struggles, but none feel as compelling as this one thanks in large part to its adaptation from a comic book that is probably even more lavish than what is seen on screen.
What about you? Were there any films from FilmStruck that you are thankful for discovering one lonely night as you looked for something to watch?
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