Word: realistes
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Paisan. Rosssellini's classic neo-realist film of post-World War II. Allied occupation of Italy. With Socrates, made by the Italian master for French TV (a Boston premiere). CENTRAL SQUARE CINEMA II. Paisan: 8:05, Socrates: 6, 10. Portnoy's Complainst. A vile reduction of the mythically pornographic Philip Roth novel about a successful Jewish lawyer and civil libertarian who couldn't help privately pulling his putz. Gone is the gloriously-guilt-ridden self-consciousness of the main character, replaced with the smirk of writer-producer-director Ernest Lehman. PI ALLEY, continuous every two hours from...
...bureaucracy that is every bit as arcane as any occult Druidic circle. With engaging arrogance he can honestly boast that "England waits at my out tray." As a highly informed fabulist, Sinclair romps through the same corridors of power that C.P. Snow shuffles through as an unimaginative realist. Myth, politics and culture are nimbly glossed as the author tells of Magog's rise to wealth and prestige. In 1948 Magog, as a specialist in foreign affairs, pays for his sack time with a fierce Israeli girl by secretly shipping arms to the Haganah. He justifies his pleasure by rationalizing...
...daily burden of Noah but of the guilts and suspicions the boy created between his parents. The book also records moments of tenderness and deep understanding. Yet caught between love and despair, Greenfeld re uses to sentimentalize his or his wife's deflected lives. He is an enduring realist, particularly when forced to define himself. "I am," he says, "a father-writer." · R.Z. Sheppard
THIS IS THE particular genius of Dick Bartlett. Films in the fifties went through a sort of social revolution when they started showing busdrivers and such people as ordinary human guys. These films mostly treated their characters with a neo-realist awareness of social problems and the dignity of the little man in a condescending celebration of the unwashed. Ruby, on the other hand, doesn't represent anybody but a human being. If you look at us in the right way, we're all pretty funny...
...were, embalmed. The gel has the disconcerting resiliency of flesh-it feels vulnerable and intimate-while its contents, which may be any thing from a cut-out decal of a rain bow trout to a diminutive plastic air plane, exhale a delicate poetry of sur realist juxtaposition; their like has not been seen in America since Joseph Cornell's boxes. Memory and touch, a poignant archaeology of the self: at its best, Paris' work is pure magic...