The Passenger

I got to go see The Passenger by Antonioni the other day for The Crimson, as it's being revived, and I get to review it. Perks of comping: the press pass and early screenings. I'm not going to put a full review on here, because I have to do this later on for The Crimson itself, but suffice it to say that it was a truly great movie-- Jack Nicholson at the very glorious height of his powers (the movie came out in 1975, the year he made One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, and right after he was in Chinatown) [I can't be bothered to link anymore... if you're curious, you know where IMDb is. Go use it.] and Maria Schneider, the baby-woman of Last Tango in Paris fame. The film was perfect in the way that is special to art films from the Seventies-- stunning visuals, with a blue, tan and white colour scheme, and perfect pacing. Not over-much happens, though it is a plot that could lend itself quite easily to lots of action, but the choice is wise, as it aids in the whole alienation and self-examination theme that would be over done if excess were piled on. Basically, David Locke (Nicholson), a disillusioned journalist doing an investigation on guerrilla warfare in a mysterious country in Northern Africa, finds that the only other man in his hotel has died, and so decides to let go of his old life and switch identities. He also takes the address book of his fellow-traveler, and decides to keep his appointments in Germany and Spain. Turns out that this fine fellow was a gun-runner for the guerrillas, so Locke is now involved in the war he was previously observing.

At the same time, his presumed widow begins a search for him, and he himself becomes entangled in an affair with Maria Schneider, credited as "Girl". Their story starts in Barcelona, atop one of Gaudi's buildings, and then switches to a mad dash around Spain, as he tries to keep his new appointments and evade his old life. Very simply done, but interspersed with beautiful moments and glorious shots. It's the perfect movie to watch on your own, and seeing it in a theatre just draws you further into the melancholy ambiance.

After watching this in the movie theatre in Boston Common, I decided to walk back to the Charles Street T stop. Walking through town, even that little bit, was a perfect cap to the day (a day that had started with my bursting into tears during my Russian oral midterm... gah.) I talked to a couple of bums, who had improvised Halloween costumes, and I regretfully couldn't give them cigarettes, as I was out. A couple of little kids, also dressed up, had stopped a mounted policeman, and were singing to the horse while they petted him. The Frog Pong was covered over in preparation for ice skating soon, but it was nice to see that the weather was still beautiful enough that there was no ice. The sun was setting, and the sky was red. Beautiful.

I'll post a link to the article as soon as it's out, if they run it. We shall see.

And now-- homework! wahee!