Ingmar Bergman’s letter to the Academy

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I still find any hierarchy of kinds of movies both ridiculous and despicable. When Hitchcock made Psycho - the story of a sometime thief stabbed to death in her shower by the owner of a motel who had stuffed his mother’s corpse - almost all the critics agreed that its subject was trivial. The same year, under Kurosawa’s influence, Ingmar Bergman shot exactly the same theme (The Virgin Spring) but he set it in fourteenth-century Sweden. Everybody went into ecstasy and Bergman won an Oscar for best foreign film. Far be it from me to begrudge him his prize; I want only to emphasize that it was exactly the same subject (in fact, it was a more or less conscious transposition of Charles Perrault’s famous story “Little Red Riding Hood”). The truth is that in these two films, Bergman and Hitchcock each expressed part of his own violence with skill and freed himself of it.
Let me also cite the example of Vittorio De Sica’s Bicycle Thief, which is still discussed as if it were a tragedy about unemployment in postwar Italy, although the problem of unemployment is not really addressed in this beautiful film. It shows us simply - like an Arabic tale, as Cocteau observed - a man who absolutely must find his bicycle, exactly as the woman in the world of The Earrings of Madame de… must again find her earrings. I reject the idea that The Virgin Spring and Bicycle Thief are noble and serious, while Psycho and Madame de… are “entertainments.” All four films are noble and serious, and all four are entertainment.
When I was a critic, I thought that a successful film had simultaneously to express an idea of the world and an idea of cinema; La Régle de Jeu and Citizen Kane corresponded to this definition, perfectly. Today, I demand that a film express either the joy of making cinema or the agony of making cinema. I am not at all interested in anything in between; I am not interest in all those films that do no pulse.
- François Truffaut, 1975
(Source: oldfilmsflicker, via monsieur-antichrist)

Ingredients for “Chaussures confit”:
(Chef: Werner Herzog & Alice Waters)
This movie left a lot of people wondering, where to buy those chic driving gloves, which the unnamed Driver wears. Answer: Here
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Though it seems a bit silly, to wear them in the subway…

Rear Window - Alfred Hitchcock [1954]
Blow-Up - Michelangelo Antonioni [1966]
Funny Games - Michael Haneke [1997]
Letter from an Unknown Woman - Max Ophüls [1948]
Eyes Wide Shut - Stanley Kubrick [1999]
Peeping Tom - Michael Powell [1960]
Benny’s Video - Michael Haneke [1992]
Sex, Lies and Videotape - Steven Soderbergh [1989]
Caché - Michael Haneke [2005]
Death in Venice - Luchino Visconti [1971]
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Can you think of more great films, that include voyeuristic elements or deal with this theme? Will add your suggestions to this post.
Orson Welles
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Can someone contribute any information to this picture?
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EDIT:
Orson Welles sprained his ankle on a flight of stairs during his confrontation with Getty and had to direct from a wheelchair.
Thanks to projectedimages :)
Grace, the main character in Lars von Trier’s Dogville, was strongly inspired by Bertolt Brecht’s ‚Pirate Jenny‘, a well-known song from ‚The Threepenny Opera‘.

This is a literal translation of the original German song, not the Marc Blitzstein English version of 1954, which is usually the version sung in English.
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Gentleman, today you see me washing glasses
And I make the beds for everyone.
And you give me a penny and I quickly thank you
And you see my rags and this shabby hotel
And you don’t know who you’re talkin’ to.
I saw America in pictures and movies, and it was sort of a utopian place compared to where I lived. All I ever wanted was getting there. American music was the opposite of everything I heard in my own country, and there was rhythm and fun—the notion of fun was completely strange to me. Everything I really liked was from this mythical place called America.
The French scientist E.J. Marey invented his ‚fusil photographique‘ in the year 1882. This ‚photographic musket‘ used a single camera to take 12 images a second on a revolving photographic plate. Marey used this camera to study the movements of flying animals, later the movements of human beings.
Little did he now, he invented the direct ancestor of the movie camera - which today shoots 24 frames per second using a revolving magazine of film.