LAFF: Leopards and Lions

Burt Lancaster and Claudia Cardinale in The Leopard


Christopher Morris' Four Lions

This year's Los Angeles Film Festival truly had something for everyone, and for the true cinephiles, nothing could top the North American Premiere of the fully restored "Il Gattapardo" at the historic Orpheum Theatre. In the age of the multiplex, venues like the Orpheum have all but disappeared, and I don't think I've ever had an experience where the aesthetics of a film and the room it was shown in were so perfectly matched. Following a nearly $5 million restoration, the Orpheum is a gorgeous art deco palace, complete with balcony boxes and a downstairs lounge and bar. The auditorium itself has great sight lines, and the sound was mixed just right the venue's acoustics. The Orpheum has mainly been reborn as a live music venue, so it was a rare treat to be able to see a movie there.

And what a movie! Directed by Visconti, "Il Gattapardo" (translated as The Leopard) is an epic from another age. Released in 1963 and winner of the Palme D'Or at the Cannes Film Festival, the film is an elegiac tribute to a bygone era of decadence. Set in the 1860's, the film's casting of Burt Lancaster as a Sicilian prince seems strange at first, but it's not long before we realize we're watching the actor at the top of his game. In spite of the fact that Lancaster spoke no Italian, he completely inhabits this role and invests it with an unquestionable regal bearing. The language barrier is less daunting than you'd expect, as it was common practice in the Italian film industry to re-record dialogue in post production. Lancaster was not alone in his isolation either, Alain Delon is featured in a major role and only spoke French. Yet somehow, they all understood Visconti's vision and were able to produce a staggering work of art.

The film was shot using the Technirama process, which was Techicolor's answer to widescreen Cinerama. This process required the use of a special camera, where the film would run through horizontally rather than vertically, and the end result was a sharper, more color saturated image. The restorers of The Leopard worked hard to maintain the integrity of this process, and they also consulted with the film's original cinematographer, Giuseppe Rotunno. Very few films exist today that contain such a richness of color and image, and the newly released Criterion Blu-Ray of The Leopard is a transfer from the restored version.

Lancaster's character in the film can see his world of privilege slipping away as the Italian people strive to form a new government. But like the Leopard, he refuses to change, and therefore assures his obsolescence in the new order. The film's famous ballroom sequence, which takes up a full 45 minutes of screen time, is one of the most elaborate party sequences ever committed to celluloid. Hundreds of extras were used (in full costume dress), and the lighting was provided by candles which had to be changed once an hour. Technology has insured that filmmakers don't have to do this kind of painstaking work anymore, which makes the fruits of these labors a wonder to behold. Maintaining his worldview and his dignity in spite of the change brewing all around him, Lancaster's prince literally walks off into the shadows. The ending is both powerful and almost unspeakably sad.

It hardly seemed possible that anything could top the film experience of "The Leopard", but that was before I saw "Four Lions", which proved that if it's done right, comedy can be just as potent as drama.

While Visconti's film depicts a man who refuses to accept a changing social order, the characters in Christopher Norris' "Four Lions" are desperate to change the status quo. Following four muslims living in contemporary London who are hellbent on jihad, Four Lions applies the sharp needle of satire to an extremely sensitive subject.

Combining elements of classic British farce with Kubrickian satire is no mean feat, but Norris pulls it off here. The characters in Four Lions are all varying degrees of stupid. Barry wants to bomb a mosque so that "the moderates will be radicalized" resulting in "Full Jihad"; Faisal is convinced that he can train a crow to deliver bombs at his behest, while the only way that Waj can comprehend what they're doing is to think about the operation in terms of his favorite theme park. Omar, the smartest of the bunch, explains to him that by becoming a martyr, he'll go straight to heaven, much like being able to skip the line for his favorite ride, Rubber Dinghy Rapids.

As the film unfolds, the would be jihadists plans backfire spectacularly. Faisal survives the exploding crow, but is not so lucky when he trips, fully wired, over a sheep. Barry explodes when some poor soul tries to give him the heimlich, and the others meet equally undignified ends with the help of the British police.

Norris doesn't let the western authorities off the hook either. Faced with picking out a terrorist in a bear costume among a field of innocent marathon runners, a London cop guns down a guy in a wookiee costume instead. Another scene shows a suspected terroist being interrogated in a large metal container identified as "the sovereign territory of Egypt." Filled with hilarious dialogue and sharp performances, Four Lions provides a constant stream of laughs while also making you ask serious questions about the so-called war on terror. "Four Lions" won the audience award for best narrative feature at the festival this year; let's hope this will lead to a wider release.

Two completely different but brilliant films, and a fitting conclusion to a fantastic festival.