i just watched le charme discret de la bourgeoisie

Samsa · 12-30-2002, 06:22 AM

it was goooood vaary creepy though

those people were so repulsive UGH. especially the pretty insolent alcoholic BITCH. i got so fucking mad when they were in that little tea house and she started insulting the cello "orchestras are eliminating them these days" or whatever the fuck she said, the nerve. what a BITCH. i could have slapped her all the way to hong kong.

Samsa · 12-30-2002, 06:23 AM

i know bunuel lived in france and shit, but for the obscure object of desire he HIRED spanish actors and dubbed them right? why did he do this? why not just make the movie in spanish? did he hate french people? like really...did he make those movies in french to spite the french?

Samsa · 12-30-2002, 06:24 AM

THAT obscure object of desire excuuuse me

Samsa · 12-30-2002, 07:11 AM

The guests arrive at the Senechal home for a dinner party, only to discover that the invitation had been given for the following evening. This miscommunication proves to be the first in a series of unusual events that invariably prevent the Thevenots (Paul Frankeur and Delphine Seyrig), the Senechals (Jean-Pierre Cassel and Stephane Audran), Don Rafael (Fernando Rey), and Florence (Bulle Ogier) from enjoying a meal together. An alternate plan to dine at a local bistro is foiled when a funeral wake for the restaurant owner is held in an adjacent back room. Another dinner party is promptly canceled when the Senechals sneak away from the house for a moment of intimacy, and the guests mistakenly conclude that a raid on the house is imminent. The women meet for drinks, but are informed that the cafe is out of tea and coffee after an unusually busy day. A subsequent dinner party is also disrupted when the military unexpectedly turns up for training exercises at the Senechal estate. Even dreams provide little respite for their frustrated efforts to hold a dinner party, as the guests inexplicably find themselves seated on stage during the performance of a play, or creating an international crisis when the colonel (Claude Pieplu) insults the obscure Republic of Miranda, in front of the ambassador, Don Rafael.

Luis Buñuel creates an absurdly comic and wickedly incisive portrait of the meaningless social rituals and polite hypocrisy of the upper middle class in The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie. By interweaving exaggerated reality with lucid dream sequences, Buñuel blurs the distinction between civilized behavior and social indictment. As in The Exterminating Angel, the inability of the guests to enjoy a defining ritual associated with their class results, paradoxically, from an unwillingness to break from social tradition. In essence, the dinner party provides the means for validating social worth, and therefore, becomes an indispensable, self-perpetuating event for the guests. But inevitably, like the repeated image of the weary guests walking on a deserted street, it is an endless and incomprehensible path that ultimately leads nowhere.

© Acquarello 2001. All rights reserved.

Samsa · 12-30-2002, 07:14 AM

Discreet Charm Of The Bourgeoisie, The
Reissued as the fourth in Rialto's laudable summer series, which has *******d pristine restored prints of Contempt, Nights Of Cabiria, and Grand Illusion, Luis Buñuel's 1972 film The Discreet Charm Of The Bourgeoisie has never looked worse, its drawing-room satire muted by a time in which shredding the upper class is a common affectation. That it's still a great film owes less to its satirical relevance than Buñuel's effortless command over the medium and the brilliance of his design, which mounts reality like a fresh rack of bowling pins. Reversing the premise he had devised a decade earlier for 1962's The Exterminating Angel—about a dinner party that eats and never leaves—Discreet Charm follows a dinner party that convenes on several occasions and never eats. As ambassador to a small South American republic, a post that's most useful for trafficking heroin with his associates, Buñuel regular Fernando Rey leads an amusingly transparent band of revelers from one aborted meal to the next. The miscues begin innocently enough, when the group gathers to dine at a country estate a day earlier than expected. Undaunted, they venture to a local restaurant, where they're appalled to find the proprietor's corpse laid out in an adjoining room. Their subsequent meetings grow increasingly surreal, disrupted at times by a theater audience, an army battalion, and a tearoom that's short on refreshments. But always aware that there were far more bourgeois in the arthouse seats than he could ever skewer on screen, Buñuel visits sharper cruelties on his audience, preying on their false assumptions of the truth by constantly pulling the rug out from under them. At this late point in his career, Buñuel's contempt for the elite had been softened by his own acknowledgment of privilege; in one scene, the hilariously snooty recipe offered for a dry martini is the director's own. So, if The Discreet Charm Of The Bourgeoisie no longer stings as social critique, it still works as a cinematic parlor trick, stacking flashbacks and dream sequences with the giddy surrealism of the endless car pile-up in Godard's Weekend. Moving from vicious satirist to merry prankster, Buñuel lost little vitality in the transition. —Scott Tobias

Samsa · 12-30-2002, 07:19 AM

The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie
(thing) by Starke (12 hr) (print) ? 3 C!s Mon May 20 2002 at 2:05:35

After a martini is meticulously prepared, the chauffeur is invited in. He graciously accepts the drink that he had been offered, and swallows it in a single swig. His job completed, he is dismissed back to the automobile.

"Now that," says Don Rafael, after the chauffeur has left, "is how not to drink a martini"

Released in 1972, Luis Buñuel directed the French film Le Charme Discret de la Bourgeoisie (The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie) when he was 72 years old. He wrote The Discreet Charm with his good friend and partner in screen-writing, Jean-Claude Carriere. He was in a fortunate financial situation, where he could make whatever the hell he wanted, and it paid off, as this is his most successful film. Bunuel was neither mocking his superiors nor his inferiors in this film, but rather the social class that he practically belonged to himself, being a successful filmmaker. In fact, the delicate recipe for a martini given in the film is Bunuel's own.

It begins with a mis-scheduled dinner invitation. We find that neither side could have possibly mis-scheduled this date, yet the date was mis-scheduled, and the invitees came a day early (or the inviters were preparing for the wrong day, depending on how you look at it). Instead, they decide to go out to eat, as one of them knows a good place to find a bite. They arrive to discover that the owner has died, and they don't have the heart to dine in such a gloomy locale.

It goes on in this way, as the group of upper middle class friends is always prevented from actually eating a meal together. Their private lives of drug smuggling, government corruption and adultery aren't great conversation topics, and without the safe haven of a meal, the friends have little to discuss.

Bunuel takes a break in order to play with one of his favorite toys: religion. A man dressed in plain clothing, claiming to be a bishop is invited in by the servant, but kicked out of the house by the bourgeoisie owners. Only when he returns in the traditional garb, is he welcomed in. The only difference between The Pope and a street bum is the hat.

What's real? Who cares? The movie occasionally escapes tricky situations with the classic "It was all just a dream". The plot isn't meant to be analyzed to death, as that wouldn't get you anywhere. Although Bunuel gives us some surrealism, he avoids turning this movie into an Un Chien Andalou (after all, that was 43 years prior). After a while you begin to realize that the unrealistic moments in the movie are no more absurd than the realistic moments.

The title of the film is ultimately appropriate. The characters are charming, but not in the sophisticated way they'd like to be. They're charming like naïve 5-year-olds. Which is still quite charming.

severin · 12-30-2002, 07:22 AM

Quote:

Originally posted by Samsa
...cello...

i actually played the cello (though not very good), from the age of 7 to the age of 10

jenn · 12-30-2002, 07:23 AM

Quote:

Originally posted by severin
i actually played the cello (though not very good), from the age of 7 to the age of 10

I've always wanted to play cello...I'm starting my first lessons this semester.

Samsa · 12-30-2002, 07:24 AM

Quote:

Originally posted by severin
i actually played the cello (though not very good), from the age of 7 to the age of 10

wowee!

severin · 12-30-2002, 07:26 AM

Quote:

Originally posted by melancholia

I've always wanted to play cello...I'm starting my first lessons this semester.

nice, it can be a bitch to play though. i never really got the hang of it and so i dropped it after 3 years. it is kinda cool to carry around though

Samsa · 12-30-2002, 07:29 AM

Quote:

Originally posted by severin
nice, it can be a bitch to play though. i never really got the hang of it and so i dropped it after 3 years. it is kinda cool to carry around though

no, it is most certainly not cool to carry around.

severin · 12-30-2002, 07:38 AM

Quote:

Originally posted by Samsa

no, it is most certainly not cool to carry around.

i think it makes one interesting to carry an oversized guitarbag on your back or in your hands. but maybe that's just me..

jenn · 12-30-2002, 07:42 AM

Quote:

Originally posted by severin
nice, it can be a bitch to play though. i never really got the hang of it and so i dropped it after 3 years. it is kinda cool to carry around though

i'm pretty decent musically. i play guitar, saxophone, piano and harp well...so, i hope i'll be okay at this. if i am- i'm buying a sexy electric one.

Samsa · 12-30-2002, 07:44 AM

Quote:

Originally posted by severin
i think it makes one interesting to carry an oversized guitarbag on your back or in your hands. but maybe that's just me..

oh. bag? as in soft case? i can see that. carryign a hard case is NOT fun, especially when it's across motherfucking campus (hey to the elevator is even rough these days) no. especially when the case is as tall as you. ughhhhh. i need wheels. a case with wheels costs like a thousand dollars or somethign like that. ughhhhhh. i need a CAR.

jenn · 12-30-2002, 07:48 AM

when i was in HS, i had to play at festivals and orchestra shows with my harp. try dragging THAT across campus.

jenniferkate · 12-30-2002, 09:55 AM

Quote:

Originally posted by Samsa
The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie
(thing) by Starke (12 hr) (print) ? 3 C!s Mon May 20 2002 at 2:05:35

After a martini is meticulously prepared, the chauffeur is invited in. He graciously accepts the drink that he had been offered, and swallows it in a single swig. His job completed, he is dismissed back to the automobile.

"Now that," says Don Rafael, after the chauffeur has left, "is how not to drink a martini"

sound advice! now i want to see.

12-30-2002, 06:22 AM	#1
Samsa Banned Location: A theater near you Posts: 7,929	i just watched le charme discret de la bourgeoisie it was goooood vaary creepy though those people were so repulsive UGH. especially the pretty insolent alcoholic BITCH. i got so fucking mad when they were in that little tea house and she started insulting the cello "orchestras are eliminating them these days" or whatever the fuck she said, the nerve. what a BITCH. i could have slapped her all the way to hong kong.

12-30-2002, 07:11 AM	#4
Samsa Banned Location: A theater near you Posts: 7,929	>:O The guests arrive at the Senechal home for a dinner party, only to discover that the invitation had been given for the following evening. This miscommunication proves to be the first in a series of unusual events that invariably prevent the Thevenots (Paul Frankeur and Delphine Seyrig), the Senechals (Jean-Pierre Cassel and Stephane Audran), Don Rafael (Fernando Rey), and Florence (Bulle Ogier) from enjoying a meal together. An alternate plan to dine at a local bistro is foiled when a funeral wake for the restaurant owner is held in an adjacent back room. Another dinner party is promptly canceled when the Senechals sneak away from the house for a moment of intimacy, and the guests mistakenly conclude that a raid on the house is imminent. The women meet for drinks, but are informed that the cafe is out of tea and coffee after an unusually busy day. A subsequent dinner party is also disrupted when the military unexpectedly turns up for training exercises at the Senechal estate. Even dreams provide little respite for their frustrated efforts to hold a dinner party, as the guests inexplicably find themselves seated on stage during the performance of a play, or creating an international crisis when the colonel (Claude Pieplu) insults the obscure Republic of Miranda, in front of the ambassador, Don Rafael. Luis Buñuel creates an absurdly comic and wickedly incisive portrait of the meaningless social rituals and polite hypocrisy of the upper middle class in The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie. By interweaving exaggerated reality with lucid dream sequences, Buñuel blurs the distinction between civilized behavior and social indictment. As in The Exterminating Angel, the inability of the guests to enjoy a defining ritual associated with their class results, paradoxically, from an unwillingness to break from social tradition. In essence, the dinner party provides the means for validating social worth, and therefore, becomes an indispensable, self-perpetuating event for the guests. But inevitably, like the repeated image of the weary guests walking on a deserted street, it is an endless and incomprehensible path that ultimately leads nowhere. © Acquarello 2001. All rights reserved.

12-30-2002, 07:14 AM	#5
Samsa Banned Location: A theater near you Posts: 7,929	hmph Discreet Charm Of The Bourgeoisie, The Reissued as the fourth in Rialto's laudable summer series, which has *******d pristine restored prints of Contempt, Nights Of Cabiria, and Grand Illusion, Luis Buñuel's 1972 film The Discreet Charm Of The Bourgeoisie has never looked worse, its drawing-room satire muted by a time in which shredding the upper class is a common affectation. That it's still a great film owes less to its satirical relevance than Buñuel's effortless command over the medium and the brilliance of his design, which mounts reality like a fresh rack of bowling pins. Reversing the premise he had devised a decade earlier for 1962's The Exterminating Angel—about a dinner party that eats and never leaves—Discreet Charm follows a dinner party that convenes on several occasions and never eats. As ambassador to a small South American republic, a post that's most useful for trafficking heroin with his associates, Buñuel regular Fernando Rey leads an amusingly transparent band of revelers from one aborted meal to the next. The miscues begin innocently enough, when the group gathers to dine at a country estate a day earlier than expected. Undaunted, they venture to a local restaurant, where they're appalled to find the proprietor's corpse laid out in an adjoining room. Their subsequent meetings grow increasingly surreal, disrupted at times by a theater audience, an army battalion, and a tearoom that's short on refreshments. But always aware that there were far more bourgeois in the arthouse seats than he could ever skewer on screen, Buñuel visits sharper cruelties on his audience, preying on their false assumptions of the truth by constantly pulling the rug out from under them. At this late point in his career, Buñuel's contempt for the elite had been softened by his own acknowledgment of privilege; in one scene, the hilariously snooty recipe offered for a dry martini is the director's own. So, if The Discreet Charm Of The Bourgeoisie no longer stings as social critique, it still works as a cinematic parlor trick, stacking flashbacks and dream sequences with the giddy surrealism of the endless car pile-up in Godard's Weekend. Moving from vicious satirist to merry prankster, Buñuel lost little vitality in the transition. —Scott Tobias

12-30-2002, 07:19 AM	#6
Samsa Banned Location: A theater near you Posts: 7,929	>:O The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (thing) by Starke (12 hr) (print) ? 3 C!s Mon May 20 2002 at 2:05:35 After a martini is meticulously prepared, the chauffeur is invited in. He graciously accepts the drink that he had been offered, and swallows it in a single swig. His job completed, he is dismissed back to the automobile. "Now that," says Don Rafael, after the chauffeur has left, "is how not to drink a martini" Released in 1972, Luis Buñuel directed the French film Le Charme Discret de la Bourgeoisie (The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie) when he was 72 years old. He wrote The Discreet Charm with his good friend and partner in screen-writing, Jean-Claude Carriere. He was in a fortunate financial situation, where he could make whatever the hell he wanted, and it paid off, as this is his most successful film. Bunuel was neither mocking his superiors nor his inferiors in this film, but rather the social class that he practically belonged to himself, being a successful filmmaker. In fact, the delicate recipe for a martini given in the film is Bunuel's own. It begins with a mis-scheduled dinner invitation. We find that neither side could have possibly mis-scheduled this date, yet the date was mis-scheduled, and the invitees came a day early (or the inviters were preparing for the wrong day, depending on how you look at it). Instead, they decide to go out to eat, as one of them knows a good place to find a bite. They arrive to discover that the owner has died, and they don't have the heart to dine in such a gloomy locale. It goes on in this way, as the group of upper middle class friends is always prevented from actually eating a meal together. Their private lives of drug smuggling, government corruption and adultery aren't great conversation topics, and without the safe haven of a meal, the friends have little to discuss. Bunuel takes a break in order to play with one of his favorite toys: religion. A man dressed in plain clothing, claiming to be a bishop is invited in by the servant, but kicked out of the house by the bourgeoisie owners. Only when he returns in the traditional garb, is he welcomed in. The only difference between The Pope and a street bum is the hat. What's real? Who cares? The movie occasionally escapes tricky situations with the classic "It was all just a dream". The plot isn't meant to be analyzed to death, as that wouldn't get you anywhere. Although Bunuel gives us some surrealism, he avoids turning this movie into an Un Chien Andalou (after all, that was 43 years prior). After a while you begin to realize that the unrealistic moments in the movie are no more absurd than the realistic moments. The title of the film is ultimately appropriate. The characters are charming, but not in the sophisticated way they'd like to be. They're charming like naïve 5-year-olds. Which is still quite charming.

12-30-2002, 06:23 AM	#2
Samsa Banned Location: A theater near you Posts: 7,929	i know bunuel lived in france and shit, but for the obscure object of desire he HIRED spanish actors and dubbed them right? why did he do this? why not just make the movie in spanish? did he hate french people? like really...did he make those movies in french to spite the french?

12-30-2002, 06:24 AM	#3
Samsa Banned Location: A theater near you Posts: 7,929	THAT obscure object of desire excuuuse me

12-30-2002, 07:48 AM	#15
jenn Minion of Satan Location: new york Posts: 6,325	when i was in HS, i had to play at festivals and orchestra shows with my harp. try dragging THAT across campus.