The Criterion Collection Newsletter

I have chosen ten titles from the Criterion Collection not because they are my favorites or necessarily the most important, but because they mean a lot to me personally and bear some relationship to my filmmaking career and the making of Overlord. My list is in no particular order.

Nanook of the North, because I started out as a documentary filmmaker and looked at all of Robert Flaherty’s films, including Louisiana Story, while I was preparing Overlord. Also because The Innocent Eye: The Life of Robert Flaherty is a must-read for anyone interested in the birth of documentary filmmaking.

Black Orpheus, because in 1958 it showed the power of visual narrative. It exploded across the screen and was an international success. I liked the originality of setting this legend against the Rio Carnival.

Cries and Whispers, because it was so disturbing and beautiful at the same moment. Photographed by Sven Nykvist, whose work came the closest to John Alcott’s brilliant use of available light. Alcott photographed my films Overlord, Little Malcolm, and The Disappearance.

M. Hulot’s Holiday, because I’ve seldom laughed so hard in a film and because I got to know Jacques Tati in the late sixties, around the time he was making Playtime and I was just beginning to direct.

The Killers, because it’s Don Siegel and film noir at its best. And because Lee Marvin is outstanding in it. Marvin became a friend after The Dirty Dozen [in which Cooper was one of the dozen]. Sadly, I failed to make a political thriller that Lee and I wanted to do, which had been coscripted by Christopher Hudson, with whom I co-wrote Overlord.

Night and Fog, which I first viewed at the Imperial War Museum while ensconced in the film archive researching for Overlord. It had a huge effect on me at the time, and I still regard it as one of the most profound films about the holocaust. Particularly in light of the fact that it was made so soon after World War II and was hauntingly structured by Resnais as a documentary.

Ali: Fear Eats the Soul. In 1974, when I was at the Berlin International Film Festival with Little Malcolm, I met Fassbinder. He was then making Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, which I think is one of his best films. It’s a wonderful observation of social and racial prejudice, and of youth and age.

The Leopard, because it’s Visconti, one of my favorite directors and one I wish I had met. Brilliantly acted by Burt Lancaster, who modeled his performance on his nobleman director, Visconti.

The Battle of Algiers, for its originality, objectivity, and political power. I studied it while I was preparing Overlord. I admired a quote of Pontecorvo's: “Technically U.S. directors keep improving. But this technical expertise hides an emptiness that keeps getting bigger. They’re very good at saying nothing.”

Ashes and Diamonds. Andrzej Wajda’s films had an enormous influence on me as I began writing and directing. I had lunch with him at the National Film Theatre in London, after he had just made Everything for Sale, a film I loved. It was Wajda’s tribute to Zbyszek Cybulski, his friend and the star of Ashes and Diamonds, who died young. In Ashes, Cybulski plays a resistance fighter stranded by a sellout peace. His broodiness and manner seemed to mourn James Dean.

Army of Shadows
Sansho the Bailiff
The Third Man
Vengeance Is Mine


Springtime is here, yet in New York things are still rainy and cold—with the occasional snow flurry. Somehow this seems appropriate, given our April lineup at Criterion. This month we’re offering hard looks at humanity’s darkest corners, from Mathieu Kassovitz’s Cannes Film Festival–feted La haine (Hate) to Stuart Cooper’s rediscovered World War II masterpiece Overlord to Burt Lancaster planning a prison break in Jules Dassin’s Brute Force. So don’t put away those winter clothes just yet! Also, we wanted to let you know that our special edition of Kon Ichikawa’s astonishing documentary Tokyo Olympiad is now out of print. If you haven’t yet seen it, check with your favorite retailer—there may be a few copies left! You can read more about the film below in From the Collection. As always, happy viewing!		I have chosen ten titles from the Criterion Collection not because they are my favorites or necessarily the most important, but because they mean a lot to me personally and bear some relationship to my filmmaking career and the making of *Overlord. My list is in no particular order. Nanook of the North, because I started out as a documentary filmmaker and looked at all of Robert Flaherty’s films, including Louisiana Story, while I was preparing Overlord. Also because The Innocent Eye: The Life of Robert Flaherty* is a must-read for anyone interested in the birth of documentary filmmaking. *Black Orpheus, because in 1958 it showed the power of visual narrative. It exploded across the screen and was an international success. I liked the originality of setting this legend against the Rio Carnival. Cries and Whispers, because it was so disturbing and beautiful at the same moment. Photographed by Sven Nykvist, whose work came the closest to John Alcott’s brilliant use of available light. Alcott photographed my films Overlord, Little Malcolm, and The Disappearance. M. Hulot’s Holiday, because I’ve seldom laughed so hard in a film and because I got to know Jacques Tati in the late sixties, around the time he was making Playtime* and I was just beginning to direct. The Killers, because it’s Don Siegel and film noir at its best. And because Lee Marvin is outstanding in it. Marvin became a friend after The Dirty Dozen [in which Cooper was one of the dozen]. Sadly, I failed to make a political thriller that Lee and I wanted to do, which had been coscripted by Christopher Hudson, with whom I co-wrote Overlord. Night and Fog, which I first viewed at the Imperial War Museum while ensconced in the film archive researching for Overlord. It had a huge effect on me at the time, and I still regard it as one of the most profound films about the holocaust. Particularly in light of the fact that it was made so soon after World War II and was hauntingly structured by Resnais as a documentary. Ali: Fear Eats the Soul. In 1974, when I was at the Berlin International Film Festival with Little Malcolm, I met Fassbinder. He was then making Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, which I think is one of his best films. It’s a wonderful observation of social and racial prejudice, and of youth and age. *The Leopard, because it’s Visconti, one of my favorite directors and one I wish I had met. Brilliantly acted by Burt Lancaster, who modeled his performance on his nobleman director, Visconti. The Battle of Algiers, for its originality, objectivity, and political power. I studied it while I was preparing Overlord. I admired a quote of Pontecorvo's: “Technically U.S. directors keep improving. But this technical expertise hides an emptiness that keeps getting bigger. They’re very good at saying nothing.” Ashes and Diamonds. Andrzej Wajda’s films had an enormous influence on me as I began writing and directing. I had lunch with him at the National Film Theatre in London, after he had just made Everything for Sale, a film I loved. It was Wajda’s tribute to Zbyszek Cybulski, his friend and the star of Ashes and Diamonds, who died young. In Ashes*, Cybulski plays a resistance fighter stranded by a sellout peace. His broodiness and manner seemed to mourn James Dean. Army of Shadows Sansho the Bailiff The Third Man Vengeance Is Mine

STREET DATE: 4/17	When director Mathieu Kassovitz got the green light to start production on La haine (Hate), he searched the outskirts of Paris for a public-housing development that would provide the proper backdrop for the film, as he explains on the DVD’s commentary track. Many of the town administrations rejected Kassovitz’s request, because of the explosiveness of his subject matter, so it was a relief when the suburb of Chanteloup-les-Vignes finally agreed to let him shoot there. Yet he had to present La haine under the less provocative working title Droit de cité (Rights of the Project) in order to appease the authorities. Subsequently, he and part of his cast and crew lived in the housing project for six weeks, prior to the shoot. As newcomers, they ended up the victims of hazing from others in the community, and at one point their apartment was robbed of the few belongings they had brought with them. This experience paid off in the film’s resulting authenticity.
STREET DATE: 4/17	Brute Force’s violence remains as shocking as ever—yet the battles that producer Mark Hellinger had to fight to ensure the film’s rawness were not so easily won, as revealed in correspondence between Hellinger and Joseph Breen, head of the Motion Picture Academy Production Code Office. Breen’s original response to the final draft of the script included objections both predictable (“Omit references to dope,” “Omit the exclamation ‘For God’s sake’”) and absurd (“Avoid any undue emphasis on brutality”). Hellinger, finding this difficult to swallow, proclaimed his film “the target of unjustifiable censorship” and thus sparked an increasingly vicious debate between the two men, which can be read in the booklet accompanying Criterion’s new release of Jules Dassin’s prison melodrama.
STREET DATE: 4/17	As director Stuart Cooper reminisces in his commentary track for Criterion’s release of his World War II saga Overlord, when he first began researching at the Imperial War Museum film archive for war footage to use in his film, he didn’t quite know what he was getting himself into. When he arrived, the head archivist asked him what section he would like to research. “Well, as I’m here, why don't I look at the entire collection.” He said he would come as often as five days a week, all day long. Her response: “Well, if you start on Monday, and you do Monday through Friday, all day, you will get through the archive in about nine years.” This was when Cooper realized the scope of the project that lay ahead of him: the archived footage of World War II, in total, is nearly forty million feet long.

	After the war films The Burmese Harp and Fires on the Plain, and the widescreen color melodrama An Actor’s Revenge, Kon Ichikawa continued his filmmaking journey with this monumental, dazzling spectacle, commemorating (and criticizing) the 1964 Summer Olympics in Tokyo. Ichikawa uses an arsenal of film techniques to depict the joys and anguish of bodily and spiritual strength and endurance in *Tokyo Olympiad*, one of the greatest sports documentaries of all time.

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