Even the most committed movie buffs have their gaps in knowledge. There’s only so much time to watch the thousands or millions of worthy movies out there, especially if you (like me) have spent a sizable chunk of that time on the complete filmographies of David Lynch and the Coen Brothers. So despite checking out Faces from the public library several times and keeping Shadows in my Netflix queue for years (even though I no longer have access to my parents’ Netflix subscription), I somehow missed out on John Cassavetes. Strange how the director who essentially established American independent film is more familiar to me as the actor who starred in Rosemary’s Baby and the remake of The Killers. I finally rectified this oversight with his 1974 movie A Woman Under the Influence, starring Cassavetes’s wife Gena Rowlands. I ended up watching the movie more or less by chance – I had recorded it off the Sundance Channel while visiting my mom a few months ago, and she happened to leave it on her DVR. Appropriately, this was the also the first Cassavetes film I had ever heard of, back around middle school when I was first starting to get into film in a serious way.
Even though I hadn’t seen a Cassavetes film before, I was already familiar with his signature tropes from years of reading about his style: improvisation, loose plots, naturalist acting, realistic dialogue. I’ve also read complaints dismissing the framing and camera movements as awkward and sloppy, but I didn’t have a problem with the camerawork. Although there were a few (likely unintentional) blurry shots scattered throughout A Woman Under the Influence, overall the camerawork wasn’t showy or distracting. Interestingly, I rewatched Grey Gardens later the same day I watched A Woman Under the Influence. The Maysles brothers’ camerawork was virtually identical to that of Cassavetes – shifting zooms, off-center framing, moments of blurriness when someone walks in front of the autofocus. It’s always a treat when an ad hoc double feature emphasizes shared elements – in this case, heightening the degree to which Cassavetes was successful at bringing cinema-vérité to the narrative feature film.
While I enjoyed A Woman Under the Influence (if “enjoyed” is the right word), I had higher expectations. With a running time of 2.5 hours, its length and draggy pacing blunt the effect of Rowlands’ mental breakdown. Years of reading about Cassavetes’s movies spoiled the element of surprise, as did the indie films of subsequent decades aping his style. Still, the rawness of the acting and the writing are intriguing enough for me to seek out others. The Killing of a Chinese Bookie airs on the Sundance Channel this week. Although the on-screen guide rates it only 1.5 stars (!), I look forward to seeing how it compares.
Look, Sally, Look 