Watching John Cassavetes debut film is a strange experience, even if you've seen improvisational films before.
The first thing you notice is it's roughness. Right off, it's obvious some of the characters are screwing up their lines. But then you step back from the situation, as you sink deeper into these people's intimate exchanges and you ask yourself: "Do I ever stumble over MY words?" The answer of course, is sure, we all do. It's unfortunate that most of the gaffes in this respect come early in the picture, because, by about twenty minutes, you've sunk so deep in you wouldn't know it if a bomb went off behind you.
The next thing you notice...or maybe you notice it hours or days after the film ends, is that you never saw any substantial plot, yet the themes and the poetry of the dialog and characters never leave you. In fact, the treatment of the role race plays in the everyday lives of these characters is always there, but it's so ephemeral that even they aren't aware of how it's informing their opinions of themselves, their self-consciousness, their perceived status, or the fate of their relationships.
The title is appropriate because you get a full spectrum of blacks, whites, and grays...and not just in the skin pigmentation of the characters. Leila Goldoni (truly remarkable here) is an afro-American/Caucasian, her two brothers are white and dark afro-American. The irony is that they exist in what is undoubtedly the "hippest" most tolerant atmosphere of the time...beat-driven upper east-west Manhatten...and there are still conflicts within and around themselves.
I don't think I've ever seen a movie with such a subtle delivery or technique. It's a lot like absorbing a really great piece of gallery art and then just nodding off in bliss as you think back to the images it evoked days later.
Great mastering and extras on the Criterion disc. Arguably the first truly experimental independent film ever made.
The first thing you notice is it's roughness. Right off, it's obvious some of the characters are screwing up their lines. But then you step back from the situation, as you sink deeper into these people's intimate exchanges and you ask yourself: "Do I ever stumble over MY words?" The answer of course, is sure, we all do. It's unfortunate that most of the gaffes in this respect come early in the picture, because, by about twenty minutes, you've sunk so deep in you wouldn't know it if a bomb went off behind you.
The next thing you notice...or maybe you notice it hours or days after the film ends, is that you never saw any substantial plot, yet the themes and the poetry of the dialog and characters never leave you. In fact, the treatment of the role race plays in the everyday lives of these characters is always there, but it's so ephemeral that even they aren't aware of how it's informing their opinions of themselves, their self-consciousness, their perceived status, or the fate of their relationships.
The title is appropriate because you get a full spectrum of blacks, whites, and grays...and not just in the skin pigmentation of the characters. Leila Goldoni (truly remarkable here) is an afro-American/Caucasian, her two brothers are white and dark afro-American. The irony is that they exist in what is undoubtedly the "hippest" most tolerant atmosphere of the time...beat-driven upper east-west Manhatten...and there are still conflicts within and around themselves.
I don't think I've ever seen a movie with such a subtle delivery or technique. It's a lot like absorbing a really great piece of gallery art and then just nodding off in bliss as you think back to the images it evoked days later.
Great mastering and extras on the Criterion disc. Arguably the first truly experimental independent film ever made.