Back in the late 1970s I flirted with the thesis that all a young man needed to know about life could be gleaned from the Chuck B. Trinity.
That would be Chuck Berry, Charles Bronson and Charles Bukowski. Then Bronson started making crappy "Death Wish" sequels and the whole Chuck thing sort of vaporized. But not my love of Berry and his "School Day," the greatest rock 'n' roll song ever put to plastic.
And certainly not my love of Bukowski, the L.A. skid row poet, short-story author and novelist who came up from the underground to become regarded as one of the post-War era's most important writers.
Charles Bukowski and his boozy, profanity-laced prose would horrify most good Americans, who'd never read the stuff anyway. His writing was barroom conversational, short and punchy, in your face, and usually a lot of fun -- although he could break your heart just like that. A poor man's Hemingway, perhaps. They have about the same number of posthumous books, anyway.
When I started in with Bukowski about 30 years ago, he wasn't much of name anywhere but in the underground. You had to buy these cool indie Black Sparrow books that felt like contraband -- like smuggled-in editions of "The Tropic of Cancer." The ink came off on your hands and the words would rattle around in your brain.
He wrote while listening to classical music. He died in 1994.
The U.S. never really appreciated this Chuck B., but the Europeans loved him and his musings on the hairy underbelly of American life. So it's no surprise that the three major films based on Bukowski's works were made by overseas directors.
Fame finally came at Bukowski all in a rush and he ate it up: There were the documentaries, such as "Born Into This" (2003), "Bukowski at Belleview" (1995), Taylor Hackford's "Bukowski" (1973) and Barbet Schroeder's "The Charles Bukowski Tapes" (1985).
Hollywood managed to go a few rounds with the champ, chiefly Schroeder's deadbeat drama "Barfly" (1987) with Mickey Rourke and Faye Dunaway. Most recently, "Factotum," with Matt Dillon playing Bukowski's alter ego, Henry Chinaski.
In 1980, the Italian director Marco Ferreri turned Ben Gazzara into the Bukowski surrogate in "Tales of Ordinary Madness
." The English-language movie was just released to DVD by Koch Lorber, which last summer included it in a comprehensive Ferreri box set.
." The English-language movie was just released to DVD by Koch Lorber, which last summer included it in a comprehensive Ferreri box set.The poet Bukowski was a legendarily ugly man, scarred for life from acne. Gazzara, hidden behind a beard, seems far too pretty to have played him, but pulls it off. Except for when he sits down at the typewriter. At least Gazzara sells Bukowski's fascination with women and their fascination with him. (Rourke would now be the perfect Bukowski, should he ever return to the role.)
"Ordinary Madness" comes from Bukowski's first book of stories, "Erections, Ejaculations, Exhibitions and General Tales of Ordinary Madness."
It begins with Charles Serking (Bukowski/Gazzara) irritating his college audience at a reading. "Style is the answer to everything," he tells them, drinking from something cheap in a paper bag. (Bukowski loved to heckle his audiences.) Backstage, a baby-doll female fan screws him, then steals the great man's airline ticket after he passes out.
"Ordinary Madness" has a trio of women at its center, notably a gorgeous hooker driven to deface herself. "The whore of an angel who flew too close to the ground and crashed."
After clanging around in his crappy east Hollywood apartment, the writer decides he's had enough of himself and everybody else. He heads downtown to L.A.'s skid row, where he hangs with "the defeated, the demented and the damned." Serking explains: "They are the real people of this world and I was proud to be in their company."
The movie ends far from the grime, on a deserted stretch of beach, with cinematographer Tonino Delli Colli capturing the beauty that the drunken writer beholds, on his knees and looking up.
"Ordinary Madness" should please fans. It also works as a low-friction introduction to Bukowski's world. "Barfly" would be another way to go, if you can get your hands on a copy. (Warner owes us a fresh edition.) Video and audio on "Madness" are OK.
* * * * *
," the story of four middle-aged pals who decide to eat themselves to death.The film that scandalized Cannes has been rereleased by Koch Lorber.
The black comedy uses the actors' real first names for the characters: Marcello (Mastroianni), Philippe (Noriet), Michel (Piccolo) and Ugo (Tognazzi). Adding some sex to the mix is a local schoolteacher, busty Andrea (Ferreol).
The men, longtime friends, are collectively bored and dissatisfied with their successful lives (a judge, a pilot, etc.) Picking their poison, they retreat to a country home and prepare mass quantities of gourmet food. A trio of prostitutes show up for a day, but Andrea ends up servicing all four men after the hookers exit.
"Bouffe" (also known as "Blow Out"), plays like an R-rated "Salo," Pasolini's perverse piece of moviemaking that no doubt was influenced by filmmaker Ferreri. Instead of sadists, we have goofy suicidal existentialists.
Video and audio are OK, considering the age and era. The DVD includes some comments from the late director, taken from a recent Italian documentary.
"Bouffe's" underlying commentary about the self-obsessed and the capitalist consumer society remains fresh, long after the pate has turned.
Comments