In Kazuo Ishiguro‘s great novel, The Remains of the Day (1988), not much goes on between the butler Stevens and the housekeeper Miss Kenton. They are friends, yes, but there is still a breakdown here in social interaction, human connectedness, which coincides with a larger moral breakdown in the characters’ milieu. Stevens’s employer, Lord Darlington, the rich host of gatherings for world officials, is deceived enough by pre-World War II Germans to become anti-Semitic and anti-democracy. He wants two Jewish staff members to be dismissed from their jobs. Miss Kenton is appalled, Stevens is not—for he is perfectly loyal to Lord Darlington.

The subject, the question, of “dignity” in the novel is no longer very interesting, though I think the subject of loyalty still is. Fresher, even so, is the theme of the passage of time which produces for both an individual and a nation “the remains of the day” (before the day dies). Be careful of a coming remains of the day—a message I give to America as it too displays Leftist anti-Semitism (ignored by the media) and other unfortunate things.

In Kazuo Ishiguro‘s great novel, The Remains of the Day (1988), not much goes on between the butler Stevens and the housekeeper Miss Kenton. They are friends, yes, but there is still a breakdown here in social interaction, human connectedness, which coincides with a larger moral breakdown in the characters’ milieu. Stevens’s employer, Lord Darlington, the rich host of gatherings for world officials, is deceived enough by pre-World War II Germans to become anti-Semitic and anti-democracy. He wants two Jewish staff members to be dismissed from their jobs. Miss Kenton is appalled, Stevens is not—for he is perfectly loyal to Lord Darlington.

The subject, the question, of “dignity” in the novel is no longer very interesting, though I think the subject of loyalty still is. Fresher, even so, is the theme of the passage of time which produces for both an individual and a nation “the remains of the day” (before the day dies). Be careful of a coming remains of the day—a message I give to America as it too displays Leftist anti-Semitism (ignored by the media) and other unfortunate things.

Arthur Bishop in the Michael Winner picture, The Mechanic (1972), is a hitman and a moral eunuch. The flick is a Charles Bronson vehicle but, regrettably, he and Jan-Michael Vincent act their parts poorly. Further, the thing makes little sense, which is a shame given how plainly enjoyable it often is, as witness a lively motorcycle chase. Or the assassination and shoot-out action in Naples, Italy. The film, to sum it up, is a tastefully made failure about hard-nosed men.

In Roman Polanski‘s 1962 Polish feature, Knife in the Water, a painful tension exists between a vain sportswriter (Leon Niemczyk) and his wife (Jolante Umecka), who nevertheless wish to entertain themselves on a sailboat outing.  To be sure, theirs can often be called an adult marriage, for they can be good to each other, whereas the unexpected game the sportswriter plays with a young hitchhiker (Zygmunt Malanowicz) he invites to the outing is merely childish.  The sportswriter sees the chap as a challenge to his manhood.  Out of envy, they try to outdo each other in manliness, and a secret understanding exists that if the hitchhiker ever gets the chance to make love to the sportswriter’s wife, the sportswriter will be instantly UNmanned.  The Niemczyk character has no reason to suspect the youth of wanting to do this, and yet . . . suppose it’s true.

Despite some filler, Knife in the Water is artistically solid.  Its script was written originally for the screen and its cast is soundly fine.  Both shots and editing look great in a sequence such as that in which the sportswriter punches the hitchhiker and he stumbles back onto the boat’s sail.  The Jolante Umecka character anxiously but futilely tries the save the youth from the water, for he has falsely told the married couple he cannot swim.  Into the lake he goes, with Umecka crying out to her husband and Krzysztof Komeda‘s insinuating music arising.  Here we have an example of written and directorial splendor.

(In Polish with English subtitles)

Cover of Knife in the Water: Essential Art House

Directed by Joe Wright, The Woman in the Window (2021, on Netflix) seems to have one foot in the 1950s (mainly because of decor) and one foot in the present century. Appropriate, this, because the film owes much to Hitchcock’s Rear Window, and, it could be said, it is the Hitchcockian 1950s it has its foot in.

Cards on the table: I don’t like the screenplay based on a novel by A.J. Finn, but I do relish the brute suspense and Bruno Delbonnel’s intriguing, un-showy cinematography. Amy Adams does very well—she’s relatable and pleasantly forceful—as an agoraphobic child psychologist who witnesses a murder. Gary Oldman, Brian Tyree Henry, et al. are creditable too, and Julianne Moore is a no b.s. master in a small role. The film has a muddled script, but Rear Window is imperfectly written also. Yet Hitchcock’s pic is critically acclaimed and worth seeing. The Woman in the Window, I think, is worth seeing too.