When you see classic films on the big screen, you realise that the cinema is a time machine, a place of historical memory. A medium that makes the past visible through the subjective gaze of those involved in the film, because cinema is always a collective art form. Restoration is first and foremost a process of technical restoration, but it can also be an act of artistic reparation.
A prominent example is the "revisionist" western "Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid" (1973) by Sam Peckinpah, which was released in a mutilated version by the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studio. Roger Spottiswoode, who was responsible for the editing at the time, presented the restored version in Bologna, as originally intended by Peckinpah. "The studio wanted Sam to make a western in the style of 'The Wild Bunch' with lots of slow-motion shootouts, but instead they got an elegiac swan song to the old West," said Spottiswoode at the screening in Bologna.
James Coburn plays the former outlaw Pat Garrett, who has switched sides, become sheriff and is now hunting an old friend Billy. Cattle ranchers and investors want to make the land on the Mexican border profitable, and there is no room for a free radical like Billy the Kid. Kris Kristofferson, best known as an unconventional country singer, plays Billy with a rebellious aura, unabashedly smiling and always one step ahead of his pursuers. It was Kristofferson who brought in Bob Dylan (in the supporting role of the knife- throwing Alias), who also composed the film score. His melancholy ballad "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" became world famous.
In "McCabe & Mrs Miller" (1971), Robert Altman shatters the myths of the western in a similar radical way. Warren Beatty, who also co-wrote the screenplay, rides into a dirty mining town as a mysterious poker player, accompanied by Leonard Cohen's "Stranger Song". McCabe is determined to develop the place, buys three prostitutes in the nearest small town for $200 and gradually expands his business. His bowler hat signals that we are not dealing with a classic western hero here. Finally, Julie Christie appears, who becomes his business partner and is determined to establish a decent brothel where the customers are first sent to the bathhouse.
When McCabe refuses to sell to a major mining company from the city, he becomes the victim of hired killers. He dies alone in the snow while the other inhabitants are busy putting out the burning church. In the cold American north-west, it rains constantly and most of the time the town (filmed in Vancouver) sinks into the mud. Cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond captures images of impressive desolation, reminiscent of films from his native Hungary in the 1950s. Economic progress here is not a process of civilisation, but the violent enforcement of business interests. This is not how classic Hollywood films would have imagined the West.
The restored version of Francis Ford Coppola's "The Conversation" (1974) premiered at the open-air cinema in Piazza Maggiore. According to Coppola himself, it is one of his best films: "It's a personal film based on a screenplay I wrote myself. It represents where I wanted to take my career." Many critics consider "The Conversation" to be one of the key films of the 1970s. It was nominated for several Oscars and won the Palme d'Or and an Honourable Mention from the Ecumenical Jury at the 1974 Cannes Festival. The film drew its relevance not least from the contemporary relevance of the Watergate scandal.
However, watching the restored version one feels a sense of disappointment. "The Conversation" does not live up to the high expectations, and Coppola once again proves to be an overrated director, as he did recently with his late work "Megalopolis". His fellow director William Friedkin and partner in their production company 'Directors' Company' puts it in a nutshell: "'The Conversation' was a confused plagiarism of Antonioni's 'Blow-Up', in which Francis replaced the photographer with a surveillance specialist."
Gene Hackman plays eavesdropping specialist Harry Caul, who believes he is on the trail of a murder conspiracy and gets caught up in a labyrinth of false trails. The story offers a confused mixture of high-tech eavesdropping technology and individual paranoia, in which Harry himself ends up the victim of acoustic surveillance and ends up in a delirious state of mistrust. What carries the film is the strong presence of its central actor Gene Hackman, whose point of view we follow as audience members. The crucial wiretapping sequence is repeated ad infinitum, Harry's fears are expressed in a misty dream sequence. There is hardly any narrative stringency or dramaturgical density to speak of.
In contrast, Brian de Palma's 1984 classic "Body Double", which is often described as an erotic neo-noir thriller, seems surprisingly fresh. At its premiere, the film was considered a flop at the box office and aroused little enthusiasm among critics. Brian de Palma was accused of referring epigonally to Hitchcock, in particular to "Vertigo" and "Rear Window". In the meantime, "Body Double", which also inspired Bret Easton Ellis' "American Psycho", is considered a cult film. The urban landscape of Los Angeles and Hollywood in particular become a hall of mirrors of sex and voyeurism. Nothing is as it seems, and Gloria, whom the protagonist Jake observes through a telescope in her flat, is brutally murdered by her ex-husband with a large-calibre metal drill. Most critics were outraged by the "cheap splatter film", finding it tasteless, vulgar and violent.
Looking back, de Palma said: "Body Double was reviled when it came out. Reviled. It really hurt. I got slaughtered by the press right at the height of the women's liberation movement. I thought it was completely unjustified. It was a suspense thriller, and I was always interested in finding new ways to kill people."
With elegant camera movements, de Palma builds up tension and needs little dialogue to depict voyeurism and violence in Hollywood. The film business and the porn industry seem like communicating pipes.