oOoBarracuda The godfather of independent cinema and one of the titans of forwarding film as a means of artistic expression, John Cassavetes is a filmmaker, I'm sorry to say, I'm just now diving into. I have been intrigued by the way in which Cassavetes went about his art, acting in films as a means to finance his own and remain independent from the studio system and every creative restriction that brings. Working as few filmmakers have the chance to, Cassavetes was able to take as long as he wanted with each of his films, shooting, editing, and reshooting until he was fully satisfied with the final product. I suppose being involved continuously in another film project coupled with the intimidation to begin watching his work; it's taken me much longer embark on a journey through Cassavetes filmography than I would have liked. In October of last year, I unreservedly fell in love with Brain De Palma's 1978 film THE FURY, and as odd as that bridge is, that film is what pushed me into seeing, at long last, the work made by Cassavetes. The gracefully imperfect feature film debut of Cassavetes' SHADOWS was, apparently, filmed twice. A nearly extinct version screened in 1957 was refilmed and replaced with the 1959 version which I watched. Completed with a minuscule budget using a crew of novice actors Cassavetes was so displeased with the audience reaction to the initial screening that he filmed the second version known today. A title card at the close of the film reveals that SHADOWS was an experiment in improvisation. The story of a family of musicians involved in the beat scene in Manhattan is told lyrically against a remarkable jazz score, flowing between the three family members brilliantly. Benny (Ben Carruthers) and Hugh (Hugh Hurd) vary in their in their commitment to their music and their belief that they can make it on their musical talents, but not in their love and protective instincts of their sister Lelia. Lelia (Lelia Goldoni) is also going through the motions of life until she meets Tony (Anthony Ray) and allows herself to believe this might be the love of her life. The prospect of beginning an inter-racial relationship scares Tony away, however, and her brothers must heal the hurt in Leila's heart. Filmed in beat to the music it is scored with; SHADOWS moves between each character in the film in Capriccio, giving the impression that each person is independent of the other, only for the ending to reveal that each is in sync with the other. Each principal has their individual motivation despite working as a unit. Leila seeks love, Benny is searching for purpose, and Hugh is pursuing confidence. Their family bond is strong, yet Cassavetes brilliantly illustrates the agency of each and their separate stories that beg to be told. The improvisational style and the nonprofessional actors lend to the realism and struggle of both racism and what it means to chase a dream. I was reminded throughout the film, especially during its opening, of Louis Malle's heavily jazz-inspired 1958 feature, ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS. The black and white photography of the light-drenched city streets with the dazzling jazz score and frenetic energy of a young filmmaker show just how radiant the debuts of two very different directors can be. Shadows may not have hit every note, but it is a film that acts as a sublime preview of the brilliance that Cassavetes' capability.

mark.waltz If you wish for the days when New York City was not overcrowded, filled with sleaze and more like the movies, then 1959's "Shadows" is not the vision of Gotham for you. This independently made feature from ground-breaking artist John Cassavettes uses real people to act out the drama of a city that in 1959 was no less complicated than it is today, only free of cell phones.With marquees of the Broadway musical "The Most Happy Fella" and the movie "The Ten Commandments" in the background, the lights of Times Square take on a role as a character in the film as much as the actors speaking the often improvised lines. The plot is similar to things you've seen in movies before (Boy wants girl & vice versa, but various obstacles stand in their way), but these people aren't speaking out of the minds of some Hollywood scriptwriter. They are speaking out of the minds of real people. They talk over each other at times, don't often make sense or have a direction in their communication, but it's dialog you can imagine actually hearing on the streets.The original 16mm photography (now re-mastered to 35mm) is rough and at first jarring to get used to. But once you're inside these character's lives, you feel you are on the streets with them, pushing through the crowds as they do. You also know you're not going to be snapping your fingers like the Sharks or the Jets. The editing is jerky, the background music is that of street sounds, and the camera moves like a turning head going back and forth from character to character. It's all a bit claustrophobic at times, but it's all too real. If there was an Off Broadway state of mind for cinema, this would be the quintessential example. Cassavettes' inventiveness paved the way for such future ground breakers as Francis Ford Coppolo, Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg.As a recommended viewing co-features, take in the more family oriented "The Little Fugitive", "Lovers and Lollipops" and "Weddings and Babies" for a view of New York City that you won't get in the Bowery Boys movies or in "On the Town".

Cosmoeticadotcom In many ways, the filmic career of independent film-making legend John Cassavetes is the polar opposite of someone like Alfred Hitchcock, the consummate studio director. Where Hitchcock infamously treated his actors as cattle, Cassavetes sought to work with them improvisationally. Where every element in a Hitchcock shot is composed immaculately, Cassavetes cared less for the way a scene was figuratively composed than in how it felt, or what it conveyed, emotionally. Hitchcock's tales were always plot-first narratives, with the human element put in the background. Cassavetes put the human experience forefront in every one of his films. If some things did not make much sense logically, so be it.One can see this even from his very first film, 1959's Shadows, filmed with a 16mm hand-held camera, on a shoe string budget of about $40,000, in Manhattan, with Cassavetes' acting workshop repertory company, and touted as an improvisatory film. The story is rather simple, as it follows the lives of three black sibling Manhattanites- Benny (Ben Carruthers)- a trumpeter and no account, Hugh (Hugh Hurd)- a washed up singer, and Lelia (Lelia Goldoni)- the younger sister of both. The film's three main arcs deal with Hugh's failures as a nightclub crooner, and his friendship with his manager Rupert (Rupert Crosse); Benny's perambulations in an about Manhattan with his two no account pals; and Lelia's lovelife- first with a white boy Tony (Anthony Ray), who does not realize light-skinned Lelia's race, even after bedding her; then with stiff and proper Davey (Davey Jones), who may be a misogynist.In the first arc, nothing much happens, except dark-skinned Hugh gets to pontificate on how degraded he feels to be singing in low class nightclubs, and opening shows for girly acts. He dreams of making it big in New York, or even Paris, but one can tell he is the type of man who will continue deluding himself of his meager skill, for the one time we actually get to hear him sing, he shows he's a marginal talent, at best. That Rupert keeps encouraging him gives us glimpses into how destructive friendships work. But, this is the least important of the three arcs…. While this film is better overall than, say, Martin Scorsese's first film, a decade later, Who's That Knocking At My Door?- another tale of failed romance and frustrated New Yorkers, it has none of the brilliant moments- acting-wise nor cinematographically- that that film has. It also is not naturalistic, for naturalism in art is a very difficult thing to achieve, especially in film, although the 1950s era Manhattan exteriors, at ground level, is a gem to relive. While Shadows may, indeed, be an important film in regards to the history of the independent film circuit, it certainly is nowhere near a great film. Parts of it are preachy, poorly acted, scenes end willy-nilly, almost like blackout sketches, and sometimes are cut off seemingly in the middle. All in all it's a very sloppy job- especially the atrocious jazz score that is often out of synch with the rest of the film, as Cassavetes proved that as a director, at least in his first film, he was a good actor. The only reason for anyone to see Shadows is because Cassavetes ultimately got better with later films, and this gives a clue as to his later working style.The National Film Registry has rightly declared this film worthy of preservation as 'culturally significant'. This is all in keeping with the credo of art Cassavetes long championed, as typified by this quote: 'I've never seen an exploding helicopter. I've never seen anybody go and blow somebody's head off. So why should I make films about them? But I have seen people destroy themselves in the smallest way. I've seen people withdraw. I've seen people hide behind political ideas, behind dope, behind the sexual revolution, behind fascism, behind hypocrisy, and I've myself done all these things. So I can understand them. What we are saying is so gentle. It's gentleness. We have problems, terrible problems, but our problems are human problems.' That this film is 'culturally significant' is true, but that truth is not synonymous with its being 'artistically significant'. It is in the difference between these two definitions where great art truly thrives.

ALauff Seven months after a revelatory viewing of Faces, I finally found a rentable DVD copy of Cassavetes' first feature. Shot on a shoestring in Manhattan and in his acting workshop on ad hoc sets, Shadows was the culmination of months of improvisational rehearsals, in which the (mostly amateur) actors bonded with one another, invented their characters, and polished their techniques to give their filmed performances just the right tenor of spontaneous familiarity. This intimate approach led to some incredibly daring work in Faces—i.e., Seymour Cassel cramming his hands down Lynn Carlin's throat in an attempt to revive her from an overdose—just as the actors' utter conviction here yields blisteringly honest moments like Lelia and Tony's post-coital assessment of their relationship and Ben's revulsion at a black woman's touch as a manifestation of his racial confusion and self-loathing. This is a homemade production in the best sense: the out-of-sync dubbing and sound recording, and the granular cinematography and up-close camera setups, build an immersive atmosphere that perfectly suits Cassavetes' nuanced vision of human relationships as perpetual works in progress, marked by desperate emotional fluctuations and wistful attempts at communication and understanding. Charles Mingus's largely improvised jazz score is an ideal complement to the film's vision of living by the moment, a mantra by which Cassavetes worked and seemingly lived.