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One of the faults of the auteur theory is that it often fails to account for good directors making bad films. The theory itself, invented by the French (then) film critics Francois Truffaut and Andre Bazin in the pages of Cahiers du Cinema in the 1950’s, believes that a film’s quality can be assured if the singular voice of the director can be detected in the films form, narrative, subject, and structure, thus giving a impression of consistent quality to a film directors’ entire oeuvre. Although many of the basic tenets of this theory are still manifest in film criticism and commentary to this day its obvious flaws are still up for debate. If followed by the book the auteur theory would imply that a good director could never make a bad film, nor a bad filmmaker make a one-off classic. It also often ignores the fact that filmmaking is always a collaborative process: some of the greatest films ever made by, say, Scorsese for example, have been the result of many talents working together rather than one singular voice. Scorsese has arguably never beaten his work in the 70’s when his best films were created in close collaboration with the hugely talented scriptwriter Paul Schrader. Finally, as subject matter, or at least vague, themes are seen as one of the hallmarks of a good consistent auteur, this can discount some of the greatest filmmakers ever. Someone like Stanley Kubrick has always foxed wannabe-auteurists: his films are of a consistent quality but traverse a huge range of styles and subjects, from horror to classic literature adaptations up to war dramas and comedy. Another director who I’ve always thought exposed the myths of the auteur theory in a similar way to Kubrick is Roman Polanski, and the flaws I speak of can be evidenced by his making of the film ‘What?’ in 1972.
Polanski has made some of the greatest and most respected films ever, including the likes of ‘Repulsion’ (1965), ‘Rosemary’s Baby’ (1968), ‘The Pianist’ (2002) and the evergreen ‘Chinatown’ (1974): all vary in subject matter, aesthetic, and tone, but are united by a general quality of direction and a masterful handling of weighty themes. ‘What?’s’ placing in his filmmaking timeline makes it seem all the more like an oddity by a brilliant yet inconstant talent, coming as it did 4 years after ‘Rosemary’s Baby’ and just 2 before ‘Chinatown’, in my opinion two of his best films. Compared to his classic modern city-based birth horror and the later neo-noir classic that made an even bigger star of Jack Nicholson, ‘What?’ seems like an embarrassing footnote, the work of a director knowing that he is on top of his game and so cutting loose slightly, making something that looks like it may have been fun for him, but ultimately, I found to be quite annoying. ‘What?’ is indeed one of Polanski’s lesser-seen and less discussed films, although since its seventies release has built up something of a cult following.
In short, the film is a kind of sex farce set in a sumptuous Italian villa. Sydne Rome plays Nancy, an American girl backpacking though Italy whilst writing poetry and journal entries in her diary, using her experiences as fodder. In the opening scene she innocently accepts a lift from three undesirable looking men who quickly attempt to rape her. However, she struggles free as during the confusion one of the men loses his glasses and accidentally rapes his friend instead, a humorous end to a distressing situation that is rather uncomfortably played as a farce. This dismissive and silly approach towards sexual deviancy sets the tone for the rest of the film. During this sequence Nancy’s t-shirt is ripped and remains that way throughout the rest of the film. Every attempt she makes to cover herself up is eventually snatched away thus leaving her constantly half naked- in this way it appears that Polanski, as director, is exploiting Sydne Rome as much as the male characters in the film do. As her sexual humiliations and abuses increase, Nancy never really seems to register with them, writing in her diary in a detached and sober manner despite her experiences becoming increasingly unbelievable and nasty.
She flees from the attempted rape into a plush Italian villa filled with modern art and antique furniture where she calmly retires to a seemingly deserted bedroom, as a male figure watches her undress before she sleeps. The figure turns out to be one of the many grotesque male characters who populate the villa, namely Alex, played by the legend of respectable Italian cinema Marcello Mastroianni: his iconoclastic performance here is one of the films few pleasures. He is an incredibly sleazy man who sports a extremely dodgy seventies moustache, spends a lot of the movie in nothing but a white dressing gown and dark glasses, speaks English in a heavy Italian accent, and gets kicks from crushing ping pong balls with his bare feet. Over breakfast he informs Nancy that he “admires her tits” and “used to be a pimp… but definitely not a queer”. Considering his lofty status in Italian cinema at the time, namely as Fellini’s onscreen surrogate in two of the greatest films of the sixties, ‘La Dolce Vita’ (1960) and ‘8 ½’ (1963), it is actually quite a perverse joy to see him sleaze his way around a film that so resolutely attempts to be as trashy as possible, at least in its narrative and subject matter. In fact, it is almost tempting the see the ex-pimp Alex as a heavily aggrandized take on his character Marcello in ‘La Dolce Vita’, a trashy celebrity journalist given to libertine-esque excess. At the end of that film Marcello had given up any attempts at becoming a serious writer and found himself at a high-class orgy: it is not hard to picture his character here as an extreme exaggeration of what Marcello may have become in later life. Polanski himself takes on a role that is considerably bigger than the cameos he allowed himself in films such as ‘Chinatown’ and ‘Repulsion’. Here he plays Mosquito, so called because he likes to “sting people with my big stinger”, a rather lame double-entendre that refers to a strange harpoon style gun he carries around with him. Like the rest of the male characters, he is an extreme parody of sleaze, and several camp English residents of the villa only make matters worse, their accents and appearance (bad seventies mullets) recalling the English spoof sex films Confessions Of… series starring Robin Askwith, or even worse, Benny Hill, especially so during the many lengthy scenes which involve them lasciviously chasing Nancy around. All in all, these are not the kind of references you’d expect to pick up from a director who can readily produce art-house films of the highest quality.
In terms of narrative the film is episodic and slow moving with very little dialogue. While this works for a lot of art films, the subject matter and tone of parody in ‘What?’ renders the film as formless and plodding, a bad joke taken too far. Whilst some of the episodes, such as a naked Nancy being rudely awaken by a perverted doctor only to wind up playing classical piano with him, are almost pleasingly surreal, other scenes are instantly forgettable. The most memorable encounter is so purely because of the previously mentioned use of Mastroianni in a way that belies his status as an art-house film star heavyweight. In his apartment at the top of the villa his character dons a tiger skin and asks Nancy to whip him. She is initially reluctant, asking him if he’s serious, to which he replies, “do I look like I’m joking?” He then slaps her until she obliges in whipping him, and they begin to make love.
While the narrative and structure may be lacking, one thing that can be said of the film is that it is beautifully shot. The villa and its surrounding beach provide an excellent backdrop for cinematographers Marcello Gatti and Giuseppe Ruzzolini who capture the action in long steady takes that reassuringly reveal that while the master Polanski may have slipped up in his choice of subject matter and structure, he is at least still good enough not to make a film look badly directed. If anything, the slackness in other areas of the production only highlights the brilliance of the camera work and general direction. The music choices also add some much-needed elements of class: Moonlight Sonata makes a regular appearance on the soundtrack as well as the classical pieces Nancy and the doctor play twice on a grand piano. Still, it is not enough to totally save the film which still has an air of being trash, albeit elegantly shot trash.
Perhaps I am unfairly judging ‘What?’ against Polanski’s more respectable oeuvre. Maybe if it had been made as a one-off movie by a nobody director (again something discounted by the auteur theory) I’d be hailing it as some kind of kitsch camp classic of the seventies, but then again, it’s too well shot to be mistaken as a pure exploitation film or anything less. Either way it is still a Polanski film, one made when he should have known better considering his brilliant work from around the same period. This point brings me back again to the auteur theory. ‘What?’ proves that a great director, even one at the top of his game, can still make a less-than-great film should his creative urges be allowed to stray too far out of control. What Polanski was trying to achieve by making this film is puzzling, although some have suggested that it was a parody of porn films: this does not ring true with me though, as the film is too artfully shot to be successful in this regard, and porn films are hardly a worthy target for such a talented director, being as they are already laden with parody and pastiche. Strangely though, some of the events in the film recall large events in Polanski’s life in an uncomfortable way, and only adds to the sour taste left by a viewing of the film. Polanski’s fiancée Sharon Tate was famously murdered in the director’s home by the Manson family after being captured and tortured, an event that shook the entire nation as it did the director himself. That he should flippantly make a film about a woman effectively being imprisoned and sexually ridiculed in a house just a few years after the event is puzzling indeed. More unsavoury is the fact that in 1978 Polanski would find himself a fugitive from the USA to this day after taking a plea bargain following accusations of unlawful sex with a 13-year-old girl. He has forever stated that it was a set-up while the girl’s mother claims that it was a case of grooming. While it would be unfair to retrospectively judge a film by the directors’ actions since its production, knowledge of this very public case only sours what takes place in ‘What?’ Still, the films main faults lie in its subject matter, its plodding and formless pace, its cheap and trashy atmosphere, and the way it exposes a great director as being far from a consistently engaging auteur.
Country: Italy/France/West
Germany Budget: £
Length: 114mins
Filmography:
‘8 ½’, 1963, Federico Fellini, Cineriz
‘La Dolce Vita’, 1960, Federico Fellini, Riama Film
‘Chinatown’, 1974, Roman Polanski, Paramount Pictures
‘The Pianist’, 2002, Roman Polanski, R.P. Productions
‘Rosemary’s Baby’, 1968, Roman Polanski, William Castle Productions
'Repulsion’, 1965, Roman Polanski, Compton Films
Pub/2009
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