Traditionally, 1939 is held up as a particularly great year for American movies, maybe even Hollywood’s best-ever. But this month, I’m going to break away just once to take a look at a particular European film to premier 70 years ago this summer, on the grounds that I can’t in good faith talk about all the great cinema of 1939 without so much as glancing at the film from that year that might just possibly be the most absolutely flawless motion picture ever made.
I’m talking of course about Jean Renoir’s The Rules of the Game. The review – though I expect it to be more of a 1300-word blowjob for a man and a film that I couldn’t possibly hold in any higher esteem – goes up on 7/26.