Change Your Image
shaffarullah
Reviews
El sol del membrillo (1992)
The Truth in Seeing?
Caution: Some spoiler content.
This film feels like a documentary--no highs and no lows-but is executed like a fiction. At the end of the film, for example, the director somewhat blurred the line between documentary (reality) and fiction. The tone of the movie is very flat and very monochromatic but I like the way it captures the creative process and struggle of the artist. The artist's philosophy of doing painting is very technical and rigidly methodical. The dialogue is mundane, uncoached, and true to real life but I think this films works because the formal compactness and control of the subject matter.
The artist is committed to capture the reality of the quince tree under the sun although the weather is not always at his side. His method of painting is somewhat "different" from other painters, as pointed out by one visitor (the Chinese lady) where she tells him that many painters paint their objects from photo. To this, the artist replies that he feels closer to the tree when done that way, that is by drawing the tree from the real source.
As time goes by, the artist is realising no way can he captures the "truth" about the quince tree in the way he wants it to be. In fact, we are shown some of difficulties faced by the artist. For example, we are being shown the windy day thus distorting the stable and rigid position of the leaves. The final blow comes when he sees in one morning the dead quince on the ground.
The artist gives up in his mission at the end and to my surprise, he let himself to become the object of art. This time with him laying on the bed and the film shows the almost finished painting, which is presumably done by his wife. In one scene, the painting and his actual lying on the bed is somewhat close to each other in reality that there is a sense that there's no difference between reality and the created objects. The artist falls asleep when his wife is making some final touch on the painting or (is he dead?). Realising this, the wife leaves him. I got the impression that the artist has given up his work and his life, too.
This film is particularly good at portraying the artist at work without pushing the ups and the downs of the artistic process. There are few memorable scenes; for example, when his old friend visits him and they sing together while the old friend is trying to keep the leave stable and the artist draws it. One scene is good, too, where the Chinese lady and the interpreter discuss with the artist about his work. All these scenes--in fact almost all the scenes-are done with no ups and downs of human life found in narrative-driven films.
Because of the style of Erice's presentation of the subject matter, this film is open to many interpretations. I think Erice seems to suggest that we love to capture everything into what we call art but we can never capture the "truth" of the stuff. The film also suggests filmmaking is also working under the same principal with painting and hence, is defeated in the same manner. To illustrate, it shows film camera, with no operator but replacing the artist's standing point, "capturing" the quince tree at night with the helps of artificial lighting. This is very interesting. We are being shown the artists in the artistic process. Then, we are shown (although somewhat suggestively) the filmmakers in similar process. It's like saying making films and making a drawing is voyeuristic in nature.
Two things happen simultaneously although the film focuses more on the artist. Erice is very restrained and reserved about making clear about the two events that they almost go unnoticed (although I think this is justifiable.) The effect is not something that calls for itself. Neither it is self-conscious. It is very low-key. It is like nothing happens during my viewing of the film. I realised something only when I was done with the film.
Consider some of these things:
The processes: 1. The artist is working on the painting on the quince tree. The film actually shows in quite detail some of the process. 2. At the same time, three workers are renovating the artist's house. The film shows they are doing it in the passing.
The first results: 1. The artist didn't finish the work. 2. The three workers managed to finish their works.
The second results: 1. When the artist decides to stop drawing the quince tree, he plucks the quinces and keeps three of them in his studio, together with the two unfinished stuff (a drawing and a painting of the quince tree) 2. After the workers are finished with the work, one of them plucks the quince and together they eat the quince.
What are these "facts" about if they have meaning at all in the film? What the heck is Erice trying to suggest? Is Erice saying that artist's work is always unfinished or to be finished. Or is Erice saying the artists and the non-artists have different ideas what the objects are supposed to mean in real world? Or whatever he means, is Erice saying we cannot take it very seriously because he just wants to show that the way it is?
I think Erice wants to make a distinction between seeing and looking at. Two differences between seeing and looking away. (1) Seeing (e.g. artists, philosophers, etc): seeing the world in order to know what it is out there and seeing things as they are in reality. Seeing is like penetrating to extract the truth about the objects seen. By contrast, (2) Looking away (e.g. ordinary people): Looking away from the world and things no matter how beautiful and however real or true they are, if any different at all. The quince, for example, can be self-useful to people like the workers and the artist's wife because the quince can be used for many purposes like eating, making into jam, etc. I think the artist belongs to the former while the workers the latter.
This film recalls a natural comparison to Rivette's La Belle Nouseise, another story about the artist's struggle to finish his artistic work. Both rely on a very low-key presentation. Both shows in detail the artistic process. In Rivette's film, the artist is struggling to capture "the essence" of the human body. Erice's film shows the artist trying to contain the truth about natural objects. The ending is somewhat different, though. The artist in Rivette's film decides not to show the finished work to anyone and this is almost anti-climatic (in a good sense, of course) because all the materials point to his desire to finish his once-abandoned masterpiece. In Erice's world, the artist does not finish his work and we know that the artist feels somewhat "upset" about this. Another disturbing thing about El Sol del Membrillo is that his wife and his children know in the passing that the artist does not finish the painting and the drawing but Erice is not concerned to show any dramatic revelation about this thing as though there's no big deal about it.
El Sol del Membrillo is one of 1990s' most underrated films. Highly recommended.
Dancer in the Dark (2000)
Lars Von Trier, Allegory, Non-diegetic Music
Selma in Dancer in the Dark (DITD hereafter) is very much similar to Bess in Breaking the Waves (BTW hereafter). Both die for their loved ones. In DITD, it is Selma's son while in BTW, Bess' husband. In my view, DITD deals with very much the same issue in BTW, although not as obvious as BTW; that is the notion of human sacrifice as embodied by Jesus. Bess dies, Selma dies, and so does Jesus. But they don't die for the sake of dying; rather, they die for the interest of others, for something much greater. Perhaps the only difference between Selma and Bess is their relationships to God: Selma's religious faith is almost non-evident whereas Bess' belief in the power of God is undeniable. Now consider how Selma in DITD and Bess in BTW seem to suggest allegorical relationship with Jesus:
(i) Bess sacrifices her life for her husband. Selma sacrifices her life for her son. Jesus sacrifices His life for human kinds. (ii) The resulting effect: In Bess' part, Bess' husband recovers (miraculously) from the paralysis. In Selma's part, Selma's son would (off-screen) be undergoing an eye-operation to prevent the blindness. In Jesus' part, human kinds are saved.
Hence, seeing BTW in the light of DITD and the possibility of allegorical meaning in DITD reveals that LVT's concern in both films is not so much about Bess and Selma, but of Jesus and His sacrifice. People close to Bess and Selma don't understand the actions taken by both the protagonists. It's not about the logic of their actions but rather, the consequence of their actions. DITD seems to suggest that it's never unreasonable for Jesus to die on the cross for His action is not about His dying on the cross per se, but rather His dying is for something greater. It's a spiritual sacrifice embodied by Jesus. In short, my point is this: If we are to take Selma's motivation of her self-sacrifice as an allegorical extension of Jesus' death on the cross, then there are strong reasons why Selma does what she does: why Selma is willing to die. Or why Bess wants to die for her husband. LVT exploits the female protagonist (Bess and Selma) as allegorical Jesus!
There is one scene that seems to reveal the possibility of divine presence in DITD--the scene where God may be testing Selma's faith in self-sacrifice. This happens before she would be transferred to a waiting room for the execution. When she complains to the prison security how quiet it is in the cell but sometimes she hears music from the ventilation shaft, the prison security tells Selma that the sound that she hears could be originating from the sermon. After the prison warden leaves, Selma stands up in the bed and seems to listen through the ventilation shaft to almost godlike music. This is the key scene in DITD. She later fantasizes a musical, singing out her grief and joy. I don't know if Selma's talking to God (via doing musical) or she's just happy that God is listening to her. But the effect of this "divine" encounter comes in form of a "good" news: The prison security, herself happy with the news, tells Selma that she gets the stay. But Selma later rejects the possibility of new trial as she founds out that the money paid to the lawyer is actually from the money for her son's operation.
Suppose one accepts the explanation that this scene could be interpreted as God's intervention of Selma's fate or God listening to Selma's (musical) prayers, a line of questions may be provoked: What is the relationship between the "divine" scene in the Selma's cell and Selma's rejection of a retrial? If God wants to help Selma from injustice, why does Selma reject God's help? There could be one way to answer this. If Selma opts for a new trial, she would most probably escape the death penalty. But given the fact that Selma's only concern is to save her son and her son must undergo the eye operation under certain period of time, it is plausible for Selma not to go for a retrial. While there is a strong possibility that Selma's religious conviction may be questionable, God's act of intervening of her possible fate is actually a test of Selma's faith in the sacrifice that she's going to make. The religious revelation is the test of her faith, not to be seen as the divine intervention in changing her fate.
In the controversial The Last Temptation of Christ (1988, Scorsese), Jesus is portrayed as human, having desires and doubts. When Jesus is on the verge of completing His mission, there is a fantasy scene (a dream scene as said by some critics) in which Satan manages to tempt Him or is tempting Him to live a life just like other normal men (e.g. having married and raising children of his own). The Satan, coming in the form of an angel which herself in the form of a female child, tells Jesus that He must now forget that He is crucified and His mission is already completed. At first, Jesus is doubtful but the angel tells Jesus that His Father is no longer mad at Him. So, we are being shown that the possible life He could have in return of His living on earth. Later, Jonas comes to tell Jesus that His place is on the cross and His mission is not yet completed. Jesus, dying and old, then realises that He is being cheated by Satan. The angel reveals itself in the form of fire. Then the scene cuts to the crucifixion scene where at last Jesus utters in joy "mission completed!" Perhaps Selma is very much like Scorsese's Jesus. Her mission is to die, not to live. Thus, the dark-side temptations are ready to deviate her mission (e.g. retrial, the possibility of seeing her son again, etc).
To put Von Trier in comparison, BTW and DITD recall, in retrospective, to the works of Carl Dreyer (1889 - 1968). Like the Passion of Joan of Arc (1928), Day of Wrath (1943), and Ordet (1955--in which the female protagonists die, or rather made to die, for the belief they hol--Breaking the Waves and Dancer in the Dark seem fascinated with similar ideas of female heroinism and religious martyrdom.
I find LVT's appropriation of nondiegetic music very interesting. First off, let's get our terminology right. There are two kinds of film sound: diegetic and nondiegetic. The former refers to any sound that has a source in the movie; e.g. the girl listening to a song on the radio or the music coming out from the pub, while the latter denotes any additional sound which source is outside the film, e.g. the soundtrack and film music. LVT seems to employ the latter category in terms of nondiegetic film music as primary narrative devices in BTW and DITD but he manipulates nondiegetic film music not in the same way Hollywood movies do. Lots of Hollywood/American films depend so much on the nondiegetic film music to give the audience the emotional cue of the movie scenes whereas LVT adopts nondiegetic film music as important as the narrative and the content of the film.
Recall BTW. There is a complete absence of nondiegetic music between the episodes (except for one scene where Bess's husband coming home). Only when LVT stops the episodes and projects panoramic scenes, instead, could we hear the non-dietegic film music (via 1970s soundtrack). Critic James Berardinelli points out that this style interrupts the flow of the narrative and the intensity of the emotions but I believe LVT has numerous options when cutting BTW. First, LVT could follow Berardinelli's comment. But he would most probably have to leave nondiegetic music out of the narrative space completely. The effect, then, could have been more brutally and emotionally powerful. Second, if LVT were a standard American filmmaker, he would have supplied the audience with the nondiegetic music corresponding to its scenes. But this, if done, would have interrupted more greatly the emotional intensity and the narrative tone for BTW seems to rely almost exclusively on the power of the story and nakedness of Bess's emotions. Third, LVT might reserve space for nondiegetic film music. So, instead of employing the standard use of nondiegetic film music, LVT opts for appropriating film music as between the episodes, producing different feelings during the break. The time-lapsed, but almost still panoramic images leave us a sense of space to digest the intensity of camera works and emotions during the episodes, yet, the technical brilliance of the images awes us while the music uplifts us emotionally.
So, for DITD, I would imagine LVT thinking this: "How am I to make a film with lots of musical in it without going washy-washy a la Hollywood?" The musical part in DITD is just the extension of Selma's musical fantasy. In the "traditional" musicals, e.g. Meet Me in St. Louis (1944), Singing in the Rain (1952), The Sound of the Music (1965), etc, we are supposed to suspend our belief in time and space when the people in those films doing musicals. I believe LVT avoids this "illogical" injection into the narrative scenes by opting for fantasy like the ones experienced by Selma's. With this, LVT appropriates nondiegetic musical not as in the "reality" but Selma's fantasy while at the same time exploiting film music into the film narrative without giving up his conceptual scheme of nondiegetic film music. Thus it's not surprising to see in DITD, all the musical parts are just in Selma's imaginations, not in the spatial and temporal primacy independently from our common sense of reality. When Selma is finished with her musical fantasy, we still retain, but not regain, our common sense.
To further differentiate between the reality and the fantasy, LVT employs two distinct colour schemes. In Selma's real world, we see life as it is without any artistic filtering of the things and images in the sense that LVT tries to make the colour as true as to what we experience in the real world. But in Selma's fantasy world or imaginations, the "real-world" colour has gone, replaced by more unrealistic but happier, brighter tone. This seems make sense only in Selma's fantasy as the musicals for her always mean happiness and comfort.
In one scene Selma's admirer tells Selma why in the musical, people suddenly start dancing and singing. He points out that he doesn't do that in real life. Selma nods. Although the Selma's admirer may be mentally child-like in one sense, perhaps we should take his "complain" seriously. Thus it is perfectly sensible to appropriate musicals into Selma fantasizing of things for it is only there could she find comfort even though it's not in the real world.
I don't think DITD is anti-musical as espoused by some critics. If one's idea about anti-musical is the musical protagonist dies off in the end, maybe there's some truth in it. But DITD cannot be seen as anti-musical just because LVT allegedly violates or subverses or terrorises the genre. It is a musical in a traditional sense for as much as LVT wants to give up the standard interpretation of doing musical, he still operates very much under the scheme of the standard Hollywood genres (melodrama and musical). What he does in DITD is to fuse the genres with great cares about the conceptual coherence of both genres. Also, I doubt that LVT's movies are anti-Hollywood. In my view, LVT, ultimately, is very much part of European filmmakers' continuing (and nostalgic) tradition of admiration for Hollywood film genres going back to the French New Wavers in the late 1950s.