Why I chose this: I discovered Ceylan around the same time I saw my first Bela Tarr film. Since then, he has been one of my favourite modern directors. I got Climates on DVD as a Birthday present, but never got round to watching it. This series is turning into a great way to watch DVDs I've had for too long.
Climates stands as another testament to Ceylan's painfully astute understanding of relationship breakdowns. Sitting between the phenomenal Uzak's exploration of a damaged brotherly connection and Three Monkey's examination of a family unit under siege, Climates studies a man-woman (it's not revealed if they are married, unless there was an obvious wedding ring I missed) relationship in its most sorry state.
Ceylan is often lumped into the Contemporary Contemplative Cinema "movement". Although he shares a common approach with a few of his peers — most notably Andrei Zvyagintsev — he has much more in common with the works of Michaelangelo Antonioni. His work demonstrates a profound knowledge of modern society's effects on human relationships, which makes his films very easy to connect with, if you can get past the slow pace.
Ceylan's choice to cast himself and his wife as the main characters is both brave and thought-provoking. How autobiographical is this film? The strength and believability of both performances gives saddening clues.
Although the cinematography isn't quite as stunning as Uzak, it is used as a storytelling device more effectively. It goes together with the mise en scene to reinforce the emotions and connections present in the shot. Physical space and actor positioning is used to show emotional distance between characters and depth-of-field is altered to show disassociation with a character's surroundings.
Music is used sparingly and is all connected to the diegesis in clever ways (cf The Big Lebowski). It sometimes borders on manipulative depressiveness, but never quite crosses the boundary and so remains sincere. However, the weather changing to fit the mood of the scenes sometimes feels fake and obvious, but this doesn't heavily detract from the experience.
The characters feel very real and well developed, and the presentation is painfully honest, but I still didn't find the film to be as great as Uzak or Three Monkeys. Perhaps the main character's boorish insensitivity prevented me from properly connecting with him, or his wife's childish aloofness from understanding the original attraction.
I do have a few gripes, but in general, Climates is a great, if depressing, view of the disintegration of love and how it still leaves pieces of itself behind. Perhaps not necessary viewing, but definitely worth a watch for fans of Ceylan's other work or of slow, humanist cinema in general.
Also recommended from Turkey:
Other films of Nuri Bilge Ceylan (Uzak, Three Monkeys)
Fatih Akin (The Edge of Heaven, Head-On)
Why I chose this: I'm sure I've mentioned Bela Tarr a number of times in this series so far. Some of you may have picked up that he is one of my favourite directors. Having only seen Satantango, Werkmiester Harmonies and The Turin Horse, I jumped at the excuse to watch another.
The best way to watch a Bela Tarr film is with equal amounts of patience and Prozac. No-one else makes films which are quite as long, slow and depressing as Tarr. His 1994 masterpiece, Satantango, consists of around 150 shots where very little happens. It also happens to be seven hours long. The Turin Horse tones it down a bit, restricting itself to 30 shots and a measly three hours. It's a good thing that as well as the languid miserablism, his films are among the most beautiful, hypnotic, subtly absurd and intelligent you will find.
Damnation's themes are dense and numerous. Human absurdity, emotional and physical connections, obsession and relationship roles all feature. devastating bleakness hangs over everything. It is present in the rain, the faces of the characters and the black-and-white images. The scene which I think ties all of these together and has the most emotional impact is the main character talking about his previous relationship with a joyous girl, which ended in her suicide. His descriptions created vivid, colourful pictures in my head, where the colour slowly faded as the happiness fell from their relationship.
The photography is outstanding, consisting of very long shots which track over space at a crawl. Often, the camera would start facing a wall, or the ceiling and I would try to guess just what it would do next; I was almost always wrong. The lighting is stark, striking and effective, evoking film noir at its best. The glacial pace of the shots and editing allow the viewer to drink in every detail of the frames and bask in the atmosphere.
Mihaly Vig's music is as excellent as in his other films (although his genius in The Turin Horse is perhaps the pinnacle of his achievement). It switches between ironically upbeat folksy tunes and melancholic melodic meanderings. The jet-black humour and ultra-bleak tone are both strengthened by its presence.
Tarr's film world is, as ever, unplaceable. It seems to at once exist in the past — a mix of 50s clothes and 70s hairstyles perhaps? — and some future circa the apocalypse. This adds to the absurdity and bleakness of the film and creates a truly unforgettable setting.
Many of the details are left to the viewer's imagination, so everyone's interpretation of certain elements will be different. For example, who is the poetic old woman with the umbrella who pops up every now and again? For me, she seemed like a remnant of a God who has long forsaken this land (hence the title). Others may think I'm talking rubbish; I'll let you decide.
If you have watched a film and thought that it was "too slow", this film probably isn't for you. If you want a well developed story, look elsewhere. But if you are patient, appreciate deep thematic exploration and want an unique experience, then Damnation and it's sister films are near unparallelled.
Also recommended from Hungary:
All other Bela Tarr films
Miklos Jancso (The Red and the White, The Round Up)
Marcell Jankovics (Feherlofia)
Why I chose this: I am a huge fan of a number of directors who have been clumped under the so-called Contemporary Contemplative Cinema aesthetic. Chantal Akerman falls under the same banner, but is a director who's works I am unfamiliar with. I put off watching Jeanne Dielman due to its length and reputation, but felt that the empty Belgium review was calling for it.
I like to think when I'm watching films. If I'm not thinking, I often grow bored and fidgety. Films can generally get away with not making me think if they have a particularly excellent atmosphere, but generally I like them to present an interesting matter, explore it and move at a pace slow enough for me to digest the content and mull over it. It is for this reason that where many would see Jeanne Dielman as the most boring, pretentious "film" they know of (perhaps rivalled only by Sátántangó), I see it as a beautiful, hypnotic and cerebral work of art.
Coming in at a whopping 3 1/2 hours, Jeanne Dielman is as heavy on your scheduled as it is light on plot. The hours we witness map over three days in the titular character's boring, sterile life as she washes dishes, polishes shoes, makes dinner and turns the odd trick to bring in some money. Most of these events play out in real-time, shot with a static camera, and are repeated with slight variation over the diegetic days. Viewers who aren't used to the glacial, contemplative style of film-makers such as Tarr, Sokurov and Weerasethakul will most likely feel bored, frustrated and alienated by the pace and ultra-subtle thematic explorations, but those with patience and an appreciation of the art will be rewarded with a cinematic experience like few others.
There is a very good reason for the painful presentation of the content. The normality of the tasks which Jeanne executes coupled with the pace heightens the viewer's awareness to the small details of her life and the small variations over the days. Where someone forgetting to turn on a light in the hallway wouldn't even register to the audience in most films, here it is a huge red warning light of things to come.
Akerman's main aim is to depict the unrelenting tedium which many women become trapped in (or did in 1975). It is not only Jeanne who is a victim of this; the old woman in the post office and cashier in the shop where replacement potatoes are bought both seem to be in the same near-comatose state. It is suggested that decisions for these women are largely made by other more vital people, most obviously in the butcher-shop conversation and Jeanne's meatloaf. Although viewers may disagree with either the content or the way in which Jeanne deals with it, the way Akerman puts across her message is still impressive.
Delphine Seyrig is wonderful as always and a rather interesting choice. On one level, Seyrig has always been a women's rights activist, so it is both ironic and fitting that she plays the role of Jeanne. On another, this woman who has been described as the thinking-man's sex symbol is reduced to the most painfully normal woman possible. Also interesting to note (or at least it was when I was on a particularly abstract thought train during the film) is the difference in the treatment of time between this film, where it is concrete and hyper-real, and some of Seyrig's other films, such as Last Year at Marienbad and Daughters of Darkness, where it is transparent and out of reach.
Jeanne Dielman is a very esoteric film, but those which can appreciate the deliberate pace and subtle build-up may find a new favourite.
Also recommended from Belgium:
Man Bites Dog
Rosetta
