Acum cateva zile am vazut Professione Reporter, Zabriskie Point, L'Eclisse si revazut Blowup, toate ale lui Antonioni. Au an uneasiness in montaj, in desfasurarea actiunii, in jocul actorilor, in cadrele luuungi (care te pun la incercare, ca si ale lui Visconti din Moarte la Venetia).
Stranietatea asta, alienarea, nu stiu cum s-o numesc, cred ca vine dintr-o neliniste totala legata de existenta, sensul ei, alegeri etc. Personajele mi se par niste intelectuali care se joaca pe ei insisi. Nu se pun in scena, nu pozeaza -ar fi prea ieftin-, nu sunt ca niste prostute care isi trec degetul prin bucle in speranta ca vor fi vazute si admirate...ci mai degraba se joaca pe sine pt ca se cauta pe sine, incearca sa gaseasca tonul potrivit, actiunea potrivita pt ei. Incearca sa se pozitioneze existential, sa se contureze. Toti se joaca, si partenerul preferat e moartea. Toti sunt aproape nevrotici, parca se zbate ceva nestapanit in ei dar atat. La final simt ca nimic nu e mai clar, mai sigur, mai de incredere. Probabil din cauza zbaterii asteia fara final, Glenn Close spune in Dangerous Liaisons ca intelectualii sunt "intensely stupid". Intensely din cz zbaterii si stupid pt ca nu ajung la nici o cz "definitiva".
Ca si personajele, la fel se cauta si filmul pe sine. Nu exista poveste, sunt fragmente decupate din vietile personajelor, n-au inceput si final (decat grosso modo), nu au determinarea din filmele obisnuite. Filmele lui sunt complet in afara cinematografului conventional ca te si-ntrebi cum de-au fost facute (a se citi finantate).
Scena preferata din Zabriskie Point: scena de dragoste din desert, pare ca totul comunica, totul e posibil, e un moment de gratie. Mi se pare la fel de anticonventional la Antonioni ca oamenii pot comunica, dilema lui nu e legata de singuratatea lor, el e pe un plan mai sus, metafizic.
Scena preferata din Blowup: chitara smulsa din mainile fanilor si abandonata pe strada unde nu mai avea nici o valoare, scoasa din context. Mi-a adus aminte de Sweet & Lowdown si Sean Penn care - cleptoman - fura o scrumiera si o arunca apoi pe strada, dupa ce o priveste ca pe cel mai straniu lucru pe care l-a vazut in viata lui, in totala lipsa de recunoastere. Dar la Antonioni chitara nu e luata din impuls nefiltrat, tot ce se-ntampla e o chitara smulsa si apoi abandonata, totul e o lupta pt o farama de sens dar nimic nu se leaga...
joi, 31 decembrie 2009
sâmbătă, 26 decembrie 2009
Le charme discret de la bourgeoisie
Pentru cine simte nevoia unui pahar cu apa rece turnat peste capetele noastre de imburgheziti iremediabili, e de recomandat Le charme discret...
Incredibil cum se joaca Bunuel cu asteptarile noastre nu doar cinefile, ci de bun simt (ahh, bunul simt/simtul comun)...ne deconstruieste fiecare asteptare de obisnuiti cu cele lumesti, dusi de-acasa...La un restaurant dau peste un priveghi, merg la o cafenea ramasa fara ceai si fara cafea (si nu e Romania), un militar care ar trebui sa flirteze cu burghezele filmului le povesteste cum si-a ucis tatal, la o cina ambasadorul Republicii Miranda o impusca pe gazda (dar e doar un vis) etc.
Tot filmul e o "cavalcada" de vise sangeroase cu fantome care nu reusesc sa impresioneze pe nimeni...personajele sunt burghezi perfecti, mai mult decat perfecti: nevasta prinsa inseland nu e pedepsita, nu vezi scene etc...high middle class-ul pastreaza aparentele in orice situatie...poarta numai discutii de o superficialitate stupefianta (cand o vezi in film, pt ca daca incepi sa te gandesti la discutiile din pauza de pranz, ba chiar la cele cu amicii, nimic nu mai atinge stupefiantul) dar turnate in forma unei politeti de o rotunjime nestirbita; cand sunt amenintati cu arma nu fac scene, nu se isterizeaza, isi pastreaza fetele de burghezi imperturbabili.
Incredibil cum se joaca Bunuel cu asteptarile noastre nu doar cinefile, ci de bun simt (ahh, bunul simt/simtul comun)...ne deconstruieste fiecare asteptare de obisnuiti cu cele lumesti, dusi de-acasa...La un restaurant dau peste un priveghi, merg la o cafenea ramasa fara ceai si fara cafea (si nu e Romania), un militar care ar trebui sa flirteze cu burghezele filmului le povesteste cum si-a ucis tatal, la o cina ambasadorul Republicii Miranda o impusca pe gazda (dar e doar un vis) etc.
Tot filmul e o "cavalcada" de vise sangeroase cu fantome care nu reusesc sa impresioneze pe nimeni...personajele sunt burghezi perfecti, mai mult decat perfecti: nevasta prinsa inseland nu e pedepsita, nu vezi scene etc...high middle class-ul pastreaza aparentele in orice situatie...poarta numai discutii de o superficialitate stupefianta (cand o vezi in film, pt ca daca incepi sa te gandesti la discutiile din pauza de pranz, ba chiar la cele cu amicii, nimic nu mai atinge stupefiantul) dar turnate in forma unei politeti de o rotunjime nestirbita; cand sunt amenintati cu arma nu fac scene, nu se isterizeaza, isi pastreaza fetele de burghezi imperturbabili.
The Tin Drum - Gunter Grass
I've just finished reading it. I read it in English, not in German, however it sounds stupendous, I can only wonder how it sounds in German.
It's one of the greatest books I've ever read, I didn't expect it. It's fantastically poetic and grotesque(my imagination was thrilled with all the metaphors), and realistic (with a sick sense of humor). Also I think it's the most sincere book I've read. Even if realistic and sincere, it's so care free. It's post-modern however written with a "classical" seriousness and complexity.
As I was told that I have the unfortunate habit of comparing things, I can tell you that I only can compare Grass with Faulkner. Faulkner is mythical, dark, pulsating with instinctive and ancestry throbs. Grass is less that and more artistic. You feel blood and death, however you feel all along the sublimating and purifying drumming of Oskar in every page. Without that, without its therapeutic art, Grass as Oskar could not have survived all the horrors. We don't live Faulknerian times anymore, we've been bound by the events (WWII and all the XX-th century's sadnesses) to become more care free, artistic and complex. It's not bad or good, we're just different and less innocent. Some took only the care free part of it, the epidermal and superficial attitude. We can not live Greek tragedies anymore, I contend that, but many of us decided to live a perpetual musical.
Everybody asked me what it's about, like it mattered. As all great books it's about life and death. I invite you to read it if you have not done that already.
It's one of the greatest books I've ever read, I didn't expect it. It's fantastically poetic and grotesque(my imagination was thrilled with all the metaphors), and realistic (with a sick sense of humor). Also I think it's the most sincere book I've read. Even if realistic and sincere, it's so care free. It's post-modern however written with a "classical" seriousness and complexity.
As I was told that I have the unfortunate habit of comparing things, I can tell you that I only can compare Grass with Faulkner. Faulkner is mythical, dark, pulsating with instinctive and ancestry throbs. Grass is less that and more artistic. You feel blood and death, however you feel all along the sublimating and purifying drumming of Oskar in every page. Without that, without its therapeutic art, Grass as Oskar could not have survived all the horrors. We don't live Faulknerian times anymore, we've been bound by the events (WWII and all the XX-th century's sadnesses) to become more care free, artistic and complex. It's not bad or good, we're just different and less innocent. Some took only the care free part of it, the epidermal and superficial attitude. We can not live Greek tragedies anymore, I contend that, but many of us decided to live a perpetual musical.
Everybody asked me what it's about, like it mattered. As all great books it's about life and death. I invite you to read it if you have not done that already.
Pieter Bruegel the Elder at National Gallery
As you know I've been to London a few weeks ago. Of course I visited The National Gallery (NG). What I liked the most: the Rembrandt-s and the Van Gogh-s. Truly great. I didn't know I could still feel so intimately older paintings, and now I'm referring to Rembrandt. Even more than Van Goghs. A few years ago expressionism was the hight of feeling for me. I guess I changed.
Back to NG, what I disliked profoundly and profusely were the dumb commentaries from the audio-guide...like: Woman standing with 3 flowers in her right hand in the middle of the field...As I was blind and couldn't see that much...I guess I saw in this something from the British ethos...After all their philosophers were the great empiricists. All that is to be known is through the senses...
However, let's get to the title of the post...uff...so the painting that most spoke to me was The Adoration of the Kings, by Bruegel the Elder...it struck me and shocked me...I felt like I had instant access to medieval imaginary...and linked it also to our century (not the 21st but the 20th and its horrors - I made the association through Otto Dix's pieces).
Source for the image: http://www.ibiblio.org
Back to NG, what I disliked profoundly and profusely were the dumb commentaries from the audio-guide...like: Woman standing with 3 flowers in her right hand in the middle of the field...As I was blind and couldn't see that much...I guess I saw in this something from the British ethos...After all their philosophers were the great empiricists. All that is to be known is through the senses...
However, let's get to the title of the post...uff...so the painting that most spoke to me was The Adoration of the Kings, by Bruegel the Elder...it struck me and shocked me...I felt like I had instant access to medieval imaginary...and linked it also to our century (not the 21st but the 20th and its horrors - I made the association through Otto Dix's pieces).
Source for the image: http://www.ibiblio.org
vineri, 25 decembrie 2009
A Clockwork Orange
Doo-dloo-doo-doo-doo-doo/Doo-dloo-doo-doo-doo-doo...
I'm singing in the rain/Just singing in the rain/What a glorious feelin'/I'm happy again/
I'm laughing at clouds/So dark up above/The sun's in my heart/And I'm ready for love [...]
For a very long time I couldn't re-watch A Clockwork Orange (CO) because of the violence in it. Also, another loss, if I may call it thus, I couldn't listen to Singin' in the rain without thinking of the violent scenes in CO. I guess I was conditioned as Alex had been with the "Ludwig Van"'s [as he calls very familiarly Beethoven] 9th. For some months now I have begun to associate Singin' in the rain with another recollection and 2 days ago I saw Singin' in the rain and enjoyed it.
Feeling I was completely cured, I succumbed to my desire to re-watch A Clockwork Orange tonight. (I know, a perfect choice for the Christmas night!) And what a "feast" it has been!
I think I'll listen to some Beethoven now! The 4th movement of the 9th, I reckon.
PS: Even the doorbell sounds Beethoven like in this movie...very smart the idiosyncrasy violence-classical music...a million years' guess!
PS2: As an anti-violence art piece, I feel that CO is far better than Natural
Born Killers, much smarter and sick...And I guess is not only anti-violence but also pro-classical formation and not so much into pop art (which is all around in the film)...sorry for speakin' so bluntly in pros and cons.
I'm singing in the rain/Just singing in the rain/What a glorious feelin'/I'm happy again/
I'm laughing at clouds/So dark up above/The sun's in my heart/And I'm ready for love [...]
For a very long time I couldn't re-watch A Clockwork Orange (CO) because of the violence in it. Also, another loss, if I may call it thus, I couldn't listen to Singin' in the rain without thinking of the violent scenes in CO. I guess I was conditioned as Alex had been with the "Ludwig Van"'s [as he calls very familiarly Beethoven] 9th. For some months now I have begun to associate Singin' in the rain with another recollection and 2 days ago I saw Singin' in the rain and enjoyed it.
Feeling I was completely cured, I succumbed to my desire to re-watch A Clockwork Orange tonight. (I know, a perfect choice for the Christmas night!) And what a "feast" it has been!
I think I'll listen to some Beethoven now! The 4th movement of the 9th, I reckon.
PS: Even the doorbell sounds Beethoven like in this movie...very smart the idiosyncrasy violence-classical music...a million years' guess!
PS2: As an anti-violence art piece, I feel that CO is far better than Natural
Born Killers, much smarter and sick...And I guess is not only anti-violence but also pro-classical formation and not so much into pop art (which is all around in the film)...sorry for speakin' so bluntly in pros and cons.
luni, 21 decembrie 2009
Sa traim fara contracte!!
sau "Cum sa scapam de teroarea urangutanilor cu 0 grame de creier"
Pe 23 noiembrie seara mi-am creat blogul, pe 28 seara am ramas fara net. S-a dus naibii "the momentum" al blogului. L-am pierdut sau nici macar n-am avut vreo sansa sa-l creez.
Acum jumatate de ora mi-a revenit netul...Adica pe 21 Decembrie 2009. Daca nu eram acasa n-as fi avut nici astazi, pt ca azi a venit echipa care a recablat blocul (dupa spusele RCS-RDS, cineva a furat cablurile), echipa care face conectarea se lasa inca asteptata. Cu putina bunavointa, sau mai multa, avand in vedere ca traiesc inca in Romania, echipa cu cablurile a facut in cazul meu si treaba echipei de conectare.
Offffff! Sa traiasca RCS-RDS! Oare? Nu vreti sa stiti ce meciuri absolut lamentabile am avut cu help-desk-ul lor...Discutii absurde si tampite....Nu voiau nici macar sa-mi inregistreze sesizarea ca nu-mi functioneaza internetul, pt ca nu mai aveau alte sesizari din zona...ca sa se demonstreze ca erau furate cablurile...Am stat ore cu ei la telefon...Nu votati niciodata RCS-RDS!
Dupa multi nervi si sentimente de neputinta, mi-am jurat in barba ca din momentul asta nu voi mai trai intr-o lume a contractului (social?). Sunt obligata sa devin anarhista...Deci cu cat mai putine contracte in viata mea, cu atat mai bine...In ianuarie voi renunta si la abonamentul pt mobil...Voi ramane cu contractul de munca, contractul cu Enel, cel colectiv al blocului cu furnizorii de utilitati (caldura, ridicare gunoi menajer) si contractul de internet. In sept. 2010 raman si fara contractul de internet, ca sa nu mai fiu la dispozitia unor urangutani cu zero grame creier. Uraa! S-a nascut o noua deviza: "O viata fara contracte!"
Pe 23 noiembrie seara mi-am creat blogul, pe 28 seara am ramas fara net. S-a dus naibii "the momentum" al blogului. L-am pierdut sau nici macar n-am avut vreo sansa sa-l creez.
Acum jumatate de ora mi-a revenit netul...Adica pe 21 Decembrie 2009. Daca nu eram acasa n-as fi avut nici astazi, pt ca azi a venit echipa care a recablat blocul (dupa spusele RCS-RDS, cineva a furat cablurile), echipa care face conectarea se lasa inca asteptata. Cu putina bunavointa, sau mai multa, avand in vedere ca traiesc inca in Romania, echipa cu cablurile a facut in cazul meu si treaba echipei de conectare.
Offffff! Sa traiasca RCS-RDS! Oare? Nu vreti sa stiti ce meciuri absolut lamentabile am avut cu help-desk-ul lor...Discutii absurde si tampite....Nu voiau nici macar sa-mi inregistreze sesizarea ca nu-mi functioneaza internetul, pt ca nu mai aveau alte sesizari din zona...ca sa se demonstreze ca erau furate cablurile...Am stat ore cu ei la telefon...Nu votati niciodata RCS-RDS!
Dupa multi nervi si sentimente de neputinta, mi-am jurat in barba ca din momentul asta nu voi mai trai intr-o lume a contractului (social?). Sunt obligata sa devin anarhista...Deci cu cat mai putine contracte in viata mea, cu atat mai bine...In ianuarie voi renunta si la abonamentul pt mobil...Voi ramane cu contractul de munca, contractul cu Enel, cel colectiv al blocului cu furnizorii de utilitati (caldura, ridicare gunoi menajer) si contractul de internet. In sept. 2010 raman si fara contractul de internet, ca sa nu mai fiu la dispozitia unor urangutani cu zero grame creier. Uraa! S-a nascut o noua deviza: "O viata fara contracte!"
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