Archive for March, 2011

Barry Lyndon – Stanley Kubrick



Kubrick reconstructs with acuity the atmosphere and style of the 18th century. The style of Rococo painting sets the style for the cinematography of Barry Lyndon. Landscapes, portraits and lightning are all faithful to the lavishing painting style. Kubrick and cinematographer John Alcott used the latest NASA techniques to shoot at candle light so that the image of the interiors would resemble the texture of period’s paintings.

The story of Barry Lyndon is about the individual’s urge to access social circles in which he/she wasn’t directly born into. An innocent but misfortunate love affair puts young Barry Lyndon on a journey of defining his destiny, always choosing the road that leads to what’s hip in the 18th century. With all the good traits of his character Barry Lyndon does not succeed to leave a positive, authentic trace in history. He cunningly manages to go up in the world but spectacularly fails to stay there.

Kubrick does not allow us to empathize with his main character; the use of a narrator keeps us in touch with our contemporary values, allowing us the superior smirk. This is Brecht’s method, the Verfremdungseffekt, the distancing effect; we’re constantly reminded that we are watching a fiction, and the drama does not concern us, does not, in any way, resemble our reality.

We are allowed to objectively judge the acts of Barry Lyndon and the social manners of the times depicted. The narrator always acts as a cynic counterpoint when a scene gets too emotional, suspending all tension and, what’s more important, defining the characters with more acuity then they define themselves through their own actions and words.

On the one hand we have a subjective inner content of the story and on the other hand we have an objective outer content, the narration. Placed in cinema’s no man’s land, between the filmed story and the viewers, the narrator is also a viewer but he is also a part of the film. Actually his existence in both spheres is pure abstraction.

Kubrick is, as always, merciless with his viewers. With a final sentence, part of narration, he makes us aware of our possible resemblance to Barry Lyndon. He reminds us that we too will be sucked into oblivion. Our times have as many restrictions and are as ridiculous as any other time period in history. Maybe the only thing that matters is, not how you go down in history but how will you be remembered by those whose lives you affect.

For us, the common people, eternity lasts until we’re forgotten and, depending on our actions, our ephemeral “eternity’ will be a doomed or a blessed one.

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Io sono l’amore – Luca Guadagnino


io-sono-lamore-i-am-love_org
I think I saw a masterpiece! I did, I did!

Io sono l’amore is a story about losing and finding one’s self through love and death. Tilda Swinton is part of a rich Italian family, she is Russian and her efforts to blend in seem to have worked when the story starts. She gave up her Russian name, religion, identity and became an Italian woman, a perfect wife and hostess.

Depicting the life of a wealthy Italian family the atmosphere is cold and up-tight. But there is a sense of equilibrium; all characters seem at ease in normal parameters. But passionate love comes knocking on the back door of high-society and its etiquette. Love brought some cookies and all the hidden and forgotten identities have a sweet tooth.

Passion and lust soon burst through the screen and it is due to perfect shots and editing. Tilda Swinton’s skin, ankle, elbow are burning with desire in eager close-ups.

Who is this Love that so proudly claims his/her presence in the title? We cannot see Love but we can feel an energy that haunts Milano’s industrial skyline, the Recchi’s fancy dinner parties and the outskirts of San Remo where bugs, grass and the burning sun assist love’s welcomed aggression. Sometimes we feel the presence in its absence because image offers a bountiful platter of emotions; a perfect job done by cinematographer Yorick Le Saux and editor Walter Fasano.

Love hides behind the camera, in the flutter of the expensive or rugged clothing, in the amazing food of a genius cook. Food and taste play an important role in freeing passion and there are plenty of shots with food. I even dreamt about ukha, the Russian fish soup.

But next to love Love hides Death, they’re in amorous embrace.
Death frees love and love frees death yet entrapping each other in earth’s womb, the grave; a grand finale!

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