As much as I would like to say that I can fully appreciate Kieslowski's genius film-making, I am afraid that is impossible. Kieslowski tries so hard to makes the stories atypical that it is difficult to relate to them. That aside, I find that watching each fifty minute segment takes me into the darkest recesses of my mind. It is not merely "deep" thoughts; I find these recesses to be disturbing and undesirable.
Each story brings the viewer to the examination of lives falling into ruin. Decalogue number three shows a man leaving his family on Christmas Eve because of a suicidal ex-lover. Kieslowski shows at the end that the man is keeping the Sabbath by preventing this woman from suicide despite his own discomfort. Though not trying to be scrutinizing plausibility, I feel what bothers me in this whole scenario is the manner in which this "spiritual act" is carried out. The protagonist obviously recognizes that his ex is lying to him, yet one could not say that his actions were altogether pure. He enters her apartment and proceeds to almost kiss her. At that point, it is also clearly shown he was not sure whether the ex is a complete liar, because their "moment" is interrupted by a knock at the door- is it her husband? No, it is just caroling children.
The moral question is what bothers me the most about Krieslowski's films. Do we honestly think that the taxi-driver putting himself in a compromising position is the only way to save his ex? Or do we think that he acted from completely pure and wise position knowing exactly her thoughts without any thought of the flame he once held for her? I find this rather implausible and difficult to watch, especially in context of loyalty issues and deception.
I felt that the "Honor your parents" decalogue episode to be the most disturbing of all. Indeed, it is a curious situation, yet it insulted my better sensibility. If this story from Krieslowski was a common experience then it would bring into question any family that adopts children. A man would have to be sick-minded to even give off any kind of indication that the relationship with his daughter, biological or not, was more than that of the protector-father. It seems to me that Krieslowski likes to try and lead the viewer to the most twisted thoughts of man and leave him there to contemplate those thoughts. Putting aside the magnanimous side of life like trust, honor, love and purity, Krieslowski wants to focus on thoughts that entertain the absence of these qualities.
It leaves me with a bad feeling.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
amy: Un-Real(ity). Blow Up.
What are we looking for? If we look for hate in the world, it's there. If we look for love, it's there too. Can we ever find meaning? Is reality truly out there?
The film Blow-up seems to be the work of a philosopher-artist who is playing around with the big questions that existence brings about.
The director pulls in the ideas of perception and twists them with circumstance to create a mental fog for the viewer. The recurring symbol of disappearance adds to this dream-like spaciness the movie projects. Lacking music, the movie's eerie silence leaves the viewer questioning the mind of the protagonist and wondering if his mind is playing tricks on him.
First, the photographer-protagonist lackadaisically strolls through the park, almost not sure what to do with his silver-spooned life, taking pictures of whatever he finds interesting. He perceives within himself; he cannot see past the game that is his life. Still within himself, the girl who wants his photographs is of little importance to him. Only when he begins to blow-up the pictures does he start to experience some sense of reality, some sense of something larger than himself.
Reality is constantly taken away as quickly as it is given to the photographer. He tries to lay hold of this purposefulness, but is again drawn back into the narrow perspective of those around him. The first case happens when he is about to go to the police to report a murder, yet he becomes distracted by the open offer of the two young girls. To me, it seems the longer he strays away from his purpose, the more it escapes him.
This brings the viewer to the disappearing nature of everything the photographer thought to be a reality. As he puts off trying to confirm his reality through others' perceptions, the more his concrete evidence fades. Because he does not act upon the reality of the situation, the idea of it seems to slip through his fingers. When he lets the worried woman leave him, he sees her twice more disappear in front of him. When he leaves his photographs, they are stolen from him and he is left with the blurriest blown up picture. When he leaves the body in the park at night, it is gone by morning.
To enhance the concept of perception, the director purposefully keeps the climaxes of appearance and disappearances in silence. This adds to the idea of perception. Is the protagonist crazy? Did he just imagine the whole scenario? Perhaps it is his dream or a wild trip?
The very end of the movie leaves the viewer in that final scene contemplating his own perception of reality. After the photographer's "adventure," the director depicts life without meaning by the protagonist participating in the miming of a tennis game. In my opinion, when I see him walk away from the camera and disappear, it seems that he is walking back into his life without meaning. Without purpose, he might as well be a mime acting out a fake game of tennis because everything is hollow: it is an unreality.
The film Blow-up seems to be the work of a philosopher-artist who is playing around with the big questions that existence brings about.
The director pulls in the ideas of perception and twists them with circumstance to create a mental fog for the viewer. The recurring symbol of disappearance adds to this dream-like spaciness the movie projects. Lacking music, the movie's eerie silence leaves the viewer questioning the mind of the protagonist and wondering if his mind is playing tricks on him.
First, the photographer-protagonist lackadaisically strolls through the park, almost not sure what to do with his silver-spooned life, taking pictures of whatever he finds interesting. He perceives within himself; he cannot see past the game that is his life. Still within himself, the girl who wants his photographs is of little importance to him. Only when he begins to blow-up the pictures does he start to experience some sense of reality, some sense of something larger than himself.
Reality is constantly taken away as quickly as it is given to the photographer. He tries to lay hold of this purposefulness, but is again drawn back into the narrow perspective of those around him. The first case happens when he is about to go to the police to report a murder, yet he becomes distracted by the open offer of the two young girls. To me, it seems the longer he strays away from his purpose, the more it escapes him.
This brings the viewer to the disappearing nature of everything the photographer thought to be a reality. As he puts off trying to confirm his reality through others' perceptions, the more his concrete evidence fades. Because he does not act upon the reality of the situation, the idea of it seems to slip through his fingers. When he lets the worried woman leave him, he sees her twice more disappear in front of him. When he leaves his photographs, they are stolen from him and he is left with the blurriest blown up picture. When he leaves the body in the park at night, it is gone by morning.
To enhance the concept of perception, the director purposefully keeps the climaxes of appearance and disappearances in silence. This adds to the idea of perception. Is the protagonist crazy? Did he just imagine the whole scenario? Perhaps it is his dream or a wild trip?
The very end of the movie leaves the viewer in that final scene contemplating his own perception of reality. After the photographer's "adventure," the director depicts life without meaning by the protagonist participating in the miming of a tennis game. In my opinion, when I see him walk away from the camera and disappear, it seems that he is walking back into his life without meaning. Without purpose, he might as well be a mime acting out a fake game of tennis because everything is hollow: it is an unreality.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Decalouge 3&4 - Andrew
Commandment: Remember the Sabbath and keep it Holy. Honor thy Father and Mother
One thing that is interesting about each of these short films is that each character is terribly mercurial. This has really made the discussions interesting because each viewer seems to have their own perspective or opinion about who is right/wrong or good/evil. Kip noted this tonight, and I think it is really fascinating and revealing. Human relationships are rarely so simple that they can be sorted out into clear and definite categories. How often is that fights are resolved only when each side is willing to admit their share of the blame? Each of these films focuses on the complicated interactions of people who are themselves complicated. I think that is why it is so difficult to walk away from these films with a sense of resolution. Kieślowski is not trying to make us feel better by placating our souls with answers that are impossible to know, rather he is provoking us see beyond our stock answers and wrestle with what is beyond. In an interesting way it is much like the answers that Jesus gives the Jewish religious leaders when they try to trap him into a conflict with the law. In almost every case he dismisses their question by revealing their own ignorance and blindness. This leads one down the road of wondering how anything in the Bible can be interpreted with assurance, but maybe that is how everything worth discovering is. To be honest I'm not sure I like these films, and I always walk out feeling frustrated. At times I feel that the big pay off (or revelation) of the film is not worth the anguish that it took to get there. It's not that I don't connect with the lessons. I can definitely understand the 4th film and the idea of not dragging out someone's skeletons. But I'm still just not quite feeling it. I should have a lot more to say, but I'm terrible at analyzing films, especially so soon after I've viewed them.
One thing that is interesting about each of these short films is that each character is terribly mercurial. This has really made the discussions interesting because each viewer seems to have their own perspective or opinion about who is right/wrong or good/evil. Kip noted this tonight, and I think it is really fascinating and revealing. Human relationships are rarely so simple that they can be sorted out into clear and definite categories. How often is that fights are resolved only when each side is willing to admit their share of the blame? Each of these films focuses on the complicated interactions of people who are themselves complicated. I think that is why it is so difficult to walk away from these films with a sense of resolution. Kieślowski is not trying to make us feel better by placating our souls with answers that are impossible to know, rather he is provoking us see beyond our stock answers and wrestle with what is beyond. In an interesting way it is much like the answers that Jesus gives the Jewish religious leaders when they try to trap him into a conflict with the law. In almost every case he dismisses their question by revealing their own ignorance and blindness. This leads one down the road of wondering how anything in the Bible can be interpreted with assurance, but maybe that is how everything worth discovering is. To be honest I'm not sure I like these films, and I always walk out feeling frustrated. At times I feel that the big pay off (or revelation) of the film is not worth the anguish that it took to get there. It's not that I don't connect with the lessons. I can definitely understand the 4th film and the idea of not dragging out someone's skeletons. But I'm still just not quite feeling it. I should have a lot more to say, but I'm terrible at analyzing films, especially so soon after I've viewed them.
Elise: The Decalogue
"Honor thy Father and thy Mother" I certainly had NO idea where this decalogue episode was going with the commandment. It was a startling film, to say the least. I felt very uncomfortable with multiple scenes and the overall plot. The ending continued with the trend of uncertainty, leaving the viewer, I can only imagine, at the same place as Kieslowski was when he began to write it (per his intention).
What bothers me the most is that I don't think a clear conclusion was reached between the "father" and "daughter." I don't think we can infer from the film how their relationship resolved. Did they even know? Although yes, she did call him "daddy" when she thought he was leaving, it didn't negate everything she had said the night before. It didn't nullify everything he had admitted to either. And they burned the letter. I don't understand. I can see why they would "not want to know" whether or not he was the father IF they had a normal relationship and he loved her as a daughter and therefore didn't care if she was or was not his biological daughter. If it didn't matter, I can understand why they would have chosen not to know.
But it did matter.
Knowing the truth made a huge difference in this case.
They both admitted to having these strange feelings for each other, and expressing them didn't make them okay nor did it make them not okay. As it appeared to me, they were still at an uncertain place, and I think that knowing the truth could have helped their situation. To make matter worse, however, they didn't fully burn the letter! What the heck?! If they really didn't want to know, they should have burned it completely. But it did matter. So instead, they left just enough to read aloud, "My darling daughter, I have something important to tell you. Michal isn't..." And their relationship, as well as the ending, is shrouded in uncertainty.
What bothers me the most is that I don't think a clear conclusion was reached between the "father" and "daughter." I don't think we can infer from the film how their relationship resolved. Did they even know? Although yes, she did call him "daddy" when she thought he was leaving, it didn't negate everything she had said the night before. It didn't nullify everything he had admitted to either. And they burned the letter. I don't understand. I can see why they would "not want to know" whether or not he was the father IF they had a normal relationship and he loved her as a daughter and therefore didn't care if she was or was not his biological daughter. If it didn't matter, I can understand why they would have chosen not to know.
But it did matter.
Knowing the truth made a huge difference in this case.
They both admitted to having these strange feelings for each other, and expressing them didn't make them okay nor did it make them not okay. As it appeared to me, they were still at an uncertain place, and I think that knowing the truth could have helped their situation. To make matter worse, however, they didn't fully burn the letter! What the heck?! If they really didn't want to know, they should have burned it completely. But it did matter. So instead, they left just enough to read aloud, "My darling daughter, I have something important to tell you. Michal isn't..." And their relationship, as well as the ending, is shrouded in uncertainty.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
About feeling empty...
Being that it’s been a few weeks since we’ve watched “The Empties”, I find myself trying to recall the events that stuck out most to me. I remember the story line, the marriage, the tic, the unhappy relationship, the train, and the bottle machine. I remember the symbolism in it all, too. However, what my mind keeps reaching for is the end.
The final scene: that typical, majestic scene with the balloon ride above the water, the catastrophe of the sinking basket as the balloon loses helium, and then it’s miraculous inflation as the husband strikes a match to rekindle the flame. As the couple floats back up into the clouds the wife grasps onto his shoulder as they float on and land safely, but firmly onto the green field where the two still hold each other so closely in the basket of the balloon. Fade screen.
Sigh.
You can cry- weep, for that matter! Wish your life could be just like it. Feel the symbolism of the whole thing whisk you away, and realize that life is like that balloon and love is what keeps us together.
Lame.
Okay, so for the movie’s sake, it was well done and the symbolism really did a great job of embellishing the strife of feeling trapped or stifled by a monotonous life. But seriously, that end scene- I wish they had died in each others arms in the basket.
You can call me cynical, but if the movie was going to make a lasting point with its sudden fade out sans any last words, there shouldn’t be any question about the rest of their lives. Because without something tragic or extravagant in the end, it was just… sappy. The filmmaker obviously wanted us to reflect on their struggle for love, this incident of dealing with a loss of control, and then let the viewer make up their own mind about what happens in their future after they have shared this common experience of fear, doubt, and uneasiness together. But, honestly, it’s just another relationship feeing the strain of sharing a life with someone, and the difficulty of avoiding the infamous “rut” we may fall prey too as we get older; no one wants to be inauthentic, and that concept is nothing new. If the rest of this couple’s life was more satisfactory after this scene, then it almost makes me wish I had a way to manipulate some kind of situation like this in my next relationship so that I know we’ll have a similar outlook on the curveballs in life we have coming at us in the near and distant future.
At any rate, I don’t want to say I don’t like moving films, nor do I want to become to consumed by too much cynicism (of course, a little is always healthy), so I will say that the movie was well written; it played the heart strings of the human soul. It had quirky scenes of the husband lusting after beautiful young women in his dreams, scenes of true bonds made between the husband and his customers, disappointment for him when the bottle machine replaced his manual work, and mishaps that wouldn’t let you forget that he was aging and I almost felt trapped in there with him (think of the plastic tea kettle incident). After all, who doesn’t want to feel safe in someone’s arms, to find a true companion to share life with, to feel independent but enveloped by love? You can act it out, you can write about it, sing songs, or begin pilgrimages of the soul to find it. It’s still just a worldwide, timeless inquiry.
So, my conclusions: In the end all we can really do, in the words of Biggie Smalls, is “Spread love, it’s the Brooklyn way”. *
*Please note, my affinity for Biggie and his understanding of Brooklyn love. Even if it is continuing the trend, he's just tellin' it like it is.
The final scene: that typical, majestic scene with the balloon ride above the water, the catastrophe of the sinking basket as the balloon loses helium, and then it’s miraculous inflation as the husband strikes a match to rekindle the flame. As the couple floats back up into the clouds the wife grasps onto his shoulder as they float on and land safely, but firmly onto the green field where the two still hold each other so closely in the basket of the balloon. Fade screen.
Sigh.
You can cry- weep, for that matter! Wish your life could be just like it. Feel the symbolism of the whole thing whisk you away, and realize that life is like that balloon and love is what keeps us together.
Lame.
Okay, so for the movie’s sake, it was well done and the symbolism really did a great job of embellishing the strife of feeling trapped or stifled by a monotonous life. But seriously, that end scene- I wish they had died in each others arms in the basket.
You can call me cynical, but if the movie was going to make a lasting point with its sudden fade out sans any last words, there shouldn’t be any question about the rest of their lives. Because without something tragic or extravagant in the end, it was just… sappy. The filmmaker obviously wanted us to reflect on their struggle for love, this incident of dealing with a loss of control, and then let the viewer make up their own mind about what happens in their future after they have shared this common experience of fear, doubt, and uneasiness together. But, honestly, it’s just another relationship feeing the strain of sharing a life with someone, and the difficulty of avoiding the infamous “rut” we may fall prey too as we get older; no one wants to be inauthentic, and that concept is nothing new. If the rest of this couple’s life was more satisfactory after this scene, then it almost makes me wish I had a way to manipulate some kind of situation like this in my next relationship so that I know we’ll have a similar outlook on the curveballs in life we have coming at us in the near and distant future.
At any rate, I don’t want to say I don’t like moving films, nor do I want to become to consumed by too much cynicism (of course, a little is always healthy), so I will say that the movie was well written; it played the heart strings of the human soul. It had quirky scenes of the husband lusting after beautiful young women in his dreams, scenes of true bonds made between the husband and his customers, disappointment for him when the bottle machine replaced his manual work, and mishaps that wouldn’t let you forget that he was aging and I almost felt trapped in there with him (think of the plastic tea kettle incident). After all, who doesn’t want to feel safe in someone’s arms, to find a true companion to share life with, to feel independent but enveloped by love? You can act it out, you can write about it, sing songs, or begin pilgrimages of the soul to find it. It’s still just a worldwide, timeless inquiry.
So, my conclusions: In the end all we can really do, in the words of Biggie Smalls, is “Spread love, it’s the Brooklyn way”. *
*Please note, my affinity for Biggie and his understanding of Brooklyn love. Even if it is continuing the trend, he's just tellin' it like it is.
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