Wednesday 4 April 2012

The Pirate Isn't Just Decor [repost]


"In what kind of setting is the little image of the great Pirate (1948) lodged, with the signature luxury of its MGM sets that dazzled when their reds glowed, unrivaled, within the huge images being projected in a darkened theater?

And here comes the answer: What difference does it make, since The Pirate and its sets hold up splendidly? Because what they've lost in store-window impact they’ve gained in pure logic. Because, quite simply, this is not a “decorative” film. That’s the decisive point. For if there is a type of film that loses its aura by being deported to the small screen, it’s the decorative film, one that risks being less accomplished in matters of decor than the “interior” is seen. That confrontation, while unconscious, can be quite cruel.

Sunday 1 April 2012

Clockmaker of the World

كريستين ماركلي، زمان و طولاني‌ترين فيلمِ تاريخ
ساعت‌سازِ جهان

آيا فيلمي را مي‌شناسيد كه وقتي ساعت 8:45 شب وارد سالن سينما شويد، زماني كه روي پرده نشان داده مي‌شود 8:45 باشد و اگر تصادفاً يك ربع ساعت دير به نمايش فيلم برسيد، وقتي به پرده نگاه مي‌كنيد زمان روي پرده ساعت 9 شب را نشان دهد؟ آيا فيلمي را مي‌شناسيد كه طول آن 24 ساعت باشد و زمان روايي با زمان محلي – آن‌چه در ساعت مچي يا روي موبايلتان مي‌بينيد – يكي باشند؟ يك فيلم، و فقط يك فيلم، در تاريخ با چنين مشخصاتي وجود دارد، اما بايد پيشاپيش به چند نكته دربارۀ آن اشاره كنيم: اول – اين فيلم، به معناي واقعي كلمه يك فيلم نيست، بلكه هزاران فيلم است كه به يك فيلم واحد تبديل شده؛ دوم – اين فيلم تنها متعلق به دنياي سينما نيست، چون موزه‌ها آن را نمايش مي‌دهند، اگر چه در سينما يا خانه هم قابل تماشاست. براي توضيح اين پديدۀ استثنايي از كتايون يوسفي كه وقتش را در گالري‌ها مي‌گذراند و سه بار، در ساعات مختلف، به تماشاي فيلم (يا بخش‌هايي از آن) رفته خواستم تا چيزي دربارۀ فيلمِ عجيب و 24 ساعتۀ ساعت (2011) بنويسد:

Friday 30 March 2012

Film Journals#2: Bright Lights


Long before the outstanding online film journal, Bright Lights, there was a glossy magazine with a chic collection of stills which were published in every issue, and a good variety of the articles.

Bright Lights film journal established in 1974, it was discontinued in 1980 to be restarted and re-discontinued in 1993 and 1995 respectively. The magazine moved to online publishing in 1996.

Frankly Reviewd

                                                                                                   
نقد و معرفي كتاب صادقانه بگم عزيزم: نگاهي دوباره به بربادرفته در ماهنامه سينمايي 24

Wednesday 28 March 2012

A Chat With Laura Groves


I met Laura Groves in the last year's London International Women Film Festival, known as Bird's Eye View. There, Laura and her band, Blue Roses, accompanied the silent Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde with their electronic sound.

At the time, I wrote for Iranian Film Monthly about her imaginative work which was loaded with care for the meaning of every single image, and delivered a feminine sensibility throughout the film. Despite a personal dislike for electronic music for the silent cinema, and various forms of experimentation with the silent films, I was stunned by the brilliance of the Groves’s music and the way it contributed to the film. Her instrumentation was a combination of keyboards, synthesizers, guitar, piano, violin and innovative use of percussions. She even sang for two scenes.

What Laura Groves had achieved in Dr. Jekyll was interesting enough to persuade me to learn more about her work, so two weeks after the screening, I met her again, this time in the bar of the NFT.

Monday 26 March 2012

Film Journals#1: Brighton Film Review


Brighton Film Review was the house journal of the film society of the University of Sussex in the late 1960s up to the early 1970s. It later became Monogram, and published in London. Students bought the journal for its listing of screenings and TV broadcasts of the classic and important contemporary films, and writers such as Thomas Elsaesser were "smuggling" their lengthy articles in the publication about their favorite filmmakers. 

"The convenient provincialism of a seaside university gave us the cover to argue, for instance, in favor our cinephile obsessions, while nonetheless keeping a watchful eye on what Screen and other film magazines were doing," writes Elsaesser about his role in the publication. He also says that unlike Movie and Cahier, Brighton was putting less emphasis on auteurist themes, rather than a stylist reading: "we tried to be informative and broadminded enough not to scare off our readers, but we nonetheless hoped that our expository manner carried a polemical edge that London would take note of (it did)."

Wednesday 21 March 2012

Tonino Guerra (1920 - 2012)


«میكل‌آنجلو، هرازگاه، دوباره با هم نشسته بر قایقی روی آمودریای لغزان می‌رانیم، در حالی‌که با دندان‌هایمان تخمه‌های سیاه آفتاب‌گردان می‌شکنیم؛ در محاصره طناب‌ها و چلیک‌های روغن، و بقچه‌ای که زن کولی در مقابل موتوری صورتی می‌پیچد. در آن حال ملوانان با چوب‌های بلندشان قایقمان را از خوردن به کناره‌های شنی ساحل حفظ می‌کنند. ما در یک سوی قایق نشسته‌ایم و نمی‌دانیم ما را به کجا خواهد برد. به روبانِ آب در رود زُل می‌زنیم که در فاصله‌ای دور ناپدید می‌شود، در ابهام مهی رنگ پریده، که تو را به این فکر می‌اندازد، که سفر در فرارا به پایان خواهد رسید.» تونینو گوئرا

تونينو گوئرا، فیلمنامه‌نویس بزرگ ایتالیایی امروز درگذشت.



Impressions of Edinburgh

Edinburgh, June 2011. Photo © Ehsan Khoshbakht
Click to enlarge

Monday 19 March 2012

Dietrich, Fur, Feather and Camp

مقالۀ زير در ادامۀ مقالاتي است كه دربارۀ نقش لباس در سينما در اين جا منتشر شده است. نمونۀ قبلي مربوط به جون كرافورد در فيلم‌هاي دهه 1940 او بود و اين يكي دربارۀ رابطۀ جوزف [يوزف] فون اشترنبرگ و ستاره و همدم او، مارلن ديتريش، در فيلم‌هاي مشتركشان است. مقاله پيش رويتان توسط كتايون يوسفي از دو منبع مختلف گردآوري و ترجمه شده است. انتخاب تصاوير هم از اوست.

ديتريش، پَر، پوست و كَمْپ

ریموند دورنیات در مقاله «شش فیلم جوزف فون اشترنبرگ» به شاعرانگی و رابطۀ مقولۀ لباس با روان آدمی در فیلم‌های حاصل از همکاری جوزف فون اشترنبرگ و مارلنه دیتریش اشاره می‌کند. این درحالی است که پیش از آن اگر هم توجهی به این موضوع از جانب منتقدان شده بود، چیزی جز انتقاد تند نبود. هرمان وینبرگ وسواس دیوانه‌وار اشترنبرگ در مورد لباس را نوعی «جنون» خوانده بود؛ برخی منتقدانش انگ بی‌سلیقگی به او زدند؛ برخی او را براي تبدیل دیتریش به «فاحشۀ پارامونت» متهم کردند. اما اگر با توجه به این سوژه خاص مروری کلی به مجموعۀ این هفت فیلم داشته باشیم، به وجود نوعی کدگذاری از طریق لباس پي مي‌بريم. دیدن عکس‌هایی که در ادامه می‌آید، متقاعدمان می‌کند که لباس‌های دیتریش در این فیلم‌ها هم بخشی از طرح کلی‌ای بودند که اشترنبرگ در سر داشت و بنابراین بی‌راه نیست که آن‌ را بخشی از امضای او بدانیم. عکس‌ها نشان می‌دهند که لباس بازیگر چگونه می‌تواند در رساندن معنا، اطلاعات یا احساسات سهیم باشد و بخشی از طرح روایی و تماتیک فیلم شود. طراح لباس در هر هفت مورد، تراویس بنتُن، طراح لباس استودیوی پارامونت است که نمی‌توان نقشش در شکل‌گیری سبک بصریِ این فیلم‌ها را نادیده گرفت.

Sunday 18 March 2012

Miracles of Ordet


The Cinema of Carl Dreyer (1971) is the title of a still worthy and illuminating book on the cinema of Dreyer, by Tom Milne (1926-2005). Milne, who has undeservedly remained unknown outside Britain, was a writer for Sight & Sound, the Monthly Film Bulletin, The Observer and The Times. His writings on film show an incredibly clear mind and a very functional method of putting his thoughts on paper. Milne's directness in his text about Dreyer can only be compared to the purism of the filmmaker himself. He writes about Ordet:

"[The] opening sequence roots the film firmly in reality with its shots of the farmstead and its naturalistic picture of a household reluctantly awakening in the middle of the night; but the sense of dépaysement is as total and as disruptive as it was in Vampyr. Partly, naturally, thus occasioned by Johannes's madness, but even more by the sense of void that surrounds this limbo of darkness where sheep bleat but none are seen, where there is no the sign of human habitation, where in fact nothing seems to exist outside this little enclave of humanity living in a country of the mind. This is simply an impression, of course, but it is furthered during the course of the film by the oblique sense of confinement, of limitation, that Dreyer convoys in all his exterior scenes.

No sense of landscape or the seasons, no sense of community life. It is as though Dreyer were illuminating the curious semi-symbolic scene where Johannes suddenly lights a pair of candles and places them in the window - Inger quietly replaces them on the dresser since it is broad daylight - "That my light may brighten the darkness.

With Ordet, one also believes completely in the reality of this family, their love for each other, their roots in the land they live in; but at the same time those roots disappear into a strange soil which is beyond reality so that the miracle of Inger's rebirth is both less and more than a miracle."

Interestingly, Milne disapproves Johannes character in Ordet. As for the cultural differences that lead to various interpretation of the story, I have to say, as someone who discovered Ordet in his teens, and urged other friends (from Iran) to see it, I don't remember anybody explaining Johannes's character as unconvincing. To my amazement, most of the spectators, at least those whom I've talked to, see Johannes as a modern time saint, even before the miracle occurs in the film. That could be something related to the different modes of reception (UK and Iran, in this case), but when Mr Milne calls Johannes "the weakest part of the film," that sounds more like an intellectual disagreement, and a big one.

It is true than unlike the Munk's play, or reportedly, the first cinematic adaptation of the play in 1944 by Gustaf Molander (which I haven't seen), Johannes is decentralized in Dreyer's drama. But I strongly believe it is this marginal character who defines the inner momentum of the film. If the landscape or dialogues are melancholic, mysterious, and in my view, deliberately dream-like, it is as if film's been narrated from the point of view of Johannes. Isn't he the character who Dreyer feels closest to? Since the presence of sacrificial and powerful earthly women is so overwhelming, it is hard to reach a certain conclusion.

Johannes remains an enigma, throughout the films, after seeing the film, and almost in all the theoretical analysis I've read about Ordet. The way Johannes behaves, explains how the film and its mise-en-scène should be constructed.
*  *  *

Ordet, thank heavens, has a extended run at NFT. (check out the screenings on BFI site) If you haven't seen Ordet yet, catch up with one of this screenings. If you've seen it previously, but only on DVD, you need to study the faces of the farmer family on big screen. Those sad eyes of Johannes should be as big as a Vilhelm Hammershoi painting to be "seen" properly.
18 Mar (18:00 & 20:30)/19 Mar (17:50 & 20:20) /20 Mar (18:10 & 20:45)/21 Mar (18:00 & 20:30)/22 Mar (18:00 & 20:30)/23 Mar (18:00 & 20:30)