Dionysos

Director: Patrick Deval. The film belongs to the (nowadays) so-called Zanzibar group, a group of young leftist intellectuals and, as stated in the subheading of one of the current books about this group of "dandies," who, influenced by the intellectual climate in Paris at the end of the 1960s and May 1968, created radical films both in terms of content and form. Headless is precisely such a product on the edge of film experimentation and a political-worldview essay. Formally, it relies on a contrasting black and white camera and long static shots, deliberately disrupted and "liberated" by rare and beautiful camera movements. In terms of content, it is an uncompromising hymn to the radical rejection of contemporary society and a call for a new beginning. Thoughts are expressed in the form of long declamations on the edge of a political manifesto and poetry... poetry: the thoughts surprisingly resemble those of F. Nietzsche. Did the main character perhaps represent a new Zarathustra? The film emanates, especially due to the involvement of members of the Zanzibar group, the semi-improvised, unofficial, youthful spirit of filmmakers, for whom the film was both entertainment and a personal, artistic, and political mission. /// Interview with the author: http://sensesofcinema.com/2008/before-the-revolution/patrick-deval/

A brutally precise post-sorella film for Latin America that somewhat misses every box in which the viewer would automatically want to put it, and it is precisely this missing that leads to its greatness. It just needs a few short speeches of self-confusing introspection of the main character and a few scenes whose musical motif and overtly parodied filming undermine the seriousness of the situation, and the blocks of capitalist slave masters, carved by workers, take on a completely different meaning than the precise fulfillment of their function in the historical drama of a class on the path to realization. Paradoxically, the author didn't add anything to the characters' false chimera of psychological depth (which none of us have ever had), but still remains at a higher level, albeit still just a "mere" function, allowing them to perish in the hundreds in the audiovisual dramatization of the choreography of the idea of execution and brutal injustice, reminiscent of works of this type by Miklos Jancso.

Godard as a postmodern Master of Film deconstruction, both the deconstruction of image meanings and words. That is, what shapes human reality if it were not actually a constructed fiction? Or, as stated in the introduction, a person escapes from fantasy into reality (whose basis can only be fantasy), from Nature into Metaphor (the names of the two chapters of this film). This is another Godard film to prove to us that our phantasmic reality consists only of randomly assembled fragments of images, sounds, and sentences, whose meaning becomes perfectly empty and incomprehensible when taken out of their established context - until we put them together into a new unity. Even though that will only be a reflection of our inner consciousness, moving in metaphors, concepts, and abstract meanings that separate us from the real world. However, the dog does not suffer from this, as Rilke already knew, and therefore man can discover the lost Nature/reality through the perspective of an animal, the only perspective from which man can observe the external world and not just his internal, conscious world (the world of fragments of words and sentences, fragments of films and books). All you need to do is follow the basic pairs: love and death, suffering and that world. And especially Godard's dog. /// Jean-Luc Godard again follows the trail of the point at which every totalization shatters, the point where infinity opens up - whether it is the infinity of possible paths of society, the past, and the future, images (...) - and with it, freedom. /// Otherwise, at 84 years old, Jean-Luc Godard has more ideas with form than any Hollywood "god." Examples of this include demonstrating 3D by allowing a dialogue between people sitting behind each other (who would normally overlap in 2D) or by splitting the image and then allowing it to merge again (creating another alienation effect, which he has been exploring since the beginnings of his work). /// I saw the film in both 3D and 2D in the movie theater - definitely seek out the 3D version because, without it, one of the three Godards is simply missing from the screen.

Ferreri explores themes of generational change and decline (and by analogy even entire civilizations) with his typical dark humor in this film. He also delves into the topic he often dissects - men versus women, suggesting that the future will inevitably belong to those damn feminists. The longing and despairing efforts of the older Luigi (Mastroianni) to regain a sense of life are doomed to failure. Even the younger Lafayette (Depardieu) will not ultimately achieve victory, and the joint effort of the two - to raise their own successor in the form of a "male", little King Kong, will end in the irreversible movement of human history: he is devoured by rats, just as only those cursed rats survive every civilization. It is important to remember who passed this judgment on history - precisely the representative of a civilization that has already been condemned and consigned to the dustbin of history (the owner of the Roman History Museum). The tragic realization, especially for Luigi, is revealed in the apparently random or mistaken gender swap of the little monkey in his will.

The ship's siren reminiscent of one from a stereotype factory and the roar of a horn announcing the everyday private apocalypse evokes a paradoxical feeling of stagnant harbor water, with the ship stuck in place and yet inevitably drifting towards its end. The farewell balances on the border between life and death in the anxious timelessness of a black and white camera, when the viewer, as tense as the main character, awaits the gust of wind that would finally move the ship aground - in any direction. This perhaps slightly worn-out theme, but always relevant, is elevated by superb direction, especially by the beautiful cinematography.

The text of the drama is read for oneself, before any introduction on the stage: it is not the actor who brings the text to life, but the reader - the empty space of the stage is the world. Space itself, text itself. Love itself. And yet, through this formal emptiness, it is given to us - the audience, to its lovers. The content of ourselves comes with a delay, with even greater force, only to then recede like a wave on the Atlantic coast, momentarily giving way to some prefabricated obsessive motifs of the Durassian universe, one of which is precisely the end of love, departure, flowing, and dissolving. Cut, blackness, extreme film emptiness. Silence. And in that moment, the viewer can once again begin their merging with the text and image, like that shot in which the sky, sea, and beach merge into one.

The whole fictional documentary (which is not a contradiction) is characterized by a peculiar atmosphere of melancholy; the film speaks of the frustration and helplessness of its creators, who are clearly politically engaged on the left. Helplessness and sadness over the contradiction in which they find themselves: on one hand, the desire to change and further democratize the state and society; on the other hand, the killing of civilians who (randomly) embody the evil of capitalist society, by the burials of the hopeful movement of 1968. Therefore, the film's motto "when horror reaches a certain point, it doesn't matter who perpetrates it. Let it end." represents a painful awakening from the idea that there is an easy path to a better society without the fear of becoming evil in the fight against evil. The creators perceive their struggle against the state and capitalism as inseparable, viewing it as a general irony toward the "democratic" form of the state, which always abides by freely accepted laws, except in situations that threaten the state's existence (which the state itself determines, and perhaps the industrialists from Mercedes...). And it is also specifically German - its traditional deification of the state, stemming from German history from Prussia to Nazism, conceiving the state, as Hegel did, as a moral and rational sphere of the nation's being, is also traced by the authors in post-war society. However, even a viewer unfamiliar with the historical circumstances can take away an inspiring question from the film, ironically formulated by Marx in 1875: "What is a free state?"

A convenient connection of two worlds, two moments of human life. At the beginning, the main character drives through the USA - an alienated landscape, alone without deeper meaning or fulfillment in life, yet intensified by the surrounding and local (advertising) way of life. This is followed by a journey across The Netherlands and Germany - initially, the forced care for a child gives the main character feelings of satisfaction and a deeper reason for life. It has wonderful poetry, great cinematography and music, and Wim Wenders...

Formally, even with Jost's victorious reiteration of Euro-Atlantic liberalism at the turn of the 80s and 90s, there was a prevailing backward movement towards an even more classical narration than what we knew from films of previous decades: the experimental intellectual guerrilla warfare of American social relations with post-structuralist leftist discursive and socio-political critics gradually disappears and what remains is the best of the long-gone promise of reasonable, moderate, intelligent democratic liberalism that was also dreamed of in Czech fields and woods after the end of state socialist dictatorship, and that, as we later discovered, never existed. While watching the film, not only because of the shots of Vermeer and at one moment also of Rembrandt, I remembered Joseph Heller and his "Picture This" from 1988, in which Rembrandt looks down at humanity and its history from the walls of the Metropolitan Museum in New York. The film gives off the same feeling as that old good Jewish liberal Heller in all its grandeur: the sensitive irony towards the vanities of everyday life's afflictions and the focus on what is important, even though what is important may not even exist, and even if it did exist, we may never achieve it. And yet, there is no choice but to try. This sentiment is felt much more in this film than in Jost's Rembrandt Laughing from 1988 (Yes! That cannot be a coincidence.). For Jost, just like with Godard, his former inspiration, from whom, however, his work will fundamentally diverge from this moment on, there seems to have been, briefly, a predominance of the desire for something enduring after the disappointment of iconoclasm, something that hides behind the disillusionment of the world and the disillusionment of its effective criticism and transformation, which both authors hoped for but did not come true... Just like in Godard's The Detective (1985), perhaps the only way out of the confusion of life appears to be love, which is eternal.

The second part continues exactly where the previous part ended, after the main character's transformation from a white terrorist into a friend of the people. This transformation seemed very poorly managed to me throughout Hungarian Rhapsody: 1st moment = István is bred with the intolerant attitude of the aristocracy, and he cruelly fights on the side of counterrevolution; 2nd moment = István recommends allocating land to retail farmers, in order to "take the wind out of the sails of the reds," so it is clearly just an opportunistic calculating gesture; 3rd moment = István, dressed in peasant rags, sits at the table with the former aristocracy. Nothing happened between moments 2 and 3 that would coherently explain this transformation. Fortunately, this problem no longer exists in Allegro Barbaro (and it is therefore paradoxical that a story in which characters do not transform is better), and we can enjoy the eternal struggle of arrogance and brutality of wealth and power with the suffering and resistance of poverty in the background of passing history. There is no need to talk about the mastery of mise-en-scène, and the playful placement of individual characters is also very pleasing, which is not only the result of clever movement of actors on the stage but also of miraculous film editing.