Dionysos

Two young brothers and two different approaches to life, or rather to entering into it. The first, around whom the story mainly revolves, is already married and is trying to start his own small business. He embodies the "Protestant" capitalist morality, trying to make ends meet through sacrifice and hard work, but quickly realizes that it is difficult for small entrepreneurs to break through with wholesalers (because they can change the terms of an agreement during its course, as they already have long-term contracts...). His carefree brother, a university communist, on the other hand, devotes himself to the future of society and cultivating relationships with his girlfriend (the daughter of a big capitalist - the authors could have avoided this cheap trick...). The business eventually gets going successfully, but it turns out that what was supposed to be just a means to a happy family life has become the ultimate purpose, enslaving its presumed master, and reserving all the time for itself. Slowly but surely, it undermines the family itself... In the atmosphere of the late 1960s, the authors' attempt to not lean towards either side was evident as it was most likely a call for synthesis between capitalism and socialism, East and West, which "Finnishized" Finland could have been extraordinarily close to.

A tribute to Louis Feuillade and silent films of that time period. However, the displayed respect is not in any way shallow, it is not a mechanical transfer of Judex (the original 12-part series from 1916) into a world 50 years older, where people produce sounds when opening their mouths. The film is often self-ironic and intentionally nostalgic, with an attempt to remind us of or evoke in us the fairytale nature of the original. Nevertheless, it is a film made half a century later and it shows that the fairytale world depicted in films 50 years ago did not correspond to the actual fairytale world. The original was created during World War I. The fairytale on the screen was thus accompanied by a time period that was far from a fairytale. That is why Franju made a sad fairytale film. That is why we have both the funny detective Cocantin and the childishly mysterious masked hero, as well as heroes who die. That is why this is a fantastic story full of twists and a slowly flowing, almost melancholic pace. Thus, it did not result in a colorful (I don't mean the color of the film) remake, but rather a true tribute to Feuillade and his time.

Luckily, the film was shot in widescreen format because otherwise, all those thousands of extras wouldn't fit on the screen. This indicates that the film was clearly conceived as a historical epic. It is strange to complain about the characters' lack of psychology because I don't remember seeing an expensive historical film where the psychology of the characters was worth pondering (only Visconti managed it to some extent). Therefore, don’t expect anything like that here and you won't be surprised. The vectors of action are determined by both sides of the conflict, and it only depends on the individual ideological disposition of the viewer whether they find their presentation sympathetic or not. On the other hand, I appreciate that the film avoids the common 2+2 pattern (I just made that up), where we follow 1 positive protagonist and 1 villain in the positions of major historical figures (Liebknecht vs. Ebert) and analogically 1 and 1 character from the ranks of the people. There is no created character of an ordinary German here, into whom all the evil of the bourgeois world would merge, there is only the character of an old social democrat who realized too late that the SPD is no longer what it used to be. The thesis statement didn't come as a surprise to me, knowing that a revolution is a brief period when even the most cliché slogans are believed. Self-irony is also out of place when we know that the GDR, among other things, built its legitimacy on this event. The film is primarily a very well-crafted piece of filmmaking.

As an artistic portrayal of marital problems, the film works perfectly; however, as a documentary and sociological statement with broader implications, the film works less so. The objectifying tendencies are evident in the camera-delivered monologues, which do not harm the overall formal aspect of the film, but they also do not reveal anything generally meaningful about the life of society at that time. There is almost no issue introduced here that any couple experiencing similar social levels anywhere else in the world wouldn't have. Therefore, the references to socialism are hasty and likely stem from the fact that the combination of panel housing reality with a Hungarian director (Hungarians, as well as Poles, were not particularly fond of socialism...) automatically evokes misleading expectations. Nevertheless, the story is thus logically more universal, and the ability of the authors to capture the crushing hopelessness of a claustrophobic marriage in fluid camera shots is chilling.

If there wasn't the connection "film-noir from life" contradictio in adjecto, it should be used precisely for this film. No seasoned hitmen or tough detectives in trench coats, but rather ordinary workers, truck drivers, and unscrupulous businesswomen. And apples. And money, which always comes first and forms the main underlying plot. Another oxymoron: film noir realism. America was until recently a country of (legal) immigrants from all over the world - here Greek modern-day foremen, Italian entrepreneurs not far from the typical Italian-American "family" business, and Polish fruit growers all come to life. They are all in a merciless struggle, but not using Tommy guns and instead tough price negotiations. Once again, it’s about money, for the sake of which people are capable of anything. P.S. The typical American happy ending is not, according to the erudite gentleman, whose commentary is heard on the second sound track on the DVD, anything other than a mandatory concession of the (here 20th century) studio to the infamous Hollywood "Hays Code" censorship.

American Donald Marquis, who lives in California, is translating the works of Marquis de Sade in the 1960s. It is clear after the first few lines that a transhistorical intellectual and spiritual connection has occurred between the two men. Donald, just like his distant predecessor, embarks on a journey filled with women, with the aim of uncompromising and non-binding desire to obtain maximum satisfaction from the connection, whose rules are solely governed by idiosyncratically conceived "natural laws." However, Donald realizes that in the 20th century, in order to satisfy his passions, he not only needs the right female object but also something that is even harder to come by - money. He decides to acquire it at all costs in order to secure freedom for his love affairs. The film is worth watching for three reasons: 1) it was long thought to be definitively lost, but was recently found supposedly in Scandinavia and was released on DVD in 2012; 2) the film is not as bad as one would expect based on the reputation of its director; and 3) most importantly, it is an interesting blend of sexploitation thriller with an attempt at a European art film, clearly made with a limited budget. The result was pleasantly surprising.

What if suddenly, in a moment that does not differ in any way from countless other times experienced without issue, you realize that you do not know how to live? And that you never will be able to. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. There is nothing left but to voluntarily step out of the world, retreat to the fortress of Solitude, and in it, like a mirror, reflect all the unnecessary hubbub of human lives and the world. To be uninvolved, indifferent, to be the master of the world, who, like a mirror, sees everything but also reflects it back. It is unconquerable and you are also unconquerable, impenetrable. Yet there's a catch: eventually, you will realize that your passivity will cause you to be nothing more than what you reflect (artistically shown by the endless listings of everything the protagonist observes - their listing is actually a characteristic of this character). Cracks appear in the mirror. Cracks appear in the ceiling of your lonely fortress. At first, you thought that, like everything else, it meant nothing and that you could handle it. But it is the invasion of the world into your fortress, which proves to be infinitely fragile because even the strongest walls cannot resist the onslaught of the strongest enemy - time. It is time to start living again.

“Both of us are foreigners in the same country, meeting at the edge of the abyss.” In torn Bosnia, not only foreign artists meet at symposiums, but mainly soldiers from all armies of the world. They are a synonym for intolerance, eternal destruction in the effort to subdue others, and a lack of understanding of a simple moral appeal: "To kill a person in defense of an idea does not mean to defend the idea, but to kill a person." The guilt lies within all of us and all who came before us, as the section Hell shows. Caesar and Mao, the Americans, Germans, French, English, and the Russians. Bosnia can become a place of reconciliation. A place where a young Israeli-Russian-French woman can come to understand that truth always has two faces, that life and death are just a shot/counter-shot, and that to the apparent winner of the war, life does not bring as much as defeat to the defeated, because the history of the oppressed, humiliated, and murdered teach us that "there is more inspiration and humanity in defeat than in victory." The young victim of an Israeli sniper, who tries to bridge the gap between two nations not with violence, but with a defenseless call for reconciliation, is proof of that.

The soldier who refuses to run towards the slaughterhouse, and the soldier who escapes from the meat grinder to the Austrian enemy with cries of "Comrade" are textbook cowards and deserters. Supposedly, it is legitimate to execute them with all military pomp, with a neatly arranged firing squad facing the ones being executed. On the other hand, a soldier calls for the cessation of killing among those who are only victims of war, farmers and workers in uniforms, and citizens (who are equal, so why are the officers the masters of the life and death of the lower ranks?). And thus, he is shot - from behind. There is no difference between the two cases, both are unjust, and both are repulsive. The repulsiveness of all old-fashioned, pompous, arrogant haughtiness and swollen ego personified by the old general is almost textbook. The film is artistically and professionally excellently mastered, but it does not surpass the category of perfectly mastered average.

A young middle school student wanders through a country where the war just ended, but the army has not yet left. You could say that the young man's youthfulness prevents him from saying goodbye to the war, as if he is moving between the desire to get home to safety and on the other hand, participating in the enterprise of real men (like when he puts on an abandoned uniform - is it because he is cold, or does he want to wear the uniform, to be seen as a soldier, even if he will surely be captured?). Later, the occupying army does indeed capture him. He behaves like a true soldier and a Hungarian. He tries to escape from the Russians, or rather from a Russian. But then the screenwriters and the director show an example of universal reconciliation. The law dictating the young man's behavior changes. He no longer acts like a Hungarian, like a soldier (which are categories dividing, generalizing, and heteronomous people), but like a Human. Indeed, a true human helps others regardless of nationality or uniform. Cinematographer Tamás Somló once again showed himself in full glory.