Dionysos

This documentary captures sometimes truly incomprehensible mistakes and errors made by the previous regime, especially its governing nomenclature. However, the form they chose cannot be given more than one star. Impartiality means nothing to the creators, half of all information is based on the subjective evaluation of people directly affected by the decisions of that time (and thus their objectivity can be questioned). The nature of this series implies that the authors selectively choose only those projects that were squandered, but almost completely fail to mention other similar ones that made it into production/distribution, etc., and were successful. Simply put, it is a work created ad hoc, with minimal factual and technical added value. The only positive aspect is that at least the work of our ancestors, who surely deserve some recognition, has returned to the light of day.

Either I.) An interpretation from the outside of the film (retrospective, historical-critical, and speculative): when the film discovers its ability to express anything, any topic, in short, everything through itself since the turn of the 1950s and 1960s, it also brings the dialectical necessity to demonstrate this fact by the opposite pole of extremes, which confirms this fact, creating a film about nothing that expresses nothing. To prove that a film can represent anything, as it is essentially not connected to anything. Or II.) An interpretation from the inside of the film: the anti-representative character of the film sign creates an arc through the viewer's head, through which the sign speaks for itself. However, it shows that emptiness is unbearable, and the viewer seeks anything to hold onto - from random material damage to the film strip, to, for example, the "study" of the edges of a white square and their symmetry, to the fact that they won’t finish watching the film, which is the best proof that it is better to live with the illusion of something than to experience nothing, which is impossible in itself. In any case, it is a beautiful case of a film manifesto of experimental creative destruction.

Perestroika in film: dealing with Stalinism, the motivational burnout of the contemporary generation of the 80s, sequences capturing a concert of the famous rock band Nautilius Pompilius, etc. The film is primarily about the intergenerational clash of values and life attitudes, embodied by the father, who experienced active years of life in late Stalinism, and his son, who grew up in the (relative) comfort of Brezhnevism. Prologue: the father reproaches his son for his indifference toward the surroundings and the deteriorating fate of their homeland. The son counters with the cowardice and hypocrisy of the Stalinist generation, who passively witnessed the devastation of the same country during their youth and adulthood. Plot: the son falls into the year 1949, forced to relive one day of the past reality. He sees two things - the sad but factual impossibility of changing things for the better back then, and the undeniable effort and sacrifice of the generation of that time (building industry on green grass before the war, suffering millions of losses during the war, and being forced to rebuild the destroyed industry after the war). Epilogue: the son reconciles not only with his father but, more importantly, accepts the Stalinist era as it was. That is where the film differs from many of its peers - Stalinism is not condemned a priori (although its shortcomings do become evident), but it is also shown in its positive aspect (not in the sense of justifying purges, trials, etc., but in emphasizing that Stalinism was not only about purges and trials but also about the tremendous effort and sacrifice of ordinary people who lived their lives as best they could). The film flows rather slowly, playing more on details and subtle shifts in meanings, making it more suitable for viewers interested in Russia and its history.

The American avant-garde of structural film, to which this film belongs, is a cinematic offshoot of the contemporary intellectual movement that found much more in language than just a neutral means of communication. Words do not merely reflect reality; they change and even transform it according to their own image. With its claim to totalization, the language system serves as a model for the systematicity of human action and thought (and even the most inner processes within ourselves as Lacan postulated when he said that the unconscious is structured like a language). Words and language thus create their own system, to which both the surrounding social world and we submit, as we view the world according to its system. An illustrative example from this film is that individual letters are gradually removed from a series and replaced by the same images of reality (for example, the letter "f" is replaced by a tree). This automatically prompts the viewer to seek the connection between these images and the letter "f" or words beginning with "f". This is, of course, due to the fact that the film initially constructs the entire sequence solely from words. However, this is only a reminder that language (without which human orientation in the world is not possible) always precedes perceived reality. Another example of how words subject reality to themselves is the constant repetition of individual shots of reality. The continuous repetition of the same alphabetical system prevents short shots of reality from exceeding the predetermined space and forces them, along with letters/words, to repeat an endless loop. Interestingly, after the last word disappears, the fragments of reality also disappear because reality cannot be understood without the system of words, the same system that cruelly defines and limits reality. Of course, the film offers much more (due to a completely different filmmaking approach, the introduction and ending are the subject of quite different reflections). For example, some letters, just before they disappear, are represented by words like "system" in the case of "s" and "cycle" in the case of "c" (which is the very last letter in the entire cycle).

One day, the bored Frédérique spots a homeless girl from the streets of Paris, hoping to help her pass the time of her saturated life. She is motivated not only by the unique behavior of the unknown woman named Why but also, as the "Prologue" already reveals, by physical desire. The two proud individuals slowly grow closer until the architect Paul enters their tight relationship, forming a rather conventional love triangle in which the previously close women become hidden rivals. Why, just as proud as Frédérique, who always confidently resisted her situation even on the street, has no intention of giving up the newly acquired and still unknown happiness, even in the current danger of losing Frédérique's favor.

There is nothing easier than living with the idea of ​​taking everything around you for granted. So, what if a person starts thinking about all of this? What if the automated processes start to falter, what if the everyday reproduction of our social (and production) relationships starts to stumble? Well, nothing, I'll light a cigarette. Or I'll watch TV - thanks to modernization, everyone can afford it (even those who can't afford LSD). Advertising dreams are also dreams, and it's easy to forget things when you have them. Then a person doesn't even notice that their house is just another box of laundry detergent... The traditionally Godard-like sociological/ethnographic view of the film's protagonists, determined by the environment in which they live (on a lower level, Parisian suburbs, on a higher level, capitalist social formation), is enriched by a revolutionary approach to the relationship between the author-artist and their work. Thanks to the unique incorporation of voice-overs into the film, the artist establishes new connections and questions between themselves and the viewer, making conventional approaches unthinkable. Or, reflexive film sociology, in which Jean-Luc Godard examines the subject captured by artistic representation as if it were of scientific interest, and through this process, himself as the creator of the work - the artist, immersed in his time, just like Marina Vlady. /// The creativity with form and mise-en-scène is then taken to perfection - consider the famous example with the detail of coffee foam symbolizing the transience of human consciousness or M. Vlady's morning awakening, when the flag of France is unfolded from her pillow and blanket - indicating that what the film showed us in the case of the Parisian housing estate definitely does not apply to it alone.