Post by Capo on Jan 15, 2007 22:29:42 GMT
Nostalghia
Nostalgia
Andrei Tarkovsky 1983 Italy
Screenplay: Andrei Tarkovsky, Tonino Guerra; Producer: Franco Casati, Daniel Toscan du Plantier; Photography: Giuseppe Lanci; Editing: Erminia Marani, Amedeo Salfa; Music: Beethoven, Verdi; Cast: Oleg Yankovsky, Erland Josephson, Domiziana Giordano.
A music biographer comes to Rome and meets an intellectual recluse at a hotel.
Dense and gorgeous, very ambiguous and probably very deep; Tarkovsky filmed in Italy because he had been there many times and felt a connection with it as an artist preoccupied with his own nationality, and what it might mean not only to be Russian, but to be perceived as Russian. And so it is a Russian film caught at sea, stranded in a foreign place not only in the geographical sense, but finding much emotional weight in its protagonist's struggle to communicate with the locals. The opening shot is astonishing; a sepia, slow-motion shot of a sloping hill, with children running followed by that most loyal indicators of home, an Alsatian dog. Tarkovsky and his protagonist keep returning to these sepia images throughout the film, and they become increasingly (deliberately) muddled in meaning and clarity. The most impressive shot of a visually amazing film is the simple crab movement of the camera as it traces its protagonist past a steaming public bath and down an adjoining corridor: the steam clouds our view one moment, and then, once the camera goes beyond a certain pillar, we suddenly see a clear background. It's difficult to describe, which is always telling of greatness.
Nostalgia
Andrei Tarkovsky 1983 Italy
Screenplay: Andrei Tarkovsky, Tonino Guerra; Producer: Franco Casati, Daniel Toscan du Plantier; Photography: Giuseppe Lanci; Editing: Erminia Marani, Amedeo Salfa; Music: Beethoven, Verdi; Cast: Oleg Yankovsky, Erland Josephson, Domiziana Giordano.
A music biographer comes to Rome and meets an intellectual recluse at a hotel.
Dense and gorgeous, very ambiguous and probably very deep; Tarkovsky filmed in Italy because he had been there many times and felt a connection with it as an artist preoccupied with his own nationality, and what it might mean not only to be Russian, but to be perceived as Russian. And so it is a Russian film caught at sea, stranded in a foreign place not only in the geographical sense, but finding much emotional weight in its protagonist's struggle to communicate with the locals. The opening shot is astonishing; a sepia, slow-motion shot of a sloping hill, with children running followed by that most loyal indicators of home, an Alsatian dog. Tarkovsky and his protagonist keep returning to these sepia images throughout the film, and they become increasingly (deliberately) muddled in meaning and clarity. The most impressive shot of a visually amazing film is the simple crab movement of the camera as it traces its protagonist past a steaming public bath and down an adjoining corridor: the steam clouds our view one moment, and then, once the camera goes beyond a certain pillar, we suddenly see a clear background. It's difficult to describe, which is always telling of greatness.