January 15, 2008
After 7 years, the mythic filmmaker, Bela Tarr, finally makes his return with an adaptation of Georges Simenon's story 'The Man from London.' That Tarr has chosen to make an adaptation of a noir novel means that he has chosen to make his own, very unique take on film noir. That ...( read more)in itself has, I believe, created one of the first rifts that has become evident in the criticism the film has received from fans of Tarr's previous films. The other criticism the film has received comes of course from those, film aficionados or not, who are not able to get past Tarr's very slow, metaphysical style. This criticism?s shall be addressed later.
The film opens with a very slow pan up from the water to the tip of the bow of a ship. The camera slowly climbs up and up and through the hatch of a watch tower. We end up behind the films main character, Maloin (Miroslav Krabot) as he watches a conversation between two men on the ship. The camera follows as they leave the ship. One of the men meets someone else on the docks and they get into an argument, and eventually a fight. One of the men falls in the water, taking a case with him that had been thrown from the ship to the other man, Brown. Brown, slightly stunned that the man isn't resurfacing, takes off. Maloin watches, then goes down and fishes the case from the water. He discovers that it is full of money and then takes to meticulously drying out each bill.
This sets up the plot which the rest of the film will adhere to. This is I think the first major departure from classical Tarr films. The film is steadfastly dedicated to this plot and the affect the money (and witness of the crime) has on Maloin. After stopping at the pub for a drink (or a few) Maloin walks home through a beautifully framed narrow ally, lined with high buildings. He sees a young woman mopping the floor, her dress barely covering her behind. We think he must be checking her out, only to discover that he is angry that his daughter is now forced to mop the floors where she works where everyone can ?look at her arse.? He hides the money from her and his wife, played by British actress Tilda Swinton. Tarr creates a surprising amount of tension through out the film. Brown, who sees Maloin leave his watch tower in the morning, after spending the night in the pub, assumes that he must have been watched. He will follow Maloin for much of the rest of the movie, always in the distance, but with Maloin always aware. In the aforementioned scene in the ally, we think the camera might stay with Maloin?s daughter (Erika Bok) but it only stops to look, and then whip back as we discover Brown is following.
Mihaly Vig?s excellent score and the slow, very deliberate camera movements work wonderfully. One particular scene, which done by any one else, may have came across as quite conventional, but the way it is shot and the brooding score transcend it. The scene involves Maloin awaking after sleep. He walks to the window, perhaps sensing something, and looks out. Far below on the street is Brown standing in the only lit spot, under a lamp post, smoking a cigarette. He stands there, puffing away, while the camera ever so slowly zooms in on him. He then walks off. The film is filled with many transcending moments, and the camera while moving in typical Tarr fashion, also I think is different in a very important way. In Tarr?s other films, the camera moves along as a participatory observer. In The Man from London, the camera is confined to the role of a simple observer with a keen eye. This point is driven home in near the end of the film in one pivotal scene, where Maloin will walk into his shed to confront someone while the camera is forced to wait outside ? because we are only a casual observer ? dying to know what is happening.
Tarr and his cinematographer, Fred Kellerman, manage to capture as usual, very beautiful shots. Long takes and slow movements follow the actors wherever they gaze and as they walk. Tilda Swinton is captured in one particularly beautiful shot as she opens the doors to close the shudders to keep out the daytime light to allow her night-watchman husband to get some sleep. She is totally absorbed into the light, creating an almost ghostly image.
Editing and shot transitions have been said to be events in themselves in any Tarr film, simply because they occur so rarely. The editing in the Man from London is defiantly different from Tarr?s other work. The fades and extended black screens between takes, though different, I think work perfectly to capture a distinct mood. One lovely transition occurs when Swinton shuts the shudders, before Maloin awakes to look out the window at Brown. The scene turns black as Swinton walks out in front of the camera as we listen to a strange, indistinguishable banging sound. The screen remains black for several moments as the noise continues. Vig?s score then kicks in. His music is used to perfection.
It is important that the acting in the film be mentioned. Tarr uses many of the same actors he has used in the past and I think there is a very deliberate reason why. Perhaps the best performance comes from Brown?s wife, who literally has only a few lines of dialog in the film. She is confronted by the police inspector who knows that Brown stole the money and has committed murder since the body has now washed up. The camera stays on her face for several minutes as the inspector describes her husband?s crimes and what she must do. She displays such a dedicated and disciplined level of sadness that is truly incredible. No reaction shot has ever seemed so perfectly real or so perfectly affecting.
Criticisms from fans of Tarr I think are based in that the film is so similar in style to Tarr?s other films that is somewhat confusing to accept that this is essentially a different film. Tarr claims to be making the same film over and over, but there is a very different tone here. He is essentially making a film noir. Many have argued that this is a minor work for Tarr. I disagree. I think this is a very accomplished piece of film, and in no way consider it a minor work. I truly believe that it will be widely accepted as a great film once given time. I don?t necessarily think that it is as good as Werckmeister Harmonies, or Satantango, but I think it is overall better than Damnation, a film which it has most in common in regards to Tarr's films. That film is, in itself, a masterpiece.
Of course there are simply those who cannot handle Tarr's endurance test films. One woman declared loudly that it was the worst film she?s ever seen. I think this woman needs to see more films. Tarr makes films outside all convention, and I think that The Man from London is outside of his thus far established work. Any great filmmaker will be judged against his previous work, which I think is a shame. Each film should stand on its own merits, and this has not been the case with The Man from London. Herein lays the answer to its criticisms. Of course, Tarr has never released a film that has been widely accepted upon release. If you see this film, forget all you know about film, even Bela Tarr?s. Forget all you know about time. Sit, and wallow in the film?s magnificent black and white shadowy cinematography; allow yourself to become nothing more than what the camera is asking you to be.
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