Sweden saw the birth of one of the greatest talents of cinema at the beginning, the great Victor Sjöström, a theater actor by profession, would also become one of the referential film directors worldwide, and movies like this help to understand the wide talented range of this author. Some appreciators consider this film as part of a Sjöström film triptych, started with
The Outlaw and His Wife (1918), continued with the present work and finished with
The Phantom Carriage (1921), and as it did in the film that is initial, adapts the filmmaker a novel of his environment, authored by Franz Grillparzer, and again as in that film, the director is involved and participates in the development of the script; he only lacked the detail to star in this medium-length film, which nevertheless carries all the edges and cornerstones of its director, who was already experienced and experimented with dozens of feature films produced in just a few years. The director adapts this dark and brief history, a story that begins with strangers in Poland, travelers who in a difficult night seek refuge in a mysterious and dark monastery; there an old monk tells the uncertain origins of the foundation of the monastery, where a nobleman, humiliated by the betrayal of his wife, decides to take revenge, with unexpected end.
On one occasion, on Polish territory, two travelers arrive in the vicinity of an old monastery, are on their way to Warsaw and request accommodation. They are served by an aging monk (Tore Svennberg), whom visitors ask about the monastery, and its founder. He, without much enthusiasm, and more for good host, agrees to tell the story. He begins to relate, the monastery was founded by Count Starschensky, wealthy nobleman, who apparently was blessed by God, full of happiness with his wife Elga (Tora Teje), and with the little son they just had together. But the happiness ends when Oginsky (Richard Lund), his steward, confesses that another man comes frequently visiting his wife secretly, that all the servants know it, he can not keep ignoring that. Incredulous at the beginning, the Count pretends to leave home, and discovers his wife's lover. She deftly convinces him that it was the maid, Dortka (Renée Björling), who had the affair, but Starschensky then finds a photograph of the lover, and no longer doubts about adultery. Following the advice of Oginsky, he manages to kidnap the lover, cousin of her, confronts them, has a duel with him, who cowardly escapes, and has a final test for his wife, who fails. The story has ended, and the monk reveals the identity of the unfortunate Count.
Sjöström already had a large production by the time this movie was made, numerous feature films, and short films as well, and in this opportunity, this medium-length film of just over fifty minutes is a good example of the solemn formation, the author's origin, it is none other than the theater, a theatrical actor by profession, but that particular topic will be addressed at the time. Poetic start has the picture, the stage is presented as the night, full of stillness and drowsiness, the night and its silver veils, we are already going into the nature of the film, because those will be many of the characteristics of the story, the mental numbness that seems to have the obtunded Count, the nobleman who does not detect an adultery that everyone knows, thinks first that his wife's lover was actually his maid's. One of the first frames shows us the exterior of the castle, a conformation of the natural space that, although not abundant during the footage, starts remembering us the director who is behind the camera, and the films that just had produce. This, because as it was said, someone has considered that there is a trilogy at this time of the career of Sjöström, trilogy started with
The Outlaw and His Wife (1918), continued with the work now discussed, and finalized with the thaumaturgica
The Phantom Carriage (1921); certainly the point or link between the works would not be the treatment and annexation of the natural element to the film, probably that link would be mostly in terms of the drama portrayed, the nature of the characters, their tribulations, their cursed destinies, sometimes with paranormal dyes.
In this way, when the circumstance allows it, the exterior images enter the film, and let us see how well the filmmaker captured images of that nature, we will observe a long path in the horizon, a great passage framed symmetrically by tall trees, the natural element is manifested, a nice composition of those frames. Of course in this film that element is completely relegated, this both by the story itself, the treatment that is given, and, above all, by the final length of the footage, which does not allow greater exaltation in major details unrelated to the central plot. In this opportunity we are in another scenario, of course, it is no longer the full nature, the exteriors reflected with prodigy in
The Outlaw and His Wife, it is no longer the field, now it is the shady monastery, there is not a link or nexus so common in that sense, but of course, and as far as possible, we will find common edges in the treatment of these sequences, certain echoes of the previous film, the initiator of this trilogy. And inside we have a remarkable architecture typical of the time, characteristic with those sober spaces, rooms that are often exemplarily photographed, with some framings that make the work of its author perfectly recognizable. There is also a very good atmosphere of these spaces, the interiors at times stand out in details, a meticulous wealth for the generation of those interiors, there is equal mastery for both situations, interior or exterior in the film. That good work of photography continues to flow, in a film where there are contrasts of colors -obviously black and white being the most powerful-, there are certain sequences on exteriors where this is particularly noticeable, where powerful backlighting is reflected between the darkness of the figures in movement and the luminosity of the sky, very remarkable segments, although they are ephemeral. This reinforces a general darkness in the film, cemented in the night, where the terrible tessituras occur, a gloom that has its epitome in the shady monastery, where the shadows find complement in the clothing of the loyal and somber Oginsky.
As for the narrative and flow of the story, a linear narrative is immediately broken, with the memory, introduced with a variation mode of a flashback -for there is no resource or sequence that connects (or cuts, rather) a moment, a time, with another-, that constitutes the heart of the picture, the core of everything that happens and interests us. The temporal and narrative linearity is broken, there is a history within the history of which we are participants, the narrative is dynamized in a great way, and this narration is enriched, with this positive resource that has its final explosion in that outcome. Everything then comes to be reminiscent of the monk, radically changing the course of the narrative, who ends up being witness of the very first hand finally of everything shared. And of course, we have that end, unexpected, something almost playful, important and indispensable part of the work, impacts with the power of a resource that currently may be somewhat predictable, but then it was much more novel, and it is still a good final. Sjöström is encouraged in this film to a brief, risky production, a decision that I do not know if it has its cause in a shortage of budget, some other external factor, or simply the intentions of the author (possibility that, knowing the many short films that the director always produced, seems the most viable), or some concomitance of these factors. Thus, in this, what we could call a medium-length film, there is economy in its development, we will find few elements, but very well disposed, in that economy the experience and sufficiency of the director is noticed, the conciseness and seriousness in the staging give faith of an author already practically accomplished, in the office and in the art of cinema. That necessary economy requires a quick narration, a representation that however does not suffer, you can see the hand of the filmmaker, in that solid representation. And of course, a feature for which the film becomes as recognizable as the work of its author, and at the same time a example of the talent of its creator, is the aforementioned theatrical heritage. The dramatic load of the theater runs through his veins, in the film there are few characters and few environments, almost only one, in the story there are elements that certainly made feasible and even necessary a shooting of these characteristics, and Sjöström was the ideal director, with a warm theatrical halo, and leaving aside gadgets or technical tricks. Of course, always present that artistic legacy is, the location of the camera is remarkable in that aspect, complements the physical distribution of the elements in the monastery, finishes generating the theatrical compositions of many frames, and feeds that powerful dramatic, theatrical conception, according to the novel, and of course, consistent with the style of the master. We observe then the domine in action, at times more theatrical than cinematographic weight is noticed, in less than a year he would produce his greatest contribution to the seventh art, the wonderful
The Phantom Carriage, the film that Ingmar Bergman defined as the best film of the history of cinema; but in this film his primal élan was manifested, he was a theater man making movies, and he did it very well. The camera, static of course, according to the time and the inclination of the film, also decisively collaborates with that nature full of Swedish theater aura that has the feature. As mentioned, if a common factor, if a link could be found in the so-called trilogy that some appreciator has seen, it would be by the nature of the protagonists, now a humiliated individual, the individual who loses the pride, and the head before the betrayal; there is a low humanity that flows in the figure of the adulterous wife, a sort of dark parable we observe, a story that tells a disturbing ending with darkness. Again, as in
The Outlaw and His Wife, and as he would repeat in
The Phantom Carriage, an unhappy fellow is the axis of everything, a tormented character, exposed to situations that exceed him, that overflow him, to levels that sometimes end up destroying him; that could be the element of union between the three films. Particularly noteworthy is that gloomy finale, that closing sequence of the film, dark and shadowy monks abound and swarm in the frame, again, the filmmaker's religiosity manifests, but in disturbing ways, that final sequence almost lives by itself, the huge Christ crowns the unfortunate, who kneels, succumbs, an insanity that, humbly, to the writer made recall the outcome of
Him (1953), by good Buñuel. Notable work of the master Sjöström, his versatility, his wide spectrum of artistic possibilities, the Swedish spirit, and his solemn heritage flow in him, this work is a worthy member of that immortal filmography.
Sweden saw the birth of one of the greatest talents of cinema at the beginning, the great Victor Sjöström, a theater actor by profession, would also become one of the referential film directors worldwide, and movies like this help to understand the wide talented range of this author. Some appreciators consider this film as part of a Sjöström film triptych, started with The Outlaw and His Wife (1918), continued with the present work and finished with The Phantom Carriage (1921), and as it did in the film that is initial, adapts the filmmaker a novel of his environment, authored by Franz Grillparzer, and again as in that film, the director is involved and participates in the development of the script; he only lacked the detail to star in this medium-length film, which nevertheless carries all the edges and cornerstones of its director, who was already experienced and experimented with dozens of feature films produced in just a few years. The director adapts this dark and brief history, a story that begins with strangers in Poland, travelers who in a difficult night seek refuge in a mysterious and dark monastery; there an old monk tells the uncertain origins of the foundation of the monastery, where a nobleman, humiliated by the betrayal of his wife, decides to take revenge, with unexpected end.
On one occasion, on Polish territory, two travelers arrive in the vicinity of an old monastery, are on their way to Warsaw and request accommodation. They are served by an aging monk (Tore Svennberg), whom visitors ask about the monastery, and its founder. He, without much enthusiasm, and more for good host, agrees to tell the story. He begins to relate, the monastery was founded by Count Starschensky, wealthy nobleman, who apparently was blessed by God, full of happiness with his wife Elga (Tora Teje), and with the little son they just had together. But the happiness ends when Oginsky (Richard Lund), his steward, confesses that another man comes frequently visiting his wife secretly, that all the servants know it, he can not keep ignoring that. Incredulous at the beginning, the Count pretends to leave home, and discovers his wife's lover. She deftly convinces him that it was the maid, Dortka (Renée Björling), who had the affair, but Starschensky then finds a photograph of the lover, and no longer doubts about adultery. Following the advice of Oginsky, he manages to kidnap the lover, cousin of her, confronts them, has a duel with him, who cowardly escapes, and has a final test for his wife, who fails. The story has ended, and the monk reveals the identity of the unfortunate Count.
Sjöström already had a large production by the time this movie was made, numerous feature films, and short films as well, and in this opportunity, this medium-length film of just over fifty minutes is a good example of the solemn formation, the author's origin, it is none other than the theater, a theatrical actor by profession, but that particular topic will be addressed at the time. Poetic start has the picture, the stage is presented as the night, full of stillness and drowsiness, the night and its silver veils, we are already going into the nature of the film, because those will be many of the characteristics of the story, the mental numbness that seems to have the obtunded Count, the nobleman who does not detect an adultery that everyone knows, thinks first that his wife's lover was actually his maid's. One of the first frames shows us the exterior of the castle, a conformation of the natural space that, although not abundant during the footage, starts remembering us the director who is behind the camera, and the films that just had produce. This, because as it was said, someone has considered that there is a trilogy at this time of the career of Sjöström, trilogy started with The Outlaw and His Wife (1918), continued with the work now discussed, and finalized with the thaumaturgica The Phantom Carriage (1921); certainly the point or link between the works would not be the treatment and annexation of the natural element to the film, probably that link would be mostly in terms of the drama portrayed, the nature of the characters, their tribulations, their cursed destinies, sometimes with paranormal dyes.
In this way, when the circumstance allows it, the exterior images enter the film, and let us see how well the filmmaker captured images of that nature, we will observe a long path in the horizon, a great passage framed symmetrically by tall trees, the natural element is manifested, a nice composition of those frames. Of course in this film that element is completely relegated, this both by the story itself, the treatment that is given, and, above all, by the final length of the footage, which does not allow greater exaltation in major details unrelated to the central plot. In this opportunity we are in another scenario, of course, it is no longer the full nature, the exteriors reflected with prodigy in The Outlaw and His Wife, it is no longer the field, now it is the shady monastery, there is not a link or nexus so common in that sense, but of course, and as far as possible, we will find common edges in the treatment of these sequences, certain echoes of the previous film, the initiator of this trilogy. And inside we have a remarkable architecture typical of the time, characteristic with those sober spaces, rooms that are often exemplarily photographed, with some framings that make the work of its author perfectly recognizable. There is also a very good atmosphere of these spaces, the interiors at times stand out in details, a meticulous wealth for the generation of those interiors, there is equal mastery for both situations, interior or exterior in the film. That good work of photography continues to flow, in a film where there are contrasts of colors -obviously black and white being the most powerful-, there are certain sequences on exteriors where this is particularly noticeable, where powerful backlighting is reflected between the darkness of the figures in movement and the luminosity of the sky, very remarkable segments, although they are ephemeral. This reinforces a general darkness in the film, cemented in the night, where the terrible tessituras occur, a gloom that has its epitome in the shady monastery, where the shadows find complement in the clothing of the loyal and somber Oginsky.
As for the narrative and flow of the story, a linear narrative is immediately broken, with the memory, introduced with a variation mode of a flashback -for there is no resource or sequence that connects (or cuts, rather) a moment, a time, with another-, that constitutes the heart of the picture, the core of everything that happens and interests us. The temporal and narrative linearity is broken, there is a history within the history of which we are participants, the narrative is dynamized in a great way, and this narration is enriched, with this positive resource that has its final explosion in that outcome. Everything then comes to be reminiscent of the monk, radically changing the course of the narrative, who ends up being witness of the very first hand finally of everything shared. And of course, we have that end, unexpected, something almost playful, important and indispensable part of the work, impacts with the power of a resource that currently may be somewhat predictable, but then it was much more novel, and it is still a good final. Sjöström is encouraged in this film to a brief, risky production, a decision that I do not know if it has its cause in a shortage of budget, some other external factor, or simply the intentions of the author (possibility that, knowing the many short films that the director always produced, seems the most viable), or some concomitance of these factors. Thus, in this, what we could call a medium-length film, there is economy in its development, we will find few elements, but very well disposed, in that economy the experience and sufficiency of the director is noticed, the conciseness and seriousness in the staging give faith of an author already practically accomplished, in the office and in the art of cinema. That necessary economy requires a quick narration, a representation that however does not suffer, you can see the hand of the filmmaker, in that solid representation. And of course, a feature for which the film becomes as recognizable as the work of its author, and at the same time a example of the talent of its creator, is the aforementioned theatrical heritage. The dramatic load of the theater runs through his veins, in the film there are few characters and few environments, almost only one, in the story there are elements that certainly made feasible and even necessary a shooting of these characteristics, and Sjöström was the ideal director, with a warm theatrical halo, and leaving aside gadgets or technical tricks. Of course, always present that artistic legacy is, the location of the camera is remarkable in that aspect, complements the physical distribution of the elements in the monastery, finishes generating the theatrical compositions of many frames, and feeds that powerful dramatic, theatrical conception, according to the novel, and of course, consistent with the style of the master. We observe then the domine in action, at times more theatrical than cinematographic weight is noticed, in less than a year he would produce his greatest contribution to the seventh art, the wonderful The Phantom Carriage, the film that Ingmar Bergman defined as the best film of the history of cinema; but in this film his primal élan was manifested, he was a theater man making movies, and he did it very well. The camera, static of course, according to the time and the inclination of the film, also decisively collaborates with that nature full of Swedish theater aura that has the feature. As mentioned, if a common factor, if a link could be found in the so-called trilogy that some appreciator has seen, it would be by the nature of the protagonists, now a humiliated individual, the individual who loses the pride, and the head before the betrayal; there is a low humanity that flows in the figure of the adulterous wife, a sort of dark parable we observe, a story that tells a disturbing ending with darkness. Again, as in The Outlaw and His Wife, and as he would repeat in The Phantom Carriage, an unhappy fellow is the axis of everything, a tormented character, exposed to situations that exceed him, that overflow him, to levels that sometimes end up destroying him; that could be the element of union between the three films. Particularly noteworthy is that gloomy finale, that closing sequence of the film, dark and shadowy monks abound and swarm in the frame, again, the filmmaker's religiosity manifests, but in disturbing ways, that final sequence almost lives by itself, the huge Christ crowns the unfortunate, who kneels, succumbs, an insanity that, humbly, to the writer made recall the outcome of Him (1953), by good Buñuel. Notable work of the master Sjöström, his versatility, his wide spectrum of artistic possibilities, the Swedish spirit, and his solemn heritage flow in him, this work is a worthy member of that immortal filmography.
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario