I was very moved by the images in this lyric evocation of the Book of Genesis by the great Italian director Ermanno Olmi, whose TREE OF WOODEN CLOGS is one of my favorite films of all time.
Through a series of painterly images, and the calming, soothing narration of Omero Antonutti (Paul Scofield in the English version,) we are hand-led from the creation of man (in simple, elemental, but effective brush-strokes) to the fall of man, to what constitutes the longest segment of the film, Noah's construction of the ark, and the first of mankind's redemptions. Omero Antonutti plays the old man, the prophet-vessel of God himself as his boat is the vessel of a new humanity. The loading of the animals, the sense among Noah's extended family during the voyage that they are part of something greater than themselves, the dove at Ararat with the olive branch in its mouth, the vista of a subsiding ocean, all create, with the simplest of means, an impression that can be sublimely moving. And we ask ourselves why. What special gift can make a film director convert images, words, and sounds into the sacramental?
The music and musical selections by Ennio Morricone (with a great deal of Bulgarian women's chants incorporated) create a haunting impression as well. One does not have to be a great believer or even a believer at all, to be swayed by this work of wondrous poetry.
Through a series of painterly images, and the calming, soothing narration of Omero Antonutti (Paul Scofield in the English version,) we are hand-led from the creation of man (in simple, elemental, but effective brush-strokes) to the fall of man, to what constitutes the longest segment of the film, Noah's construction of the ark, and the first of mankind's redemptions. Omero Antonutti plays the old man, the prophet-vessel of God himself as his boat is the vessel of a new humanity. The loading of the animals, the sense among Noah's extended family during the voyage that they are part of something greater than themselves, the dove at Ararat with the olive branch in its mouth, the vista of a subsiding ocean, all create, with the simplest of means, an impression that can be sublimely moving. And we ask ourselves why. What special gift can make a film director convert images, words, and sounds into the sacramental?
The music and musical selections by Ennio Morricone (with a great deal of Bulgarian women's chants incorporated) create a haunting impression as well. One does not have to be a great believer or even a believer at all, to be swayed by this work of wondrous poetry.