This is one of those cinema experiences which inevitably lead me into complete incoherence. There is no way I can effectively quantify or qualify the feelings engendered by the film, so I'll just jot down some more or less random impressions:
This is, literally and figuratively, a very quiet movie. The themes are huge, but the presentation is never strident. The arguments are very calmly placed in front of us, there is no special pleading; and the score reflects this. There was a very slight, low frequency hum pervading one of the later reels in the print I saw at the Clay Theater, which was driving me slightly barmy: I can't remember the last movie I've seen in which I would have noticed it.
What we have here is one of those works of art which makes me want to revisit other works of art. The opening sequence, of novitiates carrying a sculpture of Jesus into a snow-filled courtyard, reminded me Anton Corbijn's photography for Joy Division's Closer album, and his cinematography of their "Atmosphere" video. At various points I made silent vows to listen to Coltrane's Giant Steps, reread Hesse's Narciss und Goldmund, and listen to Mozart's "Jupiter" Symphony, which, oddly enough, I woke up to this morning.
In Something Like an Autobiography, Akira Kurosawa expresses concern for the plight of Takashi Shimura, a wonderful actor, who Kurosawa felt was overshadowed by Toshiro Mifune in Drunken Angel. Something analogous occurred to me here: Agata Kulesza turns in a yeoman-like performance as the slightly jaded Wanda: but Agata Trzebuchowska absolutely seizes the camera, and never lets it go. She is just compulsively watchable.
And lastly, if I ever commit suicide, I will definitely be using the "Jupiter" Symphony as a soundtrack.
This is, literally and figuratively, a very quiet movie. The themes are huge, but the presentation is never strident. The arguments are very calmly placed in front of us, there is no special pleading; and the score reflects this. There was a very slight, low frequency hum pervading one of the later reels in the print I saw at the Clay Theater, which was driving me slightly barmy: I can't remember the last movie I've seen in which I would have noticed it.
What we have here is one of those works of art which makes me want to revisit other works of art. The opening sequence, of novitiates carrying a sculpture of Jesus into a snow-filled courtyard, reminded me Anton Corbijn's photography for Joy Division's Closer album, and his cinematography of their "Atmosphere" video. At various points I made silent vows to listen to Coltrane's Giant Steps, reread Hesse's Narciss und Goldmund, and listen to Mozart's "Jupiter" Symphony, which, oddly enough, I woke up to this morning.
In Something Like an Autobiography, Akira Kurosawa expresses concern for the plight of Takashi Shimura, a wonderful actor, who Kurosawa felt was overshadowed by Toshiro Mifune in Drunken Angel. Something analogous occurred to me here: Agata Kulesza turns in a yeoman-like performance as the slightly jaded Wanda: but Agata Trzebuchowska absolutely seizes the camera, and never lets it go. She is just compulsively watchable.
And lastly, if I ever commit suicide, I will definitely be using the "Jupiter" Symphony as a soundtrack.