The human condition
2 July 2023
Warning: Spoilers
A classic movie from the brilliant Dutch documentarist Bert Haanstra, "One Could Laugh in Former Days" actually represents the work of journalist Simon Carmiggelt, whose human-interest stories about ordinary people have been brought to the screen by Bert with top local actors to enact the unique monologues, plus Simon himself on screen. Sadly, this movie has never been shown in America, but is available on a Dutch boxed set of DVDs devoted to Bert's work. Included with this film is an hour-long documentary of 1980s interviews with Bert plus film clips of his work made in 1997 after he died, titled "Het uur van de wolf".

The dozen or so segments of this unique feature film deserve individual description and analysis, hardly possible in a review here, but I will summarize the key points. Both Simon and Bert are true humanists, commenting on our condition in their respective media with great originality and subtlety. Simon in particular presents here a study of loneliness, often involving older people (whom I can now easily identify with at my age of 75), reminiscing about the past or just living day-to-day defined and constrained by the past.

Included are strongly comical segments, such as a Dutch Rodney Dangerfield sort of stand-up comic who gives rise to the movie's title, as he delivers a routine at a concert hall to an appreciative audience, about how folks used to be able to laugh at their foibles, but now are too uptight about everything. Similarly, Simon turns the tables on himself at a book signing, where a nutcase/pervert insists he sign a book by a gynecologist turned novelist (of smutty literature), claiming that Simon is one and the same writer using pen names, and regales him with dirty thoughts, culminating in a clever verbal montage of the nut finding dirty meanings or double entendres in a dozen or more of the titles of compilation books of Simon's stories that he's published. Another scene in the recording studio shows vocalist Robert Long singing a song based on one of Simon's stories written as a poem, both humorous and poignant.

A key scene that Simon claims "wrote itself" has an old man having a beer at his favorite pub, lamenting how he can't sleep, consumed with guilt over the way he responded 50 years ago (including his lack of response or tears) to his father receiving a death sentence from the doctor. This touching scene is revealed to be an actor portraying Simon himself, the son who was uncaring so long ago.

With Bert using both his documentary eye toward locations and people-watching, the stories unfold with a useful format of a person pouring out their 'most personal thoughts to a listener who sometimes reacts or merely is a sounding board. One lady who prattles on about her life in ultimately boring fashion has her female "friend" actually walking out on her, tired of listening.

A strange pair of scenes has Simon paying respects as a journalist to a WW II hero he didn't know, by attending his cremation, and we hear peculiar but enlightening point-of-view expressed by a guard who is an expert on the "business" of death, what times of year the crematorium is busiest and how the ceremonies are altered when zero mourners show up. He's followed by an old man who is devoted to attending such ceremonies, as it keeps alive for him the young men he knew who were killed in 1942 by authorities for having participated in the Resistance.

Also included is a short, unsubtle film from one of Simon's stories tiled "A couple" (concerning a boorish man who thoroughly dominates his wife, making its point about loneliness even with a monster companion there all the time), directed by Otto Jongerius, whose movie "Twee vorstinnen en een vorst" is a unique, relatively unknown classic combining (somehow) social protest with pornographic content.
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