Saturday, September 13, 2003

Good Morning, Night (Italy, dir­ector Marco Bellocchio): Buongiorno, Notte (its Italian title) is a quietly powerful film exploring the events sur­rounding the 1978 kid­nap­ping (and even­tual assas­sin­a­tion) of former prime min­ister (and leader of the powerful Christian Democrat party) Aldo Moro by the Communist-inspired Red Brigades. The irony is that Moro had just played an instru­mental role in forming a coali­tion gov­ern­ment in which the Communist Party were going to par­ti­cipate for the first time in Italian history.

We follow events through the eyes of Chiara, a young “revolu­tionary” who begins to have doubts about her par­ti­cip­a­tion. Moro, though held for almost two months, never seems to have lost his humanity or his inner freedom. In con­trast, the ter­ror­ists seem isol­ated from the out­side world, from each other, and even from them­selves in the claus­tro­phobic apart­ment that has become as much their prison as Moro’s.

This is not an “action” movie. It is more con­tem­plative, and there is a real sense of sad­ness, des­pair, and wasted life that per­vades every frame. The use of actual tele­vi­sion footage from the news­casts of the time add authen­ti­city and bring home the fact that this is recent his­tory. The only weak­ness, in my opinion, are the many scenes of Chiara dreaming of dif­ferent out­comes (her pois­oning her com­rades, Moro walking out free). I am glad the scenes are in the film, but it is some­times dif­fi­cult to determine when she is dreaming, ima­gining, or actu­ally exper­i­en­cing cer­tain events.

Overall, a powerful and humane explor­a­tion of a dark moment in Italy’s his­tory. Bellocchio doesn’t dwell on the many con­spiracy the­ories that are still swirling about who was respons­ible for the murder. Instead, he makes a film that cel­eb­rates the value of life, and mourns its waste.

(9/10)

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The Tulse Luper Suitcases, Part 1: The Moab Story

The Tulse Luper Suitcases, Part 1: The Moab Story (UK/Netherlands, dir­ector Peter Greenaway): Here’s what the pro­gramme book has to say about this film, “The Tulse Luper Suitcases pro­ject will use five media: at least three feature-length films, tele­vi­sion, numerous DVDs, the Internet and books. The con­tent is a his­tory that covers six dec­ades, a period Greenaway refers to as the Uranium Years: from the dis­covery of uranium in Colorado in 1928 to the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989. Ninety-two suit­cases (after the atomic number of uranium) will be opened, twenty-one of them in the first part of the pro­ject, The Moab Story.”

Of course, I don’t think most of the audi­ence read the pro­gramme book, nor had most of them ever seen a Peter Greenaway film. Both were required pre­requis­ites tonight. The Moab Story is a tech­nical tour-de-force, using all manner of innov­ative film tech­niques. And all of the Greenaway obses­sions are present: gen­erous amounts of nudity (both male and female), num­bers and counting, super­im­pos­i­tion of text, sump­tuous art dir­ec­tion, and a labyrinthine plot. I was baffled, frus­trated, fas­cin­ated, baffled again, etc. It would be hard to attempt a plot out­line, but the sub­jects covered include Mormonism, fas­cism, film­making (with winking ref­er­ences to sev­eral other Greenaway films), and the nature of con­fine­ment. A muddle, to be sure, but an ambi­tious one. Greenaway has given him­self a huge canvas on which to paint a huge story. Or rather, this is like a million-piece jigsaw puzzle. Head-scratching, yes, but I can’t wait to find the next piece.

(8/10)

P.S. The web­site will prob­ably not be of much interest if you haven’t seen the film, but there is a blog sec­tion where it’s pos­sible to leave com­ments. Some people are leaving com­ments “in char­acter” and addressing Tulse Luper as if he were a real person (and still alive, though he’d be 92).

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