giovedì 25 aprile 2019

Ples v dezju (Dance In The Rain) - Bostjan Hladnik

Bostjan Hladnik è un regista sloveno, che era stato aiuto di Claude Chabrol.
Peter e Marusa sono due amici/amanti e il film è la storia del loro rapporto.
nel 1961 sloveno questo è un film che non ti aspetti - Ismaele







Dance In The Rain is generally regarded as Slovenia's best film. Shot in 1961 by writer/director Bostjan Hladnik, who worked under Claude Chabrol in the late Fifties, the stylistic links to the French New Wave are evident.
Peter (Miha Baloh) is the dark brooding type. Leading a vacuous, shapeless life, he longs for the ideal woman, while at the same time, half-heartedly continuing with his habitual girlfriend, Marusa (Dusa Pockaj), who is considerably older, a fact that Peter is quick to point out. As an ageing actress, struggling for parts in her local theatre, she oozes insecurity and breathes uncertainty. Together, they spend their time in the local restaurant, smoking, drinking and trading verbal blows. "I bet you'll just end up a drunk," she tells Peter each time. Peter just grins and tells her how old she looks. Compounded by a thankless director who soon shows her the door, Marusa finds her identity being squeezed harder and harder against the wall…

…There is a really interesting scene about theatre/film where Marusa decries the trifling role of directors on being fired and bemoans her condition, as the camera draws up to reveal her a tiny speck in a composition dominated by hanging lights and strewn ladders. Hladnik uses sound in surfeit and designs the narrative so that surreal elements are not clearly demarcated from the designated reality. A clear influence of Godard and Bunuel on a film that deserves closer analysis than I've done here.

Peter, an elementary school art teacher, lives on a drab bed, surrounded by easels, paintings, and cigarette butts. He sometimes shares his space with Maruša, a stage actress who is several years his senior. The two seem eager to one day be rid of one another, and seem just as unable to let one another go. It is around the borders of this sad, charcoal sketch that Dancing in the Rain chews, wending its termite-circles to the center, til it digs deep within the insecurities and longing of its impossibly isolated characters. Each of them is a trench in which a dream of excitement and fulfillment in the city has gone to die. Hladnik’s film, more than a bravado litany of trick and subjective cinematography, more than an eccentric brooder, is an omnivorous autopsy of those dreams, one that double-exposes them with the concrete, with what is remembered, to discern their true shapes…

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