è il primo film di Franco Piavoli che guardo, non succede molto, anzi, è solo il filmare un pomeriggio estivo in campagna.
ritmi lenti, colonna sonora di insetti e Satie, un film contemplativo, in fondo.
adatto a chi non ha fretta e a chi non si aspetta colpi di scena.
non consigliato a che è sempre di corsa e ai tarantinati, tra gli altri.
buona visione - Ismaele
QUI
il film completo
…Come un entomologo osserva la vita svolgersi nei
boschi, nel fiume circostanti la casa, dove vive questa famiglia in cui ognuno
sembra esistere indipendente dall'altro, chiuso ermeticamente nei ricordi,
nell'inappagatezza del presente, nei sogni e incubi che nel sonno si
materializzano come prosecuzione della vita. Antonio, allevatore di animali,
vive nell'ozio meditativo della biblioteca riflettendo dalla finestra sulla
allegra vitalità dei lavoranti di colore al suo servizio; si addormenta, sogna
la loro irruzione furtiva per rubare le nozioni ed i segreti contenuti dentro
quei libri che hanno permesso a lui, bianco, di essere il padrone, e non
viceversa. La moglie vagando per la stanza cerca ancora quegli odori portati
dal breve soffio di vento che la unì per sempre ad Antonio. Le figlie cercano
nella musica di Ravel e nel bosco un motivo per essere anch'esse rapite per
sempre.
Piani fissi, che lasciano alla durata il compito di
mandare avanti la macchina filmica, senza scossoni, evoluzioni impreviste,
nell'attesa di un evento risolutore già contenuto in questo presente minimo che
si dipana davanti ai nostri occhi. Come la morte, quella del nonno, abbandonato
al proprio giaciglio senza più nemmeno la forza di parlare, oppure un soffio di
vento, ancora a svegliare quei corpi dal lento abbandono a se stessi. Ma questo
senso di morte da cui non è possibile difendersi, è una "conseguenza della
diversità biologica", come scrive Antonio sul suo computer, della
incomunicabilità verbale di questi stati di profonda autocoscienza, di una
ricerca senza pause dentro se stessi, mentre il mondo continua impalpabilmente
a mutar di segno il proprio volto. Nei volti scolpiti dall'esperienza, i
genitori, o dalla giovinezza, risiede l'ipnotica sconsolata verità di questi
personaggi alla ricerca di una nuova ragione al proprio stare nel mondo, e più
di tutti in quello roccioso di Antonio, immerso nella dorata prateria dove i
suoi lavoranti ballano gioiosamente ritmi africani come se stessero a casa,
sognando, forse, di poter essere con loro.
… Un cinema, ancora una volta, della
immobilità, con la possibilità, comunque, di narrare: una intera giornata,
appunto, con la storia implicita di una famiglia, e l'analisi precisa, quasi
minuziosa, dei singoli caratteri: mostrati, proposti, addirittura ricreati
dalla cifra visiva che li sostiene, senza concedere nulla all'affabulazione.
Con qualche frattura nel linguaggio (un sogno monocromo del padre che si oppone
ai ritmi distesi del resto) e con il rischio, in alcune citazioni (come quella
del titolo, ripreso dalle Argonautiche di Apollonio Rodio) di sfiorare la
letterarietà. Sempre, comunque, con una autorità e un rigore che fanno
accogliere anche questo film tra le opere più significative e conseguenti di
Piavoli. Uno dei nostri «poeti solitari»…
La solitudine e il degrado dell'uomo contemporaneo rappresentati con una
giornata in cascina, tra individui muti e pensierosi, fatta più di immagini
fotografiche che di trama. Dal vecchio costretto nel letto alla giovinetta che
vibra per le prime passioni, fino ai lavoratori neri che danzano in armonia
nella natura. Lentezza e fissità esasperate alle quali trovo difficile dare un
senso, anche estetico. Riflessioni scontate, effetto altamente soporifero.
Si',bella la campagna con il suo bel casolare con molte
persone che ci vivono e lavorano : ma se poi alla fine quasi tutti i Personaggi
restano immobili a pensare senza fare nulla o a muoversi verso un laghetto o al
massimo alla stazione dei treni in attesa di qualcuno ... non e' che la visione
ne guadagni molto in intensita' (ma magari a qualcuno questo immobilismo
abbastanza continuo puo' anche sembrare godibile) a me proprio no
So I
started going through my watchlist, picking out movies that were likely to
strike a chord with me. This one seemed promising, it sounded lovely and
meditative. Then I realized that the director, Franco Piavoli, is the
same guy who did the empty, awful The Blue Planet.
But I stuck with it anyway. More and more lately I’ve been bailing out on
movies that didn’t grab me. This time I decided to see it through to the
end. That was a mistake, and now I feel obliged to share my mistake with
you.
The
setting is an Italian farmhouse. There’s a family there. Father has
some sort of interest in genetics. Mother is writing some poetry in her
head. One daughter plays the piano. The other daughter romps around
in nature. A grandfather is apparently dying in bed. An older
woman, maybe a grandmother, goes to meet a train, apparently looking for
someone. Two African dudes do all the work on the farm.
This
movie seems like it’s trying a little harder than Blue Planet to
have a message. It’s saying something, but goddamnit, it’s not saying it
very well. Is it about how our differences comfort us but
also isolate us, as father writes about? Is the dying old guy
supposed to make us contemplate our mortality? Are the African dudes
oppressed? Father has a nightmare that begins with black people in a
library, so maybe it’s a statement about how the idle white folks are
exploiting other races. I dunno.
There’s
a lot of shots of people staring into space. Most of the time they look
bored. That’s fair. Why should I be the only one? There’s
also a lot of shots of cats. Sometimes they look bored too, but I can look
at bored cats all day long. I love cats. There’s five of them in my
house. You would be within your rights to call that a fuckload of
cats. One of them doesn’t even like people. From the time she was a
few weeks old, I fed her, gave her shelter and a box to pee in. And she
wants nothing to do with me. What do you with a cat like that?
Sometimes I wonder if we’d both be better off if I just opened the door and let
her go. But I couldn’t do that. I care about her, even though she
seems to think I’m constantly trying to murder her.
So,
cats are nice. It’s a movie with a lot of pretty pictures. The
nature girl has red hair. Red and green are complementary colors.
Put a redhead in a green field and it’s going to look nice, guaranteed.
Pretty, pretty pictures. People looking bored. Cats. Weird
nightmare out of nowhere. Old dude in a bed. There’s got to be a
point to this. Right? Don’t tell me, I don’t care.
Congratulations, Franco Piavoli. I’ve now seen a worse film this year
than James and the Giant Peach. Rating: Crap
(24)
it all happens on a hot quiet day and night
in Emiglia-Romagna. by all, I mean nothing, or at least nothing of
consequence...and that is the mastery of this film.
often one goes to the theater to be entertained, to see drama and action, usually pretentious and contrived, and to eat popcorn, or hot-dogs as is the case in American theaters these days. this movie is certainly not for them. the votes tallied so far speak volumes. Look at the votes by American and non-US viewers. The truth plain.
By this I don't mean to talk badly about Americans, but by habit, and honestly, by founded stereotype, we are a restless and impatient lot. The Europeans and other nationals too are more patient and will give a film like this higher marks because they realize, or at least appreciate an attempt at something original, artistic, understated.
Understated. i like that word these days, and so when I went to see this film at the Santa Cruz Film Fest, I was enthralled. the photography is a master work and the composition of the scenes, the lighting, and the ambiental music is so graceful and patient that I struggle to recall any film that equals it in beauty and delicacy.
But I am biased. i have been to Italy. i have been to the country of Italy. i have seen the slow life. i have lived the slow nights. and conversely, I have hated hustle-bustle of the American (and even Roman!) rat-race. this film captures the pace of uneventful country life. it whispers to it's audience about the rhythm of reflection, the somber solace (and solitude) of silence and the madness unique to boredom.
The scenes of the African workers, the flowing river, the beautiful freckled girl, the lines of an old man's face, the subtle crickets ever-present, the piano player, the thinker, the rustic house, the fields...all of these are equally protagonistic. and so, if you love Italy, this movie will enchant you. if not, you will surely fall asleep.
Me, I was riveted, unblinking, and was wanting to take notes. The blend of sight and sound harmonious was so inspiring that I will forever remember it as a fleeting glimpse of cinematic heaven.
often one goes to the theater to be entertained, to see drama and action, usually pretentious and contrived, and to eat popcorn, or hot-dogs as is the case in American theaters these days. this movie is certainly not for them. the votes tallied so far speak volumes. Look at the votes by American and non-US viewers. The truth plain.
By this I don't mean to talk badly about Americans, but by habit, and honestly, by founded stereotype, we are a restless and impatient lot. The Europeans and other nationals too are more patient and will give a film like this higher marks because they realize, or at least appreciate an attempt at something original, artistic, understated.
Understated. i like that word these days, and so when I went to see this film at the Santa Cruz Film Fest, I was enthralled. the photography is a master work and the composition of the scenes, the lighting, and the ambiental music is so graceful and patient that I struggle to recall any film that equals it in beauty and delicacy.
But I am biased. i have been to Italy. i have been to the country of Italy. i have seen the slow life. i have lived the slow nights. and conversely, I have hated hustle-bustle of the American (and even Roman!) rat-race. this film captures the pace of uneventful country life. it whispers to it's audience about the rhythm of reflection, the somber solace (and solitude) of silence and the madness unique to boredom.
The scenes of the African workers, the flowing river, the beautiful freckled girl, the lines of an old man's face, the subtle crickets ever-present, the piano player, the thinker, the rustic house, the fields...all of these are equally protagonistic. and so, if you love Italy, this movie will enchant you. if not, you will surely fall asleep.
Me, I was riveted, unblinking, and was wanting to take notes. The blend of sight and sound harmonious was so inspiring that I will forever remember it as a fleeting glimpse of cinematic heaven.
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