It’s been almost two days now and I’m at a loss with Theo Angelopoulos’ Landscape in the Mist (1988). I realize that I started my review of Murmur of the Heart (1971; #178) in much the same way as I have here. I gave that film a 2 with my “Hats Off” rating system, but I’m wondering now if that grade was representative of my thoughts on the Malle work. Maybe this is just bound to happen every 25 movies or so. Seeing something that you don’t know how to feel about can be disheartening when you’re trying to watch and blog these films as quickly as possible. It can make you question your reasons for attempting a list like this. That said, I’d like to thank the followers who have picked me up. It feels good to know these thoughts don’t just die out there in cyberspace. Still, I’m left with a dilemma. Does not knowing what to think about a film default it to an applied rating of two? Well, let’s find out.
Angelopoulos’ story is simple enough. Two children, pre-teen Voula (Tania Palaiologou) and her younger brother Alexandre (Michalis Zeke), set out on a journey from Athens to find their estranged father in Germany. They are running away from their mother, but we never really know why. This isn’t the type of movie to give reasons; it takes its delights in experiences. Along their way, the children encounter the same ratio of good and bad people that one would expect in such a road movie. Some want to help them, some want to hurt them, but most acknowledge that they will be only a minor character in these children’s story.
There are scenes of tenderness and scenes of brutality, but all are filmed beautifully, with a distant tone that implores the audience to hug the line between passive observation and all-out sympathy. The children aren’t stupid. They fall into traps that would fool even the sharpest of adult movie characters, and yet their vulnerability is never exploited by the director for dramatic effect. They are young, the world is big, and the road ahead is long, but their determination is unwavering. Alexandre has dreams about the father he has never met and speaks about him as if he is certain to be waiting for them at the train station just across the German border. His optimism isn’t quite sad because it is the truest thing he knows. He is a young boy with hope.
I can’t stress enough the importance here of the work of cinematographer Yorgos Arvanitis, whose camera movements are at once voyeuristically distant and curiously observant. This, in combination with the haunting score of Eleni Karaindrou, creates some of the more moving scenes that I’ve ever witnessed. But Landscape in the Mist is a slow film that takes time to emotionally invest in. It doesn’t have concrete answers, but instead exists in the realm of possibilities. In its most sweeping scene an event takes place (a clear homage to Fellini) which is absolutely beautiful and totally beyond any hypothesis of meaning. It can’t be explained, but must be experienced. It will just take some time to get there.
Early in this movie there is a twist on the movie twist. Information is revealed that, if true, would be unveiled only in the final reel of a Hollywood film, abruptly changing the perspective of the protagonists. At the time it is disclosed in this film it feels important, but as the story continues, its relevancy becomes a moot point. This is another of this picture’s strengths, but I can’t quit bring myself to say that I enjoyed it throughout. I suppose that the best thing I can write about the film at this point is to acknowledge that once I’ve completed the list, this picture will be in my re-watch column.
So I guess I’m back to where I started. The same dilemma persists. In this case I’m again forced to resort to the default.
Grade: 2 Hats Off
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