MUBI

In this brilliant quasi-biopic, Huillet-Straub accomplish several feats: providing a structure of Bach’s life and work, displaying how Bach’s music developed over time, commenting on the family and church structures of 18th century Germany, and showing the primacy of performance in artistic creation. All while shirking narrative structure (except for the most threadbare) and confounding all expectations of the biopic.

The film excels at showing Bach as he was: not a passionate, romantic genius who feverishly composed through the sweaty nights of his agonizing youth, but as a working musician who laboured ceaselessly over his craft while also teaching, composing/performing music for his various employers and churches, and raising a very large family. This is never shown explicitly but it is implied by the fact that the majority of the film depicts Bach at work, either performing a piece or conducting a performance of his work. And his work is shown in its proper context: in church or for the benefit of a dignitary or patron. This was the reality of Bach’s life and work and is skillfully alluded to without reliance on exposition.

The film is told through the perspective of Bach’s second wife, Anna Magdalena, who was an accomplished musician herself. Her domain was not the church or the royal court, however, but rather the home. Huillet/Straub do a marvelous job of juxtaposing the work sites of Johann Sebastian (simply called Sebastian in the film) and Anna Magdelena. While Sebastian, dressed sumptuously (as would be expected of him, turning what to us would be extravagant clothing into what it was for him: a uniform that he had to pay for himself on a very meagre income), performs in church or at court, Anna is at home practising pieces written for her by her husband. The artistic creation of Bach, therefore, is rooted in the domestic and we see that he has the full support of his wife. But Anna is not merely the transmitter of the tale but has an internal life of her own, of which we see glimpses.

The music is first and foremost in this film and takes the place of dialogue or narrative structures. The viewer quickly becomes entranced by this mechanism to the point that any sudden shift to dialogue becomes a jolting experience that immediately thrusts him/her out of reverie and into a sudden awareness of the stilted nature of much of the (very limited) dialogue. Knowing the background of the filmmakers, this must be an intentional distancing tool that simultaneously brings the audience into the film while never allowing the audience the full escapism found in classical narrative films. This effect is also used in the locations of the film. For most of the film, the locations are actual, historical interiors such as palaces and churches. When Huillet/Straub suddenly switch to a rear-projected, obviously fake location with Bach standing at an angle that does not match with the angle of the scene in the read projection, the viewer is once again confronted by the artificiality of filmmaking and forced to wonder what exactly is going on.

The last aspect that I want to comment on is the nature of performance in this film. Most of the film consists of live, real-time performances of full segments of Bach’s work. These performances are uncut and presented with minimal camera movement that usually consists of a slow zoom in or zoom out. The audience is allowed to contemplate the performance of many musicians working in concert and admire the skill of the musicians on display. This serves a double, perhaps even triple purpose. The film is a commentary on performance and how for many centuries much of the arts were live performances. This leads us to admire the history of performance as well as admire the actual performance that is being captured on film. This in turn leads us to ponder the nature of film performance and how much filmic performance is artificial and the result of editing. The long takes, though, draw attention to the actuality of the current performance and visually show the importance of collaboration in the arts.

The pall of death hangs over this film; the Bachs lose several of their children (this is only mentioned briefly in Anna’s narration, however, as it was simply a part of their reality) and many of the works performed are funeral dirges or played for funeral ceremonies. Those who die do so off-screen (and are never even shown at all, in fact); what matters is the music and in an optimistic twist, music is what ensures Bach eternal life. Throughout thee film we are shown his hand-written scores and other original records of Bach’s life and work. Even when the mise-en-scene is jolted with the appearance of an empty death shroud, the music composed in honour of its bearer lives on. Although the aesthetic of the film is rather dreary, the underlying message is a surprisingly optimistic one for Huillet/Straub.