Like a bunch of rags thrown down on the altar steps. It is the old priest, who for many years has been parish priest in a church which is no longer of any use and has been closed. The workers are taking the pictures of Saints off the walls and carrying away the most precious sacred objects. A long mechanical arm detaches the large life-size crucifix hanging high up and brings it down to earth like a vanquished foe. There’s no point in opposing all this: nothing can stop the course of events that the rise of new situations imposes on history. However, faced with the ruin of his church, the priest feels the emergence of a new perception that sustains him. It seems to him that only now do those walls, stripped bare, reveal a sacredness that before was concealed. This moment of suffering gives rise to a resurrection of a new spirit in his priestly mission. Not the Church of liturgical ceremonies and golden altars but the House of God in which the poor and derelicts can find refuge and comfort. It is they who will be the true ornaments of the Temple of the Lord. And the life of the old priest too will find new paths to charity, brotherhood and even the courage to undertake those acts of love requiring the supreme sacrifice, as the ultimate significance of his consecration as priest. A time is beginning in which the world needs new and just men to unmask the ambiguity of words with the objectivity of deeds. –Venice Film Festival
Though not among Italy’s most internationally renowned filmmakers, Ermanno Olmi ranks as one of his country’s finest. He is known for making realistic films about the lives of average people that are infused with an almost austere subtlety and rare ambiguity that is sympathetic yet not overly sentimental. A native of Bergamo, Italy, he was the son of peasant factory workers. Following his father’s death during WWII, Olmi and his mother supported the family working in the Edison-Volta electric plant where Olmi worked as a clerk. While there, he became involved in company-sponsored filmmaking and theatrical projects. Most of the films he made for the company had industrial themes. Eventually, he came to head the company film department and over the next seven years made many documentaries, notably his last Edison-Volta film, Il Tempo Si E Fermato (Time Stood Still), in 1959. It was with this film, a chronicle of the relationship that gradually developed between an elderly nightwatchman… read more
Olmi is a compassionate director whose spirits looms large and causes you to truly ponder and feel even if you don’t want to. Like Gerima or Bresson or Cassavetes. Scorsese gives me chills every now and then but Olmi moves me like great music -- EVERY time, in every moment in every film. Even the bad ones. Cause his “bad” are most competent directors “great.”
You gotta love when a great director breaks his promise to give up moviemaking. A great, if somewhat preachy, parable on how "good" is more important than just having a religious faith.
Venice! The Biennale! Retrospectives, new films, festival turmoil, art that’s not cinema—all this and more!
For some, The Cardboard Village is a venerable work from an old master — but the trades are having none it.