The Turin Horse
I have only loved McBeth from Tarr but Turin Horse sounds interesting due to a slight interest in nietzsche (unavoidable when working thru philo courses in college). I have to image anything is better than Armand Assante as Nietzsche!!
i’ve been meaning to check out Tarr, too. I’ve only seen Prologue, but i’ve only heard good things about the guys work. I’m adding Werckmeister Harmonies to the top of my queue.
Erm.. Dennis.. what is an Ubermensch?
This just made my week…..Now hopefully it is more than a NYC and LA “theatrical release”. For all of you that haven’t seen Tarr’s work, check out Werckmeister Harmonies, then block out a day and watch Sátántangó. You won’t regret your investment.
@Dennis, As far as I know, Nietzsche actually does not make an appearance in the film. From what I have heard, it picks up with the horse already back home.
from what i’ve heard, the Nietzsche thing is just an appendage and adds little to the film, which is just a regular Bela Tarr film. his best since W.H
it’s playing here next month at the MIFF, hopefullyi can go.
I saw it at Jeonju International Film Festival and wrote a brief review of it here: http://thecinemaunderground.wordpress.com/category/review/ if anyone is interested. My review certainly includes spoilers, so be aware. For those concerned I can tel you that there is no Nietzsche character or any reference to him after the prologue. Whether or not Tarr explores Niezschean ideas in the film is another matter.
@Dr. Jones – Thanks for the review. I didn’t get the idea that it would be so clear cut as to depict Nietzsche stumbling off into the world. Your description of the characters makes me thing that it’s not a diversion from The Man From London. I can see the contradictions in the idea of someone who may not be sympathetic committing an unselfish act but then going on to write works that inspire others into other acts that are despicable.
I hope that the theatrical release for Northamerica includes Toronto, cant wait!
Saw this a couple of days ago, and would highly recommend. Beautiful.
Got to see it over the weekend at the Chicago Film Festival. Here were my initial thoughts.
The Turin Horse only reveals its actual subject matter near the end, at which point it becomes quite compelling and thought provoking. Most of its running time, there is still the beauty and otherworldliness of Tarr’s desolate locations, but the emphasis on repetition tried my patience a bit (although it thematically pays off.) While not at the level of Werckmeister Harmonies, I’d rate it about even with Damnation, although the visuals were more impressive in the later, Turin Horse ultimately makes a fuller statement. Pass the potatoes!
As I’ve had time to offer it more consideration, I’ve become more fond of it.
When people who saw the film talked about ‘repetition’, I feared the worst: that Bela was repeating images. Thankfully, that was not the case. Every fictional day in the film begins and moves completely different. The mise en scene is impeccable, out of this world, exquisite; the reason hyperbole’s are made for. It is cinema that is akin to painting instead of literature. In other words, The Turin Horse is real cinema. The best film I will see all year.
The best film in years and years, and arguably his highest achievement.
I was very impressed with TURIN HORSE, a splendid and moving film, remarkable in pretty much every way. The Oscar for Best Actress should go to the equine lead — Streep and species restrictions be damned.
I wanted to fully process the film myself before writing down my thoughts, but that’s not happening, so I’m going to write down my “unprocessed” thoughts and hopefully process them in this thread with others. First of all, I really liked this film. Being in the mood for a film like this and having seen another Tarr film really contributed to my enjoyment. I don’t want to say if this film is good or not just yet, because I’m not sure I fully understand it. But I’m pretty confident it’s going to be at least good and possibly moving into great territory. The visuals alone were terrific.
The one thing I’d like to focus on is the monologue by the neighbor. I’m pretty sure this is a big clue to understanding the film—if you understand the monologue, you’ll get a good grasp of the film. I feel Tarr uses a similar approach in Werckmeister Harmonies, and I really like this. (Does he always do this?) It reminds me of the way Malick uses VOs as clues or guideposts to help viewers interpret and understand his films.
Anyway, I’m going to paste the monologue, in the hopes that we can analyze it. The scene begins when the neighbor says that he didn’t go into town because the wind blew it away. How come? the father asks. Because it has gone to ruin, the neighbor replies. The father asks why would it go to ruin?
Neighbor: Because everything is in ruins, everything has been degraded. But I could say that they’ve degraded and ruined everything. Because this is not some kind of cataclysm coming about with so-called innocent human aid. On the contrary, it’s about man’s own judgment, his judgment over his own self, which of course God has a big hand in, or, dare I say, takes part in. And whatever He takes part in is the most ghastly creation you can imagine. Because, you see, the world has been debased. So It doesn’t matter what I say, because everything has been debased that they’ve acquired, and, since they have acquired everything in a sneaky underhanded fight, they’ve debased everything. Because whatever they touch, and they touch everything, they’ve debased. This was the way it was until the final victory. Until the triumphant end. Acquire, debase, debase, acquire. Or I can put it differently if you like, to touch, debase, and thereby acquire, or touch, acquire and thereby debase. It’s been going like this for centuries. On, on and on. This and only this, sometimes on the sly; sometimes rudely, sometimes gently, sometimes brutally, but I has been going on and on. Yet only in one way, like a rat attacks from ambush. Because for this perfect victory, it was also essential that the other side, that is, everything that is excellent, great in some way, and noble, should not engage in any kind of fight. There shouldn’t be any kind of struggle, just the sudden disappearance of one side—meaning the disappearance of the excellent, the great and the noble. So that by now the winners who have won by attacking from ambush rule the earth, and there isn’t a single tiny nook where one can hide something from them, because everything they can lay their hands on is theirs. Even things we think they can’t reach, but they do reach, are also theirs. The heavens are already theirs and theirs are all our dreams. Theirs is the moment, nature, infinite silence. Even immortality is theirs, you understand? Everything, everything is lost forever! And those many nobles, great and excellent just stood there, if I can put it that way. They stopped at this point, and had to understand, and had to accept, that there neither is God nor gods. And the excellent, the great and the noble, had to understand and accept this right from the beginning. But, of course, they were quite incapable of understanding it. They believed it and accepted it, but they didn’t understand it. They just stood there, bewildered, but not resigned, until something, that flash on the mind, finally enlightened them. And all at once they realized that there is neither God or gods. And all at once they saw that there is neither good nor bad. Then they saw and understood that, if this was so, then they themselves did not exist either! You see, I reckon this may be the moment when we can say that they were extinguished, burnt out. Extinguished and burnt out like the fire left to smolder in the meadow. One was the constant loser, the other was the constant victor. Defeat, victory, defeat, victory. And one day here in the neighborhood, I had to realize, and I did realize, that I was mistaken. I was truly mistaken when I thought that there had never been and could never be any kind of change on the earth. Because believe me, I now know that indeed this change has taken place.
Father: Come off it! That’s rubbish.
Neighbor: (Shrugs, pays for the brandy, and gets up and leaves)
We see a shot through a window pain—one vertical line splitting the screen. The neighbor takes a drink of the brandy and walks towards a tree, which is also on the right side, in the distance.
(It would be great if we had any Hungarian-English speakers who could comment on the translation. It seems a bit awkward in places.)
First of all, the neighbor refers to two groups—those that have debased the earth and those who are “excellent, great and noble.” Can we assume that the former is the opposite of the latter—that is, mediocre and base? Is he speaking about people, maybe a specific group of people (e.g., the ruling classes?) or just the ideas? Or could he be referring to the government or some combination of all of these things? Actually, he could be referring to secularists, atheists, capitalists—or maybe the modern Western approach—which encompasses all of these things. I’m also wondering if he is also thinking of relativism. I’m thinking that because he mentions that God doesn’t exist and that this in turn means that the great and excellent don’t exist as well.
>When talking about the debased group, he says, “The heavens are already theirs and theirs are all our dreams. Theirs is the moment, nature, infinite silence.” What does he mean by that?
>, what change is the neighbor referring to? My guess is that the back and forth between the two groups has finally ended—with the darker forces completely triumphing over the good. (The ending seems to suggest this. Btw, the candlelight scene at the end made me think of the endings in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road and No Country for Old Men).
But what about the point about one constant winner and one constant loser? (I’m assuming the winner was always the “baser group” and the losers were the excellent.) He could be saying that there was a cycle or battle would constantly go on, but now the battle is finally over. Meaning what? That mediocrity and relativism have finally triumphed? That’s extremely pessimistic, and I’m not sure I buy this reading just yet, but I’ll throw it out there.
Jazz – Meaning what? That mediocrity and relativism have finally triumphed? That’s extremely pessimistic
Well, I think you’ve summed up what Tarr and company are saying in this monologue quite well. The monologue could be seen as a good parody of the aphoristic style of Nietzsche, esp. his Will to Power and Beyond Good and Evil. After all, the film itself concerns Neitzsche’s Turin Horse episode. Then, Tarr adds a good dash of Beckett with the battle between good and evil taking a Manichaean turn. In this monologue, the world is debased, implying that any action in it is doomed to failure. Why, Tarr might be saying, make a film if the ‘noble’ reasons for film art no longer really exist?
When talking about the debased group, he says, “The heavens are already theirs and theirs are all our dreams. Theirs is the moment, nature, infinite silence."
My guess is that the back and forth between the two groups has finally ended—with the darker forces completely triumphing over the good.
I think this could well be the point, which would explain the repetition and lack of development in the film. If life is debased and those without value (the acquirers) have won, then all actions are absurd. I see this as a jibe at the consumer society that surrounds us (“The heavens are already theirs and theirs are all our dreams"), where all our dreams have been bought and sold, and the only thing of value is what we can buy as consumers. Tarr perhaps thinks otherwise, saying that by forgetting all our noble aspirations to art and culture, we now have a society where film art is only what is on offer at the multiplex – with its 3-D, CGI, wide-screen technicolor splendor, wrap-around sound reality. Which as Tarr sees it, is no reality at all. Hence, this ‘last film’ of his is really an anti-film, thrown as a bare, indigestible bone to the digital reality.
“Theirs is the moment, nature, infinite silence.” Perhaps this could be read more accurately as "Theirs [the acquirers] is the moment. That is, the acquirers (which could be read as consumers) have won. “Nature – infinite silence.” Nature responds to this pyrrhic victory of the acquirers with infinite silence (ie, nature is still beyond words or meaning, but could be destroyed by man’s acquisitive nature).
This monologue may also be seen as part of Tarr’s similarly placed monologues, such as the stranger in the bar in Sátántangó who keeps repeating himself ad nauseum. That is, the monologue is also a clever parody of ‘meaningful’ comment in a film. Like Beckett, Tarr and his co-writer have a good ear for parody of the most pretentious of philosophical gobbledygook that sometimes is put into a film to make it ‘profound.’ Tarr, like Beckett, shuns the simplistic meaning, where the proper thought is revealed, ala Forrest Gump. The dark words of the neighbor pre-figure the pessimism over-riding the entire film.
Here’s what I wrote about the film on The Last Movie You Saw thread:
This post-post-apocalyptic view of the world is Tarr’s most oblique and pessimistic. Tarr creates a Beckett-infused reality, where the son and daughter can’t go on, but must go on. The wind blows relentlessly outside. The routines of dressing and eating potatoes are played out with relentless monotony. A para-Nietzschean neighbor calls to borrow some booze and gives a summation of Tarr’s, Hranitzsky’s, and Tarr’s co-writer László Krasznahorkai’s view that all is over – the acquirers have acquired everything, but realize too late it is really nothing. The world ends not with a bang, but a wind-blown whimper. The lights are out – and not just on Tarr’s cinematic journey. Nietzsche, the most amoral and relativistic of moral philosophers, is mad and so now are we.
Tarr has said this is his last film. It is Tarr’s version of the death of cinema, his Weekend. It is anti-traditional cinema at its most intense. Narrative structure is stripped bare. There is no real development, just endless circles of repetition, like a Dantean hell. Dialogue is a series of grunts and short commands like, “Come Here!” uttered by the father to his daughter to help him dress. This is the starkest of black and white melodramas. The gypsies come and poison the well, because they are not welcomed. A circular plot that has no end or beginning. Just the perpetual darkness when all the embers have burned out and the wood worms no longer stir.
Thanks for providing the words of the monologue, which I think are the key to understanding Tarr’s take on his film. That’s my over-extended current view of the film anyway, Jazz.
^^^very interesting take on the film Oxy.
i’d say if we were.going to apply the ideas of F.N, that the Turin Horse is an effective demonstration of the wilto power in reverse.
despite the man’s dismissal of his neighbours point of view, they cant do anything to improve their situation and like the horse, will inevitably surrender their will to the universe and accept defeat.
or something. not in the right frame of mind to explain what i mean right now. had a rough week heh.
Well, Joks, I’d like to hear more of your take on TH – sounds like you might be onto something re the ‘surrender’ angle. I could be way off, so just throwing some remarks out there re possibilities.
It’s hard to pin down anyone as allusive as Tarr. I know we tried to analyze a bit in the Werckmeister Harmonies (which also has a key monologue or two) thread, but I think he enjoys baiting his audience as far as ‘exegesis’ goes. In this way, he’s like all the better filmmakers who never make it easy on the viewer to figure out what is going on. The Man from London seemed downright straight-forward next to TH, which has more in common with Sátántangó or WH.
In any case, I would like some more takes on the film and what Jazz has written re it. Having that print of the monologue really helped. Where did you find that, Jazz?
Excellent takes on the film, OXY and JOKS.
I thought the neighbor’s monologue was important, too. Then I watched the special features and the film again with Rosenbaum’s commentary. From what I gather, Tarr seems to dismiss the neighbor’s dialogue as being unimportant. During that festival press conference, he says something about it just being something he could picture any crazy neighbor or person saying. I’ll have to watch it again, because now I can’t remember exactly what he said. I think Rosenbaum mentions it in his commentary, too.
^That’s the problem with any emphasis on a part of a Tarr film, esp. the dialogue, or in this case, monologue. Tarr could just be setting us up here with a red herring, where something meant to be taken as possibly absurd (like any dialogue from an Ionesco play – or Beckett play) is seen as maybe profound, or a key to meaning.
I’m very suspicious of any attempt to assign meaning to Tarr’s narrative texts. Besides, he is so much a visual artist – and a playful one at that. Remember the endless scene at the beginning of Sátántangó of cows coming out of a barn? This, to me, is Tarr thumbing his nose at cinematic convention that says you need to have something ‘happen’ in a scene. Why should the dialogue/monologue then make sense? However, it’s still fun to see why it was put where it was – and if we can make any sense out of it. I know directors hate to be pinned down to ‘meaning’ when talking about their films. Who can blame them?
I would love to hear Rosenbaum’s commentary to this.
Oxy said, After all, the film itself concerns Neitzsche’s Turin Horse episode.
Here’s what I remember of the Nietzsche story and the Turin horse. A coachman is whipping a horse who refuses to move. Nietzsche gets coachman to stop whipping the horse, hugs the horse and weeps. Is that correct? I’d like to hear some interpretations of both this anecdote and the way it relates to the film—or how the monologue relates to it.
Some thoughts off the top of my head:
>My first, gut reaction is that Nietzsche behavior seems to be antithetical to his ideas (which is all a blur for me at this point). I feel this way because the horse reminds me of a Christ figure (sort of like the donkey in au hasard Balthazar—indeed, I kept seeing the horse in similar role throughout the film—it made me want to see ahB again). Why would Nietzsche hug a Christ figure? Was it an admission that his ideas—attack on Christian values, while thinking the past the death of God was a good thing—were off-base? This seems to make some sense in relation to the monologue. Nietzsche—or his ideas—could represent the “they” that has debased the world. Then again, could we argue that Nietzsche uberman represents the “great, excellent and noble?” Somebody help me out here.
>This leads me to other questions: “who” is the horse—i.e, what does it represent? What about the man and his daugther? Who are they and what do they represent? The man seems cruel. He is cruel to the horse and cruel to the gypsies. He has lost the use of his right arm (maybe signifying the loss of power). He and his daughter aren’t well off, and their lives seem very bleak and bland. The daughter seems more compassionate. She seems to live to take care of her father.
Who is the man in relation to the monologue? Is he one of the common folk—neither the “they” that ruins the world nor the “excellent, great and noble?” I think that’s the best answer I have now. What is the significance of him scoffing at the neighbor?
I see this as a jibe at the consumer society that surrounds us (“The heavens are already theirs and theirs are all our dreams"), where all our dreams have been bought and sold, and the only thing of value is what we can buy as consumers.
There may be something to that, but I’m not sure if I’m completely convinced just yet.
Hence, this ‘last film’ of his is really an anti-film, thrown as a bare, indigestible bone to the digital reality.
I don’t know. Werckmeister Harmonies was very similar in style and approach. Both films feel like the equivalent of the Old Testament prophets. They’re dire warnings for the viewers to heed.
“Theirs is the moment, nature, infinite silence.” Perhaps this could be read more accurately as "Theirs [the acquirers] is the moment. That is, the acquirers (which could be read as consumers) have won. “Nature – infinite silence.” Nature responds to this pyrrhic victory of the acquirers with infinite silence (ie, nature is still beyond words or meaning, but could be destroyed by man’s acquisitive nature).
I’m not sure I understand what you mean here. (The passage you quote is one of those where the translation seems awkward.)
Like Beckett, Tarr and his co-writer have a good ear for parody of the most pretentious of philosophical gobbledygook that sometimes is put into a film to make it ‘profound.
I didn’t get the sense that it was a parody at all. Ditto the monologue in WH. In what way was it parody for you?
As for the monologue, I transcribed it from the subtitles. (Later I found out someone else did the same thing and posted in online. Still, the exercise was helpful. I did this for the WH monologue, too, and it definitely helped me understand the film.)
^That’s the problem with any emphasis on a part of a Tarr film, esp. the dialogue, or in this case, monologue. Tarr could just be setting us up here with a red herring, where something meant to be taken as possibly absurd (like any dialogue from an Ionesco play – or Beckett play) is seen as maybe profound, or a key to meaning.
I find this hard to believe. My entire reading of WH is based on my understanding of the monologue, and I feel pretty confident and comfortable with my interpretation of that film. I’d be surprised if the TH monologue is a red-herring.
@Joks
i’d say if we were.going to apply the ideas of F.N, that the Turin Horse is an effective demonstration of the wilto power in reverse.
That’s too hard to unscramble.
despite the man’s dismissal of his neighbours point of view, they cant do anything to improve their situation and like the horse, will inevitably surrender their will to the universe and accept defeat.
or something. not in the right frame of mind to explain what i mean right now. had a rough week heh.
I’d like to hear more about this.
@ Jazz
Approaching the film from a Nietzschean perspective is going to be difficult, at best. He didn’t pull his aphorisms into any cohesive whole. I think the main reason his name lives on, is that he has some great sound bites that amount to the Western version of a Kōan.
There is no there, there – I can understand Tarr’s reluctance to place much weight on the monologue.
Also, Tarr is more concerned with spatial/temporal aspects of cinema rather than narrative. Nonetheless, I would suggest that one resist the feeling that spatial-temporal reasoning will lead to a conceptual solution to his films in terms of narrative.
Re: Christ figure
As far as I have been able to figure out, Nietzsche felt reason was a negation of man’s Dionysian nature. If so, one can see how he could be pro-God(s) but would be anti-Christ, because Christ was a negation of God in that Christ made God more man-like.
….yeah, kinda like that.
Jazz – Thanks for the (as usual) detailed response. I would agree with you that the monologue in WH re the very nature of Werckmeister’s musical theories is very significant to the film. However, I’m still not sure how to take the monologue in TH. Is it meant to be taken as a serious comment on whatever is the theme of the film? Tarr himself dismisses its meaning, but that could just be a ruse to throw us off the scent.
I meant that the style of the monologue in some ways seems a sort of parody of the serious style of Nietszche. Did you get my point also re the monologue of the drunk at the bar that goes on and on in Sátántangó? I don’t think we are to read anything into it, as its whole point seems to be a comedy of the absurd. So, maybe this monologue does have something to say re the film (as it does in WH) or maybe its just written to be something sounding as if it has a meaning – when it really doesn’t.
However, if anyone can make the argument that the monologue in TH does mean something relative to the theme of the film, I would be glad to hear it.
I’m not sure I understand what you mean here. (The passage you quote is one of those where the translation seems awkward.)
Well, I’m not sure, either. Perhaps the quote in the film is to the metaphysical/poetical idea that all man’s attempt at reasoning and understanding are met with nature’s infinite silence. (This is a simplified version of the idea I found on a quick internet search). IE, nature has no answer to man’s questions or theories re nature, as nature is ultimately beyond human understanding – replying with a stunning silence to our questions.
Tarr is more concerned with spatial/temporal aspects of cinema rather than narrative. I agree with Robert. That’s why anything said in his films is not necessarily telling us anything significant. Tarr relies on the mood he establishes with his long takes, lingering over a face, or a curtain in the wind. His is a cinema of very careful framing, lighting, and shot composition. All these trump the words in his films. He shares these qualities with a filmmaker like Bartas, who seldom uses dialogue in his films. The pictures tell the story.
Robert: you can say that about a lot of film makers though.
i dont have time to explain Jazz im very busy right now. but the will to power is largely about self mastery and mastery over the world. do the characters(using that word loosely) look like they are in control of their fate? if the horse gives up and refuses to continue living a life of servitude then perhaps that is quite F.N although his idea was to reverse the master-slave dynamic. regardless i thought Turin Horse was closer to the existential parables of guys like Beckett amd Camu than F.N.
@Joks
Well yeah, and all films to a degree. What I menat was there isn’t some inscrutable story being told that requires a key to unlock.
Tarr:
Because I despise stories, as they mislead people into believing that something has happened. In fact, nothing really happens as we flee from one condition to another. Because today there are only states of being – all stories have become obsolete and clichéd, and have resolved themselves.
One thing to consider when viewing Tarr is causality or a lack there of. Tarr’s Fabula can be difficlut to be causally constructed by an audience.
@Oxymoron He shares these qualities with a filmmaker like Bartas, who seldom uses dialogue in his films.
And some of fellow Hungarian film director, Miklós Jancsó style of filmmaking.
@Robert
As far as I have been able to figure out, Nietzsche felt reason was a negation of man’s Dionysian nature. If so, one can see how he could be pro-God(s) but would be anti-Christ, because Christ was a negation of God in that Christ made God more man-like.
Well, my recollection and understanding of FN is in shambles, but he might have been pro-(pagan) gods, if these represented Dionysian side, but I’m pretty sure he was anti-God (the Judeo-Christian one, especially). I’m pretty sure he didn’t believe in an actual God—a transcedent (transcendental?) being that provided the basis for morality. Because of that belief, I thought he believed that Judeo-Christian morality and the concept of God was mainly an invention of the slaves—to keep the Ubermensch down—to keep them from ruling and exercising their will to power. The morality and concept might have also been used to appease and control the herd (but maybe I’m conflating Doestoevsky and other Existential thinkers now). So I can’t see his thoughts being favorable to Christ or God.
But I think we should get some help. I feel like we’re in the proverbial situation of the blind leading the blind. hahaha ;)
What I menat was there isn’t some inscrutable story being told that requires a key to unlock.
Not a story. I don’t think the film has a narrative or a very strong one (It feels like a long painting, if that makes sense.) I do think the film is trying to express very specific ideas—maybe even a “message” as unappealing as that may sound.
@Joks
*but the will to power is largely about self mastery and mastery over the world. do the characters(using that word loosely) look like they are in control of their fate? if the horse gives up and refuses to continue living a life of servitude then perhaps that is quite F.N although his idea was to reverse the master-slave dynamic.
I thought the will to power referred to breaking free from one’s conscience, morals and the authority of God—basically what Raskolnikov does in C&P or the characters in Rope. I would think the will to power in reverse would be like reaffirming and re-embracing morals and the Judeo-Christian God.
i dont have time to explain Jazz im very busy right now
OK, cool. I know how this goes. If you ever have the time, though, I’m interested in hearing your thoughts, fwiw.
@Oxy
Did you get my point also re the monologue of the drunk at the bar that goes on and on in Sátántangó?
I haven’t seen the film, so I can’t comment.
However, if anyone can make the argument that the monologue in TH does mean something relative to the theme of the film, I would be glad to hear it.
Well, I got started with my first post, but I guess it wasn’t so compelling, huh? hahaha. Seriously, I have a hard time believing the monologue is a red herring. That seems almost childish. This isn’t a thriller or anything like that, so I can’t see the value of intentionally throwing viewers off.
Tarr relies on the mood he establishes with his long takes, lingering over a face, or a curtain in the wind. His is a cinema of very careful framing, lighting, and shot composition. All these trump the words in his films.
Ultimately, I agree with this. But the monologue seems to be a key guide to helping us interpret the images. As I mentioned, I think Malick uses a similar approach with his voice-overs—and this becomes more pronounced and vital as his films become more abstract and less interested in the narrative.^^I wouldn’t be so sure of that Jazz. I don’t think the relationship between the monologues and ‘meaning’ in Tarr’s films is quite as straight forward as it is in Malick’s films. Often i get the impression that Malick is using voice overs to paper over the cracks, and/or make his work more accessible. Tarr is far more ambiguous.
ROBERT: Did you like Turin Horse? I know you haven’t been that keen on Tarr in the past.
I appreciated how stripped down it was; its extreme vision of austerity.
As far as those kind of films go, it’s probably right up there with Colossal Youth imo, although it’s less innovative than that obviously. Liverpool is another great one, but i feel it’s certainly not up to the level of either T.H. or C.Y.
Often i get the impression that Malick is using voice overs to paper over the cracks, and/or make his work more accessible.
I don’t know. If you look at the films starting from The Thin Red Line, the voice-overs really don’t add or help the narrative or even the characters. Instead, they point to or pose questions about the ideas explored in the film. I’m at least pretty confident that the WH monologue also points to the ideas the film is concerned about. The TH monologue seems very, very similar. (Did you see and not like WH, btw? I think it’s a terrific film.)
re: Monologue. It’s a difficult one. As Oxymoron said above, you can’t take anything for granted in Tarr’s universe. That monologue almost plays like a parody of those kind of important speeches in films, particularly art films, and it’s exactly the kind of thing that audiences expect to get. When the man dismisses it, we laugh, partially because what he said is a tad pretentious, but also because generally in those kind of scenarios, we expect ‘characters’ to take it seriously and recognise something of great import. So already we know the scene is working on a few different levels.
So the real question will be then, is it possible for that scene to be both parodic, funny and meaningful, all at the same time? Sure, but that acknowledgement doesn’t really get us anywhere.
I get Jazz’s concern that there has to be more than a simple existential parable about the the harshness of life, which is what Tarr was hinting at in interviews when asked about it—although he didn’t use the words existential or parable—but i think ti’s important to keep in mind how almost ‘tactile’ the feelings are in the movie. When the lady goes out to fetch a pale of water, battling against gale force winds, you can feel it, just as you can feel the potato burning in the man’s hands.
JAZZ: i think at various points in The Thin Red Line the voice overs reveal something about the characters(their emotions, psychology, their understanding of the world etc). Not a lot granted, but often enough to get whhere they are coming from, or what they represent.
JAH
For other U.S. Americans who have an interest in this film, it’s getting a theatrical release here this winter.
http://www.indiewire.com/article/the_cinema_guild_acquires_bela_tarrs_award-winning_the_turin_horse/#
I’ve had an interest in Tarr for a little while now, thanks to a friend, but have yet to watch any of his films. Werckmeister Harmonies is next in my Netflix queue.