Spyros, a man soured by a secret, incestuous love for his daughter, on the day of her wedding, gives up his position as a schoolteacher, his wife and his home to take up again the profession of his father and grandfather: to tend the bees.
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Bees. Beekeeping. The tending of controlled chaos. The buzzing of bees is chaos. The buzzing of bees is the sound of the unconscious. The keeper (the keeper of order) is the ego. Sex is the catalyst for rupture and, well, chaos. Angelopoulos seems like an honorary Italian (Mastroianni!) channeling, as always, both Rossellini and Antonioni. Here he also channels Wenders' German road movies ... nearly surpassing them.
It took me two viewings to realise how good this was. The first time I saw it I thought it was good and very pretty. For some reason on the second viewing it overwhelmed me ... maybe if I was smarter and more articulate I could explain this better ...
Beautifully bleak images of Greek, a great contrast to the images many of us know from the popular holiday destination. The bleakness of the landscape suits the film fantastically. Mastroianni is fantastic.
5/10. Contemplative with some astounding images and scenes, THE BEEKEEPER nonetheless suffers from a bleak outlook on sexual perversity. I left the theater feeling glum and like I should take a shower.