The hero of Instructions for a Light and Sound Machine is easy to identify. Walking down the street unknowingly, he suddenly realizes that he is not only subject to the gruesome moods of several spectators but also at the mercy of the filmmaker.
Austrian avant-garde master Peter Tscherkassky’s this brilliantly assaultive Cinemascope short. Using maniacally artisanal analog methods, he turns Sergio Leone’s The Good, the Bad and the Ugly into a black & white celluloid action spectacular.
A fascinating experience. Sergio Leone's The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is reworked into a meta-text about the relationship between the protagonist and the filmmaker, as well as the spectator's role in that relationship.
Wow, this blew my mind! Loved it! Totally new awesome discoveries like this or, for instance, L'Inhumane which I watched on it's last day are part of what I love about Mubi. Turning me on to new things, while also celebrating our favorites.
Achievement of a film made of sound and image in fury, of a clear and full inventiveness on materials/matters of (a) film. From the dramaturgies of other films,it's builded a freedom of reframing and subvertion, making images free of fictional premises and provide them with a libertarian and liberating registration of feelings and senses. Signifiers on parade without counterpoint.
Tscherkassky compresses what seems to be footage from a western into 16 minutes of a scramble of epileptic arrhythmia, nigthmarish imagery and desintegrating but intensely symbolic semantics. All in an atmosphere that resembles cold war brainwashing. Then, psychedelic patterns and industrial sound pulses. Maybe this saturation of stimuli could be a search of catharsis. Or maybe a way to cause excessive disconfort.
isolates and unfurls the macho paranoia which is the anima of the western movie tradition and weaves a spectral panorama of male ghouls lost upon a celluloid prairie without narrative or guiding myth other than the impetus of their own fear confusion bloodlust propelled by the colonialist's perpetual discomfort and violent restlessness - the most honest western ever made, then
Tscherkassy's remix of material from "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly" seems a bit too long at the end. But nonetheless there are very good parts like the sequences where he works with Sergio Leone's gunfight sounds or reflects the movements and gestures of the actors.
I've enjoyed Tscherkassky. I've liked his inquiries and extrapolations... But my god this is perfect. If Vertov provided cinema's Rosetta Stone, this is the realization of its cryptography, in poetry; its embodiment as philosophical event. Most exciting to me is that Schaefer's contribution is thus more integral than in their other collaborations, bringing sound to a theoretical forefront that it's too often denied.