Een acht uur durende meditatie over de gekmakende volharding van verdriet in deze wereld, verteld in drie delen waarbij een prostituee, een pooier en een non worden gevolgd die over het platteland dwalen.
Een onnoemelijk aantal mensen is door de jaren heen verdwenen in de Filipijnen, voor, tijdens en na het dictatorschap van Marcos. Melancholia is gewijd aan het verdriet en de zoektocht naar de betekenis van de verdwijningen, verteld door verschillende lagen mensen uit de Filipijnse maatschappij.
I've learned anything you can say about a Lav Diaz film seems quite trite in relation to the experience of actually watching one. This film probably has more rain than any other, carrying with it all the sadness of not only the Filipino nation - as is common with Lav Diaz - but now also the universal human symbiosis and almost dependency on melancholy. Modern sadness is a driving force for social connection.
I am pleased I do not have to unpack this thing for you in detail, because I spend a lot of my time w/ these Diaz pics cocooned in a trance-state. Got briefly lost 'round hour six. So, Evolution of a Filipino Family was about national identity, this one is about personal identity. Personal identity swathed in metaphysics. Really, really made me think of doing mescaline. The noise band is delightful and very awful.
I think this one is far more challenging and needs more patience than other films by Lav Diaz I've seen up to now. The idea of sadness/melancholy as impuls and reason for every human expression, activity and art leads us into the heart of his poetics but also into the center of his politcal thinking. He creates some powerful as well as intimate sequences to underline this statement.
I think I fell asleep literally when the first credit appeared, woke maybe 10 minutes later. Went to take my contacts out, and when I couldn't grasp anything I started gouging at my eyeballs, pinching harder and harder to pull something out, scraping the surface of my eyes. Only after both of my eyes were blood red did I realize I had been wearing glasses the entire time. There was nothing there in my eyes to find.
Infuriatingly protracted in some longer than needed episodes, Diaz's melancholic saga offers a unique perpsective on how reality (from the individual self and personal mourning to the collective loss) reveals itself in long static shots. These tesify to the directors' gifts mainly in exterior shots in the jungle or elsewhere. His sense for aural scultpure creates a palpable world of mundane despair and identity loss.