Friday, 12 December 2014
The film feels a little strange. It feels… We grasp for an image as it flies past the window. Stretching out we…we strain, we grab, we…we…we’ve got it! Bringing it back into the room we open our hands and see: a crazy editor high on amphetamines. Cutely diminutive he trembles in our palms. “What’s wrong”, we ask. “The director was odd and manic, and I couldn't stand it so I started taking a shed-load of tablets halfway through the editing.” He became frenetic with insight and he cut with woeful extravagance; scene after scene falling to the floor, where they waited for the cleaner and her big black bag. She never missed a morning. Always there at six o’clock each day.
Sunday, 30 November 2014
They’re larking about. This piece could finish now. The whole movie described by a single word: fun.
Is there more to this film than two girls going crazy? An early shot of a psychedelic apple tree suggests that a moral fable exists amongst the wonderfully confusing images of this odd movie. The two characters, who are both called Marie, themselves say they have gone to the bad, and proceed to indulge - and to delight in indulging - their own and other people’s sin. Although there is the suspicion that their acts are only anarchic parodies of a life they do not wish to lead. Is it all just a game? Is nothing for real?
Thursday, 27 November 2014
The black is everywhere. There is a pink table. A mirror. A painting. A vase of free flowers bursting out into the room. There are some sketches. A woman is sitting on a chair. She is reading. Although she could be asleep; her arm and elbow on the table, her fist is resting against her head.
Her black skirt moves as her skittle legs swing.
The words on the page, invisible to us who can read only a white blank, are revealed by these curious legs. They look like skittles and exist half-way between crossed and astride. The right leg. In the act of swinging? Or is it coming to rest on a knee... Both legs are red with flaming life; as is the face, arms and neck. This woman is glowing.
Here is movement.
Sunday, 23 November 2014
Once again you’ve gone too far. A few weeks of freedom and look what you’ve got yourself up to.
Well, you know…
We let you out on bail on the condition that you stopped beating up academics. You were freed on good faith, as you seemed genuinely contrite and…
…and I appeared to have had a good education. I talk well, don’t I?
Oh, I know you didn't actually say this; but isn't that what you meant?
Ha! You have too much sauce young man. And now look what you’ve gone and done: punching that professor in his lower paragraphs and head-butting his sentences. You’re going back inside, you know.
But wait; I…
Look. It’s no use…
But listen! Just you listen to this.
Friday, 21 November 2014
The form of this film is also its meaning. What is this form? It is best described by analogy: it is like the interior monologues of Leopold Bloom. Scenes vividly delineated, so that both the characters and the action take on large elements of caricature - The Cremator more Czech expressionism than Czech surrealism -, suddenly shift to others equally striking; the only connecting link a word, an image or a metaphor they both share. This is a film constructed out of a complex series of association of ideas. David Hume the major influence on a movie made under a regime where Karl Marx held the monopoly on thought.