"I have the sin of the Cinephile" - Jean Luc Godard
I decided it was time to finally view a number of films that are indisputably considered classics of world cinema that I had embarrassingly neglected. Some of the selections are so embarrassing that I can’t even make them public.
It’s not so embarrassing that I haven’t seen Wild Strawberries, is it? Actually, I did see it, in film school. But I don’t remember it at all. I probably fell asleep when it was screened. Not to say I was bored with it, I just was overworked. So I decided to start with this Ingmar Bergman classic.
I think I should first say, before I go on, that I ended up not watching this film. I watched about 5 minutes of it. I shut it off. Actually, now that I’ve admitted that, I see no point in going on with this article. How could I?
But wait, perhaps it is interesting why I shut it off.
Ingmar Bergman made exceptional movies. You may not be a big fan, but no one can really deny his ability to tell a story on film. He was a master. And I think when I started to sense his mastery, started to smell, if you will, his command of what was being presented on the screen, this is why I shut it off. It held no interest to me because I felt hands sliding in underneath my bottom and I felt like I was lifted into the safe arms of Mr. Bergman, where he was about to cradle me and tell me his story. This time waking up, not in a film school classroom, but in a crib.
Most people, I think, need to feel those safe arms around them, need to recognize that smell before they can even begin to take in a film. For me, in that moment, and perhaps for ever more now, I was repulsed by it. I'm not sure what's wrong with me. But there most certainly is an ailment that I am inflicted with.
The first decade of this new century is almost in the books. We are no longer children, right? We’ve grown, haven’t we? Take your thumb out of your mouth and answer this. (And don't talk back to me, I'm a sick man) How much longer are we going to talk about Slumdog Millionaire?
-Peter Rinaldi
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7 comments:
I dissaprove of this lazy, wiseass post. It's easily the worst "SIN-E-FILE" posts you've done. Instead of being so thoroughly distracted by Slumdog, which you've probably spent more useless time in anger over this movie than the 5 paltry minutes you spend with a master of cinema, go back and give Bergman his due. A man who spent 60 plus years constantly working in cinema and the stage - digging and digging and more digging. A man who eye is like no one elses - completely his own - who somehow gets extraordinary performances almost EVERY time out. It's a shande that you toss away an entire career that quickly. I know this comes down to your love of Antonioni, who brilliant, but often times SCREAMS "I'M A GENIUS ARTISTS FILMMAKER" in large Neon lights. Bergman deserves slightly more than this take a piss blog post. I'm surprised that you would write something like this. A guy who NEVER, EVER pandered to any authority or film company - but was master only to his own vision - who worker on what he wanted to ONLY.
Of course, I don't write in real anger ... but I think you should worry less about Slumdog and just give a smidge more time to Ingmar.
I can't argue. I think...(gulp)...you're right.
But give me a break, man. look at the time stamp on that bad boy. I had spent the evening on a phone conversation with Michael Ventura talking about Cassavetes. I was still high. Slumdog is the anit-cassavetes. bergman doesn't deserve to me mentioned in the same post with Slumdog, but Bergmanmania started the "Hollywood convention hiding under foreign mystique" bull that has resulted in the success of Slumdog....
or something.
The hands not being on the clock. THE HANDS NOT BEING ON THE CLOCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that's what did it. I think I'm having a nervous breakdown. Was that in Wild Strawberries of Slumdog Millionaire?
If I remember correctly, the hands not being on the clock was a dream - a dream of himself dying. Also keep in mind, perhaps the clock without hands was not such a cliche in 1957. These films helped bring foreign films to America - perhaps without the popularity of these films, we wouldn't be watching as many foreign films in our country. You should go out and rent and watch the starkness and simplicity of WINTER LIGHT. It's, dare I say, as cold and stark as any Antonionni film.
Mr. Rinaldi,
All this frivalous talk about "Wild Strawberries", everyone knows her best work was "The Bells of Saint Mary's"
Palmcoast
I wish I was sitting next to you in school watching you fall asleep when this film was played.
Oh. I guess that's off topic.
I am surprised that you turned off the film. One thing I have noticed about you is that in most cases, you finish what you start... i've watched you read and watch things to the end, even if you're not enjoying it much.
Oh... and not that not finishing something that you start is necessarily bad. sometimes it's good. unless we are in the habit of it...which you are not.
life is too short.
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