Monday 4 March 2013

Sight and Sound of Atonal Textures (Behindert (1974))

From http://www.cinemaontheroad.com/screenshots/Behindert1.png


Dir. Stephen Dwoskin
West Germany – United Kingdom

From http://www.cinemaontheroad.com/screenshots/Behindert4.png

If there is an inherent abstraction in film and motion footage as a form, it’s that it cannot stimulate all five senses a human being has in reality. Baring failed attempts at one of them, taste, smell and touch have yet to be fully implemented into cinema. Some of behaviour people partake in when watching films, as simple as eating food like popcorn, could be seen as their attempt to compensate for this fact and to avoid having to only see and hear for two hours or so. Film is about sight and sound. The only point further from this is pure ‘visual’ cinema which has no sort of soundtrack whatsoever as practiced by the late Stan Brakhage in his short films; beyond this you are projecting light on a screen and sticking objects directly onto celluloid, the later actually practiced by Brakhage as well, or you’re going to just conjure up images in your mind like literature does when you read it or when you have flights of fancy. Sight and sound, fitting choices of words for the well regarded film magazine from Britain to choose as it title, are the prime aspects of cinema and how it is made, how they are used and juxtaposed with, experimental cinema usually playing with this for effect.

From http://www.cinemaontheroad.com/screenshots/Behindert6.png

Behindert is an abstraction of a relationship drama. After a prolonged scene at a friend’s home for dinner, a woman (Carola Regnier) meets a disabled man (the director Stephen Dwoskin himself) and embark on a relationship together that is soured by their waning passions and, using the director’s own disability after childhood polio ceased his ability to use his legs, her frustrations of how he has to function differently without the same functions physically another person would have. Musically the score, when not allowing us to hear the characters speak, is that of atonal noises and an occasional piano. Visually the film starts a technical style of prolonged close-ups that would be continued in Tod und Teufel (1974) from the same year. Mostly made of close-ups, extreme close-ups and abstracted images, we are forced to scrutinise the characters, especially the woman in prolonged minutes. We see the lines and pores on her cheeks and eyelids, flawed but beautiful face with combed back red-brown hair, the contours and dimples of her wide mouthed smiles and frowns of sadness, and with Regnier’s deep, fathomless brown eyes, her emotions in lingering detail not followed though with in more conventional cinema. It’s voyeuristic at first, but feels more like you, the viewer, having to actually look at the people you see, their expressions and what they are thinking, their bodies in abstract positions in the microscopic lense of the film camera, and what they are thinking as you have to look at the images and them, set to noise, longer than another film. If there is a major critical flaw in the late Stephen Dwoskin’sf film, it’s that in vast contrast to Tod und Teufel, which took the same style to two scenes out of a Ingmar Bergman drama and stretched them out to a whole feature length, forcing you to look at the same actress’s eyes in raw, agonising emotion, it’s that, while his obsession with the image is fascinating, as looking at anything for myself and absorbing it in is inherently going to have an effect, he pushes it too far into what I would call “arch” experimental cinema. This is what I am calling, in vast contrast to experimental work that I find powerful and potent, films that purposely push themselves teasingly as experimental and end up being vague even in the point of the experimentation, or as this film does, ignores how its conception inherently conveys the concepts and covers them up in unnecessary excess. We don’t need the other prolonged moments looking at someone which are not connected to the others. We certainly do not need the proto-shaky camera of still moments and faces that felt deliberate rather than by accident. It lacks the power of the other film because it forces itself to push its central idea far too hardly when the inherent concept of a prolonged view of a woman’s face, staring straight at the camera – Dwoskin the character, Dwoskin the director or us? – is enough to challenge and affect a viewer.

From http://www.cinemaontheroad.com/screenshots/Behindert9.png

Sadly Dwoskin’s films are difficult to find. I am only lucky to have seen quite a few now because I still have contact with my old university and can still borrow materials from their library. This makes this review instantly abstract as, unless you can find the French box set like I found in that library or a bit torrent link, you can only conjure up the film in your minds. My lack of knowledge of harvesting images from the film to have screenshots does not help either, but thankfully they were available online and replicated here. If you can find it, see it baring in mind the patience needed for it. Hopefully the review will suggest however that to have to stare at another person’s face, even if it’s a replication in a movie, for a period longer than we usually do in reality has an immense effect on your thoughts. Its considered impolite or discomforting, understandably, at times in real life but considering the lack of connection between human beings at points, something like this, despite not succeeding well, suggests that one having far more eye contact with your fellow man or woman could ease a lot of closed up feelings. Sight, as well as sound, can have such an effect on a moment depending on how long it is.

From http://www.cinemaontheroad.com/screenshots/Behindert2.png

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