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10 memories of 2008. Film History

is nothing original, but as I enjoy it from the lists I will repeat what I did Last year, for which I'm staying with the ten literary and cinematic moments that I think will remain in my memory. I know this is a bit exhibitionist and narcissistic (is not that the essence of a blog?), but not I can approach the year just a more objective one:). We started to film.

Manoel de Oliveira

No doubt that this has been their year, as much as its centenary met a few days ago, has not been just media coverage. So it seems in Portugal has done something and, for our part, at least in Madrid have been afortunadísimos to enjoy the Film of a complete retrospective of his work , visiting teacher included. The only thing that gives a bit of grief is the low coverage, both media and institutional levels (embarrassing day of the tour de Oliveira, who was alone in the room to overflowing, when they finished the run, interview photos, and finally going to start the movie, two entire rows of politicians from the Portuguese embassy and do not know if from somewhere else got up and left), which has led to a somewhat lukewarm response from the public. Anyway, it was a joy to his followers, and a unique opportunity to see certain movies.


EDWARD YANG

Another Film cycle, and even less responsive to the public. I had previously only seen Yi Yi, which I love, but Yang showed in his seven previous films and was a major name in contemporary cinema. A pity his early death and how little is done to your film, being in a limbo somewhere between an auteur more moderate and glare Tsai Ming Liang's aesthetic and, above all, his friend Hou Hsiao Hsien, who sponsored the Taiwanese New Wave. However, it seems to me not less brilliant than personal or neither.


NEW GARREL

still shocked by his latest creation, dawn The border, this has been a year that I've also been enjoying two of the most important films of race (although Garrel's hard to choose): L'enfant secret and J'entends plus la guitare. Seldom in the latter has been more narrow, violent and necessary film-life relationship.

MAY 68


Much has been made this year's 40th anniversary of the May 68 French. And as such, has spoken of the student revolts of the Cannes festival, the Nouvelle Vague, Godard's ... The mainstream media have done everything that an icon, treating it with a superficiality that comes to frighten, but in other circuits have also been able to see what was really behind and sediment originated. On the subject there are several important films (I can not name two weaknesses as The Mother and the Whore réguliers and Les Amants), and I was able to take courses like the important DocumentaMadrid or DVD editions to discover gems like the bottom of the air is red, Chris Marker, or the spirited creations of Godard and the group D. Vertov. Unfortunately, I could not go to any other film series on the topic that was done in the Reina Sofia and also aimed too high.




DISTANT VOICES has also been the year of my discovery of Terence Davies, of which I have seen three films. Superb result The Long Day Closes and more classic The House of Mirth, but my favorite is the masterpiece that makes the whole entire decades old British social cinema of the day: Distant voices, which for years had heard that it was a film anchored aging and its joint. What a surprise to see it! Few directors have a vision or evocative as Terence Davies, who sows wrap films of metaphors and ellipses and transitions between scenes are breathtaking. His visual poems appeal to all senses, and one cast, a cut scene of his, worth more than miles of film of their peers.


COEN / PTA

To contrast with the above and give some optimism to the list, this year has surprised for good business by receiving some excellent films, with narrative forms which do not look like that are fashionable to break box office, and who have triumphed even in Oscar . I mean No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood, the Coen brothers and Paul Thomas Anderson. It is also true that the consensus on these films is not widespread, and I believe that the ambitious journey of Paul Thomas Anderson could have been even more successful, but give a point of hope for films that attempt to advance the standards of commercial cinema.


Liebelei

A Max Ophüls all-time classic that until recently was impossible to see. To demonstrate that the Austrian artist masterpieces also made long before its passage by the U.S.. With a little less baroque style in its latest creations, Liebelei is light, funny and corrosive irony and shows a subtlety is narration and description is the house brand of the best Ophüls. Many great directors of today are the sons bottom ...!




Paranoid Park Paranoid Park Van Sant brings us a more narrative after his death trilogy, which seems (see what awaits us in January) the author mainstream desvolvernos least we like Will Hunting or Forrester. However, Paranoid Park is a great movie, at times brilliant and unsurpassed, able to get us to Dostoevsky in his particular universe of distressed adolescents through formal treatment less minimalist than his later works, but happy to experiment in other ways.


CRUCIFIED LOVERS

Another classic no doubt that he had not seen so far, with the help of an all-pervasive in this type of list: Kenji Mizoguchi . Set in the dazzling stretch in the Japanese director's career when it seemed he would not have time to show everything I had to give the world, crucified lovers is the best example of melodrama perfect, simple but exquisite in their execution, just with the characters and with irreproachable ethics cinematic exudes a wisdom that goes beyond an artistic creation. And all this without sacrificing emotion, argument, and even tears.


INDIA SONG

Finally, the most famous film of Marguerite Duras, usually eclipsed by the fame of its sister film, Last Year at Marienbad. Perhaps the Resnais ultimately have been more influential in the future of cinema, but we must not lose sight of India song, and not neglect the subtle relationships of this strange trio of Resnais, Duras and Robbe-Grillet. In any case, the hand of Duras has some advantages over that of Resnais, and the movie comes out less pompous, perhaps even more arid, and with a load of pretentious, I think, fortunately much lower. A Hard tiing not so much interested in a particular argument, but let us live the feelings pure an evocation of somewhere between dreams, legend and reality.

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Christmas

My Carol favorite contemporary cinema.

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(s) of Sebald. The memory of the emigrants arrived

The following text was originally published in the journal Shangri-La. Drifts and fiction apart included in the Case Report / s of Auschwitz. You can check the summary and download the entire journal this link.

Perhaps exile, with its variants of uprooting, flight, loss and recovery of memory, is the great issue of the literary work German WG Sebald. Died in car accident in 2001, when their success began to flourish internationally in the critical work of great French literature, Hispanic and, particularly, Anglo-Saxon, with Susan Sontag in the lead, we can say that yours is the great Holocaust book is not about the Holocaust. Or at least, that is not directly.

Exile and memory are two issues that are inevitably linked, probably due to the emotional needs that arise retrospective distance to the place of origin. The exile can occur through different pathways, having a spatial or temporal nature, physical or emotional however, they are all closely related, if its most a matter of short or long term personal sensitivity: an exile prolonged space ends up being temporary, just as a physical exile is leaving emotional scars over the months and years. Sebald, above all, is aware of its own history, you know where it comes from and what are their roots, and makes it all his great maxim, moral justice.

WG Sebald's father worked in the Wehrmacht, name given to the German armed forces during the Third Reich, and it is not unreasonable to think that this would inevitably influence the sensitivity of the writer, whose works abound in the characters of Jewish descent, with conditional lives more or less by the great catastrophe of the twentieth century West. But Sebald is not interested in showing the direct impact of the Holocaust. We will not see in his novels (or essays, or books of travel, or any designation to receive her creations are always so personal that cross genres) the manner in which the Jews were crowded into the wagons of a freight train headed for communal showers or walking to the gas chambers. Sebald let the story of the drama of that moment is undertaken by those who experienced it directly, either Primo Levi, or his friend Irene Némirovski Jean Amery, whose relationship would mark him deeply. What interests the German author, and is interested because, morally, is what he should have, which is able to count are the traces of this misfortune, the way the manifest anonymous lives around certain signs, how the large leaves theory and history is reflected in the margins of the intra, full of codes, signals and echoes of events which have a range much greater than that at first glance it may seem. The important thing Sebald's books, beyond its impressive erudition, his load of data, references and the thoroughness with which is very specific cases (without neglecting the science or technology in its more specific, quite interested in all) which in other hands would go unnoticed, is the global sense, bringing together the ethical and the aesthetic and the covers of life, real cool breeze along the road. The important thing Sebald's books is the ability to stimulate the reader, to make him see that the history textbooks is not merely a theoretical abstraction or a mere accumulation of statistics, history can be reflected in the neighbor down every day to buy bread in elder care for your garden every morning, or classmate of your child, without anyone knowing you have to learn every day to grow up without parents who gobbled history. History is silent, do not cry, never protest, and danger, Sebald seems to say, is that humans become infected by being complicit in this silence possible injustices.

On this particular issue is one of Sebald's books are still raising more dust, and that most directly addresses the issue of the Second World War: "On the natural history of destruction." In this short essay in which there is no doubt of its kind because, probably, the seriousness of the issue can not be addressed, with a profusion of names, dates, facts and statistics of all kinds, forgetting, for part of German literature, the absolute destruction of many cities by the Allies. Perhaps due to a feeling of guilt in a logical way for allowing the expansion and barbarism of the Nazi regime (is this feeling of guilt which leads to Sebald into exile and be so hard on their own country?), It seems that the writers denounce what cost them their own people had suffered in those times when the world pointed to Germany with his finger. Sebald, beyond resentment and feelings dark moth-eaten, is scandalized by this behavior, and it shows in his essay a ferocity never seen it, so cold and objective in their writing and their opinions. If anything characterizes all his work, regardless of the issues already mentioned, is the careful observation, which seeks to every detail and review, analyzing own and others' behavior, but never make a trial less a verdict. The author's interest in his characters is almost anthropological, and perhaps this is not to force too emotionally involved (yes, much in the intellectual), always showing respect and admiration for them almost reverential. So there must be a very deep-rooted within Sebald to come out of his pen "on the natural history of destruction." In his diatribe are present almost all major names of postwar German literature: among others, Max Frisch, Hermann Kasack, Arno Schmidt, and even authors such as Alexander Kluge, of great influence in his own work. The only author who saves, even making clear certain literary weaknesses, as a "tendency to exaggeration and false philosophical significance" 1, Hans Erich Nossack. As Guillermo Piro said in his review of the book in Pagina/12:

For Sebald, a writer has a moral imperative to write what happened, denying any kind of artifice, appeals to the "accuracy and accountability "" The ideal of truth is, before total destruction, as the only legitimate reason to continue the literary work. "

Similarly, as discussed in the same review, Sebald refuses to admit that sometimes it is necessary to forget to live on, probably blinded by a desire for moral justice that is too large even for someone like him . All this makes this a strange book belligerent trial, a rarity in his work, taken over by the tone than substance. And certainly we will always know what you thought of this masterpiece of American literature, Slaughterhouse-Five, in which Kurt Vonnegut, away from any pretense of rigor or documentary, provides the clearer picture and, in keeping with the events, paranoid about it. Because yes, the self who lived those bombing of Dresden.

Even so, we must bear in mind this book Sebald, not only for knowledge of their content, sincerity or passion that sets out its ideas, but because it can operate as a hub on which to understand the rest of his bibliography, beyond its appearance of "work island." So good, you can understand this silence German as another consequence of the Holocaust, albeit in an opposite direction to that of his other books, aimed now at a counterproductive guilt, and this contributes to the creation of this great mosaic of the author which show traces of an event so decisive in the evolution of the twentieth century. The relationship between exile, memory and guilt is immediate, and everything is built through history. Sebald seems to say that only distance allows the survival analysis, but sometimes it is necessary to address a more acute critical to all that, little by little, is falling into complacency. It is indispensable to the struggle against forgetting.


precisely against this oversight is addressed much formal work of the German author's work. The evocation of the past is not a gimmicky gadget Sebald of nostalgia, quite the contrary, evocations arising from the elusive details of everyday life, detailed observation of reality and its intimate relationship with the past of the author or a global western culture. For this reason it is fair to place Sebald and Proust postmodern heir (so immediate reference to him as may be Bernhard Borges), making intimate evocation live teacher reference and pastiche. But, and this is important, Proust's aesthetic emotion is always subject to a rigorous ethical Sebald ("consequence of being a child of his homeland and the events experienced in the twentieth century?) That conditions at all times the narrative. Thus, fits German author in an artistic movement which renews the world of culture from multiple angles without having to blow up the past, but knowing that you have to break the established corporate cultural underworld. Authors such as Enrique Vila-Matas in Spain or the Portuguese filmmakers like Pedro Costa would be champions of this vision nonconformist art in the middle of a fight that was never terminated. If the first of these authors there is a clear relationship that extends from its vast cultural background to the disappearance of the frontier reality and fiction and its dissolution with the narrator / author as well as some stylistic similarities with the Portuguese, a priori, no such connection. However, it seems entirely comparable not only the risk of both artists, but its fundamental commitment to prevail above all ethical and aesthetic rigor, the transgression of the documentary from fiction (and vice versa) and the devotion of reference. If Pedro Costa speaks through his images of John Ford and Jacques Tourneur, Sebald seems to articulate the dead voices of teachers to whom literature owes everything it is today. In this dichotomy ethics, aesthetics, or to integrate into each other, are surely the most pleasing prospects of contemporary art.

This adherence to the forefront by Sebald is, at least, curious, since the author, in his books, seems to invoke the opposite. The appreciation of the quiet, the ride, the recovery of memory, learning and a taste for the classics, the absence of rhetoric and strict personal morality seem to hide anyone except modern. But at certain levels and do not need to prove anything, just read their works.

It was therefore necessary in the world of letters the presence of a new way of looking at history, so far in some things like the next in other academic texts or simple informative works. Sebald stands to see where one stops, and that's the greatness of his creation. It is also aware that the contemporary look and can not be a pure gaze, as the barrage of information and references that are currently working with is almost infinite, and this circumstance is used by the author without attempting to give a distorted impression of own subjectivity. Simply, it is openly exposing what is evoked, knowing that our way of looking at history lives in constant evolution. Precisely on the alleged defilement of the look in his comments Sebald Vertigo Stendhal's ideas about the persistence of memory and its relation to the representation:

In his writings, confesses to having experienced Beyle great disappointment when, a few years, revising old papers, suddenly encountered an engraving entitled prospettiva d'Iver and had to admit that the picture was held in memory of the city by the evening light was but a copy of this engraving. So advises Beyle, you should not buy prints of beautiful and scenic panoramas that you see when you are traveling, because suddenly everything takes a print from a memory space, could even be argued that kills him. Despite your best efforts made, for example, could not remember the Madonna of San Sisto wonderful he saw in Dresden, as had been covered by the recorded Muller had made it, in contrast, obnoxious pastel paintings by Mengs who were in the same gallery, of never and nowhere had lodged a copy, as if I had remembered before the eyes.

What Stendhal states applied to art, or travel in general, you can also extrapolate the concept of historical memory / personal memory, which is directly related to one of the most visible features Sebald's books: the presence of black and white images of photographs, newspaper clippings, posters, manuscripts schemes, or anything that helps evoked memory relate to recovered memory, while aid to the aforementioned blurring of boundaries between reality and fiction.

Beyond the undoubted artistic achievements, Sebald is a writer who exemplifies the scope of one blast from the trauma of the Holocaust in the twentieth century, both in the way it affects you personally and in the perception of dark tracks transferred to the cultural world or the public and private lives of those who suffered directly or indirectly. If Godard said that cinema's great failure was not giving the world an image of the Holocaust, we can not deny that all art forms of the twentieth century made us rethink, from these horrendous crimes, a new way of looking at history and warily addressed the fervor of events. In the world that remained after the Holocaust, which inevitably are all children, regardless of nationalities and borders, it becomes essential to search for identity, searching for an innocence and roots that probably have no home, just so that the hero of Austerlitz, the latest novel (and the more clearly be defined as a novel) of Sebald. Here, Jacques Austerlitz is a character interchangeable with the narrator, do not know if the real Sebald. The son of a Prague Jewish actress, comes to England in a wagon train full of children rescued from Nazi extermination, and grows oblivious to what happened in the place they came to that, at some point, it forces you to know their origins and overcome the trauma that deprived him of old Europe the education of their parents in central European city. And so comes the prowl in Europe, the ride, as always in Sebald, which reflects much more than refracted, and feeling free of tears and anger, there is always something beyond what we know about ourselves . The story of Jacques Austerlitz is the history of Europe, and the search for identity is the search for the transnational identity as well as authors have defined Claudio Magris and Sebald himself. Austerlitz, the novel, condensing probably best of the author and is a superb testament, which not only returns to familiar locations, such European capitals as defined by its architecture or the Theresienstadt concentration camp to which he returns after The incursion into emigrant, it takes a final tour de force theme that acts as a sounding board for all his work and placing it as the great twentieth-century author of the report and the (intra) European history.


One of the signs indicating that a current author who died recently, has become a classic is to refer to him in this. In this article, unconsciously, I said in mind the thoughts that I have suggested reading Sebald's work, not realizing until the end. Sebald is not present, the vortex has passed and the fever has passed, at which point the classical avant-garde and shake hands.

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Shangri-La. Report / s of Auschwitz

Download and required reading. Shangri-La has reached a four-month appointment, this time with a great and ambitious folder, which focuses on probably the key historical moment of the twentieth century and its impact on cinema and literature. For my part, I have a modest text on the relationship Sebald literature of the Holocaust, later also put here.

can see the summary and download the number
HERE.