domingo, 29 de dezembro de 2013

Trilha do Dia









« J’ai dit un jour que Louis Lumière avait inventé la télévision, et pas le cinéma. Ce n’était pas une blague. Ses opérateurs faisaient dès les années 1910 de la publicité pour une marque de savon, et ils allaient projeter ces petits films à domicile. Mais la meilleure preuve que cette théorie tient la route, c’est que ce qu’on appelait jadis le public populaire, celui qui fait vivre les films et les personnages, c’est devant la télé, et nulle part ailleurs, qu’on le trouve aujourd’hui. Si j’étais cinéaste, c’est à lui que je m’adresserais exclusivement. Dans une salle de cinéma, les spectateurs prennent souvent les films pour de la blanquette de veau tellement il fait noir. Ça n’arrive pas à la télé. Réfléchissez-y deux ou trois minutes, en plein jour. Ça n’arrive jamais à la télévision. »

sábado, 28 de dezembro de 2013



"A verdade é que o homem é o único animal selvagem da criação. O homem foi o único animal que fugiu. Os outros animais são todos domésticos; todos eles acatam a inflexível respeitabilidade da tribo e da espécie."

GARREL

"I know very well that parts of the films are naturalistic, but I try to avoid that. As for the rapport between the actors, I have returned to written scenes with partly improvised dialogue in written situations. In writing my last film, Jealousy, I began to let the actors improvise. There was dialogue for them in order to learn their roles, to define the situations well, but I let them improvise parts of scenes. Now, as when I made films that were too autobiographical, the problem is how to escape naturalism. If you tell a strictly true story, because the way you are telling it is false, it creates naturalism. We improvise as well, and we end up capturing more of real life. There are gushes of unconscious attitude in the situation. But at the same time, I also become a naturalist. And to become a naturalist is something I avoid, in fact. It is fake life—that is the problem. It is because we are familiar with situationnisme, and the critique of the spectacle, et cetera, which is a very fair criticism. People who have no life, and who watch this fake life on a screen—it's a very alienated situation. And that's what situationnisme is about. But I'm not able to completely escape naturalism. It's very difficult to escape from naturalism without being too dry. That's what I try to do in my cinema—escape naturalism and do films that are, at the same time, realistic but have a lot of fantasy. It's very difficult in cinema to get away from what life is about, from real life. The way the actors work has to be realistic—you can't do Baroque acting—so it's very complicated. And, we're human beings, so we're not perfect. I'm trying to do something different, but it's a complicated question."

sexta-feira, 20 de dezembro de 2013

D. Buñuel


Road into the Valley - Moonrise, Edward Steichen 


"Tu t'en vas sans moi, ma vie.
Tu roules,
Et moi j'attends encore de faire un pas.
Tu portes ailleurs la bataille.
Tu me déserts ainsi.
Je ne t'ai jamais suivie.
Je ne vois pas clair dans tes offres.
Le petit peu que je veux, jamais tu ne l'apportes.
A cause de ce manque, j'a aspire à tant.
À tant de choses, à presque l'infini...
À cause de ce peu qui manque, que jamais tu n'apportes."

"Take another of Raphael's personifications, Poetry [Imagem 1], or better still his ravishing drawing for that figure [Imagem 2]. From one point of view it is a pictorial sign with the obvious and enumerable attributes of the wings, the lyre and the book. But this vision not only signifies Numine afflatur, it also displays or expresses it. The sign limits are blurred. The upturned gaze may still be a conventional sign for inspiration, carried by the tradition of art from ancient times, but the tense beauty of the figure is Raphael's own, and not even he could quite transfer and repeat it, for it may well be that the finished image is a little less convincing as an embodiment of the Divine afflatus though it has an added wreath."



E. Gombrich, Symbolic Images: Studies in the Art of the Renaissance

sexta-feira, 13 de dezembro de 2013

Trilha do Dia










(Wundersamer Park III, Bernd Streiter)




"Alguns se perguntam se o pintor tem necessidade de saber outra coisa além de ver e se servir de sua técnica.

Dizem, por exemplo: muitos maus pintores conheceram a anatomia que muitos bons pintores ignoraram. Logo, nada de anatomia.

O mesmo raciocínio para a ciência da perspectiva.

Digo-lhes que seria preciso conhecer tudo; mas, de preferência, saber utilizar o que se conhece.

Vê-se de modo completamente diverso um objeto cuja estrutura se conhece. Não se trata de mostrar músculos sob a pele, mas de pensar um pouco no que está embaixo dela. Isso leva a um questionário profundo. Não vejo senão vantagens nisso.

Mas eis uma observação que faço: quanto mais se afasta a época em que a perspectiva e anatomia não eram negligenciadas, mais a pintura se restringe ao trabalho de observação do modelo, menos ela inventa, compõe e cria.

O abandono da anatomia e da perspectiva foi simplesmente o abandono da ação do espírito na pintura em favor apenas do divertimento instantâneo do olho.

A pintura europeia perdeu nesse momento algo de sua vontade de poder...

E, por conseguinte, de sua liberdade.

Quem se lançaria hoje na empreitada de um Michelangelo ou de um Tintoretto, isto é, numa invenção que brinca com os problemas de execução, que enfrenta os grupos, os escorços, os movimentos, as arquiteturas, os atributos e naturezas-mortas, a ação, a expressão e o cenário, com uma temeridade e um prazer extraordinários?"

Paul Valéry - Degas Dança Desenho


"É a infalível natureza que criou o parricídio e a antropofagia, e mil outras abominações que o pudor e a delicadeza nos impedem de nomear. É a filosofia (refiro-me à boa), é a religião que nos ordena alimentar nossos pais pobres e enfermos. A natureza (que é apenas voz do interesse) manda abatê-los. 

Passemos em revista, analisemos tudo o que é natural, todas as ações e desejos do puro homem natural, nada encontraremos senão o horror. Tudo quanto é belo e nobre é o resultado da razão e do cálculo. O crime, cujo gosto o animal humano hauriu no ventre da mãe, é originalmente natural. A virtude, ao contrário, é artificial, sobrenatural, já que foram necessários, em todas as épocas e em todas as nações, deuses e profetas para ensiná-la à humanidade animalizada, e que o homem, por si só, teria sido incapaz de descobri-la. 

O mal é praticado sem esforço, naturalmente, por fatalidade; o bem é sempre o produto de uma arte."



"We know nothing of this going.
It excludes us. Faced with death,
what cause have we to respond
with the fear and grief or even hatred
that twist the features to a mask of tragedy?
On this side of death we play roles.
So long as we seek to please the audience,
death, who needs no approval, plays us.
When you died, there broke across the stage,
through the gash your leaving made,
a shaft of reality: green of real green,
real sunlight, real trees.
Still we keep acting: fearful and solemn,
reciting our script, taking on gestures.
But you, who have been withdrawn from us,
subtracted from our very being,
now and again you overcome us,
showing us the reality we glimpsed,
so that for a while, jolted back, we are life
with no thought of applause.


"Son verbe ne fut pas un aveugle bélier mais la toile où s'inscrivit mon souffle."



"As I have said, as an anarch I have nothing to do with the partisans. I wish to defy society not in order to improve it, but to hold it at bay no matter what. I suspend my achievements – but also my demands. 


As for the do-gooders, I am familiar with the horrors that were perpetrated in the name of humanity, Christianity, progress. I have studied them. I do not know whether I am correctly quoting a Gallic thinker: 'Man is neither an animal nor an angel; but he becomes a devil when he tries to be an angel.'" (Ernst Jünger, Eumeswil)


"The ship is a symbol of temporal existence, the forest a symbol of supratemporal Being. In our nihilistic epoch, optical illusions multiply and motion seems to become pervasive. Actually, however, all the contemporary display of technical power is merely an ephemeral reflection of the richness of Being. In gaining access to it, and be it only for an instant, man will gain inward security: the temporal phenomena will not only lose their menace, but they will assume a positive significance. We shall call this reorientation toward Being the retreat into the forest (Waldgang), and the man who carries it out the wanderer in the forest (Waldgänger). Similar to the term "worker" (Arbeiter), it signifies a scale of values. For it applies not only to a variety of forms of activity, but also to various stages in the expression of an underlying attitude. The term has its prehistory in an old Icelandic custom. The retreat into the forest followed upon proscription. Through it a man asserted his will to survive by virtue of his own strength. That was held to be honorable, and it is still so today in spite of all commonplaces to the contrary.


Wanderers in the forest (Waldgänger) are all those who, isolated by great upheavals, are confronted with ultimate annihilation. Since this could be the fate of many, indeed, of all, another defining characteristic must be added: the wanderer in the forest (Waldgänger) is determined to offer resistance. He is willing to enter into a struggle that may appear hopeless. Hence he is distinguished by an immediate relationship to freedom which expresses itself in the fact that he is prepared to oppose the automatism and to reject its ethical conclusion of fatalism. If we look at him in this fashion, we shall understand the role which the retreat into the forest (Waldgang) plays not only in our thoughts but also in the realities of our age. Everyone today is subject to coercion, and the attempts to banish it are bold experiments upon which depends a destiny far greater than the fate of those who dare to undertake them. The retreat into the forest (Waldgang) is not to be understood as a form of anarchism directed against the world of technology, although this is a temptation, particularly for those who strive to regain a myth.

Undoubtedly, mythology will appear again. It is always present and arises in a propitious hour like a treasure coming to the surface. But man does not return to the realm of myth, he reencounters it when the age is out of joint and in the magic circle of extreme danger. It is not a question therefore of choosing the forest or the ship but of choosing both the forest and the ship. The number of those who want to abandon the ship is growing, and among them are clear heads and fine minds. But it amounts to a disembarkation in mid-ocean. Hunger will follow, and cannibalism, and the sharks: in short, all the terrors that have been reported from the raft of Medusa. Hence it is advisable under all circumstances to stay aboard even at the danger of being blown up. This objection is not directed against the poet who reveals — through his life as well as through his work — the vast superiority of the artistic universe over the world of technology. He helps man to rediscover himself: the poet is a wanderer in the forest (Waldgänger), for authorship is merely another form of independence." (Ernst Jünger, Der Waldgang)

domingo, 8 de setembro de 2013


Momento de trégua entre um soldado alemão e um britânico durante a Primeira Guerra Mundial.
"Sí, el tiempo y la paciencia son la clave. Todo lo que está en la película, que es del orden de las ideas, tiene que ser el resultado de un encuentro. Pero los cineastas de hoy son muy precipitados. Sufren de una enfermedad que es la urgencia, que está muy ligada a la plata. Si tienes dinero haces una película inmediatamente. Jean Renoir, el mayor cineasta de todos, decía de sí mismo “soy lento, soy un cineasta” y para mí es una gran verdad. El cine para mí es sinónimo de paciencia, de observación. Varias veces empecé a producir un proyecto, incluso obtuve financiamiento para empezarlo, pero decidí abandonarlo porque no sentí una fuerte necesidad de hacer la película. Pero actualmente la mayoría de los directores no tiene el coraje de decir “Este filme no es necesario”."



«Tinha virado mesmo uma vagabundo? Ficava pensando ao invés de me lançar diretamente ao trabalho... Na verdade, no fundo, eu fazia pouca força para poder encontrar emprego... Era invadido por uma espécie de névoa diante de cada campainha... Não tinha sangue de mártir... Merda! Tinha o defeito dos medíocres... Adiava sempre as coisas para o dia seguinte... Experimentei um outro bairro, menos tórrido, com mais brisa... mais sombra... Inspecionei as lojas em volta das Tulherias... debaixo das arcadas elegantes... nas grandes avenidas... Perguntava aos joalheiros se não precisavam de um rapaz... Pegava fogo debaixo do casaco... Não precisavam de ninguém... No fim, eu ficava mesmo no Jardim... Falava com as putas... Passava horas debaixo das árvores... sem fazer nada, bem à vontade, bebendo cerveja e participando dos divertimentos... Havia o homem-ovo, a orquestra de címbalos em volta dos cavalos com pneus...» (Céline, "Morte a Crédito")

« Quando nos sobrava tempo antes de regressarmos à noite, íamos espiá-los, minha mãe e eu, aqueles camponeses engraçados, empenhados em remexer com ferro essa coisa mole e granulosa que é a terra, onde a gente põe para apodrecer os mortos mas de onde afinal vem o pão. 'Deve ser muito dura, a terra!', observava ela toda vez, olhando-os, minha mãe, bastante perplexa. Em matéria de desgraças só conhecia as que se assemelhavam às suas, as das cidades, tentava imaginar o que podiam ser as do campo. Foi a única curiosidade que algum dia eu soube que possuía, minha mãe, e isso lhe bastava como distração para um domingo. Voltava com isso para cidade. » (Céline, "Viagem ao Fim da Noite")

quinta-feira, 22 de agosto de 2013

terça-feira, 20 de agosto de 2013

segunda-feira, 19 de agosto de 2013

sexta-feira, 16 de agosto de 2013

Le dernier des romantiques



Jurava ser um diálogo entre Deleuze e Guattari.

Leos Carax sobre Paradise Alley, em seu primeiro texto para os Cahiers du Cinéma:

What will follow are a few phrases about a good film that was poorly released, and which was not even discussed.

1946: Three brothers, the Carbonis, New Yor...k city wops, adult orphans, who share the same miserable housing in one of the poorest areas of the city: Hell's Kitchen. Cosmo (S.Stallone) is a hustler, always on the lookout for money that would allow him to leave the neighborhood and become famous; Victor (V for Victory) delivers ice-blocks, his build is just as impressive as his unalterable good spirit - and we'll see at the end that he isn't stupid; Lenny is the oldest, who was crippled in the war, tormented, he knows life (and death: he's an undertaker). It's story is just about this... Cosmo tries to convince Victor to become a professional wrestler in a private boxing ring, the Paradise Alley (of the film's original title). With the money that they would win from the fights, the three brothers could finally move out of this poor neighborhood. Victor would do anything to help his brothers, but Lenny doesn't like the idea: every night, it would mean that his younger brother risks being disfigured for life. Yet he finally accepts and even becomes Victor's manager - renaming him "Kid Salami". Every fight is a victory for the Carbonis, and the money accumulates. But Cosmo and Lenny, go from being brothers to becoming enemies: they both love the same woman and, most importantly, they are in disagreement in regards to the career of their protégé. It's now Lenny who is pushing Victor to fight, more and more, and for more money and stronger opponents, all the while Cosmo would prefer to stop it all before their brother becomes a wreck. For the first time, Victor takes responsibility: he says that he is finished with the ring but agrees to one last fight. Against the frightening Frankie the Thumper (who is in the Stitch Mahon gang, enemies of the Carbonis) for nine-thousand dollars, which is all of the money that they have raised. The fight is terrible, but Victor emerges victorious and the Carboni brothers are reunited.

The press-book indicates that the first version of the script written by Stallone in 1970 was a lot darker. Despite its constant sense of humor and its derision, despite its optimistic ending, the realized film resembles a long nightmare. The neighborhood and nighttime scenes, the lighting, its fixed shots (there is practically no camera movements) and violence (too frequent), all participate to a mise-en-scène that is codified like a nightmare. On this point, the image (a success) is clear; from rooftop to rooftop, Cosmo and a member of the Mahon gang are racing; the scene is filmed at night, slowed-down, and edited into fixed shots; each alleyway that they jump over (shot from the position of the street), offers a reverse-shot, a trou d'air that tempts the runner; their faces are deformed by the exercise. And all the shots of the film share a similar style, an effort to push towards extremes, but slowed down, empty and struggling. We ask ourselves more and more, employing more and more strength - to the point of laughable exaggeration - but the fixed shots keeps us on location. The characters struggle to reach the end of each scene and Stallone's camera never helps them, on the contrary. Lenny must make it through the dance hall with his cane in hand to recover the woman that he lost; Cosmo cannot get home without being harassed (slowly) by some thugs (which we never really see and that he gets rid of by blindly hitting them: the entire neighborhood is a vast nightmare); Victor is forced to arm wrestle the strongest opponents, he has to carry a huge block of ice up an endless staircase, without counting all of the fights that he goes through (from scene to scene, his face is always getting worse). In Stallone's cinema, each scene is either won or lost.

Paradise Alley is an orphan's nightmare (see again Laughton’s extraordinary The Night of the Hunter if you want to grasp what's an orphan film: the spectator’s identification can’t be more profound than with the character of the orphan, the child alone in the dark). The parents are dead and the kids are grown up, aged: the "You look old tonight, brother" which is said twice, is the harshest thing said in the film. The characters just repeat themselves, like in a bad dream: we are all bad boys and our parents would not be proud. Stallone adds: but at least we stay together. After his victory and right before the closing credits, Victor embraces his brothers, exclaiming, "I like it better when we are brothers." This optimistic ending takes a lot of nerve. Cosmo, Lenny, Victor, each one has their turn to be the "brain". This union is their raison d'être. Just like the enfants du placard - half-orphans - they share family and childhood secrets: (Lenny knows how to make Victor invincible, by whispering a few words in his ear).

The only way to stay brothers, is to bet on winning together. Not to fight a war but, for example, to have a wrestling match. And it is the scene of the final match, where Victor and Frankie the Thumper fight intensely, each one for their family. Each of the two bodies take many hits, some of them right in the face. The catch of the whole situation, just like it's with cinema, is that it's rigged and we know it. Stallone takes his pleasure - a pleasure that is first, childish - to film this trick for what it is. His film is a great film; it's cinema. And if people did not go to see it, they have lost a good opportunity to love the cinema.

(Cahiers du Cinéma, setembro de 1979)

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