Showing posts with label Netherlands. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Netherlands. Show all posts

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Review – Gertrud


August 17, 2008

Gertrud – the Netherlands, 1964

Perhaps nothing has as much destructive power as a relationship gone sour or as love denied. For evidence of this, witness Gertrud Kanning (Nina Pens Rede) sitting on a piano bench next to her husband Gustav, her head slightly raised, her eyes looking off in the distance at nothing in particular, her mouth devoid of anything resembling emotion. Gustav, for his part, only occasionally looks at her, matching her distant stare, as if they were in a contest to see who can go the longest with looking at the other. It is Gustav who is the first to show a hint of life. It seems, he explains, that he is to be asked to be a cabinet minister, a position that if attained would be the culmination of years of long nights and extreme diligence. If this news pleases Gertrud, she does not show her joy. Instead she answers him with such passivity that you may think her indifferent to the news. You would actually be correct. Theirs is indeed a marriage beyond repair, yet only one of them seems to know just how broken it is – and perhaps how much it always has been.

Gustav continues to relate the events of his day, events that include running into his wife’s former flame, Gabriel Lidman, now a rich and famous poet. Her husband’s mentioning of Gabriel’s name brings up a flood of memories, yet the memories his name elicits are not pleasant. They are the memories of break-ups, hurt feelings, and gifts that have lost their significance. The reminiscing having reached its merciful end, Gertrud turns to leave, but she is stopped by her husband’s seemingly simple request for a kiss. It is a request that she denies. Later that evening, Gabriel again is seen gazing off into the distance, his face registering only a glimpse of surprise when he hears his wife’s request for a divorce.

Carl Theodor Dreyer’s Gertrud is about the official end of a marriage. I say “official” because it is clear that whatever feelings and attraction had first brought Gertrud and Gustav together ended long ago, even if Gustav had not completely realized it. Gustav, like many other men before him, made the mistake of believing that working hard in his career was the same as working hard in his marriage. Hearing his wife say that putting a job first is worse than indifference most likely comes as quite a shock to him. However, also just as many others have, he suspects there must be another explanation for his wife’s discontent, another man perhaps, as if that would somehow exonerate him of any culpability for his failed marriage. In fact, Gustav is correct in this also, yet that fact blinds him to the real causes of the couple’s misery, melancholy to which he contributed but did not initiate. No, Gertrud’s gloom dates back to a time before their marriage, to the time of Gertrud and Gabriel.

Gertrud unfolds slowly. Gertrud at first appears cold and removed for no apparent reason. As the film progresses, we see traces of happiness in her, such as when she interacts with Erland, but even in these moments, we sense that her happiness may be superficial, that she may be trying too hard to attain something she lost long ago. It is only later that we see the origin of the drama and the parallels between the past and the present. “Have the courage to think good thoughts,” Gabriel tells an audience honoring him. His later conversations with Gertrud reveal just how hard this is even for a successful man like him. Imagine how hard it must be for a woman like Gertrud.

And yet it should be said that Gertrud is not completely without blame, for she has left her husband in the dark for quite a while as to the extent of her feelings. To him, Gertrud’s feelings are new and therefore not yet permanent. To him, the marriage can be saved. Perhaps if he just alters his schedule, tells her he loves her more frequently, picks her up from the opera… But just how do you please someone who says that the man she’s with must be hers completely and equates her marriage, not with love, but with the pleasures of the flesh?

Like many of Dreyer’s films, Gertrud is not easy to watch. In some respects, it may be harder to watch, as it contains some truths that can be painful to acknowledge. Sometimes pursuits of careers ruin loving relationships, and sometimes people choose careers over loved ones, even if it condemns them to a life of isolation and loneliness. Hearing Gertrud tell Gabriel, “You’ve become a great man, and now everything is nothing” caused me to reflect upon the decisions I have made in pursuit of a career in teaching, as well as the amount of personal time I have lost in this pursuit, time that could have been spent building bonds instead of weakening them. In a time when it is reported that half of all marriages in the United States end in divorce and divorce rates in places like Taiwan continue to increase steadily, I wonder how much of the reason for this stems from issues like those that Gertrud gives voice to. (on DVD from Criterion Collection)

4 and a half stars

*Gertrud is in Danish with English subtitles.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Review – Ordet


August 9, 2008

Ordet – the Netherlands, 1955

In this world of cosmetic surgery, of incredibly realistic special effects and make-up artists that can turn a normal actor into a being from another world, of individuals jaded by hucksters and divisive sermons, would the average person recognize the second-coming of Jesus? Or would they react the way the Borgen family in Carl Theador Dreyer's Ordet does when one of their own begins to proclaim himself Jesus of Nazareth, by referring to him as “27 and incurably mad” and keeping him under constant surveilance? It’s not an easy question, yet it’s not hard to see how the Borgen’s came to the conclusion they did. As Ordet begins, Johannes Borgen (an unforgettable Preben Lerdorff Rye) has just walked out of his house on a clear morning in 1925. Draped in a long cloak reminiscent of the one popular movies and paintings often depict Jesus wearing, Johannes hikes to the top of a hill, stands with his arms outstretched, and delivers a sermon, perhaps to the residents of a town below him. “Woe unto you, hypocrites,” he begins. It is the start of a speech in which Johannes refers to himself as the reborn Christ, while speaking in a slow, haunting delivery and staring ahead of him as if in a daze. Perhaps even more unnerving to his family is his habit of entering a room and suddenly delivering a quote from the Bible or explaining why he cannot perform any miracles anymore. The family’s confusion and frustration is understandable.

If that weren’t enough, the town is split theologically between those who believe that life is to be cherished because of the existence of God and those who believe that one must sacrifice and suffer in order to obtain the happiness that dying and going to heaven offers. This rift causes such bad blood that two fathers, Morton Borgen (Henrik Malberg in a great, sympathy-enducing performance) and Peter Peterson (an equally strong Ejner Federspeil), utter phrases such as “birds of a feather” when justifying their objections to a union between the two families. They also belittle the other’s faith with words like “disbelief,” “delusion,” and “detest.” They do these things in the name of their faith. Moreover, in doing so, they inadvertently support Johannes’ contention that people live in “houses half-built.” They believe in their faith so strongly that they have become intolerant of anyone whose belief differs from their own. Witness the conversation between the two fathers to see how deeply their faith impacts their lives. It is both beautiful and frightening at the same time.

The Borgen family, Morten, Mikkel, Anders, and Johannes, is held together partly by Inger, Mikkel’s wife (well played by Brigitte Federspeil). Whether it’s gentling nudging Morten toward accepting his son’s wish to marry the tailor’s daughter, Anne, keeping her husband’s spirits up when they are low, or trying to arouse sympathy for Johannes, she displays a dignity and a faith that many of the other characters only say they have, but not even she can accept the possibility that Johannes may be who he says he is. However, as tragedy creeps closer, that possibility becomes of utmost importance.

Ordet ends with more questions than answers. Is Johannes who he claims he is? Does he really see what he says he sees? How does what has transpired affect the faith of the residents around them, and what are the long term ramifications of what has occurred? Like many questions involving faith, none of these may ever be answered satisfactorily, and because of that, Ordet is likely to haunt viewers for some time after they watch it. If Johannes is the second-coming, what does that mean for the future of mankind? If he is not, how is it that he knows what he knows or can do what he does? It may be just a movie, but it is one that is difficult to shake. As the credits roll, we are left a bit emotionally drained but certainly wanting more. (on DVD from Criterion Collection)

4 and a half stars

*Ordet is in Danish with English subtitles. It is available as part of the Criterion Collection’s Carl Theodor Dreyer box set.