Old masters of composition in the direction of film photography

[Algo después]

...regarding the passage of time, this film by Victor Erice. Under the quince sun (Bajo el sol del membrillo, 1992). A kind of documentary where unfair competition is raised: who can better represent a quince tree, a camera or a painting? The painter Antonio Lopez tries to paint the tree as accurately as possible as a live model but time is in charge of withering it. And on the other hand, there is the camera with its cold record of reality.

The dps: Javier Aguirresarobe, Ángel Luis Fernández, José Luis López-Linares



OTOH, those are some examples of his slow painting style.

La gran vía (1974- 1981)

Skinned rabbit (1972)

 

[foc]

This can happen with this type of contemplative cinema or with various proposals whose density requires levels of concentration or a certain cultural backgrounds that go far beyond cinema as a form of entertainment. Sometimes this relationship with the viewer requires time, at other times it is more easily bearable and at other times it is simply unattainable. With Tarkovsky and other similar directors, a lot goes from being read as philosophers of the image, with this they sin (perhaps?) of being too hermetic for various sensibilities and that may be fine. You cannot standardize the thought or the taste.

Many times the representations of "time" in the cinema are minimized through cinematographic language: quick changes of shots, the addition of music within the plot, etc. but when certain directors activate the presence of time as a discursive entity, the viewers may become impatient. Perhaps that explains why many people can marathon the 9 hours of Lord of the Rings and not resist a 73-minute movie like Sokurov's Mother and Son.

I remember when I saw Andrei Rublev, it was more than anything an experience of resistance, perhaps due to a factor unrelated to the film itself, but now I cannot separate it from my reception experience. That day I was tired and the air conditioning of the film club where it was being shown had broken down, so the slow rhythm, the black and white, and the state of drowsiness was like a caesarean section in an operating room. I exaggerate of course. I decided never to see it again but now over the years I remember that experience as a symbolic conquest (similar to Captain Ahab from MobyDick trying to catch the whale).

Diametrically opposite proposal but it also happened to me at the time with Fargo. Several years later I decided to give it another try and have now discovered that I love it.

Here´s my fave Fargo´s shot

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