Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Ordet (1955)
I am a mason. I build houses, but nobody lives in them. People prefer to build their own, even though they do not know how. Some of them inhabit half-finished huts, others live in ruins, and most wander homeless.
These are the words of Johannes Borgen, a young man who has come to believe he is Jesus Christ after a mental breakdown. He is speaking to the new pastor who has come to call at Borgengaard, a prosperous farm across the road of his church. When the pastor tells the mad young man that miracles no longer happen Johannes looks sad and says "Thus speaks my church on earth, the church that has failed me, that has murdered me in my own name..." Not long after the pastor meets Mikkel Borgen, the elder brother. When the pastor asks if it was love that caused his mind to cave him the brother replies bluntly, "No, it was Kierkegaard."
By now you would have realized that you are not watching a normal movie, a movie that is quite like no other despite being an every-day slice of life. It is a complex, difficult movie that, to some, will be a great, hypnotic piece of cinema about faith vs dogma, as well as resurrection and renewal of a truer, deeper faith. To others it will be an overlong farm movie where Danish Lutherans sit around, talk and drink coffee. Lots of coffee.
I was not trying to be flippant with the last paragraph, but rather I was just gauging the reaction some might have to this film. It slow pace will be difficult to people who like to have Something Happen every five minutes, whether it's an explosion or, like some art movies, an act that would shock the bourgeois attitudes of people who wont watch it anyway. But this is a purer film than most movies that get selected at prestigious international film festivals these days. This is a film where people take their faith seriously, and the director, Carl Theodor Dreyer, pays them the compliment of doing the same.
The best thing about Ordet is that is, without a doubt, a living, breathing piece of cinema. It's slow pace give the characters time enough to move and talk as if it was the start of a normal day that would soon have extraordinary conclusion. Most of it is set on Borgengaard, the farm of a stern widower Morten Borgen, who is deeply unhappy about the way things have turned out. Despite being successful his sons are making him unhappy. Johannes, the middle child, was the smartest one but whose current state saddens him deeply. Mikkel, the eldest, stands to inherit the farm but has lost his faith in God. "He has betrayed the faith of his forefathers," mourns Morten. To rub salt in his wounds he is told by Inge, Mikkel's pregnant wife, that Anders, the youngest, is in love with Anna Petersen, the daughter of Peter Petersen, his old theological enemy.
Morten and Peter seem to have been against each other for a long time. Morten is implied to be part of Lutheran church, which he helped re-establish in the community, while Peter has founded his own Christian denomination, and preaches from his lounge above his shop. Neither consider the other to be Christians. Morten is rich and very, very proud of who he is, but to a degree so is Peter who is more subtle in his sins. It is also implied that part of their contempt for each other lies in the fact the Borgens are landowners, who were generally seen as being better than shopkeepers in some societies (and in this instance its Peter who resents Borgen for having land).
Morten Borgen is without a doubt the central character while the other is, most certainly, Inge Borgen. Inge is very outspoken in her faith in God and her atheist husband, though never do you get the feeling that she's simply being pious. There's something sly in Birgitte Federspiel's performance; her unshakeable faith makes her wise and perceptive, and I can't help but feel that she regards some of the people she lives with as slightly ridiculous. She certainly believe in God and still believes He can work miracles where everyone else (save the mad Johannes) have lost faith. She's also blunt at times; when Morten suggests Anders should find someone of 'their own faith' she points out that his wedding was nothing more than a "transaction between farmers'. Morten is visibly shaken by her words, but does not deny it.
The third most important character is mad Johannes, whom we first meet upon the grassy dunes outside the farm, preaching to the world who can't hear him. Compared to his cast mates his performance is edges closer towards being 'over-the-top', but he cuts an eerie and unsettling screen presence even in scenes where his madness is played for uncomfortable laughs (or maybe they were unintentional). Despite any humour that may be there the character deeply affects the others whenever he enters the screen, yet Inge observes that maybe he's closer to God than any other of them. His father, however, prays only that his son may be released from his madness, even if that release is death.
This is only about the first 40 minutes of the plot so far, but it is where I'll stop with my summary. As Roger Ebert noted it is impossible to discuss this movie without summarizing the characters and story; because the performances and direction are both subdued (and free of melodrama and sugary sentiment) the movie just pulls back let the viewer watch the fully formed characters live and breath in a world that is more real than others. This is quite a feat seeing that the movie is based on a play; movies based on plays tend to show their seems.
The end of the movie is considered to be among the most powerful, haunting endings ever filmed. It certainly is haunting in my opinion and I doubt I may ever forget it. In any other story the ending would be considered a cheap trick by the plot, the author or the director. Yet somehow agnostic Carl Theodor Dreyer's artistry makes the ending feel completely real, and like his earlier masterpiece, The Passion of Joan of Arc, he gives us a window into the paradoxes, sadness and beauty of the will of God.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment