Showing posts with label Claude Lanzmann. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Claude Lanzmann. Show all posts

Saturday 16 August 2014

My Top 10 Documentaries (The Sight & Sound Poll)

Forugh Farrokhzad directing The House Is Black (1962)

From the September issue of Sight & Sound:


1
The Sound of Jazz (Jack Smight, 1957)

This is the greatest improvised documentary ever, and features a super-stellar line-up of 32 leading jazz musicians gathered at the CBS Studio in New York City in December 8, 1957. It was made in one hour and broadcast live on television. Cameramen were as into ad-libing as Thelonious Monk, and when Billie Holiday and Lester Young started to play Fine and Mellow everybody in the control room was crying.

2
Quince Tree of the Sun (Victor Erice, 1992)

Documentary cinema as meditation. No film, fiction or documentary, has captured the meticulous, painfully stagnant process of artistic creation with such rich expansion of cinematic time and space.


3
Shoah (Claude Lanzmann, 1985)

There is a logical, aesthetic and moral relation between the scale of the tragedy and the length of the film, which leaves a lasting physiological and psychological impact on the viewer.

4
Histoire(s) du cinéma (Jean-Luc Godard, 1988)

A multi-dimensional, free-form history of 20th century which proves all one needs is some ideas and an editing table, because the images are already out there.

5
The House Is Black (Forugh Farrokhzad, 1962)

The crowning achievement of Iranian documentary movement of the 60s and 70s, and singular in its hypnotic melancholy, its profound humanism and its poetic imagery.


6
Hôtel Terminus: The Life and Times of Klaus Barbie (Marcel Ophüls, 1988)

This film taught me the methodology of cinematic inquiry, as well as lessons in persistence and integrity. In every documentary Ophüls has ever directed, he proves that cinema is, above all, a machine of humanism, if one knows how to use it.

7
Robinson in Space (Patrick Keiller, 1997)

My traveling guide to Britain. Behind its cold, bureaucratic, un-poetic shots, lie a majestic world of complex emotions.

8
Lektionen in Finsternis (Werner Herzog, 1992)

I was born and raised during the Iran-Iraq war, and every bit of the horrendous landscape portrayed on this film is also carved in my memory. What Herzog with his hel(l)i-shots does is to dive into that collective memory shared by millions who were inside that hell.

9
P for Pelican (Parviz Kimiavi, 1972)

A haunting and stylized mediation on solitude, beauty and language through the story of a real-life protagonist, Agha Seyyed Ali Mirza, who’s been living in the ruins of the earthquake-shaken Tabas for forty years. A day arrives when he has to leave the ruins and face the great, strange, Lynch-like beauty: a pelican!

10
The Battle of Chile (Patricio Guzmán, 1976)

The film’s bleak transition from the hope and ardor of the first part to the harrowing shot-from-the-rooftop second section, tells not only of the history of Chile, but also of the process of toppling other democratic governments in 20th century (namely, Iran of 1953).

Sound of Jazz (1957)

Notes:

In order to narrow down the range of choices, I exclude documentaries if an experimental nature such as great city symphonies of the late silent era, as well as actor-less fiction films such as Soy Cuba.

There are many jewels of documentary cinema hidden in the vaults of TV stations. In that regard, Cinéastes de notre temps, a French produced-for-TV film-portrait of masters of cinema, of which only a few titles are available to the public, is the greatest film university one can attend, as well as a perfect example of a masterpiece produced by filmmakers whose names are not yet in the canon.

As a trained architect who has designed, written and filmed about architecture and cinema, I still feel there are many unexplored territories in this field, and that many great films are waiting to be made. However, it doesn’t mean overlooking what’s already been done, especially works of Thom Andersen, Hiroshi Teshigahara, Man Ray and Alexander Kluge.

Lastly, there are directors whose body of work has influenced me more than any single film. Georges Franju’s early work, Fredrick Wiseman and Chris Marker are among them. Kamran Shirdel’s clandestine documentation of the lives of unprivileged in pre-revolutionary Iran, in particular, stands out.

P Like Pelikan (1972)

Saturday 25 January 2014

Reports From London Film Festival: Great Films & Masterpieces


گزارش اختصاصي پنجاه و هفتمين فستيوال فيلم لندن 17 تا 28 مهر 1392
بايد اين‌جا اژدها خفته باشد:
دستاوردهاي برگزيده
اين‌ها فيلم‌هاي محبوبم در فستيوال بودند.

درون لوئن ديويس (جوئل و ايتن كوئن، آمريكا): بعد از سال‌ها  به طور دقيق از لبوفسكي بزرگ براي اولين بار دوباره توانستم با برادران كوئن ارتباط برقرار كنم. لوئن ديويس به شيوۀ فيلم‌هاي بهترِ برادران، خلوص روايي و وفاداري به زمان و فضاي داستان را جايگزين «اشارات» و «متاكامنتري» عقيم هميشگي كرده. اما لوئن تصويري است بسيار گيرا از آمريكاي اوايل دهه  هم هست1960، از روزهاي كندي، خليج پيگز، جك كرواك، محبوبيت موسيقي پاپ، به روايتي از روزهايي كه كهنه و نو به مبارزه‌اي علني بي‌ترحم دست زدند. به همين ترتيب روايت فيلم بر تقابل بين آمريكاي پير و كهنۀ تهيه‌كننده‌ها، مدير برنامه‌ها، كاسبان و نمايشگران قديم، استادهاي دانشگاه با آمريكاي نوي يك خوانندۀ ناكام و بي‌عرضۀ فولك به نام لوئن ديويس سازمان يافته.

Tuesday 21 February 2012

Impressions of Claude Lanzmann

I

"Not man or men but the struggling, oppressed class itself is the depository of historical knowledge. " -- Walter Benjamin

I was born in a Muslim family. I know Shoah by heart. I also know about reincarnations of Shoah in contemporary times. 

Claude Lanzmann, director of Shoah, appeared on stage, last night, at Ciné Lumière of Institut Français, to teach a masterclass that he couldn't it take serious. ("I don't know what is a master class," he said.) 

People have the misconception that directors who make films should be a resultant of the things and values they show on their films, especially if the director is seen in the film himself, as Lanzmann does interview the survivors and the perpetuals all through Shoah. Lanzmann on stage was a different person. Not contradictory to his image in Shoah, but a complementary.

II
"Few will be able to guess how sad one had to be in order to resuscitate Carthage." -- Gustave Flaubert

Shoah is a film about the complexity of language and communication. It is about the tragedy of language. It's about people don't share the same language at the death camp. Talking to each other, or talking in certain languages is forbidden. Lanzmann chose a very complex method of double emphasis, and sometimes triple emphasis on this aspect: We hear Lanzmann's own voice (asking questions in French, German, and occasionally English), his translator's voice (translating the exchanged dialogue from Polish to French and vice versa), and the interviewee's answers in his or her original language (Hebrew, Yiddish, Polish). Now add the English subtitle to all this multitude presence of the languages. It is an enriching and enlightening experience of waiting in patience, and listening to someone whose language can not be understand, and as waiting for translator to start her task, examining the face and the the body language of the interviewee.

At the Ciné Lumière, Lanzmann insisted on speaking English to avoid the unnecessary waste of time in translation, or to respect mostly British audience.


III

"Architecture emancipates us from the embrace of the present and allows us to experience the slow, healing flow of time. Buildings and cities are instruments and museums of time. They enable us to see and understand the passing of history, and to participate in time cycles that surpass individual life. " -- Juhani Pallasmaa

The true picture of the past flits by. The past can be seized only as an image which flashes up at the instant when it can be recognized and is never seen again. -- Benjamin
Shoah is a film about architecture, and also a film about the significance of the instants and moments. The first image that Lanzmann wanted to show was the appearance of a sign;  the sign of Treblinka. It was the explosive moment that he discovered what was all about, a counterpart to his previous experiences of "rediscovering" a place in an instant. He says:


IV

In Shoah, Lanzmann's way of grasping the happenings of the past is manifested in the dialectic of questioning, but at the Ciné Lumière session he resisted to be questioned. This contradiction between the Lanzmann on the screen with the Lanzmann on the stage struck those who had seen Shoah.

(a) He didn't approve the questions.
To some degree, he didn't. Because simply the knowledge of interviewer on the subject (Lanzmann) wasn't comprehensive enough.

(b) He doesn't like to be questioned.
To some degree, he doesn't. He had a 600-page book to tell everything. The Patagonian Hare. He would have signed the book, if you had a copy.

(c) He was tired.
Yes, and we have to accept the fact that we get old and our memory fails to remember certain things. Sometimes a few drinks generates the lack of enthusiasm to be examined by the public. The intimacy of the camera doesn't exist on a live stage. In Shoah Poles get drunk to take the Polish Jews to the camp, as locomotive driver confesses. Most of the interviewees in Shoah are over 70.

V

"One reason why Fascism has a chance is that in the name of progress its opponents treat it as a historical norm." -- Benjamin

"Just describe the process to me," said Lanzmann to the Nazi officer who accepted to reveal the "techniques" of mass murdering. Lanzmann had his own way of making him talk or even giving him enough confidence (and money) to make a good show out of it. Lanzmann remembers:



VI

The Lanzmann night was a minor disaster, but a magnificent one. Claude Lanzmann is a very honest and sharp-tongued man. He fought for something that can be described as a fight against the public ignorance of the history, or at least the history of brutality. Shoah is an unquestionable masterpiece, because this scrupulous piece of filmmaking shows a whole new way of approaching history and human beings.

"Why do you want to climb the Everest?" asked people from the one who climbed Everest, and he replied "because it is there."
"Why did you make Shoah?" asked people of Claude Lanzmann, and he said "because somebody had to do it." It is as simple as this for him, and as complex as a 9 1/2 hour long landmark, for us.