Tuesday, January 27, 2009

First German Film

This was to go in my journal blog but, when I accidentally clicked on this dashboard, I realised this was more appropriate. Anyway, film is also part of literature and learning right?

The Goethe-Institut, Max Mueller Bhavan on CMH Road conducted an exhibition+film screening session on Werner Herzog - The German Filmmaker between January 23,2009 and February 7, 2009. Since I wanted to do something different with Puii...and she's the kind that loves these kind of things - we paid a visit on January 4th, Saturday, 6:30 p.m.

They had scheduled the screening of Signs of Life (Lebenszeichen). The film roll was corrupted, so they stopped it inbetween and by popular demand switched to 'Aguirre, the wrath of God' (1972). This was about a group of Spanish Conquerers who travel down the Alps into the forests in search of the legendary El Dorado, the land of gold. They travel armed with weaponry and food. As they wander for days, a small group of soldiers break away to continue their search for El Dorado. After loosing many men (to the Indians along the Peru border), the leader Pedro de Ursua decides to turn back. However a non-comissioned officer, Lope de Aguirre, in his obsession to become a second Cortez, incites the remaining men to mutiny. Fearing that the men do not really trust him, Aguirre appoints Don Fernando de Guzman as "Emperor of El Dorado", declaring the Spanish King deposed. Ursua is granted a farcical trial where is charged with treason and sentenced to die, however Guzman shows 'clemency' and Ursua is kept prisoner. Guzmen is killed and Aguirre takes charge. He orders Ursua hung and kills all those that oppose him. Soon the group is reduced to a group of men (and two women) who are exhausted, feverish and hallucinating aboard a raft floating along the river.

Eventually in the last attack by the Indians, all are killed (including his daughter) except Aguirre. As he stands alone... in his hallucination, he talks of forming a 'pure' dynasty with his daughter.

Don Lope de Aguirre: I am the wrath of God. Who else is with me?

It was a sensual movie...with Klaus Kinski doing a brilliant job as Aguirre, although his voice was slightly turning off. I could feel the maddness, the terror, the power of Aguirre...though given the period in which it was made, the cinematography was decent.

As a footnote -

1. Herzog's relationship with Kinski was highly interesting. I copy off Wikipedia -

Herzog's first choice for the role of Aguirre was actor Klaus Kinski. The two had met many years before when the then-struggling young actor rented a room in Herzog’s family apartment, and the boarder’s often terrifying and deranged antics during the three months he lived there left a lasting impression on the director. Years later, Herzog remembered the volatile actor and knew that he was the only possible man who could play the mad Aguirre, and he sent Kinski a copy of the screenplay. "Between three and four in the morning, the phone rang," Herzog recalled. "It took me at least a couple of minutes before I realized that it was Kinski who was the source of this inarticulate screaming. And after an hour of this, it dawned on me that he found it the most fascinating screenplay and wanted to be Aguirre."
From the beginning of the production, Herzog and Kinski argued about the proper manner to portray Aguirre. Kinski wanted to play a "wild, ranting madman", but Herzog wanted something "quieter, more menacing". In order to get the performance he desired, before each shot Herzog would deliberately infuriate Kinski. After waiting for the hot-tempered actor's inevitable tantrum to "burn itself out", Herzog would then roll the camera.

On one occasion, irritated by the noise from a hut where cast and crew were playing cards, the explosive Kinski fired three gunshots at it, blowing the top joint off one extra's finger.Subsequently, Kinski started leaving the jungle location (over Herzog's refusal to fire a sound assistant), only changing his mind after Herzog threatened to shoot first Kinski and then himself. The latter incident has given rise to the legend that Herzog made Kinski act for him at gunpoint. However, Herzog has repeatedly debunked the claim during interviews, explaining he only verbally threatened Kinski in the heat of the moment, in a desperate attempt to keep him from leaving the set.

2. And there was Herzog himself -

To obtain the monkeys utilized in the climactic sequence, Herzog paid several locals to trap 400 monkeys; he paid them half in advance and was to pay the other half upon receipt. The trappers sold the monkeys to someone in Los Angeles or Miami, and Herzog came to the airport just as the monkeys were being loaded to be shipped out of the country. He pretended to be a veterinarian and claimed that the monkeys needed vaccinations before leaving the country. Abashedly, the handlers unloaded the monkeys, and Herzog loaded them into his jeep and drove away, used them in the shot they were required for, and released them afterwards into the jungle

Friday, January 23, 2009

Mona's smile, a teachers song

Writing that piece of Eulogy (i.e, copying and pasting) just reminded me of another quote from Mona Lisa Smile (the movie) that was exhilarating when I first heard it. Presenting - again, copied off IMDb - the teacher.

My teacher, Katherine Watson, lived by her own definition, and would not compromise that. Not even for Wellesley. I dedicate this, my last editorial, to an extraordinary woman who lived by example and compelled us all to see the world through new eyes. By the time you read this, she'll be sailing to Europe, where I know she'll find new walls to break down and new ideas to replace them with. I've heard her called a quitter for leaving, an aimless wanderer. But not all who wander are aimless. Especially not those who seek truth beyond tradition; beyond definition; beyond the image.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

The Eulogy

Officially this site is dead. But I'd like to say I have 3 blogs and hence the need to write posts atleast once a year. Anyway, this site is great to collect quotes in. Yesterday, I watched Four Weddings and a Funeral and enjoyed it. I mean, it was a movie I really enjoyed - except for Rowan-Mr.Bean ruining it with some gibberish. So I have copied from IMDb, Matthews eulogy for Gareth and hope someone will say it at mine. Classic piece by Auden though -

Gareth used to prefer funerals to weddings. He said it was easier to get enthusiastic about a ceremony one had an outside chance of eventually being involved in. In order to prepare this speech, I rang a few people, to get a general picture of how Gareth was regarded by those who met him. Fat seems to have been a word people most connected with him. Terribly rude also rang a lot of bells. So very fat and very rude seems to have been a stranger's viewpoint. On the other hand, some of you have been kind enough to ring me and let me know that you loved him, which I know he would have been thrilled to hear. You remember his fabulous hospitality, his strange experimental cooking. The recipe for "Duck à la Banana" fortunately goes with him to his grave. Most of all, you tell me of his enormous capacity for joy. When joyful, when joyful for highly vocal drunkenness. But I hope joyful is how you will remember him. Not stuck in a box in a church. Pick your favourite of his waistcoats and remember him that way. The most splendid, replete, big-hearted, weak-hearted as it turned out, and jolly bugger most of us ever met. As for me, you may ask how I will remember him, what I thought of him. Unfortunately there I run out of words. Perhaps you will forgive me if I turn from my own feelings to the words of another splendid bugger: W.H. Auden. This is actually what I want to say:


"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let the aeroplanes circle, moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.
Put crepe bows 'round the white necks of the public doves,
Let traffic policemen wear black, cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East, and West.
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good."