Movie: A Zed and Two Naughts by Peter Greenaway

Another Greenaway, this time with a much more direct artistic intention than others I've seen so far. His other films have revolved around vivid characterizations and the delicate or intense conflict that can arise between them. Zed is less about characters and more about the concept of symmetry in as many forms as possible.

The most easily recognizable form is the frame composition. Almost every set is purposefully symmetrical and the characters within these sets are themselves symmetrical, twin brothers being the protagonists. There are reoccurring shapes and words presented that have this quality, circles of various materials, the word Zoo shown both forward and backward during various sequences.

But the film goes so much deeper than being simply visual by analyzing the complementary nature of existence. The relationship between life and death is the central theme which becomes an obsession of the protagonists. After a tragic car accident that kills both of the brother's wives they seek to reconcile their loss with research attempting to find some reason behind the event. One brother becomes obsessed with the birth phase of existence from the very beginning of biological life progressively to the human condition. The other analyzes death, taking time lapse film of the decay of biological life using the same progression. Eventually they combine their efforts in what to them would be considered a masterpiece, an ambitious undertaking brought to a perfect conclusion, but to any bystander, a deeply deranged and horrifying result of madness.

However, this explanation only touches the surface of what this movie is about. Greenaway's films absolutely require more than one time through and luckily for me I look forward to revisiting them again and again because this is what the art of film is all about.

Movie: The Belly of an Architect by Peter Greenaway

Greenaway is becoming one of my favorite filmmakers, a development slowed only by the limited availability of his films. He has a very recognizable style behind the camera, a good portion of the time spent being absolutely stationary. He seems to favor standing back for a wide angle view and letting the actors do their job. The way some of these shots develop is stunning, using every inch of the screen, using vivid color to his advantage, using clever and aesthetically pleasing composition to express something truly memorable.

The story was a classic one. I wouldn't say it's an overdone plot but it speaks of a theme common in modern society. We seek immortality in various ways, one of which is to seek a young mate, someone vital and virile and excitable, someone to make us feel young. But, beyond a certain point these relationships are unsustainable because the older partner can't keep up physically and the younger partner can't keep up intellectually. This film takes the theme and brings it to the extreme. The protagonist's health begins to fail as he's commissioned to work on an exhibit in Rome celebrating a classical architect. His younger, pretty wife begins to feel lonely because he only spends time with the project and his descent into infirmity. His wife is pursued by another and he is diagnosed with terminal bowel cancer.

Ultimately that's what the story is about, not too complex, no twists, not many surprises, but it's in the way the story is told that makes this film special. Using the ruinous architecture of Rome as a backdrop to Greenaway's obsessively intricate set design and frame composition, this film manages to be one of the most visually stunning of any I've ever seen.

Movie: Dreams by Ingmar Bergman

Love and happiness are transient and so idealized that when we have it it's never enough and when it's gone we forget immediately how inadequate it was and try over and over to recreate that exact moment. The protagonists in this film try so hard to return to the happiness they remember which has been blurred, smoothed by the erosion of time. They hope, for a moment, that it's going to be just as good as that distorted memory and once they have it in their hands the moment lasts all of a couple minutes before it crumbles under the weight of the despair that has become the norm of their lives. The narrative leaves the audience with a frightening question: Which is better, transient whimsy or constant reflection. Luckily hope will force all to choose the former, but the zero sum game laughs at our attempt.