Sátántangó

A film by Béla Tarr

The epic rendering of László Krasznahorkai's novel about the decline of Communism in Eastern Europe. Set in a struggling Hungarian agricultural collective in the 1980s, a group of lost souls reeling from the collapse of their Communist utopia face an uncertain future, until the arrival of a charismatic stranger in whom they believe lies their salvation. Within their small dilapidated village the collective's individual experiences and fates are gradually revealed to us and we follow the events in their lives over the course of one day. Their stories are told separately and from the perspective of each individual but with some of the events overlapping, which are seen again in the context of the particular perspective.

Life for the inhabitants of this rural community has come to a virtual standstill. The autumn rains have begun and the villagers are waiting, expecting to receive a large cash payment that evening, after which they plan to leave. But some want to abscond earlier with more than their fair share of the money. However, they hear that the smooth-talking Irimiás, whom they thought had died, is coming back and they are apprehensive that he will take all their money in one of his grandiose schemes to keep the community going.

First we meet Futaki, who whilst having an affair with Mrs Schmidt discovers that her husband is planning to make off with the money that eight villagers have come into through one of Irimiás's schemes. Then we see Irimiás and Petrina who are trying to evade trouble with the law. Next we follow the overweight and frail Doctor who observes and documents the actions of the villagers, recording everything he experiences in his journals. The fourth story involves Estike, a young girl who, ignored by her mother and cheated by her brother, tortures and kills a cat and then commits suicide – a tragedy which will later be exploited by Irimiás. The fifth gathers all the pertinent villagers together in the village bar, drinking and dancing Satan's Tango until they fall into a drunken stupor.

We then follow the villagers as they make their exodus, journeying on foot through the night to the abandoned manor house where Irimiás has told them they will begin a new and successful life. Having left everything behind they could not carry and having given him all their money, they place their implicit trust in him with little real idea of what his plans for them are. But soon they find themselves unable to ignore the doubts they have about Irimiás's great scheme and we begin to see what lies behind his clever deception – and understand the fate that awaits them all.

A dark portrayal of human nature, forlorn desolation and false hope. The film's compelling images of bleakness and despair are a unique, visionary and entirely captivating experience, perfectly accompanied by composer Mihály Víg's haunting and hypnotic musical score.

The Man From London

A Londoni férfi
a film by Béla Tarr based on the novel L'homme de Londres by Georges Simenon.

Maloin leads a simple, humdrum life with no prospects, working as a night signalman at a railway station situated by a ferry harbour. He barely notices the outside world, accepting the slow and inevitable deterioration of life around him and his all but complete loneliness. His life takes a sudden turn, however, when he becomes a witness to a murder and is forced to confront issues of morality, sin, punishment and the line between innocence and complicity in a crime. This state of scepsis leads him to the ontological question of the meaning and worth of existence.

One night, from inside his control tower, Maloin is watching the arrival of the last ferry. On the bow of the ship before him two passengers are in conversation and a suitcase is passed between them. Joining the line of disembarking passengers, one of the two men, after passing through the customs check, walks around the dock and stands at the edge of the quay. The other passenger who has been waiting on the deck of the ship then throws a suitcase towards the man on the shore. The man on the shore picks up the suitcase and retreats into the shadows. Some minutes later Maloin hears raised voices and looking out from his window sees the man with the suitcase has now been confronted by the other man. The quarrel develops into a fight in which one of them is struck, and falling from the quay into the water still clutching the suitcase, his body sinks. The other man, unable to retrieve the lost suitcase then walks away from the scene and enters a nearby hotel.

Astonished at what he has just witnessed, Maloin then climbs down from his tower with a boat-hook, and realising there is little he can do for the victim, retrieves the suitcase from the water. Taking the case back to his control room, he opens it to find it is packed full with bank notes. Incredulous, he slowly he takes the notes out of the suitcase, placing them on the top of his stove to dry. At the end of his shift, Maloin returns home to his wife, Camélia, saying nothing to anyone about the events of the night, or the money. But his innocent, if opportunist actions will begin a course of events in his life bringing guilt and fear from which he is unable to extricate himself.

Exploring themes of desire, greed and man's indestructible longing for freedom and happiness, the film is an examination of illusions never to be realised – the things that give us the energy to continue living and to question our own existence. Its austere minimalism and the symbolism used allows us to contemplate and empathise with the motivations and emotions of the characters more deeply. Its major strength is its visuals – the stunning noir imagery, with chiaroscuro deep-shadows lighting and oblique angles, evoking an intense sense of dread. The camera work is slow, fluid and dynamic, with long takes following the characters wherever they go, creating a mood of ever-growing suspense and menace. With the sparse dialogue throughout, we instead experience a heightened awareness of the environmental sounds which accompany the monochromatic imagery, many with sharply intrusive staccato rhythms which build on our sense of unease. A compelling, hypnotic and visually intensive film with a hauntingly beautiful score by Mihály Víg.