Showing posts with label Lea van Acken. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lea van Acken. Show all posts

Thursday, 4 September 2014

Stigmata and sacrifice

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2014 (28 August to 7 September)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


4 September


* Contains spoilers *



Can one put one’s finger on what is so affecting about this film ? A young girl, Maria, just at confirmation age, who idolizes Bernadette, the au pair, and who is being pushed in certain directions by her family and the church :

We see Maria objecting to the rather tame music that the sympathetic PE teacher is playing – seemingly not for the first time – to accompany her class’ exercise on the hoof on the basis that it contains ‘satanic rhythms’. Just before, we have seen her urged in confession, and with similar descriptions of music characterized by Fr. Weber, to denounce it. Whose life is she leading that she should want to sacrifice the landscape, or her own life to heal her younger brother Johannes ?

The chill is in the zeal with which Maria’s mother, at the undertaker’s, talks of seeking canonization for her daughter – almost as if she sees past her daughter to a saint, although we have seen her treat Maria abusively for her selfish ill-will on at least three occasions. Kein Wunder that her husband leaves the table and goes aside to stand in quiet thought – and the mother finally breaks down in proper tears…

Is the mapping of Maria’s last days on the elements of The Stations of The Cross something that is partly imposed, from the mother’s eye view, after the event ? – although, theologically, one knows the injunction to Take up one’s cross daily, and that identification with Jesus is the stuff of The Imitation of Christ.

But does she, in the tears, finally realize that the contented smile that she had in the car, after she has humiliated her daughter and, by stopping in traffic with a provocative ultimatum, secured her compliance by sheer power-play is just another aspect of the domination of Maria's life and memory that she craves now ? Perhaps.

Yet, although one wonders that, at the third hour (by the hospital clock) and as Maria’s heart fails, Johannes finally speaks, at the age of four, to call her name and to ask Wo ist Maria ?, we are emotionally with Bernadette in the preceding scene, not wanting her to refuse food and make ready to sacrifice her life. The horrible liturgical humbug is, though, that Maria’s mother says that the sacrament of communion is received when the wafer touches the lips (although Maria chokes on it, and it has to be unceremoniously whipped out of her mouth by a nurse) :

Unnoticed by us, we connect with the first scene, and Fr. Weber’s dogmatic assertion that life begins not, as suggested by one of the confirmation class, at birth, but at conception. Here, we are at the other end of life, and, in urging this hypocritical beatification of her daughter, Whatever one may think of the pro-life position (and choosing an age in weeks up to which a pregnancy can be lawfully terminated does seem somewhat arbitrary), Maria’s mother is invoking similar clear-cut definitions of life and death, right and wrong, holy and impure.

The key thing to notice (third stumble) is that Bernadette, not Maria’s mother, is her sponsor for confirmation, and how, even so feverish and ill, what is on Maria’s mind to pour out to Bernadette is how she believes that he mother does not love her, and to feel responsible for what she sees as a lack of love.

The film is a masterpiece. It is so powerful, second time around and as one tries to link each station of the cross to the tableau in hand, that it deserves a much greater audience than it had at either screening at Festival Central : this time, no laughter at the hard-liners in church and family, no treating of this as some sort of risible entertainment at the expense of real people who do have such faith and dogma.

And a profound emotion for Maria, believing that she is doing as she should for her mute brother’s sake…




Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Wednesday, 3 September 2014

Marks along the way

This is a review of Stations of the Cross (Kreuzweg) (2014)

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2014 (28 August to 7 September)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


3 September

This is a review of Stations of the Cross
(Kreuzweg, which means ‘way of the cross’) (2014)

Forget the cinematographic limitation that actually gives one nearly fourteen single takes in tableau style (only eleven where the camera simply does not move) : after the first, where one has one’s doubts*, it is more liberating to the inventiveness of writers Dietrich and Anna Brüggemann (he directs) than one could imagine – not least as the structure mirrors the fact that when the way of the cross is set out, in or around a church, an image to capture the frozen moment in time usually accompanies each step along it, for purposes of contemplation.

That restriction of a static camera-position, broken only incidentally in those few places, does really concentrate the mind and the emotions wonderfully on the amazingly telescoped ambit of the film’s story, starting with a final lesson with the priest to prepare for confirmation. *As that is the first scene, maybe it is not important that at least one (maybe two) of the candidates does not seem to contribute to answering the questions posed by Father Weber – certainly the girl at the far right-hand end of the table does not, and does nothing other than look more or less straight ahead, occasionally moving her hands, and she seems (as, to an extent, does the boy to her right) like a makeweight. (She does not appear again until they are in a pew together for the confirmation address.)

A small hesitation (even if it did make one doubt that the Oulipo-type richness-in-restriction was going to be effective), because the rest of the film is a compelling account of a very short period in Maria’s life, who is one of the candidates, and whose family is part of a fundamentalist Roman Catholic church that names itself after St Paul and rejects changes such as those brought in by The Second Vatican Council (so they still use Latin forms of absolution, etc.). Some in the audience were, rather inappropriately, laughing, as if this were a broad comedy, seemingly unaware that such beliefs (and the systems that keep them operative) are part of life in continental Europe**.

The film cries out to be watched. There is a second chance to do so at Cambridge Film Festival (@camfilmfest) / #CamFF 2014 on Thursday 4 September at 2.30


Why should it be seen ? Here are some observations :

* Lea van Acken (Maria), Florian Stetter (Fr. Weber), Franziska Weisz (Maria’s mother) and Lucie Aron (Bernadette) are exceptionally strong – with the only hesitation about cast being as already mentioned

* The clarity of the script and of its delivery mean that one senses all the nuances of Maria’s family and its belief-system, not least her relationship with the dominant mother, and her attempt to fit in with the high demands of living the good life within their church

* Key scenes are at the doctor’s and, afterwards, when Maria is with Bernadette, the au pair

* Before them, the conflict (external) of a group photograph during a walk, and (internal) of Maria’s confession prior to confirmation – the energies, the dynamics, are often laid bare as much by how things are spoken, as well as by what is not spoken

* The power of this film grows and grows – if it does not have tears rolling down one’s cheeks in the closing tableaux, perhaps the film never can achieve that, but it certainly can




For a spoilery Postscript, following that second viewing, click here






End-notes

* Please see below (where asterisked).

** One doubt here : whether they would have sung the sort of chorale that we hear in the service, and seemingly have approved of Bach’s Chorales, although he was a Lutheran. (Some opposition to Vatican II has also rejected music in worship as a whole.)




Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)