Archive for That Bowling Alley on the Tiber – Tales of a Film Director

They’ve Murdered a Man

Posted in FILM, literature with tags , , on December 14, 2009 by dcairns

They’ve murdered a man at Ferrara by making his car plunge into a branch of the Po. In winter, with the fog veiling the countryside. The car was under water all night, headlights burning.

The story of this man summed up in this, his final moment, tells us little. Something else has to happen in that place, in the course of that same night, in the glare of those headlights under water. That watery light beating on the fog as on a window of frosted glass is too suggestive not to be utilized. And then there’s novelty in a narrative structure that starts from one fact — serious as a crime — to arrive at another with no relation to the first, except that it’s illuminated by the selfsame light.

Michelangelo Antonioni, That Bowling Alley on the Tiber — Tales of a Film Director.


Tragic Hunt

Posted in FILM, literature with tags , , , on November 6, 2009 by dcairns

lavventura

On December 13, 1975, forty-two people departed for a crocodile hunt on the island of Java. Twenty-eight men, fourteen women. They rented two boats and, loaded with provisions, proceeded along a river.

After reaching the place, a pool of water at the foot of a towering and sinister cliff, the crocodiles overturned their boats and they were all eaten, provisions included.

~ Michelangelo Antonioni, That Bowling Alley on the Tiber — Tales of a Director. Translated by William Arrowsmith.

Now there’s an Antonioni film the world wasn’t ready for. If he’d needed a co-director for insurance purposes, a la Wim Wenders, maybe he could have got Lewis Teague. Still, I like the sound of this one, especially the way Antonioni might have done it — all that packing and preparation, five minutes of decisive devouring, and then a long epilogue of red water flowing back to sea…

Where there aren’t any houses

Posted in FILM, literature with tags , on October 22, 2009 by dcairns

SeminalImage-LEclisse62Image via Tom Sutpen.

A flat expanse of landscape on the Po delta. A village of low, colored houses. The sidewalk continues beyond the end of the street. No more houses flanking it, only the sidewalk proceeding all by itself toward the embankment.

At night there’s always a small empty truck, as though it’s owner lived there, where there aren’t any houses.

~ From That Bowling Alley on the Tiber – Tales of a Film Director, by Michelangelo Antonioni, translated by Willam Arrowsmith.