Große Vögel, kleine Vögel

There are very few things to say about life. There are a million ways to say it, but we come back to the same few items: living-loving to the fullest matters, with every force available in your body, being one with just this world, sensitive to it, alert. We have come up with a million ways to say it, because it's easier said than done. It is easier to think than do. And I think that anyone who is passionate about life and the art he makes has hit this limit, that when all is said and done, thought is like the buzz of a small mosquito, persistent but drowned in the swell of universal music.

You have to let go at some point, what the old mystics knew as ecstasy. This is of course near-impossible to accomplish in the grind of life, which is why in the old days, they set apart time for ritual and storytelling - not as distinguishable as they are now, these two. We do so with cinema. And I value, above all else, filmmakers who make more than films, who set apart time for ritual dance that disembodies the self, mends consciousness into the air. Antonioni - Parajanov - Iwai - Herzog - they have all done this at least once.

And even though I'm only getting to know Pasolini, I can tell that that he was a passionate man, a man of thought who wanted to go beyond thought, who wanted to be true to music as it rises from the earth and makes a mockery of our efforts to explain intellectually.

Here is his attempt at a disembodied narrative, characteristically Italian.

The story is that we follow two ordinary rascals on their round through the small world, father and son, both very Italian characters, rowdy, temperamental. In the neorealist mode of some fifteen years ago, there would be a single reality, one of hardship and human ruins, the journey would be one of simple, 'real' encounters, that used to be the conceit in those days, the unmediated presentation of life. Indeed, we start here from a 'realist' world and come back to it full-circle in the end with real footage from the funeral of a prominent member of the Italian Left, signifying the end of the postwar era of new hope.

Inbetween, however, we have something else. There is a second reality that we slowly shift to, one of naked dreams, of ritual and storytelling, song and dance.

Each individual performance is exhilarating. Each has its own air. The rock'n'roll dance - hip and youthful sashaying, 'tuning out'. The Franciscan story - earthy, good-humored religiosity. The lighting up of fireworks - evocative of spontaneous magic and roads. Being shot at from a barn - the silent comedies of Chaplin and Keaton. The scene of giving birth - Italian theater, circus, carnivals.

Our two lovable dunces are not dramatic characters, they do not change. Rather, they are on screen, so that in moving through the world, they will reveal different facets of contradictory existence, all of them exaggerated in the Italian manner. They are in turn victims and oppressors, fools and sages, beggars and hedonists, defiant and obeisant, shifting in and out of iconography and roles, booted from one stage to the next.

Their companion is a talking raven (Pasolini - disembodied from his narrative and made fun of), always spouting thoughts and opinions on religion and politics, which are promptly ignored; who would listen, when there's skirt to be chased?

Being characteristically Italian means that the different threads are not layered together, we simply move from one stage to the next. We get beautiful but scattershot imagination, but it is redeemed by a powerful center. Human nature as the moon that causes the waters to wash out on the shore everything from a deep sea - good or bad. It's a sublime notion.

And you just have to see this for the choreography in the Franciscan story; dissipating human landscape, to human buffoonery on the ground, to swarms of birds rolling in the sky. God as learning to walk in the language of birds. Wonderful.

A picaresque approach by a master of the Italian cinema resulted in this personal and different film by Pier Paolo Pasolini. The director, who wrote and produced this picture, was in great form in this story that is more like a fable, deliciously acted by Toto and Ninetto Davoli, one of the best pairings in Pasolini's movies.

The film is, in many aspects, a road movie. From the beginning, we watch as Toto and Ninetto take to the road in their trip to nowhere, it seems, but a trip which permits Pasolini examine some of the things that obsessed him, mainly his dislike for organized religion, as he perceived it in his country, as it clashed with reality. He takes the life of Saint Francis and the story about his relationship with the birds as the main topic for the movie.

It's hard to add anything else to what already has been said by the valuable contributions to IMDb. This film is one of the most inspired by the director. In it, he doesn't pound on the viewer's head those things that were dear to him. In fact, the film has a whimsical touch as we follow the two travelers, Toto and Ninetto, through rural Italy as a raven keeps telling them stories.

Toto is perfect as the older man who is living in his own world and doesn't see the changes around him. Ninetto Davoli gives a great performance as the happy go lucky son. Their surname, is Innocenti, or Innocent, which in a way, fits their characters rather well.

The black and white cinematography by Mario Bernardo and Tonino Delli Colli works wonders for the film. Ennio Morricone's musical score also enhances all that one sees on the screen. This is a light Passolini, but one that delves deep into the subjects that were so dear to the director's heart.

Pier Paolo Pasolini's 'The Hawks and the Sparrows' (the Italian title is 'Uccellacci e uccellini') is a film that is difficult to decipher. In 1966 the Italian director had not yet produced his most controversial works, but this film already shows him as a radical creator, both in terms of the load of ideas he tries to convey in less than the 90 minutes that the film lasts and by the metaphorical way in which he chooses to do it. We are dealing with a parabola allegory including many interesting and innovative cinematic elements, some of them quite funny, but it is not an entertainment film. The problem with this film as with others of Pasolini is that much of the ideological wars that the Italian director and intellectual waged in his time have since been either won or forgotten by history. The result is that looking at this film today, viewers judge it by its cinematic and entertaining qualities, ie exactly those components that for Pasolini were just tools to transmit ideas from the creator of films to his viewers.

The story takes place on an endless road. The road of life? The path that Charlie Chaplin takes at the end of his films? The two characters could actually be the Vagabond and the kid who accompanies Charlot, as seen many years later. Here they are father and son, and on their way they meet landscapes and people who belong to the immediate reality or to pure fantasy. Neo-realism mixes in the world of Pasolini's film with fantasy. People live their lives on the margins of society, women have nothing to put in the pot to feed their families, tenants are threatened with eviction from their homes because they have not paid their rents, prostitutes work in the cornfield. The two heroes, father and son, eternal vagabonds, meet a talking raven who declaims the ideology of the left and travel back in time seven centuries to convert to Catholicism the birds (the hawks and the sparrows in the title) at the urging of St. Francis. Their universe is cruel, an era is coming to an end (symbolised by the funeral of a communist leader), and hawks eat sparrows despite all the efforts of Catholicism. The world is incoherent and ideologies are dying.

The message of the film also translates into an unconventional demonstrative cinematic treatment, rejecting canons, narrative rules, or aesthetics. The film begins with a generic sung to the music of Ennio Morricone. The following scenes seem to be under the influence of neo-realism, even when a group of young people improvise a dance number that would also find its place in the films of Jacques Demy, Pasolini's French contemporary. What follows, however, belongs rather to surrealism combined with the absurd. The acting performances are extraordinary. The only professional actor is Totò, a famous comedian and clown, in one of the great roles of his career. The young Ninetto Davoli, a discovery of Pasolini, at his second film, was quite anonymous and uncorrupted by acting schools to fit perfectly into the style of the film. The rest of the cast is made up of non-professionals and they are the ones who give authenticity to this mixture of social and religious criticism imbued with a dreamlike nihilism that only Pasolini was capable of. 'The Hawks and the Sparrows' is an atypical film even for Pasolini's creation, unequal, but which offers many moments of cinematic pleasure.

One delightful saturday afternoon spent with this movie at the portuguese Cinema Museum. This picture can be identified as "another Pasolini movie" or as well as "another Toto movie", and both reasons are more than enough to make anyone curious to see it. Pasolini gives us a pleasant Toto comedie, filled with intelectual and political information, pretty well disguised as a fable about birds and priests. After this, I am convinced that a title with the name PASOLINI on it doesn't necessarily have to be a though, brutal, sexual, 3-hour-lengthed filmic exercise. It can be a simple weekend afternoon movie to watch with your parents or your kids. On the other hand, a simple comedy with one of its masters ("toto") doesnt necessarily have to be shallow and basic. This movie is worth a "jump like a sparrow" into a theatre, whenever you have a re-run around.

"Uccellacci e uccellini" aka "The Hawks and the Sparrows" (1964) - directed by Pier Paolo Pasolini

This is a movie that begins like no other introducing the cast and the crew in the manner that is charming, original, melodious and promising of even better things to follow. The fun begins actually with its Italian title, "Uccellacci e uccellini". I don't know about you but the sound of the title simply makes me smile, it sounds like the birds themselves whispered or chirped it to the Pasolini's ear. It is possible to make a satirical philosophical fable concerned with the serious and even grave matters as religion, social and political systems and the order of things and at the same time highly enjoyable, often hilarious, sometimes sorrowful, always original, in one word -Pasolinesque. "Uccellacci e uccellini" talks about desires, death, the meaning of life, Christianity, and Marxism but first and foremost, it entertains. It is about a father (Italian clown Toto) and his young and naive son (Nino Davoli) whom Pasolini sends to the endless cyclical journey on the road of life where they soon will be joined by a talking crow, will be catapulted 750 years back in time and by the request of ST.Francis, they would become two saints (Toto with his clown's face makes a great saint) who would teach the birds (the hawks and the sparrows) the word of God, in the birds' language, of course. The birds seem to agree and accept the words of love but as we know the love comes and goes but everyone (including birds) has to eat and the hunger does not help to improve the understanding between the hawks and the sparrows and between the humans and the crows, even the talking crows. Some were born to kill and to eat the others and there is not much could be changed about it. Two men will be magically returned back to the present time, will go to funeral, will see the baby born, will meet a beautiful desirable girl named Luna who reminds them how divine the fresh hay smells and how much fun it is to make love in it... Their journey would end where it began and on and on and on they go around the world in circles turning. As for the talking crows, "Takers and fakers and talkers won't tell you. Teachers and preachers will just buy and sell you. When no one can tempt you with heaven or hell- You'll be a lucky man!"