Trilogie: Die Erde weint

Anytime you sit down to a historical piece, especially a part of a trilogy, you must be prepared for an investment of time. In this case, it is 3 hours more or less, depending on the version.

The period that the first part of the Trilogy covers is 1919 -1949. Theodoros Angelopoulos presents 30 years of Greek history beginning with the return of the exiles from Odessa after WWI to the rise of the Colonels.

Eleni, who witnesses the history, is played by an unknown, Alexandra Aidini. He does not use her in the second film.

She is to marry Spyros (Vassilis Kolovos), but loves his son Alexis (Nikos Poursadinis), She runs off with him. They had two children that were taken and given to a rich woman. They managed to get them back after the village flooded. Alexis heads to America, while Eleni loses the children again after she is imprisoned. The war takes a toll on the family. There is much weeping among the women and those who didn't wear black, did so now.

But, the film is really not about the characters. It is about Greece, and the pain she has endured in this century.

It is a dark and dreary film with plenty of rain and cloudy skies. It is not meant to be joyful as the period is not joyful, as we watch dreams shattered, and people surviving, but just barely.

With music by Eleni Karaindrou and cinematography by Andreas Sinanos, you are not bored by the lack of dialog. In fact, you are left to enjoy and experience the time and the film.

Those who enjoy Bergman, Fellini, Kurosawa, and other great masters, will certainly enjoy Theodoros Angelopoulos. I hope he finished this trilogy, as he will be almost 80 when he does.

Theo Angelopoulos is one of the greatest directors working in films today. His last film, Eternity and a day proved that. This film is,likewise, a masterpiece. It begins in 1919 as a band of refugees returns to Greece from exile in Odessa. There are sepia colored photographs , and in this section of the film, the interiors are also sepia colored. The film then proceeds very elegantly for about the first third of its running time. He uses mostly long pans and tracking shots, and then may stop to focus on a scene as he gradually pulls the camera in closer, but almost never to a close up. His sense of mise en scene is superb, but even more he evokes a very specific time and place. His cinematography is superb, and often highly gorgeous. There is a superb scene at jusr about the end of the first third, where Eleni,the film's principal character, wants to leave and walks down to the water. She is suddenly surrounded by a group of men who begin to dance with her. That scene and the music in it are quite intoxicating. it reminds me a little of Fellini. The film then darkens drastically, becomes more political, and also somewhat fantastical, non linear, and rather mythic in tone. There are some beautiful, truly remarkable images here--the streets, the slaughtered sheep hanging from the trees, and a funeral procession in the water with the funeral party on a raft, surrounded by fishing boats all lite by lanterns. Then there is the final third of the film which takes us to WW2, but the style is quite abstract and elliptical, and where it is very difficult to pinpoint time. By the end her family is destroyed, and she becomes a figure of true Euripidean tragedy. It's devastating, and suddenly not only mythic but timeless.

Angelopoulos again makes the most of an intellectual way of cinema, which is though full of poetry and with the stain of compassion. History and human relationships are emphasized through the symbolic order of ancient Greek tragedy and that is what makes the film have a more "heavy" character, which makes it a little harder to follow than a usual Hollywood production- do not misjudge me, I love it too. As long as it concerns the scenario the modern history of Greece becomes only the environment in which the man wrecks along with his fate. Angelopoulos recons the mechanizations of History upon man and tries to make a clear statement upon it. The film itself is the most mature of the Greek director and has all his personal characteristics bound together in an excellent work!

THE WEEPING MEADOW ('Trilogia I: To Livadi pou dakryzei') is writer/director Theodoros Angelopoulos (with influences from Tonino Guerra plus assistance from Petros Markaris and Giorgio Silvagni) creating a personal vision of the 20th century. The incredibly gifted Greek poet of a filmmaker mirrored the life and death of his own mother whose time on earth spanned a century and elected to capture the 100 years of sadness in a trilogy of films: The Weeping Meadow is Part I and details the years 1919 through 1949. It is a masterwork.

The film opens with what will be the trademark look of the movie - vistas of lonely people in a nearly monochromatic color space that uses water, both from rain and the collected results of rain. A group of refugees from Odessa have landed by a river in Thessaloniki where they must attempt to reconstruct their lives. Among them is a family - a wife and husband with their young son and a three-year-old orphan Eleni they have protected. The entire movie seems to be in slow motion, but that is just the studied, unhurried rhythm of Angelopoulos' direction. As time passes we find that Eleni at a very early age has just given birth to twin boys while she has been sent away for the family's appearances: the father is the young son of the family. The story progresses through the World Wars, the civil wars, the influence of Hitler and Mussolini, the natural disasters of floods and disease, the social disparities of class, the rise of unions, the fall of democracy - all mirrored in the family that is trying to make the chaos of living in Greece resemble some sort of order. The young man is a musician and once he and Eleni have reunited with their twin boys, he decides he will go to America, the land of Promise for poverty stricken refugees, to work and make enough money to bring Eleni and the twins to America. But in his absence the progressive civil unrest and poverty the three endure in his absence results in the ultimate dissolution of the family.

The story is less important than the moods evoked. The cinematography by Andreas Sinanos is a long gallery of miraculously composed, beautiful images: the cortège on the river, the flapping white sheets behind which we discover musicians, the constant vistas of the ocean and the river, the village and the battlegrounds burn themselves onto our visual fields and into memory. The gorgeous music that accompanies this symphonic work is by Eleni Karaindrou, mixing folksongs with wondrous symphonic moments. The cast is superb: they manage to create very specific people despite the fact that we rarely see them up close. But in the end this visual treasure is the extraordinary work of Theodoros Angelopoulos. If this is Part I of a Trilogy (at almost three hours running time), we can only imagine the power that will follow in the Parts II and III. Experiencing THE WEEPING MEADOW takes patience and a long uninterrupted period of time; the rewards are immeasurably fine. In Greek with English subtitles. Grady Harp

Most of the story's most significant events are entirely unseen; Angelopoulos seems to be less interested in events than in their aftermath. What we see is not conflict, not love, and not loss, but rather the effects of these things on the people in the story. It's almost like watching only the scenes that would be cut out of a Hollywood epic; all the "fat" that would normally be trimmed to create a lean story is on display here without any of what would be considered the "meat." The result is something less thrilling but altogether more resonant. Things take a long time to occur not just within scenes but within the viewer's mind as well. I didn't start to really feel for any of these people until about an hour into the film, but at that point I suddenly found myself completely hooked.

I was particularly amazed by my reaction to Eleni, played by Alexandra Aidini. For much of the movie she is given little to do but cry and her performance is seemingly rather weak. But by the end of the film I felt deeply connected with her plight and I felt tied to every emotional upheaval she encountered. Her performance likewise became extremely powerful, and unless Angelopoulos shot this film in sequence I have to assume it was engineered that way somehow. Perhaps it's simply that Angelopoulos spends so much time distancing the audience from the drama that when he finally goes in for a close-up (figuratively -- in literal terms there's nothing tighter than a medium shot here) the emotion just smacks you in the face.

Beyond the characters, the film is amazing simply for its visual audacity, the way every long shot is planned to the minutest detail a la Bela Tarr, and they only become more staggering as time wears on. The story also feels ancient; despite taking place (mostly) in the 1940's, you sense a profound connection to the heritage of its characters and their history, such that moments which in other cases might seem like melodramatic clichés (the unraveling of Eleni's scarf, for instance) instead feel like deeply rooted folk symbolism.