Vakvagany

The dark heart of Benjamin Meade's "Vakvagany" consists of creepy home movies, filmed sometime between 1948 and 1964, purportedly stolen from a filthy house in Hungary that was said to be crawling with cats.

"Vakvagany" zig-zags through time, sampling the stolen family films, juxtaposing them with newly-filmed footage of the old movies' still-living participants, and interviews with three spirit guides who offer their take on lurid life with the family depicted in the old and new footage: crime novelist James Ellroy (of "L.A. Confidential" fame) , psychiatrist Dr. Roy Menninger and filmmaker Stan Brakhage.

The vintage films focus on life with the Locsei family, a Hungarian couple fond of filming one another and their eventual, ill-fated offspring.

The setting for the `found' film is demolished, post-World War II Europe (much of the footage depicts damage done to cities during the war).

The usual family moments are captured in the old family films, such as giving the new baby in the house a bath.

But the camera lingers lasciviously long on naked son Erno, a cause for concern for `expert witness,' Dr. Roy Menninger, who seems increasingly to be wincing as the film (and the old family footage) unfolds. There are moments in Vakvagany - old and new - that are apt to make virtually any viewer, even the most jaded, wince, as well.

Benjamin Meade's "Vakvagany" (or, variously, "Dead End") is eighty-plus minutes of very strange cinema. Love it or hate it, it is something new, and it feels dangerous and important.

Meade has said he became enthralled with the vintage home movies and their potentially sinister subject matter: in particular, father Locsei's never clearly defined role in allegedly `helping' the European Jews fleeing Nazi Germany. The form this `help' takes is sufficiently vague to leave room for some very dark deductions regarding what exactly Papa Locsei does for a living that could be construed as `help' for potential Nazi victims.

Director Benjamin Meade lets the viewer, and his three `experts,' attempt to decide (You know you're along for a strange, strange ride when noir novelist James Ellroy, notorious for his wild stage presence and book readings, tends toward the most mundane explanations for some very, very strange behavior.)

The Alloy Orchestra, famed for its wonderful scores for vintage silent films, provides a haunting, beautiful soundtrack for "Vakvagany."

While a sometimes disturbing view, Meade's film is a rewarding ride that can't be forgotten.

I purchased a copy of "Vakvagany" at a film festival in Kansas City and was treated to a pioneering piece of film. Meade has taken the medium of family home movies and transformed it into an art form, worthy of criticism and interpretation (which, of course, he also does). Critics of "Vakvagany" most certainly will attack the filmmaker's invasion of privacy to get what he wants out of Etruska, but I found his introduction of her to be one of the most moving moments in the film. Both Eturska and Erno are the personification of abuse victims: they are portrayed as awkward children in these home videos, playing parts in the role of a "happy" family while, after the cameras turn off, only the Locseis themselves know the extent of the abuse inflicted upon these children, if any at all. Erno and Etruska are the epitome of tragic characters. The abuse at the hands of a seedy father and alcoholic mother have molded them into, quite frankly, pathetic adults. And the only way we can gauge the full effect of their traumatic childhood is to see these two in the flesh, to see that Etruska lives in squalor and still hasn't faced the proverbial demons of her past, instead shutting down completely. In a sense, Meade has done a favor to Etruska and Erno by exposing their lives for us to see, to alert us to the plight of the "survivor" of a dysfunctional family. It is through these two that we can recognize the acts that the Locseis display for the camera likely veiled a darker side of the family.

My comments here roughly reflect what I got out of the movie: that our home movies indeed turn us into actors, that we sometimes present ourselves to the viewer in a different light and that, try as we may, our true nature still could shine through. And after the filming is done, we need to be able to take responsibility for our actions and our treatment of our family and to account for what we have produced (in this case, the Locsei "children"). While the home movie is a snapshot in time, it also is a case study of the inner workings of the family unit. I believe Meade is telling the viewer that we have a responsibility to face what our family has molded us into as adults, no matter how horrible. Amid all of the criticism "Vakvagany" has received, Meade should know that he has at least one fan who recognizes his film for what it is: a trailblazing look at humanity.

This is a fantastic piece of filmmaking. Benjamin Meade has taken something as mundane as the home movie and created a stunning work. What is fascinating is that there is so much in this quasi- documentary that is shown. We follow a family, but like all families they have their history and live in a world that has history. They are their own world, and part of the world around them.

The narration- comments that occur durring the film remind us of that. The family has their life, but part of that life is in the world in which they live.

Then, we seek the family today. We wonder what happened to that family that we watched and became interested. This is where we literally jump into the screen. The director meets the son depicted in the home movies. We see what has happened to the son, raising questions about the rest of the family. We seek the daughter. This is where the director Meade shows what kind of film this is. Instead of being a dispassioned reporter, he has involved himself in this family. When there are questions about the wellbeing of the sister, the director involves himself, and the audience via the camera, in finding the answer.

Does he take things too far? That is what each of us have to answer of ourselves. I guess it all depends on whether you can be compassionate with a camera in your hands. But, the audience should be greatful that they were taken on the journey.

It also raises another interesting question. While much of the film takes place in Hungary, there is nothing that says that it could not happen in New York, or California, or Kansas. What do our home movies tell about us. What have we done since we were children? Are there hints in anyone's childhood that says where they are going?

See the film, make your own judgements.

In Budapest, Hungary, a man with a moving truck helps two middle aged siblings relocate and steals a box of home movies from their belongings. The film reels are then sold to a visiting independent filmmaker from the United States who returns home and views them only to find them too good to be amateur. Much of the family footage contains short narratives impersonating cinema as well as several images that would ordinarily be considered inappropriate for filming. There are also several reels of the father at work in what is apparently a government position documenting the inventory of jewelry and other personal property following WW II.

The filmmaker puts together a production crew and returns to Hungary to track down the two siblings in an attempt to answer questions about the film content. Both the son and daughter are found living chaotic and separate lives of drunkenness and mental illness.

With new film material in hand, the filmmaker returns to the United States and invites three professionals (James Ellroy, Stan Brakhage, and Dr. Roy Menninger) to experience the old and the new material and offer their own interpretations.

In this admittedly controversial but thought provoking film, Benjamin Meade follows a trail to unlock the mystery posed by old `home movie' footage that he purchased in Hungary. There is something unsettling about these home movies, one scene depicting what appears to be piles and piles of tagged pieces of jewelry. This immediately makes one wonder how a person would come to possess this type of thing right after WWII? Is there a connection to the death camps? Meade taps film expert Stan Brakhage, psychiatrist Dr. Roy Menninger and mystery writer James Ellroy for their interpretations of this odd family footage, but it is the tracking and finding of the (now grown) children who appeared in the original home movies themselves that truly takes this film into bizarro land. The audience members' reactions to this brother and sister are the meat 'n potatoes of this film. Do the sins of the father visit the houses of the children? Well........... do they? Georgia Mueller