La terre qui pleure

I think anyone familiar with Angelopoulos knows what to expect with his films: long, drawn out, meticulously planned shots that slowly scan environments, with the image composed of not only the foreground but hundreds of yards into the background. I guess some are not impressed with the director's style, but that really astounds me. I definitely see the man as a master of his medium, and The Weeping Meadow is as good as any of his other films – every one I've seen so far is a masterpiece or close to it. This film has a lot in common with the director's first big success, The Traveling Players. It follows a little girl, Eleni, from 1919 to the time of the Greek Civil War, at the end of WWII. And, as the title implies, it's a great tragedy. There is a lot of weeping. It may be long and slow, but it's always gripping. Angelopoulos' imagery is second to none in modern cinema. There are just so many jaw-dropping sequences. My favorite was the one where the camera explored its way through a maze of bed sheets drying on clotheslines, discovering various musicians hidden within. It's not a complaint, per se, but if you're going to watch the film beware of its chronological ellipses. The film can skip ahead years in just a second, when the pace usually makes each second feel like years (in a good way!). I hope New Yorker video, or some other company, digs up the Angelopoulos films that have been unavailable so far, and puts The Traveling Players on DVD, as well.

Theo Angelopolous, the Greek director, undertakes the colossal task of putting in a film some thirty years of history in his country. The director has a poetical way to present his story, which was written in collaboration with some of the best minds of the business, namely, Tonino Guerra, Giorgio Silvani and Petros Markaris, one of our own favorite Greek writers.

The result is a complex canvas in which Mr. Angelopolous paints for us, the viewer, in dark colors that gives us an idea of what the country went through during that period. In a way, the director seems to be taking an outside position in recounting the tragedy his country lived by photographing in long shots almost every frame of the film. Of course, this being his style, it suits the poetical way in which he conceives the basic idea.

There are lots of moments in the film that take the viewer's breath away by the beauty of the composition of a particular scene. It's clear the director uses a lot of symbolism in trying to get his point across. The opening scene with the returning people from the Odessa massacre being one of the most effective things in the film. The rowing boats carrying people affected by the flood is another. The many white sheets waving in the wind, are just the highlights of the story, the way Mr. Angelopolous conceives it.

The actors act as an ensemble. Alexandra Aidini, who plays Eleni, the woman at the center of the tragedy, makes quite an impression. The excellent fading cinematography by Andreas Sinanos gives a rich texture to the film, as well as the music score by Eleni Karaindrou, that greatly enhances the mood of it.

While this film is definitely for a general public, it shows great moments of brilliance created by Theo Angelopolous working at his best.

I had watched years ago some older films of Aggelopoulos and i was expecting a slow movie, with minimal dialogues, many symbolisms, weak plot and superb photography. I got exactly what i expected and something more: i left the theatre with an extreme satisfaction.

The film: Greece roughly between 1920 and 1950 (but it is so current and contemporary because it deals with global, recurring themes). The life of the nation through events: national catastrophes, refugees, social and political unrest, world and civil wars. The life of the person through emotions: love, lust, pride, hope, love, desperation, ambition, love, death. And many symbolisms and extremely powerful and beautiful scenes with references from ancient myths to current international affairs. And rain, lots of rain :-) The plot and the development of the characters may appear weak. We are used to ready meals from the business of cinema, which overwhelm us with fast dialogues, "strong" performances and "exciting" situations. And that's fine. But cinema and people need also the approach of Aggelopoulos, we need some space and time, to reflect and realise our existence. "To Livadi pou dakryzei" gives more freedom and time to the viewer to participate with his feelings and memories and thoughts. That's exactly interactive art.

These are some of my interpretations of some scenes: village flooding (Climate Change and the forces of Nature), immigration/separation (departure of my girlfriend), mother crying over her soldier sons dead bodies (this is a real war scene, not the computer games style). You will identify with other scenes (everyone has an opinion, right ?) and you will feel alive.

I am grateful to Aggelopoulos for giving me the chance to look inside myself, remember, sigh, think.

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.

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.