La terre qui pleure

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.

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.

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.

I viewed this movie at the TIFF in 2004. It was the first film I ever seen their and I have been going back every year since, hoping to see something that was as moving. By far one of the greatest films I have ever viewed. The cinematography, the acting, the script all worked hand in hand. At times when the dialogue was silent you were still captivated by what was being shown on the screen.

The movie is long, but I did not lose interest once. I was lucky enough to meet Mr. Angelopoulos at the premier of his film and believe me for a movie buff like me it was a great honor even thought I did not realize it at the time. I believe that this film should be on every bodies must watch list if you are looking for a movie that is deep.

I have since viewed a lot of movies and have yet to fond anything that I believe is as important.