La recita

"The Travelling Players", one of the early films of Theo Angelopoulos, shows the vast difference between the talented rising director of 1975 that had something to say, and of the bourgeois famous director of 1998 ("Eternity And A Day") that won the Cannes award but had nothing left to say.

A sprawling epic running at around 4 hours, the film follows a group of touring actors performing a theatrical play across Greece between 1939 and 1952. The focus is on the troubled modern history of Greece during the period (a fascist dictatorship, resistance against the Italians, German occupation, civil war), seen through a series of warped desolate sequences drenched in languor, and also an apotheosis of traditional folklore, music, theater, rural and urban landscapes. Most of these scenes exhibit a rare poetical sensibility, while a few are a bit clumsy, but still interesting.

Couple that with the drama that unfolds within the group of players, and you've got a true masterpiece. Basically what we see is a loose adaptation of Aeschylus' ancient tragedy "Oresteia" (the father Agamemnon, the adulterous mother Clytamnestra, her lover Aegisthus, the avenging daughter Elektra, the avenging son Orestes etc). In the end, the group of actors stands severely rearranged through a painful and dividing historical period, shadows of themselves in a shadow of a country. The film ends as a perfect circle just the way it began, a metaphor for life itself.

This is my second time watching this film and it's just as great as I remember it being. In regards to Angelopoulous, the only other film I've seen from him is "Landscape in the Mist", which I also really enjoyed, but I like this one much more. "Landscape in the Mist" is definitely the more accessible of the two films since it has a greater emphasis on characterization, but while I enjoyed that film quite a bit, I prefer this film for its greater focus on its mysterious charm.

I stopped caring about the story and the characters about half an hour into this film and instead focused on the film's style. Angelopoulos seamlessly blends personal and political history in a number of hypnotic ways in just about every single sequence. And this is accomplished despite the film being almost four hours long! Throughout all the long takes in the film, Angelopoulos managed to drop my jaw a number of times. For one, he found all kinds of creative ways for the various political figures and set pieces to creep into the frame and intrude on or interrupt the characters lives. For example, the film sometimes showed the sounds of a patrol of Nazis or a political march in the distance get louder and louder until the characters eventually entered the frame. Also, sometimes when the characters would exit from the frame of a shot, it would linger in that location for a while until a soldier or a military vehicle would enter the frame, often indicating the film is jumping from past to present. This unconventional shooting style gave a hypnotic style to the film which I found quite mesmerizing and poetic.

The way violence is shown in this film is also impressive, specifically in regards to which bits are shown onscreen and which are shown offscreen. A recurring aspect to the violence was that, right when a violent bit would start, the characters would run away from the frame and the sounds of gunfire, explosions, or screaming could be heard in the distance, creating a strong sense of claustrophobia and (at times) fear of the unknown in the process. In many other cases, the violence served to prevent the actors from performing time and time again. The main highlight to the violence though is a lengthy sequence in the middle where the actors come across a gunfight between a patrol of Nazis and a group of Communists while sneaking through a town at night. The way the violence and the military units in this sequence are framed (they're only shown through the gaps between various houses and stores), in addition to a dose of surrealism, is nothing short of perfect.

Really, this film kept me glued to the screen from beginning to end in a way that few films have accomplished, and that it accomplishes this in spite of its length makes me all the more impressed by it. Some people may take issue with its lack of characterization, but I didn't mind that at all since it contributed to the film's mysterious power. Of course, I understand that many people will be intimidated by this film's length (which is understandable as I was worried it would be a chore to get through when I first watched it), but I still recommend giving it a chance anyways.

We watch movies to forget the true banality of life. Movies are packed with witty, non-stop dialogue, head-spinning action which takes place in a short period of time, and, of course, beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous women. We are so conditioned by contemporary movies, we forget or want to forget ordinarily life.

The Traveling Players by Angelopoulos has none of this. The dialogue is ordinary, spoken by ordinary people, by ordinary men and women. When they speak it is not rapid-fire, non-stop delivery, but ordinary speech most times separated by long periods of silence.

The beauty of The Traveling Players - or any film by Angelopoulos - the ordinary is beautiful. The sweeping, long scenes in this movie are stunning. We quickly identify with one or more of the traveling players. In the dialogue we can hear words spoken by a close friend or acquaintance. When the film ends nearly four hours later, you will want to see more.

This movie should not be missed.

This is the only film of Angelopoulos I really like, all those after it are just too much (or too little). It seems it is common practice for the best Greek films to be made under the harshest conditions - literary under fire! Thiasos is not an exception: it was made in about 2 years during the worst part of the military junta. Angelopoulos and his associates were planning to leave Greece on completion; during filming he would tell the police it was an action movie, a Greek western! Besides all that the core story derives from ancient Greek tragedy (Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides) and that is somewhat stunning.

O Thiasos is one of those cerebral and omphaloskeptic movies that just do not happen anymore, shamelessly demanding from the viewer to attune to its eccentric pace. Space and time become pawns in the director's hands, who in effect accomplishes their operatic tranquility in contrast to the static directorial style. In rejecting all conventions of academic narrativity it sustains its formulaic enigma throughout its considerable length, persistently (and obsessively) questioning the freedom of man in a world domineered by irreversible occurrences. Boosted equally by grandeur, mystifying symbolism and pictorial lyricism the film comes to its redeeming conclusion. Enchanting, liberating, revolutionary, focused and precise. Both coldly objective and passionately subjective. A rare masterpiece.