Sátántangó

I saw this film at a Bela Taar festival and I remember it having 3 or 4 breaks because it was so long. But it was worth it. I am constantly remembering the images from this piece, I don´t even remember the exact story, but the images, the sequences, were just lovely. If you ever have a chance to see this film projected, take it. Don´t worry if you can´t sit through the whole thing, just see some of it, you won´t forget it. Marvelous long takes, wonderful characters. That first scene with the tracking shot of the cows and the two guys walking down the street with the garbage blowing in the wind around them. Wonderful black and white film. I advise all cat lovers to stay away. Bela Taar is one of the best.

My name is George Zoes and I am the assistant director of Theo Angelopoulos, the famous director from Greece. I just finished watching the movie and I am in state of cinematic nirvana. I only thought Theo Angelopoulos had the secans shots but I was mistaken.

Bela Tar knows what he is doing. For the people who are addicted to post modern cinema this movie would be a nervous breakdown. But for the people who love the power of images, who keep their minds open, who investigate the same art of cinema, its a miracle this film exists.

The time games that Bela Tar plays with the shots from a different angle are unique and the atmosphere that he creates conviced me that this is a parrarel universe rather than a cinema story. Its a purgative cinema that personally gave me trust to make my own feature film. The visual story seems greater than the written one but its not. I have the feeling that this form is the most suitable for this content. Its like the flesh and the blood, you cant distinguish them.

Thank you Bela Tar and to your screenwriter.

I am ready to leave Theo to work with you.

The dance with the devil based on novelist László Krasznahorkai's novel about the aftermath of the fall of communism for sure has to rank very high up when it gets to unconventional motion pictures. Filmed in beautiful black and white by Hungarian director Béla Tarr in the early Nineties, the movie consists of twelve parts and lasts seven and a half hours with single tracking shots up to ten minutes, often with very little or only repetitive action on screen. And it rains and rains and rains. Make no mistake: Despite its length Satantango is not an epic narration, but rather achieves long lasting impressions by pointing the camera on banalities inspired by the bleakness of the scenery, perfectly enhanced by the director's choices what to show and how to show it in order to induce a trance-like reaction in the viewer. And while doing so Satantango mesmerizes, shocks, devastates, enthralls.

The time line is a bit unclear and episodes overlap or could have happened the same way at another time. Yet there is a main thread of story about a con-man in the messiah's disguise, a seemingly eternally lasting dance in the very middle, and an essential episode about a little girl representing the core of the film - a symbol of the disillusionment and victim of betrayal, desperately searching for ways to exert some power herself in her forlorn reality. Not that much is happening in Satantango, and some things remain vague, but reality is also transcended at key points adding to the allegorical impact. The aesthetics of the experience and its ultimate conclusion will remain with those who are open for it.

Goaded on by curiosity, I saw SATANTANGO at the Pacific Film Archive several years ago. Critics gushed that SATANTANGO was without parallel - but two hours into the movie, I was less than impressed. Very little plot. Black and gray photography. Segments that went on seemingly forever, with no clear point. Much of the audience filed out early, and I left early, too. Was the director, Bela Tarr, trying to make the film an endurance contest?

More recently, I consulted the Internet Movie Database to see what was written about SATANTANGO. The cumulative rating of 8.5 of 10 was impressive, as were the write-ups. "A stunning experience," says one viewer. "Biggest cinematic experience in history," says another. The kudos go on and on. But if you scroll down the database, you'll also find the negative reviews. "Self- indulgent, annoying," one writer says. One of the more measured responses is, "I do not regret that I saw this movie, but I certainly to not think it was a day well-spent" - after giving the film a 1 of 10 rating.

So, I decided to see the film again - this time on DVD - to determine if my initial dismissal at the PFA was warranted. And I learned how to appreciate a different kind of movie - and even come to enjoy it. My hints to a naive viewer:

• Calibrate your attention span. The individual takes of SATANTANGO are unusually long; the first scene, set outside a pen for steers and chickens, lasts over eight minutes, with no cuts. Just a single tracking shot. This happens through the entire film; in fact, the long takes and slow tracking shots give the film its rhythm and style. If you go into SATANTANGO expecting a film paced to contemporary standards, you'll be disappointed. If you can, take a few breaks between segments - and ask questions.

• Learn about recent European history. It's possible to enjoy SATANTANGO on its own merits, but understanding recent history helps greatly. The film dramatizes the economic depression that gripped the break-up of the Soviet blok, and things gone very bad, indeed. There's crumbling infrastructure everywhere. People struggle to get by, just barely, by depending on agricultural collectives (like the one depicted in SATANTANGO). This gray, depressing worldview would eventually engulf the region.

• Structure, structure, structure. The key to appreciating SATANTANGO lies in understanding the film's structure. Another reviewer here aptly mentioned Akira Kurosawa's RASHOMON, wherein the film's narrative is defined by a single event - told in entirely different ways by the main characters. SATANTANGO uses a similar technique; several characters experience the same segment of time from different points of view. The eight-minute "preface" introduces us to the collective itself - where the barebones infrastructure is shown. From here, each segment of the film is separated by an inter-title; when a new segment starts, we see the same action - from a new character's POV. But nearly every segment involves leaving this wet, cold, impoverished piece of hell - or try to exploit it.

• Dance "the Satantango." The musical segments can open the way to appreciating and even enjoying SATANTANGO. Music is important for Tarr, and the repeating figures of dance are a metaphor. The tango is a repeating dance that abides by the rule, "one step forward, two steps back." It's reflected in the lives of the characters, who take one step forward in their lives, but always end up two steps back. The "chapters" of the film don't move forward like a typical narrative work; it repeats the same segment of time, over and over again. If you're frustrated by the fact that the movie seems static - that's the point. SATANTANGO is a story that can't move forward; it repeats the same familiar song, over and over - until a development determines a new course of action for the characters.

I didn't enjoy SATANTANGO when I saw it the first time, but I've since become a fan. The investment of time may seem extreme to some, but it's more than worthwhile.

This is my favorite film of all time and its such a pity that it gets screened so rarely, but who can blame the cinemas as not too many people are prepared to take Tarr's advice and call in sick in order to spend eight hours at the movies instead of going to work. Also, I reckon this is one of the very few films you actually have to see on a big screen, so even if it was available on DVD, it wouldn't do much good. I've seen it three times so far and I got blown away every single time. So I really urge you to give it a go if this epic masterpiece comes anywhere near you. First time I saw it was on the Berlin Film Festival in 94 and I have to admit I wasn't really prepared to sit through the whole thing, but after three hours I was completely hooked and when the credits finally rolled in, I was rather sad that it was over. I would have liked to spend another few hours in this strange and compelling world. OK, the plot in itself is kinda depressing and bearing in mind that it runs for so many hours, not that much happens, but to complain about the absence of jolly dialog and action packed stunts would be completely beside the point. You just have to be willing to go along with Tarr's approach and once you accept that storytelling here is a bit different to what you are used to, the whole thing it is more exciting, entertaining and gripping than everything you've ever seen. Tarr's main achievement in my view is that he creates a completely new form of imagery and its so utterly convincing that I still wonder why it never caught on big time. Instead of editing the takes into a scene during post production, he shots almost everything in one go with the help of a steady cam. As the takes are as long as 7 minutes (just a spirited guess, I never timed them) and involve occasionally more than 9 actors its just utterly amazing how Tarr choreographs actors and camera in a way that it seems perfectly natural and you get to see exactly what you need to see. Well its pretty hard to explain if you haven't seen it as it really is so different from everything else. What can I tell you? Every single frame is aesthetically a revelation, thus making this an utter delight from start to finish. I could harp on endlessly about why I love this film so much. About the absolutely convincing atmosphere, the great acting, the inventive use of lighting, how the story unfolds, the subtle use of humor, but as it is with all great love affairs, words fail to even hint at the magnificence of Sátántangó. Go, see and believe.