Electra, a Vingadora

Do I like this movie because it appeals to my lingering intellectual snobbery and belief that the old-time Greeks, particularly Euripides were onto something? I can't deny that it's part of the reason, but surely the staging and Walter Lassally's striking black-and-white photography and Irene Papas' smoldering performance help. I won't give my customary synopsis, because you shouldn't need it. Nowadays we are no longer familiar with the revenge drama, which fell out of favor after the 16th century, but if you've ever seen Hamlet, you know what it is, with its bloodiness that should soothe our own blood lust. Perhaps we need to make them more often these days, with everyone dying at the end. Perhaps it would ease some of the tensions of modern America; our politics all too often seem to be about hurting the right people; perhaps a dramatic version of the Sandy Hook Massacre would make people think twice. Or perhaps it would make them think "Boy, that's cool!"

Such deep philosophical questions aside, this one is worth it for the stark beauty of the torchlit night scenes, and the ancient, ruined landscape of modern Greece. Plus a heckuva story and performances.

Slow. Deliberate. Engaging. Mesmerizing. Poetic.

The real star of the show is the exterior shots. The acting, especially by Papas, is deservedly acclaimed. The music score is sumptuous. The minimal dialogue serves to heighten the film-watching experience. But what strikes me dumbfounded is the amazing blocking of the actors...most assuredly by the director...as it mimics true choreography.

One imdB reviewer labels this film a "snorefest". I can understand that opinion if you require something action-oriented. This film is purely cerebral, so don't expect something beyond that.

Oddly enough, my cable provider classifies this film as AO--Adults Only. That rating, also known as NC-17, is reserved for sexual content deemed too explicit to warrant an R rating. Be assured there's absolutely and assuredly nothing explicit about this film. No sex. All violence is implied.

Recommended for cinema junkies.

I have just seen this film again via DVD after first seeing it in a cinema 40 years ago, and it remains in my view a staggering masterpiece of world cinema. It is a film that should be compulsory viewing by all aspiring film-makers since it is, unlike so many of today's movies which really are over influenced by television, so cinematic it makes one positively nostalgic for concepts like film grammar and form. Cunningly, it is almost a silent movie with a wonderful soundtrack, and the acting, (outstanding by all concerned), shows the great value of body language, and how good film editing, the use of a superb musical score, and excellent black and white cinematography can convey such powerful and poignant emotions. The play on which it is based has of course the soundest of psychological under-pinnings; guilt is an emotion and state of mind that can ONLY be experienced once one has done something horrendous enough to make it possess you. It cannot be imagined or anticipated, and, even when "rational" thought seems to justify the act, as Elektra and Orestes find to their cost, this evaporates instantly once that rage has been quenched. The final sequence of this film, after the mother has been murdered, and when these realisations manifest themselves is so overwhelming and powerful that only the hardest of heart could not be profoundly moved. But, like all good psycho-therapy, it is ultimately sanctifying, even if at the same time it is heart-breaking and almost unbearably poignant. Certainly one of the best films I have ever seen in my life, and every department deserves the highest praise and congratulations. One of the very few films to which I have awarded a 10/10 vote.

As an adaptation of a two thousand year old Greek tragedy, Michael Cacoyannis' "Electra" is hard to beat, and I cannot imagine it being improved upon by any further attempt on it now: there is a stripped down starkness and simplicity to it that benefits it greatly, and lends it the haunting quality of myth that no amount of CGI could better.

It has immaculately brooding, glowing cinematography, unsurpassably shot amid the ancient stones of Mycenae itself, and the music by Mikis Theodorakis (of Zorba The Greek fame) is timeless and perfect.

If I had to point out any weaknesses at all, perhaps Irene Papas in the title role looks a little too 60s in her look, although her acting is fine. There's a couple of gaps in the narrative that should probably have been filmed and inserted, as their absence either weakens the drama or feels confusing. But these are small quibbles.

Several times while watching I found myself thinking it would make a good double bill with Orson Welles' Othello, as it feels cut from a similar cloth, though it is a better film for being less wordy. Recommended.

From the first moment I saw the movie I rejoiced every bit of it : the crisp splendid black-and-white photography introducing an overwhelmingly barren landscape interacting with the drama we all know to come, the haunting "ancestral" score by Theodorakis, the impact of all sounds, the use of the choir with its laments and warnings and commentaries on everything and everybody, the tensions between good and evil mixed with love and hate, the unavoidable fate of the protagonists who cannot escape destiny as prescribed by bloodline and gods.

Besides being moved by too many unforgettable scenes enforced by splendid suggestive cutting (the actual murders, Electra's cutting her hair for the revenge to come, the confrontations between mother and daughter or brother and sister expressing their antagonistic emotions), the ultimate brilliance this masterpiece is Irene Papas outcry of grief and distress, the camera turning on itself as taking literally heaven and earth as her witness.

Appealing as strong to me as E. Munch's cry or Picasso's Guernica, I visited Mycene much later and still felt the movie's impact discovering this cursed place through Cacoyannis' lens.