A Antena

La Antena is a beautifully crafted fairy tale that plays with the technical limitations of yesteryear's movies and uses this idea for telling the story of oppressed people, who are robbed of their speech. The strong symbolism, the rich scenes and the believable characters make a lasting impression on the viewer and make for memorable scenes, even though the plot isn't the strongest aspect of the movie.

Overall 7/10 Full review on movie-discourse.blogspot.de

Some would argue that Argentinean director Esteban Sapir's La Antena is an exercise in anachronistic futility; that, while the silent films to which Sapir's pays homage were at the cutting edge of cinema when they were made, they are outdated today, leaving La Antena a meaningless oddity.

I would disagree. Fervently. La Antena melds the conventions of the silent film with 21st century technology, making it the ultimate exercise in post-modern film-making.

The film is set in the timeless "The City Without a Voice", so called because the citizens have been rendered speechless by Mr. TV, a dictator/media mogul with his hair painted on. The City resembles the titular one in Fritz Lang's seminal Metropolis (1927), perhaps 100 years before that film. It is all expressionist skyscrapers, TV aerials, and animated billboards.

The citizens of the City are mollified by La Voz (The Voice), the only person with the gift of speech. Her face perpetually shrouded by a hood (kept on even when she is naked), La Voz is forced to sing on Mr. TV's television network. But when Mr. TV concocts a plan to steal the written word as well, La Voz and her eyeless son join forces with a renegade family in an attempt to return the freedom of speech to the people.

La Antena is nothing but pure cinema. Burdening himself with the conventions of the silent film, Sapir has to rely upon images to tell his story. There is sound, most notably in the almost continuous score by Leo Sujatovich. It evokes the best of silent movie music, as well as ingenuously working itself into the film's diegesis, such as the beeping of car horns, or the rhythmic ra-ta-tat-tat of gunfire. And, underlying the whole film is a familiar whirring, as if it were being shown on an ancient projector.

There is a fair amount of dialogue as well. But instead of using intertitles, Sapir has the characters' words appear in the frame. They are larger or smaller, filling the screen or hovering meekly in the air, depending on what is being said. Think a more imaginative version of the subtitles in Night Watch (2004).

Thankfully, the words don't distract from the images. Which is very fortunate indeed, because La Antena boasts some of the most creative and original images we've seen in a long time, all captured by Cristian Cottet's sumptuous black-and-white photography. There are the expressionist cityscapes. The hooded singer and her eyeless son. There is the city's abandoned aerial, which looks like the decayed remains of some colossal spider. And there's the sinister Dr. Y, whose jabbering mouth is displayed on a television screen attached to his face.

La Antena has been criticised for relying too much on its imagery, while skimping on the allegorical depth. But, again, I would disagree. It is true that the sudden appearance of a mind-control machine shaped like a swastika, or the eyeless boy seemingly crucified on a Star of David, feels out of place, a tad over the top in what is otherwise merely a well-crafted fairy tale.

But the lack of overt symbols (the two previous examples aside) works in the film's favour. It allows us to make up our own minds: to decide whether to infer political meaning, to see La Antena as an allegory for fascism, the danger of capitalist monopolies, and the power and responsibility of the media; or to just take the film at face value, as a visually stunning adventure through a world simultaneously unique and familiar.

The sacrifice of explicit depth in favour of unique imagery may seem like a compromise. But, really, when a film looks as good as this, it's hard to care. There is more imagination and artistry in every frame of La Antena than Hollywood can shake a derivative stick at. Evoking films almost 100 years old might be futile, but in doing so, Sapir may be showing us what is lacking in the films of today. He may be telling us that it is time for another artistic revolution. And he may be right.

LA ANTENA (Esteban Sapir - Argentina 2005).

A completely unique take on silent cinema in this fairy-tale like story by Esteban Sapir, beautifully shot in black-and-white and practically without dialog, "La Antena" is a feast for the eye and a must for lovers of German expressionist cinema, with most of the nods to the works of Fritz Lang and Friedrich Murnau.

'The City without a Voice', 'La Ciudad sin Voz', is ruled by Mr. TV. He has taken the inhabitants voices and is in total control of all spoken words and images, forcing everyone to eat his own brand of TV-food. Mr TV is not just a monopolist, he is the personification of evil and totalitarianism, even the swastika appears as a symbol a number of times. He secretly works on a hypnotizing device to control all the citizens minds through his television broadcasts. For this purpose, he kidnaps the only one left with The Voice, a beautiful singer, but a TV repairman witnesses the kidnapping and flees to an old TV antenna in the mountains in order to halt Mr. TV's evil plans.

The production design is stunning with beautiful sets and imagery. Although shot primarily with the basic language of silent cinema, Esteban Sapir also adds a number of fresh techniques of his own, like a combination of typographic and animation techniques. Everyone talks with each other through text balloons (usually floating near their mouths), the louder they talk, the larger the characters. The texts themselves can be pushed away or crushed. In the opening sequence, we see a book, titled "La Antena", that opens and a city of paper rises from the pages. There are hardly any references to Argentina. It's constantly snowing, which gives the film a very un-Argeninian feel, while the surreal setting suggests any large city in the Northen hemisphere, with only some of the songs revealing the film's Argentinian background.

The pace is swift and there is so much happening on screen, it's hard to keep track of the film's surreal narrative. Not only breathtakingly beautiful to look at, we're also given a few messages about media monopolies, corruption and totalitarianism, but they are breezily packaged. One of the most original films I've seen in years. A delight.

The film was shown as the opening film at the IFF Rotterdam 2007.

Camera Obscura --- 9/10

I've seen this movie twice on Transilvania International Film Festival(TIFF), the movie is in competition and I really hope that Esteban Sapir will get one of the awards (at least the best image award).

As a silent cinema fan I'm interested in contemporary movies that quote or recreate the language of the yester-year cinema. The previous reviewer emphasized the quotes from Fritz Lang and Fr. W. Murnau. As I see it, the movie references directly Lang's Metropolis, and the allegorical-parabolic character of his plots. But I didn't see Murnau in it. There's a more obvious Melies-homage though: the Moon with a (here cigar-smoking) human face, and the paper-made, painted mountains and city-landscapes. I enjoyed the film mostly for its visuals, and in the meantime I found very interesting the story on muteness, and the creative means of communication used by the inhabitants of the voiceless city. From this perspective this movie is an unique reflexion on the muteness of the silent cinema, because in the films of the silent period one can hardly find stories with mute characters. In this case can be questioned whether the story on the stolen voices was the motivation for the silent film form, or there's an intention to play upon the muteness of the silent films. Another example of this kind of reflexion I found in Guy Maddin's Careful,where the inhabitants of a mountain-village have restrictions in using their voices. I intend to write a paper on it, if you know movies related to this topic, please let me know!!!

I highly recommend Esteban Sapir's film to every moviegoer (one of the critics called it: the jewel of the festival).

PS: Winners were announced, and the film won the award for best cinematography!

The summary line is some men's wet dream for the ideal woman ... ;o) Seriously though, back to the movie, which has classic cinema written all over it (pun intended and quite literally shown in the picture, too as you'll see)!

How could someone make a silent movie in this year and age? It's not completely silent for once (take the music for instance). With great cinematography is the answer. And it's no wonder that it did win prizes (as another user stated) in this area! But it's also sometimes it's downfall. Although the pictures are great, it sometimes delves too much in them instead of moving forward (plot and time wise). If you can cope with that, than you'll enjoy it even more than me. I haven't told you anything about the story, but I'll never do that, because I don't want to spoiler anything for you ...