Sur le chemin de la vie

While the bracketing two segments are very good, the middle segment, "White Geese"(?) is the one which stood out. It is a story about two aviary biologists who are visiting a game preserve to find the last of a species of white geese. In long takes, the film shows the beauty and value of the preserve, and takes the viewer into the heart of the game warden. When poachers come hunting, the segment reaches a startling climax.

This is a beautifully shot movie, with interesting stories and solid acting. Information about what is happening is slowly reeled out, keeping the audience thinking and engaged.

Ok, all of you who liked Godzilla will hate this one. But for somebody who thinks movies like Underground have something to say, it's more than worth a look. The movie is actually three films. In the first one (Ola ine dromos) a father goes to the place where his son, a soldier, suicided. In the second (i teleutaia nanochina) Thanassis Veggos, imho one of the best Greek actors ever, is a forest-guard in a Prespa, a lake in the northern borders of Greece and chases illegal hunters. In the last one (Vietnam) the director shows the lowest level of what is sometimes called (but isn't fortunately) modern greek culture. Vietnam is a night club where a newly divorced guy spends a fortune just to prove that he's something.

This is one of the best Greek movies I have seen in the last years. Three stories dealing with three men and their stance towards life, given their personal background. All stories are held in Northern Greece (Macedonia and Thrace), covering all the spectrum from urban to rural settings. Very solid scenario, wonderful photography (especially the Delta of river Evros) and amazing performances by all three protagonists. On the flip side, some minor issues are that a lot of situations appear artificial, without the atmosphere leading naturally to them and that the quality of the supporting cast is generally sub-par (notable exception is the third story, more on that later).

The first story is generally considered the weakest. I had the same opinion myself when I first saw this movie when it came out, but seeing it again and from a different perspective I can now say it is equally beautiful (whoever has served his military duty would really appreciate this one!).

The second story is somewhat neutral until Veggos comes to the foreground. He takes this story on his shoulders and delivers a memorable performance. This story is mostly based on Veggos acting and Evros' Delta aquatic life, but I have to give a credit to the ending, which is unexpected and exceptional.

And then we arrive at the third story, almost everyone's favorite and already elevated to "essential classic" status among Greek cinema lovers. It has the best ever representation of what in Greece we call "dog" clubs and are now a cult phenomenon. The singers were real "dog" singers (remember Spyros Dimitriou - "Makis, you and I will never die", how cool was that!) and the songs real "dog" songs (which unfortunately weren't included in the movie soundtrack). Special credit to the authentic dog club feel, which is worked out to the very last head gesture. As the story progresses, it reaches levels of supreme cult coolness. The very last scene rightfully makes it to the top-10 scenes of Greek cinema. And I don't think any other actor could play the lead role with such a quality Armenis did. He was magnificent.

In general, a movie with depth and class. Far beyond classic no brainers, but still has some minor identity problems. I would suggest it to anyone lucky enough to find it.

Three stories taking place in North Greece. So, OK, the first two are admittedly a bit weak, but they are strongly helped by strong performances by two truly great actors; in the first one, Dimitris Katalifos makes you feel the deep sorrow of the father who has lost his only son, and the scene at the village cafe is truly powerful; and in the second one, Thanasis Vegos (perhaps the all-time greatest Greek comedian, who in his old age has also shown a great capacity in dramatic roles), delivers another fine performance, emphasized by the shocking ending.

And then comes the third story...

Giorgos Armenis is abandoned by his wife, who takes their children with her. Overcome in the deepest degree with pain and sorrow, he goes to the cheap nightclub-brothel where he was a regular customer and there he goes to the extremes... Rarely has a Greek filmaker expressed such powerful emotions as Pantelis Voulgaris in this one. And rarely has a Greek actor given such an unbelievable performance as G. Armenis. Every look of his face, every word that comes out of his mouth makes the heart grieve and the eyes fill with tears. This one is a great experience not to be missed.

This is an essential glimpse into Greek soul, fundamental in any list of cinema from here for anyone who wants to know a bit about the people, in particular the much apotheosized third segment (it's an omnibus of three stories) but the whole is worth tracing. 

An archeology professor, this is the filmmaker, takes it upon himself to unearth with the help of his crew something fundamentally ancient from the earth itself, this happens to be the skeleton of a soldier which sets off its own story of memory and loss, but it points at large to the memory, the internal narrative, of something that rests in the ground of collective soul.

And what does he bring to light? It's the same predicament that Kavafis wrote his poems about and Greeks face when they mull about their place, one of finding ourselves with the burden of so much narrative to placate; memory, history, ancestors.

The filmmaker eulogizes this fixation with something lost and ineffable, a lost son, a rare bird that nests in the ancestral place and pulls us back there, with a solemn air that Greeks will find familiar, the same yearning gives rise to some of the most deeply felt music and poetry from any country (as well as nationalism) but in the long run I find it to be a refuge for despair and selfpity, it's not something I can build a worldview around.

It's in the film; the first segment climaxes with a journey to the mountains, the hermitage where a vision is encountered but this soldier turns the professor back, there is no son to be found there anymore but the father still clings to the image. The second story shows a flame of bygone youth and an old uncle who have both grown roots by the river, unwilling to move on.

(For anyone who wonders where the woe and fixation comes from, do not forget that the historical capital of Hellenism is not Athens, it's Constantinople, and one of the richest narratives around here is about lost homes as recent as our grandfathers' time. Townships scattered around the country, including the one I write this from, are designated as "New" because the "old" ones where refugees came from are no longer Greek.)

But I push all that to the side, it's stifling itself. It's the third segment that makes this worthwhile, rising above mere platitude.

Leading up to it we saw noble characters, the third one is a womanizing louse, another archetypal figure. He also has to face the loss of loved ones (his wife abandons him with the kids) but now it can be seen to be his fault. The spoken word in the first two was theatric monologue, another Greek burden, now the face carries all the sorrow, he only utters two or three lines each one a classic quote around here. And in a brushstroke of crazy inspiration, the hermitage of atonement now becomes a cheap club by the interstate highway in the middle of nowhere, so called "dog" clubs are scattered throughout the country. Greek viewers will appreciate it ironically as a place of trashy entertainment.

You'll know what happens when you see it, the film is a cult item here for just this piece. I saw it recently in a festival screening with people in attendance speaking the lines out loud.

Suffice to say that everything inside the club is of the dazed mind of this man, the cheaply perfumed women, the dingy atmosphere, it's what led him to where he is. Suffice to say that the songs wallow about losing a woman but now we process in a tongue- in-cheek manner because of the place.

It is as ancient as anything else from here; a recently unearthed Orphic inscription from around Plato's time reads "Now you have died and now you have come into being, on this same day. Tell Persephone that Bacchios (Dionysos) himself has freed you." It's the same yearning to transcend suffering that surfaces across religious icons of saints and zeimbekiko dance.

Watch it to see the ecstatic release, the man shedding his own self that he has set fire to and walking away, dying and coming into being now, on the same day. But has he learned anything about what creates his own suffering, has he been truly freed? And this is also Greek.