121. Beautiful Day &...

Lyrics

The heart is a bloom
Shoots up through the stony ground
There's no room
No space to rent in this town

You're out of luck
And the reason that you had to care
The traffic is stuck
And you're not moving anywhere

You thought you'd found a friend
To take you out of this place
Someone you could lend a hand
In return for grace

It's a beautiful day
Sky falls, you feel like
It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away

You're on the road
But you've got no destination
You're in the mud
In the maze of her imagination

You're lovin' this town
Even if that doesn't ring true
You've been all over
And it's been all over you

It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away
It's a beautiful day

Touch me
Take me to that other place
Teach me
I know I'm not a hopeless case

See the world in green and blue
See China right in front of you
See the canyons broken by cloud
See the tuna fleets clearing the sea out
See the Bedouin fires at night
See the oil fields at first light
And see the bird with a leaf in her mouth
After the flood all the colors came out

It was a beautiful day
Don't let it get away
Beautiful day

Touch me
Take me to that other place
Reach me
I know I'm not a hopeless case

What you don't have you don't need it now
What you don't know you can feel it somehow
What you don't have you don't need it now
Don't need it now
Was a beautiful day

The most annoying thing about U2 may be that their best music is informed by Bono's pretensions/white savior complex. This song is nearly completely devoid of that, and it's awful, It's also quite amazing they made this song in 2000, when U2 was a long established institution. It feels like the work of some mediocre up and coming band that has yet to find its own sound and vision. Even the accompanying clip is bland and ugly as hell.  Luckily Bono cannot help but add some seemingly meaningful lyrics signifying nothing but his awareness that there is some stuff happening in Asia, possibly Iran. After all, China is in front of it, and it has oil fields. So I linked the song to a movie about driving around Iran. 

The Movie: Taste of Cherry (Ta'm e guilass) (Abbas Kiarostami, 1997)

Taste of Cherry won the Golden Palm in 1997. The Cannes jury that year was presided by French actress Isabelle Adjani, but Kiarostami may have profited most from Mike Leigh's presence. Leigh is of course famous for not really writing screenplays but, coming up with a broad outline/idea and fleshing it out with his actors while making the film. After seeing Taste of Cherry I wasn't surprised to learn Kiarostami works in a very similar way. I think Leigh is more successful; his approach does produce coherent, engaging stories. Kiarostami's does not (at least not here, I have not seen his other films), and many critics, most famously Roger Ebert, took issue with all the praise this film has gotten. In Cannes Taste of Cherry competed with, among others, L.A. Confidential and The Sweet Hereafter, two films that are unquestionably better than it. Nevertheless I think there is a lot of value to be found in this film, an I do not think it's at all bad.

It's nice to see a film about an existentially depressed Iranian. We are getting more and more nuanced portrayals of the Middle East. Hollywood is slowly learning to present the region in less stereotypical way, and more importantly films made in the region are increasingly reaching the west. Even so, most of the characters we meet in these films are entirely presented in the context of the turmoil in the region, or even defined by it. Moreover, the characters/plots are often used to teach us something about the historical, religious and/or political complexities in the region, and to make us understand these societies better. This approach certainly can produce some great films, look at Marjane Satrapi, but it doesn't always allow room for much individuality. Watching Taste of Cherry, you will not learn anything very significant about Iran. It's merely about Mr. Badii (Homayoun Ershadi) battling his own personal demons. He is depressed and wants to commit suicide. He has already dug a grave, and now he is looking for someone to bury him. I would have preferred if Mr. Badii was provided with even a little bit of a backstory, but I can see why Kiarostami decided not to do this. Mr. Badii is now free from any burden of representation.

I also wish the film was more dynamic. This is very much a slow art film. It mostly consists of Mr. Badii driving around a large construction site in Teheran, and having philosophical conversations with the people he picks up. It reminded me to some extent of Richard Linklater's Slacker, but there the conversations were both 'deeper' and more playful. Mr. Badii's co-passengers try to dissuade him from suicide and sometimes do so with rather cliche arguments. 'Won't you miss the taste of cherries'? I did find it interesting that none of the people he meets are ethnic Iranians. The first is a Kurd, the second is from Afghanistan, and the third is from Turkey. Moreover I really liked the way this film is shot. For example, when we follow the conversations in the car, we hardly ever see passengers in the same shot, The camera always focuses on one side of the car, showing us not only the person inside, but also the outer world the car is passing. As the car is driving around a construction site, we are constantly aware of people moving around, trucks delivering goods, work being done, etc. This allows for some really wonderful, fantastically choreographed, shots. It's also an effective way to visualize Mr. Badii's issues. Mr. Badii is stuck in a monotonous loop, while outside life goes on. Lastly, I don't know why Kiarostami choose to end this film the way he did and I think any interpretation of it is irrelevant and would give Kiarostami too much credit. Nevertheless it was my favorite part of the film, and I found it oddly moving.

120. Sebastian &...

Lyrics

Radiate simply the candle is burning so low for me 
Generate me limply can't seem to place your name cherie 
To rearrange all these thoughts in a moment is suicide 
Come to a strange place we'll talk over old times we never smile 


Sebastian 
Somebody called me Sebastian 
Work out a rhyme - toss me the time - lay me you're mine 
We all know, oh yeah 

Your Persian eyes sparkle your lips ruby blue never speak a sound 
And you oh so gay with Parisian demands you can run around 
Your view of society screws up my mind like you'll never know 
Lead me away come inside see my mind in kaleidoscope

Somebody called me Sebastian 
Somebody called me Sebastian 
Dance on my heart - laugh swoop and dart - la-di-di-da 
Now we all know you, yeah 

La-di-di-da .



It's been a long time since I've seen Cruel Intentions. I liked it enough to remember that Ryan Phillippe's character was called Sebastian Valmont. As Cruel Intentions is based on the novel/play Les liaisons dangereux I thought Valmont's name in there really was Sebastian. It turns out that's not the case. Nevertheless connecting Cockney Rebel's song to a story about sex, power and manipulation in Parisian aristocracy isn't that far-fetched. As for the song itself, I don't actually remember hearing it before and I am mostly amused that this is not at all the kind of song you'd expect to hear from a band called Cockney Rebel.  

The Movie: Dangerous Liaisons (Stephen Frears, 1988)

I wish all actors could enjoy their job half as much as John Malkovich enjoys playing Vicomte de Valmont here. In the space of two years both Stephen Frears and Milos Forman made a film based on this story. I have not seen Forman's film, Valmont, but there the 'vicomte' is played by Colin Firth. I think Firth is a very good actor, but I cannot imagine him being as convincing in the role as Malkovich is. Even if Forman's intentions are different from Frears' it seems to me it's hard to escape Valmont's sleazy intelligence. Valmont is a master manipulator, because he is both ruthless and more intelligent than anyone else in the film, at least until a certain point. These characteristics don't seem to play to Firth's strengths as an actor, at least not as I know him. I haven't seen any Firth film from before Bridget Jones' Diary. 

Valmont's characteristics of course do play to Malkovich's strengths as an actor.. Watching this film, I though playing Valmont fits Malkovich better than even playing himself in Being John Malkovich. It also helps that he clearly loves the dialogue he's been given. There are moments when you can see Malkovich gleefully anticipating his next line, and knowing that he will absolutely nail it. As Valmont is an arrogantly confident man, who is aware of, and takes pleasure, in his arrogant confidence, this may be the best way to portray him. Glenn Close should not be discounted though. As Valmont's lover/rival Marquise de Merteuil she is every bit Malkovich's equal. Unfortunately that cannot be said about Michelle Pfeiffer, playing Madame de Tourvel, the latest victim of Valmont's manipulations. Pfeiffer should not play fragile, prudish damsels in distress, but the opposite of that. She is not bad, but it kind of feels like a waste of her talent.

I wouldn't say Dangerous Liaisons is a great film, but I enjoyed every second of it, not just because of Malkovich and Close. I like that its screenplay (earning Christopher Hampton an Oscar) doesn't feel the need to conceal anything from the audience. Too often a film like this will start out by presenting Valmont and de Merteuil as virtuous characters, only to 'surprise' the audience by revealing their depravity later on. Here these characters are right away presented as shameless manipulators, who manipulate not so much for material, but for emotional gain. Their games are basically an expression of their love and respect for each other. The performative aspects of these games are very much foregrounded, right from the opening scene, which crosscuts between Valmont and de Merteuil dressing up, and putting on wigs and make-up. It reminds a bit of the way sports films present their heroes preparing for the game. Only Dangerous Liaisons is not actually interested in the outcome of the game, just in the way it's played. At least until, near the end of the film, Valmont does actually fall in love with Madame de Tourvel.  

  

119. Als Ze Er Niet Is &...

Lyrics

tien tegen een dat ik mijn mond hou 

(Ten to one, I'll keep my mouth shut)
als ik je weer zie 

(When I see you again)
ik ken mezelf zo onderhand

(I know myself by now) 
een prater ben ik niet 

(I am not a talker)
hoe was het hier 

(How was het here)
zal je vragen 

(You'll ask)
en ik zal zeggen

(And I'l say) 
goed 

(Fine)
maar ik zeg je niet wat ik nu denk 

(But I don't tell you what I am thinking now)
dat ik je eigenlijk zeggen moet 

(That what I actually should tell you)

een man weet niet wat hij mist 

(A man doesn't know what he is missing)
weet niet wat hij mist 

(Doesn't know what he is missing)
weet niet wat hij mist 

(Doesn't know what he is missing)
een man weet niet wat hij mist 

(A man doesn't know what he's missing)
maar als ze er niet is 

(But only when she's not there)
als ze er niet is 

(Only when she's not there)
weet een man pas wat hij mist

(Does a man know what he's missing) 

jij praat honderduit over hoe het was 

(You talk nineteen to the dozen)
over hoe je het hebt gehad 

(About how you were doing)
en misschien als ik op dreef ben 

(And maybe, when I am on a roll)
zeg ik een keertje schat 

(I say darling once)
dan vraag je mij 

(Then you'll ask me)
hoe was het bij jou

(How was your life) 
hooguit zeg ik dan 

(At the most I'll say)
stil 

(Quiet)
en ik zeg je weer niet wat ik nu denk 

(And again, I don't tell you what I am thinking right now)
dat ik je eindelijk zeggen wil 
(That what I actually want to say to you)

een man weet niet wat hij mist 

(A man doesn't know what he is missing)
weet niet wat hij mist 

(Doesn't know what he is missing)
weet niet wat hij mist 

(Doesn't know what he is missing)
een man weet niet wat hij mist 

(A man doesn't know what he's missing)
maar als ze er niet is 

(But only when she's not there)
als ze er niet is 

(Only when she's not there)
weet een man pas wat hij mist

(Does a man know what he's missing) 

pas nu je hier niet bent 

(Only now, when you are not here)
nu voel ik het in mij 

(Now do I feel it inside me)
nu je mij niet hoort 

(Now you don't hear me)
voel ik het woord voor woord

(I feel it word for word) 
voor woord 

(For word)

een man weet niet wat hij mist 

(A man doesn't know what he is missing)
weet niet wat hij mist 

(Doesn't know what he is missing)
weet niet wat hij mist 

(Doesn't know what he is missing)
een man weet niet wat hij mist 

(A man doesn't know what he's missing)
maar als ze er niet is 

(But only when she's not there)
als ze er niet is 

(Only when she's not there)
weet een man pas wat hij mist

(Does a man know what he's missing) 

This is a fine song, though I don't like the sudden switch into present tense at the end of the first and third verse. I don't think it's poetic freedom, just sloppy writing. In any case I've linked this song to one of my favorite films, about a man regretfully looking back at his failed relationship. Although not being able to talk has never been a problem for Woody Allen.

The Movie: Annie Hall (Woody Allen, 1977)

Well, the timing of this just couldn't have been better. Woody Allen just had another of his, let's say, unfortunate interviews in which he credits himself in an incredibly chauvinistic and Orientalist way for the education and empowerment of his wife. In that same interviews he claims to admire what is happening in television, but has not seen either Mad Men or Breaking Bad. He has seen, and likes, Hannah Montana though, which is at the very least not a smart thing to admit if you are Woody Allen. It's quite easy to understand why Woody Allen is increasingly disliked, and why people are finding it harder and harder watch his films as they can't separate the art from the artist.

I was going to address this even before the interview was published, but I do think Woody Allen's art can be separated from the man. And I think Annie Hall makes a good case for this. I think Woody Allen's real life persona is utter bullshit. He presents himself as this insecure, existentially pessimistic, uncool, old-fashioned man, who doesn't really care about all the attention. In short, he presents himself as a character from his films. I have read quite a lot of interviews with Woody Allen, and never believed there is much truth in that self-characterization. He has a set of cliches which he knows exactly how to deploy to pander to journalists, and dodge questions he finds uncomfortable or boring. I think he is a much more well-adjusted, (self)confident person than he presents himself, who knows exactly what he is doing. Of course, this makes his behavior and statements such as those in the aforementioned interview even more inexcusable.

I genuinely think few things make this more clear than Annie Hall. Alvy Singer (Woody Allen's character here) would not be able to make this film. For him Anjelica Huston and Jack Nicholson are unattainable gods, only accessible if you belong to the fancy, flashy crowd of record producer Tony Lacey. Tony Lacey, by the way, is portrayed here by Paul Simon. Apart from him, Annie Hall has cameos by Jeff Goldblum, Shelley Duvall, Christopher Walken, Truman Capote, and, of course, Marshall McLuhan. Diane Keaton is so fantastic and so convincing as Annie Hall, you forget she was not some plucky upstart in 1977. She had played Al Pacino's/Michael Corleone's lover in The Godfather films. So yeah, Annie Hall does not make a very convincing argument for the fact that Woody Allen an insecure outsider, or felt like one. He was as much as Jack Nicholson part of the in crowd.

Apart from that, Annie Hall is quite simply one of the coolest films ever made. Sure, it is filled with references to high culture and existentialist philosophy, and there is indeed a great underlying sadness to the story. The film is as much fantasy of the perfect romance, as it is a deconstruction of that fantasy. That's all true, and adds to the film's greatness. But before all that, Annie Hall (both the film and the character) is cool as hell. And it's at all times clear that this is a film made by an extremely confident filmmaker who is putting on a show, knows it, and wants us to know it. Woody Allen is here dropping the mic in every other scene. When I first saw it I hardly knew who Fellini was, and I knew even less about McLuhan. Nevertheless, I was in awe by the sheer chutzpah of that theater scene. It's utterly clear that it is filmed by a man who doesn't give a damn about film conventions, who feels completely free to do whatever he wants.

There are countless other similar scenes in Annie Hall. The scenes where past and present collide, allowing Annie, Rob (Tony Roberts) and Alvy to have a conversation through time with Alvy's aunt; The scene where Allen uses split-screen to allow Annie's family and Alvy's family to interact with each other despite being in completely different places; Allen's flashback to his school days, giving children the chance to speak as adults; Christopher Walken's absurd monologue, probably one of the first times someone discovered that just letting Walken go off on a tangent is a sound strategy for your film;The first scene between Tony and Alvy where we hear them talk, but initially have no idea where the sound is coming from. We merely see an outstretched street, with far away two people standing beneath a tree. We assume these are Tony and Alvy, until we see them walking and talking down the street; The scene in which Alvy and Annie's real thoughts are subtitled while they are talking to each other, and falling in love in the process; Annie's spirit literally leaving her body during sex; Annie's deadpan monologue about her dead uncle.

There are more, but that's enough. For now, let's end by noting that this is not merely Woody Allen's film. Diane Keaton here gives one of the best performances in film history, I think. Apart from the fact that her comic timing is perfect, this may be the most convincing portrayal ever of a shy, slightly naive person, becoming  more confident, without changing their personality.  And although Allen sometimes adopts the same chauvinistic attitude as in the aforementioned interview, Keaton never lets Annie Hall lose her agency. She makes clear that she is always in charge of her life, and that she is only with Alvy, because she likes him.

118. Harder dan Ik Hebben Kan &...

Lyrics

Je buien maken vlekken

(Your temper tantrums)
Op mijn hagelwit humeur

(Blacken my great mood)
Ik heb m'n handen op je heupen

(My hands are on your hips)
Maar m'n hoofd is bij de deur

(But my head is at the door)

Ze zeggen dat het went

(They say you get used to it)
Ik heb het geprobeerd

(I've tried)
Maar hoe ik het ook wend of keer

(But no matter how I look at it)
M'n huis beschermt niet meer

(My house protects no more)

Het regent harder dan ik hebben kan

(It rains harder than I can handle)
Harder dan ik drinken kan

(Harder than I can drink)
Het regent harder dan de grond aankan

(It rains harder than the soil can handle)
Harder dan ik hebben kan

(Harder than I can handle)

Je buien zijn de wolken

(Your temper tantrums are the clouds)
Aan mijn hemelsblauw humeur

(Ruining my good mood)
Ik heb m'n handen op je heupen

(My hands are on your hips)
Maar m'n hoofd is bij de deur
(But my head is at the door)

Je ogen blijven grijs

(Your eyes remain grey)
Ontkennen elke kleur

(Deny every color)
Het is alsof hier niemand woont
(It's like no one is living here)

Alsof er niets gebeurt

(Like nothing is happening)

Het regent harder dan ik hebben kan

(It rains harder than I can handle)
Harder dan ik drinken kan

(Harder than I can drink)
Het regent harder dan de grond aankan

(It rains harder than the soil can handle)
Harder dan ik hebben kan

(Harder than I can handle)

Je buien zijn te donker

(Your temper tantrums are too dark)
Voor mijn hemelsblauw humeur

(For my good mood)
Want mijn hoofd is in de wolken

(Because my head is in the clouds)
En m'n hand al bij de deur

(And my head is at the door)

Het regent harder dan ik hebben kan

(It rains harder than I can handle)
Harder dan ik drinken kan

(Harder than I can drink)
Het regent harder dan de grond aankan

(It rains harder than the soil can handle)
Harder dan ik hebben kan

(Harder than I can handle)

Het regent harder dan ik hebben kan

(It rains harder than I can handle)
Harder dan ik drinken kan

(Harder than I can drink)
Het regent harder dan de grond aankan

(It rains harder than the soil can handle)
Harder dan ik hebben kan

(Harder than I can handle)

These lyrics are quite uncomfortable to say the least. I chose to link this song to a movie about a husband who has to take care for his mentally ill wife. Luckily the movie has more empathy for the sufferer than this song. Having said that, one could argue that my interpretation of this song is more sexist than the song itself. The song is written and sung by a man, but its lyrics are gender-neutral. It would not have been entirely wrong to link the song to a movie about woman who is abused by her husband.

The Movie: A Woman Under the Influence (John Cassavetes, 1974)

It's easy to see why Nick Longhetti (Peter Falk) loves his wife Mabel (Gena Rowlands). You can imagine that many years ago, Mabel was the most popular girl on the block, habging around in blue collar bars, a free spirit who sang and danced in front of everyone. Construction worker Nick was the lucky one for for who she fell.  Now years later, it's clear that things weren't as rosy as they seemed back then. Mabel's behavior is the result of a mental illness, and nobody in this film is prepared for that.

I have written often that I am not really a fan of overtly realist modes of film making. I don't much care about documentary/fly on the wall aesthetics in narrative films. I often find them purposeless, as I don't think it's a film's job to present reality as it is. Moreover, I think film is an inherently subjective medium, and realist aesthetics are often used to present whatever is being shown as objective, as an unfiltered reality. I don't think that Cassavetes is doing that here, and the purpose of his aesthetic is very well clear. It allows him to focus fully on the actors, and in doing so allows them to portray their characters very vividly. They can now act in a theatrical way, and go over the top while their characters remain grounded in reality. This especially works very well for Gena Rowlands, who gives a fantastically unrestrained performance. She creates an often frightening character who even in her saner moments seems completely out of it. Even when she seems aware of the reality of the situation, it's not clear whether she grasps truly what is going on.    

That uncertainty is I think the greatest strength of A Woman Under the Influence.  There have been many films made about mentally ill, insane people. Very often these characters are rich, or members of the higher class. They are professors, or their sons, actors, businessmen, doctors, etc. And if they are not, the film makers are cultured, highly educated people. They know the problems their characters are facing, and try to make them understandable for the audience. I don't entirely love A Woman Under the Influence, but this is a film that is never more intelligent than its characters. Nick is completely out of his depth here; he has no idea how to deal with his wife's insanity. In fact, nobody around Mabel knows, least of all herself. And director John Cassavetes, at all times, remains on their level.

This is the first time I have seen this film, or any Cassavetes film for that matter. I had of course heard about it, and its themes. Now that I've seen it I think that any critic who tries to explain the reasons for Mabel's insanity is doing the film a huge disservice. There is a reason why Cassavetes doesn't even show a glimpse of Mabel's stay in the mental hospital.  A Woman Under the Influence declines to offer any explanation for what's bothering Mabel, and why. It is entirely in the dark about it. It mirrors its characters confusion and their utter despair in not knowing how to deal with this situation. In doing so, the film also shows why other films don't take this approach. This is a film that's 2,5 hours of yelling, quarreling and suffering without much progress of any kind (thematic, narrative, stylistic). Cassavetes is relentless. He never changes his tone, never allows any room for breath. It can sometimes be enormously frustrating to watch, as Cassavetes repeats the same beats and points a bit too often for my taste. I also wish he'd offer a window into what Mabel is fighting for. What kind of woman would she be if she were sane? What are her desires and values? How does she actually want to behave? I would have found the film more interesting if it gave at least some answers to these questions. I am aware though that declining to do so, may be the point, and that the film's actual representation of Mabel may be a more realistic depiction of madness.

117. De Vondeling van Ameland &...

Lyrics

Op het strand van Ameland

(On the beach of Ameland)
was hij als zuigling aangespoeld

(He washed up as an infant)
overboord gegooid

(Thrown overboard)
op een reddingsboei gebonden

(Bound on a buoy)
hij had zich op de golven

(On the waves he felt)
als in de baarmoeder gevoeld

(As in the womb)
en schreeuwde tot hij

(And he screamed)
door een jutter werd gevonden

(Until a beachcomber found him)

Ameland sprak schande van de jutter

(Ameland deemed the beachcomber a disgrace)
een zonderling die leefde van de wind

(A quaint living of the wind)
die al de raarste dingen had gevonden

(Who had already found the weirdest things)
hoe kwam die jutter nu weer aan dat kind

(How did that beachcomber come across that child)
als hij er daags op uitging om te jutten

(Every day when he went to comb the beach)
moest de vondeling altijd met hem mee

(The foundling had to join him)
en toen die na een jaar begon te praten

(And when he started speaking after a year)
was zijn eerste woordje: zee

(His first word was: sea)

Op het strand van Ameland

(On the beach of Ameland)
speelde de kleuter jarenlang

(The toddler played for years)
de jutter was zijn meester

(The beachcomber was his teacher)
die hem wijze lessen leerde

(He taught him wise lessons)
hij stond wijdbeens in het zand

(He stood on the sand, his legs wide open)
was voor de woeste zee niet bang

(Wasn't afraid of the furious sea)
en schreeuwde net zo lang

(And screamed until)
tot de vloed zich keerde

(The tide retreated)

Ameland sprak schande van de kleuter

(Ameland deemed the toddler a disgrace)
de vondeling die schreeuwde als de wind

(The foundling screaming like the wind)
hoe was het in vredesnaam toch mogelijk

(For God's sake, how was it possible)
dat de zee zich terugtrok voor een kind

(For the sea to retrat for a child)
wat hij riep zou niemand kunnen zeggen

(Nobody could say what he was yelling)
dat was uit de verte moeilijk te verstaan

(That was hard to understand from a distance)
en toen ze het de jutter vroegen zei die

(And when they asked the beachcomber, he said)
volgens mij roept hij: ik kom eraan.

(I believe he is yelling: "I am coming)

Ik kom eraan ik kom eraan

(I am coming, I am coming)
zee wind zon oceaan

(Sea, wind, sun, ocean)
ik kom eraan

(I am coming)

Op het strand van Ameland

(On the Ameland beach)
stond hij als knaap in de avondzon

(He stood as a boy in the evening sun)
hij zei geen woord

(He didn't say a word)
begon zich langzaam uit te kleden

(He started to slowly undress)
de vloed kwam hem tegemoet

(The tide was coming his way
hij zag alleen de horizon

(He only saw the horizon)
nog eenmaal draaide hij zich om

(Turned around once more)
liep toen de zee in

(And walked into the sea)

Ameland sprak schande van de jongen

(Ameland deemed the boy a disgrace)
die naakte zonderlinge vondeling

(That naked, quaint foundling)
men had zich boven op het duin verzameld

(People gathered up on the dune)
omdat men voelde dat er iets gebeuren ging

(Becuase they felt something was about to happen)
en toen begon hij plotseling te schreeuwen

(And then suddenly he started screaming)
zo hard dat het tot aan de duinen klonk

(So loud they could hear it at the dunes)
nog even zagen ze hem op het water lopen

(They saw him walk on water)
voor hij in de diepte zakte en verdronk

(Just before he drowned in the deep sea)

Ik kom eraan ik kom eraan

(I am coming, I am coming)
zee wind zon oceaan

(Sea, wind, son, ocean)
ik kom eraan

(I am coming)
Ik kom eraan

(I am coming)

It's obviously an indictment of the Dutch film industry that I had to link this song to an Irish film. It's not very surprising though. This is a laudable attempt of Boudewijn de Groot, (and cabaret performer Freek de Jonge, who wrote the lyrics) to create a Dutch folk tale. That is not a genre that has ever been very popular in Dutch culture. It's a bit of a shame. As this song shows the Netherlands' relationship with water provides plenty of opportunities to tell stories in this vein. I actually think this song is better than the movie I am about to discuss. 

The Movie: The Secret of Roan Inish (John Sayles, 1994)

This is one of the first films I saw in the cinema. It's definitely the first 'arthouse' film I've seen. I don't remember why, but in elementary school, we went on a class trip to see this film. I think I liked it a lot; I probably wouldn't have remembered it otherwise. I also probably wouldn't have remembered it if I saw it in high school. This is very much a film for young children. This does mean that I did not care that much about the film this time around, but this is a good thing. There are way too few good directors making films aimed at young kids. Pixar is sometimes criticized for not really making films for children. I think those critics do have a point. Having said that, I'd much rather re-watch Up than The Secret of Roan Inish (I'd also much rather re-watch The Looney Tunes or Tom & Jerry, than watch a Pixar film, but that's a topic for another post. For now, let's just say that films about robots and rats with feelings existed long before Pixar).

What I like most about the film is its relaxed, leisurely pace. It is no rush to get anywhere, and the first hour is mostly an excuse to tell Irish folk stories. These are literally the kinds of stories a grandfather tells to his granddaughter. They are part family history, part Irish history, but above all they are stories about the power of the sea, and the love for it. Fiona's (Jeni Courtney) grandparents used to live on the island of Roan Inish, close to the seals and the water. The war - the film is set in 1946 - and the financial problems forced them to move. Moreover, an accident caused Fiona's infant brother to disappear, making it emotionally hard for the elders to return to the island. They do long for it though, it's clear from the way they talk about it. I enjoyed some of these stories, but I have never cared much about mythical creatures. Unfortunately the key story here is about Selkies. A Selkie is half seal, half man, and the stories tell that the people of Roan Inish are their descendants. And it is said that those with dark hair still have Selkie blood in them. For that reason they are great seamen, able to navigate the waters with whatever means they have at their disposal, even an infant crib. Indeed, Fiona's infant brother was a 'darkie'. Could it be that he still lives, and is roaming around on Roan Inish?   

John Sayles tells this story with utter sincerity. He deserves a lot of credit for that, as well as for the fact that he doesn't care at all to make this story contemporary relevant. In fact, I'd say it's so old-fashioned that if the film had actually been made in 1946, it would have to be set around 1890-1900. In a couple of scenes characters speak archaic Gaelic, and you get the feeling that resisting the urge to tell the entire film like that took the film makers a lot of willpower. Of course that would made it less suitable for children, both those in the audience, and those acting. 

This is the only John Sayles film I have seen until now. I hope to see more of him, He seems like a director who would be right up my alley. In this film, it's quite interesting that he often films from a child's height. And the scene where we first learn of Roan Inish, is quite wonderfully conceived as well. Fiona's granddad points toward the horizon and tells her that the island is right of a light tower, and that only true descendants of the island can see it at the first try. Sayles than cuts to what Fiona and her granddad are watching. It's mostly water; far away on the horizon there are some fuzzy islands that are hard to discern, and I definitely could not see a light tower. Yet Fiona does see the light tower and the island. She is special, we in the audience are not.