Comwayon A Disappointing Continuation

Cleveronix A different way of telling a story

Rio Hayward All of these films share one commonality, that being a kind of emotional center that humanizes a cast of monsters.

Stephanie There is, somehow, an interesting story here, as well as some good acting. There are also some good scenes

shoobe01-1 Yup, it's another Antonioni. Should have learned my lesson after Zabriskie Point but I guess I keep expecting a color-filled Blow Up. I'd go to 3-4 stars for this film with just Monica Vitti walking around jarring industrial landscapes. Carlo Di Palma does a great job filming, but only when outdoors, and more than about 4 feet away. Closeups and small interiors feel TV like, and horribly stifled. Several times I felt we were half a step from a telenovela. But mostly, I didn't even care what they said. The story is lacking, or stupid, or poorly done, or pointless. I don't care about anyone in the film, at all. I so don't care about the story I find it hard to evaluate it. Oh, and Richard Harris is a native of Trieste? Why? What is this silliness? Not a thing he did from talking about how out of place he is in the world to kicking straw in the yard felt remotely real.

semery56 Antonioni's Red Desert asks us to consider the accommodations and adaptations of the newly successful Italian upper middle class to the changing social, economic and environmental conditions of post-World War II industrialization. More particularly, this important film focuses on the insecurities and honest fears of the middle-aged Giuliana, absorbingly portrayed by Monica Vitti, as she struggles with her own imbalances in the face of a rather sterile marital relationship, shifting social mores and a disturbing and perhaps unhealthy industrial landscape. But the emotionally detached and borderline amoral actions of the supporting players, limited in scope by Antonioni's and Tonino Guerra's script, are also significant to the theme. It is a film that asks how we examine, perceive and choose to act in the world around us each and every day as technology and economic "progress" inexorably make life more complex and disruptive, even as the opportunities for material experiences and goods - for good or ill - increase. Giuliana's mental instability predates the start of the film. A car accident of uncertain causation and her recovery - or lack thereof - in the ensuing hospital stay is unveiled early in the film for context. But Giuliana is clearly not well. She is rightly fearful of the daunting (but geometrically interesting and colorful) industrial structures and the horrifying waste contaminants that are despoiling the land, water and air near the home she shares with industrial manager husband Ugo (Carlo Chionetti) and son Valerio. Ugo, while concerned, appears resolved to maintaining a sort of status quo disequilibrium that he thinks may be manageable. Meanwhile, an industrial entrepreneur, Corrado Zeller (a well-dubbed Richard Harris), acquainted with Ugo, enters the scene, wanting to hire labor for a venture in Patagonia that he is pursuing with half- hearted intensity. He soon begins to shadow Giuliana - and she him - in plain sight during Ugo's workday. These scenes tend to drag a bit as Corrado's undisguised but not physically aggressive pursuit of her reveals a man of surprisingly low self-esteem and an admitted lack of understanding of life. Meanwhile, his interest in her does not assuage her desire for more security and self-awareness in a world she cannot seem to grasp. As their attentions to one another increase - but only slightly, through most of the film - Giuliana's emotional comfort does not progress apace. In fact, the scenes become more dominated by fog and the clouded movement of large, nondescript ships as her connection to a coherent universe continues to slip away. Her confusion is only increased by this strangely kind and attractive figure who, while appearing to empathize with some of her fears, ultimately offers no true solution to her discomfort. In fact, we are left believing that Corrado's actions were more facade than truth, and Antonioni subtly suggests that Giuliana's realization of that fact leads her to a more honest and healthy vision of the odd world she inhabits. One might conclude that she has struggled, and come to an adaptation that might work for her. We are left hopeful.The minor characters in the film, and for purposes of this argument I would include Corrado and Ugo, despite moments of seeming sincerity, are depicted as shallow and accommodative. They are not adapting to the contradictions of modernity, but rather letting their moral principles weaken in the face of the acceptability of money as a standard of righteousness. Antonioni illustrates this through a brilliant scene in a waterfront party shack that is owned by one of Ugo's associates. The flimsy walls are painted in bright colors in this tiny hovel, a metaphor for the shallow excitement and weak moral base that substitutes for honest human companionship in what appears to be a tentatively-engaged bourgeois partner share. Giuliana at least realizes that adaptation to this rapidly changing, increasingly complex and difficultly realized world demands soul-searching and discomforting effort. The others have merely acquiesced to a life devoid of meaning.Antonioni is saying that scientific, technological and most significantly material economic progress, while attractive in some ways - and allegorically represented by the cinematography of Carlo Di Palma, which brilliantly pervades this film - will inexorably present challenges to the human desire to find honest and caring companionship when relationships and a sense of place are fluid., It will push us to come to grips with and ameliorate the destructive aspects of that material progress. A rise in mental instability and addictive or morally suspect behavior may well be a nasty companion to these pressures and challenges. This film, made in 1964, presents a view of modern life that still resonates. View it more than once, and gain more appreciation on each occasion for the power of film to inform our lives.

Jackson Booth-Millard Directed by Michelangelo Antonioni (L'Avventura, L'Eclisse, Blowup), this film came to my knowledge through the book 100 Movies You Must See Before You Die, I was surprised to see it only rated two stars out of five by critics, but I was still going to see why it was listed. Basically in cold, rainy and foggy Ravenna, Italy is a petrochemical plant, the factory is creating wastage that pollutes local lakes, the plant manager is Ugo (Carlo Chionetti), who is married to housewife Giuliana (L'Avventura's Monica Vitti), she has been hiding that following an auto accident she has become mentally ill. Corrado Zeller (Richard Harris) is a visiting business associate wanting to recruit workers for an industrial operation in Patagonia, Argentina, he is attracted to Giuliana, she one day accompanies him and indirectly reveals details of her mental state, including dreams of sinking and drowning, and she seems lost and isolated in moments. Giuliana, Ugo, and Corrado spend a weekend together with couple Max (Aldo Grotti) and Linda (Xenia Valderi), and also Emilia (Rita Renoir) at a small riverside shack at Porto Corsini where they engage in small talk, jokes, role-play and innuendo, Giuliana and Corrado have grown closer during this time, but the company are interrupted by the arrival of a mysterious ship docking directly outside, it is quarantined due to an infectious disease, Giuliana panics and rushes off. Later Ugo leaves on a business trip, Giuliana spends more time with Corrado and reveals more about her anxieties, then she finds that all the sudden her son (Valerio Bartoleschi) has become paralysed from the waist down, she tries to comfort him, she is shocked as her son was only pretending, seeing this as a cruel thing to do her loneliness and isolation returns. Giuliana wanting to end her inner turmoil goes to Corrado's apartment, he tries to force his affections on her, first resisting she accepts them, they make love, but this does nothing to help her isolation, the next day she goes to the docks and goes to her lowest state, and later on walking with her son, he notices the toxic poisonous yellow smoke emissions, Giuliana reassures him birds have learnt to avoid it. Also starring Lili Rheims as Telescope operator's wife and Giuliano Missirini as Radio telescope operator. To be honest, I can agree with critics, it is not exactly the most compelling film, it is good to see British actor Harris speaking a foreign language, the woman trying to survive the modern world is interesting enough to an extent, and the power plant threat is alright, it may have good visuals, but overall its a relatively dull drama. Adequate!

chaos-rampant I love Antonioni for these flickering realities. In Blowup he gave us memory as the chimera of the mind, the formation of human suffering. Going backwards to The Red Desert, I find that the mind hasn't been transcended yet, nonetheless we get a beautiful paradigm on the acceptance of that suffering as a fundamental condition of life. This is not an ultimate reality, but at least it's a first awareness of the appearance of suffering.We have the fragile, erratic, woman with the fractured soul as main character here, learning to be whole again. Only Bergman had done this before, but Through a Glass Darkly is literary and it pales when we see it next to the power of Antonioni's cinema. People like Polanski and Lynch would go on to make similar films with varying degrees of insanity permitted by surreal devices, moving them inside the fracture, the brilliance here is how the movie hops in and out of it, swapping and shaping realities.This is true first in the marvellous embedded story the mother narrates to her little boy, we see this unfold in her mind's eye (not the boy's). The island world there is peaceful and contained, sufficient and whole unto itself. Now and then mystery beckons and the girl in the story swims out to it, but she doesn't lose heart when it eludes her. It's in the nature of things to elude us. I like how these mysteries are vaguely poetic, a saiboat and an unseen song, as opposed to the violent omens encountered in David Lynch.I discover this again in the bedroom scene where Corrado coerces a shaken Guiliana into sex, a masterstroke by Antonioni because it's an uncomfortable coupling to see, yet not vulgar or perverse. Guiliana submits to the sexual advances, and for a moment the room turns inexplicably pink, like the sand in the island of her dreams. The wonderful ambiguity of this is that it's never apparent whether the fantasy is where she flees for safety or if she permits sex in order to reach it. But that flight into imagination lasts only for a while and does not change the world, the bedroom is still the same.I love how, with hardly any consideration or concession made to how a story ought to be explained, Antonioni sketches in a bleak barren landscape that serves as projection of tormented minds the traces of human souls aching for connection, seeking a unity of bodies that soothes in the yawning nothingness of the universe. He does not wait for a god to make his presence felt or perceive the defeaning silence as proof of damnation, but rather ushers his characters on a path towards self awareness.Guiliana's torment then begins with her false perception of the world. When she hears a scream that her husband didn't, she's shaken, desperate to prove it to herself, unsure if she did hear a scream after all. Outside the cabin, the mist hides her company from her eyes and she despairs more. In the mind's fixation to a world we think should be unchanging and always grasped, the world itself begins to fade.When they finally separate, Guiliana pushing him out because now she knows he can't help her, knowing also that the courage must come from inside and that she must not cling to things or people to get through the day, Corrado leaving with hardly a word, knowing at the same time that he can't help her either, it's like a firework of cinema.The final scene, where Guiliana explains to her son about the poisonous yellow smoke and how the birds have learned not to fly there, could be saying too much about her newfound awareness because we can infer it from the scene with the Turkish sailor, but I like how Antonioni bottles the sentiment in a gentle metaphor. As humans we may be swimming alone in a sea of suffering, but we can learn to tranquil the hand that makes it navigable.The one touch I have a hard time swallowing, is that Antonioni doesn't trust us to understand who the "girl in the hospital" was, making Monica Vitti tell us. Perhaps the film is enough of a drifting haze as it is and he wanted to drop an anchor there, to make at least something certain.It's the acceptance of suffering as part of life that matters here for me, how Antonioni makes cinema with it is only the masterstroke. As with films he made later, his cinema is spiritually important to me because conceptual understanding of ideas he presents or the appreciation of the visual vocabulary, which is rich in color and texture like few directors managed, cannot substitute for the final, tangible, experience of living through it all.