paulo-m-a-gominhas

Throughout the ages, humanity has always seen the future with hope. With all our mistakes, errors, and vices, a deep belief in the attainment of some sort of utopia always lingers on, reflected on ideas about the limitless of knowledge. Amidst all the chaos and destruction of the present, we seek refuge in a tale of "progress" and "communion", wherein everyone will transcend the current limitations and achieve a state of perfection. In all of this, one can discern the presence of a pressuposition that history moves in a linear way, towards an end goal, as if eventually the utopia will be reached. But is such pressuposition correct? Are we in a constant state of enhancement, or is it that our "selves" are in their roots divided, corrupted, hopeless?

In what is essentially Zulawski's magnum opus, despite never being entirely finished, "On the Silver Globe" tells the tale of a group of astronauts that crash in another planet, in hopes of finding an alternative to their dying planet. In the process however, we see them going back to an almost primitive state, where instinct reigns supreme, and where the law of the strongest reigns supreme. With this, they are lost, and whatever their was of their personalities is suddenly filled in by group identity, by tribal customs, by rituals. Rationality, autonomy, the "self", loses in a constant struggle against the collective, and by the end of their lives, the only things that exists are myths and the collective. Every gap in knowledge, every moral conduct, every branch of human conduct is thus solved by an appeal to the supernatural, to their creators, to their "Adam and Eve". Suddenly, the tribe acquires a given belief system, and a society is formed around it.

While the first half tackles all these difficult themes, the second follows from a narrative akin to a retelling of Jesus Christ. Already consolidated as a society, what was once a cohesive group is now divided according to belief in the return of the "chosen one". A new astronaut (named Marek), upon finding the recording of the previous cosmonauts, ventures into this new world, only to be identified with God himself. Should Marek accept his "fate" and play God, or should he hold on to his own identity. In other words, are we defined by how others perceive us, or are we defined by how we perceive ourselves? From this dilemma, madness insues deep in his soul, and much like his colleagues before him, his "self" ends up being lost. Upon constant battles with a bird-like civilization, Marek chooses to portray himself as the saviour. His whole existence, his whole purpose from thence forward is subjected to the preservation and defense of the collective. Marek is no longer an individual, but an attempt at transposing the divine to the terrestrial. Despite his efforts, faith starts to decrease, while his arrogance increase. The systems of power in place start to question his omnipotence, dooming him from the start.

In the end, the society portrayed in "On the Silver Globe" ends up being nothing more than a copy of our own. Chaos, destruction, faithlessness, an endless desire for power and perfection assume themselves as the norm. Zulawski's vision thus encapsulates a pessimistic and cyclical vision of humanity and the human nature, meaning that all of us will, forever, be condemned in some sense or another.

"Jak byc kochana" or "How to be loved" was made by polish director Wojciech Has in 1963. The movie centers around a women, named Felicja, travelling to Paris, all the while remembering her old life during the war in Poland, and her turbulent and complex relationship with a theater actor, Wiktor, who is forced to go into hiding in her apartment.

Albeit a simple and traditional story about the II World War, Has seemed to be more focused on the characters per se than the overarching context of the time. From the beginning, the contrast between the main characters positions is evident. Being theater actors, before the war, their entire "being" (in particular that of Wiktor) was defined by being the center of attentions, the receiver of the applause, and the adoration that comes with it. Once in the times of war, however, he not only loses his status, but also his "self", being reduced almost to bird trapped in a cage. With no freedom to go out, to socialize, throughout the movie he feels as though he doesn't exist anymore, extending even after the end of the war itself.

Felicja, on the other hand, is also portrayed as a caged bird, but not in relation to her role in society, but in her relation towards Wiktor, whom she deeply loves. Her whole identity and purpose is shaped towards making sure that his object of adoration stays under her "wings" during the war, establishing an inevitable relationship of toxic dependency between her and him.

All this, however is nothing but mere memories, conceptualizations of the mind, being reflected on by the "present" Felicja, one who, despite far from the dangers of war, is deeply sorrowed by the lost love it entailed.

Has consequently portrays something more than just another II World War drama. Here, the facts of war, despite being in the epicenter of the times, are thrown into the background, to instrumental means to represent the loss of liberty, the loss of individual autonomy and "self", the loss of purpose in the world. Despite showing in some scenes the horrors associated with war, the major condemnations it makes of it are shown on how the characters reorient themselves in times of distress. How can they live day-by-day? How can they have hope? How can they endure all the suffering? In sum, how can they find meaning in their lives? These are the questions the movie tries to answer.

Comissioned by the Soviet State in 1941 to Sergei Eisenstein, "Ivan the Terrible" was meant to be a historical trilogy detailing the great achievements of the Tsar Ivan, with whom Staline identified, and to consolidade the legitimacy of the Soviet struggle against the germans in the II World War. As a consequence, the production of the movie was from the start limited for propagandistic purposes, with the II part only seeing the light of day after the death of Stalin, and the III part never being completed. Nonetheless, Eisenstein delivers what remains to be a classic, depicting Ivan in all its complexity-

The II part of the movie continues on the intrigues behind the fall out of grace from Ivan, where the I part left. Here we see the slow descent into chaos, the slow destruction of Ivan psyche as he becomes more and more corrupted by his power. The ideals he once promoted so highly now stand in the background, with Ivan himself questioning their validity. A once great Tsar is now shown in his worst, tired, constantly fearful of betrayal, alone, and lost. Ivan here ceases to have a "self". His own meaning seems to be dependent on power alone, leaving the audience with a saddened and depressing view of what was supposed to be propagandistic tool to bolster pride in Russian History.

This characterization of Ivan is all the more powerful by the mastery from Eisenstein artistic wise, always employing the use of light, shadows, and even introducing color sequences all for the sake of imprinting in the viewer the sense of progressing madness of Ivan. Despite the II part finishing with Ivan's ultimate victory over the aristocracy (in the form of the Boyars), we can only feel pity by what such end entailed. Ivan remained in power, but such entailed loneliness, isolation, distrust, and a complete loss of identity.

It is no wonder why the Soviet State banned the showing of the II part. Showing Ivan's fall out of grace, instead of glorifying him, one could easily discern the parallels between a paranoid despot like Ivan and that of Staline.

For what it's worth, despite the trilogy not being completed, Eisenstein delivers a masterful work.