Film ReviewsFrancofonia
Jun 9, 2016 Anchorage Press
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Aleksandr Sokurov has a place in cinematic history that he carved out through a body of work exploring visual and philosophical realms and searching for meaning in history. Sokurov's long and luxurious shots impart viewers with a sense of the time that it takes humanity to fully digest the impact of important events. Sokurov gives viewers a chance to practice patience and observation. His films transform history from dates and numbers to evolution and revolution, over and over again, generation after generation. Sokurov's works are known for their dense literary textures and big ideas. One of his more successful and accessible films is Russian Ark, the 2002 historical and lyrical drama that takes place in Hermitage's Winter Palace. Russian Ark is a masterpiece in every sense, from the tight narrative delivered by an unknown narrator who follows the Marquis de Custine (Sergei Dontsov)-a European stranger in a strange land-as he moves through time in the Hermitage. The cinematic magic delivered by Russian Ark is due in part to the incredible risk that Sokurov takes using a single 96-minute Steadicam sequence to shoot the entire film.
In Francofonia, Sokurov revisits a similar structure to that of Russian Ark but this time the institution is the heart of France; the Louvre. Like Russian Ark, Francofonia is visually stunning, and the overlapping languages and music provide as much of narrative as the moving images. The story this time is set against the backdrop of the museum's history that pivots on the WWII German occupation, France's acquiescence and the Resistance that happens in the shadows. One of the most compelling sequences in Francofonia's narrative is the history of the Louvre shown through paintings at different times and by different artists. The cursory footage of the Louvre's architectural changes and curatorial compositions is breathtaking and moving. Sokurov exposes the emotional power of art and the lengths to which people and governments go to preserve and safeguard this lifeline of humanity. Francofonia is filled with ideas and thoughts that encompass the Russian and Western world; but for all its grandeur, Francofonia is one of Sokurov's weaker works because not only is it derivative of Russian Ark, it feels like a footnote to the 2002 masterpiece.
In Francofonia, Sokurov uses staged re-enactments, archived footage, and photos to portray the relationship between Jacques Jaujard (Louis-do de Lencquesaing), the administrator and keeper of the Louvre and Count Franziskus Wolff-Metternich (Benjamin Utzerath), a German Aristocrat in charge of the coordinated looting of art for the Führer. Sokurov paints their compulsory collaboration at the Louvre Museum as that of frenemies whose relationship turns to a bromance as they work to keep the Louvre's treasures in France-fair enough, but the acting is not up to par so the dynamic doesn't quite play through, or at least not seamlessly or organically.
Perhaps Sokurov is resting on his laurels, as he reuses storytelling devices from Russian Ark, like the historical characters that come in and out, but in Francofonia they are lost through the moving parts and their impact is diminished. It's as if Sokurov brings in a few elements too many, wanders about poetically waxing and then rushes at the end to tie it all up. He also relies on superficial technical devices like excessive use of artificially "weathering" new sequences to integrate them into the archival footage to gain authenticity. But still, Francofonia is beautiful to see, and the big ideas still tug at the heart of viewers and remind contemporary audiences of their place in the world. So what if it Francofonia is one Sokurov's lesser films? Any bad film by the likes of Sokurov is still better than most.
Francofonia shows on Monday, June 13 at 5:30 p.m. at Bear Tooth.
In Francofonia, Sokurov revisits a similar structure to that of Russian Ark but this time the institution is the heart of France; the Louvre. Like Russian Ark, Francofonia is visually stunning, and the overlapping languages and music provide as much of narrative as the moving images. The story this time is set against the backdrop of the museum's history that pivots on the WWII German occupation, France's acquiescence and the Resistance that happens in the shadows. One of the most compelling sequences in Francofonia's narrative is the history of the Louvre shown through paintings at different times and by different artists. The cursory footage of the Louvre's architectural changes and curatorial compositions is breathtaking and moving. Sokurov exposes the emotional power of art and the lengths to which people and governments go to preserve and safeguard this lifeline of humanity. Francofonia is filled with ideas and thoughts that encompass the Russian and Western world; but for all its grandeur, Francofonia is one of Sokurov's weaker works because not only is it derivative of Russian Ark, it feels like a footnote to the 2002 masterpiece.
In Francofonia, Sokurov uses staged re-enactments, archived footage, and photos to portray the relationship between Jacques Jaujard (Louis-do de Lencquesaing), the administrator and keeper of the Louvre and Count Franziskus Wolff-Metternich (Benjamin Utzerath), a German Aristocrat in charge of the coordinated looting of art for the Führer. Sokurov paints their compulsory collaboration at the Louvre Museum as that of frenemies whose relationship turns to a bromance as they work to keep the Louvre's treasures in France-fair enough, but the acting is not up to par so the dynamic doesn't quite play through, or at least not seamlessly or organically.
Perhaps Sokurov is resting on his laurels, as he reuses storytelling devices from Russian Ark, like the historical characters that come in and out, but in Francofonia they are lost through the moving parts and their impact is diminished. It's as if Sokurov brings in a few elements too many, wanders about poetically waxing and then rushes at the end to tie it all up. He also relies on superficial technical devices like excessive use of artificially "weathering" new sequences to integrate them into the archival footage to gain authenticity. But still, Francofonia is beautiful to see, and the big ideas still tug at the heart of viewers and remind contemporary audiences of their place in the world. So what if it Francofonia is one Sokurov's lesser films? Any bad film by the likes of Sokurov is still better than most.
Francofonia shows on Monday, June 13 at 5:30 p.m. at Bear Tooth.