The simmering hostility between Lucas and Ragnar, two polar opposites, builds almost symphonically throughout the film, fueled by the priest continuing to regard the Icelander as a vulgar brute, even showing impatience with his genuinely curious questions about what it takes to become a man of God.
Likewise, distant glimpses of the volcano, its fiery glow piercing white fog and clouds. That involves loading up Lucas’ bulky camera equipment, with its wooden easels, developing fluids and trays, as well as a large wooden cross to adorn the new church, which needs to be built before the harsh winter sets in.Īn ominous shot of an earthworm feasting on a large pile of fresh horse manure suggests trouble ahead. Nor is he much encouraged after their arrival by the indifferent welcome of the head guide, Ragnar (Ingvar Sigurðsson), a rugged older man of the land who snorts his dismissal of the “Danish devil” as he prepares the priest’s horse and others to be ridden by the small party. But seasickness cuts the lesson short and his willingness to make any linguistic effort seems to end right there. During the rough sea crossing, Lucas makes a half-hearted attempt to learn some rudimentary Icelandic from the interpreter (Hilmar Guðjónsson) assigned to travel with him - at least making a start on the countless different words for rain. But beneath his outer asceticism, there also appears to be a note of arrogance, of the proudly intrepid colonialist setting off to bring God to the primitive subjects of Danish rule. While the senior cleric assures him his journey will not take him near the volcano, he colorfully describes its stench: “Like the Earth has shat its pants.” The bishop (Waage Sandø) preparing him for the arduous cross-country trek he will take after his ship makes land advises Lucas to pay heed to the local guides, who are able to read the rivers and floes and glaciers he will need to pass. Lucas (Elliott Crosset Hove) is a young priest sent from Denmark to oversee the building of a church and establish a parish in rural Iceland. Cinematographer Maria von Hausswolffs takes that historical source as her visual cue, shooting in the boxy 1.33:1 Academy ratio with the hard edges and rounded off corners of old photos. The film was inspired by seven wet-plate photographs taken by a Danish priest in the late 1800s that are the first known images captured of one of Iceland’s more remote coastal regions.
theatrical cut.Venue: Cannes Film Festival (Un Certain Regard)Ĭast: Elliott Crosset Hove, Ingvar Sigurðsson, Vic Carmen Sonne, Jacob Hauberg Lohmann, Ída Mekkín Hlynsdóttir, Waage Sandø, Hilmar Guðjónsson (The uncut, 288-minute international version, which is now available on home video, is preferable to the 148-minute U.S.
All in all, it may be one of the greatest battle epics ever made. The movie unfolds in separate sequences, each representing an individual battle or attack, and it flows impeccably, without letting the numerous characters and plotlines grow too complex. Together they use wisdom and cunning to battle the sheer military might of their opponent. Likewise, Woo's focus is less on the war itself than on the friendship between two rivals who've teamed up against a greater evil. (It's currently the all-time box office champion in China.) Woo is one of the few directors alive who understands the poetry of action and the beauty of movement, emphasizing these things with a welcome clarity, rather than the usual hand-held action jumble. But as directed by Hong Kong action master John Woo, it easily surpasses them in terms of style and grace, action and cinematography. As a battle epic, RED CLIFF is as impressively mounted as Braveheart and Gladiator.
0 kommentar(er)
