LUCHINO VISCONTI
– DEATH IN VENICE – DIRK BOGARDE – 1971
It all starts at the end with
death entering the beach on the signal, call, invitation to lift yourself up
towards the horizon and get through the door, the promise of some beauty that
will never die and you have always looked for and had never been able to really
find because you looked for it in pure patterns, motifs and other figures that
were abstract in music and that rejected all emotions, sensations, passions,
feelings. In other words the heart.
At the end of his life Gustav
Aschenbach discovers that a teenager, hardly more than fifteen is the beauty he
has looked for all along, and he finally finds when he accepts his senses, his
eyes, and his sudden attraction and emotion in front of it, of him, of Tadzio. And
the blatant and blinding beauty of this youth dances in his mind, becomes a
whirlwind and a hurricane in his soul. He has fallen in love with that young
man, well under age for sure, and he will close his life with that gesture
towards the pure sky. He will try to imitate Tadzio’s gesture and he will die
transmitting his insane project to this Tadzio who knew the old man was trying
to get in touch with him but he was too young, and had too many relatives
around him to try to contact that mysterious encounter in spite of his
curiosity.
That’s the most insane desire an
older man has: to be able to transcend death and transfer all that he has not
done, he has not been able to do to that younger man he has never spoken to and
yet has become an idol, an angel, a god even, definitely the one who will carry
the old man’s future to that future the old man will never know. That feeling
is disjointed, some critics will say. And it is, for anyone who considers the
normal humdrum banal world of everyday to be the proper way of assembling the
pieces of the jigsaw puzzle. But if you look back in passion and in love, maybe
in anger too, you find out it is the way you assemble the pawns on the
chessboard just before dying that is the proper way, the best way to live in
this world, and yet the older man is dying.
Everything in the film is of
course transforming Venice into a trap for the older man, the composer and
conductor, and yet an escape way for Tadzio, the teenager who has opened the
oldezr man’s consciousness to what he had ignored, ,or refused to consider, all
his life. And that is pure justice: the younger one must be able to escape the
death of the older one but the younger one is then, entrusted with continuing the
older one’s dreams, transcending their limits, transmuting their fears into
light and heat, into bliss and ecstacy, the acme of spirituality, the spearhead
of discovery and inventiveness.
Yet the epidemic spreading in Venice is turned into a
very heavy and stifling atmosphere that reminds us of some kind of medieval
vision of some plague, black or bubonic, who cares. And yet the film also has a
hefty and even cruel sense of humor with the four street musicians singing for
the hotel guests and yet provoking them as the foreigners they are who do not
understand Italian, and that’s better for them because we can imagine from the
body language of the main musician the obscenity of the discourse.
Some flashbacks enable us to
understand the context of this old man, his happy marriage and fatherhood, and
the burial of his daughter when she was still young, the debate with his main
friend about music and purity, the refusal of evil in man and hence of any
sentiment that would make the music too concrete and material to still be
music. At the same time the hammering of Beethoven’s “Für Elise” when visiting
what can only be a shady house and the same piece being played by Tadzio one
day. Tadzio playing brings back the recollection of this event from the past
back and it soils the boy in a way since he is associated with a shady lady
with whom yet the old man had no contact at all, except her playing the music
and her taking off some of her garments.
This is probably the real dilemma
of the character: he always knew beauty was in the intensity of his desires and
feelings, but he always refused to yield, well not quite always after all since
he was married and had a daughter. But that was made pure by the sacrament
behind the relationship and the procreative instinct. But was it only that or
did it become that after the death of the daughter? You will not be able to
answer that question. So we are back to the final scene which is the whole
story we want to remember in two gestures, in some mute and silent body
language that enables the older man to finally talk to Tadzio by imitating his
gesture. And yet he will be carried away disgracefully by two hotel servants
with the few last tourists who have not yet left significantly stepping back
from him.
Death always has the last word
and yet love may be able to have the next word, but the impossible connection
with Tadzio makes this next word very problematic.
A beautiful very sad and yet
humane film with the phenomenal music of Gustav Mahler in the background
surging from time to time to the foreground.
Dr Jacques COULARDEAU
# posted by Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU @ 2:46 PM