The Mystery of Oberwald

Director:  Michelangelo Antonioni
Cast: Monica Vitti, Paolo Bonacelli, Franco Branciaroli
Italy, 129’, 1981, color

Italian with Turkish subtitles

Intrigued by the possibilities presented by the then-new format of video, Antonioni made this experimental work, based on the Jean Cocteau drama The Two-Headed Eagle and starring a regal Monica Vitti. “Respect the etiquette, the ceremonial,” notes a somber character in the story of a queen, trapped in self-exile in a crumbling castle, and the poet/assassin she falls in love with. At times Antonioni stays true to this injunction, lovingly dwelling on every impossibly decorative costume, set, and theatrical pronouncement as if paying homage to his compatriot Visconti. At other times, as if expressing the longings of Vitti’s queen, Antonioni willfully destabilizes the narrative ceremony, using his new technological tools to experiment with color shifts, foregrounded imagery, and other dizzying visual techniques. For Antonioni, video represented “a new world of cinema . . . using color as a narrative, poetic means . . . with absolute faithfulness, or, if so desired, with absolute falseness.”

Story of a Love Affair

Story of a Love Affair

Red Desert

Red Desert

Zabriskie Point

Zabriskie Point

Identification of a Woman

Identification of a Woman

L’Avventura

L’Avventura

Blow-Up

Blow-Up

The Mystery of Oberwald

The Mystery of Oberwald

Shorts

Shorts

At the Order of the Padishah

At the Order of the Padishah

In this piece, Żmurko presents an exotic image of a harem chamber, replete with gleaming fabrics and scattered jewels, as a setting for the statuesquely beautiful body of an odalisque murdered “at the order of the padishah”. 

Dancing on Architecture

Dancing on Architecture

I think it was Frank Zappa – though others claim it was Laurie Anderson – who said in an interview that ‘writing on music is much like dancing on architecture’. 

Midnight Horror Stories: The Last Ferry <br> Galip Dursun

Midnight Horror Stories: The Last Ferry
Galip Dursun

I remembered a game as I was waiting in the passenger lounge for the ferry to arrive just a few minutes ago. A game we used to play at home when I was young, in my country that is very far away from here, a relic from the distant past; I don’t even remember how we used to play it. The kind of game that makes me feel a thousand times lonelier than I already am among the crowd waiting to get on the ferry.