Following on closely from Norte, The End of History (or at least if taking account only of UK release
dates), Lav Diaz has constructed an even longer 338-minute epic, From What
is Before. Apart from a few festival screenings, the film officially
premiered on the MUBI subscription website.
From What is Before is set
in a remote village in the Philippines. The film begins in 1970 and tracks a
series of strange and often unexplained events – a burning house, the slaughter
of cattle and the death of a stranger – through to the declaration of martial
law in 1972.
A short synopsis may remind
viewers of another slow, meditative black-and-white recent arthouse film,
Haneke’s The White Ribbon. However, where Haneke’s film is mainly
about the cruelty inherent in society and the weight of the intuition of
impending crisis, Lav Diaz is interested in investing time in the landscapes he
films with the characters he has created. Here, the parallels between the
people and the places are frequently drawn – distant humans will suddenly
appear in amongst the trees and foliage, giving the impression of hard lives
led very close to nature. Alongside this sense of place, Diaz focuses on
everyday chores and religious rituals to give a sense of the community, and
often these activities will take place in a downpour or in high winds. What the
film achieves here then, especially when the viewer invests the time and the
attention, is a wholly believable and palpably tough sense of what life is like
in these hard, remote places - although sometimes one may be moved to worry
about the actors placed so close to some dangerous-looking waves.
Equally, and as with Norte, The End of History again, this means that when the film takes a darker turn
– with the arrival of the soldiers and the beginning of martial law – it can be
a bit of a shock. The film’s final scenes are convincingly horrible and
desolate, and especially so since we have been granted so much time to
appreciate the relative peace and normality of what has gone before. The soldier’s
invasion of the village feels suitably invasive since we have gotten so used to
watching the (relatively speaking) small, individual dramas of the villagers
without ever having the impression of a stronger force in the wings. That said,
the film’s focus on the tough lives led before the arrival of the soldiers (as
well as the crimes carried out by the villagers, which includes a rape) would
seem to suggest that the film’s major point is that life in the Philippines is
tough, however you go about it.
The question that truly dogs the
film, though, and one that will dog all films that are this long, is whether
the film really needs to be as long as it is. Films can be slow and immersive
without being so long, and as involving as the film is, the length is a
drawback, since it will encourage viewers to watch in instalments (as I
admittedly had to do) and hence lose the flow of the film’s images, sounds and
tone. There are also certain moments were it feels that Daz’s aesthetics are
the only reason that a cut is not being made, sometimes to the detriment of the
characters or drama in a scene. Daz’s intention could be to show how implacable
nature is throughout all of these small human dramas as in one powerful moment
in which a suicide occurs off-screen while the camera focuses on the tide
battering the coast, but it can equally feel like cruel inattention elsewhere.
The length then is a challenge,
and it may require further knowledge of Diaz’s cinema or a better acquaintance
with other long films before one can stop thinking of them as stunts or
endurance tests. Diaz has a remarkable ability to pull you into his films and
they do reward your patience though it may be the case that there is simply too
much to take in on one fidgety viewing. There should always be new challenges
in the cinema, and Diaz’s films are certainly one of those challenges, and it
may be difficult to say anything about his work that doesn’t sound merely
facile until more is known about them.
From What is Before is
both simpler and more complex than Norte, The End of History in that it
shows less and suggests more. I am not going to try to interpret the film’s
many apparent meanings since I feel it will require a second and possibly a
third viewing before the film’s entirety comes to light but, for my money, it
is the superior film.
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