 |
|
 |
|
|
|
| SYNOPSIS |  |
|
It is clear that Theo Angelopoulos finds himself at a turning point in his work. With THE BEE KEEPER we
see him moving away radically from the historical epic in order to broach a sort of epic intimacy,
where the destiny of a single being constitutes the pole round which the whole film revolves.
Angelopoulos does not, however, forswear his style. The long fixed takes, the slow, liturgical traveling
shots where visual miracles are wrought which are inexorably undone by movement, the winter greys and
blues of the photography by Giorgos Arvanitis, are not absent from this new film(..) which tells of the
tragedy of a man in the tone one tells of the tragedy of a people. And the film proceeds to the
sacrificial conclusion (Spyros offers himself barefaced to his bees) in the desolation of lost beauty
and in fatalistic submission to the scandalous ravages of old age, which renders everything absurd:
the impulse towards everything we deem just and beautiful, the ardour of love and friendship,
even filial sentiments which are no longer any use from the moment your children leave you and become
strangers.
MICHEL PEREZ (Le Matin) Angelopoulos is a Mediterranean film-maker. His work bears the two
essential marks of the Mediterranean which are dryness and derision. a dryness derived from abstraction,
especially perceptible in the way he has of rarefying persons and objects in a space that is too big for
them; derision as regards the epic elements.
Angelopoulos is also one of those rare creators who has known how to reintroduce in full the element
of duration into the filmic space. In THE BEE KEEPER, once again he gives us his reflections on man's fate,
on his loneliness and dignity as he becomes aware that his life has run its course.
CINEMA MEDITERRANEEN 8e RENCONTRES In THE BEE KEEPER the style, though, has changed - there are fewer
long takes, the cutting is quicker and the narrative more eventful. But the director's signature is
ever present: wonderfully textured images by Arvanitis, a succession of beautifully sustained traveling
shots and an emotional intensity which moves to a grave, ovewhelming climax. This is the kind of visual
film-making of which only the greatest artists are capable and, apart from anything else, it is the
best road movie since PARIS, TEXAS. Indeed, Wenders and Angelopoulos share some secrets.
JOHN GILLETT
30th London Film Festival An ample piece of work... of overwhelming restraint, of a sober scrutiny
worthy of the early Antonioni. The Greece which Angelopoulos shows (and it is one of the film's
strong points) is not that of the travel agencies. It rains, it snows. We see neither monuments
nor picturesque ornament. It is a poor country, simple, abstract a la Wenders, where one can die
without a word when hope and grace are no longer there. All this is powerful and beautiful,
majestically filmed.
MICHEL BRAUDEAU (Le Monde)
|
|
It's a gesture of despair at the end, but at the moment when he tips over the beehives,
he tries to communicate by tapping on the ground in the way that prisoners tap. Because
he's a prisoner of a situation and he tries to communicate with past events....
Bee-keepers are poetic beings. They have a rapport with nature, and the gathering of honey
is like an artistic activity. He communicates with feelings, and at the end he cannot
continue that communication. His final despairing gesture is directed also against the
bees themselves, like a sculptor would die by toppling his statue onto himself.
|
|
|
|
