citeodata ma simt ca-n filmul Cinema Paradiso, mai ales cind la Cinema Pro sunt filmele care-mi plac.

una dintre ferestrele mele da in curtea interioara a blocului exact fata in fata cu peretele care sprijina ecranul cel mare al cinematografului. il privesc putin de sus si, pentru ca, atunci cind se face cald, in cinematograf sunt deschise niste geamuri/aerisiri etc aud sonorul filmului. asa ca ma simt ca pustiul din Cinema Paradiso.

de vineri e Fast & Furious nr 6 si e multa galagie. pot sa va spun ca filmul are muuuulte masini si urmariri, ba chiar explozii cu duiumul, desi nu l-am vazut si nici nu o sa-l vad pentru ca nu ma intereseaza.

magia pentru mine e, cum ziceam, la filmele care mi-au placut.

recunosc secventele dupa sonor si ma bucur din nou de momentele care m-au emotionat sau m-au facut sa zimbesc.

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saptamina care se incheie a fost minunata. am avut mult The Great Gatsby.

dupa muzica stiam cind e momentul in care apare Di Caprio si se prezinta Jay Gatsby, iar in spatele lui explodau artificiile de la petrecere. era zimbetul garantat din 3 in 3 ore si gindul la ce trimitere funny & smart a facut Lurhmann la James Bond.

mai tirziu recunosteam secventa accidentului& tensiunea de dupa si stiam ca o sa vina curind si impuscatura (aproape) finala.

imi pare rau ca nu puteti trai genul asta de voyeurism sonor pentru filmele care v-au placut; e o senzatie – cel putin pt mine – voluptoasa.

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am multi prieteni care au vazut filmul lui Buz Lurhmann si mai putini carora le-a placut. pe unii dintre ei am reusit sa-i “mut” din tabara celor cu NU, in cea cu DA dupa ce le-am explicat cit de inovator e Lurhmann in ceea ce inseamna a aduce in limbaj actual o poveste din anii 30 care la vremea ei n-a avut mare succes. (cartea s-a vindut in 20.000 de exemplare , iar Fitzgerald a murit cu ideea ce e un ratat, mult mai tirziu romanul a intrat in curicula scolara americana si a devenit cu adevarat celebru).

daca va uitati astazi, cu obisnuintele de consum si cu ritmul interior al acestor vremuri, la productia din 1974 cu Robert Redford o sa vedeti ca filmul e plictisitor, treneaza pe alocuri, iar Mia Farrow este dusa intr-o zona isterico-mofturoaso-pisicoaso, desi Fitzgerald o descrie cu totul altfel pe Daisy.

Era genul de glas pe care-l urmaresti sesizindu-i cel mai mic crescendo si descrescendo, de parca fiecare replica ar fi o partitura muzicala ce nu va mai fi interpretata niciodata. (…) insa in glasul ei se simtea atita emotie, incit barbatii care tineau la ea cu greu l-ar fi putut uita: un glas cintat, care te subjuga, un “asculta-ma” rostit in soapta, care te incredinta ca mai adineauri a avut parte de niste intimplari asa de nostime si de interesante si ca, in scurt timp, urmeaza sa se petreaca altele la fel de nostime si interesante.  Fitzgerald, in carte.

si daca ati vazut -o pe Carey Mulligan stiti ca exact aici s-a dus cu interpretarea. De fapt, daca (re)cititi  cartea veti vedea ca Lurhman o urmeaza cu strictete si tot ceea ce face in film e sa se foloseasca de geniul lui vizual (si muzical) ca sa puna povestea intr-un limbaj (ritm, structura, viteza de montaj) al vremurilor noastre.

cam cu aceeasi tehnica, mult mai perfectionata, pe care a folosit-o si la Moulin Rouge si la Romeo & Juliet.

despre atentia lui pentru structuri si detalii, despre pasiunea lui pentru documentare si pentru a intelege cit mai mult inainte de a “traduce” totul intr-un limbaj actual, un mic fragment dintr-un interviu din Interview magazine 🙂

When I was very young, I grew up in a totally isolated place, in a very small town. I always win the bet with anyone who says, “I lived in a small town”—I grew up in a town with 11 houses, and that was the big part of town. We lived on the outskirts. But the thing is, my dad ran a cinema for a short time and I went to a tiny little Catholic school. There were only three rooms in the school and there were nuns, and I would go up to the library and there would be a bookshelf with about 10 books on it.

One of them was called The Merchant of Veniceby William Shakespeare, and I opened it and went, “I will never be able to understand that as long as I live.” And a nun named Sister DeChantl said something like, “Oh, he’s one of the greatest writers of all time!” I sort of struggled with Shakespeare for a bit, but when eventually I ran away to the city, there was a guy called Neil Armfield [the Australian film and theater director], who is one of our living treasures. He did a production of Twelfth Night.

People were giving out drinks and it was like we were in a Club Med in the Caribbean. There was music and dancing and there was a flash of light, and an actor called Robert Grubb came on in a white suit and said, “If music be the food of love, play on!” The band struck up again and I don’t remember what happened, except I understood every single word of it, and the lights came up and I went, “What was that?” So someone did that for me with Shakespeare and I became a mad Shakespeare nut and quite a bit of an academic on it. I studied it very, very heavily at drama school, and I worked with the greats. But I wanted to do that for a cinematic audience. How would Shakespeare go about making a movie? That’s how Romeo + Juliet was born. I’m a mad research junky and I researched—I could probably research my whole life and not make the movies. Cut to Gatsby . . . In a way, it was sort of the same thing, because I remember reading the book and kind of not getting it. Then I saw the Redford film . . .

WELCH: Yes! I read it first and I didn’t get it either. Then I read it again later in life and it was like someone shined a golden light through the pages. All of a sudden you’re just awash with it. The second or third time I read it, the language just glowed.

LUHRMANN: That’s the genius of Fitzgerald. Every time you reread it, you see something new that you didn’t remember from before. And the guy wasn’t even 30 when he wrote it. Jonathan Franzen said that when he wanted to learn about writing, he tried to analyze Gatsby. I’m extemporizing, but he said something like that he just rolled over to “present” his belly and “let Fitzgerald stroke it.” He just realized that he’d never understand how it was done. And that’s the genius of the book. Franzen said, “You feel like you’re eating whipped cream, and yet you feel nourished”—you know, it’s so dense but it’s so light.

So what happens to me is that I’m on the Trans-Siberian Railway—this is after a Moulin Rouge debriefing—and I’m going to meet CM [Luhrmann’s wife, Catherine Martin] in Paris with my newborn darling Lily. I think the train is going to be amazing and romantic, but I get on and it’s a tin box and the air conditioning’s rattling and there’s this Russian babushka who gives me a rubber hose and says, “You shower end of car, now.” I go, “What am I going to do? This is crazy.”

So I had a couple bottles of Australian red wine and some recorded books with me on a little iPod with speakers. One of them was Gatsby, and I put it on. Honestly, it was six in the morning before I stopped listening, and I fell asleep drinking the wine. Couldn’t wait till the next night, listened, and at the end of that experience, it was like there were birch trees in Siberia flicking by and I went, “I’ve got to make this into a movie.” That was something like 10 years before I even got the rights.

 

 intregul interviu aici. m-am bucurat sa descopar ca si Lurhmann il iubeste pe Jonathan Franzen un scriitor pentru care acum multi ani am facut mult lobby ca sa fie tradus si in romaneste si despre care inca mai cred ca e unul dintre cei mai mari scriitori americani contemporani (sa cititi Corectii, daca n-ati facut-o deja. am scris despre Jonathan Franzen de foarte multe ori, dar daca nu stiti nimic despre el cititi despre acest gest de prietenie)

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uneori imi doresc sa pot sa merg la cite un film care -mi place mult cu fiecare dintre spectatori si sa stau sa le povestesc mici lucruri despre cum e filmat, montat si ce e in spatele fiecarui cadru.

si mi-ar fi placut ca in aceasta ecranizare, Robert Redford sa fie Gatsby, iar Carey Mulligan sa fie Daisy.