blueswoman’s blues

    I’ve just seen a film that made me weep, not because it’s a weepy movie
(the way that chick flicks like "Beaches" made women friends cry), but
because it was so beautifully done that it made me weep.  Beautiful
music affects me in the same way, as if it fills my soul and heightens
my passion for art.  This film truly filled me to the brim. 

    I’m
referring to "Lives of Others."  I didn’t want to write the synopsis
because I want to stay with this feeling… but anyway, it is about a
national security agent in East Germany who was made to conduct
surveillance on a playwright, an artist who is considered right-wing (a
liberal or leaning toward the West).  But his wiretapping activities
transformed him and reversed him — not in a grand dramatic way. As he
listened into the life of this artist and his actress-wife, he too
consumed the art that they created, vicariously lived the passion they
felt for each other and for their art and secretly aligned himself with
their beliefs.  From being a hard-core socialist who saw betrayal in
any artist who leaned toward the West, to a compassionate man (yet
outwardly cold and restrained) who risked his career to save what
remains of the artists’ restricted lives. 

    If the filmmaker
were a conductor, he did not use huge gestures of the hands and arms,
but quiet, slow and soft movements that built up to the film’s climax

    I
caught myself saying "putang ina, ang ganda" several times, especially
when in a brief period of the film, roles were reversed and  George
(the playwright who was under surveilance) was watching the agent who
used to listen to his every move and conversation. This happened after
the Berlin Wall fell and he learned that this agent actually "saved"
him, so to speak.  George never confronted or asked him why he did what
he did. 

    And that last shot where the agent opened the book
written by this writer (a fulfillment of both their dreams, perhaps)
and read the acknowledgment (where the writer acknowledged him).  How
can you describe the effect of communication that never actually
happened but actually did? A bond was created indirectly.  Intrusion
bore respect for the other.  It was a strange feeling.  It was full of
ironies.  I felt the warmth of humanity through his (what I would call)
detached attachment to these artists.

    Naku, mana pala ako sa lolo
ko (who was said to exclaim, "putang ina, sinong nag-bake ng cake na
ito? ang sarap!" hindi ko na siya masyadong matandaan kasi napakabata
ko pa noon). One is predisposed to cursing when one experiences
something great.

    I had to rush to write this to just pour out the
feeling of being bestowed this aesthetic experience. Parang yun e–
watching it was not just seeing the film, but experiencing beauty.
Talagang overflowing ang feeling inside me.  I wish I could fashion the
words to capture the feeling and give justice to the film.  minsan
talaga hindi sapat ang mga salita.

This entry was posted on Friday, September 21st, 2007 at 9:50 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.