1. Caro Visitante, por que não gastar alguns segundos e criar uma Conta no Fórum Valinor? Desta forma, além de não ver este aviso novamente, poderá participar de nossa comunidade, inserir suas opiniões e sugestões, fazendo parte deste que é um maiores Fóruns de Discussão do Brasil! Aproveite e cadastre-se já!

Dismiss Notice
Visitante, junte-se ao Grupo de Discussão da Valinor no Telegram! Basta clicar AQUI. No WhatsApp é AQUI. Estes grupos tem como objetivo principal discutir, conversar e tirar dúvidas sobre as obras de J. R. R. Tolkien (sejam os livros ou obras derivadas como os filmes)

Nossa Música (Notre Musique, 2004)

Tópico em 'Cinema' iniciado por Strider, 16 Fev 2005.

  1. Strider

    Strider Usuário

    Nossa Música (Jean-Luc Godard, 2004)

    Este conteúdo é limitado a Usuários. Por favor, cadastre-se para poder ver o conteúdo e participar (não demora e não possui custos)


    Elenco: Sarah Adler; Pierre Bergounioux; Jean-Christophe Bouvet; Jean-Paul Curnier; Jean-Luc Godard

    Equipe Técnica: Jean-Luc Godard (Diretor, Roteirista)

    Sinopse: Usando imagens de destruição e guerras, Godard denuncia os conflitos de nossos tempos.

    Novo filme do Godard. Tipo, só isso deveria interessar. Eu assisti no Festival do Rio ano passado, mas já estreou em São Paulo e aqui no Rio deve estrear essa semana ou logo. Não sei quanto ao resto do Brasil, mas se as pessoas vissem Nossa Música, o mundo seria melhor.

    O filme é divido em três partes, e leva a estrutura de A Divina Comédia, do Dante: Inferno, Purgatório e Paraíso. O Inferno é constituído apenas de imagens de guerras, borradas, muitas veze sem definição, profusão de cores agressivas, vouyerismo puro, onde nós nada podemos fazer sobre a brutalidade e falta de compaixão no mundo.

    A segunda, no Purgatório, o próprio Godard aparece, em Sarajevo, apresentando uma conferência sobre texto e imagem, sobre o campo e contra-campo, alternando imagens de palestinos e judeus, o cinema de Hawks, etc. Aqui, Godard em pessoa, passa a sua mensagem sobre a realidade/ficção, imaginação/imagem ou verdade/mentira para tentar entender o mundo desconexo, suas incoerências, etc (ou não). Ainda há a presença de Olga, que está em Saravejo ppara fazer seu filme, e entrega uma cópia a Godard (uau, né?), para ajudar ainda colorir o tema do filme na esperança de entender a imagem.

    O Paraíso só poderia ser filmado pelo Godard hoje em dia. Ele faz o Céu sendo controlado pela marinha dos EUA, o tão criticado país por Godard, não só pela política externa também como por Hollywood e o cinema corrompido. Nada mais irônico e fictício.

    "Matar uma pessoa para defender uma idéia não é defender uma idéia, é matar uma pessoa", entre outras frases marcantes, que como diz a porca sinopse ali em cima, criticando o mundo e conflitos atuais.
     
  2. Mithrellas

    Mithrellas Usuário

    Doh, eu ainda não vi. Quero ver. O trailler é muito bom.
     
  3. Orion

    Orion Jonas

    Se chegar em Recife eu faço uma dança flamenca em homenagem ao cinema exibidor.

    Parece ser a coisa mais fantástica do universo, etc.
     
  4. ombudsman

    ombudsman O Eto'o brasileiro

    Em Curitiba esse filme já foi exibido, numa Mostra de Cinema Francês, no fim do ano passado. Ainda bem que eu fui.

    O filme - ao contrario do que possam imaginar os frequentadores do site do Mike d'angelo - , nao é nada cansativo, e embora um pouco inferior aos outros dois atos, o Purgatório ainda é Foda!

    Esse filme merece ser visto mesmo se só fosse composto pela montagem inicial do inferno : uma aula de edicao e montagem. Simplesmente fantastico. Assim como os simbolismos na parte do purgatorio com os indios em Sarajevo, ou as cenas finais no "paraiso".

    Cinema de mestre. Tambem, nao é de se espantar.. com um diretor desses :grinlove: :grinlove: :grinlove:
     
  5. Mithrellas

    Mithrellas Usuário

    Não fale mal do Mike :disgusti: :x

    ele erra as vezes.

    Mas isso não dá o direito a um ser humano qualquer de falar mal dele. :x
     
  6. Sister Jack

    Sister Jack Usuário

    Não é que o Mike erra, é que ele tem um gosto pessoal e ele sabe do que ele gosta.

    Anyway, 69
     
  7. Mithrellas

    Mithrellas Usuário

    Zero pra Elefante foi um erro, imo.

    Por isso ele precisa de mim na vida dele. :grinlove:

    *Mithrellas saltita freneticamente ao som de He Needs Me*
     
  8. ombudsman

    ombudsman O Eto'o brasileiro

    Hahah, 0 pra Elefante foi legal de ver.

    Nao estou criticando o d'angelo. Só nao concordo com ele na nota pra este especifico filme.
     
  9. Sister Jack

    Sister Jack Usuário

    "Pessoas humanas não começam revoluções. Elas constroem bibliotecas"

    É um dos grandes filmes anti-idealistas.
     
  10. Bellcross

    Bellcross Ei, Ó o Auê aí ó !

    Qual é a desse filme... é +- no estilo Baraka, ou tem personagens e historia ?? :|
     
  11. Sister Jack

    Sister Jack Usuário

    É um filme-dissertação do período final do Godard, que ele vem fazendo desde os anos 80. Tem personagens e história na seção do meio, mas eles não importam muito, são utilizados somente com a intenção de exploração temática. Os primeiros e últimos 10 minutos são montagens surreais/abstratas/wtf.
     
  12. Thico

    Thico The Passenger

    Então, o Purgatório é bem isso que você falou mesmo. Só não acho ele tão/quase sendo belo e impressionante como as outras partes.

    Quanto ao "torturante", ele foi sim para mim, mas não no sentido pejorativo... e sim de deixar minha mente perturbada ao ver Sarajevo bem de perto, toda aquela questão dos índios que aparecem no filme e é claro da frase (muitas) marcantes. Acho que a palavra adequada no meu caso seria perturbador mesmo.
     
  13. Cain

    Cain Usuário

    Entrevista com o Godard sobre o filme:
    In Sarajevo, the “Jew of the cinema” cultivates a sense of optimism.
    From Le Monde - Interview by Jacques Mandelbaum and Thomas Sotinel

    By happy coincidence, just as Europe is expanding and the cinema is wondering where its own
    boundaries lie, Jean-Luc Godard went to Sarajevo to make “Notre Musique” (Our Music), a
    serious and optimistic film. He describes the genesis of the film and the sense of serenity he
    found in an abandoned city where there is some hope of reconstruction.
    Three years ago in Cannes, you said you already knew your next film would be called Notre
    musique.

    Since A bout de souffle [Breathless, 1959], I’ve always known the names of my films ahead of
    time. Whether it’s a stick or a carrot, that’s how it goes. It’s an indicator, a sound. Something
    could be called such-and-such – so what do we need to do so that it can be called by that name?
    What made you decide to divide the film into three parts: Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven?
    One concept I share with Anne-Marie Miéville is making triptychs: a past, a present, a future;
    one image, another image and what comes between, what I call the real image, the third person,
    as in the Trinity. And I would call the third person the image, the image we don’t see, that comes
    from what we’ve glimpsed of what we will be seeing. For the rest, the cinema works in a naïve
    way technically, practically, just like that. And so when I went to Sarajevo, clearly it was
    Purgatory. They had Hell before, now it’s Purgatory, but I don’t think they’ll ever have Heaven.

    What principles were you following when you filmed the Hell segment, which is a montage
    of war images?

    I’m always afraid that I’ll wind up with no more than an hour and 20 minutes of film. So there
    was one hour for Purgatory, and I told myself we needed 10 minutes before and 10 minutes
    afterwards. Hell is quite long, with 10 minutes’ worth of documents, divided into four small
    moments, which is easier than going on for 10 minutes. The first part is all the wars, the second
    is technology – tanks, aircraft, ships. The third is victims of war, and the fourth part is some
    images of Sarajevo during the war, to introduce the Purgatory segment.

    Why did you decide to mix documentary images and fiction?

    I don’t make a big distinction between the two. You won’t see a couple kissing in a
    document[ary], you’ll see it in a fiction film. I was thinking of the [Robert] Aldrich film Kiss Me
    Deadly and then showing a map of Hiroshima after the destruction, since the Aldrich film was a
    metaphor for the atomic bomb at the time.

    What made you want to go to Sarajevo?

    I’d been there once or twice before. I was invited by the Rencontres du livre, and suddenly I said
    to myself, that’s where this should take place, almost as if I was drawn to it. And then I’d rather
    – whether because I’m afraid or I just prefer it that way or want to be contrary, go there once the
    fire’s been extinguished, but there’s always something going on under the ashes when
    everyone’s gone. The place itself is abandoned, neglected again.

    You put the Sarajevo Rencontres du livre up on the screen. How did you work with the
    writers we see?

    Juan Goytisolo had been there three times. There were some unknown writers whose prose I
    found interesting or touching. And then there was [the Palestinian poet] Mahmoud Darwish for a
    bit of the Israel-Palestine theme, which was an underlying theme but I didn’t want to make it the
    main element. That would have turned it into a different film, let’s say the story of that Israeli
    reporter or the story of Olga, the Jewish student of Russian origin. I wanted to show them all on
    equal terms, I wanted to be democratic, with both fiction and documentary, real actors and false
    actors and no actors at all, and me intervening as a guest.

    It’s almost a tribute to the written form.

    Yes, a tribute to the written form by its greatest destroyer. But what I’m destroying is a way of
    using the written form that refuses to take images on equal terms.

    Do we detect a certain disenchantment in the infernal beginning of the film, in the tone of
    your “cinema lesson”?

    No, there was, but not any more. I’m just an ordinary citizen who’s disenchanted with a certain
    number of things. Once you get older sometimes you’re a little more disenchanted, but at the
    same time enchanted with other things you discover with age. But there are so many things that
    don’t work – why is that?
    I don’t see why they invented social security during the Liberation and then, 50 years later, it
    can’t exist any more. And why they started to talk about retirement during the Liberation, but
    that doesn’t work. The other day, I got a call from a contract worker. I told him, “If you want an
    hour-long discussion, go to my press conference. I’d be delighted not to do it.” He was talking
    about occupation, and I told him, “If you’re putting up a resistance, it’s hard to use the word
    ‘occupation’.”

    Three Jewish characters is a lot in one movie.

    I’m the fourth. I’m a Jew of the cinema.

    You seem to be placing more and more emphasis on the fate of the Jews. Where does that
    come from?

    It’s been a gradual process, because I’ve had to educate myself on the subject. At my
    grandfather’s house – he was a collaborationist – we would listen to speeches by Philippe
    Henriot every evening. During the war, my parents were part of the Swiss Red Cross, visiting
    refugee camps. But no one ever explained to me what had happened.
    Afterwards, bit by bit, I did some reading here and there and finally made some connections. But
    basically, I’ve never succeeded in knowing what it really means to be Jewish. The only way for
    me to understand it is to tell myself that I’m the same: I want to be with others, and at the same
    time not with others. This is a feeling I have myself.

    Exactly what do you mean by the parallel you make between Jews and Muslims in the film,
    based on the two photos of Nazi death-camp prisoners? Where did you get the photos you
    used for that?

    The first photo is well known, it’s a picture of a prisoner with bulging eyeballs, which I believe
    was taken when the camps were liberated. The other photo, of a deported person, gives you the
    feeling that the end is near. They’re the ones who were so exhausted physically they were nearly
    dead, who were called “Muslims” in the camps. I’ve always wondered how it happened that the
    Germans called Jews “Muslims.” And then I realized that this was where the Middle East
    conflict started. You’re in an apartment, and someone arrives and says, “I have been appointed
    by God; I will now occupy this apartment.” I wanted to make a movie about that with Marcel
    Ophuls, where we would show the two of them in that apartment. We talked, we tried to solve
    the question between ourselves, as if we had the power to do so, but it didn’t work out.

    Isn’t it dangerous to suggest, as you do, a parallel between the extermination of the Jews
    and the Palestinian exile due to the Middle East conflict?

    Of course, I thought about that for a long time. When you put the two things side by side, they
    say it’s disgusting. But how is it that no one – neither the Jews nor the Palestinians – has drawn
    that parallel? And when I do that, I’m not thinking about it, I do it like a scientist bringing
    elements together. People would rather talk about something than really look at it. What I’m
    saying is, let’s look at the images. I would rather look [first], then talk about it afterwards.

    In the dialogue between the Israeli journalist and the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish,
    they don’t speak the same language, but they seem to understand each other.

    He understood her, because Darwish speaks Arabic and understands Hebrew, but she didn’t
    understand him, because she doesn’t speak Arabic, but she’s a good actress.

    The poet says, “We are fortunate that our enemy is Israel, because the Jews are the centre of
    the world.” What is your understanding of this idea that the Jewish people, the pariah of
    the nations for 20 centuries, is the centre of the world?

    What does that mean, “the centre of the world”? Here’s how I understand it. There is something
    very original about the Israelis, but they’ve introduced the idea of origin into their originality.
    Origin means that someone came first. They have theorized about all that, and so it’s completely
    normal that what happened to them did happen to them, and they’ve been able to theorize about
    it because it happened to them.

    Let’s move from the centre of the world to the masters of the world, the Americans, who
    are also, in your film, the guards of Heaven…

    I didn’t invent that. Everyone will credit me with making that anti-American comment, but you
    should know that it comes from the last couplet of the Marines’ Hymn, which we’ve heard 100
    times from Ford or Hawks. How would I invent that? The Americans want to have everything…
    There are many lands on the American continent, so why is just that little bit of it called
    America? The U.S. knows very well that it’s the name of a country that has no land, people who
    have no land, so they need to find their land somewhere else.

    You’ve said that you feel you’re on the fringes of the cinema. Do you feel more serene
    about that experience today?

    Of course I do, but it was Sarajevo that brought me that, Sarajevo as a metaphor for Europe, with
    people who feel that they’re separated from others and at the same time are with us, with
    something to be reconstructed together. That’s why my film is relatively serious, but also an optimistic film
     

Compartilhar