Sunday, May 03, 2026

290. The late Hungarian director Béla Tarr's seventh feature film "Kárhozat" (Damnation) (1988): The first of six amazing Tarr films in collaboration with the 2025 Nobel literature prize-winner László Krasznahorkai

 














 

Director Béla Tarr is someone who "created colors by making them disappear" (a trite reference to his black-and-white films) and as an artist who, in his films, "tried to speak as the sinner who, nevertheless, with all his sins, must still be loved." 
---Nobel literature prize-winner László Krasznahorkai in his Nobel banquet speech on 10 Dec 2025. Bela Tarr died on 6 Jan 2026.


There is a marked difference between the films Béla Tarr made before Damnation and thereafter--a significant shift thanks to his new partnership with co-scriptwriter Krasznahorkai, a shift reminiscent of the beginning of  the collaboration between Polish director Krzysztof Kieslowski and his new co-scriptwriter Krzysztof Piesiewicz from 1985 till Kieslowski's death in March 1996. The two distinct collaborations (in two different but geographically close countries) produced amazing cinematic works weaving strands of philosophy, theology, politics and sociology. Damnation is indeed a film by and on a "sinner, who nevertheless, with all his sins, must still be loved," as his friend  Krasznahorkai described it so appropriately in his Nobel banquet speech.

There are very few spoken words are economically used but the camera does the talking instead. When Tarr shows his main character Karrer, alone in his apartment, staring out of a window at a ropeway carrying coal for a long while, the viewer is forced to decipher Karrer's possible thoughts. That is how Damnation works. The viewer has empathize with the human beings, the environment, social interactions, such that a thinking viewer can grasp the existential elements, scene by scene. Aspects of alienation and existentialism drenches the film just as the rain on the ground in the film.

Damnation is set in a nameless Hungarian town where the climate is rainy, damp, with few children but populated more with stray dogs living in harmony with the human population. Evidently there is a coal mine nearby as a ropeway is continuously transporting coal somewhere. The only vehicle shown in the film is a car belonging to the family of a key character. For a small town, there are several bars, where the towns population converge in the evenings. The main protagonist is called Karrer who appears to be unemployed but is served drinks at the bars without payment. Everyone in the film is sullen and stare mid-distance without purpose, unless there is dance and merrymaking in one of the bars. Economic development apparently is at a standstill. Smuggling of some unnamed goods appear to be an attraction for some. Evidently this tale set is Hungary prior to glasnost.

Karrer staring, without purpose. out of his window at 
the coal ropeway contemplating his bleak existence

In this film, Karrer fits the description of a sinner "who with all his sins must still be loved." Karrer is hopelessly involved in an illicit affair with a married woman who sings at a bar ominously named "Titanic Bar." Everything in the film seems to point to tragedy. The film introduces the viewer the to lady first with her voice and later her to her visage. The song she sings underscores the socio-political situation in the film. It is an absolutely stunning sequence, in which her song sung in a bleak surrounding states "It is finished. It's all over. There won't be another....it is like a nightmare. Where is somebody new? Where will he come from? Or won't he come? ...It is good that utopia exists. It's good to know I won't be here long." Here the viewer is re-introduced to existentialist queries similar to Karrer's stare out of the window at the ropeway this time thanks to the words of the song and the minimalistic music.

The illicit lovers 

The theological intervention/warning to Karrer comes later in the narrative from the elderly well-meaning cloakroom woman at the Titanic bar who has noticed the illicit affair when she confronts Karrer, near the building where his lover lives, and advises the down-and-out depressed Karrer to mend  his ways by quoting the Old Testament book of Ezekiel, Chapter 7:14-19. Karrer ignores her and proceeds to his lovers' residence. 

The well-meaning elderly cloakroom woman

Visually Damnation is emphasizing rain in black-and-white. Rain splattering a dry wall and wetting it gradually is not merely beautiful but metaphorically captures the essence of depressing life in a small unknown town in Hungary that offers few options for its population to improve their lot except by visiting bars, by playing billiards, and by moping about their social predicaments.

Rainfall forming shapes on a dry wall

A dog enjoys the rainy puddle outside the bar

 
Some escape the rain by dancing inside the bar...

...and there are loners who enjoy the rain by dancing in the open.

The rain in Damnation recalls the metaphoric use of rain in the 1971 Indian film Ashad Ka Ek Din (One day before the rainy season) directed by Mani Kaul and adapted from Mohan Rakesh's first Hindi play that had challenged and changed the quality of Hindi drama considerably from then onwards. That play was about a real poet and playwright called Kalidasa, who lived in India, 15 centuries before Rakesh and had a love affair with a woman that did not end well. The film of the Mohan Rakesh play begins with Mallika, its female lead drenched in rain followed by moody and drenched atmosphere throughout with little or no sunshine in the entire film. That is indeed similar to the feel and structure of Damnation. Both films have rain in many sequences and both have a tale of love between a man and a woman that does not end well.

Apart from the cloakroom woman's impromptu recollection of the Biblical passage from the book of Ezekiel for Karrer to mend his ways, the final segments of Damnation recalls the actions parallel to those of Judas Iscariot in the Bible. After Karrer notes that his lover has left the bar with her husband, we are shown Karrer at the police station, revealing smuggling activities of his lover's husband that Karrer had suggested to him for Karrer's own benefit.

Karrer at the police station providing smuggling evidence
against his lover's husband

And like Judas, he ends up in a Potter's Field (Akeldama or where the sinners/outcasts were buried in Jerusalem in Jesus' time). Karrer's betrayal of the husband, does not get him his lover, but only secures his own social, spiritual and metaphorical descent into the rainy mud. Karrer's barking like dog at a real dog is provides an image of the burial of Karrer's humanity while alive. The film ends with a close-up of a lump of mud.

Karrer barking at a dog in the empty muddy field


What will puzzle the viewer  of the film is how much of the script belongs to Bela Tarr and how much to László Krasznahorkai. The script was not based on any written work of Krasznahorkai but was a joint original screenplay of both members of the creative team, with Tarr's name appearing above that of Krasznahorkai in the film's credits.

P.S. Mani Kaul's film Ashad Ka Ek Din (1971), mentioned in the above review, is one of the author's favorite Indian films.



Sunday, February 08, 2026

289. Iranian director Jafar Panahi's 14th feature film "It was Just an Accident" (Yek tasadof-e sadeh) (2025) (Iran), based on his original screenplay: Can sadistically tortured and dehumanized prisoners forgive their former tormentor in a prison when the tables are turned much later?














 

You killed me a hundred times. Have you forgotten? I am a zombie. One of the living dead.,,,Why did you destroy our lives?

              --Vahid, a former victim of the sadistic Eghbal, a prison official, now confronting him

Film directors Jafar Panahi and Mohammad Rasoulof are without doubt the two most celebrated living Iranian film directors in the world, Both have the dubious distinction of being imprisoned several times in Iran. Their crime--they make films that present the internal problems of their country to the whole wide world, indirectly criticizing political repression of the common man. Panahi has won the very top honors at Cannes (for It was Just an Accident), Berlin (for Taxi) and Venice film festivals (for No Bears and for The Circle) --the most respected film festivals in the world. Rasoulof won the top honor at Berlin for There is No Evil and several major awards at Cannes. One cannot but admire these two gentlemen continuing to make superb films, often surreptitiously and smuggling the film they made out of Iran to be shown at major festivals.

The original screenplay and the film are the very best among all the films made by Jafar Panahi to date. The film begins with a car ride in the night in a poorly lit road, with a father, a mother, and their young daughter in the backseat. The car hits a dog, killing it. The wife comforts the husband with the words "It was just an accident." Hence, the title of the film. Panahi's screenplay telescopes that simple accident to what follows. Cinephiles who have seen the Turkish maestro Nuri Bilge Ceylan's Three Monkeys (2008) will recall a similar car accident in the night early in the film, also telescoping and connecting it to the complex tale that follows.



"Eghbal" insists he is not Eghbal to Vahid

What follows is a complex tale of several male and female prisoners, who were incarcerated in an Iranian prison, now freed but traumatized for life by the sadistic torture, while blindfolded, of a notorious prison official named Eghbal, with a prosthetic leg. One of the prisoners, Vahid, recognizes Eghbal by the audio signature of Eghbal's prosthetic leg, which is etched in one's memory when you are blindfolded. Other blindfolded victims of Eghbal recognize him by smell and touch.

Shiva, the photographer, identifies Eghbal by smell
but is not very sure

Hamid is able to identify Eghbal by touch

What follows is a creative tale scripted by Panahi, with the prisoners who have never interacted before narrating chilling tales of torture of inmates in Iranian prisons. What Panahi presents includes a cameo of the world of corrupt policemen who ask for small bribes in Iran. 

Panahi's well-crafted screenplay brings back the threesome in the car at night who witnessed their car run over a dog, at the beginning of the film, into perspective, as the tale progresses towards the end.

The end of It was Just an Accident is open-ended but the options available to all humane individuals in Iran are universally applicable. This film is definitely one of the very best films of 2025 and an appropriate subject to ruminate on when fear and hate are being increasingly experienced worldwide. It is the very best and most complex work of Jafar Panahi to date, a work that Iranian cinema can truly be proud of for a long while. One has to admire the courage of Panahi and Rasoulof to accomplish their feats under constant fear of imprisonment.

P.S. The films mentioned in the above review--Taxi, The Circle, There is No Eviland Three Monkeys --have been reviewed earlier on this blog. Click on the names of the films in this postscript to access those reviews,









Monday, January 26, 2026

288. Georgian director Dea Kulumbegashivili's second feature film "April" (2024) (in Georgian language) based on her own original screenplay: Can moral beliefs to help the poor and needy override the laws of the land and put one's career in jeopardy?


Do you understand how laws work? You will have no more patients; you will not have a job. Even if you are not arrested, you will be ruined. If you want to work, you have to obey the laws. Sometimes, the law may go against our moral beliefs.
-- Head doctor of obstetrician/gynecologist at Nina's hospital asks Nina the gynecologist, who conducts free extra-curricular abortions for the poor and needy in rural Georgia

This Georgian (the country, not the US state with the same name) film will grip any cinephile exposed to rapidly evolving contemporary cinematic grammar from start to finish. Dea Kulumbegahivili's film expresses its narrative through visuals (fascinating cinematography of Arseni Kachaturan) and music (young award-winning composer Matthew Herbert) minimally relying on spoken dialog.

Early in the film, we see a mysterious inexplicable somewhat-human ash-colored grotesque figure from the rear without clothes, breathing heavily heading towards water-bodies in semi-darkness. Initially nothing is explained to the viewer except that the heavy breathing on the soundtrack resembles human breathing. Cinephiles will recall the image of the literal goat-headed, horned figure of a devil with an arrow-shaped tail, carrying a toolbox, entering a sleeping household in Mexico in Carlos Reygadas' Post Tenebras Lux (2012) at night. Reygadas' followers inferred that unusual surreal image to be an allegorical representation of the entry of corruption into an innocent family's house bypassing sleeping children in their bedroom enroute to their parents' bedroom. Both the Mexican and the Georgian films begin with visuals of rain and mud. In both films, the images only make sense to a perceptive viewer as the film's narrative progresses, forcing the viewer to connect earlier images with the information provided much later, helping put the earlier mysterious sequences in context. Both the Mexican and the Georgian directors are reinforcing a film grammar rarely used in commercial cinema, but had existed in bits of the early works of Bunuel (e,g., Un Chien Andalou,1929) and of Herzog (e.g., the visually stunning flow of rats in Nosferatu the Vampyre made in 1979).

In the Georgian film, April, the bizarre opening sequence is linked with an early incident in the life of  Nina, a gynecologist in a government hospital, who is the film's main protagonist, revealed much later in the film  when as a young girl she was scared stiff to rescue her female friend who was drowning in a water-body. That inaction on her part scars her moral conscience in diverse ways. First, she rejects a possible marriage with a male gynecologist, who likes and appreciates her as a person and as a very capable and trustworthy colleague at work. 

Subsequently Nina, now a gynecologist sets on a somewhat secret mission to help poor women in rural Georgia, who get pregnant in non-consensual situations to abort their fetus as hospitals do not allow abortions in that country. This is Nina's personal, discreet way to make amends for her inaction to save her friend from drowning while pleading for Nina's help. Nina's chosen double life is akin to the secret lives of the fictional Batman and Superman though in her case not to fight evil forces but to help those who have no succor. Like the comic book superheroes, the film does not indicate that Nina's secret night life is to earn any additional income; it is truly gratuitous--traveling long distances alone in her car, with full medical accessories required to conduct an operation at night, to help the helpless.

Nina prepares to abort the fetus of a physically/mentally
challenged lady, impregnated without consent, on a dining table
of a family with limited resources

The cinematic grammar of April is akin to verbal punctuation in a written work, only using visuals and sounds to provide additional information beyond the minimal spoken narrative for the attentive viewer. The somewhat-human, ash-colored grotesque figure re-appears in the film at crucial junctures in the narrative. Even a bicycle ridden by Nina's colleague is captured by the camera's vision indoors to indicate the importance of the location of the shot with the grotesque figure being held by Nina's colleague just as lovers would. Then there are sequences with spring flowers growing in April in the Georgian rural landscape in happier sequences and with ominous clouds and thundershowers as precursors to difficult scenarios--each chosen to complement the narrative with care.

Nina's dream sequence, where the mysterious grotesque
human figure is held by Nina's senior colleague,
who once hoped to marry Nina. His bicycle appears in the
right-hand corner, accentuating the location, as the hospital

The main tale of April includes the dramatic charges levelled against Nina's official work within the hospital made by a parent that his child died in the hospital due to Nina's negligence during childbirth. The viewer of the film awaits the outcome of that inquiry, while the hospital authorities worry whether Nina's extra-territorial illegal  activities would come out in public or not and the consequences for Nina. 

A lonely Nina outside the office of the Head of her hospital
awaiting the outcome of an internal inquiry into an
allegation against her that her operation caused a child's death

The end of the film proves to be fascinating and thought-provoking, worthy of its Special Jury Prize awarded by the Venice film festival for film's director. While right-wingers would dig up the "Roe vs Wade" arguments in USA, this remarkable Georgian film is a delight essentially for the way it has been constructed, and the importance of respect one bestows on those few who place importance to their moral stance to help those that need one's discreet help above the controversial subject of the legality of abortions. Director Dea Kulumbegashivili has exhibited her talent as a filmmaker to the world in April and that has been recognized widely at diverse festivals around the globe. This talented director could emerge as a major force in East European cinema.

P.S. The Mexican film Post Tenebras Lux (2012) has been reviewed earlier on this blog, Click on the name of the film to access that review. April is one the best films of 2024 for this critic.