Andrej Wajda's Danton was mandatory viewing back in my schooldays. The consensus must have been that it was as good a film as any on the French Revolution's violent aftermath, a realistic look at a turbulent period that had important things to say about any revolution or extreme politics then and now. I don't remember enjoying my viewing experience at all. Something about it felt filthy, and almost two decades later, I understand the feeling much better.
Let's rewind a bit. Danton is far from the dusty historical film one might expect, and though the powdered wigs might put you off at first, the world on display could not possibly be further removed from the stately tableaux of, say, Barry Lyndon. This is a filthy, sweaty world on the brink of chaos, as dissimilar to Kubrick's masterpiece as Deadwood was to John Ford's Westerns, and though Wajda gives us leisurely dolly shots through both government sessions and disturbing scenes of street life, he also switches to a hand-held camera to emphasizes frequent bouts of frenzy.
Danton is not just about a clash of ideas - despotism vs freedom, democracy vs totalitarianism... - it is a clash of personalities: much has been made of Depardieu's whirlwind performance as the titular Georges Danton, but Wojciech Pszoniak's icy Robespierre is just as fascinating, playing a man made physically ill by his own moral single-mindedness, so rigid he might snap at any moment. It is all the more impressive because he spoke his lines in his native Polish only to be later dubbed into French - as was the case with many other characters. That his performance retains its power, and that his confrontations with Depardieu are so sparky despite this significant obstacle is nothing short of breathtaking. An early scene where the two leads attempt to reconcile over a meal is just one of many memorable highlights.
The performances give you a lot to latch onto in a film that doesn't bother with too much context, focusing instead on the kind of person and action it takes to undertake a revolution and its aftermath, as well as the kind of sordid behaviors and moral dilemmas involved in running a government, particularly a paranoid one the whole world's eyes were focused on at the time. It delivers meaty drama in spades, while raising questions that are very relevant today.
Perhaps that is what turned me off so much in my early teens. This is no romantic drama or heroic biopic. Though it has every ounce of technical proficiency of a Hollywood film, it has a very distinct character, and it positively reeks of death. The stench of murder and betrayal threatens to suffocate the film at any moment, making this viewing experience that as enthralling as it is draining.
Demanding but infinitely rewarding filmmaking!
Let's rewind a bit. Danton is far from the dusty historical film one might expect, and though the powdered wigs might put you off at first, the world on display could not possibly be further removed from the stately tableaux of, say, Barry Lyndon. This is a filthy, sweaty world on the brink of chaos, as dissimilar to Kubrick's masterpiece as Deadwood was to John Ford's Westerns, and though Wajda gives us leisurely dolly shots through both government sessions and disturbing scenes of street life, he also switches to a hand-held camera to emphasizes frequent bouts of frenzy.
Danton is not just about a clash of ideas - despotism vs freedom, democracy vs totalitarianism... - it is a clash of personalities: much has been made of Depardieu's whirlwind performance as the titular Georges Danton, but Wojciech Pszoniak's icy Robespierre is just as fascinating, playing a man made physically ill by his own moral single-mindedness, so rigid he might snap at any moment. It is all the more impressive because he spoke his lines in his native Polish only to be later dubbed into French - as was the case with many other characters. That his performance retains its power, and that his confrontations with Depardieu are so sparky despite this significant obstacle is nothing short of breathtaking. An early scene where the two leads attempt to reconcile over a meal is just one of many memorable highlights.
The performances give you a lot to latch onto in a film that doesn't bother with too much context, focusing instead on the kind of person and action it takes to undertake a revolution and its aftermath, as well as the kind of sordid behaviors and moral dilemmas involved in running a government, particularly a paranoid one the whole world's eyes were focused on at the time. It delivers meaty drama in spades, while raising questions that are very relevant today.
Perhaps that is what turned me off so much in my early teens. This is no romantic drama or heroic biopic. Though it has every ounce of technical proficiency of a Hollywood film, it has a very distinct character, and it positively reeks of death. The stench of murder and betrayal threatens to suffocate the film at any moment, making this viewing experience that as enthralling as it is draining.
Demanding but infinitely rewarding filmmaking!