Werckmeister Harmonies: A thrilling antidote to the Hollywood thriller
It can safely be said that Béla Tarr does not make films for the average filmgoer. In fact, one could argue that’s an understatement. A visual stylist of epic proportions, Mr. Tarr shoots his films on black and white film, edits in camera, and, most uniquely, his shots traditionally last an average of 3 minutes.
Mr. Tarr reached a high point with his stylistic choices in Werckmeister Harmonies, his 1999 film about the chaos and violence that erupts in a small Hungarian village when two sinister forces rear their ugly heads. While the description makes the film sound like a classic thriller, it is anything but a traditionally driven film. Beyond the structural differences discussed in our previous paper, Werckmeister Harmonies deviates from the Hollywood model in three important ways: it’s shot length, elliptical storytelling, and, most importantly, it’s largely passive protagonist.
The opening shot of Werckmeister Harmonies, which lasts a mesmerizing 9 minutes, defines a people and a character with astonishing clarity. As the camera pans away from a freshly distinguished fire, a group of drunken peasants come into frame. Mr. Tarr has opened in a bar on a late night somewhere on the Hungarian plain. What is being shown is largely pedestrian (a common theme for much of the film’s first act): drunks falling over, people chatting, and an irritated bartender trying to escort the men out.
But suddenly Mr. Tarr shows us something unexpected: a young (and sober) gentleman named Janos. Janos is being asked to explain something to the men, and so, by using the man as puppets, Janos illustrates a solar eclipse, highlighting the moment of absolute eclipse before moving onto the beautiful moment of the sun’s re-appearance. As this occurs, a piano piece begins to play which highlights the beauty Janos seems to find in the world. It’s a refreshing moment, a deviation from what is expected, and highlights the way that Janos, optimist and believer in the omnipotent, views the world.
Mr. Tarr follows up this wonderfully long scene with two more extended takes: a long shot of Janos walking down the street, and then a scene of Janos putting Gyorgi to bed. It is a scene that highlights two important aspects of the film:
1.It reinforces Janos role as the favorite son of the town, by showing his care and consideration for Gyorgi.
2.It highlights Mr. Tarr’s use of the long take, which deviates strongly from the usual use of the long take and from Hollywood filmmaking
Probably the most famous modern example of the long take in narrative filmmaking is Chantal Akerman’s Jeanne Dielmann, which uses the long take to highlight the soul crushing monotony and eventual derangement of a Belgian widow. Ms. Akerman’s long takes create an astonishing sense of anxiety and tension. Likewise, the current films coming out of Romania, dubbed by critics as ‘The Romanian New Wave’, use long shots to highlight the performances and tension, but mostly as a metaphor for the laborious process of change going on in the country that faced the most violent Eastern European revolution and is slowly finding it’s footing in the modern world.
I highlight to clarify Mr. Tarr’s use of long shot, which deviates from the Hollywood model in that the average Hollywood shot length is no more than a few seconds, but also because Mr. Tarr doesn’t use his long take in this case to create a palpable sense of anxiety or fear, but to highlight the pace of life on the Hungarian plain where the film takes place. Mr. Tarr doesn’t want us to simply feel or understand the process of time, but instead wants us to have experienced it by allowing the events which occur to his characters occur to us, without the use of visceral editing or image manipulation. A drastic difference from the Hollywood model, in which films such as The Bourne Ultimatum or Transformers has an ASL of 1.9 seconds.
Additionally, Werckmeister Harmonies features extremely elliptical, even oblique, storytelling. This is true from the very first frame: who is Janos Valuska? Why does everyone in the town love him so much? Why is he so well trusted? Mr. Tarr never spells this out for his audience. Additionally, he never exactly clarifies why everyone seems to begin to distrust Janos later in the film. The implication is that the insidious nature of the circus and its dangerous Prince has somehow worked their influence over the community, and a clear example of this is seen in the chilling hospital attack later in the film.
This leads to the film’s most prominent example of oblique storytelling, namely: what is the connection between Aunt Tunde’s political campaign and the arrival of the Prince? In a more traditional film, there would be a scene in which some kind of deal was made between the two entities, or a scene in which their opposition to one another would be shown, but neither of these occurs in the film. Certainly most audience members would crave closure on this point, but Mr. Tarr doesn’t seem eager to provide such answers. While trying to avoid conjecture, I think it has something to do with the nature of Hungarian and, indeed, Eastern European history, with it’s many conquerors and many agendas.
The prime illustration of Mr. Tarr’s elliptical and oblique storytelling, which comes directly from the shadowy nature of Aunt Tunde’s political campaign, occurs in the final few moments of the film. Janos, having been told to run away from the town by one of his relations, is running along the railroad tracks when a helicopter passes overhead. Janos’ eyes fill with fear and he freezes as the helicopter lands before him.
Cut to a hospital bed. Janos sits on it, unable to speak except to make short whimpering sounds, as his uncle Gyorgi explains that his home has been overtaken by Aunt Tunde and the police chief. In a frighteningly sad moment, Gyorgi whispers ‘nothing counts…nothing counts.’
Janos has indeed witnessed some horrible sights throughout the film, but the exact nature of his apparent madness is never explained. What has happened to him? Why was a helicopter dispatched to retrieve him? Moreover, is the helicopter connected with the military and Aunt Tunde’s politics? The implication is, of course, that it is, but it’s never made clear to us as an audience. The result? A much more unconventional, but also much more terrifying, example of storytelling.
Perhaps the most unconventional aspect of Werckmeister Harmonies is the character of Janos. Janos violates one of the most basic rules of a conventional Hollywood narrative film: the idea of the active character. Hollywood films demand a character that takes action, who saves the day. Collateral is a classic example of a film where a generally passive protagonist decides to take a risk and change something about their situation. They act.
This is not the case with Janos, who is constantly led around by his uncle Gyorgi and Aunt Tunde. He is manipulated and controlled, and not aware of it. Occasionally there is some degree of hesitation, particularly when Aunt Tunde convinces Janos to force his uncle to help with their political campaign, but Janos never takes a stand. Janos does appear to be taking action at one point, running away from the town, but only under the influence of his aunt Harrar, who tells him the military is looking for him and he must flee. Part of this inaction comes from Janos’ optimistic disposition, but it is also clear that Mr. Tarr is trying to highlight the roles of people who don’t fully understand the situation in which they are caught. By ignoring the traditional rules of character, Mr. Tarr creates an even more tragic story of someone in a world beyond their control.
Through his use of long takes, elliptical storytelling, and finally a non-traditional protagonist, Mr. Tarr creates powerful portrait of life on the Hungarian plain, but also what happens when sinister forces try to control it. His powerful use of these techniques takes a story that could have been a routine thriller and turns it into a more interesting study of humanity as a whole. Had this been a Hollywood film, it would have tried to build tension through cuts rather than building long takes, a clear relationship between the various forces at work in the town, and a protagonist who takes action against them. Instead, the film focuses on the human moments, and thus what happens when humanity is tested. It is a powerful idea made strong by its lack of adherence to traditional storytelling choices.
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