AMO a ese Psiquiatra

Existen pasajes de películas que son... de película. Existen personajes, conceptos de lenguaje cinematográfico, composiciones de fotografía, narrativas de películas que también son de película. En este caso, nos toca un psiquiatra que vive en 'La Comedia de la Vida' (Du Levande, Roy Anderson, 2007). Este doctor de la mente conoce a los demás y sabe dónde está su problema. Lo destacaré a lo largo de su diálogo, que presenta su opinión, pero presenta mucho más a los demás.

(afuera llueve y trona fuertemente. El doctor Lars Johansson va por por el pasillo de nosocomio a su consultorio. En el camino, un paciente le grita:)

-¿Puedo preguntar una cosa? Lars Johansson!
-Tranquilo. Llamamos. - le dice el Doctor
-Buenos días! - dice el doctor a la enfermera.
-Buenos días! - contesta ella.

Johansson comienza a decir mirando a cámara:

- Uy, uy, uy. Soy siquiatra. Lo he sido durante 27 años. Pero estoy agotado. De escuchar a pacientes durante año tras año que no estan satisfechos con su existencia, que quieren pasarlo bien, que quieren que les ayude con eso. Eso acaba con las fuerzas, puedo decir. Yo mismo no lo paso bien. Las personas desean mucho... A esa conclusión he llegado tras muchos años. Anhelan ser felices y al mismo tiempo estan ocupados en sí mismos, son egoístas y tacaños. Quiero ser sincero. Me gustaría decir sencillamente: malvados la mayoría. Gastar hora tras hora conversando para conseguir que un hombre malo sea feliz. No tiene sentido. No funciona. Así que lo he dejado. Ahora sólo prescribo pastillas. Tan fuertes como sea posible... Así son las cosas'.

En pocas palabras, un hombre que conocía las cosas y distinguía entre lo que vale la pena, lo que no, y lo que es un absurdo completo. Un perspicaz. Alguien que entiende que la gente no es, pero aún quiere ser... (y esa diferencia es tan enorme que saberla cambiaría por completo todo). El mezquino, quiere ser feliz. Si no lo fuese, no pediría serlo, porque lo sería (o tendría la dignidad de estar trabajando para lograrlo). El mezquino que quiere todo y no da nada, merece pastillas (después de todo, no le da para que eso...). Cuando la vida está más allá de uno y de las cosas que desvelan a estos pacientes, las pastillitas aburguesadas son su mejor prescripción.


Quiero a ese psiquiatra. Con él sería realmente terapéutico atenderse y un acto de honor brindarle confianza.

The Seventh Veil

Unfortunatelly, they are still in there...

There's movie dialogues that have no match at all... may be is not just the words and the message, but also the performers, or the whole picture in wich they are include... even the cinematographic composition as a whole. So would be all those components wich make them so, so amazing. Otherwise, could just be only the good hand of the scriptwriters. Whatever be the reason, the british film The Seventh Veil, directed in 1945 by Compton Benett, has one of the best dialogues about human condition and what it turns out in front of others. Let's now make those lines talk for themselves:

[Before that, and in order to catch the meaning of this dialogue, let's only say a few introductory words (in case you don't see the movie I won't spoil nothing of it): The patient is a concert pianist who is almost catatonic, but this condiction is only psicological since she hasn't got another kind of organic injure to become in that state. Her doctor, Doctor Larsen, in the flesh of a very young Hebert Lom, is the one who tells in the asylum to Doctor Kendall:]

Doctor Larsen: -She does not speak at all if you question her? 

Doctor Kendall: -She doesn't answer. One will think she didn't hear if one doesn't know what she does.

Doctor Larsen: -She would talk to me. I should like to exame her under hypnosis.

Doctor Kendall: -Rather she is not cooperating under narcosis. And you really thinking it will help?

Doctor Larsen: -It may do. At least it'll tell us the nature of the injury to her mind. 

Doctor Kendall: -I know you fellows get remarkable results but I can't say I altogether like it. It seems a little prying. You see what I mean, Dr. Kendall.

Doctor Larsen: -The surgeon doesn't operate without first taking off the patient's cloth. Or nor do we with the mind. You know what the staple says: the human mind is like Salome at the begining of her dance. Hiden from the outside world by seven veils - veils of preserve, shyness, fear, that would go with friends. The average person will drop first one veil, then another, maybe three or four together. With a lover, she would take the fiveth, or even the sixth, but never the seventh. Never, you see: The human mind likes to cover its nakeness also to itself in order to keep its privicy. Salome drops some of hers but you never get a human mind to do that. And that's why I used narcosis. Five minutes on the narcosis and down to the seventh veil. Then we can see what is actually going on behind. Then we can really help... I'll be back tommorrow at 3 o'clock. You have the patient ready please, and goodbye. Dr. Kendall.

Seems that Doctor Kendall used a good metaphor to say how this cage above our shoulders work... didn't he?

Apocalypse Lighting

Besides a really good handbook, Stephen Prince’s book Movies and Meaning. An Intro to Film (Pearson, 2010) is totaly fair to lots of cinema expressions – all took by different aspects like framing, lighting, script, and etcetera. Let’s remark a Prince's pointing out for Apocalypse Now case, for instance. Briefly but accurately the book retrieves Vittorio Storano’s work (for those who haven't heared anything of him, this man is one of the best pictorial designers in movie history) in Coppola’s version of deightful Conrad’s book The Heart of Darkness. He really achieved the darkest side of the human heart – if we include the possibility of war as an intrinsic component in that complex muscle.

We all remember how the history goes: a completely insane ‘Nam’ soldier named Kurtz - also renegade with the USA Government, had built up a huge evil machine in the end of nowhere… or the very heart of darkness. The military base in charge decides a gate out not very legal but rather effective: send a so call Willard to murder Kurtz and ends up with the whole thing the soon as possible. The narrative place of much part of the movie refers to Willard’s trip, obviously to raise audience expectative about what will he do when he eventually meets Kurtz… The main interest is exploits Willard’s final decision: either accomplishes his mission and goes back to another mission or falls in the temptation of join his alike leaded up by his own not precisely good character… This was probable since they already had a mutual characteristic which may become a place for a fraternal bond: their capability to murder people. In this right time is when Storano appears and give us the visual effect throughout those two men. Given that their nature was alike why wouldn’t be their surrounds? And this is the very reason for those notorious shoots of Brando’s Kurtz face half in light and the other out in complete shadow… Just like character’s soul, endlessly struggle in its inner occidental dichotomy between good and evil (only here was evil which had eventually prevailed).

This leads to another visual decision: make that nature sameness also showed in Willard’s shoots. What better way that brings out Willard’s soul showing him in that partially eclipsed face? At that moment we got in the conclusion Willard was finally became Kurtz kind. In the narrative dimension, Coppola wanted to resolve this passage in a scene where Willard faces former Kurt’z army with his own face lit like Kurtz one. Sadly, all isn’t like director commands: after usual screening tests the studio asked Coppola to change that final scene. So Coppola took out his final for the studio’s ‘wished’ by making Willard sort of got over his unpleasant task nature and simple leaves Kurtz domains. Of course, this damaged Storaro’s work… but not his talent. It stay spotless in spite of studio commercial interests and the prove were other outstanding works like Reds or The Last Emperor…

Oh! I almost have forgotten: to some that last time modification in Coppola’s movie could have a one more negative thing, by turning the movie less coherent in narrative terms (whether be or not, I celebrate the book have pointed out the excellent Storaro’s work).

As I always like to say, there’s people who does their work in a terrific way… and Storaro certainly did it.