Saturday, January 8, 2011

SAUTE MA VILLE (1968)

next up is Saute ma Ville (1968), Belgian filmmaker Chantal Akerman's brilliant first short.

{1968, 13mins, 35mm, b&w, Belgium}

greatly inspired by Jean-Luc Godard et the joyful verve of French New Wave cinema, Akerman set about independently funding et making her first film, Saute ma Ville {Blow Up My Town} when she was only 18 years old. the result is an anarchistic, absurd, tragicomic, et exuberantly satirical film, it critiques the emptiness et unfulfilled domestic life of a young woman {a theme she will return to in her masterpiece Jeanne Dielman (1975)}.

the title of the film aptly expresses youthful angst, wanting to rebel, to destroy, to "blow up" the place you are forced to live in, nearly everyone can identify with that. Akerman enthusiastically attempts to live out this fantasy, Saute ma Ville is her film, her declaration to society as an 18 year old woman living in Brussels in 1968, that things need to change.


Akerman sets up the film in true Godardian fashion with a large title announcing RECIT {a small story, or personal account}, she then establishes the films location, a high rise apartment building {representative of mass cramped modern living}, we are quickly introduced to the young protagonist, Akerman herself, who rushes into the building carrying flowers, checks her mail, then frantically makes her way to her apartment, as if late for something. all the while on the soundtrack we hear her voice zestfully humming a tune, which uniquely plays out as the opening 'theme' music. once home she literally locks herself in the kitchen et begins to make herself dinner.

"Scotch!" a harsh voice repeats tauntingly as the main character begins to make dinner. this word is at first quite cryptic, just another crazy sound, but it is in fact a very significant word, the only word in fact that is spoken in the entire film. this is her inner-voice, jeering at her, to get on with it. Scotch significantly means; put an end to, smash, destroy, et we could go as far as blow up, et of course it also means cello-tape.

the main character then matter-of-factly begins to tape around the door frame, sealing it, scotching herself into the kitchen, a gesture that signifies she is in the process of putting an end to her own life, she is obeying her inner voice. but Akerman puts a brilliant comic touch to this disquieting sequence, as she tapes the door frame, she repeatedly pauses et takes large bites from an apple, the loud crunching sounds add to the absurdity of the situation.


Akerman discerningly portrays the act of suicide as just another banal ritual, like having to make dinner or polish shoes. her character indifferently goes about her preparations for suicide while making dinner et mopping the floor. it is reminiscent of Godard's treatment of torture in Le Petit Soldat (1963), he de-dramatizes it to shows torture as a banal everyday process for the torturers. here Akerman elicits humor from the absurdness of her characters awkward preparations to asphyxiate herself in her kitchen, as well as blow up her apartment for good measure, after having just cleaned it!

Saute ma Ville is a very 'performative' film, it is a solo performance, et significantly, Akerman places herself in the lead role, this is something she will subsequently do throughout her career, effectively affording her films a level of authenticity et keen sense of self-examination.


the film is staged critically in one location, a cramped kitchen, which acts as a kind of 'domestic theatre'. the camera takes an observational approach, it regards et follows the main character as she performs her domestic chores within the tight space. there is often an ungainliness to Akerman's performance, a clumsiness, mixed with her constant horsing around, gives the film a slapstick nature, reminiscent of Chaplin et Tati, which only adds to the absurd et tragicomic tone of the film.
 
her exuberant spontaneity mixed with the films slightly unpolished quality give Saute ma Ville its youthful charm. this is something Akerman would dispense with in her subsequent films, establishing a more formal et rigid aesthetic.

throughout the film the main character grows more et more unstrung, her movements et gestures become frantic, her behaviour more erratic. something has clearly snapped, the overwhelming thought of a lifetime of domestic servitude is too much for her.

in one such sequence Akerman deftly turns the daily ritual of polishing her shoes into a devastating feminist critique. she begins to polish her shoe, then her sock et finally her leg, absent-mindedly at first et then gleefully with broad manic scrubbing gestures. the main character is like a child who refuses to stay within the lines of a colouring-in drawing, she refuses to adhere to societies outmoded routines any longer. Akerman's performance in this sequence et much of the films themes et attitudes evoke feminist performance et body art of the late 1960s-70s.
it is impossible to talk about Saute ma Ville without addressing its highly effective soundtrack. Akerman uniquely dubbed most of the film with her own voice, utilizing any et every sound that pops into her head; humming, murmuring, babbling et other child-like sound effects.

Akerman's child-like wordless singing, produces a unique form of 'sound' music, there is even a 'theme' tune of sorts. humorously at times her voice gets overexcited et falters, sounding almost out breath, other times it becomes bored, et takes on a more agitated tone. the sounds are usually synchronised with the drama, relating to what the main character is doing. it reflects her unstable personality, at times it is innocent et whimsical but then it becomes irritated et taunting, signally the characters growing agitation.

in many ways Akerman's use of her dubbed voice allows her to represent the solitude et loneliness of the main character, humming is usually done when you are alone, or you're excited about something, or when performing menial tasks as a way to distract yourself.


the mirror has a strong symbolic role in the Saute ma Ville, as a device that enables self-awareness, et as a symbol of 'beautification', the mirror is where women make themselves beautiful et 'presentable' before they go out into society. Akerman is critiquing the role of the mirror in women's lives, she makes its indifferent reflection complicit, a witness to her characters actions et subsequent suicide.


there are three important moments in the film that occur in the mirror, the first, Akerman's character sitting on the floor, abruptly catches sight of herself in the mirror, there is a moment of uncertainty, she is asking herself if she is really going to go through with it, then resigned to the fact, she breaks the gaze et proceeds to tape up the windows frames.

the second time is when she is dancing about hysterically, rubbing lotion on her face et laughing deliriously, Akerman once again catches sight of herself in the mirror, but this time she makes direct eye contact with the camera, with the audience, it is as if she is saying, you could stop this. she slaps herself, then disgusted by her reflection, she angrily writes something on the mirror {which we cannot make out}.

thirdly when she ignores the mirror, breaking the spell, she goes over to the stove, sets a piece of paper on fire, then turns the gas on, a voice on the soundtrack disturbingly makes the sound of gas hissing as it leaks into the room, this is mixed with the crackling of burning paper.

the film ends with a long shot filmed in the mirror, as a reflection, slumped over the gas stove, flowers grasped in her hand, a symbol of beauty et innocence. we wait with her, forced to watch her in the mirror, waiting for the inevitable ... bang! all goes black, interestingly rather than an explosion, Akerman chooses to unleash a hail of gunfire on the town, a possible reference to Godard's Masculin Feminin (1964) which also used gunfire sound effects metaphorically/politically.

the films 'explosive' suicidal ending also evokes Godard's Pierrot le Fou (1965), a film Akerman has cited as being the reason she became a filmmaker, so in many ways the ending is an homage, but comically, one that happens "off" camera. after the gunfire subsides, the films closing credits are cheerfully read aloud by Akerman, this is effectively her final nod to Godard, a reference to his opening credits in Le Mépris (1963).

******

you can watch Saute Ma Ville below, it is in two parts however.

No comments:

Post a Comment