Three Great Directors

I thought I would take some time to talk about a few of my favorite directors.

My high school music teacher introduced me to Woody Allen in the spring of 2000. The first Allen film I watched was Husbands and Wives. I watched it with the girl who would become my summer fling before I headed off to Cornell. I don't think she liked the film very much. She's married with two kids now; much can change in a decade. Every time I watch this film, I think of her and that magical summer after graduation. Maybe this is one reason the film has a special place in my heart.

When many people think of Allen, they think of him as a comedian who made funny films. I don't care much for his earlier stuff. I prefer his darker material; e.g., Crimes and Misdemeanors, Husbands and Wives, and Match Point.

Ingmar Bergman heavily influenced Allen, and many of Allen's films demonstrate this. These direct and indirect references compelled me to explore Bergman's oeuvre, starting with his most famous work: The Seventh Seal. This is probably the best film to start with, if you are not familiar with Bergman's work.

My favorite work by Bergman is a film called Winter Light. Everything about this film resonates with me. The cinematography. The acting. The austerity of the scenes. The bleakness. There is no doubt that most do not have the patience for this film, which makes me love it even more. It is slow and plodding. Nothing much happens in the way of plot. One reason I love Bergman—and Michelangelo Antonioni—is that they were uncompromising and authentic. I remember reading an interview with Antonioni. He said that when he wrote, he wrote for himself. He didn't see the point in writing for a particular "audience," since in his view, there wasn't one. The result is that the films may not be blockbusters, but they will almost certainly affect a small group of lucky people in a very profound way. I consider myself one of those lucky people.

I only discovered Antonioni a couple years ago. I believe I stumbled upon him while reading an article on Bergman. I can't remember exactly. Like Bergman's work, Antonioni's films are often difficult and deal with heavy themes. One interesting difference I have noticed between these two directors is their treatment of God. Bergman relates the disorienting absence of God, while Antonioni avoids God altogether, assuming His nonexistence a priori. Each of these approaches has its merits.

Ironically, both Bergman and Antonioni died on the same day in the summer of 2007. I remember hearing about Bergman's passing on NPR as I drove through Ithaca, NY. The interesting thing is that both Bergman and Antonioni would refuse to give this irony meaning, laughing it off as mere coincidence, as I do.

When I dive into the work of artists, I find myself thinking of them throughout the day, imagining how they would respond to various situations. When you are affected by someone's films (or any type of art, for that matter), you can't help being influenced by them to some extent, developing an intuition about their thoughts and actions even after they are dead. This is also why—after this intuition has been rightfully attained through time and patience—it's worth revisiting previous films and experiencing them on another level. I recently did this with Antonioni's The Passenger.

My favorite Antonioni film is L'eclisse. It's difficult to put into words how this film makes me feel. It contains one of the most beautiful and tranquil scenes I have ever viewed—the Verona scene, filled with the beautiful sounds of Giovanni Fusco.

In sum, I would start with The Seventh Seal for Bergman and then graduate to his "trilogy" from the early 1960s: Through a Glass Darkly, Winter Light, and The Silence. For Antonioni, I would start off with his "trilogy": L'avventura, La notte, L'eclisse. But then again, perhaps it's better to start with Blow-Up or The Passenger. I'm not sure.

I have no formal training in film. I've just felt my way around over the past few years. I don't know what is right or what is wrong when it comes to film, or to what extent the idea of a good film is an absolute that rises above subjectivity. It doesn't matter much to me, as long as I keep finding well-known and lesser-known gems that get me through the day.