I Decide the end, the Goddess said. Silent Light.

caballero reyes

The Living Force
Silent Light (2007) (Mexico) Dir. Carlos Reygadas. The end of the movie is amazing.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QKRjimgCKSI

From Wikipedia:
Silent Light (Plautdietsch: Stellet Lijcht; Spanish: Luz silenciosa) is a 2007 film written and directed by Mexican filmmaker Carlos Reygadas.

Silent Light begins with a long tracking shot of the sun rising over a beautiful plain. The protagonist, Johan, his wife, Esther and their children sit silently saying grace, after which each member of Johan's family departs from their home except for him. Once he is finally alone, he stops the clock on the wall beside him and breaks down crying. Next, Johan goes to work and discusses, with one of his colleagues, the fact that he is having an affair with a woman by the name of Marianne; he makes it clear to his colleague that his wife knows about the affair. Johan then leaves work to meet Marianne in a field, and they begin to kiss. In the next scene, Johan's children are bathing and playing along a riverbank while he and his wife watch. They call one of their children over to bathe her, and as they are doing so, Esther begins to cry; before the scene ends, the camera racks focus behind her to a purple flower, symbolically foreshadowing what is to come. Johan then tells his father about the affair, but when they step outside to discuss it, it is suddenly winter

Carlos Reygadas's films are known for their long sequences, slow rhythm, and use of nonprofessional actors. All the performers in Silent Light are Mennonites from communities in Mexico, Germany and Canada.

Review by Manohla Dargis:

The sun floods the wide sky in “Silent Light” like a beacon, spilling over the austere land and illuminating its pale, pale people as if from within. A fictional story about everyday rapture in an isolated Mennonite community in northern Mexico — and performed by a cast of mostly Mennonite nonprofessionals — the film was written, directed and somehow willed into unlikely existence by the extravagantly talented Carlos Reygadas, whose immersion in this exotic world feels so deep and true that it seems like an act of faith.....

It’s a gorgeous, innocent yet sensuous scene, a glimpse of the prelapsarian with a hint of the viper that Mr. Reygadas closes with a shot of a pink blossom, an image that begins as a blur of color and gently comes into focus. He holds on the image a few beats — much as he often does — not only because, I imagine, he wants us to appreciate its metaphoric resonance but also because he wants us to see its glory. There are a handful of ways to understand the meaning of “Silent Light,” words that I read as an allusion to love, but this is also very much a film about that ordinary light that sometimes still passes through a camera and creates something divine.
 
Silent Light or Absolute Miracle
An Interview with Carlos Reygadas at Cannes 2007 by Karin Luisa Badt

A striking division in the Cannes film festival this year: between films that offer dark, bleak (read: despairing, nihilistic) views of cruel reality and those that offer an imaginative breakthrough. We had films about abortion in Ceausescu's Romania (the Palme d'Or), and films about miracles that transform people lives, and give them a renewed will to love and live anew.
The most exceptional among the latter was Carlos Reygadas' Stellet Licht (Silent Light). The film features — in exquisite slow shots of the Mexican countryside, replete with golden wheat and wide blue skies — a family man who falls in love with another woman. He is wracked with pain about his decision to be both committed to his wife and passionately in love — his guilt exacerbated by the fact that he is a Mennonite — and yet he goes through with the affair.
In the most cinematic scene of the entire festival, the wife dies of grief, crouched in the rain, under wet leaves, while the sound of pounding rain goes loud and a red umbrella flies open and empty into the distance. Her husband carries her dead body in the rain to his truck, sobbing.
It is an emotionally riveting moment that grabs the audience and more then makes up for the slow beginning of the film (which put some spectators to sleep — and which it seems Reygadas will now edit in the released version). From here on, we are obsessed with Johan's grief, as he and his children say goodbye to the stiff whitened body of his wife, lying in a coffin, in a stark white room.
The mistress — in a surprise moment — asks permission to visit the corpse, and it is then that a miracle happens.
Director Reygadas was in the audience when it stood up in thunderous applause and gave him a standing ovation, much of the public screaming "Bravo" in tears. His film was the only entry at Cannes that received such an intense response. It shows, as he put later in our interview, that people are hungry for belief, for miracle, for transcendence. "I lived in Europe for twelve years," he later said. "I left because it is spiritually dead. People in Europe live in fear."

Here is the whole interview:

http://www.brightlightsfilm.com/57/reygadasiv.php#.U-6k7eN5P41

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"I lived in Europe for twelve years," he later said. "I left because it is spiritually dead. People in Europe live in fear."

Although I've never been to Europe, this seemed to me strong to express. then I remembered the series of circumstances that has been Europe, one war after another and it is clear that this affects people, in addition to the horrific oppression/ programs of the Catholic Church which, in many cities, seems to have in present time much influence as in Italy or France, then, reflection leads to the conclusion that director Reygadas is right to say that.

the Mennonites are considered sect, i wonder how these people are considered in France, or in other countries where the sects are prohibited.
 
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