Started by jenkins, April 20, 2019, 01:05:06 AM
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Quote from: Lowery on Nerd Party"No one knows. That's the case with everything at the moment. No one knows anything," said Lowery. "All I can say is that at some point audiences will see it. And they'll see it in the best way possible, given the circumstances. Hopefully, that's in theaters. Hopefully, theaters survive. I'm a big-time defender of the theatrical experience, and one of the things I love about A24 is that they are as well."However, if the film is destined for a VOD release, the filmmaker is okay with that, as he'd rather have his film be released on demand than not released at all."If I were just an audience member and I've been stuck at home for six months and I wanted to see a new movie, I'd rather see it at home than not see it at all. So I'm confident that it'll be seen soon, but 'soon' is variable," he explained.That being said, there is a silver lining to this whole situation for Lowery. He also said that the fact that he didn't have to rush to turn in a cut by SXSW in March wasn't such a bad thing."We were really rushing to try to get done by SXSW, and the movie, if we showed it there, would not have been fully finished. It would have been close, but not quite done," said the filmmaker. "If we had to release the movie tomorrow, it would be pretty close to where it needs to be. But we're able to take a breather and sit with it."So, will "The Green Knight" hit VOD next month or theaters six months from now? No one knows. But at least we're confident that when it does, Lowery will have had plenty of time to get the film exactly how he wants it
QuoteA key to understanding this presence of the medieval within the contemporary can be found in a brief but brilliant essay by Peter Wollen titled “Delirious Projections”. (1) Coming to terms with a clutch of films released throughout the 1980s and the early ‘90s, from Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982) and Terry Gilliam’s Brazil (1985) to Tim Burton’s Batman Returns (1992) – films featuring “fantastic cities” in a 20th century cinematic tradition that also includes Metropolis (1927) and the original King Kong (1933) – Wollen diagnoses the flourishing of a rampant Expressionism that seems rather more than an obligatory nod to the style-conscious, often superficial postmodern appropriations common to the present-day moment. Indeed, “the return to Expressionism seems only a retro-fitted way-station on the long path back to medievalism”. Wollen concludes:It is as though the polarisation and disorder of society has led to a situation where melodrama, with its lurid polarities of innocence and evil, or the grotesque, with its juxtaposition of the rotten with the lofty, are more representative of the city in a post-modern age than they have been for decades. As we leave behind the values of the Keynesian welfare state, we find the need for a new aesthetic which surfaces, like the Penguin and his gang [in Batman Returns], in startling and unexpected ways. [...]For much progressive cinema since the 1970s, such exploration of the blatantly intermedial – darting between and complicating the perceived poles of the theatrical-artificial and the cinematic-real – begins with Éric Rohmer’s remarkable adaptation of Chrétien de Troyes in Perceval le gallois (1979) – but an equally potent starting point, less known outside its country of origin at the time, could have been provided by Manoel de Oliveria’s work in that period, such as Amor de Perdição (Doomed Love, 1978). In these films, we see the flowering of a particular inflection of the archaic-innovative approach: the appeal (however re-imagined or reinvented) to a medieval aesthetic provides a way of inventing a cinematic modernity (or later, from the ‘80s inwards, a mannerist post-modernity). The literary weight of recited text is insisted upon; the action stops for a song or dance or intermedial demonstration of some sort. And theatrical artifice – whether the literal stage sets visible everywhere in Oliveira’s work or the wonderful constructed-painted unnatural backdrops in Perceval – is proudly displayed and explored at every turn, creating all manner of deliberate anachronisms within the conventions of historical depiction. Raúl Ruiz’s work, too, goes increasingly in this direction, especially in a multi-layered fiction such as Combat d’amour en songe (Love Torn in Dream, 2000).There is a large pool of fascinating cinema which has yet to be fully discussed in this neo-medieval light: apart from key figures already cited, such as Green and his artistic mentor Bresson (whose Lancelot drew from praise for its kinship to the modernist medievalism of e.e. cummings’ poetry), there is also the Trilogy of Life by Pier Paolo Pasolini (Il Decameron [I1971], I racconti di Canterbury  and Il fiore della mille e una notte [I1974]), the historical fantasias of Sergei Parajanov (Tini zabutykh predkiv [Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors, Russia 1964, Sayat nova [Colour of Pomegranates, 1968) and Walerian Borowczyk (Goto, l’île d’amour , Blanche ), or Hans-Jurgen Syberberg with his transposition of Wagner’s opera version of Parsifal (1982) – among much else.Rather than the endless seesaw between stateliness and spontaneity, these films reflect the influence of another major historiographical approach: they seek to exaggerate, rather than to eliminate, the strangeness of the past, its alienness and unreadability – its alterity – in relation to our present-day codes and mores.