Amazing thing, Trier doesn't have average movies. It's either brilliant or disgusting. This movie is in the second category. The film is incredibly difficult to watch and it is better to prepare morally.
The director's early shorts are so bad that they are disgusting of cinema in general. The same goes for his debut, the mid-length Painting of Liberation. The visual component is a quiet horror, you don’t understand where you can get a camera like this to so degrade the overall quality. And all right, if it was just this, but there is also a completely knocked-down pace, driving you into quiet despair and causing a desire to rewind (of course you do not need to do so). And yes, his early work is completely meaningless. Whichever way you look, it’s still very, very bad. But there's one thing I'm not putting Medea 0 out of 10 for. The film looks like it was shot hundreds of years ago, like this cracked mural, a moldy book or something. For the first time in my life, I felt that the film was made long before the advent of cinema, its absolute foreignness is amazing. It's like looking at an old photo album that's faded a long time ago. Is 80 minutes worth it? In my opinion, yes, because you will hardly see it anywhere. My favorite paradox of the director, it seems to have shot terrible, but at the same time absolutely unique, it is possible that one day I will even be able to love this incomprehensible cast of another era.
4 out of 10
I watched Trier’s Medea, and I immediately remembered Pasternak Tsvetaeva’s letter for March 1926, where he confessed his love for her and her brilliant Poem of the End:
“Thus must the lips of the human genius, of this creature, move.”
“What a thrill you are reading!” You're playing tragedy. Every breath, every nuance is suggested. “Exaggerated – exaggerated that is”, “But at the hour when the train is served – handing”, “Commercial secrets and ball powder”, “So – not necessary, then not necessary”, “Love is flesh and blood”, “After all, chess pawns, and someone plays us”, “Parting, parting?” - (You understand, I mean whole pages with these phrases, so that: "I am no more than an animal wounded in the stomach by someone", "Already mentioned by chess")"
The whole set of these quotes from the Tsvetiev poem, which literally drowns in Pasternak’s letter, is about what Lars von Trier sees inside the Euripidean Medea. From chess Rock to wounded by love in the belly of an animal, from “trade secrets” of vulgar benefits, reason, calculations to parting as death, madness and an unprecedented crime. What a strange discovery. There's a lot of Columbus in Trier. Out of his mind... despite the fact that “Medea” is not the most passionate of his film, rather, bitterly tender.
The granularity of the image is achieved by re-shooting the image projected in the laboratory - the technique works to create an impression of the dilapidated world, a dream-noble archaic.
Unhealable and terrible anger arises when the enmity of people knocks down loved ones.
The film adaptation of ancient literature is, to put it mildly, not simple. It is very difficult to imagine a complete adaptation of an ancient work of art, which in its original form is replete with dynamic dialogues and lengthy monologues, in a cinematic framework. The team of filmmakers (writers, director and other participants in the filming process) must thoroughly enrich the desired story with all available theatrical tools that affect both the atmosphere of the film and the technical attractiveness of the events presented in it.
Lars von Trier, taking as a basis the unrealized script of the eminent filmmaker of the first half of the twentieth century Carl Theodor Dreyer, specifically revealed the tragedy of Euripides, concentrating the narrative on demonstrating the frightening and sinister potential maddened by jealousy Medea, hiding in the halls of a magically restless heart. Due to the fact that the picture, in fact, has a television format both in terms of visual appearance and in terms of budgetary possibilities, it could not fully convey the beauty and diversity of the creative idea of its author, who nevertheless squeezed the absolute maximum of those means at his disposal, which causes great audience respect.
To compare the film adaptations of Trier’s Medea and Pasolini, trying to determine whose work turned out to be more interesting and more correct from the point of view of a complete and accurate presentation of the essence of the original literary work, is meaningless and simply unreasonable. True connoisseurs of cinema will appreciate and equally appreciate the efforts of the directors in revealing the depth of the consequences of the most cruel actions of a cruel woman in relation to the innocents of this world (children), dipping into her inner world, literally (or still not?) "destroyed" from jealousy. Yes, Lars more strictly follows the text Euripides in contrast to Pierre Paolo, which prefers to cover the background of Medea; besides, the advantage of the work Trier is also the fact that he practically does not repeat those scenes that Pasolini demonstrated in his film, thereby forming the complete self-sufficiency of his own Medea, and the impeccable visualization of the operator.
The finale of this film is truly shocking not only because it differs from the literary version, choosing an even more frightening way of atrocity against their own children by a mad mother, but also because of its performance, a stunning meticulous realism that remains in memory for many years to come. I would very much like someday to get a chance to witness this amazingly gloomy and truly cruel film in a completely restored form, because the copies that have survived to date look frankly inappropriate to the content that is inherent in them. However, it is worth noting that this does not prevent with all seriousness and involvement to perceive the plot of this story in the fullness of audience attention.
Despite the fact that Trier in his picture immediately emphasizes that the idea belongs not to him, but to Karl Theodor Dreyer and Preben Thomsen, in my answer I will still use his name as the embodiment of the idea.
So it seems to me that the main difference between the works of Euripides and Trier is the image of Medea herself. If the ancient poet set as his main goal the description of the events of this tragedy as a whole, then Trier more carefully examines the inner world of the heroine. The director does not condemn, but in no case does not justify the heroine, he tries to understand her. And if the poet’s main tool for depicting feelings and thoughts are words, then Trier is helped by the play of actors.
If you notice that there are not many words in the film. This is a special merit of the director. Trier as one of the greatest directors of our time (there are 6 palm branches on his shelf!) found a unique way to portray his character. More screen time is not the crime itself - the murder of her children, but her emotional reflections and doubts, especially vividly conveyed thanks to camera work. The landscape plan of the desert, the “bleak” picture, sharp changes in plan – these works of the operator in synthesis with the works of the artist, composer and editor and give the picture an inexplicably special style of the director. Because I think Trier's films can't be confused with other films.
Lars von Trier did not show the audience Ajax at the highest level of frenzy, as did Euripides. However, the director perfectly managed to choose a moment when the viewer does not see so much visually as imagines the higher force of passion, even in the face, on which, as it seems, “nothing is written.”
So, he portrayed Medea not at the moment when she kills her children, but a few minutes earlier, when motherly love is still struggling with jealousy in her. We foresee the outcome of this struggle, we already shudder at the very sight of the stern Medea, and our imagination far surpasses anything that an artist could depict in this terrible moment. But the indecisiveness of Medea, which is imprinted in this work, does not offend us precisely because we rather wish that in reality everything should stop there, that the struggle of the passions should never cease, or at least continue until time and reason weaken the rage and bring victory to the maternal senses. We, the audience, without even noticing it, turn to the child killer, condemning her: “Do you constantly thirst for the blood of your children?” Do the new Jason and the new Creusa constantly stand before you and incessantly incite your malice?
But at the same time, the climax of the whole film I consider the episode when the eldest son comes to the mother who just killed his younger brother and asks for “help” him. We are also witnessing an increase in conflict. After all, the children themselves justify their mother. They understand. This is how the director allows the viewer to equally condemn, justify the heroine.
But I still believe that it is impossible to assess Medea's actions. Each individual (individually, for himself) decides whether she is a child killer or a victim. Sometimes a person’s opinions can change under the power of life experience, or even mood. Who knows what he would do if he were in the right place? It seems to me that this is the great merit of the tragedy of Euripides and its subsequent interpretations in books (for example, Christoph Wolff), in the cinema or in the theater. That's the right answer. Because Medea is the embodiment of the image of that woman who from antiquity to this day forever retains the conflict of sympathy and hatred.
Lars Von Trier doesn’t require a special introduction, even for people who are far from cinema. This brawler perfectionist has already gone very far and done things. All his life, the Danish director aspired to become special and unique in his kind, he revelled in the role of a renegade, a bastard and a jerk* - and this is what you need! - in many ways a unique state for the creator, since no one will want to try on such a role voluntarily. Lars Von Trier often talks about his multiple phobias, among which there is a fear of being like someone. So do not be surprised - he is absolutely comfortable to be hated by many, and better all.
I was very lucky because I watched this film as part of the exhibition “Trees Grow on Stones”, where the wonderful film critic, journalist and radio host Anton Dolin for forty minutes talked about the director himself and his third feature film “Medea”. Without the authoritative opinion of Anton and his interesting remarks, many elements of the film the first time and do not see.
The film is worth watching only if you are interested in the work of Trier! If you are a fan of ancient Greek tragedies and Eurepis or a fan of Danish classical cinema, then you should just pass by. Firstly, it is a television project, executed on a relatively modest budget and in the format of a 77-minute faded picture. Second, there is neither Greece nor any action. Third, it's rather boring and dull, experimentally and for yourself (for Trier). But with all this filmed insanely beautiful - for aesthetes just right, but again - in terrible quality. Here, Trier and cameraman Seir Brockman find incredible visual solutions, playing shadows, reflections and complex plans. They are also actively experimenting with projections. First, the sky was filmed, the sky was projected onto the wall, and already on this projection the actor plays a replica.
Greece is not here, as Trier takes the action to the gloomy Scandinavia, the world of kings and Vikings. The beautiful landscapes of Jutland are unpleasantly poor because of the etched colors. Someone believes that this creates the effect of a live “fresh”, but again the aesthetes know better – but the average viewer, I think, will hardly stand.
All his fears Trier either wins (or pretends?), or carefully disguises. And despite his fear of being like someone, he still imitates and looks for inspiration in other people’s works. Actors Karl Dreyer (the same script) and Rainer Fassbinder, water and horses of Andrei Tarkovsky. It is such a rabid desire to reach for the great ... and find your place in the height ... your own, only your own.
*- These epithets do not reflect my attitude towards the director.
P.S. Interesting comment from Anton Dolin. It's a spoiler, but I don't think there's anyone who doesn't know Medea's story. Carl Dreyer, working on the script, considered too cruel the scene of the original tragedy, in which the heroine slaughters her children. Medea was supposed to poison them. But Lars Von Trier went further, deciding to hang the poor children.
6 out of 10
In those days, when Maestro von Trier has not yet shocked the audience with idiotic orgies, natural-like cutting off of female genitalia and scandalous statements about Hitler, the Danish television released an adaptation of the unrealized script by Karl Theodor Dreyer based on the classic work of Euripides.
Thoughtfully, the camera wanders through the fragments of love of Argonaut Jason and Princess Medea, which are scattered along the cloudy windy coast. The mourning vestment of the heroine is wet from the measured tremors of indifferent waves and dripping tears, stained with algae, sand and black bile of hatred. Interrupting on the treachery of Jason and the criminal tricks of Medea, we again and again return from the dark dungeons to the sea wrapped in sandstorms and fogs. And the dialogue of the heroes continues – as if outside time and space, the confrontation of the male and female, the sensual and rational, the ghosts of the past and the ruins of the future, where even the tragic silence can sound like a shrill cry. An epic turned into a play with a bare nerve. The plot, deliberately blurred and pushed to the background in order to focus on her deep wrinkles, on his drooping head, on their hanged children.
Medea smells like honey. It is this feeling that arises if you miss the sweet-poetic monologues of the heroes and, covering your eyes, breathe in the amber-caramel color of the film. However, ancient Greek tragedy has never been so marginal and pretentiously Nordic. The sea is to blame. The endless raging kingdom of Poseidon, determining the life and fate of any Hellenic; not just the invariable pictorial background on which poets of bygone years drew tales of gods, Titans and heroes, but a practically living, thinking substance capable of both saving and destroying. But instead of the warm breeze over the azure waters of Corinth and the coastal heat of the sunny Colchis, only the cold Danish stones of the frozen earth and the murky icy grayness of the North Sea.
The director has always had a special attitude to the problems of emancipation, the conflict of patriarchal and matriarchal values, the self-determination of women in society and female psychology in general. In any von Trier film, we usually observe an exceptional female character, the strength and power of which often paradoxically lies in the primordial weakness and malleability of the heroine herself. Unsurprisingly, the tale of Medea aroused the interest of von Trier. The old story of a mother who put her pride and desire for revenge above the lives of her own children illustrates quite clearly the vicious ambiguity of female nature in the light in which the Dane used to see her. The image of Medea becomes a boiling pot into which hard heart, jealousy and envy are thrown in half with principledness, determination and willpower. The problem is that von Trier never said anything new, essentially abandoning bold innovative interpretations that go against the traditional understanding of the mythological plot.
However, around these years, a sour-sharp fruit named Lars, green on the spreading branches of Scandinavian cinema, began to pour ripeness and exude the subtle aroma of directorial personality. Its features, despite the skillful possession of a hand-held camera and readable curts towards Tarkovsky, were still far from turning into a provocative Manifesto of Dogma 95, and the lack of professional experience still prevented the embodiment of brilliant self-admiration under the banner of righteous misanthropy "Dogville" and "Melancholia". But already here, in the frames of Medea, a clearly outlined vector of a peculiar aesthetic vision of cinematic reality is clearly visible. The vector, which marked a selfless immersion in the psychological abyss of the spiritual tragedy of the characters. The very vector that led von Trier to the odious peaks of European author’s cinema.
Two years ago, some crazy woman threw her two children out of a window and then threw herself out. Jealous of her husband. "Crazy," colleagues said. "Medea," I thought.
From all sorts of interpretations of the image of the mysterious Colchis princess, Lars von Trier chose the most vital interpretation of the myth authored by Euripides, which thousands of years later still remains valid, turning into a banal household article in the news summary.
The heroes of ancient Greek myths, on closer examination, of course, frighten an inexperienced contemporary. Incests, fratricide and other costs of family relations there bloom and smell, sprouting some absolutely terrible kind of fruit. But despite rumors (thousands of years ago) that Medea Euripides attributed the infanticide to a bribe, the accuracy of getting into the image makes us doubt this. For money or without, but the author of the ancient Greek tragedy somehow isolated the essence of the nature of a determined, strong and merciless woman.
Is Medea crazy? Hardly. But unlike Trier, who shot his picture in hundreds of shades of dull, Medea does not recognize halftones. For her, there is either black or white. And so all the power of her love-feeling, which has become the cause of many atrocities preceding the story, is reborn into an equal in strength antipode. Her hatred is absolute and cold. It is not a crime in the state of affect, it is the only outlet of consciousness that does not recognize compromise. Medea is not in vain endowed with magical abilities - this distances her from mere mortals with their possibilities of humility and forgiveness. Medea has neither the one nor the other, in the strength of her passions she is rather an ancient deity, and therefore can pardon and, in her case, more correctly, execute. What she does is not even revenge. She takes back what she so generously gave to a person who did not appreciate either this gift or herself.
The gloomy atmosphere and hypnotic effect created by the dim, fluctuating picture have become, if not perfect, then at least artistically justified way to visualize the entire heap of human suffering in question. The heroine herself - aged, focused on her own grief, magnificently played. Her symbolic gesture in the penultimate scene is liberation from the burden of trouble, and only then does her face finally distort the grief she carried within herself.
Very much.