(Fwd) Review: _Mat' i syn_ (_Mother and Son_)

[Benjamin Sher]

------- Forwarded Message Follows -------
Date:          Sun, 1 Mar 1998 02:24:50 EST
Reply-to:      Discussions on all forms of Cinema <CINEMA-L at AMERICAN.EDU>
From:          CBussiere <CBussiere at AOL.COM>
Subject:       Review:  _Mat' i syn_ (_Mother and Son_)
To:            CINEMA-L at AMERICAN.EDU

_Mat' i syn_
(US title:  _Mother and Son_)
(UK title:  _Mother & Son_)

1997 - Russia / Germany
In Russian with English subtitles

PARTIAL PRODUCTION CREDITS
Producer:  Thomas Kufus
Director:  Aleksandr Sokurov
Writer:  Yuri Arabov
Cinematographer:  Alexei Fyodorov
Editor:  Leda Semyonova
Music:  Glinka, Nussio, Verdi

CAST CREDITS
Mother:  Gudrun Geyer
Son:  Alexei Ananischnov

_Mat' i syn_ is a 73-minute meditation on the extraordinarily close
and compassionate relationship between a dying woman and her
adult son.  Described by one critic as a "reverse Pieta," the film
portrays part of a day in the shared life of the two characters.

The mother and the son, who have no given names, share a dacha
in the woods somewhere in 19th century Russia.  Suffering from
an unknown terminal illness, and occasionally in great pain, the
mother is too weak to walk or to feed or otherwise care for herself.
Her son carries and feeds her.  When she is thirsty, he gives her
liquids from a baby bottle.

The pair shares an unusual physical closeness and a deeply
spiritual bond.  Because of the mother's illness and weakness,
their roles are frequently reversed such that the son becomes
the parent, nurturer, and caregiver, and the mother becomes
the child.  Thus, when she naps, he lies down on her bed and
naps with her.  He also holds, embraces, and caresses her,
much as one holds and cuddles a baby.  Spiritually, the two
are so close that they dream the same dreams.

Despite the mother's total dependency on the son and the
resulting constant proximity of the two, their relationship is
characterized by a profound mutual respect.  From their
conversations, which comprise the film's only dialogue,
one learns that even though their relationship has always
been close on many levels, it has not always been without
its difficulties.

Sokurov wrote about the relationship between the two characters
in the program notes of last year's Moscow International Film
Festival:  "For me it is the love which is important in this
relationship---namely the kind of love which is serene, and does
not need to search elsewhere; a love in which two people are
very careful about how they treat each other."

(In addition to Moscow, where _Mat' i syn_ won the critics' award
for best Russian film, the film won two critics' prizes at the 1997
Berlin Film Festival.  During 1997, the film screened in the United
States at the Telluride, San Francisco International, and New York
Film Festivals.)

Apart from the gentle and touching nature of the story and its
characters, the beauty of this film lies in its pace, its photography,
and its sound.  Paced very slowly indeed, the story plays out
gently, poetically, and almost in real time.  This careful, deliberate
pacing lends the film what one critic has called its "incredible
stillness."  The pace also imbues the film with a great reverence
for its characters and their relationship.  Both the pacing and
its substantive effects on the film are reminiscent of Tarkovsky's
similarly slow-paced work (see, e.g., _The Sacrifice_ and
_Nostalghia_).

Photographically, the film alternates between tight shots of its
characters and wide, expansive eye-level and aerial shots of
the countryside and the sea.  The film is shot in color, but its
colors are subdued and often washed out.  Interestingly, a
number of scenes are shot through mirrors.  Other scenes
are shot through filters of painted glass placed in front of or
behind the camera's lens.  The resulting mild distortion and
blurriness give the film its dreamlike and painterly qualities
which, in turn, add further to the film's qualities of stillness
and other-worldliness.  Indeed, Sokurov apparently deliberately
sought to evoke the style and natural imagery of Caspar David
Friedrich, the 19th century German romantic painter.  In its
expansive exterior shots, the photography is also reminiscent
of Angelopoulos' films (e.g., _Ulysses' Gaze_).

In terms of sound, the film contrasts the low and quiet speaking
tones of its characters with heightened and amplified sounds
of nature---the rush of wind through trees, the gurgle and babble
of a running creek, the breaking of waves on the seashore.
Against this great natural outer world, the inner emotional world
of the mother and son is very small.

Both actors bring an unusually high degree of understated
authenticity to their roles.  A friend of Sokurov and professor
of comparative literature at New York University believes this
is because the actors are not "professional" actors, in the
sense that they don't make their primary livings as actors.
Geyer works in documentary films in Germany.  Ananischnov,
whose family Sokurov has known for a long time, manages
a Pepsi plant in St. Petersburg.  Ananischnov also appeared
in Sokurov's 1988 film _Dni Zatmeniya_ (_The Days of Eclipse_).
Regardless, or perhaps because, of their "non-professional"
backgrounds, both actors bring a depth and sensitivity, together
with a complete absence of sentimentality, to their portrayals
that is rarely seen in films, especially in films of such little
conventional action and dialogue as this one.

There are no characters in the film other than the mother and
the son.  Yet there are indications of human life outside the little
world of the dacha and its immediate environs:  A long shot
of a train periodically crossing a valley in the distance, and an
aerial view of a three-masted schooner in full sail just off the
coastline.  By this visual contrast of the ongoing course of
the outside world with the small, private world of mother and
son, the film articulates one of its opening lines and perhaps
one of its themes.  As the film opens, the son is recounting to
his mother a dream in which he was searching, unsuccessfully,
for some words.  The mother supplies the words which are, in
effect:  "God only exists in my consciousness.  He does not
extend outward to the world in the ordinary course of things.
This imperfection makes my heart heavy."

Like many of the films of Alain Resnais, especially _Providence_,
_Mat' i syn_ is a filmmaker's film.  It comprises a story that cannot
be told in its entirety and completeness in any medium other than
film.  For this reason, the very act of watching the film is an
immensely pleasing and deeply satisfying aesthetic experience.

Cynthia


Cynthia Bussiere
CBussiere at AOL.Com
San Francisco, California

Benjamin Sher
Russian Literary Translator
Email: sher07 at bellsouth.net
http://personal.msy.bellsouth.net/msy/s/h/sher07/