THE FREETHINKER (Watkins, 1994)
New Yorker Video/Project X, DVD, Release Date Nov 6, 2007
Review by Christopher S. Long
Director Peter Watkins has spent a good
portion of his career challenging media conventions. His films don't
blur the line between fiction and non-fiction so much as they render
the distinction irrelevant, at least for his work. When he employs
documentary-like aesthetics in his historical fictions, he's not
trying to pull the wool over anyone's eyes, but rather to create a
unique mode of address that cuts through the artifice of mainstream
feature filmmaking. Any technique is fair game. Watkins “interviews”
working-class 18th-century soldiers as they prepare for the Battle of
“Culloden” (1964) and invites the friends and lovers of “Edvard
Munch” (1974) to address the camera directly. “The Freethinker”
(1994) sees Watkins continuing to refine his idiosyncratic strategies
in ever more complex and startling ways.
Watkins has never been shy about
discussing the challenges he has encountered in getting his films
produced and distributed. In order to shoot his script about the
Swedish playwright August Strindberg (a project initially
commissioned by the Swedish Film Institute in 1979), Watkins thought
way outside the box, all the way to Nordens Folk High School in
Biskops-Arno, Sweden, where the director and his students shot the
film over two years as part of a video production course he taught.
Watkins wrote the script, but encouraged his student cast and crew to
improvise and collaborate, prompting this description in the closing
credits: “The film is the result of collective work from
1992-1994... under the supervision of Peter Watkins.”
Even with the collective's
contribution, “The Freethinker” still bears a striking
resemblance to Watkins's masterpiece, “Edvard Munch.” Like that
film, “The Freethinker” is nominally a bio-pic about a celebrated
Scandinavian artist, in this case Strindberg. Like “Edvard Munch,”
the film jumps around in time, has characters that directly address
the screen, and employs virtually any technique needed to make each
scene work. However, “The Freethinker” creates an extra layer of
reflexivity beyond “Munch.” Anders Mattson, the actor who
portrays Strindberg, functions on at least three narrative levels.
First, he plays the character of Strindberg. Second, he acts as an
odd kind of narrator as he reads excerpts from Strindberg's plays,
referring to them as “Strindberg's” rather than “mine.”
Third, he appears as a version of himself, an actor playing a role in
a film.
The entire film also inhabits multiple
narrative levels. In addition to more standard re-enactments of
moments from Strindberg's life, we also see scenes from his plays
performed as they would have been in late 19th century
Sweden. The movie goes fully navel-gazing by portraying details of
its own production, as well as in sequences of a more indeterminate
nature, such as when a crew member appears on screen to interview
Strindberg... or perhaps Mattson. Further still, Watkins sometimes
breaks with his own words as printed on screen, often railing against
the injustices of the world's mass media (and quite persuasively,
even at his most hectoring.) At some points, critics even take center
stage to comment on the film's treatment of Strindberg. Add in the
film's complex chronological shifting (Strindberg “dies” with an
hour left to go) and you have a heady experience like few other
films.
It's an experience not easily digested
in a single sitting. The movie runs over four-and-a-half-hours, but
as with the lengthy director's cut of “Edvard Munch” (220 min.),
every scene feels essential. Watkins takes the road seldom traveled
by bio-pic directors, refusing to portray his artist as a lone
genius, but rather as a product, and a conduit, of the social and
political forces of his time. Strindberg the artist is also shaped by
his most intimate relationships, particularly by the original Miss
Julie, his first wife Siri von Essen (played by Lena Settervall).
Watkins's eye for socio-political detail can be downright exhaustive
at times, perhaps to a fetishistic degree. If you've ever wanted to
learn about the development of print journalism in 19th
century Sweden, then buddy, this is the movie for you.
The movie is shot on analog video, and
that look had a distancing effect for me at first, but once I became
accustomed to it, I was completely drawn in, as I am to virtually any
Peter Watkins project. The movie's treatment of Strindberg is so rich
and so finely-layered it has few parallels in cinema, save perhaps
for “Edvard Munch” or, in the realm of fiction, Fassbinder's
“Berlin Alexanderplatz.” At the same time, I'm not sure I can say
I really got to know Strindberg particularly well. “The
Freethinker” offers so much it reminds the viewer of the
impossibility of understanding a dynamic personality and vision in
the space of a mere four or five hours.
Video:
The movie is presented in a 1.33:1
aspect ratio. “The Freethinker” was shot on analog video (Beta
SP) so the transfer can't do much to make it look great. Bright spots
sometimes look overblown, and there's a dullness to the image that
can't be helped. It ain't pretty, but you get used to it.
Audio:
The DVD offers a Dolby Digital Stereo
audio mix. Optional English and French subtitles support the Swedish
audio.
Extras:
Hey, the movie's over four hours. Even
on two discs, there's no room for extras. The set does include a
16-page booklet with another self interview by Peter Watkins that's
definitely worth checking out.
Final Thoughts:
“The Freethinker” is another great
entry in “The Films of Peter Watkins” series from Project X/New
Yorker Video. These titles may be hard to track down nowadays, and I
haven't heard a whisper about any plans either to upgrade or
re-release any of Watkins' movies on disc, but I'd hate for this
series to wind up forgotten. I think Peter Watkins is one of the
greatest and, perhaps, most unfairly overlooked directors of the past
half century-plus, and the only way I can provide evidence for that
claim is to point you movies like “The Freethinker” and “Edvard
Munch.” And “Culloden” (1964). And “The War Game” (1965).
Oh, and “La Commune” (2000), which I would include as one of the
ten best films of the 21st century, if only I mistakenly
believed that 2000 was the first year of the 21st century.
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