The transcendental power of film

Transcendence is important to me. It's never had any spiritual connotations. So I don't do any Buddhist or Hindu 'transcendental meditation' or anything of the sort. The need to be taken to a higer state of consciousness, and being taken beyond one's usual range of perceptions, is something that ameliorates the boredom of hum-drum reality. I don't necessarily seek this through spirituality or new age philosophies; much 'art' is capable of doing just that.

For me, cinema is the medium most capable of awakening transcendental feelings. With a book, or a painting, or a play etc. you are concentrating far more to disentangle a semblance of narrative or a sequence of shapes. With cinema, this is less true. In many ways, you drift through the images and words. A cinema theatre is often synonymous with dreaming and, in many ways, that's true. The level of cognition is not as rigorous; the lights dim, you sit back and you are practically transported to a whole new realm.

The film directors who take me beyond these 'usual range of perceptions' tend to be more spiritual. These include Robert Bresson, Carl Theodor Dreyer and Andrei Tarkovsky. It's interesting that their religiosity is by no means orthodox. It's usually far more idiosyncratic and personalised. (Bresson described himself as a 'Christian Atheist', which might seem like an oxymoron to some.) Spirituality for these directors in many ways allows for 'a sense of wonder' and, perhaps more pertinenty to this blog post, unearths miraculous moments which defy logical scrutiny.

In many ways, these kinds of films centred around a 'miracle' lose their potency after the first viewing. This is probably why they don't figure as highly in the Sight & Sound polls. Unlike Citizen Kane, they aren't so technically rich and complex in a way that repays countless viewings. Films like A Man Escaped and Ordet, throughout their entire trajectory, lead to the great 'miracle.' Multiple viewings are thus rendered obsolete.

Ordet's final scene involves a dead woman lying in state coming back to life. The entire film, in a slow and methodical fashion, details the gruelling tribulations she endures before giving birth to a dead child. There is antagonism and ribaldry between this family, which is Catholic, and another protestant family. (If my memory serves me right - I might be wrong! It might be the other way round...) The couple's younger son is forbidden to date a younger girl from the opposite family. The protestant priest callously sees this woman's death as a punishment from God. The woman's husband is agnostic and rejects all these religious speculations. Another relative, after excessively reading Kierregard, goes insane and believes he is a new messiah capable of miracles.

Ordet, Carl Theodor Dreyer.

The Protestant and Catholic families congregate in the funeral procession. The son who sees himself as a messiah mutters grand words instructing her to wake up. She wakes up. The religious denominations are united and embrace one another. All rivalries dissipate. The agnostic renews his belief in God. This is an incredible and unprecedented moment because up to this point the film has played out in such a naturalistic way. There has been an emphasis on the squalor and the abject realism of these downtrodden characters. The 'miracle' indeed takes you to a higer transcendental plane.

As I said before, transcendence doesn't have to be religious! The transcendental power of A Man Escaped is alredy given away in its title. We see a WWII political prisoner who meticulously tries to escape from his prison cell. As ever with Bresson, all drama is reduced to its bare minimum. (Bresson, in fact, never hired professional actors, so as to reduce any semblance of theatricality.) No emotions are exhibited. The characters' poises are so nuanced in a way that conveys inner thought. Untypically for Bresson, this is his film with the most propulsive narrative. We have felt so attuned to the thoughts of this character, and have followed him so arduously through all his attempts at escape, that we are on the edge of our seats as he escapes from the prison cell.

A Man Escaped, Robert Bresson



When it comes to Tarkovsky, I will retract the statement that this kind of miraculous/transcendental cinema doesn't hold up to repeated viewings! His films, however, aren't entirely centred around 'one' miracle. My two favourite films of his, Andrei Rublev and Mirror, are so multi-faceted and complex that they lend themselves to repeated viewings. Although the casting of the bell in Andrei Rublev has the same quality as the two aforedescribed scenes, there have been far more layers of narrative. After Andrei Rublev's trauma, in which he renounces art, goes to a monastery and takes a vow of silence, we follow an adolescent boy who builds a bell without knowing the architectural formula (though he claims throughout that he does). There are also brilliant battle scenes with the Tartars which one can gorge oneself again and again! Mirror, meanwhile, is a film I can watch time and time again and come out enraptured. It's not a linear narrative film anyway; it's more of a collage. Its poetic quality and the beauty of the photography means that its transcendental power is more subtly expressed. The reason why it might not stand up against Citizen Kane is that it is so subjective. It lacks the kind of grandeur and universality of that film; it's more of a personal meditation.

Mirror, Andrei Tarkvosky