on love, speed and carbon emissions
Carlos Reygadas’s Silent Light, Alexandre Koberidz’s What Do We See When We Look at the Sky?, Raymond Carver's What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, and Zombie Fungus.
4 Feb 23 | Vol 2 Issue 3
Next Sunday will be almost Valentines, for those of you who haven't thought about that object which expresses your devotion it will be too late. This is the Sunday to be thinking about love.
Last weekend I had what can only be described as an armchair epiphany — that seems grandiose at the time, but doesn't stand up to the slightest scrutiny. What occurred to me, while researching Elon Musk's private jet usage, is that the speed of a country's film narratives is in direct relation to its carbon emissions.
First off, I know about the correlation between global warming and pirates. Should you be unaware of this, the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster [1 ] uses a chart demonstrating this relationship as part of its fight against the teaching of intelligent design in American Schools. It's pretty easy to plot two points and draw a conclusion, such as the shrinking number of pirates and the rise in global warming [2 ]. Sometimes it's even true. Arghhhhhh m’ pasties.
I'm also aware that it's more likely the pace of life, causally linked to carbon emissions, that dictates the speed of a nation's film oeuvre. If I had said pace of life, you'd have simply nodded uhuh. Carbon emissions has a bit more drama to it.
So let's try...
Georgia CO2 tons per capita 2.14
South Korea CO2 tons per capita 11.85
United States CO2 tons per capita 15.52 [3 ]
Since we're talking about love this week, what better place to start than Raymond Carver's What We Talk About When We Talk About Love. It's become his iconic work, and is used in Alejandro González Iñárritu's Birdman to represent an unfilmable story. It contains all of Carver's main themes, ennui, the self realised ordinariness of life for most people, drinking, the hollowness of consumerism.
It also contains at its heart (see what I did there) one of the most romantic things I've read. You can spend five minutes and read it for yourself here genius.com/Raymond-carver-what-we-talk-about-when-we-talk-about-love-annotated, and/or peek at the spoiler below.
A long married couple are both involved in an horrendous car crash. Both are encased in plaster unable to move in any way. Although they are both on the same ward recuperating, the husband is depressed because he cannot turn his head to look at his wife. The terrible accident would mean nothing if he could just see her.
It is my favourite title. It is so perfect it almost doesn't need to have any story accompanying it. For almost this reason alone, the similarity in name was enough for me to start watching Alexandre Koberidze’s What Do We See When We Look at the Sky?
It's filmed in Georgia. Do not be fooled by the trailer. The editing in that will give you whiplash compared to the actual film. It challenges Carlos Reygadas as slow cinema. The other slight remaining reason is it's a magic realism love story. The antithesis of Carver's self realised ordinariness of life. Or so I thought.
I also thought that Silent Light was the s-l-o-w-e-s-t film I've ever watched. So much so that in our household Speedy Carlos has become the byword for an anti world Speedy Gonzales. It's all gone Speedy Carlos is shouted whenever anyone's waiting. C'mon Speedy Carlos. And other variants.
Silent Light directed by Carlos Reygadas
Let's test the hypothesis...
Mexico CO2 tons per capita 3.58
It turns out that Silent Light is not the slowest film ever. Shot entirely on location in the Mexican Mennonite community, each cast member using 3.58 tons of CO2 every year. What's probably even more remarkable about the film is it's a remake. Speedy Carlos must have seen Carl Theodor Dreyer's Ordet and thought to himself, that ending, it's rushed, it needs drawing out. It needs a six minute opening shot of the sunrise with no actors. It needs three minutes of a man crying at his kitchen table. Six minutes of the family washing in a water pool followed by a one minute shot slowly focussing on a flower. I originally chose to watch it having been misinformed, being told something untoward happened halfway through and it transformed it into a totally different film. With all those corn fields I was fully expecting alien abduction and anal probes. Nope. Only right at the end of the hundred and thirty eight minutes of men walking through fields not saying much there is a moment. No spoilers. But then it ends. After a few minutes of actorless night sky. Of course.
Ordet directed by Carl Theodor Dreyer
In Georgia they only consume 2.14 tons of CO2 annually. With films to match. What Do We See When We Look at the Sky? takes one hundred and fifty minutes to tell its story. Anne disappeared to make tea during one particular highlight. The scene where our protagonist finishes for the day at his job minding the metal pull-up frame (listen, it's a long film and I'm not going to explain all the ins and outs, ok? just go with it), and walks across the park to the cafe. Except, halfway there he remembers he left his plastic bag hanging on the frame. So he returns to collect it, successfully, and then resumes his walk back traversing the park, to the cafe where he finally orders a drink. All in real time. We never find out what is in his plastic bag.
I sound mocking, and truth be told I do need to watch the remaining hour of What Do We See When We Look at the Sky? I may have bailed on first viewing, but there is something richly rewarding about slow cinema. As long as you are in the headspace for it. Silent Light is beautifully composed and shot. What Do We See When We Look at the Sky? offers another view of how life is for millions of people. It also features a beautiful piano soundtrack composed by the director's brother. Hollywood films, even documentaries, are not bound to the reality of experience, they are not Carveresque. I think I shall watch the remainder next Sunday, to see the lovers reconciled. I'm too romantic to suggest we watch it on actual Valentine's Night.
I had started the Korean detective series Stranger on Netflix, which gets good press. While it's more Line of Duty than Memories of Murder, it's fast enough for me to say semi-regularly "What's happening now Anne?" With the local population getting through 11.85 tons of CO2 they aren't hanging around explaining anything to anyone twice. For me, a large part of the attraction is the high production values allowing plenty of on-location scenes. Having never visited, it's fascinating seeing the back streets of Seoul.
The co-star, as a plot point, has lost his sense of empathy, therefore lacks social skills, rendering the series a little dry. So after following an online conversation debating if The Last of Us is any good — already on my radar since it stars the most likeable man alive Pedro Pascal — when the commenters went supernova over episode 3, even mentioning Station 11, I defected.
Americans get through 15.52 tons of CO2, and their plots do not pause. The series is extrapolated from a PlayStation game, which perhaps shows, it's very easy to indulge in spot the influence. The first feature length episode plays Children of Men off against World War Z, using a Girl with all the Gifts set up, throwing in hints of The Road as flavour. The superlative quality of the production stops it from being derivative, every scene is a set piece. Like good pizza it's familiar, but sometimes is exactly what's required, or as The Menu would put it, sometimes all you want is a really good burger 🍔.
The Last of Us created by Craig Mazin and Neil Druckmann
I await the touted episode three to see whether it elevates itself above a highly enjoyable orphan and cynical guardian learning to be a family trope masquerading as zombie romp. That old chestnut. It certainly holds true to my theory, with my heartbeat matching that high rate of carbon dioxide emission.
Incidentally although Birdman, which features Carver's What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, is filmed in using only a few incredibly long tracking shots, composited to look like a single take, it’s scenes technically far longer than anything in Silent Light, it operates at a hundred times the speed. Armchair case proved.
While we’re on the topic of verbose titles (and dystopias) let’s have Manic Street Preachers and If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next.
Our cover stars are Pedro Pascal and Miriam Toews as Esther in Silent Light, rendered by the amazing Fatima Fletcher, our artist in residence.
Please show Fatima your love by following and liking every single one of her posts at www.instagram.com/fatima.fletcher, and visiting fatimafletcher.com, where her work is for sale, she is available for commissions.
Her wonderful Ruff Ruff coasters are for sale at fatima-fletcher.square.site/s/shop
This week featured
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raymond_Carver
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carlos_Reygadas
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/What_Do_We_See_When_We_Look_at_the_Sky%3F
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alejandro_Gonz%C3%A1lez_I%C3%B1%C3%A1rritu
Buy me a coffee at www.buymeacoffee.com/vfnIE9P0Ta
References
on love, speed and carbon emissions
One of the themes of NOPE by Jordan Peele is to not engage with the spectacle,"Don't look up." I'm wondering if this is a coincidence.
Curious that YouTube will not allow Manic Street Preachers, "If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next" to be played in the US.
Would it be unreasonable to suggest linking carbon emissions this way is something only a Rabbit would do?