Film: The Hungarian Masters Box Set
Release date: 21st June 2010
Certificate: 12
Running time: 285 mins
Director: Miklós Jancsó, Károly Makk, Márta Mészáros
Starring: Lili Darvas, Mari Töröcsik, Zsuzsa Czinkóczi
Genre: Drama/War
Studio: Second Run
Format: DVD
Country: Hungary
From Second Run DVD, this box set features three Hungarian films: My Way Home (1965), Love (1971) and Diary For My Children (1984). The box set endeavours to showcase some of the best Hungarian cinema has to offer. Although each of the three films contains a political element to a greater or lesser extent, these works manage to encompass the wider textures of life during the past decade in Hungary, dealing with themes such as friendship, loss and independence.
My Way Home (1965)
A Hungarian crosses the hills and greenery of Russia during the final stages of World War II. He is captured by Soviet troops and soon becomes a POW for a young Russian soldier named Kolja. The Hungarian attempts to escape, but as this possibility becomes increasingly less likely he is forced to adjust to a new way of living, even though he can see freedom hiding in the distance…
What begins with a burst of activity soon dissolves as the pace of My Way Home reduces to a steady stroll, a tempo that remains fixed for most of the film. If viewers are watching in the hope of seeing a tense, exciting plot centred around a prisoner of war and his attempts to escape, they may feel a little under whelmed. Not to say that this film is bereft of moments that satisfy this need, because it is not. It is just that these moments are brief and very sporadic. Ambling along in its own way, the film though does provide a source of deeper meaning and intellectual curiousity that is sure to absorb most viewers for the entirety of its running length.
What gradually emerges from this film is a stark yet languid portrait of an isolated existence, divorced from the rest of the world, and most intriguingly, the war itself.
Ultimately the relationship between the central characters creeps under the nose of the viewer to form the core of the film. Without even being overly aware of it the viewer becomes emotionally involved in the bond that slowly builds between the two main characters.
The director’s use of wise- shots, powerful compositions and wondrously fluid camera movement is one of the joys of My Way Home, and in regards to the central relationship, his style reinforces the understated, sensitive nature of their story in addition to its delicate evolution against an open, expansive landscape. Traces of homosexuality are recognisable, as are the themes of nationhood and individuality that pepper the narrative throughout.
Love (1971)
Luca (Mari Töröcsik) plays the daughter-in-law to a bed-ridden old woman (Lili Darvas). Her husband is a political prisoner.
To give her mother-in-law a sense of hope, Luca invents stories about her husband making films in America which she relates to the woman via letters she has written.
The woman’s health is uncertain as Luca is hopeful of her husband returning to see them both…
Love is not necessarily a film that could be described as easy to watch. It quickly locks the viewer inside the narrow confines of the old woman’s bedroom. The interior used for the scenes featuring this character shown in a way that feels compact and constricting. As a result, the audience cannot avoid the stale, moribund atmosphere emanating from the scenes with the frail old woman. This approach also helps us to understand the empty nature of her daily routine and the despondency and desperation this leads to. It makes for sobering viewing, the pathos of which is heightened by exchanges between the woman and her loving daughter-in-law.
However, the constricting atmosphere produced in the early scenes is interrupted by frequent glimpses of flashbacks from the woman’s point-of-view. While these images are arresting, they help to explore the character, too. When she relates these images to portions of the letters supposedly from her son, they also evoke our sympathies, as we can see how deluded the lady is. Either that or she is in constant longing for another time and place. Or perhaps it is both.
In these early scenes, the director additionally demonstrates flexibility as a filmmaker, especially due to the fact that the camera is moved around in an unpredictable fashion, whilst still maintaining the solemn tone.
Elsewhere in the film, we learn less about the daughter-in-law character, but we are convinced of her commitment to her imprisoned husband. The husband’s involvement in the narrative shifts the focus of the film. Some may perceive his presence and the emphasis upon the letters as evidence of a politically allegorical subtext within the film. What is unequivocal, though, is that the final act of Love underlines the significance of the relationship between the couple, particularly given the undesirable circumstances.
There is perhaps an element of ambiguity in the film. Hopefully this will not be problematic for audiences, and will instead compliment the enjoyment of a brilliantly acted film, made with grace, care and thought that will send ripples of emotion right through the audience at home.
Diary For My Children (1984)
Juli (Zsuzsa Czinkoczi) is moved to Hungary in 1947 to begin a new, affluent life with her foster mother Magda (Anna Polony). It is Magda’s wish to be accepted by Juli, but Juli rejects the life she is offered.
Conflict soon arises between the two. However, it is not just tension that derives from the private sphere that affects the young girl’s life, but her growing despondency with the ideals of Communism as well…
The longest and most narrative orientated of the three films in the set, Diary For My Children is an undeniably impressive work. It manages to combine a personal story of Juli (Zsuzsa Czinkoczi) with a tale of the pressures of conformity and ideology in Soviet Hungary in the late 1940s.
Mészáros’ film is arguably the stateliest of the three films on this box set in terms of its visual style, but even here the director employs flashbacks imbued with a dream-like quality. Aesthetically, the director aims for realism and is successful. Despite this, the director is very conscious of highlighting the more intimate details in the life and interactions of the central character.
Although Juli may be a difficult character to sympathise with, at times, it is very easy to empathise with her impatience for the oppressive society around her, as the insistence on loyalty to the state through propaganda and other means is shown to be inescapable. Her story is one that is torn between her own desires and the desires of those who want her to conform. As this story unfolds, the audience learns more about her own family’s past, drawing the viewer deeper into the film. The characters of Magda (Anna Polony) and Janos (Jan Nowicki) provide further light and shade in the story, brought to life by the respective actors’ impressive performances.
This is a compelling and vivid depiction of a life lived in Communist Hungary, filled with excellent performances.
On the evidence it presents, Hungarian Masters is an impeccable title for this box set; it really does display film making of the highest order. The result is a collection of DVDs that are more than likely to satisfy viewers who take this art form seriously. For the uninitiated, this is a superb introduction to Hungarian cinema - for enthusiasts, this set is indispensable. BN
