11/12/2002 Entry:
"Songs From The Second Floor - Roy Andersson (2000)"

Songs From The Second Floor is the third or fourth feature (depending on how you define feature) from Swiss director Roy Andersson, his first in 25 years. I had read so many good words about it that I forced myself out on a weeknight to see it, although I was relegated to the small room at Music Box due to the Kurosawa/Mishune retrospective hogging up the main theatre. Too bad too, this film's lush visuals would have been even more powerful on the larger screen. Even so, at this point, I would say this is the best film I've seen all year.

The film is about many things - capitalism, loneliness, the coming of the millenium, the faith, isolation, desperation. Despite all this it is at times amazingly funny, and even though the laughs often come at the expense of the film's participants, you still feel like you are laughing with them and not at them. It is the knowing laugh of someone who has been there before. While I suppose the story could be described as linear, it is largely stream of consciousness, a series of set pieces whose relationship to each other is thematic rather than narrative. The screenplay was based on a poem by Caesar Vallejo, who is quoted in the main credits - "Beloved is he who sits down." While I have not been able to track down a copy of this particular poem by Vallejo (the only site I've found dedicated to him is in Portugese), there are various points in the movie where poetry is read and I am assuming they all come from the same poem. Beloved is the bald man with no hat. Beloved is he who pays with what he does not have. All of these verses show a sympathy for the day to day trials of modern man, which you feel throughout the film even as Andersson tortures his characters (and they torture themselves) in a variety of bizarre ways. The film owes an enormous debt to Bunuel, in particular to The Discrete Charm Of The Bourgeoise. On many occasions his hand could be felt.

Its the filmmaking craft which really take this over the top though. Every scene is like a work of art. Andersson employs a completely static camera throughout, with the exception of a single dolly move, and this can cause these long takes to become oppressive (I mean that in a good way.) At various points I was wondering where he found these amazing locations - they all have an incredible depth, with parallax lines running as far as the eye can see. Finally I realized that most of these shots were done on elaborate sets with painted backgrounds. The effect is accentuated with the use of wide angle lenses which tend to add depth and distort the sense of space. In one scene I can swear that a set was built in such a way to make it appear that the depth of the room was changing in a way that it shouldn't. While the cumulative effect of these details is overwhelming, individually none of them stands out - they are integrated extremely subtly. The effect is similar to many of the sets in Brazil, they create a world in which is at once completely recognizable and yet nothing like our own.

In addition to the craft, the visuals created are simply haunting. There are so many images that linger. Jesus dangling from the cross by one hand, swinging back and forth ("Where did I put those nails?") A mass of people push their impossibly heavy luggage carts, stretching into infinity, as an infinite number of travel agents patiently await their arrival. A pasty-faced man covered with the ashes of his recently burnt down business stands on the train staring vacantly into the camera, as the rest of the passengers burst into an achingly beautiful opera. When the main character throws his plastic Jesus into the fields during the final scene, I haven't seen anything that affecting in a very long time.

Still its not just the visual craft that makes this work. The performances of the characters, who seem to have been chosen to make them as visually unappealing as possible, are perfect. This is especially true of Lars Nordh who takes up the major portion of the film's time. All of the actors were non-professionals, and I have heard a rumor that every shot only once. Also, the score by ABBA's Benny Andersson sets the mood in many of these pieces. The soundtrack often has the feeling of a carnival, which often provides a stark contrast to the stories being played out.

It is interesting contrasting this film with my other two big favorites this year - I Am Trying To Break Your Heart and Heaven (more on that one tomorrow.) My reasons for loving these three films are completely different (and in the case of the Wilco film have little to do with the film itself,) but they all struck a chord with me that resonated deeply. Anderssen is apparently most famous as a commercial director, and Songs From The Second Floor just makes me want to seek out the rest of his work as quickly as humanly possible, although if they are anything like this I can't imagine them being at all well-served on video. I might have to get to see this once more before it disappears, as I feel like one viewing only scratches the surface. I have just discovered there is a Swiss DVD of this with commentary, but no English subtitles. Still it has deleted scenes and an hour long making of documentary so I may get it anyways.

Replies: 1 Comment

Hello, This is the best film I've seen this year too. I loved all the things you loved about it--also the line, "Jesus didn't have a head for business. He just hurt." The whole thing was so affecting to watch and so simple. I am attempting to hunt down his other films as well. One correction--you wrote Andersson is Swiss, he is Swedish. Best, Yoho Posted by Yoho Myrvaagnes @ 12/02/2002 11:33 PM CST