“Y nuestros Rostros mi vida, breves como fotos”.
John Berger.
Al recordar la película para escribir este ensayo. Tengo que confesar que el argumento de la historia no atrapó a mi atención. Es una historia simple con un principio, un medio y un fin. Las actuaciones no son las más espectaculares ni emblemáticas. Pero Bresson logra lo que ningún otro director.
Contar las historias en close-ups a través de los rostros y manos. Con poca escenografia, nula. Una especie de introspección a la conciencia del personaje. Creando coreografías al realizar los hurtos.
La película esta contada de tal manera que el tiempo parece congelarse en cada toma. Logra un silencio fotografico, en un punt pareciera una sucesión de fotografías que están animadas cuadro por cuadro. Los rostros de las personas son lo esencial al contar la historia no sus acciones ni sus luchas internas por su redención. En donde Bresson lo resuelve de una manera muy obvia, el que peca o realiza malas acciones va a la carcel.
Creo que este argumento es un tanto malo para el final de la pelicula. Al contar historias los juicios de valor o moral no deben tomar el papel principal. Y al querrer dar una lección la historia se congel ay solo se queda en lo moral. Pero claro la belleza de las imagenes hace que nos olvidemos de las lecciones de Bresson. Las imágenes logran clavarse en los ojos, no solo superficielmente. Tiene una claridad la fotografía que te enfocas en los objetos, los rostros, sus actitudes. Son personas que parecen estar en contante lucha y tristesa a lo largo del fil.
Al pensar en esto decidí relacionar la película con fotografías de rostros y manos, es lo más obvio para mí al ser esto lo que cautivo a mi ojo. Y otras imágenes sobre los pickpockets.
Peter Keetman. "Mano"
Cueva de las Manos. La Patagonia (Argentina)
J.R. Butler, President of the Southern Tenant Farmers Union, Memphis, Tennessee
1938, Dorothea Lange.
Migratory Cotton Picker
1940. Dorothea Lange
Sir, - As The Times is always open for the insertion of any remarks likely to caution the unwary or to put the unsuspecting on their guard against the numerous thefts and robberies committed daily in the streets of London, I am induced to ask you to insert a case which happened on Saturday last, and which I trust may serve as a warning to those of your lady readers who still carry purses in their pockets.
A young lady (and, as the police reports add,) of very prepossessing appearance, a relation of the narrator's, was walking between 12 and 1 o'clock with another young lady, a friend of hers, in Albany-street, where she resides, when she was accosted by a boy about 11 years of age, who asked her in the most beseeching tones "to buy a few oranges of a poor orphan who hadn't a bit of bread to eat." She told him to go away, but he kept alongside, imploring assistance, and making some cutting remarks about "the ingratitude of the world in general and of young ladies in particular." As his manner became very troublesome the lady threatened to give him in charge of a policeman, and looked down every area to find one; but there was not one even there, and the boy kept up his sweet discourse and slight pushes alternately (the latter with the basket on which he carried his oranges), until the lady reached her own door-step. It then occurred to her that in the boy's ardour to sell his oranges he might have taken her purse; her friend thought so too. A trembling hand was inserted into the pocket; the purse was gone, and so was the lady's happiness. She flew after the thief, who, knowing young ladies were not made for running, coolly deposited his basket on a door-step a little way off and ran away whistling. This brave young lady ran also, shouting "Stop thief! stop thief!" (but then young ladies are not made for shouting, God forbid!) and she looked in the fond hope that a policeman might be found. But no such luck, the culprit got safely off with the purse and its contents; and no kind passer by tried to help the young lady, who was thus shamefully duped and robbed. Ladies, young and old, never carry your purses in your pockets; beware of canting beggars, and beggars of all sorts, that infest the streets; and, above all, keep a watchful eye about you and give the widest possible berth to THE ORANGE BOY.
+(75+Francia)+Intriga_avi_004197200.jpg)
THE ORANGE BOY
Sir, - As The Times is always open for the insertion of any remarks likely to caution the unwary or to put the unsuspecting on their guard against the numerous thefts and robberies committed daily in the streets of London, I am induced to ask you to insert a case which happened on Saturday last, and which I trust may serve as a warning to those of your lady readers who still carry purses in their pockets.
A young lady (and, as the police reports add,) of very prepossessing appearance, a relation of the narrator's, was walking between 12 and 1 o'clock with another young lady, a friend of hers, in Albany-street, where she resides, when she was accosted by a boy about 11 years of age, who asked her in the most beseeching tones "to buy a few oranges of a poor orphan who hadn't a bit of bread to eat." She told him to go away, but he kept alongside, imploring assistance, and making some cutting remarks about "the ingratitude of the world in general and of young ladies in particular." As his manner became very troublesome the lady threatened to give him in charge of a policeman, and looked down every area to find one; but there was not one even there, and the boy kept up his sweet discourse and slight pushes alternately (the latter with the basket on which he carried his oranges), until the lady reached her own door-step. It then occurred to her that in the boy's ardour to sell his oranges he might have taken her purse; her friend thought so too. A trembling hand was inserted into the pocket; the purse was gone, and so was the lady's happiness. She flew after the thief, who, knowing young ladies were not made for running, coolly deposited his basket on a door-step a little way off and ran away whistling. This brave young lady ran also, shouting "Stop thief! stop thief!" (but then young ladies are not made for shouting, God forbid!) and she looked in the fond hope that a policeman might be found. But no such luck, the culprit got safely off with the purse and its contents; and no kind passer by tried to help the young lady, who was thus shamefully duped and robbed. Ladies, young and old, never carry your purses in your pockets; beware of canting beggars, and beggars of all sorts, that infest the streets; and, above all, keep a watchful eye about you and give the widest possible berth to THE ORANGE BOY.
+(75+Francia)+Intriga_avi_004197200.jpg)
Otro director con que el cual relacione a Bresson, es Jim Jarmush, en la película “Stranger than Paradise”, por sus pocos diálogos. La mínima escenografía, mayor improvisación en los actores como Bresson. El tiempo que se maneja en las dos películas que transcurre lentamente.En esta película no existe un narrador como en Pickpocket.
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario