Blood Tea and Red String

"Blood Tea and Red String" is the latest watch in my line of obscure animated films I wanted to see. I gotta say for all the talk of this thing being a horror movie, it really only delivers on that in the imagery. The story, while darker than most childhood fairy tales, doesn't revolve around the macabre. It is a Gothic, haunting movie but not really what I'd call horror.

As for the film itself, I liked it. Would watch again if I had the chance, though it's not necessarily a re-watchable kind of flick. It is an art-house film - through and through. While this is the kind of art-house stuff I can get behind (or at least, you know, is actually entertaining and thought provoking instead of pretentious or dull), art movies are something you have to be in the mood for.

This is a super unsettling movie, and got to me in a way where I started wondering whether I'd seen it as a child, 20-something years ago, and had repressed any memories of it up until this point. But then I saw it was from 2006, and so if I had seen it, it would've likely been something I'd remembered.

I didn't like that feeling of being weirdly nostalgic and also overwhelmed by dread at the same time, but for eliciting such a response, I think this animated film's a success? It's slow and not always captivating after a while, but the style is cool and the animation/making-of is impressive, once you know it apparently took 13 years in total to make.

I saw this on Christmas Day and was rather thankful. 2006 has been a bad year for movies and at the end of each year I start to put together my additions to my short list of films everyone should watch before they die (if they want to be lucid in a film life).

Only two per year are allowed and I had none for 2006. I may put this on the list of what I call "Fours."

Its a short film that seems excruciatingly long. Its a flaw that I think starts to work for the thing after it has stopped working against it. The reason is a matter of pacing. Usually, we look to cinematic storytelling to be economical, like say it is in dreams. Something is shown only as it adds value, nothing is shown for mere completeness. We'd wonder about a filmmaker that shows us every act of the detective driving to an interview: opening and closing car doors, turning the key, fastening seat belt and so on.

In this movie, the filmmaker apparently hasn't mastered the notion of economy. If you have three mice and each is to eat three worms, prepare to see nine worms roasted, grabbed, chewed and swallowed. If you have three mice rescued from carnivorous plants, you'll have to see the entire rescue in detail three times. I suppose if you spend a month for a minute of film (what this works out to) you would be reluctant to cut. So your first impression is likely to be that there is no imposed rhythm, that the thing plods.

But it works for it, I think in an unintended way. The early Herzog had a trick: he would shift in and out of documentary mode with his camera. When in that mode, he would act like a newsman discovering and documenting something real. The camera would catch what it could and linger wherever it happened regardless of narrative necessity. It had the effect of making what we saw real. And of course it was: we saw a crazy man in a South American jungle doing crazy things that we knew were really done as we saw them.

But Herzog in those same films would insert formal shots. Stylized poses and action that reminded starkly that what we are seeing is something staged, artificial. Moving between these two modes is one of the most effective cinematic devices in the book, and that's what we have here. Some shots are so stylized, they're clichés: beings on a quest silhouetted by a setting sun. It works.

We also have what I call folding, tricks to place us in the thing. The story is a bunch of dolls placed to evoke emotional memories in us, and the story has them (those very dolls) obsessed with a doll. Also, if you know the history of fantasy well, you'll immediately recognize that this in an inverse Alice in Wonderland, instead of Alice imagining animals, they imagine her. More: there's a wonderful teaparty, card game which has many enticing elements, the one of note here is that they play with cards that have no faces. Later, the "story" is drawn on those faces.

Finally, we have a framing device. The story features an egg that appears down a stream, is placed in the doll, hatches and things happen. It is framed by the living doll pouring tea, placing an egg in the teapot (which in the story will come floating down a stream). At the end of the story, an object in a pouch is placed in the same stream by the mice and it appears in our living doll's teacup. A bit dear but clear.

And all of this before we get to the actual images. They are extremely effective. Absolutely, breathtakingly engaging. They are original, and sharp because of it. No, there's no Quay or Svankmejer in this. No, it's not dark in any respect. I've said before that to make interesting films you have to be an interesting person. Encountering this makes me think there is an interesting person in this woman, someone worth knowing, though I suspect unless you fully enter her world she will not touch you.

Back to the film, when you watch it, notice how she handles the psychedelic sequence. Its a well known problem in film: how do you show something that is by definition unshowable? How do you use vision to bend vision, the actual process of cognition? What she's done here is gentle, not wild. But it is effective and original. Barriers rather than colored lights. William Morris intercessions.

A final note. The sound. Its sparse, sharpedged, economical in ways the visuals aren't. An amazingly effective compliment.

It may be that this is an unrepeatable event, that we may not get another special thing from this woman. Or it may take too long, but let's hope not. In any case, she's in my life in a small way now, and may find her way into yours if you experience this.

Ted's Evaluation -- 4 of 3: Every cineliterate person should experience this.

An Ideal film for those who like to disappear and reappear into some one else's fantasy. Cegaveske has created a world so full of detail and atmosphere it feels as if you are sucked into a dream. Like dreams, the actual storyline does not seem to matter, it feels more like a series of events unfolding before you. Also the fact that it is dialog free allows you to interpret the narrative for your self. Or just sit back and let the film just happen, when the credits role you may think what just happened, did I just watch what I think I did, oh sh*t I'm in my living room and my tea has gone cold. Technically the film is amazing, stop motion is a very laborious process and for one person to do all that is so impressive, it is not surprising it took 13 years to make! Stop-motion animation is a dieing art form so its nice to know that some artists remain true to it. The quality of stop motion animation creates such a magic feel that CGI will never achieve. The animation has a style of Jiri Trnkr, for it is very beautiful, but with a dark twist Svankmajer style. What makes it unique it that it is very much the vision of one person. Also fair play to Mark Growden for creating a sound track that perfectly complements the film and creates that fairy tail feel. Two scenes that really stick out are the mice having a drunken punch up, you get the impression that they really want to lump each other hard in the chops. But it's the trippin' out after eating the yellow fruit which really got me. If you like a unconventional fairy tail, a bit of fantasy or have any interest in stop motion, please treat your eyes to this. Also if you like this check out another fantastic feature length stop-motion film called Krysar; (The Pied Piper / The Rat-catcher) by Jiri Barta, its quite dark too!

Blood tea and red string. Stopmotion animation is hard to come by these days. what's even harder to come by is a dark fairy tale told using stop motion. luckily we have blood tea and red string. Which does just that. I was lucky enough to see this film at Montreal's Fantasia Festival. A great festival, but one that could always use more animation. Stylisticly Blood tea could be compared to Jan Svankmajer's Alice. But it has some very dark and somewhat scary points. It could easily give any kid nightmares. Chistiane Cegavske is a very gifted animator and the world she creates is a memorable tale of aristocratic white mice, skull flowers, widow spiders, blood, tea and red string.