Covek nije tica

As a matter of pure pleasure, a measurement held dear by this auteur, this might compete with the great "WR: Mysteries of the Organism" as my favorite of Machevejev's movies. It's probably not the writer- director's second greatest work, but, with it's movingly alive, yet unflattering depiction of a communist- Yugoslavia mining town, it particularly moved me. The film's critique of Yugoslavian communism: profoundly, but predictably disappointing, yet just barely worthy of affirmation, seemed to me a brilliant description of life itself.

Machevejev may well be the most affirmationally erotic artist in the cinematic canon. Human touch always affirms life, for the better or worse of the subsequently affirmed. Here, all involved turn out okay: they get to continue to enjoy the spectacle that is the socialist circus of life. (For me, Machevejev's affirmation of the existential circus seems much more sincere than that of, say, Fellini.)

The guy behind this is clearly a talented man, this is the first of his stuff I see but it's an acquaintance I'm happy to make. It's a Yugoslav Breathless of sorts, or better yet the Czech film Loves of a Blonde which came out the same year, except instead of scenic Paris this unfolds in dour Belgrade, it has actual blood running in its veins instead of just poise, and instead of a boyhood fantasy about movies and movie icons, it locks the story in all sorts of other self-referential illusion.

The hypnotist who explains to an audience about the power of superstition and illusory belief, a great viewing template that sets up everything else as objectively unreal yet present in the willing viewer. The pompous ceremony where a superintendent is awarded by the communist powers that be before an audience of bored factory workers, some of whom may have even turned up to watch the film. The closing scene with the circus of very real absurdities.

So this is the journey here, from cinematic hypnotizing to slightly less (or more) real situations through what palpable desires these may unlock.

It's all centered in a relationship between a blonde hairdresser and a middle-aged superintendent of an energy project. The desires being to trust a lover, to complete a work even as you wonder why, to have dreams survive. I like that it is primarily visual and freeform, while being vital instead of just an artifact of technique; the less you think you have to say, the less of your own self obscures the possibilities of what is before you.

It isn't great, but it is among the most accomplished debuts of New Wave. Now I set my eyes on later works by this guy.

Covek nije tica AKA Man Is Not A Bird is one of the three first full-length films by director Dusan Makavejev. Makavejev is the most well known and also the most bizarre Yugoslavian director. In his films erotic and political catalog face each other, he combines old propaganda material with early pornographic images (The Switchboard Operator is actually a better example of this). He was one of the most important filmmakers in Novi-film, which means the Eastern bloc new wave during the Cold War.

The class division to miners and educated experts shocked Makavejev, who wanted to show the true workers. Man Is Not A Bird is about a dull ordinary miner-town, where a hypnotist Roko delivers enjoyment and relief to the workers. He can make them believe that they are free, socialist heroes or even birds. The film has two different stories from the same town. A town which has no way out, which is in domination of its government.

As we know in the 1960's New Wave ran through Europe. We probably remember best the French new wave (Truffaut, Godard). But the new artistic movement did also arrive to the other side of Europe, to the Eastern bloc. Novi-film doesn't narratively differ much from French new wave, but its collage-style is something you don't see in France. They are as cheer as other new wave films, but also the satire of them is as strong. In Czechoslovakia for instance the government banned many films by Milos Forman and Jiri Menzel. I don't know much about the destiny of these Yugoslavian films, but they must've shocked people.

Why a man can't be a bird? He can, only with the help of a hypnotist, but a deeper meaning hides in the title. I thought that it meant; A man is not a bird because it cannot fly free. We can't fly free as birds, because we are held down by society, relationships, work and the pressure of our community. But should we be free like birds? This is a big theme in this fine film by Makavejev and it discusses about it. A Man Is Not A Bird also deals up with class division and other social issues of Yugoslavia. I found it very interesting and well made. If you enjoyed this be sure to check out Dusan Makavejev's other early film: Love Affair: Or The Case of The Missing Switchboard Operator.

Dušan Makavejev's directorial debut looks at the lives of some people in a mining town. I interpreted "Čovek nije tica" ("Man Is Not a Bird" in English) as a satire on Yugoslavian society. Yugoslavia was initially part of the Eastern Bloc, but Tito's disagreements with Stalin led to its expulsion from the alliance. Nevertheless, Eastern Bloc-style policies remained in place. The wealth stayed concentrated among the party, while most people worked dangerous jobs. It may have been easier for people in the US and Western Europe to go to Yugoslavia than to the rest of Eastern Europe, but to its citizens it was little different from the Soviet bloc. And the hypnosis scenes? It might evoke abstract hypnosis, or convincing people of something that isn't true: both the Eastern and Western blocs tried to pass themselves off as defenders of freedom, even as both did unethical things. To be certain, the open-pit mine looks like the sort of thing that one would find in West Virginia.

I found it to be a good movie. I now hope to see Makavejev's other movies.

Dusan Makavejev made himself known in the world of international cinema with his first film, Man in Not a Bird, and it's a film that juggles stories and a political atmosphere (mostly) in the guise of a documentary on a copper mill. It deals with romance and work, two themes that Makavejev would toy with and dissect with his anarchic and absurdist style throughout his whole career. It's about a construction foreman, Jan Rudinski (Janez Vrhovec), who is in town to oversee the copper mill, and a hairdresser named Rajka (Milena Dravić) who falls in love with him. How this happens is never made exactly clear, even as Makavejev indulges in a moodily-lit lovemaking scene that tells us all we need to know about their passion, nor is it clear how he is really attracted to her. That is, until their relationship becomes compromised by a man closer to her age, a guy who always comes in to the barbershop to get shaved even when he doesn't need it, just to hit on her.

It's this, plus an undercooked story of a drunken man and his troublesome own affair that brings out a huge girl-fight between his wife and his lover in the middle of a street, that marks the dramatic side of the picture. Mixing in and out of these stories is footage of the mill, the workers working diligently, leading up to a big celebratory concert where Beethoven's 9th fills the air (also in cutaways to Rajka having her fling with the man in the truck as her actual lover sits in his awarding ceremony).

It's not filled with Makavejev's rampant humor, and it's more of a real "film" instead of one of his hybrid comedy-documentaries. Man is Not a Bird is a fresh burst of original film-making, and if it's not always engaging during its 79 minutes (I found myself tuning out in a couple of scenes) it's still reveals an artist with something to say. There's something urgent about his film, particularly towards the end and during those hypnotist scenes where the audience is enraptures by the hypnotists skills directing people on a stage. Makavejev is after an essential truth in human nature: work and love can't always go together, or sometimes one takes over the other, and a (Communist) nation like the one this is set in needs to find a balance of both.