Béla Tarr’s Werckmeister Harmonies is possibly the one of the most beautiful and disturbing films ever committed to celluloid. A modern day version of the travelling freak show arrives in an small Hungarian town, an event which spirals the inhabitants of the area into a murderous fury. The film utilises the longest takes possible using film: there are only 39 cuts… while an average modern Hollywood product can have up to 3000. Tarr has said - not entirely seriously - ‘Kodak cannot make [film] longer than 300 meters, which is about 11 minutes… this is my limit, this fucking Kodak , a time limit. A kind of censorship’. The camera moves unceasingly around sets / sites and the monochrome film process somehow renders the black and white photography uncanny.



Tarr was born in Hungary in 1955. In 1956 there was a popular uprising that attempted to shake off Communist rule, some 2000,000 people fled abroad, while thousands were arrested or dissapeared, and hundreds were murdered.

Hungary had been under communist rule since the end of WW2, for a few years the country was run from Moscow and enforced by the Soviet Red Army - state farms were set up and the AVO (secret police) were formed. In 1948, one party home rule was instated, tho the government was simply a puppet for Moscow. After the uprising in '56, Janos Kadir was installed as leader by the Soviets. Under him, there was a more liberal communism, and the phrase 'the most cheerful prison black behind the iron curtain' has been used about his regime. In 1989 there was the beginnings of a peaceful transition to a liberal democracy. Moscow said it would not interfere. In 1990 there were free elections. The vote was won by a centre right party. Unemployment and inflation followed, a trend that has not been reversed despite a socialist governement being elected in '94 and then another centre right party in 98... In 2004 Hungary joined the EU...

It seems in some ways Werckmeister Harmonies must reflect upon these events, but the film is highly ambiguous in a number of ways. It is difficult to place it 'in history' - though the appearance at the end of a strikingly modern helicopter throws the audience after watching crumbling villages and rusty old equipment (including a soviet tank). Further, despite when it is set, the events are seemingly alegorical... despite Tarr himself denying this. The uncle in the hotel seems to capture this best: some say hundreds of people have arrived, some say only three... some say it is the whale's doing, some say the whale has nothing to do with it...



What is the relationship between the Whale and the Prince? Who - or what - is the Prince? A short figure seen only in shadow... arriving in a town followed by the populance now transformed into a mob... parellels with the Nazis then appear... During the 1930s Hungary was overshadowed by Nazi Germany. Despite trying to stay neutral, it joined on the side of the Axis powers in 1941, and invaded in '45. The Prince, then, appears as a neo-Hilter... he says 'thinking is cowardice'... eitherway, the film seems to reflect upon the fascist urge... not simply as a political movement, but the fascist urge inside us all... the need to abandon choice, allow another, a leader, to make difficult decisions for us so that we can say 'I had no choice in this'. There is, of course, always a choice.

Finally, a question? What happened to the central figure of the film, Janos? Did he get captured by the rhetoric? Did he take part in the atrocities? Is that why he ended up in the hospital, drugged, insane? There are, then, parellels to The Cabinet of Dr Caligari [Das Kabinett des Doktor Caligari], Robert Weine, Germany, 1920. In this film the carnival comes to the sleepy town of Holstenwall... the action ends (and begins) in an asylum. Critics have often commented upon the fact that this bookend reduces the radical commentary of the film about the social situation. The Werckmeister Harmonies, on the other hand, has no such bookend. Janos is an intelligent, sane, naive young man. Eitherway, the ambiguity of this film wins out every time... and that is just the way it should be... after all, the film wants you to think, not follow a plot blindly, abdicate your brain to a fascist Hollywood director who will tell you what to think, how to feel... the question is, of course, can you view a film in this way, or will the fascist in you win out?