I just saw Pier Paolo Pasolini’s 1969 film, Medea. As usual, it is a beautiful film without a great deal of bother about the plot. I think this is why Pasolini picked subjects like the Gospel of Matthew and Oedipus Rex for his films. It allowed him to deal with film as an art without getting too bogged down in the transitions required to tell a story. That worked especially well with, The Gospel According to St Matthew, as I discussed in Pasolini’s Atheistic Tribute to Christianity. The gospels are episodic with no real transitions themselves. That’s not so much true with Medea.
Pasolini put two different stories together in the film. The first 50 minutes of the film involves Jason’s quest for the golden fleece and Medea’s abandonment her entire life in order to give it to him. The remaining hour is dedicated to a curious telling of Euripides’ play Medea. But even if you know these stories well, you will still be fairly confused. All together, the film comes off as a series of moments. As though Pasolini is saying to the viewer, “Remember when Medea murdered her brother to allow Jason to get away? Remember when Creon banished Medea?” The major scenes are rendered, but there are very few dots connecting them.
In addition to this, the second half of the film is presented in a seemingly random order. Jason’s infidelity is only made clear in retrospect. And perhaps the most confusing thing: Medea’s murder of Glauce is presented twice in two different ways. It was only on second viewing that I realized what Pasolini was doing. At first, he is presenting it as Glauce’s father, Creon, imagines it. This leads him to go to Medea and banish her. This is not in the play and it is a very welcome addition. But Pasolini provides not clear indication of this. In fact, in the Wikipedia entry on the movie, it speculates that the first murder is Medea’s vision. This is an understandable error.
Having said all this, you probably have the impression that Medea is not good. But that isn’t my impression of it at all. I thought it is was riveting from the very start. But I’ve begun to question whether I can much speak for other people. In recent years, I’ve begun to see film much more as pure visual art. Or at least that’s how I approach it when that is how it is intended. And that’s certainly the case with the Pasolini that I’ve seen. In that regard Medea is a tour de force.
It isn’t just the visuals here. The performances are great — Most especially Maria Callas! — and the music and sound are overwhelming. The whole package is incredibly self-assured. Pasolini seems very clear that he is going to present these two great myths with a maximum of power. And that’s why he can’t be bothered with trivialities like why Jason is treating Medea so poorly. And that’s probably for the best, because a modern audience can’t really understand Jason’s betrayal anyway. And what does it matter? It’s really just about the injustices done to Medea and her (over) reactions to them.
The film ends with Medea shouting at Jason from behind a line of fire, “Nothing is possible anymore!” It’s shocking but appropriate. And it sums up her whole life from meeting Jason. It also sums up all of our lives — it is just that our tragedies are so much more banal. Medea takes our pedestrian sufferings and transforms them into something powerful. If you are up to it, it will not disappoint. But Medea is certainly not for casual viewing.
Afterword
Here is the whole film on YouTube. The print is not great, but it will do. And the subtitles are better than on my print.
Few experts have done more to try to understand the mindset of the young men and women who aspire to join the blood-drenched ranks of groups such as ISIS and Al Qaeda than [Marc] Sageman. And few can match his qualifications, credentials or background. The 61-year-old, Polish-born psychiatrist and academic is a former CIA operations officer who was based in Pakistan in the late 1980s. There he worked closely with the Afghan mujahedin. He has since advised the New York City Police Department on counterterrorism issues, testified in front of the 9/11 Commission in Washington DC, and, in his acclaimed works Understanding Terror Networks and Leaderless Jihad, closely analysed the biographies of several hundred terrorists.
The great David Cay Johnston published a really useful article last week,
A few weeks ago, Ian Ayres brought my attention to some amazing but unsurprising research,
Maria Callas was probably the most famous soprano of the 20th century. She also lived quite a tragic live, which may be the thing to do when you are an opera star. But I know her primarily as the star of Pier Paolo Pasolini’s film,
Today,
Last week, Usaid Siddiqui wrote an amazing article over at Aljazeera America,
What’s more, this idea that atheists who go around physically attacking Muslims are not true New Atheists is a standard rhetorical fallacy: No True Scotsman. And it is one that I hear all the time from Christians. But I accept irrationality from Christians — after all, they’re Christians. But how is it that the “I don’t believe anything I don’t have proof for” crowd should so easily fall into this trap? That’s a rhetorical question, of course. We all know why: the New Atheists are no more rational than anyone else, they just think they are.
The median household income in the US is around $52,000. So can households earning twice that much really consider themselves middle class? …
Last week, Tom Philpott wrote a really interesting article over at Mother Jones,
On Thursday, Jonathan Bernstein made a good point,
After doing “Running Bear” yesterday, I feel like I should make up for it. But sadly, you get outside of the twelve-tone scale, and I’m lost. But I decided to look. All I could think to search for were Cherokee songs. I have a special love for the Cherokee people because they totally disprove the conservative claims about the white power elite accepting other peoples. The Cherokee did everything that could possibly be hoped in terms of living inside the context of the western invaders, and they got nothing but abuse for it. But I’ll leave the politics aside.
On this day in 1794, the cotton gin was born. Well, not born. But that was the day that Eli Whitney got the patent for it. The cotton gin had terrible social consequences for America. It reminds me of a story I once heard about Leonardo da Vinci inventing some labor saving device designed to make life easier on the workers. But all it actually accomplished was to put a bunch of workers out of work. In the long-term, that kind of thing is good for workers — in theory. But in the short-term, it sucked. The direct effect of the cotton gin was to require fewer slaves to separate cotton. But the indirect effect was to greatly increase the need for slaves in other areas of cotton production.