Pinter's Kafka; 'The Trial'. Brilliant film, I think. Lovely, knowing Prague, to see it as the backdrop. Why bother with derivative stuff like 'Waiting for Godot', a pathetic attempt to infuse the tragedy with facile humour. Hopkins is perfectly cast, as is the castle at Prague. Kafka sees the world, the world of power and corruption so clearly, but fails to see the redemption Epicurus and Ecclesiastes did.
Perfect atmosphere, cinematography and acting. The film is a delight.
To short to be properly Kafkaesque, but who would watch it if it were long enough? It avoids the problems of too literary a take that the film of Finnegan's Wake makes.
We want to shout, almost all the way through, not; 'Look behind you!', but 'What's the Charge?'
This is not a film for the young. It lacks the obvious ennui that a teenager would seek, and find, from the book. It, rather, I think, shows an adult understanding of our helplessness.
We can love the void, or hate it, but we can't deny that it is there. If we can, unlike the Kafka's anti-hero, refuse to take it all at face value, or, more importantly, at the apparently deep, skull-level value the bureaucrats would wish us to believe are real, then we can live.
I see Kafka as, despite himself, deeply life-affirming. The Castle, Trail, or Plague we see is only an illusion. As the gatekeeper says, the door is open and is only there, specially, for us, or for us to ignore.
I'm delighted to have ignored the doors, the gatekeepers and the controllers that would have had me imprisoned in my own mind. It's good and healthy to see them here for what substantial obstacles the can be if you don't ignore them.
Perfect atmosphere, cinematography and acting. The film is a delight.
To short to be properly Kafkaesque, but who would watch it if it were long enough? It avoids the problems of too literary a take that the film of Finnegan's Wake makes.
We want to shout, almost all the way through, not; 'Look behind you!', but 'What's the Charge?'
This is not a film for the young. It lacks the obvious ennui that a teenager would seek, and find, from the book. It, rather, I think, shows an adult understanding of our helplessness.
We can love the void, or hate it, but we can't deny that it is there. If we can, unlike the Kafka's anti-hero, refuse to take it all at face value, or, more importantly, at the apparently deep, skull-level value the bureaucrats would wish us to believe are real, then we can live.
I see Kafka as, despite himself, deeply life-affirming. The Castle, Trail, or Plague we see is only an illusion. As the gatekeeper says, the door is open and is only there, specially, for us, or for us to ignore.
I'm delighted to have ignored the doors, the gatekeepers and the controllers that would have had me imprisoned in my own mind. It's good and healthy to see them here for what substantial obstacles the can be if you don't ignore them.