the loss of forgetting
by Douglas Messerli
Chris Marker (screenwriter and
director) Sans Soleil (Sunless) / 1983
The film opens with two quotes, the first by Racine, “The distance
between countries compensates somewhat for the excessive closeness of time” and
a quotation from T. S. Eliot’s Ash
Wednesday: “Because I know that time is always time / And place is always
and only place / And what is actual only for one time / And only for one
place.”
Marker’s film, accordingly, is a kind melancholy and slightly nostalgic study of time and memory (the title is taken from song cycle by the Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky).
As the film’s narrator relates the
travels of fictitious cameraman Sandor Krasna, he emphasizes what Marker
obviously sees as the dilemmas of being unable to remember:
"I will have spent my life trying to understand the function of remembering, which is not the opposite of forgetting, but rather its lining. We do not remember. We rewrite memory much as history is rewritten. How can one remember thirst?"
Without memory, however, how can we understand and comprehend global
histories; how can we come know our fellow man? The traveler’s method,
therefore, is not explore what we think we know but the banal aspects of life.
"He liked the fragility of those moments suspended in time. Those memories whose only function had been to leave behind nothing but memories. He wrote: I’ve been around the world several times and now only banality still interests me. On this trip I’ve tracked it with the relentlessness of a bounty hunter. At dawn we’ll be in Tokyo."
At other times, however,
Marker’s narrative reminds me a bit of the often hackneyed and clichéd notions
of culture that we have seen in French theorists who talk of the entire US in
terms of Los Angeles and Las Vegas in vague overstatements that have little to
do with the reality of those places, let alone the whole country. In short,
Marker’s narrator often finds profound ideas in what might be quite meaningless
to the cultures themselves, reminding me a bit also of the late 19th and early
20th century European and American “orientalism,” a fascination with anything
that seemed different, without the
ability of those “orientalists” to put the images upon which they focused in
proper context. Marker’s film often makes large claims for the banal activities
he explores. For example, his observation of Japanese horror movies—“Japanese
horror movies have the cunning beauty of certain corpses.”—may be an absolutely
legitimate conclusion, but one would like to know how he has come to this
conclusion and where it leads. Time and again, Marker’s narrator settles of
such seemingly profound generalities presented as aphorisms, without explaining
their meaning or significance in the whole.
Of course, this also creates a kind of poetic quality to the work which
brings it, at times an evocative power. And perhaps the focus on the small acts
and odd components of a society may better help to make us remember, bringing
us closer the filmmaker’s goal of creating a “loss of forgetting.” But at times
Sunless is literally so dark and
vague that it becomes hard to even know where we have been, let alone allowed
to remember the place.
Los Angeles, August 25, 2012
Reprinted from International Cinema Review (August 2012).
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