← Part of the Collection: Danièle Huillet & Jean-Marie Straub

Corneille-Brecht, or Rome, Unique Object of My Resentment (2009, 26 min. 43 sec.)

(1) Corneille-Brecht ou Rome l’unique objet de mon ressentiment (Cornelia Geiser & Jean-Marie Straub, 2009)

“I hope you will be put on trial.” – Tomas Young, a dying Iraq war veteran

In leaps of physical color, Cornelia Geiser recites verses from two of Pierre Corneille’s Roman plays, Horace and Othon, followed by verses from Bertolt Brecht’s 1939 radio play The Trial of Lucullus, a powerful recitative on war crimes in fourteen short pieces (never broadcast; later turned into an opera by Brecht and Paul Dessau in East Germany).

In the Lucullus play, which Brecht said at the time “more or less reaches the limit of what can be said” in oppressive times, a Roman General is summoned to the netherworld to stand trial for the crimes and sufferings he has inflicted on the common people and slaves. A giant frieze is hauled in and analyzed for the variety of life seen plundered there.

Across centuries of Western civilization, Straub and Geiser bridge these texts of different epochs and – in two corners of a small Parisian apartment – confront the barbarous rulers of ancient Rome, the kings of 17th century France, the fascists of Europe in the 1930s and 1940s, and, by implication, those in power today.

Cumulatively, it is not the rulers who are the main characters here but the collective judgment of the oppressed upon the oppressor.

“Maybe it’s not even a movie,” Straub wondered aloud during a post-screening talk on Corneille-Brecht. Indeed, this movie is “just” a woman reading a text frontally to the camera in the same corner of Straub’s Parisian apartment (once Huillet’s mother’s) that is the site of many of the late videos, and this is the first use. But the words and their drama and intonation invoke massive friezes, ultimate judgments, conflagrations, the ‘collective hate’ of “Rome, l’unique objet de mon ressentiment,” (Corneille’s French will ring in the ears of anyone who sees all three versions of the film in succession, as intended), then goes down even deeper (with the Brecht), down to a Hades where a trial for war crimes is taking place against an imperialist, perhaps the same imperialist, perhaps any imperialist. It would be foolish to call this picture minimalist, for even if its rich sound (a baby cries on the line “…the collective hate” in version A) were turned off, one could be fascinated by the violent changes of color in wardrobe and sunlight, here effected by jump cuts – yet another cinematographic vein Straub has tapped for both sudden and gradual excitation. Fascination, magic, and belief are part of Huillet/Straub’s cinema, too, occurring amid their total opposite – analysis, critical faculty, errant thought – and back again. One may feel upon leaving the theater a sharpening of the senses.

Image from Corneille-Brecht ou Rome l’unique objet de mon ressentiment (Cornelia Geiser & Jean-Marie Straub, 2009)

 

With thanks to Oscar Pedersen, Viktor Retoft and Balthazar.

This article was originally published in Balthazar no. 9, 2023, dedicated to the work of Danièle Huillet and Jean-Marie Straub.

ARTICLE
25.10.2023
EN
In Passage, Sabzian invites film critics, authors, filmmakers and spectators to send a text or fragment on cinema that left a lasting impression.
Pour Passage, Sabzian demande à des critiques de cinéma, auteurs, cinéastes et spectateurs un texte ou un fragment qui les a marqués.
In Passage vraagt Sabzian filmcritici, auteurs, filmmakers en toeschouwers naar een tekst of een fragment dat ooit een blijvende indruk op hen achterliet.
The Prisma section is a series of short reflections on cinema. A Prisma always has the same length – exactly 2000 characters – and is accompanied by one image. It is a short-distance exercise, a miniature text in which one detail or element is refracted into the spectrum of a larger idea or observation.
La rubrique Prisma est une série de courtes réflexions sur le cinéma. Tous les Prisma ont la même longueur – exactement 2000 caractères – et sont accompagnés d'une seule image. Exercices à courte distance, les Prisma consistent en un texte miniature dans lequel un détail ou élément se détache du spectre d'une penséée ou observation plus large.
De Prisma-rubriek is een reeks korte reflecties over cinema. Een Prisma heeft altijd dezelfde lengte – precies 2000 tekens – en wordt begeleid door één beeld. Een Prisma is een oefening op de korte afstand, een miniatuurtekst waarin één detail of element in het spectrum van een grotere gedachte of observatie breekt.
Jacques Tati once said, “I want the film to start the moment you leave the cinema.” A film fixes itself in your movements and your way of looking at things. After a Chaplin film, you catch yourself doing clumsy jumps, after a Rohmer it’s always summer, and the ghost of Akerman undeniably haunts the kitchen. In this feature, a Sabzian editor takes a film outside and discovers cross-connections between cinema and life.
Jacques Tati once said, “I want the film to start the moment you leave the cinema.” A film fixes itself in your movements and your way of looking at things. After a Chaplin film, you catch yourself doing clumsy jumps, after a Rohmer it’s always summer, and the ghost of Akerman undeniably haunts the kitchen. In this feature, a Sabzian editor takes a film outside and discovers cross-connections between cinema and life.
Jacques Tati zei ooit: “Ik wil dat de film begint op het moment dat je de cinemazaal verlaat.” Een film zet zich vast in je bewegingen en je manier van kijken. Na een film van Chaplin betrap je jezelf op klungelige sprongen, na een Rohmer is het altijd zomer en de geest van Chantal Akerman waart onomstotelijk rond in de keuken. In deze rubriek neemt een Sabzian-redactielid een film mee naar buiten en ontwaart kruisverbindingen tussen cinema en leven.