A film doesn't have to be old to be a classic. I define a classic film as one that has either stood the test of time or that can be expected to stand the test of time in the distant future. By this definition, a small number of the films being produced today are legitimate classics.
One such film is The Mill & the Cross, which I saw for the first time yesterday. It's been more than 24 hours and I still can't get this film out of my head. I even lost sleep over it last night. Quite simply, it is the finest example of pure film that I have seen in many years. I have to go back to the great silent film The Passion of Joan of Arc to find anything comparable. I first saw that film more than 50 years ago, and the image of the face of the great actress Falconetti, who played Joan, has been burned into my conscienceness ever since.
The Mill & the Cross is that same kind of film. It was released in 2010 but didn't make it to the United States until last year. This modern classic was produced and directed by the brilliant Polish filmmaker Lech Majewski, who also created some of the cinematography and music for the film. It was inspired by the painting "The Way to Calvary" by the great Flemish painter Peter Breugel the Elder. Breugel is played by Rutger Hauer; Michael York portrays his benefactor, a banker; and Charlotte Rampling plays Breugel's mother, who served as his model for the Virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ. Although there are hundreds of townspeople in the film, including many who will appear in the painting, these three actors have the only speaking roles.
The story line is basically a reenactment of the Crucifixion of Jesus as it might have occurred in Breugel's time. For example, instead of Roman soldiers subjugating the Jews, there are Spanish conquerors going around and killing infidels; in other words, just about anyone who is not Roman Catholic.
There is very little dialogue in the film, nor is it necessary. Most of it consists of Breugel showing the banker his sketches for the painting and calling his attention to some of his fine points. Much of the action takes place in an open field that is dominated in the back by a huge rock, at the top of which is a windmill that is used to power a very elaborate piece of machinery that produces grain. The machine itself is a marvel of mechanical engineering.
The first half of the film focuses on the daily lives of the townspeople, in particular the miller and his family, while the second half deals mostly with the reenactment of the Crucifixion. Some viewers may not be impressed by the film because the story line is sparse and, as noted, the dialogue is minimal. As a result, the sound track becomes twice as important as usual. The sound designers and engineers are more than up to the task, so that you begin to notice sounds, such as the songs of birds, that are normally in the background.
For me, the brilliance of Majewski and his film is in the way that he and his co-cinematographer have captured the look of Bruegel and the other great Dutch masters. The colors, lighting, and composition are so well done as to be unbelievable. If Breugel and the other Dutch masters were alive today and working in film rather than painting, this is how their films would look.
This is pure cinema at its best. Just about every camera shot is a stunning jaw-dropper. This is a film that grabs you with the opening scene and doesn't let go. To find anything comparable, I have to go back to the great silent films such as Battleship Potemkin and especially, as mentioned above, The Passion of Joan of Arc. One might also compare it to Charlie Chaplin's classics, City Lights and Modern Times, which were made after the introduction of sound and had sound tracks with sound effcts but no dialogue. The ability to "shoot silent" affords the director and the cinematographer a great deal of freedom and flexibility that they don't have when they have to record dialogue.
I have a feeling that I could come into this film at any point and find myself unable to switch away from it until the end. The only other film that has had that effect on me is The Passion of Joan of Arc, which is one of the two or three greatest films that I have ever seen. I have the Criterion Collection release of the restored version, and it is a gem. (Roger Ebert has called the Criterion Collection the Rolls-Royce of DVD film publishers, and I agree with Roger.) Therefore I can watch the film whenever I want.
One night a few years ago, I turned on the TV to watch something or other. The set-top box was tuned to Turner Classic Movies, which was showing the Passion. It was about 30 minutes into the film, and yet the Passion is so powerful and compelling that I could not turn away from it. The something or other that I had originally intended to watch had to wait until the end.
At the recent Academy Awards, there were many films that received more attention and awards than The Mill & the Cross. Not having seen many of these films, I must assume that they deserved their awards, and it would be unfair for me to comment on their quality. And yet, I have this feeling that 50 years from now, people who care about quality films will watch The Mill & the Cross many times more often than they will watch most of the other films that were released last year. This film is a classic for the ages.
One final note. The film has just shown up on Video on Demand, at least in my area. I recommend that you pay the rental fee and watch it now. I would expect that most of the other good films from 2011 that are showing up on Video on Demand will eventually be picked up by premium movie channels such as HBO, Showtime, and Starz. If you subscribe to these premium channels, you'll be able to watch them at that time at no additional cost. However, The Mill & the Cross is the type of art film that might not be picked up by the movie channels, so watch it now while you still can.
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