Faust Sonnengesang II (2015)
Werner Fritsch • 🇩🇪
Essay Film, Experimental Montage
Ein Filmgedicht aus der Sonne
This cosmic emergence initiates on one seemingly mundane evening, Faustus skidding off to the depths of mountains as Bach chorale plays on car radio; where is he? what are these voices? what succeeds here and now?
Be it the landscape photography, be it the microscopic close-ups, be it the opaque (and transparent) superimpositions, be it the splashed textures, be it the blurred and burned images from genetic codes, be it the advancing cut-up frames or be it sporadic entry (or exit) of fleeting objects into the landscape; Werner Fritsch excels in every device he utilises to paint the opus of his life, the Faust Sonnengesang series, the second episode of which is almost as unwavering as the first, in sheer grandiosity of vision. His images shift colours both like the new blood going into the placenta, and like a decapitated gash spilling its last blood; His camera inspects textures through mono and stereo, reflects them through a mirror shattered to a heptagonal shape, or a mirror shattered into the tiniest of sharpnels. His conjugation of different entities is so spontaneous that afterwards it becomes to difficult to imagine them separately. And yet, what surpasses this awe-inspiring brilliance of image-crafting, is the extended passages of voice-overs, presented in both prose and verses. Assuming they were all written by him, Werner puts many lyricists to shame and challenges the likes of Yeats, Tagore, Stevens. Then there is (presumably) his expressive voice reciting them; and many disembodied voices, intimate and distant, subterranean and celestial.
Plotwise, the progression of the film remains till the end deliberately intangible, for which its alternating modes can be held accountable. Although, there seems to be a preoccupation with the deutscher-traum, the horrors of Nazi Germany and the question on God, among others. However, these themes are only scraped on the surface, Fritsch ensures to only suggest where the movements are. One particularly remarkable moment in the film is where he utters, "This film touches the skin of reality", as the alleged battering and crucifixion of a Filipino Jesus is beheld.
Throughout times, cultures, continents and histories, Werner Fritsch repeatedly tends to the absolute point, with each climax of series vignettes wrapped in cosmic splendour.
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