David O'ConnellThe Homecoming (I epistrofi)
February 5th 2010 03:40
Time changes everything. Especially for a man returning to this homeland after 35 years, with innocent, almost naïve, expectations of reverting back to the ways of a bygone era. Is it possible for Ilias (Arto Apartian) to recapture the essence of life in a tiny Greek village, held close to his heart for so long? Unlikely, for though a stern patriarchal figure, Ilias is a man harboring quaint delusions that are bound to punish him.
His younger wife Eleni (Maria Skoula) is resentful of their recent return from Germany. Though gratefully lured away from the changeless, inexplicable boredom of her past life by Ilias’s charm, she found herself no better off in that foreign place, domesticated and pining for home. Now, a return to Greece seems even less attractive; hardly a final reward for tough living and wifely devotion. She sees no paradise into which she can blissfully retire, only suffocation in a backwards place of exile, fighting tedium all over again. Their daughter Alexandra, born in Germany, can’t imagine life here and abandoned, Eleni is left only with a sullen, remorseless husband clinging to obsolete memories.
When renovations to their house fall behind schedule, Ilias decides to hire an Albanian hitchhiker, Petros (Artur Luzi), to speed things up. Impressed by his industriousness, he hires him full-time to assist with the running of his petrol station and tavern. It will be a fateful decision, Ilias’s faith sorely misguided, for the presence of Petros is the kind of distraction to further underline the empty spaces in Eleni's life.
Writer-director Vasilis Douvlis’s film assumes the shape of familiar dramatic scenarios; here, in a meeker incarnation, it might seen like a variation on The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946), only without the overwrought dynamism. The isolated rural location means the writing needed to be economical for the interplay to work and develop nuances. It is, though for a while Douvlis relies a little too much on searing, meaningful glances between Eleni and Petros as they look for recognition in one another’s eyes.
Petros doesn’t require particularly keen insight to see that Eleni is a profoundly unhappy woman, trapped between morbid duty and a lack of feasible exit routes. There are obvious parallels between the pair; Petros too is trapped in a land where his illegal status draws the resentment of every local, meaning little respite from suspicion. His play for Eleni's affections is clumsy and decidedly unromantic but gets the required result. Only when it’s too late does he realise that matters are getting out of hand, and that a definitive step needs to be taken one way or the other to resolve things. There’s an endearing simplicity to his world view but it's one that will eventually undermine him, laying the foundation for tragedy.
The structure of the film may be overly familiar but its slowly evolving tension does have its attractions. Much rests on the shoulders of leading lady Skoula and, critically, she gives the strongest performance as the centerpiece in this irrational triangular equation. For Petros, the consequences are more clearly defined; for Eleni, bound by moral duty on one hand, either option has the potential for disaster, exacerbating her sense of confinement.
This simple but compelling tale is inflected with elements of classic melodrama, with unhappy existences tempted by potentially ruinous primal emotions. Kostas Gikas’s cinematography skillfully captures the authenticity of a way of living that has the appearance of grinding to a halt, without drawing attention to itself. Then there's the subdued, flavourful music of Thodoris Abazis which adds another tinge of melancholy to this unassuming, believable drama.
The Homecoming will be screening on Sunday, March 14 at Melbourne's ACMI (Australian Centre for the Moving Image) as part of their Windows on Europe season.
His younger wife Eleni (Maria Skoula) is resentful of their recent return from Germany. Though gratefully lured away from the changeless, inexplicable boredom of her past life by Ilias’s charm, she found herself no better off in that foreign place, domesticated and pining for home. Now, a return to Greece seems even less attractive; hardly a final reward for tough living and wifely devotion. She sees no paradise into which she can blissfully retire, only suffocation in a backwards place of exile, fighting tedium all over again. Their daughter Alexandra, born in Germany, can’t imagine life here and abandoned, Eleni is left only with a sullen, remorseless husband clinging to obsolete memories.
Eleni (Maria Skoula) contemplates the open road out of town
When renovations to their house fall behind schedule, Ilias decides to hire an Albanian hitchhiker, Petros (Artur Luzi), to speed things up. Impressed by his industriousness, he hires him full-time to assist with the running of his petrol station and tavern. It will be a fateful decision, Ilias’s faith sorely misguided, for the presence of Petros is the kind of distraction to further underline the empty spaces in Eleni's life.
Writer-director Vasilis Douvlis’s film assumes the shape of familiar dramatic scenarios; here, in a meeker incarnation, it might seen like a variation on The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946), only without the overwrought dynamism. The isolated rural location means the writing needed to be economical for the interplay to work and develop nuances. It is, though for a while Douvlis relies a little too much on searing, meaningful glances between Eleni and Petros as they look for recognition in one another’s eyes.
Petros doesn’t require particularly keen insight to see that Eleni is a profoundly unhappy woman, trapped between morbid duty and a lack of feasible exit routes. There are obvious parallels between the pair; Petros too is trapped in a land where his illegal status draws the resentment of every local, meaning little respite from suspicion. His play for Eleni's affections is clumsy and decidedly unromantic but gets the required result. Only when it’s too late does he realise that matters are getting out of hand, and that a definitive step needs to be taken one way or the other to resolve things. There’s an endearing simplicity to his world view but it's one that will eventually undermine him, laying the foundation for tragedy.
Petros (Artur Luzi)
The structure of the film may be overly familiar but its slowly evolving tension does have its attractions. Much rests on the shoulders of leading lady Skoula and, critically, she gives the strongest performance as the centerpiece in this irrational triangular equation. For Petros, the consequences are more clearly defined; for Eleni, bound by moral duty on one hand, either option has the potential for disaster, exacerbating her sense of confinement.
This simple but compelling tale is inflected with elements of classic melodrama, with unhappy existences tempted by potentially ruinous primal emotions. Kostas Gikas’s cinematography skillfully captures the authenticity of a way of living that has the appearance of grinding to a halt, without drawing attention to itself. Then there's the subdued, flavourful music of Thodoris Abazis which adds another tinge of melancholy to this unassuming, believable drama.
The Homecoming will be screening on Sunday, March 14 at Melbourne's ACMI (Australian Centre for the Moving Image) as part of their Windows on Europe season.
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