Journal of Film Preservation - FIAF

Helsinki, ikuisesti / Helsinki, Forever
(Peter von Bagh, Finlande 2008) est fort
différent des deux films précédents.
Pourtant, comme Bourdon et Davies,
von Bagh nous parle de changements,
mais le commentaire attache plus
d’importance au matériel d’archives
en tant que tel. De plus, von Bagh
ne se limite pas à utiliser du matériel
d’archives; il utilise des séquences de
films de fiction tournés à Helsinki et
des tableaux (qui datent parfois d’avant
l’arrivée du cinéma) qui apportent
un élément de couleur manquant
aux archives en noir et blanc. Comme
chez Davies, le commentaire est fait
d’emprunts multiples et de la musique
des films de fiction cités, mais ce
sont les réflexions de von Bagh sur le
matériel d’archives et sur la fiction qui
constituent l’élément le plus original
de ce commentaire, notamment les
passages sur la relation entre le présent
et le passé.
Le film de Peter von Bagh est un film
sur Helsinki, bien sûr, mais c’est aussi un
film sur la magie des vieilles images. Et
l’époustouflante séquence d’ouverture
(un cargo fendant les glaces du port
d’Helsinki au milieu des badauds euxmêmes
sur la glace) en constitue déjà
la démonstration, comme le fera aussi
magnifiquement la séquence qui clôt
le film (le retour des troupes) et qui
permet à von Bagh de terminer sa
réflexion par ces mots : « L’histoire nous
regarde ».
Le dernier des « city films » ici recensés
est d’un mode fort différent. The
London Nobody Knows (Norman
Cohen, UK 1967) s’appuie sur un livre
de Geoffrey Fletcher qui proposait de
visiter des lieux de Londres disparus et
oubliés, si ce n’est par leurs habitants. Il
s’agit ici de filmer des lieux à la veille de
disparaître : ainsi en est-il d’un théâtre
du quartier de Bedford, finalement rasé
deux ans après le tournage du film.
Autre élément particulier : le film utilise
un « guide » : James Mason, casquette
plate et veste de tweed, nous promène
en ces lieux de façon tout à fait
convaincante. Enfin le commentaire,
parfois ironique, insiste sur le fait que
ce Londres-là, même en partie démoli,
a encore une vraie vie de quartier.
P.S. Comme le signale l’auteur dans
ses paragraphes de conclusion, le
visionnement (et la projection sur
grand écran) de ces films, tous d’une
the heart of the city and the film cuts to the downtown as night falls.
Frequently, it is people that provide the cutting points: a look, a gesture.
The film ends in silence as an old man walks down a tunnel arch under
some buildings and out of sight. The old must give way to the new. But
there is a coda, in some ways strange, with the credits of the film, scenes
from Expo 67. This hugely successful world exposition comes full circle
from the beginning of the film, where Montréal is seen as the gateway to
Canada. Here in 1967 Montréal is a gateway for Canada to welcome the
peoples of the world. Expo is remembered with affection and pride across
Canada – a moment when Canadians seemed to come together as a nation,
filled with hope for the future. An irony, if one remembers the nationalist
emotions on fire in Québec in 1967. For others, like myself, a sadness. The
hope in that glowing colour footage seems diminished in Canada today.
I first saw La Mémoire with a Montréal audience. The result was electric, an
audience moved to a profound silence. There has been debate as to how
well the film will travel. We are not told the location, nor is there any setup
for, say, a viewer in Germany. I myself wonder if there should be a brief
introduction, a text on the screen. I have now seen the film several times,
and accept what must be Bourdon’s position – that there is a humanity and
experience common to all of us who live in Western urban environments.
That commonality will deliver itself to all viewers who open themselves to
this extraordinary film.
La Mémoire comes in two forms, an original French version and a subtitled
English version. Rather cleverly, one can play the French version or the
English one on the DVD, rather than hunting for the language option.
In other words, not as is the usual practice, is there an original version
with optional subtitles. One can switch to the extras in the same manner.
The main extra is a shortish interview with the director and editor. For
the English version one is presented with a different interview with the
same people but in English, not subtitled. Unfortunately, and perhaps
unsurprisingly, the English interviews are not as informative as the French,
which give more insight into the process and the philosophy underlying
the film. The end result is bit unsatisfying. There is a way in which extras
have now become a bind for producers and distributors. Companies like
Criterion and big studios (e.g., Warner Brothers) have raised the ante, and
the public now expects more than a brief interview; and this is a problem,
since extras cost money to make! There are, however, two very useful film
extras with La Mémoire, Inland Port and Parc Lafontaine. Footage from both
figures strongly in the film and one gets a first notion of Bourdon’s editing
process. This heightens my feelings that a whole richness of possibilities
has been missed in the extras accompanying the film. Strangely enough,
perhaps intentionally, Inland Port sets up La Mémoire for non-Montréal
audiences admirably.
There is no printed documentation with the film. This is a pity. Luc Bourdon
has been interviewed in print. There is a very enlightening interview with
him in the Canadian film journal 24 Images. I mention this because there is
a good booklet with Of Time and the City. The extras with Of Time and the
City are perfectly satisfactory. There is a process documentary with the two
producers, Roy Boulter and Solon Papadopolous, the archive researcher,
Jim Anderson, and Davies himself. This is enlightening, as is an edited Q
& A with Davies from a screening of the film. I did wonder if there was
59 Journal of Film Preservation / 81 / 2009