10/10
Though in caves pursued he lie,Exhaustive, claustrophobic, circular, discordant, hopeless, weeping, wailing, and a gnashing of teeth, Tarr's camera work and photo direction is powerful (especially during the dance when the wife is sitting, and sitting, and sitting, quietly repressing her pent-up frustrations...), a must-watch short film for Bela Tarr fans.
Even then he fears attacks.
Coming forth the land to spy,
Even a home he finds he lacks.
Mountain, vale – go where he would,
Grief and sorrow all the same –
Underneath a sea of blood,
While above a sea of flame.
‘Neath the fort, a ruin now,
Joy and pleasure erst were found,
Only groans and sighs, I trow,
In its limits now abound.
But no freedom’s flowers return
From the spilt blood of the dead,
And the tears of slavery burn,
Which the eyes of orphans shed.
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