KarazwLaimoon

Trailer on YouTube: Click Here

IMDB Click Here

Senses of Cinema Click Here

Dennis Grunes’ Blog Click Here

RIP Jancso Click Here

New Yorker Click Here

Kinoeye - The Denial of Opression Click Here

 

It has been fifteen years since the death of her father, Agamemnon, and Elektra (Mari Töröcsik, claiming yet another terrific role) still burns with hatred for Aegisztosz, who conspired with Elektra’s mother to kill him. “I do not forget,” she announces; Elektra is historic memory in search of justice. After a line of candle-holding women turns toward a wall, Elektra walks between rows of corpses on the ground, which then, in sync, roll off out of sight—but not out of Elektra’s mind. Meanwhile, Aegisztosz rules as a tyrant (“People are content if they know what to fear”), inducing Stalinist terror, and Elektra waits upon brother Oresztész’s return for the enactment of justice. (A line of whip-wielding guards embodies state terror’s constant threat.) Aegisztosz teases Elektra with the thought that Oresztész is dead—a way of trying to convince himself, perhaps, that he has no retribution to face; but the people rise up against their tyrant when Oresztész does return. The siblings exact their revenge, killing Aegisztosz and killing themselves, thus passing into inspirational myth to counter future tyrants. The history of Hungary is just such sacrifice. “Cursed be every tyrant,” Elektra has said, “and blessed be everyone who resists tyranny.”

 

Jancso is known for his wonderful choreography. The shots in the film as long as the spool could hold, sometimes 10 minutes, i.e., 7 or 8 cuts. A similar style was used in