I've never seen Ordet, except for a clip of the ending at some point, so obviously I cannot really speak to how Silent Light reflects on the earlier film, although while watching it is apparent that Dreyer is an influence. Still, I had no idea where it was going until Marianne was in the room with Esther.
In a way it gives you a different effect than Ordet must have. You're kind of anticipating the miracle, and since many, if not most who would watch Ordet for the first time nowadays would know about the famous final scene, in some ways it makes Silent Light fresher. Actively wondering if Reygadas will go that far is almost as engaging as if it had been a complete surprise. That he does feels almost like a metatextual reaffirmation of faith.
On its own the scene is as beautifully depicted as any in recent memory. Likewise the scene with Esther and Johan at the tree is as heartbreaking as anything. And though my lack of knowledge about Christianity probably prevents me from appreciating the film fully, I have to say its measured, graceful tone, and the bookend shots, where braying animal noises contrast with awe inspiring visuals, left me reflecting on a quote from that great pragmatist, Robert Frost:
Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
The characters in the film are all striving to live as best as they can, but sometimes in every life conflicts arise and we reach a breaking point. At those times perhaps it takes some measure of grace to let us down gently and set things back to right. In the case of Silent Light, there is a divine grace, but there is also the grace of Marianne. Where does one begin and the other end, or are they inextricably linked? Maybe god only speaks through us.
In a way it gives you a different effect than Ordet must have. You're kind of anticipating the miracle, and since many, if not most who would watch Ordet for the first time nowadays would know about the famous final scene, in some ways it makes Silent Light fresher. Actively wondering if Reygadas will go that far is almost as engaging as if it had been a complete surprise. That he does feels almost like a metatextual reaffirmation of faith.
On its own the scene is as beautifully depicted as any in recent memory. Likewise the scene with Esther and Johan at the tree is as heartbreaking as anything. And though my lack of knowledge about Christianity probably prevents me from appreciating the film fully, I have to say its measured, graceful tone, and the bookend shots, where braying animal noises contrast with awe inspiring visuals, left me reflecting on a quote from that great pragmatist, Robert Frost:
Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
The characters in the film are all striving to live as best as they can, but sometimes in every life conflicts arise and we reach a breaking point. At those times perhaps it takes some measure of grace to let us down gently and set things back to right. In the case of Silent Light, there is a divine grace, but there is also the grace of Marianne. Where does one begin and the other end, or are they inextricably linked? Maybe god only speaks through us.
