Such pandemonium is commonplace among the more artistically adventurous films at any festival. Uncomfortable murmuring spawned the familiar sounds of seat backs slamming, rustling of bags, and, soon enough, mass exodus. As the light gradually dims over the lengthy real time shot, which approaches absurdity but skirts it ever so slightly, the audience’s reaction became more hostile and more hostile. Nine in the morning is hardly a time to watch any film, but Honor de cavalleria was horribly served by such scheduling: the introductory scene takes place at night, as Quixote beckons to his portly squire to fetch him a laurel crown. Speaking of the Quinzaine, it’s where I first saw the film, or a fair chunk thereof, at an infamous, maybe soon to be legendary projection: it’s rare that one sings the praises of a film that one has walked out on, but circumstances took over on the Croisette. I’m sure the average Juan had much to say about a director who dared adapt the most cherished novel in the Spanish language - none other than Cervantes’ Don Quixote - as a film that could pass for moving landscape photography, with first-time non-actors in the roles of Quixote (played by a retired tennis teacher) and Sancho Panza (a construction worker), spoken in Catalan, and shot on digital video for the price of a dinner for four at El Bulli, wine included. (1) The film’s enthusiastic introducer did not disagree: two days prior, Argentine critic and former BAFICI head Quintin went about describing the film at its Austrian unfurling using the same over-the-top phrasing, to a less dense, but equally appreciably, crowd at Vienna’s most spacious theatre, the Gartenbaukino.īut this is a refrain that I’ve heard from a certain cadre of hardcore Spanish critics since the film was premiered at the Quinzaine earlier this year, soon after being released to an unsuspecting Spanish populace.
HONOR DE CAVALLERÍA FULL
No! I swear to you.It takes a whole lot of moxie, or to use a phrase that’s appropriate for this context, cojones, to make superlative claims for your own work, but there was a defiant yet jocular Albert Serra proudly standing in front of a full house at the second screening of Honor de cavalleria (Honor of the Knights) at the Viennale making the claim that his feature debut was the greatest Spanish film of the last 30 years. Lola e Turiddu s'amano, io piango, io piango, io piango!Īnd Easter and church you are neglecting?Īnd this morning at dawn they discovered you Quell'invida d'ogni delizia mia,ĭel suo sposo dimentica, arse di gelosia. Volle spegner la fiamma che gli bruciava il core: Tornò, la seppe sposa e con un nuovo amore Voi lo sapete, o mamma, prima d'andar soldato Go you, O mother, and implore our dear Saviour Wretched am I that such things should be told me
Me she has outraged! Despoiled of my honor I live on. Of her own husband forgetful, burns now with jealousy. That evil one, for all my rightful pleasure, Would he put out the fire burning still in his bosom. Returned, he found her married and with new affection Turiddu had sworn to Lola eternal faith and love. You well know, dearest mother, when he went as a soldier, (Those in the church are heard singing Alleluia)Īnd why did you thus make the sign of silence? He's always here! I saw him but this morning
Perhaps Turiddu has gone away to buy some Have you not more of that lovely old wine? No! He was seen last night in the village Tell me, for mercy's sake, where is Turiddu? I know not, I know not bring me no trouble Humbly I beg your pardon-where I may find him O glorious Son of Salvation, heaven adorning!Īs the eagles home flying, hail we this morning! To Thee, Light of Heaven, are humbly coming! We weary, while from our labors are holden, The quick-flying spindles send out their humming To the harvest field, 'mid ears bright and golden, Wake with the dawning with songs, as do ours
Morning now murmuring, hearts that were slumbering Mingle their fragrance with incense of flowers. A sinistra l'osteria e la casa di Mamma Lucia. La scena rappresenta una piazza in un paese della Sicilia.-Nel fondo, a destra, Chiesa con porta praticabile. Ne'er shall I enter there happy, till I behold thee! Ne'er shall it hinder me, when to thee flying.ĭeath straight to heaven in its arms may enfold me Though at thy door dark blood be warningly lying, Thou shalt his soul enslave in fondest blisses! Happy the lover brave, when by thy kisses
Redder than cherries glow thy lips in brightness! O Lola! like the snow, pure in thy whiteness! On the left, an inn and the house of Mother Lucia. At the back, on the right, a church with a moveable door. The scene represents a square in a village in Sicily. Turiddu, a young villager recently returned from the army - tenor
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