| GOING TO THE DOGS : Alain Tanner's 'In the White City' (1983) [4/10] |
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| Sunday, 08 April 2007 | |
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There have been scandalously few feature-films made on the fascinating subject of greyhound racing: the IMDb lists only On Top of the World (1936), Third Time Lucky (1948) The Gay Dog (1954), Steptoe and Son Ride Again (1973) and Jerry and Tom (1998). Fans of the sport who reckon they've found another to add to this list when stumbling across mention of Alain Tanner's In the White City are, however, in for a disappointment. The 'White City' of the title has nothing to do with the legendary, long-demolished dog tracks in London and Manchester which shared the name - although, coincidentally enough, the film was shot in 1982, the same year that Manchester's White City stadium was demolished. Nor is it connected with the 'white city' constructed for the 1893 Chicago World's Fair - backdrop for Erik Larson's cracking 2003 page-turner The Devil in the White City. Tanner's 'white city' is, instead, Lisbon - known locally as la ciudad branca due to the colour of many of its buildings. The Portuguese capital is also referred to as 'the city of the seven hills' or 'the mother of sailors,' and each of these nicknames finds illustration in the film narrative. Our hero is Paul (Bruno Ganz), a Swiss-German merchant mariner who, tired of his oceangoing existence, jumps ship and spends his days either exploring the city's many nooks and crannies - tramping up and down what looks like most of those seven hills in the process - or cooling his heels in his airy hotel-room. Paul often films himself with a miniature 8mm movie-camera, and sends the resulting 'movies' back to his wife/girlfriend Elisa (Julia Vonderlinn) in Switzerland - along with rambling, confessional, ruminative letters. Paul holds nothing back, telling Elisa all about his torrid affair with fiery barmaid/chambermaid Rosa (Teresa Madruga), and how he's able to love two women at the same time. Perhaps unsurprisingly, neither Elisa nor Rosa are particularly pleased about this situation, and Rosa soon flees Portugal to work in France. Paul is initially distraught but, like a cork on the tide, is able to remain buoyant as he's tossed hither and yon by life's vicissitudes - even after receiving a knife in the chest from a small-time crook previously responsible for stealing his wallet. Despite such melodramatic touches, Tanner isn't much bothered about plot. The film has no credited scriptwriter, being reportedly the result of improvisations between the director and his performers. Tanner follows Paul/Ganz around Lisbon, Acacio de Almeida's gliding camerawork punctuated by much rougher, silent sequences consisting of the footage shot by Paul's 8mm camera. In between, Paul muses on his situation of becalmed detachment - his immobility, we're told at one point, comparable to that of the Mexican lake salamander known as the 'axolotl,' subject of a short story by Argentinian writer Julio Cortazar. Cortazar's work formed the basis for Michelangelo Antonioni's Blow Up, though the Antonioni picture which In the White City more closely resembles is The Passenger, specifically those sequences in which the central character (played by Jack Nicholson) explored Barcelona. Paul's midlife crisis and soul-searching monologues also carry more than a whiff of Bernardo Bertolucci's Last Tango In Paris - a film which, like The Passenger, featured Maria Schneider as its female lead. In the White City is, however, rather small beer alongside The Passenger and Last Tango In Paris. Ganz's Paul doesn't make especially stimulating company over the course of 100-odd minutes, which is somewhat unfortunate as he's present in just about every scene. Alternately morose and larkish, Paul behaves more like a spoilt teenager seeking kicks than a mature man-of-the-world in search of a new beginning. His philosophical fumblings seldom rise above the sophomoric: the 'white city' of the title turns out not to be an actual place, more a 'state of mind', a zone of solitude and introspection. It comes as no surprise when Rosa tires of his charms - indeed, so striking is Madruga's presence (she's like a raven-haired cousin of Natacha Regnier) that you wish Tanner had followed her to France rather than remain in Lisbon with the mopingly self-indulgent Paul. We don't even get much sense of the city's fabled atmosphere. In 1982, Portugal was experiencing a fascinating transitional phase, having finally emerged from the Salazar-dominated dictatorship years after 1974's coup paving the way for eventual EU membership in 1986. The revision of the constitution in 1982 was a crucial step in this development, but you'd never guess it from Tanner's film - a few bits of political graffiti, and a TV showing a World Cup game (from over the border in Spain) are the only nods toward contemporary events. Of course, Tanner would argue that he wasn't making a documentary about Portuguese politics, but instead examining the state of mind of one particular individual. Even on this level, however, In the White City doesn't really pass muster: it looks like the result of some talented actors hanging out with a talented cinematographer in a picturesque city, while an acclaimed director groped vainly in search of ideas. The smugly solipsistic, ploddingly hermetic results are the kind of thing that give art-for-art's-sake cinema a bad name (complete with an intrusive, too-loud bluesy score from Jean-Luc Barbier that's seemingly designed to underline the deep significance of every gesture, every look, every last meaningful silence) and ensure that it isn't only fans of canine sporting endeavour who'll be left feeling decidedly short-changed. Neil Young 8th April, 2007 IN THE WHITE CITY : [4/10] : Portugal (Por/Swi/UK/Ger) 1983 : Alain TANNER : 108 mins (BBFC timing) seen on VHS in Sunderland (UK), 7th April 2007 - with thanks to David Miller |
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