A 17th century drama about the antediluvian act of witchery persecution and the excruciating human benightedness inflicted by religious indoctrination, Carl Theodor Dreyer’sDAY OF WRATH is a sublimely slow-paced threnody that sets to shock and awe.
Prior to Ingmar Bergman’s soul-searching felicity in psychoanalyzing our mentation on the existential basis, on that same Scandinavian land, Dreyer’s moreclinical and religion-inflected study has already plunged its scalpel into the realm of complex and DAY OF WRATH, albeit its archaic subject matter, is a cinematic accomplishment nonpareil.
In the central there is a simple moral allegory, Anne (Movin) is the much younger wife of the gaunt rector Absalon (Roose), she falls for the latter’s adult son Martin (Rye) from his first marriage, and her feeling is reciprocated, but their forbidden affair can never reach a happy ending because of the overshadowing witch-hunting, an example has been set by an elderly woman Marte (Svierkier), who has been accused as such and is subjected to the stake for immolation and before perishing, an anguished Marte implores Absalon in vain to save her just like he has bailed out Anne’s mother from the same undoing, which also explains his unbefitting union with Anne in the first place.
Advancing with assignations with Martin and domestic hostility with Absalon’s stern mother Merete (a horrific Neiiendam), Anne comes off as a self-liberating soul bent on sloughing herself from the loveless arranged marriage, she is cunning enough to ensure that Martin is on the same page with her but naively takes his affection for granted and ignores a man's guilt stemming from betraying his own father. It takes two to tango but eventually, it is only the woman who has to pay for the consequence in an era that no scientific post-mortem is at hand to find out the true cause of a death, thus it is easily to blame it on a woman’s curse and then denounces her as a witch. And amplifying a mystical tenor of the occurrences, Dreyer takes an equivocal view on the witchery itself, because apparently both Merete's and Anne’s curses are eventually fulfilled, so maybe they are witches after all, which sends out a contrarian message might leave viewers considerably bewildered.
Dreyer channels a more animated and poignant performance out ofLisbeth Movin’s Anne in tandem with a stiffer and more forthright acting bent of other thespians, and incredibly constructs a solemn chiaroscuro environment out of its austere setting with superb compositional choices (awe-striking portraitures galore) and camera mobility, the film is draped with a vampiric ominousness even in the outdoor scenes, which is not relieved by the portentous score.
It is not a comforting chamber piece to wallow in and requires a certain acquired taste and religious nourishment for Dreyer’s sense of rhythm and a story so execrably backward. But credits must be bestowed to Dreyer’ssymbolic coup de maître amongst others, for example, that final shot morphing from a cross to a stake is simply here to stay to remind us there is a thin fine line between religious devotion and theological abuses.
referential point: Ingmar Bergman’s PERSONA (1966, 7.7/10)
A 17th century drama about the antediluvian act of witchery persecution and the excruciating human benightedness inflicted by religious indoctrination, Carl Theodor Dreyer’sDAY OF WRATH is a sublimely slow-paced threnody that sets to shock and awe.
Prior to Ingmar Bergman’s soul-searching felicity in psychoanalyzing our mentation on the existential basis, on that same Scandinavian land, Dreyer’s moreclinical and religion-inflected study has already plunged its scalpel into the realm of complex and DAY OF WRATH, albeit its archaic subject matter, is a cinematic accomplishment nonpareil.
In the central there is a simple moral allegory, Anne (Movin) is the much younger wife of the gaunt rector Absalon (Roose), she falls for the latter’s adult son Martin (Rye) from his first marriage, and her feeling is reciprocated, but their forbidden affair can never reach a happy ending because of the overshadowing witch-hunting, an example has been set by an elderly woman Marte (Svierkier), who has been accused as such and is subjected to the stake for immolation and before perishing, an anguished Marte implores Absalon in vain to save her just like he has bailed out Anne’s mother from the same undoing, which also explains his unbefitting union with Anne in the first place.
Advancing with assignations with Martin and domestic hostility with Absalon’s stern mother Merete (a horrific Neiiendam), Anne comes off as a self-liberating soul bent on sloughing herself from the loveless arranged marriage, she is cunning enough to ensure that Martin is on the same page with her but naively takes his affection for granted and ignores a man's guilt stemming from betraying his own father. It takes two to tango but eventually, it is only the woman who has to pay for the consequence in an era that no scientific post-mortem is at hand to find out the true cause of a death, thus it is easily to blame it on a woman’s curse and then denounces her as a witch. And amplifying a mystical tenor of the occurrences, Dreyer takes an equivocal view on the witchery itself, because apparently both Merete's and Anne’s curses are eventually fulfilled, so maybe they are witches after all, which sends out a contrarian message might leave viewers considerably bewildered.
Dreyer channels a more animated and poignant performance out ofLisbeth Movin’s Anne in tandem with a stiffer and more forthright acting bent of other thespians, and incredibly constructs a solemn chiaroscuro environment out of its austere setting with superb compositional choices (awe-striking portraitures galore) and camera mobility, the film is draped with a vampiric ominousness even in the outdoor scenes, which is not relieved by the portentous score.
It is not a comforting chamber piece to wallow in and requires a certain acquired taste and religious nourishment for Dreyer’s sense of rhythm and a story so execrably backward. But credits must be bestowed to Dreyer’ssymbolic coup de maître amongst others, for example, that final shot morphing from a cross to a stake is simply here to stay to remind us there is a thin fine line between religious devotion and theological abuses.
referential point: Ingmar Bergman’s PERSONA (1966, 7.7/10)
关于中世纪女巫悲惨命运的文学和电影作品都不少。恰恰中世纪也是基督教最鼎盛的时期，教会的力量几乎可以决定一切。正是这种独断的精神和权利统治让民众可以心安理得的以正义的名义迫害他人，这与某朝某段时期何其相似。
影片中好心帮人治病反被指认为女巫的老太太在教会的刑讯逼供下被迫承认了自己是女巫，她凄厉的喊叫，撕心裂肺的疼痛无法承受。当教会要她供出其他女巫时，她隐瞒了牧师已经死去的岳母是女巫的事实。她这么做为的就是希望牧师对自己网开一面，不要烧死她，因为牧师曾经知道岳母是女巫但放过了岳母。可地位崇高的牧师代表了“正义”，代表了上帝。牧师最终还是冷酷的将老太太送上了火刑架。在被推入火焰之前，老太太绝望的喊叫着：我不管自己到底是上天堂还是下地狱，我只想活着，我不想被烧死，不要烧死我！不要烧死我！老太太的哀嚎让人汗毛竖立，最后死前老太太对牧师及其家人下了可怖诅咒。
年迈的牧师曾经之所以放过了被指认为女巫的岳母，完全是因为他希望通过展示自己的权利来得到年轻善良的妻子，也就是女主，他的第二任妻子安妮。他得到了，可这不是爱情，安妮憎恨他，同时也憎恨牧师刻薄的母亲。牧师的母亲之始至终都是一副严肃，高高在上，刻薄的贱人面孔，无时无刻不在刁难儿媳妇。
安妮与老牧师的儿子产生了感情，他们两背着牧师在暗地里谈着恋爱，说着情话，很是幸福。最终安妮告诉了老牧师自己与他儿子通奸的事情，牧师被活活气死了。这是妻子一直盼望的事情，自己痛恨的丈夫死掉，然后和丈夫的儿子坚守爱情。一开始丈夫的儿子是站在她这一边的，可在牧师的葬礼上，牧师的母亲却指认妻子是女巫，而牧师的儿子立刻翻脸站在了奶奶这一边，留下独自战斗的安妮面对莫须有的罪名。安妮在死去的牧师棺材前承认自己是女巫，显然，此时的她只想赶快结束自己的生命，等待她的将是火刑。
德莱叶的影片灯光和镜头可谓十分讲究。被陷害的女巫凄厉的叫声，恐惧的神情，被折磨的段落，德莱叶用了大量斜下俯拍的镜头和高光让观看者处在上帝视角，看着“女巫”面对圣光求饶，让人产生极大的共情反应。
末尾的镜头长时间聚焦在了宛如圣母般静立的安妮，她接受了“审判”，平静地说：“没人来帮我把泪水擦掉”。
要我说，别想着被拯救了，自己擦吧。
安妮像不像安娜卡列尼娜？从事神职的丈夫对她的内心漠不关心，和“闯入者”马丁光速坠入爱情漩涡，最后发现对方其实是这个家庭的“回归者”，根本配不上她热烈的爱意。她是唯一受不了旁观火刑的人，也是马丁的逃离让她更想亲近他。她以为他们是一类人。马丁在父亲的尸体旁为自己的情感表露而道歉，他的感谢和抽噎，神职人员们恐怕听不懂，其中一位甚至侧过脸拢起了耳朵，他听不见。情感是在他们生命之外的未知，比神更神秘，他们勤勤恳恳的只是遵守教规和偶尔利用它来满足私欲。
哪知道马丁只是听奶奶（安妮的婆婆）说了几句，就相信了安妮是女巫的指控。他对她的爱慕是因为巫术？
多么讽刺，这些”虔诚“的教徒把她的爱说成是巫术。
马丁曾说在安妮的眼里看到的不是父亲口中的纯真，而是深邃和神秘，他看到了颤动的火焰，安妮回答：这是你点燃的。果真如此？不是自燃的吗？而马丁只是恰好来了。她笔下的苹果树明明只有一朵花，密密缝成的拿着花束的女人也只有一个，甚至没有天使作伴，当她扶马丁坐上属于一家之主的座椅，不禁想：你为什么不自己坐上去？她说欣赏树的美，看自己影子的快乐，马丁是那个影子。马丁在父亲死后就陷入了迷茫，镜头里的迷雾是他心境的外化。他还是个孩子，连计划都没学会，怎么回应她的期待？
而安妮的牧师丈夫对爱一无所知。当她向他祈求快乐和安慰时，他走出框外，选择和上帝对话，比起理解和爱意，安妮的表达只会愈发激起他的恐惧，于是他也无助地祈祷和叩问。爱只属于大自然，不会在这个家庭发生，复仇之日的圣咏旋律到了野外便变得梦幻，直到嬉戏的安妮和马丁看到推车上被用来实施火刑的木材，难得的轻盈也破灭了。
这是个怎样的家庭？无情无爱，层层掌控，快乐在这里是令人厌恶和警惕的，但安妮的快活神情也让丈夫和婆婆——这些高高在上的“主人”，头发乱了，帽子没了，体面不再，丈夫甚至渐渐怀疑自己：为什么临死前大家无一例外都在说罪孽？他有没有再多质疑一句：是因为大家从没体验过幸福吗？
真正需要被审判的人，开头的逼供者——在片头钩子的影子正指向他，而真正的复仇之日，风声呼啸，死亡如风逼近，掠过牧师的脸庞。
女主演神采了得，尤其是双眼，寡言的安妮瞬间笃定强硬极具反差魅力，闪烁的眼睛是巫术？明明是人性之光，向清规戒律说不就被冠以女巫的罪名，那是魔鬼？明明是自我发现和解放的心魂。她因情感的奔放如此耀眼，对婆婆来说越发陌生而危险，以至于要被毁掉。
今年的德莱叶作品展看到这部完全被征服了。教科书式拍人物对话，沉静顺滑，一点移动，近景宛如刻刀一镜一刀雕刻人物形象，又以伦勃朗式光影晕染出人物心绪的变幻，阴影面积和内心展露也许成正比。他力求的简洁在凸显情绪表情时可以四两拨千斤地表现复杂，直击观众内心。和伯格曼，帕索里尼的相似题材作品对比，德莱叶有独一份的温和与笃定。紧接着看的《词语》简直宛如神力加持，弄不明白自己是怎么被持续击中的。
片尾的十字架和木桩长得很像，信仰的虔诚和滥用也只是一线之隔。如果说这部讲的是曾经的信仰过热和滥用，《词语》则是关于如今的信仰冷淡和缺失。只是，女人们啊，还是逃不开做老妈子的命运。这也许不是德莱叶所提倡的，毕竟，《词语》里Igner未曾如家人的愿生下男婴，但短暂的黑白（死亡）之后，生命继续。Igner的复活是奇迹，但生的奇迹不是生育，而是相信生的喜悦，并活出生的多彩。
就像Igner说的，她相信很多小奇迹在发生，如果着实有神的旨意，避免人们大惊小怪，还是低调点好（毕竟狂热的亏吃得不少）。这可能也是德莱叶的心声，即使如Johannas所呼号的“时代已经腐烂”，人们“用冷淡的信仰亵渎了上帝”。《词语》最动人的奇迹并不是称颂Igner的复活，那太像以传教为目标的神棍叙事了，影片开头就已表达得清楚明白：蓝天下的风吹动整洁的白色手帕，大家在遍地绿草中呼喊Johannas的名字，他们在找他吗？他们在追随他。而末尾镜头平移跟随房间内的每一个人，那分明是Igner的目光，复活并不存在，她本就活着。
感谢德莱叶，他发现了奇迹，毫不吝啬地与观众分享。也许这是他能一次次精准击中我小小心脏的原因。
《愤怒之日》很清晰能分出两派来。牧师、牧师母亲、村民为代表的中世纪古板冷漠无情残忍迷信的社会主流和统治方。牧师之所以会死，哪儿是因为妻儿的背叛，分明还有因为老女巫之死而起的心虚，这些虚伪残忍之徒才应该绑上树桩。
而女主角和老女巫则代表另一方，老女巫善良质朴，“我不在乎天堂还是地狱，我乞求的是生命，我害怕死亡”，而安妮则是另一个勇敢的安娜卡列尼娜，她们之所以成为牧师他们的对立面，因为她们身上还有人性的一面。
其实是部非常现代思想的电影，那时候的很多电影思想都很先进不是嘛？
#BFI# #BigScreenClassics#
灾难疾病下遗失信仰的人民（不害怕上天堂或下地狱却怕死的老妇人也恰恰印证了这一点）与裹藏在色欲之下的猎巫运动（男主未经同意的迎娶和儿子毫不犹豫的出卖）。
定场的横移推轨镜头带有一丝丝鬼祟感，大量的固定镜头帮助构建人物，还有很多摇镜头的的使用帮助刻画人物关系和加强戏剧张力。有一场印象较深的戏是规避了血腥的拷打，利用镜头带出在场人的反应。最后转到老妇身上。还有最后一场戏的镜头运用，构图和演员走位精彩至极！
影片光线运用得太好了。侧打搭配特写镜头加强对人物内心的刻画，各种阴影下的人物走位，直接从光影上展现人物的内心。还有利用光线让指挥家双手的阴影在乐谱上舞动，像是一首死亡的序曲。火刑时，背光的唱诗队伍，唱起这首死亡序曲，随着老妇的尖叫缓缓结束（双爆的烟雾效果还是不错）。
很喜欢的三场交叉剪辑的戏。第一，小提琴配乐下的男主与儿子和妻子的交叉剪辑，男主羞愧于自己的内心与妻子和儿子在互诉爱意，这种交交叉剪辑极大程度的展现了个体道德观的对撞，不间断的小提琴配乐把这种冲突间的张力处理的非常好，最后利用双重曝光把人物隐去在草丛中也是点睛之笔。第二，狂风之下的男主赶路感到死亡临近与妻子和儿子谈论“死亡”，这种交叉剪辑很大程度加强了戏剧冲突，妻子关上门，旁边是绣了一半的“母亲”，婀娜多姿，（台词太棒了）。第三，舒缓的配乐下棺材中的男主与背光如同剪影的妻子和儿子，而时而浓郁时而消散的“雾气”也直接反映出了儿子的内心。