Monday, 8 November 2010

The Long Memory and Masjavlar

Today I experienced a film which I recall seeing before but only giving some attention, The Long Memory staring John Mills as a man wrongly convicted for murder released from prison on licence after 12 years wanting to get revenge on the witnesses who perjured themselves, By good fortune he encounters a troubled young refugee with her own dark memories and who sees in him the man before disaster struck and whose only interest is to provide sufficient love which will prevent the urge for revenge destroying the rest of his and their potential life together. Confronting one of the witnesses he realises that he does not need to take further action in that while they continued to be imprisoned by what they had done, he is being the opportunity for the kind of relationship many aspire. Then he comes face to face with the with the man he was convicted of killing and has to run for his life. A good Fleet Street freelance journalist and a good detective cop are equally convinced the man is innocent and through them and the girlfriend and another friend they are able to save the man and begin the process of trying to repair the damage done to his reputation and freedom. A combinational but excellent script with plot twists and fine all round acting performances.

The wronged character comments that it no longer matters as he, they have all that anyone needs while the girl friend(Eva Berg) comments "all we want is the right to exist without being hurt and without hurting anyone else." Fine words but so difficult to maintain in this complex changing world. It is also true that the struggle for a sense of meaningful justice can enable some to continue with life if someone dear to them has had their life cut short, is maimed or harmed in a way irrevocable to them, but it can also cripple lives and prevent further enjoyment and positive new experiences. As with all such statements and generalizations the opposite is often true and may or may not prove relevant or of value in particular circumstances. For the long memory has always been something of a blessing and a curse

I completed all the work in relation to development project sets 2160- 2173 but not the photographing of each single page and then double. This brought the number of completed sets to 7725 and cards to 185400. So far I have also added nine sets of information about new MySpace as I set out to increase the number of friends to match the number of Blogs concentrating on artists film makers and actors, jazz and classical, together with writers and philosophers. There have been four cultural sets so the running total is now 7739 sets 185736 cards. The Artman card volume reached 4444. I photographed one Development volume while I watched an awful drama by numbers which does not merit further mentioning, but it prepared me for what I knew was going to be a difficult film experience afterwards and which I will leave the telling for now.

The main event of the evening was the first home game for the temporary manager for Newcastle, Joe Kinnear, against the team of the moment in terms of publicity Manchester City. So much emotion has been invested over the past two decades but the love and the loyalty has departed, but the bonds remain strong especially as the club has been under such fire from within and without

It was a good game to watch and oddly similar to the efforts of Roy Keane when Sunderland turned from a team struggling to survive, even in the Championship, into a promotion winning side. There was a wide gulf in skill, team play, and self belief between the two team but only when the match commenced and over the last ten minutes did Man City Perform as I saw them against Sunderland and then against Portsmouth. After ten minutes the referee gave a penalty to Man City which is one of those likely to be debated until the end of time, time which I regard as endless, and long after all trace of human kind disappears from the universe. The decision of the referee to send off the player was perverse and irresponsible. However the decision may have saved Newcastle and possible given Joe the time win over the players and the fans, possibly even the media, with his honest down to earth team building. What he is doing is something the crowd at Newcastle love, putting fire into the bellies of the lads, turning them into men. The football is not pretty with the lads need to make plenty of tackles which are not always well timed. Man City who are learning to play Premiership and European level winning good football did not know how to handle a team which looked more Bolton than Chelsea or Man U. However it is what the situation demands and a couple of wins should see themselves out of trouble. Given that they played most of the game with only ten men, the failure to keep their 2.1 winning lead until the end of the game will have disappointed but there is much to cheer supporters as they prepare for Saturday's Derby at Sunderland. Either side wining take them our of or further out of trouble. A draw leaves them uncertain, but is what I hope for, but not what I expect.

Joe Kinnear is 61 and has survived a heart attack which kept him out of the game for two years and since being fired from Nottingham Forest in 2004 is has been on the benches. Joe played as Defender for Tottenham Hotspur for ten years making 192 appearances and then had short spell at Brighton where he played 16 times. He made 26 appearances for the Republic of Ireland. He commenced management in the Middle East and then India and Nepal, before acting as interim manager at Doncaster. His highest league position at Wimbledon was six and he reached two semi finals. It is said that he turned the chance to manage the Republic's team after the departure of Jack Charlton. It will be interesting see what happens over the next games.

While I worked, I listened to the music of Aaron Locke who is presently playing a round Austin Texas. He is a fine musician, playing vibes, drums and steel pan and includes on his play list a song called She Likes to smile which has a haunting and memorable quality of the order of Peter Sarstedt's Where do you go to my lovely. I am trying to remember how I came to discover the New Orleans Rhythms Kings who play the kind of wicked jazz I used to listen to over a weekend at the Cy Laurie Club in Great Windmill Street, a stone's throw from Piccadilly Circus and opposite the Windmill Theatre.

It was late when I was ready to watch Masjavlar a Swedish made film. One of the few home produced offerings each year I have remained interested in Sweden and the Swedish cinema since seeing he Bergman Film Summer with Monika during my first two years on leaving school 1955-1957 and then visited Sweden for two weeks in 1963, travelling with small party from Ruskin College by train through Germany and Denmark from Paris and after staying briefly in Stockholm went to Forsa and after taking the train to Hudiksvall on the coast, staying a Folk High School (Folkhogskola), and then returning for a few days in Stockholm, during which time I and two companions spent a day at Uppsala University, as guest of a student studying psychiatry who we had met at a function in Stockholm but where and what circumstances I no longer remember. We were entertained by the student and her five companion who shared a self contained area in a hall of residence and then taken lunch with her fiancée. One of my two companions became suddenly ill with an infection and a doctor was called and we had to leave him to be cared for by the six young women while he recovered sufficiently to travel. The organisers of the trip did not believe us at first. He was heavily involved in Trade Union history, industrial relations and Labour politics and subsequently gained a peerage continuing distinguished public services throughout his life, Bill, Lord McCarthy.

The film reminded me of the kind of communities which makes up the greater part of Sweden. It is set in Winter time with much snow and where the young lad these days use the snow scooter. We visited in late summer and the young men drove around the nearest town in the evening picking up girls to take them off to the hills and secret stills which brewed inexpensive liquor. We were stunned at the price of beer and that there was nowhere for young people to meet and for people go out to drink at establishments such as the British pub. It was a very worthy trip with visits to factories, businesses and to national government and local government offices of information. I had a private visit where I was explained the Swedish Social Welfare and Social Work system. The only excitement apart from the visit to Uppsala was when two Australian girls turned up at the Folk High School having met the Principal on his trip down under and who said if you ever are passing my way look me up never in a million anticipate they would do so.

Since then my knowledge has depended on Ingmar Bergman, the majority of films I have seen and have some video for what have been significant films for me. The story of Masjavlar is worthy of Bergman. The thirty something daughter returns to her home village after an absence of 15 years, having got to university, and to Silicon valley in the USA before settling in Stockholm as an computer architect having progressed from being a programmer, but living in a small two room flat on her own and pregnant by the young son of her boss, and about to have a termination. She returns for the seventieth birthday party of her father held in the village hall and the film is about the catalyst her visit becomes in relation to her two sisters and their families, her uncle and former widowed school mistress and her son. Everyone has a story involving suicide, a once in a lifetime holiday fling and an overriding sense of failure, of being imprisoned in a life and relationships not of their hopes and wishing and which everyone feels at some point during their adulthood. The ending is dramatic and real. However the one flaw is that the parents and three daughters did not appear to have ever been a real life family, they did just not convince but otherwise all the bases of family and small community interactions are covered.

Fortunately it was possible to speak to Swedish people on the visit because as in other Scandinavian countries English is not only taught in schools but everyone learns. I remember going for some toiletry, shaving cream or such like to a chemist in small village in Holland prepared to point and asks for the price to be written down taking of pen and paper. The young women immediately said she had learnt English in school but had little chance to practice so was delighted to talk for a while. Whereas Spanish, Italian, and Greek are languages which match the climate and lifestyle of the people, the harshness and apparent coldness of the Northern Scandinavian tongue matched the climate and physical nature of the country. Superficial I know but I suggest there is also truth.

On the train journey first to Stockholm and then to Hudiksvall I was struck by the continuous open space of trees and water and the official tourist information for the seaside town highlights its location amongst deep forests, lakes and blue mountains and I quickly understood why many Swedes appear soulful and thoughtful beings as they are brought up as part of the natural environment and where everyone tries to escape from the capital and the towns into the countryside at weekends and the summer vacation, or at least used to, and those who become cosmopolitan and worldly find it difficult to readily fit back into their childhood roots. You understand the temporary nature of human life in such an environment and if things go wrong and you see no immediate or long term solution there is the tendency to take ones life. It is otherwise a very tolerant contemporary understanding society which also may contribute to the constant introspection.

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