Still Life
Chilean director Alejandro Fernández Almendras returns to
ADFF with another slice of exquisite naturalism
Jim Poe
18.10.2011 -
"Si te duermes, se acaba, y no quieres que se acabe."
"If you go to sleep, it's over, and you don't want it to be over."
Thus reads one of the oblique chapter titles of Seated by the Fire, the new film from Chilean director
Alejandro Fernández Almendras. It might be a subtle reference to
the terminal illness of one of the film's main characters, but it
could also be urging the viewer to give this very quiet, abstract
film its due. Some may wonder why they'd want to sit for 95 minutes
and watch a film set in rural Chile in which it seems very little
happens, but Almendras' command of his stylish naturalism -
especially his ravishing visual representation of the countryside
and his affectionate portraits of ordinary people - make Seated
by the Fire compelling and rewarding. It's a case of still
waters run deep.
The film, also known as By the Fire, premiered at last
month's San Sebastian Film Festival and is showcased at ADFF this
week. It's Almendras's second feature; his debut, Huacho,
screened in competition at the Festival in 2009. I was captivated
by the verve and visual flair with which Almendras presented the
story of one relatively uneventful day in the life of a humble
Chilean family. Sequences like the one in which an old woman makes
fresh white cheese, then takes an exhausting trek on foot to sell
it by the side of the road, resonated far beyond their apparent
tedium - there was such a hypnotic quality in the tiniest details
of her work, the impressionistic dappled sunshine, the soundtrack
composed of birds singing and cattle lowing and cars rushing
past.
Seated by the Fire mines a similar vein. From the first
shot of sheep on a decrepit basketball court in an overgrown field
on a bright autumn morning, we're enchanted by the sunlight, the
crisp colors of the trees, grass and sky, the peaceful but faintly
melancholy air of nature taking over. There's a long, dialogue-free
sequence in which we follow Daniel (Daniel Muñoz) while he makes
his rounds as a handyman on an empty rural estate, takes a smoke
break by an algae-choked pond, retrieves a kitten from an
abandonded clubhouse, then goes back to salvage a porcelain sink.
This placid, meandering tone will continue for the rest of the
film.
There are several marvellous shots of Daniel in the darkened
clubhouse, framed by the doorway and the sunny exterior. Almendras
and veteran cinematographer Inti Briones (who also shot
Huacho) have exposed the images so that we can see Daniel
working inside and still have a perfectly clear view of the trees
and horses outside, as if the doorway is a lightbox. Moments like
this are the essence of the film. One of Almendras' signature
visual hooks is to turn the camera into the sun, rays of light
fracturing into prismatic rainbows in the lens. Meanwhile, his
vision may be rural but it's not quaint; machinery and artificial
structures often form a striking part of the otherwise organic
visual tableau, as in the shot of men chasing a sheep viewed
through the geometric framework of a brightly-painted orange and
blue radio tower.
As with Huacho, these exquisite exteriors
are balanced by observant scenes of low-key human interaction. The
camera is fixed in a room as people simply talk about their day or
tell stories about their lives; it's a pleasure just to listen to
the melody and cadence of their speech. Almendras shows great
respect for his compañeros - their humor, their quiet
forbearance. They are thoughtful, dignified people who happen to
work for a living. Daniel is educated, but he seems to have fallen
on hard times; he's been forced to sell his taxi and take another
job as a farm laborer.
Meanwhile the film's surface tranquility belies a strong
undercurrent of sadness. It turns out Daniel's wife Alejandra
(Alejandra Yañez, who also starred in Huacho) is ill.
Through snatches of conversation, and things left unsaid, we gather
she is dying. In addition to his multiple jobs, Daniel is her
caretaker. It's a struggle, but a quiet one, made up of day-to-day
routine. There's very little conflict as in a conventional drama;
just a series of impressions. The stillness and quiet add up as the
film goes on to create a sense of foreboding; the birdsong and
rustling leaves remind us of our mortality.
Beneath its stillness, Seated by the Fire is all about
life in transition. The story arc takes place over the course of a
year, and is divided into chapters based on the seasons. We
experience each season vividly, from Daniel's perspective out in
the fields, harvesting wheat in the summer and cutting undergrowth
in the autumn. He grows a beard. Their hardship weighs on him. He
starts becoming detached from his sick wife. The kitten rescued at
the beginning becomes a marker of the passage of time, becoming a
full-grown cat as Alejandra's health worsens, often lurking at the
edge of the frame as the humans interact quietly. Seasons and
chapters pass, and we get a sense of a tragedy told in a series of
anecdotes - and beyond that, a powerful sense, both somber and
transcendent - that life goes on.
Seated by the Fire screens at Vox
Cinemas, Marina Mall, on Wednesday, October 19 at 6:45pm and
Saturday, October 22 at 1:30pm. Director Alejandro Fernández
Almendras will be present at both screenings to introduce the film
and to answer audience questions afterwards.