#brunoforzani

The more I crawl down my Netflix DVD queue, the less sense it makes.  It sometimes takes me so long to cull through this queue that I’ve often forgot where the recommendations came from by the time I get to enjoy the films recommended.  The one consistent thing, thankfully, has been the stellar quality of the films in this queue, and last night I was introduced to another winner in the form of The Strange Color of Your Body’s Tears. 

While on a business trip, Dan Kristensen (Klaus Tange) is unable to reach his wife Edwidge (Ursula Bedena).  Upon returning from his trip, he finds his apartment locked by the chain from the inside, and after breaking in, finds the apartment empty.  After a brief alcohol-induced fit, Dan begins troubling his neighbors for information, including Dora (Birgit Yew), the mysterious woman on the 7th floor and the intriguing Barbara (Anna D'Annunzio).  An inspector (Jean-Michel Vovk) takes Dan’s case, but after the discovery of Edwidge’s severed head, Dan is presented with more questions and mysteries than answers.

As much as I am into Italian film, I was unfamiliar with the term “giallo film” until I began researching The Strange Color of Your Body’s Tears, but now that I am familiar with it, it makes sense why it brings to mind films like Repulsion, Suspiria, L'Avventura, Blow Up and many more films of the “pulp mystery” genre.  The film very much utilizes a throwback look and feel to dislodge itself from a fixed time or era, similar to Beyond the Black Rainbow.  The mystery, at its root a missing person case, is a simple enough launching point for a story, but The Strange Color of Your Body’s Tears quickly propels itself light years from its point of entry in as many directions as it possibly can, much to the amplification and enrichment of the film’s mysterious nature.

Much of the mystery is built through giving the viewer the most disjointed perspective possible.  To try and pin down the style of this film is similar to trying to coarse a drove of hares.  Husband and wife team Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani mix ideas, looks, style and symbolism like a DJ, or a movie fan with a short attention span and total recall for cinematic stimulus.  Films like these feel like linchpins or junction points for multitudes of films, as the way they pay homage to a range of films in turn creates new awareness for the unaware and a sense of nostalgia for those that recognize the homage.

This film oozes more style than many directors dream of including in an entire film career.  Deep blacks play as foundation for stark colors from across the entire spectrum, creating a highly artistic look to the live action.  The visual and sound editing is wonderfully schizophrenic, clearly taking delight in doling out scattered pieces of sensory information to the viewers with little to no context in regards to bigger picture relevance.  The narrative is extremely patient in its abstract nature, taking care not to indulge in the steady diet of stylistic changes, heightened realities and contemplative moments presented.  The direction of Hélène Cattet and Bruno Forzani is tight and deliberate, with no wasted moments or movements in our march towards the resolution of the narrative.

Klaus Tange is given blind trust to essentially take the ball and run with it, carrying the viewer through the lion’s share of the experience with the right balance between attempting poise and going to pieces, which keeps viewers on the edge of their seats and unsure of who or what to trust.  Birgit Yew and Anna D’Annunzio both channel a deep sense of dignity, floating through their scenes as if carried by a greater force at most appearances.  Jean-Michel Vovk provides a solid baseline of comparison for the slowly unraveling Tange.  Ursula Bedena sets a stark and mysterious presence, with additional textural presence provided by Sam Louwyck, Joe Koener, Hans De Munter, Manon Beuchot, Romain Roll and Lolita Oosterlynck.