Red Desert (1964)

Bare long shots and mist-filled frames give insight into the protagonist's alienation from the workings of her modern industrial environment. Michelangelo Antonioni is a genius filmmaker; he understands the art form greatly, and it shows in his work.

I have hitherto watched 7 and ⅓ of Antonioni’s films, the ⅓ is referred to EROS (2004, 6/10), so I think I may entitle to attest that it does take time to appreciate his oeuvre and subdue the often wayward elusiveness in his storytelling. RED DESERT is prominent because it is Antonioni’s first colour feature, and remarkably the first one has already been able to stun the world with its unique palette aesthetics, with “Red” in the title, one might assume the film would be a torrid emotional roller-coaster with desire and energy, but what the film actually presents is the consuming mental malady in the budding industrialism, set in Ravenna, our protagonist is Giuliana (Antonioni’s regular muse Vitti), a married woman with a proclivity of mental unstableness due to an accident which never be disclosed to viewers. Her husband Ugo (Chionetti) is the manager of a petrol-chemical plant, so she often wanders in the drab surroundings with her son (Bartoleschi). keep reading my review on my blog, google: cinema omnivore, thanks

In this, his first step away from moody black and white cinema, experimental filmmaker Michelangelo Antonioni sets out to "paint with color," and he succeeds with spectacular effect. Each shot resonates with artistry, from the lingering, hazy landscapes to the more complex, structured confines of a factory warehouse. Magnificently well-composed, it truly is like a moving painting. Slow-moving, I should say, because the famed director isn't shy about letting the camera linger and roam. Often, we'll wander away from subjects at the end of their scene to follow a line of paint up the wall or trace a curve of pipes through the cement ceiling. This seems essential, as the light storytelling and rambling, philosophical dialogue constantly relies on such subtleties to deliver a sense of deeper meaning. The scant plot, focused around a timid, depressed housewife and her struggle to come to terms with the sad state of her life, can be a tall ask at times because it's so excruciatingly glacier-paced and spiritually draining. The bleak, industrial setting - where billowing towers of man-made chemicals and haunting, noisy machinery are the rule of the day - contains loud metaphors for the characters' internal conflict, but you'll have to look and dig to find them. Not an easy film to watch, it can be fascinating but also extremely demanding. I'd call it a mixed success. In terms of proving the medium as a legitimate art form, it's a roaring triumph. As an engaging narrative, it falls very short.