Kárhozat aka Damnation (1988) Hungarian Art Film Noir

The long take, slow pans, slow tracking shots, and lots rain Noir

Directed by Béla Tarr. Written by László Krasznahorkai and Béla Tarr. Cinematography by Gábor Medvigy and Music by Mihály Vig

Starring Miklós Székely B. as Karrer, Vali Kerekes as The Singer, Gyula Pauer as Willarsky / bartender, György Cserhalmi as Sebestyén / singer's husband, and Hédi Temessy as Cloakroom woman.

The Story

Shitholeville, Hungaria, Soggy mudscapes. Wild dogs roam. Endless rainfalls.

Karrer. Loser. Boozer. Tragically un-hip. Infatuated, and horny. The source of his wood is the sultry married torch singer who burns down the house regularly at the Titanik Bar. It's a relationship that is going nowhere, Karrer is not the only alky schmuck under her spell. 

Miklós Székely B. as Karrer

Vali Kerekes as The Singer

The philosophical hat check girl calls her a witch. She tells him that she is a leech, a bottomless swamp that will swallow him up and suck him dry. 

Besides singing dirges of lost love the multi talented "chanteuse" is putting out on the side when ever her husband splits the scene.  

Karrer daily sits depressed in his flop and marinates between binges and kamikaze crash and burn hits on the songstress. He passes time counting the aerial tram cars that drone on by monotonously, from a nearby coal mine. 

Tarr spends what seems like a good ten minutes on this starting with a long slow zoom out from the tramway. Then we are treated to Karrer shaving for another what sees like five minutes. This guy is depressed. Tarr could have saved a lot of film if he had just had  Karrer cut his throat here. Its a bit of a monotonous type style but it does convey a sense of hopelessness to it all, which may be the point. The landscapes are bleak.

The best segment is the torch song sequence at the Titanik Bar. 

Rain. A real soaker. Titanik Bar neon beckoning, The "r" burned out. Pack of dogs crossing the damp pavement. Inside another pack, of men, looking at the bitch in heat up on the stage. Outside Karrer watches. A VW drives up. The singers husband gets out and goes inside. Karrer crosses the street and goes into the Titanik. As he gets closer we hear the electric piano and sax. Inside men sit stupefied. She sings a haunting dirge about lost love "Maybe Never More."

"Its finished. Its all over. Over. And there wont be another. It wont be good. Ever again. Never more. Maybe never more. 

Its like a nightmare. All of it. Maybe. Where is somebody else? Where will he come from? If he comes. Or wont he come. Ever again. 

Take it or leave it this is what you're stuck with. What can you do? You lose your words yet you cannot go. Its been over for a long time. Its good that utopia exists. Its good to know I wont be here long.  Take it or leave it. Say, honey, why? Over now? And there wont be another. Ever again. Maybe never more.

He's got my soul. Things are going his way. Without him this life is barren. With him life is full and happy. Silly. Never again. Maybe never more

Its over.  All over. There's no end. No end now. It cant fade. And it wont fade. Ever again. Maybe never. Maybe never more. "

Titanik Bar Torch Song

So continuing our story. Karrer gets propositioned by a bar owner (at one of the five dives he regularly  habituates) to go and pickup a package for him for 20% of the value. The lightbulb goes on in Karrer's noggin. He'll tell the singer and her hubby about it. The singer will get greedy for the dough and she'll tell the hubby to drive outta town to get it. He'll be gone for a couple of days.

When hubby leaves Karrer figures he'll be back in the saddle with the singer again. But of course it all goes Noirsville.

Noirsville

Hédi Temessy as Cloakroom woman

For me its similar in tone to Michelangelo Antonioni's Il Grido (1957). Tarr creates a drab, depressing world of broken dreams with his relentless visual style and sound design. It wont be for everyone. 7/10 

Life on a dark planet (IMDb)

Damnation was one of those rare instances when I felt both frustrated and fascinated by the film I was watching. Bela Tarr is SO adept at creating mood that the light sketches of plot began to feel superfluous, and I found myself wanting to brush them away and just float in this surreal sludge without trying to follow a 'story'. Tarr's use of sound design and music to create tension and a dream-like state come closer to David Lynch's than anything else I've seen. The original (I'm assuming) songs in the film also share that distinctive quality of mimicking a certain genre of familiar music, while having something that's a bit off about them - much like Badalamenti's scores. Interesting to note that Blue Velvet was released two years prior. The slowly gliding camera, which seems to have almost it's own agenda aside from the film ads to the purveying sensation of unease, and the exquisite lighting and black and white tones are breathtakingly stark. There are moments in the film when there is so much going on in the scene, and the shot is so lengthy, that the situation itself becomes real and transcends the fiction of the film. This is a very rare phenomenon in film, and was absolutely spellbinding - especially the dance scene. The middle of the film gets heavy with bleak philosophical exchanges, which would be better illustrated than told - especially with Tarr's incredible gift for mis en scene and sound design. Iconographic sequences like the slow pan past the miserable crowds waiting for the rain to stop, or the reoccurring pack of wild dogs speak volumes more of Tarr's theme than the most eloquent words. The characters are like automatons shuffling about in a purgatory from which there is no escape. It is as though the entire world was a flea-bag apartment building, a tattered old bar, and a vast field of mud and debris which one must traverse between the two.