“Quixotic” is trancelike
Your chances of enjoying or at least appreciating “Quixotic” will be greatly improved if you prefer films that are slow as molasses, hypnotically contemplative in tone and so devoid of conventional action or dialogue that they test your attention span. If those qualities intrigue you, “Quixotic” may prove pleasantly surprising.
It’s unfortunate that Terry Gilliam was unable to complete his ill-fated production of “The Man Who Killed Don Quixote” (as chronicled in the documentary “Lost in La Mancha”), but Catalan writer-director Albert Serra’s take on the Cervantes classic offers a fascinating study in directorial contrast. Where Gilliam was approaching the romantic appeal of Don Quixote with grand-scale whimsy, Serra strips it down to its barest essentials. He crafts an oblique study of Quixote’s friendship with Sancho Panza as a metaphysical journey, utterly mundane on the surface, while the characters, in Serra’s words, “portray the intimacy and fascination of a reality that exists purely in the mind.”
Citing Robert Bresson, Yasujiro Ozu, Jean-Luc Godard and Ermanno Olmi as major influences, Serra has reduced Cervantes’ plot to its most marginal incidents, enacted by a mesmerizing pair of non-professional actors. The film’s official synopsis says it best: Quixote (Lluís Carbó) and the fat, dimly devoted Sancho (Lluís Serrat) “canter off, directionless, in search of adventures. On the way, their discussions tackle spiritual, chivalrous and practical matters … and their friendship deepens.”
That’s an accurate description of Serra’s film, which employs natural lighting of pristine landscapes (including occasional near-complete darkness), a total absence of man-made construction and mostly static shots that last so long you can detect the Earth’s rotation as dusk, dawn or moonrise progresses.
Bordering on experimental, this technique will prove soporific for some, a trancelike experience for others. Seductive in sight and sound, the film creates an inherently internalized world that transcends the “boring” activity on screen, to the point where a subtle burst of acoustic guitar on the soundtrack can have the impact of an epiphany.
If you’re on this movie’s wavelength, you may find yourself unexpectedly moved by its cumulative effect.
Jeff Shannon: j.sh@verizon.net