I saw ZP when it was first released and found it a major disappointment. Its script seemed forced and arch and too fakey '60s. It's politics too upfront and ridiculous. And let's face it, I was still under a love-spell known as BLOWUP : and I still haven't completely shaken it. Now the "love" is twisted up with all sorts of nostalgia it evokes and, oh well . . . Good Luck to me!
But time marches on and time has been kind to ZP and time has been a teacher to me. I revisit this film about every ten years and it just gets better and better with age. And ZP is it's own "experience"and is only really linked to BLOWUP through its creator, the late,great Mr. Antonioni.
Twelve years ago, I had the great good fortune to see an absolutely pristine print, projected at its correct size (immense), restored by an Italian government cultural agency who knows a good work of art when they see it and knows the importance of keeping such a thing of beauty in good shape. To this day I remember the gasp from the audience when the first shot of Death Valley appeared. It was like a thousand volt visual shock Antonioni had intentionally delivered to wake us up to a new level of awareness. And indeed what follows from that point is an entirely different sort of "place".
What is astonishing to me is how this film is coming into its own.
I remember the second time around seeing it --- the early 80s --- I had begun to feel affection towards the film as a whole and towards Daria and Mark in particular. Whereas, before these two seemed like a smart-alecky shadow version of Zefferelli's Olivia and Leonard (read: Romeo and Juliet)they now were engaging me --- particularly The Girl in her insistent slo-motion-ality. She-took-her-time . . . To Live. Everything, EVERYTHING dies around her.
Upon exciting the theater the daylight of Reality quickly began to erase my new found "enjoyment". The encroaching shoulder-padded, big haired 80s whispered "But that's a hippie fantasy --- let it go"
The force of Antonioni's vision had, I had realised, already worked itself inside of me the FIRST time around so I answered "80s" with an "Uh-Huh" and guarded my "love" secretly, possessively and jealously.
But, this, then is what good art does it lives inside of you, and, if you wish it has its way and "loves" you back: secretly, jealously, and possessively. And you get "changed".
Was thrilled to see that Turner Classic Movies had decided to show ZP in its March lineup. Undoubtedly, ZP must be seen on a gigantic screen so that it can truly take you into its constructed environment. But, hey, sometimes even a glimpse of the Beloved in a newspaper photo is no better than no glimpse at all.
Today reality hit, ZP has been withdrawn mysteriously and replaced with the whiney antics of ALICE'S RESTAURANT.
So, it is still too "difficult", too "disturbing", too "what"?
Maybe it's that, as with all good art, it Lives while everything dies around it.
Peace.
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