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Suppose that one day in the future, you decided to queue at a deli counter. Would this ever strike you as being the last place you might stand before a heart attack turns your lights out?
What do you think might happen next? Will the people around you make a respectful gesture, will the world come to a momentary halt, or might the cashier ask if somebody would pick up the items that you paid for? Will anybody actually take the sandwich that you intended to eat, or drink the beer you hoped to down because otherwise those things are going in the bin? Where does the declaration “free meal, woo!” factor in during the uncomfortable topic of your own mortality? Do these things ever cross your mind when you consider life’s greatest mystery?
No, of course not, because you hoped your death would have at least some class, or an impact. Even the most pessimistic person, if envisaging his or her own untimely end, would hope that such an incident would be startling enough that nobody would actually take up the offer and claim their ultimate purchase at the food counter. Yet, Swedish director Roy Andersson begs to differ with A Pigeon sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence, the Venice Golden Lion winning final instalment in his Living Trilogy and potentially the most disillusioning, or life affirming, film you will see in the foreseeable future.
Drawing together a cavalcade of loosely connected vignettes about innocence, loneliness and the struggle of nobodies, as perceived by an objective spectator, ‘A Pigeon…’ lays out the argument that the hopes and fears of an individual will barely register as even close to valuable in the mind of another person. With the camera rigidly fixed to one spot, filming only in lengthy single-takes, the story refuses to grant even single character enough power, or charm to have the audience follow them about once they attempt to wander beyond the lens’ peripheral vision.
According to Anderson, only a few people will leave this world with a satisfyingly resonant, head-turning bang. For the rest, or at least those depicted onscreen, it is muted shuffling and anti-climactic whimpers. Yet, despite how bleak that may sound, his existential dwellings are, in all honesty, hysterically earnest studies of humankind, which attack the idea of solipsism in both fictional storytelling and our own reality.
Located in a ghastly, pale, museum-like world, the jarring visual aesthetic can only be accurately described as being the art-house reincarnation of Cameron’s father’s house in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, which is to say, “It’s very beautiful and very cold, and you’re not allowed to touch anything.” The effect could throw off an unexpecting audience member before they even begin to focus upon the array of folk stumbling about helplessly within this environment. So be prepared for one major shock to the senses, before facing the onslaught of wonderful cynicism that ensues.
Once the eye has readjusted itself, the mind is next up for an emotional drubbing. There are slaves, monarchs, suicidal versions of Laurel and Hardy, kind-hearted mothers, passionate couples and bureaucrats, all of whom the director would demote to uninteresting figures in the background in any other film. However, here they are neither important, nor unimportant. They are all on a level playing field that gives them a few moments in the spotlight, for the sake of showing their insignificance, before life moves on, leaving them behind for good, either to suffer or fade into mundanity.
No amount of wealth, gravitas, or sadness will change this, and it makes every face present in each sketch stand out, granting them identities that are difficult to forget, but even more challenging to love. ‘A Pigeon…’ alienates, delights and upsets in equal parts, but heck, does it produce thought-provoking and spectacular results. You may not leave the theatre imbued with an unbridled sense of joy, or your ego intact, as disillusionment is probably going to be the sensation that you feel coursing through your every vein once the credits roll. However, isn’t that essentially the closest thing to total awareness for most people? An unapologetically realistic and gritty version of enlightenment, an anti-nirvana, who doesn’t want that?
