Bela Tarr is to be our leader now, W. says. He's a genius, says W. He says he only makes films about poor, ugly people – they're my people, he always says. The ugly and the poor are always with us, that's what he says, says W. He's like Tarkovsky, only slower, says W., and with less hope. He only makes films with friends, says W. And he hates cinematographers. He had 7 of them for Satantango – 7! They only cause him trouble, says W.
Bela Tarr wanted to be a philosopher, says W., but when he started making films, he stopped wanting to be a philosopher. No abstraction for him, says W. He's completely devoted to the concrete, says W., to what he sees in front of him. He's not like us, says W., who have no idea what's directly in front of them.
He doesn't float nebulously into the most general and most confused of ideas, into our clouds of unknowing, says W. He never talks philosophy, says W. He doesn't believe in abstraction. Film is about the concrete, he says, says W. It can't help but be about the concrete.
Bela Tarr doesn't believe in God, says W. Bela Tarr's seen too much to believe in God. He takes years over each film, says W.. And they're full of drunk people. Full of drunk, aggressive people like you, says W. And mud. His films are full of mud. That's where you belong, says W., in the mud.
He made his first film when he was 16, says W. of Bela Tarr. 16! Imagine it! He had wanted to be a philosopher, but filmmaking cured him of that.
When did you know, says W., when did you know you'd never amount to anything? When did you take refuge in vague and cloudy ideas that have nothing to do with the world?
Perhaps we should have become film directors, W. says, though we probably would have fucked that up, too. What sort of films would we have made? Terrible films! Clouds of unknowing that would have nothing to do with reality!
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