Herman Asselberghs is currently working on a long-term film project at the film department of the LUCA School of Arts, where he has been teaching for two decades. Through the realization of a film essay, he probes the relationship between attention and distraction in the film theatre and the classroom. Throughout the creation process, Sabzian reports on his accompanying reading and writing. On a regular basis, Asselberghs selects an existing text that interests him and that he himself provides with an accompanying text. In this second instalment, he probes possible overlaps between teaching and film-watching by means of Berichten uit een klas [Reports from a Classroom], Objectieve Melancholie [Objective Melancholy] and other key essays by the Belgian critic Dirk Lauwaert. He also reminisces about Lauwaert’s overlooked Filmparties.

“I already knew that you can’t just make a film overnight with people who aren’t actors. Especially when you want to make a feature film. And there I was, plunging into a spoken feature-length film. Some friends had told me, “Be careful!” I responded, “Damn it! Flaherty made Nanook, and he made Moana!” “Ah yes, okay, but that’s silent film! You, your peasants, when they open their mouths, you’ll see, it’ll be a catastrophe.” I hung on all the same. Of course, you can’t make them play Le Cid or Hamlet... You have to make them play something that’s closer to their hearts.”

The film was barely finished, and the “Farrebique affair” began – the selection committee of the first Cannes Film Festival eliminated the film from the competition […]. “That Farrebique will not be going to Cannes is an outright scandal,” Maurice Bessy declared [...]. “Although some reservations could be made about the arbitrary conception of the subject,” wrote Georges Sadoul, “Farrebique clearly had its place at the festival, whereas the particularly incontinent logorrhea of A Lover’s Return should have been refused even a back seat.” But the screenwriter of this last film, Henri Jeanson, was the very committee member who fought for the rejection of Farrebique, although he denies that: “Farrebique was not presented to us for approval. I am, admittedly, one of those who find this film boring. I don’t consider cow dung to be photogenic material. I agree that I may be wrong, but I protest against those who claim in bad faith that Farrebique was rejected.”

Wij zien geen toekomst in een stiefmoederlijk beleid dat “scherpe” keuzes maakt, er is integendeel dringend nood aan zorgzame en correcte ondersteuning van alle bestaande initiatieven. Wij zijn van mening dat een voldragen en divers filmlandschap zich enkel blijvend kan manifesteren wanneer dat gepaard gaat met de ontwikkeling van een scherpzinnige en diepgaande filmkritiek. Red de filmcultuur, investeer in filmkritiek!

As part of its 1971–1972 programme, the Van Abbemuseum in Eindhoven has planned an exhibition on the street as a form of visual environment. The museum thus becomes part of an international trend that manifests a renewed interest in the street as a living environment.

Stylistically, Cornelis’ approach [in Park Abbey Heverlee] is somewhat similar to the method used by Alain Resnais in L’année dernière à Marienbad (1961). Cornelis himself pointed out a connection to Alexandre Astruc’s so-called Caméra-Stylo. “Like Astruc, I seek ways to build up to something; I seek rhythms,” explains Cornelis.

Godard denkt er niet aan om van Bardot een personage te maken dat het stereotype beeld dat de massamedia van haar ophangen, doorbreekt. Hij voert Bardot als ‘Bardot’ op. Hij citeert het fenomeen Bardot, gebruikt het als een soort readymade, zonder enige ironie. En aangezien in de massamedia de naam Bardot geassocieerd is met ‘bloot’, voert hij haar ook meteen bloot op. Het is alsof Godard tegen het publiek zegt: “Je komt naar een film met Bardot kijken? Hier heb je haar meteen helemaal, totalement, naakt als de Venus van Urbino.”

Votre film est donc avant tout une réflexion sur Je destin d’une culture nationale ?

Bien entendu. La trame policière de l’histoire ne m’a servi que de prétexte. Par ailleurs, La momie est un film que j’ai senti, et donc construit, à plusieurs niveaux.

On 16 December 1969, The Mummy was shown for the first time to the audience of the Cairo Film Club, which included many intellectuals. In the dark, Shadi Abdel Salam waited for the reaction of his family and friends to this new work of art. All were moved by the film’s sober technique and by its theme, which was deeply touching for Egyptians: a sacred theme presented in a new form – the language of film – and accompanied by the sincerity that’s in harmony with this people.