RIP Béla Tarr.
His films, particularly starting with “Almanac of Fall”, perform like magic. For most filmmakers, I understand how their movies work. Storytelling beats, editing rhythms, characterizations.
Not with Tarr.
I still cannot place why his films are so engrossing, so instantly captivating. The way his work transports the audience into rich worlds with a unique tone of dread and existential irony that is all his own.
Sometimes, those worlds are dirty and muddy and real. Other times, those worlds are dirty and muddy and allegorical.
But I still cannot explain why a ten-minute shot of cows or a 6-minute death march of a horse is such effective filmmaking.
Of course, Tarr also had his top-notch collaborators. Hranitzky, Vig, Krasznahorkai. That doesn’t take away from the pure vision that infused his work.
His films not only captured the mystery of the human condition, they captured the mystery of filmmaking itself.
Béla Tarr (1955 – 2026) 🤍