Lo sguardo di Michelangelo

This is possibly the final short film of Michelangelo Antonioni, starring as himself as well as he seeks out his the Italian Renaissance painter Michelangelo's statue of Moses at the Churce of St Pietro in Rome.

Basically it's a piece which has the camera lingering on extreme close ups of the statue, covering every possible nook, cranny and corner, coupled with a meditative looking Antonioni decked in Armani, caressing the statue with his hand. In all frankness I have no idea what this short was trying to achieve, although it boasts some stunning visuals against absolutely no dialogue and sans music accompaniment, save for the ambient noise of shutting doors, and a church chorus toward the end.

It might get a tad repetitive as well, given that it seemed certain shots got repeated ad nauseam. Perhaps it's to share the brilliance of one of Michelangelo's statues, or to share that the statue might be one of Antonioni's favourites.

This 20-minute short is Michelangelo Antonioni’s true final film and, for a master film-maker who has peerlessly studied (over almost a 55-year period) the inability of people to communicate between one another, it is appropriate that his last characters are himself – who has been debilitated by a stroke and deprived of speech and most bodily movement for practically 20 years – and the “inanimate” statues found in St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.

It is also fitting that a modern artist who has carried all his life the first name of one of the greatest artists the world has ever known, Michelangelo Buonarroti, should seek to pay tribute to his “ancestor” through his own medium of expression. And so it is that, ‘through the magic of cinema’, we see a frail Michelangelo Antonioni ‘make his way’ slowly through the empty Basilica and find himself a place where to observe in pensive solitude and from a close but respectful distance the figures sculpted by Michelangelo in the 16th Century, the most prominent of which being that of Moses.

The film mostly has the camera gazing, panning or tracking incessantly over every detail of the awesome statues and occasionally show us the interaction between the two ‘entities’, even down to taking the exact same camera position from each other’s viewpoint. Antonioni occasionally makes some jerky hand movements as if dumb-founded by what he is seeing but, then, his ‘disembodied’ hand is seen caressing the statues and feeling the tactile nature of the sculptor’s artistry. I cannot profess to be anywhere near the ideal person to describe Buonarroti’s work – sculpture, painting and classical music have always been too highbrow for me and best left for the cognoscenti to appreciate – and, for all I know, this may be the most boring and pointless piece of celluloid ever shot for the uninitiated. But for the admirers of the two Michelangelos (but especially Antonioni), this is essential viewing. There have been finer cinematic swan songs, no doubt, but possibly none have been as moving.

"Michelangelo's gaze" is a very strange and interesting little movie. it's 19 minutes long and has no story what so ever. it's just the great director Michelangelo trying to touch and connect with the great artist Michelangelo. in a mysteriously moving way, you get the feeling that this titan of modern cinema is saying goodbye to the world, goodbye to his life. as the only actor in the cast, Antonioni really gazes at himself and at the work he's done through the course of his life. and what was that work? well, as cinephiles would say, sculpting in light.

Cinema's matter is light. and photographers "sculpt in light". Antonioni sculpts the faces and other body parts of Michelangelo's big sculptures "MOSES" in a cathedral, and he is there all alone. The always "young" man in the sculpture is contrasted with Antonioni's old and rigid face, unable to move thanx to a stroke. and that's all. accompanied by wonderful cinematography that reminds us the great compositions of "L'aventurra" or "L'eclisse", this little, almost silent film, is really experimental cinema with the exception that it has a great director, a historical innovator of the art, standing behind it and in the front of the camera.

But after all, this movie will be regarded the most by Antonioni's fans and other film and art buffs. personally, I recommend it to everyone who can appreciate beauty at it's purest form.

This is fine. And if you find yourself in it, you'll find it pleasant — rather like visiting the second tier of beautiful cathedrals. You at once perceive the logic of the thing and are impressed if only because it has your exclusive attention.

But at the same time, you know there are far, far better experiences out there.

You can find this as an extra on "Eros," and you might be better off watching this first. That's because it is easy to forget that Antonioni — for the last 35 years at least — has been concerned with how the cinematic eye bends what it sees.

In this case, Antonioni walks again. And he carries sense with him as he moves, enlivening even something that inherently has life. Moses, by Michaelangelo, the original.

Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.