Man Is Not a Bird

In Dusan Makavejev's somewhat brilliant debut feature, he does not go full on crazy like he does in some of his later works; however, sprinkles of such insanity can be found all throughout this charming, tragic, funny, and wild romance. Combining various elements that range from the comic to the dramatic and the gritty to the surreal, "Man Is Not a Bird" functions primarily as a tribute to the common, everyday working man, as well as an unconventional love story focusing on an unlikely couple's stunningly sensual transgenerational relationship. These two portraits of society merge into a single small scale epic tragicomedy, one that sparkles with emotion and delight. Although a bit slow at first, by the second half of this movie I was mostly hooked. The Beethoven concert scene is moving, both in its camera-work and emotional intensity, and within the last ten or so minutes Makavejev really seems to go bonkers. Playing with and crossing the boundaries of everyday occurrences and fantastical, almost Felliniesque moments of mild fantasy, Makavejev begins to really blur the line between tragedy and comedy; the film's final moments work as both masterworks painted with both tears and laughter.

The guy behind this is clearly a talented man, this is the first of his stuff I see but it's an acquaintance I'm happy to make. It's a Yugoslav Breathless of sorts, or better yet the Czech film Loves of a Blonde which came out the same year, except instead of scenic Paris this unfolds in dour Belgrade, it has actual blood running in its veins instead of just poise, and instead of a boyhood fantasy about movies and movie icons, it locks the story in all sorts of other self-referential illusion.

The hypnotist who explains to an audience about the power of superstition and illusory belief, a great viewing template that sets up everything else as objectively unreal yet present in the willing viewer. The pompous ceremony where a superintendent is awarded by the communist powers that be before an audience of bored factory workers, some of whom may have even turned up to watch the film. The closing scene with the circus of very real absurdities.

So this is the journey here, from cinematic hypnotizing to slightly less (or more) real situations through what palpable desires these may unlock.

It's all centered in a relationship between a blonde hairdresser and a middle-aged superintendent of an energy project. The desires being to trust a lover, to complete a work even as you wonder why, to have dreams survive. I like that it is primarily visual and freeform, while being vital instead of just an artifact of technique; the less you think you have to say, the less of your own self obscures the possibilities of what is before you.

It isn't great, but it is among the most accomplished debuts of New Wave. Now I set my eyes on later works by this guy.

One of Makavejev's 1st films, the title, Man is Not a Bird refers to a hypnotist who makes people act like birds. It seems to be a veiled reference to the authorities; one line actually mentions the "authorities", but that's as specific as it was allowed to be at the time.

Shot is black and white in 1965 Covek Nije Tice depicts a man who cheats on his wife, but is still considered a heroic worker for propaganda purposes. Another man, an engineer who comes to town finds himself attracted to the daughter of his landlord.

It's a great film because of the atmosphere it creates of the Yugoslav world, especially significant since the destruction of that world.

Covek nije tica AKA Man Is Not A Bird is one of the three first full-length films by director Dusan Makavejev. Makavejev is the most well known and also the most bizarre Yugoslavian director. In his films erotic and political catalog face each other, he combines old propaganda material with early pornographic images (The Switchboard Operator is actually a better example of this). He was one of the most important filmmakers in Novi-film, which means the Eastern bloc new wave during the Cold War.

The class division to miners and educated experts shocked Makavejev, who wanted to show the true workers. Man Is Not A Bird is about a dull ordinary miner-town, where a hypnotist Roko delivers enjoyment and relief to the workers. He can make them believe that they are free, socialist heroes or even birds. The film has two different stories from the same town. A town which has no way out, which is in domination of its government.

As we know in the 1960's New Wave ran through Europe. We probably remember best the French new wave (Truffaut, Godard). But the new artistic movement did also arrive to the other side of Europe, to the Eastern bloc. Novi-film doesn't narratively differ much from French new wave, but its collage-style is something you don't see in France. They are as cheer as other new wave films, but also the satire of them is as strong. In Czechoslovakia for instance the government banned many films by Milos Forman and Jiri Menzel. I don't know much about the destiny of these Yugoslavian films, but they must've shocked people.

Why a man can't be a bird? He can, only with the help of a hypnotist, but a deeper meaning hides in the title. I thought that it meant; A man is not a bird because it cannot fly free. We can't fly free as birds, because we are held down by society, relationships, work and the pressure of our community. But should we be free like birds? This is a big theme in this fine film by Makavejev and it discusses about it. A Man Is Not A Bird also deals up with class division and other social issues of Yugoslavia. I found it very interesting and well made. If you enjoyed this be sure to check out Dusan Makavejev's other early film: Love Affair: Or The Case of The Missing Switchboard Operator.

As a matter of pure pleasure, a measurement held dear by this auteur, this might compete with the great "WR: Mysteries of the Organism" as my favorite of Machevejev's movies. It's probably not the writer- director's second greatest work, but, with it's movingly alive, yet unflattering depiction of a communist- Yugoslavia mining town, it particularly moved me. The film's critique of Yugoslavian communism: profoundly, but predictably disappointing, yet just barely worthy of affirmation, seemed to me a brilliant description of life itself.

Machevejev may well be the most affirmationally erotic artist in the cinematic canon. Human touch always affirms life, for the better or worse of the subsequently affirmed. Here, all involved turn out okay: they get to continue to enjoy the spectacle that is the socialist circus of life. (For me, Machevejev's affirmation of the existential circus seems much more sincere than that of, say, Fellini.)