Beyond the Clouds

This is a special film if you know the context. Antonioni, in his eighties, had been crippled by a stroke. Mute and half paralyzed, his friends -- who incidentally are the best the film world has -- arranged for him to 'direct' a last significant film. The idea is that he can conjure a story into being by just looking at it. So we have a film: about a director who conjures stories by simple observation. And the matter of the (four) stories is about how the visual imagination defines love.

The film emerges by giving us the tools to bring it into being through our own imagination. The result is pure movie-world: every person (except the director) is lovely in aspect or movement. Some of these women are ultralovely, and they exist in a dreamy misty world of sensual encounter. There is no nuance, no hint that anything exists but what we see; no desire is at work other than what we create.

I know of no other film that so successfully manipulates our own visual yearning to have us create the world we see. He understands something about not touching. No one understands Van Morrison visually like he does. Morrison's Celtic space music is predicated on precisely the same notion: the sensual touch that implies but doesn't physically touch.

Antonioni's redhead wife appears, appropriately as the shopkeeper and she also directs a lackluster 'making of' film that is on the DVD.

Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 4: Worth watching.

Even though the story is light, the movie flows so beautifully and its visual so tranquil and poetic that it could almost carry the whole movie.

The film consists of four interconnected stories, all about different aspect of attraction between man and/or woman and how it frequently is ethereal. Their true desire seems to be always something that they cannot hold onto, it will flow out like a handful of sand.

I thought the most intriguing story was the last one where the more unattainable the woman was, the more the man desires her. It parallels her deep love for god, who is infinitely out of reach, but never closer to her heart.

A very good movie. 7/10

The worst segment in this very uneven sketch film is the first, a silly tale of abandonment featuring pretty boy Kim Rossi Stuart and the Lancôme model Inés Sastre. It reeks of chic and product placement. The second episode, with a bored-looking Sophie Marceau is hardly better; we can't care if she stabbed her dad six, twelve or 528 times. Sophie does have a lovely body, however, and the boutique she works in is elegant.

The triangle story is next, with Peter Weller playing a bilingual rich man with a wife (Fanny Ardant, sensational) and a mistress (Chiara Caselli, OK). Fanny's big scene has her smashing a vase then chewing out her straying hubby. She manages to be drunk, angry and horny all at once: I have never seen her act with such power. Pity that the little sequel with Jean Reno meeting Fanny in the empty apartment isn't very effective.

The last segment with Irène Jacob, a pretty girl with a big secret, is a little gem, but it feels tacked-on, not really a part of the picture.

For thirteen years after "Identification of a Woman" Michelangelo Antonioni was unable to make another film. However in 1995 he made a sudden return with "Beyond the Clouds" a collection of short stories linked by a film director (john Malkovich). Each film explores, with no real conviction or success the themes of desire,love and deception . At the time the film was hailed as a success, both Antonioni and wenders, who undoubtedly directed parts of the film, were praised. However on closer examination "beyond the Clouds" is far from a masterpiece although visually the images are beautiful all the stories are both implausible and without depth. The film fails in its attempts to explore complex human emotions. John Malkovich's character also fails to link the stories neatly and his ramblings are both pretentious and boring. The only story worthy of real praise is the final one starring Irene Jacob, always superb, who adds a touch of concision to an otherwise lost film. For those looking to explore the human emotions of love, desire, freedom , loss and loneliness would do far better to watch Krystof Kielslowski,s acomplished "Three colours" trilogy which cleary show the late Kielslowski to be far superior to Antonioni.

A summing up of all the aging, ailing Antonioni's career themes, strengths (visual beauty, a sense of mystery and poetry) and weaknesses (pretentious stiff dialogue, ideas that are sometimes not really all that deep, a penchant for getting beautiful actresses undressed without a lot of justification).

But this is also something quite different than he's ever done, in that these are a series of short stories, loosely tied together by sequences of John Malkovich playing a director looking for his next film (Wim Wenders helped the physically limited Antonioni by directing the Malkovich sections).

By keeping the pieces smaller, I found this more fun, and more moving than most of Antonioni's films. There isn't the chance for the ideas to run as thin, and there seems to be more empathy for his characters now. Humans may be screwed up, but at least Antonioni no longer stands above them judging. One moment actually brought me near tears. The film captures the lonely enigmatic solitude of the artist, and of life itself.