The Great Ecstasy of Robert Carmichael (Thomas Clay, 2005)

[John Cope]

I don't know much about this movie, but what I do know sounds fascinating and has me intrigued. Evidently it's caused quite a stir in the UK for its depiction of youth violence in a small coastal town and director Clay's attempts to make grand statements by associating the screen atrocities with real life war footage. It's been said, in fact, that the behavior depicted in this movie goes beyond the cruelty of Noe's Irreversible. Now whether that's a valuable thing is up for debate and to be determined in my mind by Clay's larger intents. As it stands, though, it sounds like he's trying to ape not only Noe but perhaps also Bruno Dumont. Once again, this may or may not be a good thing. Finally, I would want to see this if only for the fact that it's been shot by Angelopoulos's great DP Yorgos Arvanitis.

For now, here's a sample review, and the only official site I could find (which is in French).

I will leave you with this bit of info. The filmmakers' stated intention is "If they vomit, we have succeeded in producing a reaction". I'm not entirely sold on that as the high bar of achievement.

Robert Carmichael hits Tartan DVD in February.

[Le Feu Follet]

This film has had a very bad reception in the UK, and I think it has been unjustly treated. To get you into the right ball-park, this film resembles in its narrative Clockwork Orange.

It is impossible to discuss this without potential spoilers.

People are offended by the long, final, very violent scene with murder and dreadful rape It was clear to me throughout the film that it was leading to such a conclusion. The film depicts a community of people around a school: parents, teachers and children, where the children are bored, using drugs and dabbling in crime.

The film is very concerned to locate the events in a specific cultural and historic context, and there are televisions on in various scenes, showing news of the war in Iraq. I understood the film to be a cry of anger, frustration and despair at a degenerated culture which seems no longer to be inculcating much decency or responsibility, leaving young people idle, bored and aimless. There is a scene in which a boy tells his father that he is thinking of getting a job, but the father, drinking with friends, pays no attention and expresses no interest.

In the UK there is a strong tradition of theatre, and many British films focus on the acting, and are often not much more than filmed acting. In addition there is great class awareness in the UK, and it is difficult to find British movies that are not articulated around class stereotypes.

I feel that this film does not conform to these generalizations. It is quite filmic, and good use is made of camera movements, and it does not spring from a position of class preoccupation.

One of the perpetrators of the final murder and rape is learning to play the cello, and the film makes the now cliched link between prowess in classical music and evil deeds, as was made in Clockwork Orange and in Elephant. I would be interested to hear any theories as to what this idea expresses and where it comes from.

I saw this film at a festival and was told that the organizers had tried to get the director, Thomas Clay, for a Q & A, but he doesn't do them any more because he is so attacked by the audience. The film opened in the UK about two weeks ago, and has played so far in only one cinema in London. Many critics have dismissed it with no reference to its political content, its cinematic quality, or to the fact that it is a first film. Many have criticized some of the acting, but if bad acting rules films out, I'm not sure where that would leave Antonioni and Hitchcock, among others.

I would be interested to read the opinions of others who have seen it.[/i]

[a.khan]

This month's issue of Sight & Sound has a review:

Should Peter Greenaway ever film a script by Bruno Dumont featuring characters conceived by Mike Leigh, the result might resemble The Great Ecstasy of Robert Carmichael. First-time writer-director Thomas Clay shows a highly imaginative grasp of film grammar. He favours dissolves rather than hard cuts to move between shots, which creates a dreamlike atmosphere during even the most unsavoury sequences. His use of music, from Purcell to dub reggae, complicates every image. And his choice of camera movements, in particular sideways dollying shots, recalls early Godard. In all other areas - especially the integration of ideas into action, and the directing of his cast - he exhibits serious deficiencies....

more

[marty]

I saw the film in Cannes in 2005. I think the film is well-directed and beautifully shot in 2.35 aspect ratio with the same cinematographer that shoots Theo Angelopoulos' movies. The film is somewhat derivative of A Clockwork Orange but not in a negative way. It doesn't hold a light to Kubrick's masterpiece. There is a great scene though in an apartment where it's all in one single shot. The camera pans around the room where a DJ is playing some hard-techno music and others are lounged around injecting heroin and snorting coke while, in the meantime, a young woman is being raped off-screen in the other room. Its a very powerful scene without being explicit.

However, the film's final scene where these louts break into a wealthy couple's house and severely bash the husband and rape the wife ala A Clockwork Orange is more explicit. The scene is all in one master shot and there are no close-ups of the attack although you clearly see the violence being perpetrated and the woman being gang-raped and then having a shard of glass forced into her vagina causing her death. The acting all round is very good but the film is not as great as what it could have been. It's a tough watch but well worth seeing. I very much look forward to the director's next film.

[jesus the mexican boi]

It is impossible to discuss this without potential spoilers.

Oh?

However, the film's final scene where these louts break into a wealthy couple's house and severely bash the husband and rape the wife ala A Clockwork Orange is more explicit. The scene is all in one master shot and there are no close-ups of the attack although you clearly see the violence being perpetrated and the woman being gang-raped and then having a shard of glass forced into her vagina causing her death.

Ah.

[zedz]

This month's issue of Sight & Sound has a review:

First-time writer-director Thomas Clay shows a highly imaginative grasp of film grammar. He favours dissolves rather than hard cuts to move between shots, which creates a dreamlike atmosphere during even the most unsavoury sequences.

It sounds like Clay's tastes run beyond your common or garden Kubrick: this technique was cribbed from Aleksandr Rogozhkin's under-appreciated gem The Guard. That film also explodes in violence, but the real pay-off is when the film ends with an extended dream sequence in which the 'dreamlike' dissociated dissolves are replaced by the film's first hard cuts.

[Nothing]

fwiw, the French reaction has been very different from the UK.

Art Brut

Premier long metrage de l'Anglais Thomas Clay, <The Great Ecstasy of Robert Carmichael> déchaîne la violence avec une maîtrise impassible.

Les phénomènes de rejet massif sont devenus suffisamment rares pour être notés. La projection à la Semaine de la Critique, l'an dernier, au Festival de Cannes, de The Great Ecstasy of Robert Carmichael s'est terminée dans un escalandre général, les spectateurs se levant pour fuir vers la sortie, manifestant bruyamment leur réprobation, certains, terriblement choqués par les dernier plans ultraviolents fondaient en larmes dans le hall. Le débat houleux qui suivit, en présence du jeune réalisateur anglais, Thomas Clay, et de son producteur Joseph Lang, ne parvint pas à calmer les espirits. <Où voulez-vous en venir?> était le point névralgique de la discussion, sans qu'aucun argument avancé par le cinéaste d'un ton neutre ne parvienne à lever le traumatism des images. La question reste la même au jourd'hui.

Coup de tonnerre. Un an après cette avant-première, le film sort en France (assorti d'une interdiction au moins de 16 ans avec avertissement) alors qu'il n'est toujours pas distribué dans son pays d'origine et que des mensuels d'obédience aussi diverses que Score ou les Caheirs du cinéma lui ont d'ores et déjà réglé son compte. The Great Ecstasy... pose effectivement problème, caillou dans la chaussure critique autant que coup de tonnerre dans un cinéma anglais actuellement très en forme, et, à la revoyure, même à froid, loin des passijons festivalières, il demeure l'un des premiers films les plus surprenants et plastiquement maîtrés de récent mémoire.

Par tableaux. Le 'Robert Carmichael' du title est un adolescent doué et introverti qui vit avec sa mère dans une petite ville côtière anglaise. Il joue Purcell an violoncelle, se branle sur les 120 Journées de Sodome, fume de shit, traîne avec deux lascars à la dérive, découvre avec eux l'ecsta et la coke et finit par violer et tuer une bourgeoise des beaux quatiers dan des conditions d'une barbarie abjecte. Le film, tel un cheminement hasardeux, est construit en une succession de tableaux hyperréalistes (scènes d'école, de pub, de glande enschnouffée) qui pourraient se révéler en même temps fantasmatiques. Le film trouble et demeure énigmatique parce qu'il semble vouloir embrasser dans sa totalité le problème philosophique de la violence.

D'une séquence l'autre, plusieurs pistes sont lancées. Violence individuelle qui n'est que l'écho de celle des Etats (allusion répétée à la guerre en Irak alors en gestation), violence constitutive des hommes que rien ne civilise (Robert, garçon instruit, bon fils, cache un monstre) ou encore violence sociale, conséquence ultime d'un rapport de classe inégalitaire, et d'une vie sans but. A qui la faute? Chômage, carnages planétaires multidiffusés, drogue, ennui, absence d'idéal ou de Dieu ou simplement <l'ardeur des passions mauvaise> dont parle Yeats... La somme des réponses avancée ne suffit pas à résoudre l'énigme. Et contrairement à une pulsion humaine qui tend à vouloir tout rationaliser pour exorciser la peur du néant, The Great Ecstasy of Robert Carmichael ne fait finalement que confirmer la désespérante absurdité du monde.

Sans trembler. En ce sens, s'il faut trouver une filiation à Thomas Clay, c'est du côté de Bruno Dumont pour le portrait d'une humanité dechue, Larry Clark pour celle d'une jeunesse livrée à elle-même, Ken Loach pour la radiographie de ces lads Britanniques en déshérence, ou encore Michael Haneke pour le côté film à thèse glaçant. Bien sûr, il faudrait citer encore la référence poids lourd qui s'est imposée depuis que Great Ecstasy a été présenté comme un Orange mecanique du XXIe siècle. Si l'ombre de Kubrick plane dur ce premier film de Thomas Clay, c'est par ailleurs moins par son propos qu par une mise en scène maniaquement léchée, précise et implacable. Le chef opérateur Yorgos Arvanitis, collaborateur attitré de Theo Angelopoulos, signant ici un cinémascope mercuriel, ne s'y est pas trompé en faisant confiance à ce parfait inconnu de 26 ans. Seul l'avenir bien entendu permettra de confirmer le caractère éclatant (ou superficiel) de Clay.

Pour l'heure, The Great Ecstasy ne risque pas de faire consensus. Il frappe sans trembler et dénude l'époque dans son absolue dureté.

A.B. et D.P.

[a.khan]

Repetez, en anglais, s'il vous plait

[JabbaTheSlut]

I saw the film a year ago. In my humble opinion the film is a sensationalist, pretensious, clumsy, inhuman, badly-acted, dull-minded and silly but not funny piece of cinema. To be fair the cinematography is beautiful but the film is nowhere near the names and titles (Kubrick, Clockwork, Greenaway etc.) mentioned in the reviews. Go to see it and see if you can point out the crudely obvious homages and/or cross-references to the above-mentioned directors and film. You can, trust me.

[a.khan]

For the effort, david =D>

If you ever find the time to translate the rest, I promise to read it.

[Nothing]

An interpretive attempt:

Art Brut
Liberation - April 27th 2006

The debut feature from British director Thomas Clay, The Great Ecstasy of Robert Carmichael, unleashes violence with a measured control.

The phenomena of the mass-walkout has become sufficiently scarce to be worth noting. The screening of The Great Ecstasy of Robert Carmichael, in Critic's Week at the Cannes Film Festival last year, ended in general hysteria; the spectators rising to flee towards the exit, noisily expressing their reprobation, some, incredibly shocked by the last, ultra-violent scenes, collapsing into tears in the lobby. The surging debate that followed, in the presence of the young English director, Thomas Clay, and his producer, Joseph Lang, did not manage to calm the spirits. What was the point of this neuralgic discussion, when no argument advanced by the filmmaker, speaking in measured tones, could erase the trauma of the images? The question remains the same today.

Thunder Bolt. One year after this premiere, the film opens in France (together with a '16-or-over' certificate and a compulsory warning) whilst it is still not distributed in its country of origin and monthly magazines as different as Score and Cahier du Cinema have been reserved in their response. The Great Ecstasy does indeed pose a problem, as much a stone in the critic's shoe as it is a thunder bolt in British cinema (a cinema very much in form), and yet, fatalistic, cold, far from a barrel of laughs, it remains one of the most surprising and supplely crafted debut films in recent memory.

In Tableaux. The 'Robert Carmichael' of the title is a gifted yet introverted teenager who lives with his mother in a small English coastal town. He plays Purcell on his cello, masturbates over The 120 Days of Sodom, smokes dope, hangs out with two local rogues, discovers with them ecstasy and coke and ends up raping and killing a middle-class woman in her beautiful home in a despicably barbaric manner. The film, in proposing this hazardous tale, is constructed in a series of hyper-realistic tableaux (scenes from the school, the pub, the drug-den) which could, at the same time, be taken to be fantastical. The film disturbs and remains enigmatic because it wants to embrace in its totality the philosophical problem of violence.

In one sequence after another, a series of possibilities are advanced. Individual violence as an echo of US aggression (there are repeated references to the Iraq war, ensuing in the background), a violence inside man that cannot be civilised (Robert, the educated boy, the good son, conceals a monster) or a more social violence, the ultimate consequence of an unequal class system. Unemployment, fate, drugs, ennui, the absence of meaning or the absence of God or simply the "passionate intensity" about which Yeats speaks... The combined sum of all these answers still cannot solve the enigma. Contrary to the human impulse which seeks to rationalise everything and exorcise the fear of nothingness, The Great Ecstasy of Robert Carmichael, in the end, confirms only the desperate absurdity of the world.

Without Fear. In this way, if it is necessary to identify a confederate with Thomas Clay, it would be Bruno Dumont for his portrait of a fallen humanity, Larry Clark for his depiction of a youth left to its own devices, Ken Loach for his X-ray of the British underclass, or Michael Haneke for his glacial, theoretical cinema. Of course, it would also be necessary to mention the comparison, frequently imposed, that The Great Ecstasy is A Clockwork Orange for the 21st Century. If the spirit of Kubrick looms large over this first film by Thomas Clay, it is less because of its subject matter than because of a mise en scène that is maniacally delectable, precise and relentless. Director of photography Yorgos Arvanitis, regular collaborator with Theo Angelopoulos, and signing here to a mercurial cinematography, was not mistaken in trusting this unknown 26-year-old. Of course, only the future will make it possible to confirm the brilliant (or superficial) character of Clay.

For now, The Great Ecstasy is unlikely to form consensus. It strikes without fear and lays bare our era in its absolute hardness.

A.B and D.P.

[Le Feu Follet]

Just in the interest of making this discussion more interesting and to give us something to talk about, about can you say, Davidhare, what are the multiple things that put you off it?

[Nothing]

n.b. I think it is incorrect to say the film isn't funny. One might even call it a comedy, though perhaps that's taking the point too far.

[Nothing]

But David, virtually all criticism is ideological. The British reviews posted above are certainly ideological - indeed, one could say that the positivity / negativity of all the reviews follows a clear ideological line between the radical left and the liberal-humanist bourgeoisie.

Is not the relationship between the mooted violent content and your desire to see the film not also ideological? What does violent (or non-violent)imagery have to do with the potential merits of a film?

As for your bizarre dismissal of Dumont, that is for another thread

[Le Feu Follet]

I would make the obvious point that all criticism is driven by ideology, the only difference being, apart from the ideologies, that some writers recognize this and put their ideology upfront, while others don't, and pretend their writing is sort of common sense.

I agree that much film writing is pretty poor, with too little attention given to reading, understanding and analysing the film, and too much given to personal partiality. Of course many critics feel the need to write entertainingly, and to say smart things to appeal to the non-specialist, rather than just getting on with the job of understanding the film.

Most strikingly I understand you to blame the film for critical writing about it that you don't like. This seems pretty hard on poor Thomas Clay.

I have seen this film and I think the first thing to be said about it is that it is politically engaged and it is politically frustrated and angry. You may not like the film, you may think it is misconceived, you may disagree with its political sentiment, but the first thing to report is that it is an angry, political film. Many critics have failed to do even that.

I know a lot of people come to the cinema for escapist entertainment (an expectation inculcated by Hollywood marketing, which has turned an art into a channel for profit), but I am pleased when a film tries to talk about the world we live in, that is engagist rather than escapist, because that is an important function of art, and Thomas Clay, in his first film, has tried to do something worthwhile.

[John Cope]

And they interestingly don't even relate Clay's movie to any previous thread of "transgressive" moviemakers like Noe, or Breillat. (They do mention Bruno Dumont whose movies I find intolerable, as I do for the most part Noe and Breillat!)

Oh, come on, David, Seul contre tous truly is a great film. I admit that I have less patience with Irreversible. And I love Dumont as well, despite the fact that I don't share his underlying ideology. I have a similar respect for Cronenberg. What they seek to reveal is valuable and worth struggling with for the most part. Their dedication to the purity of their drives makes the end result highly respectable even when I disagree with its intents.

As to the whole question of ideological criticism, I'm afraid I have to agree that I can't understand how any point of view can exist without one (unless I'm misunderstanding the term, which is quite possible; if I am please inform me). The notion that we can ever exist without the structuring principle of our predispositions and inclinations guiding our perceptions or philosophy seems naive and very anti-Wittgensteinian.

[zedz]

The distinction I find most useful when considering the role of ideology in criticism is whether or not the criticism is about the ideology, or about the text (filmic or otherwise).

A lot of (poor to useless, in my opinion) criticism simply uses the text as a prop for the ideology: let's just subject text x to critical function f to prove the strength or importance of that critical function. Unfortunately, f(x) proves nothing of the sort, and in the process the text often turns into a generalised cipher, with the critic ignoring all the attributes of the text that don't support the theory / critical function / ideology.

Criticism that is about the text, and is sensitive to its specifics, can be ideologically neutral (or faux-neutral, if you subscribe to the view that there's no such thing as ideological neutrality) or ideologically charged, and still be useful, by providing a different lens that offers a new view of the work. For example, there are feminist and queer readings of films by Howard Hawks that offer me valuable insights into the films, even though these readings often fail to account for the entirety of the texts.

The same goes for auteruist readings, in my opinion, and the worst excesses of the Cahiers crew (e.g. that all works of an designated auteur such as Alfred Hitchcock are fantastic, by virtue of the 'fact' of his designation, and are furthermore intrinsically more valuable than any works by a designated non-auteur, such as John Huston) crush the joyful specificity of individual works of art with unnuanced dogma. On the other hand, auteurism provides an invaluable tool for perceiving, analysing and understanding that joyful specificity in the first place.

[Le Feu Follet]

So what is the connection between Thomas Clay and these other dirctors, Bruno Dumont, Gaspar Noé and Ingmar Bergman?

[lazier than a toad]

The distinction I find most useful when considering the role of ideology in criticism is whether or not the criticism is about the ideology, or about the text (filmic or otherwise).

I agree with this and much that you say in the rest of your post, and certainly agree that many critics, in the UK at least, have written reviews confused between the ideologically and textually driven.

However, in their defence, I think the text/form/whatever of ...Robert Carmichael betrays the very same contradiction/hypocrisy/confusion. And not in a good way.

I think the best example of what I mean is that the already heavy handed references/allegory to the war in Iraq (which has been used to justify the films more extreme - sexual - violence) is undermined by the direction of violence in the film. That is, from the disenfranchised to the franchised. That the class lines are blurred by the fact that Robert plays the cello, on the other hand, is a mute point as he does not feel integrated/understood/empowered because of that.

I think the thing that disappointed me the most is that I don't mind heavy handed and obvious expressions of political/ideological points in films. I almost love it when Spike Lee hammers home his points time after time (have you watched Bamboozled with the commentary? - "And they're all racist" he says about the blacked up audience - genius). But in ...Carmichael Clay destroys his own ideological point(s) by massive textual contradictions.

I think my viewing of the film was made even less rewarding by the fact that I had read Edward Bond's Saved the week before, which written more than 30 (40?) years ago would make a much better critique of the war in Iraq.

All that said I thought a lot of the camera work was great. And it is very nice to see a new British film-maker getting noticed.

[Le Feu Follet]

many critics, in the UK at least, have written reviews confused between the ideologically and textually driven.

Do you mean by this there the textually driven is not ideological?

However, in their defence, I think the text/form/whatever of ...Robert Carmichael betrays the very same contradiction/hypocrisy/confusion.

Could you give us examples, Window, of these, particularly the confusion between the textual and ideological, and the hypocrisy.

I think the best example of what I mean is that the already heavy handed references/allegory to the war in Iraq (which has been used to justify the films more extreme - sexual - violence)

I think the film tries to create a social and political context for the events that it depicts, and the war in Iraq is just a part of this. There are other parts, too, such as the father's indifference to whether his son gets a job, the effects of drugs, the mistrust between the police and the young people and the disconnection between the parental and younger generations. Where has it been argued that the Iraq element alone justifies the film's conclusion?

That the class lines are blurred by the fact that Robert plays the cello

Are you saying here that learning a musical instrument is in the UK a class related activity? If it is I haven't noticed it.

in ...Carmichael Clay destroys his own ideological point(s) by massive textual contradictions.

Please, can you give us examples of these contradictions?

Edward Bond's Saved was Bond's second play, written when he was 32 years old, Ecstacy is Clay's first film, made when he was 26. I would prefer to encourage him, rather than bear down on him with a large burden of criticism. It seems clear to me that he has seriously intent and wants to make challenging films. We need more of these.

I enjoyed the camera-work very much but can't agree that this is an example of a British film-maker getting noticed. The film opened in one small cinema in London, and played for about two weeks. Some cinema chains refused to handle it.

[NABOB OF NOWHERE]

[quote="Le Feu Follet"]
Are you saying here that learning a musical instrument is in the UK a class related activity? If it is I haven't noticed it.



You're so right... you can't move round the east end of Glasgow because of cello toting hoodies and those colliery brass bands really snarl up the traffic in Windsor come a saturday afternoon.

[Nothing]

Window - at what point does the film claim to be a critique or inditement of Iraq? The references are only heavy-handed if taken within this context. Yes, the film hints at the sophistry and self-interest behind the war, but that is simply a matter of record. What the film does not do is pass moral judgement - in the same way that it does not judge the actions of the teenagers. You might say that it is anthropological, not ideological, although it is ultimately concerned with universal philosophical questions.

The Iraq clips also serve a far more functional purpose in that they define the time frame of the narrative. Without these clips, it would not be readily apparent that the film takes place on three separate days, each separated by a number of weeks (a point the inattentive S&S reviewer seems to miss).

[lazier than a toad]

Ok in reply to Nothing about Iraq:

I feel that the whole Churchill explosion after woman has been raped to death by sword and Iraq sound clips thing does count as a moral judgment: A very blunt one.

In response to Le Feu Follet, in bits:

What i meant about the critics was that they often let their review of the films technical and textual aspects be (harmfully) informed by ideological differences they may have perceived between them and Clay. Thus their remarks become a little "confused" and unnecessarily hostile, in many cases. Alternatively they could seek solace from the sexual violence in allegories such as that to the Iraq war (at least one local London paper did this).

The references to the Iraq war etc was a an example. Hence that bit started: "I think the best example of what I mean". I gave that example as it was for me the greatest, which, again for me, undermined the whole film.

In my experience classical music is less easily and less often pursued on a low income (parental or otherwise). Unfortunately.

The bit about Edward Bond was not supposed to criticise Clay or draw your wrath, but rather, perhaps, give an alternative and personal reason for feeling this way about the film, other than a general and unjustified just not thinking it was any good. And i am glad that there is a young british filmmaker trying to make challenging films.

It was not widely released but has generated something of a controversy, which has drawn comparisons with other directors, in respnse to another post above, particularly Noe.

[Nothing]

Window, there is no explicit reference to Iraq in this sequence (the sounds of war could be taken from any 20-21st century conflict). By placing Churchill into this context, one could say that the film mocks 'Britishness' and British moral righteousness of any kind, suggesting that, even in a figure such as Churchill and an event such as the second world war, there is no such thing as moral certainty.

I have a copy of Positif here that says: "the soiled image of Churchill at the close of the first remarkable film by Thomas Clay puts an end not only to a phase in history, but to an entire way of thinking" (nb. pls don't ask for a full translation, it is too long/complicated).

[lazier than a toad]

I cant remember exactly now, but even if the sounds in/around that sequence are not from the Iraq war i still (sorry) feel that given the fairly regular use of sound bites from coverage of that war, a unmistakable link exist in that scene between the rape, Iraq war and churchhill. Especially if you remember that it was him who first used chemical weapons on the marsh arabs, not saddam.

And dont get me wrong i think churchhill's image needs to be soiled more often. Or rather he needs to be shown for what he was. And his image is (for above reasons especially) very relevant to the Iraq war and british hippocrisy in being there - he was recently voted most popular primeminister ever in a tv poll, i think.[/b]