“A must-see retrospective (of) not just a great movie director but . . . a major European artist-one of the very few filmmakers ever recognized as such.”-J. Hoberman, Village Voice
A retrospective of the films of the Italian director Michelangelo Antonioni is always timely-as our world changes, so, it seems, do his films. This may be a characteristic of modernism in general, a movement of which Antonioni (b. 1912) was cinema's most elegant proponent. Despite having apprenticed to Roberto Rossellini, Antonioni skirted neorealism for a cinema of interiority expressed through what author Seymour Chatman called “the surface of the world.” His main contribution is said to be the characterization of a void in the lives of the middle class; even more than Bergman, Antonioni made absence a presence on the screen. But what was considered fashionable angst in the 1960s today plays with astounding emotional currency. Is this because Antonioni was prescient, or because of what his films, spanning five decades, have taught us about looking at the world?
The strikingly delicate performances Antonioni elicits from his lead actors-not only Monica Vitti, muse of his defining trilogy L'avventura, L'eclisse, and the mid-career masterpiece Red Desert; but Jeanne Moreau in La notte, Jack Nicholson in The Passenger-offer their own intellectual challenges. Since Antonioni's typical male is a wanderer, at home nowhere and thus everywhere, and since what Antonioni deals with is alienation and its spaces, it is not always recognized that he is a consummate director of women's emotions-a proto-feminist, distilling psychology into a protracted reaction shot. Today we see that Antonioni painted his pain in facing the modern condition as few directors have, and that this has made his films eminently human.