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“Blue is the color of the mind in borrow of the body; it is the color consciousness becomes when caressed…”
We came from ice. We become water, flowing, both warm and cold, blue and gray, green and orange; violent like the spider yet sensuous as lovers. Turning over stones in labor; harvest by hand or mechanized combine. Sunlight fading in favor of night, dark with a blue hue: lambent moon, you cast charms—shading our umbrous bodies painted with your dripping brush.
Back we shall go, annular like a band that binds the bridegroom to his wife, to that cyanic state of our origin, first as a mist, then as snow, white at first, then finally, blue again, winking through the verglas as we awake after a lengthy slumber to begin once more; to emerge, refreshed from the long freeze.
“Il Pianeta Azzurro. A poem, a voyage, a concert on nature, universe, life. A different image from the one we always see." ― Andrei Tarkovsky
An epic natural symphony playing across three planes of time.
On the surface level, Piavoli observes the vegetal and animal realms of Earth throughout the span of a single day, from dawn to dusk and dawn once more. In yet another plane, the film charts the passage of seasons across one whole year, beginning with the thawing ice as winter makes way for spring, and subsequently summer for autumn and winter again. Finally, this grand meditation on flora and fauna is extrapolated to stretch out over billions of years, finding the origins of life…
The reason why I disappeared from this website for a couple of weeks is that I've been on a rocky trip to Rome where I'm about to interview Silvano Agosti, producer of Il Pianeta Azzurro/The Blue Planet, for a forthcoming short film project of mine. I will write more about Silvano and the project in separate reviews, since this film has little to do with them. However, I will mention that this is the film that gave the name to Cinema Azzurro Scipioni, the arthouse theatre owned by Silvano which is about to be torn down, and where I will bring my camera tomorrow.
Il Pianeta Azzurro itself is a masterclass in observation. At once a landscape film, a nature…
s’extasier devant des lumières qui s’éteignent à la venue de la nuit et devant des portes séparant la maison familiale de la nature.
Le film est divisé en deux parties. La première se consacre davantage à la nature, à la biodiversité, aux éléments végétaux. On aperçoit la pluie sur les feuilles, les animaux, les insectes filmés en gros plan, captés dans leur naturalisme le plus profond. Nous voyons l’eau sur les roches, le vent dans les arbres, les nuages en mouvement, les gouttes de pluie au contact des rivières, une multitude de petits détails qu’on distingue, qu’on observe, qu’on sent et qu’on ressent de la vie quotidienne, mais sur lesquels on ne s’attarde pas vraiment. Franco Piavoli souhaite, lui, s’y…
The pain, suffering and shitty times will never end but thankfully we have films like this one to make us feel alive for a while. A truly beautiful and entrancing journey through nature and life.
Franco Piavoli reduces humanity down to just another component of a singular organism (Earth). And this is not to downplay humanity but rather to bring us closer to nature. Juxtaposing the images of the insects and plants with humans makes you wonder where exactly is the difference here? The film starts and ends with water just like how life starts and ends with water. We are all one
A lot quieter of an affair than the next year's better known Koyaanisquatsi, choosing to view humanity as little more than another creature skittering across the surface of the earth and regarding their industry and infrastructure with the same sedate beauty one might find in an anthill. It's genuinely lovely stuff, with the soundscape dominated by the sounds of nature and the occasional fragment of unsubtitled Italian chatter, with a gorgeous bit of music at the end (if anyone knows what it is, as it doesn't appear to be credited, I'd appreciate it). Kinda insubstantial, but well assembled, pretty, and sticks the landing well enough (that fog, gah! It's beautiful!) to be tough to forget.
Piavoli once said in an interview “The poetry of cinema happens when one confides mainly in his/her own creative freedom." That’s precisely what he did and why it took so long to create his first feature film, he chose to follow his creative freedom and made the types of films he always wanted to make, he was told by his friends to go to Rome, make films there you will be successful but instead he waited for the right moment where he’s able to create his first feature the way he’d always intended. Piavoli forms a new cinematic language through his lack of theatrical elements and dialogue based narrative and speaks entirely through his cinematography and editing of constant close-ups…
i was yearning for some decompression, some sense of relief among the merciless and hastening succession of everyday tasks, and overstimulating efforts between tangible matters and urban microcosms - i knew i once again needed to plunge myself into his vision, so once i saw his name as i was taking a look upon the screenings at my local, indie movie house, i swiftly felt my glance brighten up at the thought of basking into one of his signature, visual poems.
it soothes my world, and widens the virtue found into the observation towards detailed fragments of cosmic forces. a hymn to the realm of creation, a visual journey along every particle that keeps the earth moving, a symphony interlacing…
first 25-30 minutes would make for a perfect short film. the following hour is wonderful, it’s so warm and full of life (to the point i nearly started drifting off), and it has an incredible soundscape that reached back into the recesses of my memory. but nothing tops the rhetorical strength and perfect structure of that first part, nor does anything approach the “paint and scratch” sequence or the sex scene. it’s giving agathon’s speech on love in plato’s symposium
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