I don't know what Rossellini would have thought of Guy Maddin's work. Personally, I loved "The Saddest Music in the World", but as an artist, he can't be any more different from Rossellini. Where Rossellini was obsessed with portraying reality and the lives of ordinary people, Maddin is interested in the avant-garde and stylistic excess. This short (it's only 10 minutes), narrated by Isabella Rossellini (who is the daughter of the great director and a frequent collaborator with Maddin), is a highly personal love letter from daughter to father, and it's beautiful.
Daughter Rossellini acknowledges the troubles her father faced and knows that he was a complicated man. He said himself "All my films were a battle." At the beginning of the film she asks "Was he a genius?" She then goes on to portray Hitchcock, Selznick, and Fellini arguing with her father about the nature of cinema. Father Rossellini is portrayed by a giant belly. Yes, a giant belly, this being an aspect of her father that she remembers with fondness. In one particularly self-reflexive and funny scene, daughter Rossellini scolds Maddin and asks him to bring down his camera from high up, stating that her father would never have allowed for such pretensions in cinema. It's a sign of deep respect on Maddin's part that he lowers the camera, something not often seen with directors paying homage.
She closes the short with a head-on shot, stating that although she does not know if her father was a genius, she does know one thing- that she loves him deeply. Just lovely.
cococravescinema.blogspot.com
Daughter Rossellini acknowledges the troubles her father faced and knows that he was a complicated man. He said himself "All my films were a battle." At the beginning of the film she asks "Was he a genius?" She then goes on to portray Hitchcock, Selznick, and Fellini arguing with her father about the nature of cinema. Father Rossellini is portrayed by a giant belly. Yes, a giant belly, this being an aspect of her father that she remembers with fondness. In one particularly self-reflexive and funny scene, daughter Rossellini scolds Maddin and asks him to bring down his camera from high up, stating that her father would never have allowed for such pretensions in cinema. It's a sign of deep respect on Maddin's part that he lowers the camera, something not often seen with directors paying homage.
She closes the short with a head-on shot, stating that although she does not know if her father was a genius, she does know one thing- that she loves him deeply. Just lovely.
cococravescinema.blogspot.com