IL BUCO (The Hole) (2022) Michelangelo Frammartino's third film is another of his minimalist wonders. All are set in his beloved Calabria, and, like his previous QUATTRO VOLTE, is concerned more with terra firma and the animal world than the humans that populate it. Filmed as documentaries, but, with an almost invisible narrative structure. Frammartino's films are akin to: What if Fredrick Wiseman made nature docs. No narrator. Almost invisible editing. No real dialogue.
It is 1961 and Italy is erecting the then tallest building in the nation in the prosperous northern city of Milan. Meanwhile, in the poorer southern region of Calabria, a group of spelunkers is exploring what turns out to be one of the world's deepest natural holes.
Even when the explorers are on camera, they are almost always shown from a distance, with the land and the farm animals providing the frame of reference. The exception are the native sheep herders who go about their daily lives almost oblivious to the scientific expedition occurring on and below their very landscape. In Frammartino's framing, they are part of the natural surroundings.
The cinematography by Renato Berta is extraordinary, both from a purely aesthetic as well as a physical and logistical standpoint. His camera follows the speleologists all the way down into the depths of the cave, step by step. The viewer feels as if they are descending along with the squad. Above the surface, Berta's work is no less impressive, capturing the audience's eye without ever being showy: Whether it's a small group of villagers watching a TV documentary on the building's construction (the only 'dialogue' in the entire film), the daily lives of the farmers, the fine details of the evolving map of the cave, or the farm animals grazing in the afternoon. The camerawork is never obtrusive, nor calls attention to itself. The sound department equally adds to the immersion that Frammartino is so carefully constructing. There is no musical score, the world creating its own organic soundtrack. The effect is mesmerizing if you can give yourself over to its rhythms.
IL BUCO is an exceptional cinematic experience for adventuresome film-goers.
P. S. By coincidence, on the very same day I wrote this, Experimental filmmaker Michael Snow (Wavelength) passed away. It's interesting to compare how Frammartino's films echo Snow's in that the very act of viewing their films makes one a participant in the very meaning of the work. RIP.
It is 1961 and Italy is erecting the then tallest building in the nation in the prosperous northern city of Milan. Meanwhile, in the poorer southern region of Calabria, a group of spelunkers is exploring what turns out to be one of the world's deepest natural holes.
Even when the explorers are on camera, they are almost always shown from a distance, with the land and the farm animals providing the frame of reference. The exception are the native sheep herders who go about their daily lives almost oblivious to the scientific expedition occurring on and below their very landscape. In Frammartino's framing, they are part of the natural surroundings.
The cinematography by Renato Berta is extraordinary, both from a purely aesthetic as well as a physical and logistical standpoint. His camera follows the speleologists all the way down into the depths of the cave, step by step. The viewer feels as if they are descending along with the squad. Above the surface, Berta's work is no less impressive, capturing the audience's eye without ever being showy: Whether it's a small group of villagers watching a TV documentary on the building's construction (the only 'dialogue' in the entire film), the daily lives of the farmers, the fine details of the evolving map of the cave, or the farm animals grazing in the afternoon. The camerawork is never obtrusive, nor calls attention to itself. The sound department equally adds to the immersion that Frammartino is so carefully constructing. There is no musical score, the world creating its own organic soundtrack. The effect is mesmerizing if you can give yourself over to its rhythms.
IL BUCO is an exceptional cinematic experience for adventuresome film-goers.
P. S. By coincidence, on the very same day I wrote this, Experimental filmmaker Michael Snow (Wavelength) passed away. It's interesting to compare how Frammartino's films echo Snow's in that the very act of viewing their films makes one a participant in the very meaning of the work. RIP.