[psycho d]

Blow-Up (1966). The opening of Blow-Up portends symbolic significance that can only be realized at the end, if at all. It then moves in the typical Antonioni direction which seems repulsed by such things as story and plot, as if such hum drum movie norms would somehow obstruct the movie making process. What is wonderful during this time spent accomplishing nothing is that we are lured in by a Thomas, a guy who exudes a violence of character without lifting a finger to harm.

Thomas, the show's anti-hero, is really more a menace than a citizen. He is impetuous, self-centered, a photographer. To him, even when there is something greater than his own presence available to occupy him, getting the perfect shot is paramount. Thomas is much like Alex in A Clockwork Orange but without the bloodshed.

But this story is not about Thomas. Instead it dances around perception. Thomas sees the world as he sees fit, until his camera catches something that he was looking at but did not see. This is where the magic of this movie really starts to shine, for it is here that it threatens to become something it is not. The movie itself plays with our perceptions. The audience tries to make something out of it but the movie does not comply with our wishes but toys with us none the less.

Even things such as worth are challenged. One of the best scenes in the movie fabulously demonstrates to us the fuel that drives worth, and that once an item's lure is lost in others then it is no longer worth coveting, in fact best dropped on the spot. This is one of many scenes that are both delightful to the eye and rich in symbolism. A landscape painting, an antique propeller, the droll existence of an antique shop, all of these scream out some message to Thomas, and it is never clear whether or not he even caught on to the director's designs- perfect.

The acting was absolute quality on all accounts, but it was David Hemmings' Thomas that stole the show. Vanessa Redgrave's character was probably the only one to make an impression on Thomas, but even here the mold does not match the original. Perception even here is skewed a tad.

Little more can be said of the direction except that it was magnificent. Known to extend scenes longer than the audience would like, Michelangelo Antonioni drags out the scenes with the aplomb a true master, daring us to look away or even pretend to be bored. We follow suit, and except for the adrenalin set, none of us exhibit restlessness mainly because we are too fascinated to be bored.

The camera work was mostly subtle when it worked its magic. From majestic long-shots to close-up pans, the camera is used to drive the movie and capture our curiosity. Is is by no means above manipulating its audience.

How to end such a movie creates almost a panic in the audience, for what we have just experienced defies a suitable ending, and we want not to be disappointed. Not to worry, the ending is almost a continuation of the unspoken question of its beginning, but this time allows the audience to understand its significance, or at least forgives us when when we too are caught up in the misrepresentation that is reality.
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