Uspavani čovjek, film po romanu čudesnog Georgesa Pereca. Matematička permutacija ljudi, stvari i prostora. Sestinska kapela otuđenosti.
"Perec's 1967 novel Un homme qui dort is, by Perecian standards, a relatively straightforward work—its most noteworthy stylistic feature is its unfailingly beautiful use of the second person singular. It tells the story of its title character's attempted withdrawal from the world. At first the book's "you" seems a victim of depression; but the narrative grows more acute, and eventually genuine philosophical ideas emerge, and intertwine with the question of how to apply a philosophy to life as actually lived in a society/world that one cannot, finally, turn one's back on.
In the early '70s Perec and his friend Bernard Queysanne, a filmmaker whose experience had heretofore been as an assistant director, teamed up to make a film of the book. While much of the film's narration—which comprises the entirety of the film's verbal content; there is no dialogue—is taken directly from the novel, Perec jettisoned the book's linear structure in favor of, Bellos explains, "a mathematical construction. After the prologue (part 0, so to speak) there are six sections. The six sections are interchangeable in the sense that the same objects, places, and movements are shown in each, but they are all filmed from different angles and edited into different order, in line with the permutations of the sestina. The text and the music are similarly organized in six-part permutations, and then edited and mixed so that the words are out of phase with the image except at apparently random moments, the last of which—the closing sequence—is not random at all but endowed with an overwhelming sense of necessity."
Indeed. It's this structural sophistication that makes the 77-minute film so peculiarly compelling. As the screengrabs here suggest, much of the film's imagery comes from the playbook of the surreal and avant-garde. It's not hackneyed—we will never get our fill of reflections in cracked mirrors—or presented in a hackneyed way...merely familiar. It's in the differing permutations that they gain power. We start seeing them in new ways. An entire world is created through shifts in perspective and dislocations, and it's achieved so seamlessly that the viewer may well become hypnotized without quite understanding why.
Here's the conclusion of Bellos' sentence about the filmmakers' attitude towards their final product: "...but now that they had seen it properly, they, too, were moved to tears." As you may well be." - Glenn Kenny