This third item in my HKIFF film diary is a complete departure from the first two. It's got nothing at all do with God or religion and is as far away from Europe as one can imagine. It is a very South American style of story telling which I think might be traced back to the Spanish picaresque novel tradition of Don Quixote. It was a film by driector Ciro Guerra and a co-production by Colombia, Holland and Argentina. It's about the adventure of an accordion said to have been cursed by the devil. There are two principal characters, a father/master and son/apprentice.
As the film opens, we are shown a close up of some cracked dry earth, in quasi hexagonal shapes. When the lens withdraws backward, it reveals a horizon. Against the light of the horizon, we see the shapes of two men with shovels facing each other. Earth was being thrown into the air, shovel by shovel, first on the left, then on the right. They kept digging. Then on screen left, we see the shapes of a small group of some 5 or 6 people, walking slowly towards the two digging shapes. They were carrying a coffin. Then we see a close up of the face of a man, triangular eyes, with a thick head of head and a Groucho Marx style moustache over his lips, a brown face full of lines. He was riding on a donkey. There was something slung across on his back. It was an accordion, fitted with two short white bull's horns, one each over the middle of the key pad on each side of the pleated"bellow" for producing air pressure to sound the relevant musical notes. He had little else. Not even a back pack. He was riding through the dusty street of a small town, slowly, thoughtfully, apparently uninterested in the passing scenery. He rode outside the town. A teenage boy with dark skin and a head of frizzy hair was following him. He asked if he could follow him. He introduced himself as the son of another woman whose name was instantly recognized by the man. He told the man he wanted to learn the accordion from him becasuse he knew he was the greatest player of that instrument around that part of the country. He had vowed that he would never leave until he learned the art from him. The man said no. But the boy still followed. Then we see a jeep rushing quickly towards the man and the donkey, kicking up a huge cloud of dust as it moved along. It stopped. A man emerged. He asked if the man would play at a party of a rich man. The man said no. The man left in anger, cursing him and saying that he did not know how much money he had let slip away. The accordion man acted as if he did not care and continued riding on with his donkey, the boy still following him. The boy asked the man where he was going. He said he would be going to Taroa, to return the accordion to its master. The boy followed.
Then the movie takes us to various parts of the Caribbean coasts, mountains, valleys, rivers, lagoons and deserts of Colombia. We see the man enter two competitions in various towns that he passed through on his way to Taroa whenever he could, just to have sufficient money to carry on the journey. But unless it took his fancy or unless he was forced to, he would never play. When he played, it was as if he was possessed. He played with passion. He threw his entire soul into it. When asked how he could play like that, he said the accordion played itself. In the first competition, he won but a follower of the reigning champion of many years stabbed him. He missed and damaged the bellow. After he recovered, he rode to another place. He said there was only one person who could repair it. He went up to a shack up at the top of a steep hill.. Later, we discovered that the repairer was his brother. His brother had it fixed and invited him to a drink of his moonshine. He refused. He said he had quit drinking since he was married. His brother asked him about his wife. He said she was dead. Then his brother told the boy the story about the accordion. He said the accordion was said to belong to a person who had a wager with devil. He won and the devil put a curse on it: whoever played it would be condemned to be a player until the day he died, a "juglar"! In the second competition, his drummer refused to accompany because the drummer's brother had had a quarrel with him. If he won, he would earn 1000 pesos. He was stranded. Then the boy said he would stand in. He looked surprised and shook his head. He had no choice. But instead of playing the designated song, he played a "merenge" because he spotted a beautiful married lady amongst the audience and he wanted to sing to her. He sang, and he played the accordion marvellously. The boy accompanied him on the bongo. But he did not win. He continued the journey, which took us up some small coastal towns, with lakes, lagoons, high up on the Andes with breathing taking views of hills, rocks, lush green trees and grass. In one of the towns, they witnessed a drummer's baptism in which the initiates played some beats with great verve after which the master declared that he would "baptize" them with lizard blood. The boy was impressed. He asked to be baptized. But the master told him, he must be fit to be baptized. And there was only one way to find out. He must prove himself. He started. He made some weak and non rhythmic noises. The other initiates laughed and sniggered and shouted that he could not play. He would not give up. Then he threw himself into it and played faster and faster and faster until his palms were all blisters. He was baptized. He asked the acordionist if he would teach him. He still refused. So he left him.
The boy came to a small town and asked a lady shopkeeper for some food. He said he could work and pay her back later. The lady took pity on him and gave him some food and when she saw her shoes were all tattered and had come from very far away, she gave him a pair of shoes.. Then he heard someone play the accordion next door. There was some celebration or other. He was curious. Three local magnates ordered some players to play. They did. They were not satisfied with their play. Then finally, he asked for a special accordion to be brought out. It was the accordion of his "master". Someone tried. The magnates were not happy. Then they said whoever could play best on that accordion would be given it. Some of those present played. They were not happy. The boy then said he would play. He did. But it was obvious he couldn't. He couldn't even make three consecutive notes. This angered the locals. One of them came out and beat him up, with blood all over his lips and around his eyes. But he took the blows, bowing his body to protect the accordion. Seeing this, the head local magnate asked the man to stop beating the child. He said if he wanted it so much that he would lay down his life for it, he should have it. The boy took the accordion and went to look for his "master".
In the next scene, the boy found his his master's donkey. He rushed over and found his master lying outside on the ground amongst the grass, a short distance outside the town. He took him to be nursed by some nearby villagers. But the mountain people said he did not want to live. They took him to a mountain top for some better air. A villager there played the local version of a flute. He played very well. Soon, we hear the man joined in with accompanying chords with his accordion. Before that, he was laying on the ground, with a white blanket over him, his eyes completely closed. He recovered.
In the final scene, they reached Taroa and the house of the master. He asked for him. A woman sitting outside a reed shed asked him if he was Ignacio Carillo. He said yes. He said the master had been waiting for him for a long time, to return the accordion. He was asked to go in. He went into the hut. There were candles over a half open coffin. Inside we see his master's brown face, all dried up. The woman said the master told her before he died that he was not to be buried until Ignatio returned the accordion! He played another song before the drying corpse, in front of 6 children of the master. The film ended.
It was a strange film of dedication, of persistence, of being faithful to one's vows, no matter how the vow came to be made in the first place. It seemed that a man is nothing without his personal vows. In a sense, he has become his vow. Perhaps he would be nothing if he were to desert the promises that he made. Ignatio vowed never to play the day he was married. He told the boy that he had played the accordion everywhere his entire life and he had been looking for a good woman for 10 years and when he found her, she died. He tried to break the curse by vowing never to play again once he found the woman. But life forces him to break his vow. He could keep his vow never to touch alcohol again but he could not resist playing when his heart moved him or when he was desperate for money to carry on living. In a way, his teenage follower was like him, as persistent, as stubborn and as determined and as faithful to his own vow. He vowed to his family and his girl friend that he would never return until he had learned the art from Ignatio! He was prepared to stake his life on it. Is that the Spanish spirit: the spirit of Don Quixote which has now born fruit on the strange soil of South America? It was a film about love and vows, told in stunning photography!
Why was the film entitled "Los viajes del viento" or literally the travels or voyages of the wind. It certainly is about a voyage. A voyage comes the word "voir" or the first person singular present tense "voy" or to see. The master "sees" the world through the "wind" or the music of his accordion. By playing different tunes, he defines himself as a man. Playing music was his livelihood until he settled down: when he found love. Previously he merely sang about it: how to find it, how it has been lost and how eagerly one awaits it. Once he found it, he no longer felt the need to sing with his accordion any more. He abandoned playing. But he made a promise. He had to fulfil that promise. Hence the journey back to Taroa. It is signficant that his accordion has a pair of bull's horn for handle. Is the director suggesting that stubbornness, the strength, that will, that determination of the accordion is a perfect image of the life of his hero? He played, but only for love and with real passion, not just for money. But there was a curse. Once one played it, one could never stop, until one died. Isn't that what the director is trying to tell us, through his breathtaking photography? And how did the man survive. He survived through music played from the heart, by the lone villager, on top of the Andes. He was also playing another more primitive wind instrument: the clay flute or pipe. When the hero heard the song from that man's heart, he responded. His eyes opened. He felt the urge to live again! And when he played before the coffin of the original owner of the accordion, he again played from his heart. He sang about life, before the image of death! He is still subject to the curse. The curse was the curse of all man. All are condemned to play, like the master accordionista, to play the music of their life, through a wind instrument. That wind instrument is our passion, something we decided to make our own and which we owe to ourselves to fulfil. It is the meaning of our life! It is our life!
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