LOVE AFFAIR, OR THE CASE OF THE MISSING SWITCHBOARD OPERATOR A-
Yugoslavia (79 mi) 1967 US version (70 mi) d: Dušan Makavejev
Makavejev performs a dizzyingly irreverent dissection on a rapidly changing Yugoslavian society entering the modern world as seen through the love affair of an attractive young Hungarian switchboard operator Izabela (Eva Ras) and a Turkish Marxist rat exterminator Ahmed (Slobodan Aligrudic) that comprise a diverse new society. This is a remarkably unique film, blurring the line between fact and fiction, filled with bold imagery and some unusual editing to say the least, featuring abrupt cuts of the daily routines of the budding romance, cinema vérité shots of the street life of the city, a view of the floor of the switchboard operators working in mass, constantly pestered by a persistent young telegraph operator who tries to get into every girl’s pants, newsreel footage of demonstrations and mass protests, and also clinical scientific lectures on the nature of sex mixed in with the latest techniques on criminality. Often set to the rousing enthusiasm of fervent nationalistic music, we see Izabela walking down the streets to the sounds of the Yugoslavian national anthem, occasionally sneaking a quick peek at the camera. Early on, though, we also see her corpse being pulled out of a deep well, where we even watch the performance of her autopsy, narrated with utter scientific methodology, complete with the latest surgical methods, each surgical tool carefully laid out on the abdomen and legs of her cold and naked body. Ahmed uses the always alluring come-on line: “When it comes to chasing rats, I’m your man.”
For sexual foreplay with this young couple Izabela prefaces it with “There’s something good to watch” as they view Russian marches and military parades on Yugoslavian State-run television followed by the fall of the Romanovs and what looks like the beginning of the Vertov film ENTHUSIASM (1931), featuring the marching Soviet Army and the Soviet national anthem playing to documentary newsreel shots of masses of people plundering the churches, tearing down the crosses and removing the icons, any symbol of Christianity left in the now proudly atheistic nation, replacing them with Russian flags, also images of Mao and Lenin. Intercut with these images are scenes of the happy couple being playful, sipping apricot brandy, having fun, watching TV, eventually getting naked and making love. Eva Ras is especially appealing as Izabela, the picture of a happy and adoring young girlfriend, doting on him whenever she can, rarely even bothering to put her clothes back on. He acknowledges this is his first relationship with a “modern woman.” Sexual images are continually mixed with rousing patriotic music, including German military marches, a similar technique used later to stunning effect by Béla Tarr in WERCKMEISTER HARMONIES (2000).
We might hear a professor describe a history of ancient phallic cults while claiming all the great artists dealt with the subject of sex, even Rembrandt depicted sexual acts, claiming there’s nothing prudish about a painting depicting parents engaged in sex with young children playing around them and a meal cooking off to the side, which is not pornographic, but a portrait of harmonious marital bliss. Izabela can be seen making Ahmed cherry crepes from scratch, or they’re seen eating granola and honey with their fingers, or she serenades him admiringly with a song. To the tinkling sounds of a music box, we see old scratchy video images of a naked Adam and Eve, continually changing positions to represent mythical literary characters, presented like a ballet. When Ahmed leaves for a protracted business assignment, things aren’t the same when he returns. At one point, Izabela is seen staring directly into the camera yelling defiantly “I didn’t sign on to be your slave.”
All in all, this is a remarkably different, sarcastically funny film comparing various warring styles and ideologies with sex and politics, throwing in little tidbits like “The hardest part of being a murderer is finding a way to remove the victim’s body,” where it’s hard to conceal the traces of blood, footprints, and other incriminating evidence, where in the old days it was enough to hop on a bus or train to avoid capture, but nowadays the advancement of scientific techniques allows authorities to relentlessly pursue indefinitely. Often there is a cut to the Yugoslavian Army marching, banners waving, nationalistic songs proudly proclaiming a sunny future on the horizon, which might be followed by a lecture on the history of rats in Europe since the Medieval days. It’s hard not to smile at the brash, audacious ambition of this film, always poking fun at the Soviets, bringing in the full measure of the promised Communist propaganda and the unfailingly sunny forecast, which of course is never fulfilled, where there’s even a rat poem printed onscreen, for those apparently who need to take a good look in the mirror. This is radical guerrilla art from behind the Iron Curtain.
