Spurious

When Tarr ceased to be a marginalised outsider and became one of the touchstones of the mainstream high-brow art-film culture, he decided it was time to stop.

For Tarr filmmaking has always been a  question of inner moral conviction rather than a profession.

For Tarr no film of his was 'just a film'. Each of them was a 'cause' to which everybody in the crew had to dedicate himself or herself entirely with inner conviction.

Each shot is a long sequence, a block of time, and it has to have an exact atmosphere, an opening and closing, and a dramaturgical curve of its own, depending only to a small extent on the next or previous shot. 

The basic theme of all Tarr's films is entrapment. The main problem Tarr resolves in different ways in different films is how to create the deceptive sense that the characters' situation is evolving toward some solution and, at the same time, to make one feel the hopelessness of this situation right from the beginning; the art of Béla Tarr is thus to make believe without hiding anything.

On The Turin Horse:

In no other Tarr film is the helplessness of the characters laid bare so powerfully as in this film[....] everyone in this film faces ultimate helplessness, and for the first time in Tarr's oeuvre, the characters do not make their own life or others' lives any harder. They are entirely at the mercy of exterior circumstances, and these circumstances have no mercy for them. No real human qualities are manifested by the characters of this film; be it good or bad, there is only base human existence reduced to its simplest physical and biological substance. That is why the last sentence uttered in the film is what the father says to his daughter; 'One must eat'.

... extensive representation of temps mort is more excessive in this film than in any other Tarr film. In fact, what is represented all through the story is empty time, since nothing is envisaged in the plot, nothing adds up, and the characters' acts lead nowhere. The story represents the time elapsed between two extraordinary events: Nietzsche's final mental breakdown, related to the beating of the horse, and the final apocalyptic blackout. But this is not the empty time within a process between two significant events representing important turns in an event series. The empty time in the story will not end. This is the process of time emptying out for good, which is represented on the concrete level by the events contributing to the disappearance or the fading out of the world. The last event, the fade out, therefore, is not an event. It is the end of all events, the end of time. The time of the plot takes place in a kind of 'day after', where the apocalyptic event in Nietzsche's mental breakdown followed by an undetermined natural catastrophe where the chances of survival are zero.

The most spectacular thing about the narrative is that there is no progressing element in it related to the characters. The characters have no intentions, goals, plans, or desires that could become the motivational basis of the narration. 

... since the last human connection is the manifestation of the final mental collapse, the apocalypse occurring in the story can be interpreted in a way as a result of nor as a metaphor for Nietzsche's mental breakdown, as if Nietzsche's collapse were a premonition, the first sign of the apocalypse. Or else, as if the latter were a consequence or the physical continuation of the former. 

On Damnation:

Causes and effects go round and round and everything is part of the same web of circumstances that takes it impossible for anyone to step outside of this infernal circularity. this conspiracy-like structure is what evokes the universality of this human condition, which is not specifically moral, social, historical or psychological. It is not geographically located either. It is also natural (no consolation in natural beauty), meterological (constant rain and mud) and physical (run-down environment): universal, in one word. 

... the only hope they have is to push back the inevitable bad ending a little. His only hope is to slow down the process leading to his downfall, or, in other words, slowness is his only hope. We can see now how how the only positive element of the story is intimately linked to slowness. Slowness postpones the tragedy, making the characters and the viewer believe that there remains some hope. On the other hand, slowness together with suspense raises a presentiment of something inevitable to come.

In Damnation, it is no longer 'Hungary of the 1970s or 1980s', but an unspecific degraded, deserted semi-urban, semi-rural landscape on the way to slow, gradually disintegration displayed in a careful visual composition, fitted with meticulously chosen objects and architectural elements, and lit in a strong chiaroscuro style. Yet the elements are recognisably East European, bearing the signs of a destroyed tradition and an unfinished modernisation blocked halfway to completion. 

András Bálint Kovács, The Cinema of Béla Tarr

Bereshit is not a constituent power that can establish a new world order. Genesis 1-11 teaches that the basis of everything is an abyss. Bereshit is not the ground on which things stand but the hand that pulls the rug out from under them. The first chapters of Genesis do not resemble a constitution of any sort. On the contrary, they convey a distinct sense of destitution. Consequently, an organized religion runs a considerable risk by acknowledging Bereshit as its groundless ground. Under Bereshit's spell, the religious apparatus that purports to bind together (religare) the human and the divine can easily fizzle out.

Unlike 'creation' in English, which has artistic and other connotations, the Hebrew word only applies to the creation of the world. After the conclusion of the seventh day, it is said that heaven and earth 'were created', in the passive voice (2:4). But there is no indication as to who should get the credit for this creative act. The only thing for certain in this verse is that God 'made' both heaven and earth [...]. But it never explicitly stated, either here or anywhere else in Genesis, that God was indeed the creator of the world.

If Adam means 'human', is Noah in some sense already post-human? To see oneself as a descendant of Noah [...] is above all to understand that the secure ground on which we appear to walk,  where we seem to breathe freely, is nothing more than the deck of an ark. It is also to realise that most creatures on board have no access to this exclusive space because they are kept in the hull, just as most people and virtually all animals living on earth today are still relegated to the margins of society, to a kind of social death.

Noah, like the baby Moses, is saved by an ark [teva], not a ship [oniya]. This is an important distinction, because the latter needs a captain to steer it in the right (or wrong) direction, while the former drifts passively hither and thither (7:18), being led by the wind, water, God or fate.

... Noah's passivity allows him to safeguard both his subjectivity and her potentiality. His strength lies in silently forfeiting his own will.

... Noah's name ... means relief or rest, comfort or consolation (5:29). A reliever is not to be confused with a redeemer.

The seventh day is declared holy not because it was when something magnificent was made, but because nothing was.  Hence the Hebrew word for seven (sheva) can also be read as satiation or saturation (sova), while the word for Saturday (shabat) is closely linked to the idea of going on strike (shavat). God's supreme and highest achievement is not the creation of humanity , but his own recreation.

... the Sabbath was instituted as a temporal temple to stop the linear flow of everyday life.

In the beginning was formless life. Instead of creating the universe, God finds himself in a position to give it some order. He does not bring it about ex nihilo, out of nothing, a world external to his divine being. Rather, he imagines ex anihilo, out of the abysmal and chaotic rubble with which he was entrusted, a cosmos, an organised and articulated form, mainly through a series of divisions, distinctions and definitions. This process, as described in the first chapter  of Genesis, is surprisingly akin to what contemporary biologists aptly call ontogenesis, the organism's development through cell division.

... although the Hebrew God encompasses or monopolizes the entirety of nature, he is not equivalent to it. Instead of being the life of the sun or the sea, he now functions as the life of the whole world: he is how the world is; the fact that it exists is beyond him. 

The anguished earth is [...] described as a devastated battlefield: 'unformed and void, with darkness over the surface of the deep' (1:2).

The simplistic assumption that God is beyond the world as if looking at it from a distance, stems from misunderstanding the idea that he is the life of the world. Life in this context has nothing to do with vitalism or animism. Life is not some nebulous force but simply the way the world is. 

Even God does not seem able to change and certainly not to remake the world in its entirety. The way it was established during the first week remains intact. Instead, God chooses to cultivate his own perfect-yet-limited garden and forsake the unmanageable wasteland that has spread all around.  The bitter truth that lies beyond the gate of Eden is set aside so he can focus on the fantastic truths that grow within.

Life is not a physical, psychological, or spiritual phenomenon that can be either gained or lost. It is more like a relation: something is the life of something else. For example, God is the life of the world, and the world is the life of humanity.

The prolonged entanglement of the human race with this world - what is retrospectively called the Anthropocene - is more profound, consequential, and ancient than any other loyalty or devotion. Being on earth takes precedence over other types of belonging or identity - familial, national, ideological, spiritual, cultural, geographical, historical - all of which easily obfuscate humanity's primary terrestial fidelity (something only the Gnostics dared to contest). This breach between human beings and the word is as old as their bond. Yet it appears that those who entered the garden of Genesis and left unharmed were also able to eat from the tree of life and live for the world.

According to Baruch Spinoza, eternity is 'existence itself', insofar as it follows from the definition of God. Now recall what happens to the God of Genesis when he is considered not as a character in a mythology, but as a concept in a theology: he becomes the life of the world. rather than indefinitely prolong an individual's existence, Genesis aspires to address humanity's true limitation, which has nothing to do with its short lifespan and everything to do with its strained relationship with the world. One can thus see why Spinoza thinks that death should be feared least of all things. to see things from the perspective of eternity is to be, above all, a being in the world. This world life is what the different characters that inhabit 1-11 before the advent of civilization epitomize.

A real state of exception is the exact opposite of a chaotic or anarchic situation.A state of law and order is always exceptional, even when it pretends to be the prevalent rule. The garden of Eden [...], along with Noah's Ark [...] are perfect examples of such exceptional zones. these are small pockets of calm surrounded by an overwhelmingly hopeless desolation. the rare life cultivated within is shielded from the majority of nature without. 

Humans retreat into a kingdom within a kingdom, where violence can be at least partially, locally, and temporarily suspended. as concrete as such safe spaces can be, they are not designed to spread and expand successfully across the world. A shining example tends to end up as oppressive darkness since its limited applicability is ignored. Survivors of shipwrecks search for lifeboats that over time become the new battleships. 

David Kishik, Book of Shem

He just loved to work. It was ingrained in his personality. He was happiest when he was working and I think that’s what made him so prolific. He was also smart and aware enough to see when he was on a roll. He made a lot of incredible albums in a very short amount of time – in just a few years. He knew he had to capture that 4-5 year span as he was really growing into his own as a master songwriter. I think he was afraid it’d go away as he’d seen with so many of his heroes; so he decided worked fast as he was on a clock. And to an extent that happened. His talent never disappeared, but I think there came a point where he had to work a little harder to expand his boundaries, to “get there”. That probably happens in every profession, and I think its a real challenge when musicians are faced with that.

Ben Swanson on Jason Molina

Imperious images and letters force us to read, while the pleading things of the world are begging our senses for meaning. the latter ask; the former command. Our senses give meaning to the world; our products already have meaning, which is flat. they are easier to perceive because they are less elaborate, similar to waste. Images are the waste of paintings; logos, the waste of writing; ads, the waste of vision; announcements, the residues of music. Forcing themselves on our perception, these low and facile signs clog up the landscape, which itself is more difficult, discreet, silent, and often dying because unseen by any saving perception.

Michel Serres, Malfeasance

Jim Jarmusch: The subject is not coffee and cigarettes — that’s just a pretext for showing the undramatic part of your day, when you take a break and use these drugs, or whatever. It’s a pretext for getting characters together to talk in the sort of throwaway period of their day.

iW: Why would viewers find that interesting?

Jarmusch: Well, I think our lives are made of little moments that are not necessarily dramatic, and for some odd reason I’m attracted to those moments. I made “Night on Earth,” which only takes place in taxi cabs, because I kept watching movies and where people, like, say, “Oh, I’ll be right over,” and you see them get out of the taxi, and I’m always thinking, “I wonder what that moment would be like.” The moment that’s not important to the plot. I made a whole movie about what could be taken out of movies.

iW: The interstices.

Jarmusch: Yes. One of my favorite directors is Yasujiro Ozu. On his gravestone, which I visited in Japan, was a single Chinese character that means, roughly, “the space between all things.” That’s what I’m attracted to.

Interview with Jim Jarmusch, Indie Wire