Eternity and a Day

Upon a friend's recommendation, I rented Eternity and a Day, a 1998 film by Theo Angelopoulos. The film, which is in Greek, with English subtitles deals mainly with the philosophical theme of time and aging, as the name suggests.

Alexander, a reclusive writer, who is nearing his end, is troubled by his past, present, and future and throughout the film, the time spaces are presented both as seperate entities and as fluid simultaneous happenings, as we journey with Alexander through his memories and current state of mind.

We find that after the death of his wife, Anna, Alexander gives up writing to invoke on the the romantic undertaking of finishing an old 19th century poem. The story of the late poet is an interesting one in itself, as he was of Greek descent and left for Italy as a young child losing his native tongue. The poet returns to Greece during the revolution and buys words to regain his language and be the voice of a liberalized Greece. For the lack of language, he leaves the poem unfinished.

Alexander most likely takes up the task of finishing the poem to quench his unrest and his own shortfallings. Along the way, he befriends a young refugee from Albania, a child to whom he becomes increasingly attached. The partnership, which joins youth with age, is one that is endearing, and we watch what innocence and experience can lend one another. Exilism is common recurring theme within the film, and strangers oft make significant appearances.

The relationship Alexander has with the child along with a journey through his memories, sheds light on life, and he realizes that what he is searching for has perhaps been there all along, right within the poem, and that is "life is sweet, and..." simply "life is sweet."

The film is delightfully lulling, in imagery and in message. At times the characters are theatrical, with exaggerated expressions and movement, and at times very real, which is much like we treat some themes in life, in drama and in diffidence. Colors throughout the film play significantly with emotions. In moments of pain and seriousness, we find a wintry eeriness and greys. In stark contrast, in times of happiness and contentment there are dull, still yellows and blues and recurrent whites as in a faded old photograph that provokes nostalgia.

The film is beautiful and touching with a positively infecting stillness as it answers the question, "How long does tomorrow last?"