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| Review: Iphigenia: It’s Greek Tragedy to Me |
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By Carl Bennett Copyright © 1978 by Cinemonkey (Charles H. Johnson and D.K. Holm). All Rights Reserved. Reproduced by permission. Online version Originally published in Cinemonkey 15, Volume 4, Number 4, Fall 1978, page 44. Note about this reproduction: Punctuation, spelling and typographical errors have been corrected. Breaks in words and paragraphs indicate the original publication’s page breaks for reference purposes. Page 44 |
Michael Cacoyannis, director of Electra (1962) and The Trojan Women (1971), has perhaps for the first time successfully brought the feel of ancient Greek theatre to the screen. Iphigenia (1977) is based on Euripedes’ Iphigenia at Aulis, a story of an incident just prior to the Trojan War. Helen has run off to Troy with Paris. Agamemnon, brother to Menaleus, Helen’s husband, will lead the Greek armies to the shores of Troy. But at the Bay of Aulis the armies wait for winds to carry their boats to Troy. This is where the film begins.
Cacoyannis establishes in just a few minutes of film exposition the restlessness of the Greek armies waiting on the Aulis shore. The men of the armies feel as though the lack of wind were the fault of Agamemnon. The men are tired and hungry, and aching to go into battle. To feed the men, Agamemnon directs soldiers to kill the sheep kept by the holy men who attend the temple of Diana, but the sacred hart is accidentally slain. An oracle is delivered to Agamemnon soon after by Calchas the priest of the temple of Diana. For the wind to blow, Agamemnon must offer up a sacrifice. The armies are jubilant, but what they do not know, and what Agamemnon, Menaleus, Odysseus and Calchas know a few moments after the announcement to the men is that Agamemnon must sacrifice the first-born daughter, Iphigenia. Agamemnon sends a message to Argos calling for Iphigenia under the pretense that she is traveling to Aulis to wed Achilles, a leader of one of the small armies participating in the Trojan siege. Clytemnestra, against her husband’s instructions, will escort Iphigenia to Aulis for the wedding. From this point in the film to the climax, the pacing, the unfolding of the tragedy is very taut. This quality accents the stunning performances of the principal actors and actresses and so effectively conveys the mood of Greek theatre. Clytemnestra finds out the truth shortly after arriving as does Iphigenia herself. Achilles is astounded by the treachery that has involved him in this tragedy, while Odysseus and Calchas threaten to inform the army of the nature of the oracle if Agamemnon does not follow through with what he has committed himself to. Once the basic structure has been laid (and this Cacoyannis does well, taking some intelligent liberties with the Euripedes play) the tragedy builds upon itself as a constant, irrevocable pace. One of the changes includes Cacoyannis’s de-emphasizing the importance of the Chorus of Players traditionally used to provide explanitory narrative before and after key scenes. Such a move is simply cinematic common sense. A straight-forward presentation of the play with the choral interludes would be foreign to the vital tone and pace of the film. The story itself can be said to have been very carefully unraveled from the Euripedes version and then placed in a very logical, strictly chronological framework so the story may better fit contemporary methods of (cinematic) story-telling. As the climax comes to its culmination, Iphigenia walks up the hillside steps to the altar where she is to be sacrificed, Agamemnon watching, with the army of men, helpless on the steps below. As she reaches the top, Agamemnon (and we the audience) becomes aware of the wind beginning to rise. Agamemnon bounds up the steps and as he reaches the altar we see only his face as he reacts to what we might assume is the sight of dead Iphigenia. Yet in the Euripedes play, on the sacrificial altar a miracles happens; Iphigenia has been transformed into a mountain hind (deer). Perhaps the goddess Diana has taken a hind from Agamemnon for the hart he took from her. Regardless of the interpretation of the individual viewer Cacoyannis has chosen to leave the ending somewhat open. We, not having the eyes of Agamemnon, can never quite know what happened to Iphigenia on that sacrificial altar. As I have already said, the acting in Iphigenia is first-rate, particularly Irene Papas as Clytemnestra and Tatiana Papamoskou as Iphigenia. The locales and the photography by George Arvanitis (especially the interior and night scenes) are tremendous moodsetters (and vaguely remind me of the look of the Italian Hercules films of the early sixties, though no qualitative comparison is intended). Cacoyannis and crew can be nothing but very proud of this handsome, powerful film. - - - - - Iphigenia (1977) • |