a movie reading “Cyrano” *
By Alexandre Freire Duarte
It’s true: I sing poorly, but wanting to make this film a musical, with actors with worse vocal abilities than mine, encouraged me. However, it is a pity that this “Cyrano”deconstructed with mastery, but reconstructed with less skill (where is the main character’s nose? Reduced only to the stature of the actor who plays it?), has to make us suffer so much with the poor interpretations of music that, after all and for some of the their lyrics would have a lot to say.
The intoxicating dialogue and vibrant interplay between the characters is interesting; the scenery and the costumes, despite being visually baroque, are simultaneously provocative, captivating and indicators of modern attitudes (something also helped by the camera dance, the choreographies pops and an energetic, impressionistic montage). Yea: “all this exists… all this is fado”in a creation that gives a sweet and sorrowful tone, touching and powerful to a story that exudes all this.
In a theological approach to this work, the question that immediately comes to the fore is: can love exist, even in the midst of an ecstatic and (literally) erotic relationship, when, at its base, is a sum of lies and half-asseds. lies? Even when it is seen that, lately, it is love itself and the fear of being ridiculed that motivates such mistakes, there is no doubt that loneliness is the only outcome that can come from it. A loneliness that, then, is the result of the fear of saying to, and living in the truth, leading to an emotional self-flagellation that projects on God the responsibility for something that, after all, is the mere fruit of a self-alienation.
Yea; the end of the plot seems to give a theological exit to this drama, but as beautiful as the words that express it may be (also with a nod to theological virtues), such words appear in a cold surrounding context (despite the cataract of light present in it) and filled with sad resignation. Perhaps one can believe that this would, after all, be the only possible end for such a tortured and blindly in love Cyrano. But if he is, it is only because he, even in the face of death, does not let go of himself; he doesn’t let go of his pride, notably that arising from having managed to make happy, in a tangentially self-sacrificial way, the one he loved.
And where does such anemic pride come from which represses the love that can do all that love can? The film is clear about this: although we sing that fame, wedges and appearances don’t count (because the essential thing is love that realizes freedom), everything around us screams the opposite.
Cyrano will have spent his life being mocked, humiliated and ignored for not having had anything that the mundane demanded and encouraged (and this is exactly what prevents his beloved from “seeing” him sooner). However, if, despite this, he had dared to really inhabit love and its corollaries (including the truth about himself and others), this would have been enough to arrive at a chordal wisdom that, otherwise, tangentially escaped him. . And his (great) pain comes precisely from this “tangent”, which also influenced the screenwriters, who, instead of valuing love meaning and knowledge, ended up in the anxious and affected search for emotional satisfaction.
(*USA, 2021; directed by Joe Wright, with Peter Dinklage; Haley Bennett; Kelvin Harrison Jr.)