Following the recommendation of several Romanian filmmakers who are members of the European Film Academy (EFA), I found myself with an invitation to attend the 36th European Film Awards on December 9 in Berlin, as part of an initiative by the prestigious institution to open their doors to critics from Eastern Europe.

Through the press office, I was given the opportunity to say whom I would like to interview – either online in the weeks leading up to the ceremony or in person in Berlin on the day of the gala – among the filmmakers honored with special awards, board members, and nominees.

First on my list was, of course, Béla Tarr, who was announced in October to receive the Honorary Award of the Academy President and Board. I got the confirmation for the interview and soon was scheduled for a Zoom meeting.

Although I requested at least three-quarters of an hour for the discussion, I was informed that I would only have 25 minutes, no more. The idea of having so little time for an interview in English with Béla Tarr, which would also be conducted online, was not very encouraging. But I told myself it was a rare chance (all the more so since I was still bothered by the fact that, in 2017, when he was invited to Les Films de Cannes à Bucarest, I missed him because I was away, even though I had revisited his films on that occasion and had written an essay about his cinema for the special brochure dedicated to him by the festival).

In the afternoon and at the appointed time, I was ready at my laptop with the Zoom link open and a few questions in front of me – which could only be generic, given the time and context constraints. I got a message from Claudia, the PR rep who facilitated my interview with Béla Tarr:

“The interview will be delayed by 20 minutes.”

“No problem. I’ll wait.”

After 15 minutes, I got another message: “Another cigarette break.”

To ease my nerves (after all, I was about to interview the legendary Béla Tarr online, under a timer), I started chatting with my colleagues from Films in Frame and with a friend on WhatsApp.

Suddenly, two Zoom windows open: one with Claudia, who makes the introductions and then closes her video, and another with Béla Tarr himself, dressed in a black jacket over what seemed to be a gray sweater, in a semi-dark room with a lamp lit in the background. I quickly hit the Record buttons on Zoom and the tape recorders (two, just to be sure) and hastily started asking the questions. I managed to stay within the time frame (even finishing 2-3 minutes earlier), and the director answered succinctly but compellingly and to the point, throwing a “shit” from time to time, a sign that even now, at almost 70 years old, he remains a non-conformist. However, the entire discussion, due to the setting, seemed almost surreal.

Béla Tarr spoke about what it takes to be brave as a filmmaker, what it means to be a radical director, various forms of censorship, his skeptical view on the belief that cinema can still change the world, and the not-so-optimistic situation of politics and cinema in his native Hungary.

For those less familiar with the name, it must be said that Béla Tarr, born in 1955, began his first amateur experiments in filmmaking at the age of 16. His feature debut came in 1979 with Family Nest, which won the Grand Prix at the Mannheim Film Festival. In 1982, The Prefab People received a special mention in Locarno. This was followed by the chamber drama Almanac of Fall (1984) and by Damnation (1988), which was nominated for the first European Film Awards.  

One of Tarr’s most well-known films is Sátántangó, a 450-minute adaptation of László Krasznahorkai’s novel of the same name, featured in the 1994 Berlinale’s Forum section where it won the Caligari Prize. Sátántangó quickly reached cult status, often referred to as one of the most important films of the 1990s. It perfectly exemplifies Béla Tarr’s unique style, his films following their own rhythm, taking time in long black and white shots.

Then followed Werckmeister Harmonies (2000) and The Man from London (2007), an adaptation of L’Homme de Londres by Georges Simenon, starring Miroslav Krobot and Tilda Swinton, which ran in competition in Cannes that year.

His 2011 feature film The Turin Horse received the Jury Grand Prix Silver Bear and FIPRESCI Award in Berlin and was nominated for the European Film Awards. After The Turin Horse, Béla Tarr announced that he would retire from filmmaking, stating that he had nothing new to say and would risk repeating himself.

He was named a Chevalier dans l’Ordre des Arts et Lettres and was honored with several remarkable national and international awards, honorary doctorates, and life achievement awards.  

Béla Tarr has supported the Sarajevo Film Festival (founded in 1995) since its inception. In 2013, he founded a film school, known as film.factory, in Sarajevo and moved there in 2016.

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In recent years, you have taught many young filmmakers. In interviews, you’ve stated that you tried to teach them first and foremost to be brave. What does it mean to be brave as a filmmaker, especially today?

We are in the 21st century and now you can do a movie with your fucking phone. You have to be free. No more rules! You have to find your own language. You have to find a way to express yourself. You have to be you. This is the most important issue. To be brave it means you have to refuse all expectations. And you have to tell what you really feel and what you really think. That’s all. These days you need to be brave, because the whole industry, the whole fucking shit, is against this. You have to have your personal work, your personal voice.

You said somewhere that you consider yourself a radical filmmaker (in fact, many people consider you so). What does that mean in your view?

I don’t know. These kinds of categories… When you are on the set and you are working with people you never think about this. You don’t identify yourself as a radical. If you just do it in your own way, maybe it can be radical. But it’s not my goal to be radical. Let’s say it’s just  happening. It’s just a side effect.

You also stated that your motivation behind making films was to defend the poor and human dignity. Do you believe that should be the purpose of cinema? To what extent is it still possible today?

Why not? This is a question of your personality and how you see the world. Sure, I have never made any frame about the people from the cover page of Vanity Fair or Forbes Magazine. I was suffering a lot and I was fucked up during communist time. But, I swear to God, we created this fucking shit that we live in. It’s our responsibility. We made this world. Even if I don’t make movies anymore, I have a feeling it’s really  horrible. To be a young filmmaker can be really hard nowadays.

The camera looks like a gun – you can use it in a good way or you can use it against the people

Do you think films get old?

What does it mean old? Sometimes, films get old in two weeks. Some movies are still young and fresh and still touching people. I think somehow I am lucky, because my movies are still working for people, mostly for young people. If they would say my movies are old, it would mean I am fucked up. But as long as young people are watching my movies, I just feel lucky and happy.

In this era of the Internet and social media, we are surrounded by images more than ever. Do you believe there is cinematic value, cinematic potential, in such images?

I don’t know. It’s very hard to say. It depends who is doing it. The camera looks like a gun – you can use it in a good way or you can use it against the people. It’s up to you. I do not want to summarize, because the internet is too big. I have not seen everything, of course. I don’t have any social media. Definitely I do not want to join this kind of stupid thing. If you want something from me, just let me know. I still believe in human relationships and personal contact. I don’t like this kind of bubble, that you are a part of something. But I am sure that I don’t have any imagination about what is on the internet. 

For several years, we’ve been regularly receiving bad news about the political situation in Hungary, but also regarding the state of cinema there, in the context of increasing interference and control by the government. I have personally spoken with some young Hungarian filmmakers who told me that their situation is very difficult and that they are even thinking of leaving the country. It is well known that you are a harsh critic of Prime Minister Viktor Orban. I would like to know your current opinion on what is happening in Hungary, especially regarding the state of cinema. Unfortunately – and I say this as a film critic – there’s been a lack of great Hungarian films for a few years now.

Unfortunately, it’s true. The problem is again with the people. You know, some people believe that if they are making compromises, if they are conformists and they are dealing with the system, [they will have advantages]. But if you make these kinds of compromises, you will fail, because on the screen you see very clearly the personality of the director, in every case. You have a lot of excuses for doing this shit – you need to pay the bills, you need to support your kids, etc. But these excuses are not working, because your movie will not be honest, and this will be clear. That’s why I am telling everybody not to do any compromise, because if they do it, there is a problem. I am saying all the time: please do your movie with your phone, edit it on your computer, and put it on the internet! You can be famous this way also, it doesn’t matter. I have never done this kind of compromise, and nothing happened to me. I am still alive. And nobody had the courage to say anything.    

But if you were still making films, do you think you would have been able to work in Hungary?

I am sure not in Hungary. I mean, of course I could shoot in Hungary, but I don’t believe that these government institutions would give me any single penny. But fortunately I do not want to do any movie, and even if I would want I could do a movie getting the money from abroad. But this is fiction, because I don’t do movies anymore.

Do you see any possible change in the near future in Hungary?

You never know. One thing is sure: it’s a totally divided country. The people in the countryside support this fucking Orban. The big cities are against him. But the opposition is divided. It’s unpredictable. You never know when the people are fed up. This can happen tomorrow or in ten years.

Although you can not change the world, if you change the film language a little bit it’s almost enough

During the communist period, you were affected by political censorship. After that, you stated that there is market censorship. What does that mean?

I have lived 40 years in a fake communism or fake socialism, because they were not real communists or socialists. They were just cheating the people and they were just feudalistic shit. I remember how this censorship was. But now somehow the situation is the same – these bourgeois guys are coming and they are watching your stuff just to protect the system, which is against human beings. I can not choose between these two shit. 

You once stated that cinema has the power to change the world. Do you still believe it to be true?

Yes, I believed it for a very long time. But now I see the cinema can not change the world. It’s really impossible to do this with a camera. Nevertheless, the cinematic language is a language. Although you can not change the world, if you change the film language a little bit it’s almost enough, because the film is part of the world. Even if it’s just a small part, you are changing something. 

Main photo: European Film Academy

Ionuț Mareș

Journalist and film critic. Curator for some film festivals in Romania. At "Films in Frame" publishes interviews with both young and established filmmakers.