There are two very special films in this year’s New York Film Festival (NYFF) slate that, coincidentally, center around essential figures in the classical music field. One of the two is more recognizable than the other. Yet both deserve their flowers due to the powerful and touching pieces of work they have provided to the world. They have blessed our ears with sonically and uniquely structured pieces. The first one is brought to us by acclaimed Chinese documentary filmmaker Wang Bing titled “Man in Black“ – his second film playing at the festival. Playing in the Currents section alongside short films by Jean-Luc Godard and Pedro Costa, this project looks at the life of one of China’s most important modern classical composers, Wang Xilin.
The second one is a touching performance, the final bow by Ryuichi Sakamoto before he sadly passed away earlier this year. Playing in the Spotlight section, Neo Sora brings us “Ryuichi Sakamoto | Opus“. Both films showcase each composer’s brilliance and individuality in different ways. While the former does so through a reflection of his past, the latter revisits specific pieces that made his name in a personal and close conversation through the keys that made us fall in love with his art. They might not be the films that immediately catch the audience’s attention in a stacked slate. But these two documentaries will enrich those who bask in them with sparks of hope, melancholy, and resplendency coming from their opus.
Man in Black (Dir. Wang Bing)
A scene in Man in Black (Photo: New York Film Festival 2023).
Wang Xilin is considered one of the most significant composers from China because of his expressive and dramatic musical language. But he’s also known for his subversive stands and acts in politics. The 85-year-old maestro has his fingerprints all over the classical music scene in his ten symphonies, numerous concertos, and film scores. He’s now the subject of the second of Wang Bing’s documentaries playing at this year’s New York Film Festival, titled “Man in Black“. Its title is in contrast with a song he sings and the reason why orchestra players wear black. The orchestra does such to make the audience pay attention to the music, not them. Instead, we see Wang Xilin wearing nothing. He’s wandering through the famous Paris Bouffes du Nord theater’s halls naked, clocked by the shadows of each corridor or corner.
He is a spirit lingering around the shadows, revisiting and facing once again his past. Wang descends from the theater balcony onto the stage, where he poses for the camera. Legendary cinematographer Caroline Champetier (known for her work with Leos Carax and Chantal Akerman) gives us an array of camera compositions as the maestro takes a position. Sometimes, she’s up close and personal. Champetier gives him breathing space on other occasions so he can blend with the setting. These first few images and postures remind you of 20th-century English portraitist paintings, similar to British painter Lucian Freud’s work, notably his series of self-portraits and ‘Last Portrait’ (1976-1977). With each pose, you feel a different emotion coming from his facial muscles and body, reflecting the many aspects of what got him to that point in life.
After the poses, he begins recounting his experiences with communism in China. Wang says that it has become cruel and merciless. His many years of dealing with such has made him aware of the changes. And it is devastating to hear him recall those moments throughout the documentary. He didn’t let those changes become the primary influence for his work, as he believed that musical technique was the most crucial part of becoming an artist, no matter the way of expression. Of course, that will raise a lengthy discussion of how art, both back then and now, is handled amidst each diplomacy. But Wang focuses on what he endured and saw with his own eyes – torture, beatings, and entrapment. This is where those who don’t know much about the subject of this documentary will begin to understand his work slowly.
Wang mentions that some of the pieces we have heard through his symphonies and concertos are based on the past’s horrors. They continue to haunt him, occasionally leaving him in tears throughout the short one-hour runtime. The poses transition into short clips of him performing some of his pieces, which later go to conversations and interviews. He discusses the bliss and cruelty of life, death, and time. “Man in Black“ is often an existential and artistic experience, where repetition is key in the way of an art installment, yet filled with the dynamic sensation of cinema. This documentary may not be at the top of Wang Bing’s oeuvre. But it is an exciting departure from his work. He lets stillness, remembrance, and pang be the driving engines. The lens follows the maestro, as each composition traverses through your body and the words stick in your soul.
Grade: B+
Ryuichi Sakamoto | Opus (Dir. Neo Sora)
A scene in Ryuichi Sakamoto | Opus (Photo: New York Film Festival 2023).
Plenty of people were very saddened and mourned the death of Ryuichi Sakamoto in March this year. There were reports about his illness, but it surprised us all. A strange feeling happens when an artist you admire or listen to a lot passes away. The songs or records don’t feel the same anymore, they encapsulate a haunting feeling. The artist’s presence is right there with you, reminding the listener about the memories they had with their discography. So, when Sakamoto passed away, I went back and listened to some of his pieces. A somber and gloomy sensation accompanied that session. His beautiful compositions became haunting. There’s a small dash of hopefulness that staggered each piano key, string or echo that came across his arrangements.
Just by reading or saying the title of “Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence”, the central theme starts to play in your head. Everyone will remember him forever. His son, director and artist Neo Sora, knows that he and his father have constructed a touching and personal concert documentary titled “Ryuichi Sakamoto | Opus“ about the set of compositions by a particular composer ordered by the publication date. It is just like David Bowie’s ‘Blackstar’ and Leonard Cohen’s ‘You Want It Darker’. Sakamoto gives us something special for his unfortunate departure. Alongside his kin, Sakamoto gives us one last performance that contains the pieces that made his name and the ones we hold dear – one last piano session. It’s a tribute and a goodbye to the Japanese composer.
Sakamoto performs twenty pieces across his repertoire of music transcending time, from his last album ‘12’ (released in January of this year) to his original scores for “Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence” and “The Last Emperor”. The camera basks in awe of this genius. It captures the smooth motion of his hands as he plays the piano keys delicately. Cinematographer Bill Kirstein’s eye and camera capture the sensation of being there in person for this last performance. The sensation of being serenaded is ever-present. You feel that he’s right beside you. There’s a moment in the film where he asks for a break.
“I’m pushing myself. This is tough.”, he states to the people in attendance. In the way it is structured and stylistically maneuvered, the concert doc reminded me of Andrew Dominik’s documentary of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, “One More Time with Feeling” (which I believe is a masterpiece of a project). These projects center around influential and poetic musical figures. Although they cross different genres throughout their careers, carry melancholy in their daily lives. While Sakamoto fights against his illness, Cave tries to overcome the death of his son. This is the reason why the record is recorded in the aforementioned film is titled ‘Skeleton Tree’. There’s a clear focus on each piece’s structure. He ensures that every emotional beat and strum is felt through the screen. The black-and-white cinematography allows some shadowplay to create a dark atmosphere to match the tracks.
Unlike the Dominik documentary, “Opus” solely focuses on this final performance; no interviews or side segments accompany it. (If you want to see a brilliant documentary on him, see “Ryuichi Sakamoto: Coda”.) In a more tragic viewpoint, just like Bowie and Cohen, Sakamoto knew that time was simply running out. So, he needed to think about his coda – the final piece of work he would leave to the world. It felt like the three of them knew that with these final projects, both visual and musical, they were playing for their funeral. And even then, you see how they used those pieces as a reflection method to face the next stage.
You are overcome with emotion as one piece ends and the other follows. We just experienced a magnificent performance. It is the concluding recital of a man who knows that the curtains are closing sooner rather than later. He’s holding back the tears during his last piece. This gives “Ryuichi Sakamoto | Opus” another emotional layer. Neo Sora crafts something that holds his father’s legacy in a new light – one that will make new listeners bask in his gift and the others who loved his work rise and give him one last round of applause.
Rest in peace, Maestro.
Grade: A
“Man in Black” and “Ryuichi Sakamoto | Opus” are currently playing at the New York Film Festival. The festival goes from September 29th – October 15th. Join us for continual coverage.
