Béla Tarr, Hungarian master filmmaker, was more than just an idol to me; he was my ideal mentor. Our meeting at the Nexus conference in Amsterdam a few years ago is etched vividly in my memory. Despite being weakened by his body, Béla's spirit still radiated an unyielding ferocity and rebelliousness that left me awestruck.
My journey into filmmaking began when I applied to assist on The Man from London, directed by none other than the maestro himself. It was 2004, and I had always been fascinated by film-making. Béla, being the perfectionist he was, took a chance on me, assigning me the task of finding a young actor for one of the lead roles – a role that eventually made it into the final cut.
Through my experiences with Béla, I gained an unparalleled understanding of filmmaking. It became clear to me that there's no substitute for learning from the masters. Working under Béla was like being initiated into the mysteries of film-making, something akin to how painters or artisans learned their craft over centuries.
Béla was all about pushing boundaries and breaking free from conventional norms. His quest for perfection led him to experiment with unconventional cinematography techniques – 10-minute take shots that unified space, characters, and time. It was a revelation to me, and one that continues to inspire filmmakers to this day.
One of the most significant lessons I learned from Béla was the importance of compromise in filmmaking. He walked this fine line between artistic integrity and practical considerations, often making sacrifices for the sake of his vision. Tragically, French producer Humbert Balsan took his own life during the tumultuous months of The Man from London's production – a heart-wrenching reminder that art is deeply intertwined with the world around us.
Even years later, I found myself drawn to Béla's work, particularly in the aftermath of his passing. His influence can be seen in my own film, Son of Saul, which tells the story of the Sonderkommandos of Auschwitz. The experience was both a great loss and a transformative one – it instilled in me a fierce determination to continue pushing boundaries and questioning conventions.
The final lesson I learned from Béla was about respecting tradition while forging my own path. He would often ask his collaborators, including me, if he should make a particular film – a question that belied the fact that he already knew the answer. It was as if he wanted to gauge our respect for his craft and ensure that we would carry on his legacy.
As I reflect on my time with Béla Tarr, I am reminded of the power of mentorship and the enduring impact one can have on another's life. Even in death, Béla continues to inspire me – a testament to the indomitable spirit of this Hungarian master filmmaker.
My journey into filmmaking began when I applied to assist on The Man from London, directed by none other than the maestro himself. It was 2004, and I had always been fascinated by film-making. Béla, being the perfectionist he was, took a chance on me, assigning me the task of finding a young actor for one of the lead roles – a role that eventually made it into the final cut.
Through my experiences with Béla, I gained an unparalleled understanding of filmmaking. It became clear to me that there's no substitute for learning from the masters. Working under Béla was like being initiated into the mysteries of film-making, something akin to how painters or artisans learned their craft over centuries.
Béla was all about pushing boundaries and breaking free from conventional norms. His quest for perfection led him to experiment with unconventional cinematography techniques – 10-minute take shots that unified space, characters, and time. It was a revelation to me, and one that continues to inspire filmmakers to this day.
One of the most significant lessons I learned from Béla was the importance of compromise in filmmaking. He walked this fine line between artistic integrity and practical considerations, often making sacrifices for the sake of his vision. Tragically, French producer Humbert Balsan took his own life during the tumultuous months of The Man from London's production – a heart-wrenching reminder that art is deeply intertwined with the world around us.
Even years later, I found myself drawn to Béla's work, particularly in the aftermath of his passing. His influence can be seen in my own film, Son of Saul, which tells the story of the Sonderkommandos of Auschwitz. The experience was both a great loss and a transformative one – it instilled in me a fierce determination to continue pushing boundaries and questioning conventions.
The final lesson I learned from Béla was about respecting tradition while forging my own path. He would often ask his collaborators, including me, if he should make a particular film – a question that belied the fact that he already knew the answer. It was as if he wanted to gauge our respect for his craft and ensure that we would carry on his legacy.
As I reflect on my time with Béla Tarr, I am reminded of the power of mentorship and the enduring impact one can have on another's life. Even in death, Béla continues to inspire me – a testament to the indomitable spirit of this Hungarian master filmmaker.