Thursday, March 4, 2010
Introduction
The form of the arch has endured thousands of years, from its first emergence in Roman antiquity to its modern-day usage in both architecture and the other arts. The arch has enjoyed such a widespread and lengthy presence on the stage of history due to its formal adaptability to changing circumstances and its amenability to re-appropriation by shifting audiences. In film, specifically, the arch has been used as a flexible thematic device; it has been used by various directors to symbolize transitions, to intensify moments of suspense, and to underscore the power of certain characters. We explore three films in which directors have utilized arches to increase the impact of their films: L'Avventura (Michelangelo Antonioni), Cleopatra (Joseph L. Mankiewicz) and The Arch of Triumph (Lewis Milestone). We argue that whether the arch is used as a blatant symbol of power (as in Cleopatra) or as a subtle reflection of characters' psychological transformations (as in L'Avventura) audiences inevitably register the presence of the arch in the frame; for this reason the arch retains its relevance in film and, more broadly, in contemporary culture.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
L'Avventura (1960)
opening : Anna enters
embarkment : arrival at the piazza
discovery+betrayal : Claudia flees the palace
transformation : Claudia is self-realized
Michelangelo Antonioni's L'Avventura is a subtle and complex film. Each frame of each scene is meticulously composed with artistic intention. Antonioni “holds his shot, all his shots, just that bit longer than would be strictly necessary for them to make their point (Nowell-Smith 199). Arches are used several times as thematic devices in the film, always as reinforcing accentuating moments of transition and transformation. It is appropriate for this discussion that the film opens in Rome, home to the first triumphal arches of antiquity. The arch holds an enduring place in the collective unconscious and is therefore a powerful thematic tool when utilized as backdrop in film.
The arch is used in L'Avventura to underscore both moments of personal transformation of particular characters and also to acknowledge the broader cultural upheaval of the time. When attached to specific characters, arches work both as literal portals and also as moments of transition from one psycho-emotional state to another, specifically from idealized innocence to self-realization and harsh reality. Culturally, they represents themes of tension and transition in Italy between old, traditional values and new, contemporary culture.
In a statement distributed at Cannes when L'Avventura was presented there, Antonioni states “..we make use of an aging morality, of outworn myths, of ancient conventions...Why do we respect such a morality? (Leprohon 91)” There is a tension in the opening scene between Anna and her father which reflects the tension between her father's traditional values and Anna's contemporary lifestyle. Her father mentions that Sandro will never marry her; Anna claims that until that moment she had not wanted him to. In the background we see a row of ugly mid-rise apartment buildings under construction juxtaposed with the family's traditional stone villa. This backdrop reinforces the tension between old and new Rome, while the arch through which Anna passes in the first moments of the film reinforces her own passage from her role as traditional daughter to that of contemporary lover.
In the very next scene Anna and Claudia, Anna's close friend, are driven to the piazza where they will be meeting up with Sandro. The car passes a row of old Roman porticoes and drives through a grand stone arch into the piazza. A group of three nuns in traditional habits walk across the foreground of the scene as the car pulls in and parks. The two young women then emerge from their sleek, modern convertible, a clear counterpoint to the previous image of the nuns. The ride to the meeting spot is perhaps a transitional time, while the passage through the arch marks the actual moment of embarkment on the whimsical journey.
Anna, Claudia and Sandro meet the other four friends and the group sets off on their adventure. They stop to swim and sunbathe alongside a deserted island off the coast of Sicily. Here, Anna mysteriously disappears, and after a short search by the entire group only Claudia and Sandro continue to look for her. They search towns along the east coast of Sicily while the others go back to their decadent lives of leisure. Anna is almost forgotten, however, as Claudia and Sandro embark on their own love affair. Claudia does not come from the privileged background of her social peers but rather from a sensible middle class upbringing from which she still holds ideas of right and wrong. Iis implied that she is disgusted by the casual infidelities of her friends and also wracked with guilt about her affair with Sandro. Gradually, however, she is seduced, both by Sandro and by the extravagant lifestyle of the wealthy elite who have accepted her into their ranks.
Toward the end of the
film, Claudia discovers Sandro with another woman. She flees the palace where they have all been partying, running out through the grand stone arch that marks the palace grounds. She has been betrayed and is emotionally devastated. It is her moment of loss of innocence, her departure from fantasy and arrival at reality, and her realization that she is now part of the world in which love is fickle and lovers unfaithful.
We recall that Anna entered the opening scene through an arch and now see Claudia entering the final scene through one. One woman has replaced the other. Pierre Leproham suggests that there is a “psychological substitution, going beyond the physical substitution of one woman for another..[which]..endows the plot with its full credibility (Leprohan 66).” Sandro follows Claudia through the same gateway arch, which based on his next actions might also be seen as arrival at self-awareness (an awareness and disgust at his own moral weakness). However, Gene Youngblood, who narrates a commentary of the film, argues that one character cannot appropriate another's metonymy, meaning that once an object is symbolically attached to one character it does not hold meaning for others.
The final scene finds Claudia and Sandro on a rooftop next to a crumbling church, overlooking the sea with islands in the distance. In this scene we witness Claudia's complete arrival at acceptance and self-realization. Throughout most of the scene, she is framed with a large arched opening behind her, which symbolizes her complete passage into self-awareness and acceptance of reality, as messy as it may be. We witness in her facial expressions the transition from feelings of shock, betrayal and sorrow to those of acceptance, strength and ultimately, pity for Sandro. At this moment in the film a critical shift in power also occurs, and the arched opening accompanies the shift. While Sandro had previously held the typically macho role in the relationship, he has become a sniveling weakling, too ashamed of himself to even ask forgiveness. Claudia, on the other hand, has found her strength and is now the one in control, both of the current moment and the future of their relationship. The arched opening therefore embodies feminine power, even perhaps a womb, for several critics assert that in this scene Claudia's relationship with Sandro shifts from one of lover to that of nurturer/mother. (As a side note, shots of Sandro in this scene are punctuated by a phallic tower standing in the distance behind him. Antonioni refers to the “malaise of eros” as another central theme of L'avventura, and in this scene we see the two main characters' emotional torment underscored by symbols of their respective sexuality.)
Antonioni demonstrates the subtle yet enduring power of the arch to intensify moments of transition and transformation in film, specifically in L'Avventura. The arch's power lies in its flexibility; in this case it alternately symbolizes intimately personal psycho-emotional shifts and also more global cultural and societal ones.
Cleopatra (1963)
Beyond Plot: The Arch as an Extracinematic Device
A great aura of overspending, personal drama, and hype surrounded the filming and release of the Cleopatra, but the film’s grandest scene, Cleopatra’s entry into Rome through a triumphal arch into the Roman forum, is notorious even now, almost 50 years later, because it is more than just a plot device. The arch and the spectacular scene it frames served as an extravagant marketing device for the starlet, the film and Hollywood in general.
As a plot device, this scene shows Cleopatra’s seductive power over Julius Caesar and Rome itself. Cleopatra arrives in Rome with an elaborate spectacle of exotic dancers and magicians all passing through the Arch of Constantine. No expense was spared in the filming of this scene, which is replete with racing chariots, archers, magicians, dancing girls, African dancers, and exotic animals, each performance more lavish than the last. Three hundred slaves rhythmically pull a massive Pharaonic float as crowds of senators, senators’ wives, and Roman citizens watch in awe. Cleopatra, along with her son, Caesarion, make their entrance perched grandly atop this float, clad in garments woven with gold. Cinematically, most of scene is shot straight on with the arch in full view. As Cleopatra’s float draws through the arch, the camera angle gets lower and the Pharaoh’s head almost overtakes the arch in the frame. This moment foreshadows Cleopatra’s intention to overtake the world by seducing Rome’s greatest leaders. In contrast, Caesar and Antony both have various returns to Rome in the film, but none of these are depicted with much pomp and circumstance. In the scene just before Cleopatra’s entry to Rome, we see Caesar returning to Rome through the same arch, but we see the scene from the side and can only just make out that he is even passing through this triumphal arch.
Cleopatra’s entry to Rome is also a thematic device to show feminine power. Arches are typically seen as masculine, symbolizing great military triumphs. In a way, however, the form of an arch is actually quite feminine. Arches are curved openings, in contrast to typically protruding masculine symbols. In this scene, Cleopatra is conquering Rome, but not with military triumph. She exhibits to all of Rome that she seduced Caesar with not only her feminine wiles but also her womb, bearing him his only son and heir. And she succeeds for Caesar is completely captivated by Caesarion, marveling at his composure throughout the grand spectacle.
While this scene obviously serves as a plot device, it also helped shape the cult of the celebrity around Elizabeth Taylor. Taylor’s costume for this scene alone cost sixty-five thousand dollars while the entire scene cost a full half million dollars! According to Maria Wyke,
"Star images, such as Taylor’s, had an important function in the economy of Hollywood in the 1950s and 1960s. The film star’s persona entered into extracinematic circulation, in studio publicity and promotion, newspapers and magazines, in advertisements, on radio and television talk shows, then continued into the films themselves and subsequent commentary on them" (Wyke 101)
To illustrate, Taylor’s very public affair with Richard Burton during the filming of Cleopatra caused a storm of negative publicity for the film and for the star herself. The Vatican openly criticized her mockery of marriage, a serious attack especially considering the film was being shot in Rome. In the film, Cleopatra’s entry to Rome is a gamble, a hugely lavish event in which Cleopatra hopes to gain Roman acceptance. But the gamble extended into real life, as public opinion of Taylor plunged. In the filming of the scene, however, Taylor was visibly relieved when the thousands of Roman extras on set applauded not only Cleopatra, but chanted “Liz! Liz!” as she emerged from the shadow of the arch (Wanger, Walter, and Hyams 148-9).
.jpg)
This scene also showcased Hollywood grandeur and power in the face of the ever-encroaching medium of television. Hollywood epics, throughout the 1950s, were generally “a huge many-faceted metaphor for Hollywood itself” (107), but this metaphor was taken to the extreme in Cleopatra. Details of the lavish Forum scene were leaked to the press months in advance, building up viewer anticipation as never before. Ultimately, these hugely expensive efforts were unsuccessful, leading 20th Century Fox into even deeper financial ruin. So, though the scene is wholly triumphant as a plot device, its legacy is somewhat tragic, as it discouraged filmmakers from investing in ancient epics. Some may say, however, that it encouraged filmmakers such as Fellini to take an alternative approach to antiquity and break away from Hollywood stereotypes (Solomon 116).
It is interest
ing to note the historical inaccuracy of the entire scene. The Arch of Constantine had yet to be built during the time frame of the story of Cleopatra (Solomon 50). In addition, triumphal processions were limited to military triumphs in Roman times, so Cleopatra’s actual entrance to Rome probably bears little comparison to its depiction in the film. History, however, is not the primary purpose of the scene.
A great aura of overspending, personal drama, and hype surrounded the filming and release of the Cleopatra, but the film’s grandest scene, Cleopatra’s entry into Rome through a triumphal arch into the Roman forum, is notorious even now, almost 50 years later, because it is more than just a plot device. The arch and the spectacular scene it frames served as an extravagant marketing device for the starlet, the film and Hollywood in general.As a plot device, this scene shows Cleopatra’s seductive power over Julius Caesar and Rome itself. Cleopatra arrives in Rome with an elaborate spectacle of exotic dancers and magicians all passing through the Arch of Constantine. No expense was spared in the filming of this scene, which is replete with racing chariots, archers, magicians, dancing girls, African dancers, and exotic animals, each performance more lavish than the last. Three hundred slaves rhythmically pull a massive Pharaonic float as crowds of senators, senators’ wives, and Roman citizens watch in awe. Cleopatra, along with her son, Caesarion, make their entrance perched grandly atop this float, clad in garments woven with gold. Cinematically, most of scene is shot straight on with the arch in full view. As Cleopatra’s float draws through the arch, the camera angle gets lower and the Pharaoh’s head almost overtakes the arch in the frame. This moment foreshadows Cleopatra’s intention to overtake the world by seducing Rome’s greatest leaders. In contrast, Caesar and Antony both have various returns to Rome in the film, but none of these are depicted with much pomp and circumstance. In the scene just before Cleopatra’s entry to Rome, we see Caesar returning to Rome through the same arch, but we see the scene from the side and can only just make out that he is even passing through this triumphal arch.
Cleopatra’s entry to Rome is also a thematic device to show feminine power. Arches are typically seen as masculine, symbolizing great military triumphs. In a way, however, the form of an arch is actually quite feminine. Arches are curved openings, in contrast to typically protruding masculine symbols. In this scene, Cleopatra is conquering Rome, but not with military triumph. She exhibits to all of Rome that she seduced Caesar with not only her feminine wiles but also her womb, bearing him his only son and heir. And she succeeds for Caesar is completely captivated by Caesarion, marveling at his composure throughout the grand spectacle.While this scene obviously serves as a plot device, it also helped shape the cult of the celebrity around Elizabeth Taylor. Taylor’s costume for this scene alone cost sixty-five thousand dollars while the entire scene cost a full half million dollars! According to Maria Wyke,
"Star images, such as Taylor’s, had an important function in the economy of Hollywood in the 1950s and 1960s. The film star’s persona entered into extracinematic circulation, in studio publicity and promotion, newspapers and magazines, in advertisements, on radio and television talk shows, then continued into the films themselves and subsequent commentary on them" (Wyke 101)To illustrate, Taylor’s very public affair with Richard Burton during the filming of Cleopatra caused a storm of negative publicity for the film and for the star herself. The Vatican openly criticized her mockery of marriage, a serious attack especially considering the film was being shot in Rome. In the film, Cleopatra’s entry to Rome is a gamble, a hugely lavish event in which Cleopatra hopes to gain Roman acceptance. But the gamble extended into real life, as public opinion of Taylor plunged. In the filming of the scene, however, Taylor was visibly relieved when the thousands of Roman extras on set applauded not only Cleopatra, but chanted “Liz! Liz!” as she emerged from the shadow of the arch (Wanger, Walter, and Hyams 148-9).
.jpg)
This scene also showcased Hollywood grandeur and power in the face of the ever-encroaching medium of television. Hollywood epics, throughout the 1950s, were generally “a huge many-faceted metaphor for Hollywood itself” (107), but this metaphor was taken to the extreme in Cleopatra. Details of the lavish Forum scene were leaked to the press months in advance, building up viewer anticipation as never before. Ultimately, these hugely expensive efforts were unsuccessful, leading 20th Century Fox into even deeper financial ruin. So, though the scene is wholly triumphant as a plot device, its legacy is somewhat tragic, as it discouraged filmmakers from investing in ancient epics. Some may say, however, that it encouraged filmmakers such as Fellini to take an alternative approach to antiquity and break away from Hollywood stereotypes (Solomon 116).It is interest
ing to note the historical inaccuracy of the entire scene. The Arch of Constantine had yet to be built during the time frame of the story of Cleopatra (Solomon 50). In addition, triumphal processions were limited to military triumphs in Roman times, so Cleopatra’s actual entrance to Rome probably bears little comparison to its depiction in the film. History, however, is not the primary purpose of the scene.
Arch of Triumph (1948)
Multiplicity of Roles
In this drama set in pre-WWII France, the Arc de Triomphe serves as a cinematic backdrop and spectator to the churning machinations of the refugees, civilians, and military officials vying for survival in its midst.
The story begins in 1938, one year before France joined the war against "The Axis of Evil". Our hero, Dr. Ravic, played by Charles Boyer, is a German refugee that befriends Joan Madou, a young woman cast adrift by her lover’s sudden death. Joan, played by Ingrid Bergman, is a romantic and pines after simpler times. While their romance unfolds Ravic succeeds in advancing the Allies' interests by tracking, tricking, and murdering the SS officer named Haake that had orchestrated his (and hundreds of others') torture in Germany. Tragically, Ravic's murderous intrigues so completely captivate his attention that he fails to resolve his relationship problems with Joan, who ultimately perishes at the hands of another suitor.
OPENING CREDITS : LOCATION, PATRIOTISM, SACRIFICE
Director Lewis Milestone opens the film with a dead-on view of the Arc de Triomphe. As the opening credits roll, the camera gazes up at the dramatically back-lit arch. Rays of light appear to emanate from the arch itself, heightening the power of the imagery. As the credits begin to wane, the camera fades to a slowly rotating aerial view of the arch. From this view, we learn our story’s precise location: Paris, France, which is further confirme d by the narrator who adds “…it is the winter of 1938, one year before the beginning of the second world war. When Paris was still an island of light in the darkness of Europe.”
The movie’s deeply patriotic undertone is further emphasized by a view of the eternal flame situated underneath the Arc de Triomphe at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. In the background, a bugle plays a short refrain from the French National anthem, and the director has primed the audien ce for a patriotic story of self-sacrifice.
Significantly, our first glimpse of Ravic is of him strolling past the arch, which is shown looming darkly behind him. The narrator informs us that Paris is home to many refugees of the war, and we can see their frustration in Ravic’s body language.
Alr
eady, within the movie’s first two minutes, the director has demonstrated the versatility of the arch as a thematic device. He has used the arch to transport us to Paris, connected the arch to the patriotism of the French (and Allied forces), and reminded us of the stoic suffering of the citizens of Europe (as personified by o ur protagonist, Ravic).
HUNTING HAAKE : PSYCHOLOGICAL PASSAGE
Living as a refugee has splintered Ravic’s life. Cut off from mainstream society, Ravic lives under the constant threat of deportation, and survives by practicing his profession (medicine) illegally. Having been caught and deported from France several times, Ravic knows it is only a matter of time before he is caught again and is all too aware of the dangers of illegal border crossing.
Living like an invisible man, without an identity and without hope, Ravic has developed an unhealthy obsession with the idea of finding and ‘neutralizing’ his old Nazi enemy, Haake.
But then he met Joan. She is young, idealistic, willful, and needy. Before Joan, Ravic’s obsession with Haake had been nearly all-encompassing; as his romance with Joan intensifies Ravic experiences a change of heart and psychological state. Again, the arch is used to mark a key moment in the film.
The scene begins with Ravic and Joan enjoying a late dinner at a Parisian café. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Haake appears. Ravic is in an instant panic; Haake has not seen him. It is the opportunity that Ravic has been hoping for. Joan, completely unaware of Ravic’s murderous obsession is confused and ala rmed at Ravic’s odd behavior. Unmoved by Joan’s pleas to be taken in his confidence, Ravic sends Joan home and begins roaming the streets in a near frenetic state, stalking his torturer, armed with a gun in his pocket (00:51:00).
But as the night wears on, Ravic’s mood begins to change. Exhausted and despondent, he passes by the arch and soon finds himself outside of Joan’s hotel. The clerk tells him that Joan is insisting on keeping the lights on for fear of the dark. And then it happens; the blood-lust that had clouded his mind lifts, his love for Joan has brought him back to himself. He dashes up to her room and embraces her. With Joan in his life, Ravic has found a reason to dream of better days. The arch symbolically marks Ravic’s passage from a man focused on the past to a man hoping for a future.
DRIVING PAST THE ARCH : INTENSIFIER, HISTORIC REFERENCE
However their happiness is short lived. As feared, Ravic is caught by the police and deported again. After three months without any communication from Ravic, Joan moves on and becomes romantically involved with another man. When Ravic returns and learns of Joan’s infidelity he is heartbroken and soon returns to his old intrigues.
On a chance encounter, Haake identifies Ravic as a fellow German and attempts to befriend him. Haake mentions that he will be returning to Germany soon. Seeing his opportunity, Ravic masks his hatred and invites Haake out for a night on the town. As they drive past the Arc de Triomphe Haake says, "I will not see Paris again, until I through this Arch of Triumph … march!"; in his inebriated state, Haake does not notice Ravic's wince. Haake believes that Germany will triumph over the Allies (and mark their victory over France with a march through the Arc de Triomphe).
Haake’s outburst spurs Ravic on his murderous path. Ravic’s identity and patriotism are so entwined with the arch, that Haake’s vision intensifies his hatred of Haake and cements his resolve. From this moment on, Ravic will do whatever he has to do to ensure Haake will never march through that arch. Cinematically, the arch succeeds in serving multiple functions; it is a stage prop, a scene intensifier, and a call to patriotism and self-sacrifice.
END CREDITS : STATELY PATRIOTISM
Ravic succeeds in killing Haake, but his blood-haze renders him incapable of aiding the woman he loves. Joan soon dies at the hands of another lover. Released only 3 years after the end of WWII, The Arch of Triumph reflect’s the deep French (and American) patriotism that pervaded those times. Thus Joan’s death is a tragic reminder of the sacrifices so recently endured by the audience.
At the end of the movie, Ravic again encounters the police. He has the opportunity to turn and run, but instead he gives himself up, presumably to be shipped to the nearest concentration camp. As he advances towards the front of the line, the shadow of a chain-linked fence is cast on his face. We are reminded of those haunting images of hollowed out men, penned behind fences of concentration camps.
However Ravic’s attitude is that of a strong and proud man, in command of his own destiny. As we bid a fond adieu to Ravic, France's national anthem begins to play and we are treated to one last look at the Arc de Triomphe. It is gloriously back-lit and as proud and grand as our hero.
In this drama set in pre-WWII France, the Arc de Triomphe serves as a cinematic backdrop and spectator to the churning machinations of the refugees, civilians, and military officials vying for survival in its midst.
The story begins in 1938, one year before France joined the war against "The Axis of Evil". Our hero, Dr. Ravic, played by Charles Boyer, is a German refugee that befriends Joan Madou, a young woman cast adrift by her lover’s sudden death. Joan, played by Ingrid Bergman, is a romantic and pines after simpler times. While their romance unfolds Ravic succeeds in advancing the Allies' interests by tracking, tricking, and murdering the SS officer named Haake that had orchestrated his (and hundreds of others') torture in Germany. Tragically, Ravic's murderous intrigues so completely captivate his attention that he fails to resolve his relationship problems with Joan, who ultimately perishes at the hands of another suitor.
OPENING CREDITS : LOCATION, PATRIOTISM, SACRIFICE
Director Lewis Milestone opens the film with a dead-on view of the Arc de Triomphe. As the opening credits roll, the camera gazes up at the dramatically back-lit arch. Rays of light appear to emanate from the arch itself, heightening the power of the imagery. As the credits begin to wane, the camera fades to a slowly rotating aerial view of the arch. From this view, we learn our story’s precise location: Paris, France, which is further confirme d by the narrator who adds “…it is the winter of 1938, one year before the beginning of the second world war. When Paris was still an island of light in the darkness of Europe.”
The movie’s deeply patriotic undertone is further emphasized by a view of the eternal flame situated underneath the Arc de Triomphe at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. In the background, a bugle plays a short refrain from the French National anthem, and the director has primed the audien ce for a patriotic story of self-sacrifice.Significantly, our first glimpse of Ravic is of him strolling past the arch, which is shown looming darkly behind him. The narrator informs us that Paris is home to many refugees of the war, and we can see their frustration in Ravic’s body language.
Alr
eady, within the movie’s first two minutes, the director has demonstrated the versatility of the arch as a thematic device. He has used the arch to transport us to Paris, connected the arch to the patriotism of the French (and Allied forces), and reminded us of the stoic suffering of the citizens of Europe (as personified by o ur protagonist, Ravic).HUNTING HAAKE : PSYCHOLOGICAL PASSAGE
Living as a refugee has splintered Ravic’s life. Cut off from mainstream society, Ravic lives under the constant threat of deportation, and survives by practicing his profession (medicine) illegally. Having been caught and deported from France several times, Ravic knows it is only a matter of time before he is caught again and is all too aware of the dangers of illegal border crossing.
Living like an invisible man, without an identity and without hope, Ravic has developed an unhealthy obsession with the idea of finding and ‘neutralizing’ his old Nazi enemy, Haake.
But then he met Joan. She is young, idealistic, willful, and needy. Before Joan, Ravic’s obsession with Haake had been nearly all-encompassing; as his romance with Joan intensifies Ravic experiences a change of heart and psychological state. Again, the arch is used to mark a key moment in the film.
The scene begins with Ravic and Joan enjoying a late dinner at a Parisian café. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Haake appears. Ravic is in an instant panic; Haake has not seen him. It is the opportunity that Ravic has been hoping for. Joan, completely unaware of Ravic’s murderous obsession is confused and ala rmed at Ravic’s odd behavior. Unmoved by Joan’s pleas to be taken in his confidence, Ravic sends Joan home and begins roaming the streets in a near frenetic state, stalking his torturer, armed with a gun in his pocket (00:51:00).
But as the night wears on, Ravic’s mood begins to change. Exhausted and despondent, he passes by the arch and soon finds himself outside of Joan’s hotel. The clerk tells him that Joan is insisting on keeping the lights on for fear of the dark. And then it happens; the blood-lust that had clouded his mind lifts, his love for Joan has brought him back to himself. He dashes up to her room and embraces her. With Joan in his life, Ravic has found a reason to dream of better days. The arch symbolically marks Ravic’s passage from a man focused on the past to a man hoping for a future.
DRIVING PAST THE ARCH : INTENSIFIER, HISTORIC REFERENCE
However their happiness is short lived. As feared, Ravic is caught by the police and deported again. After three months without any communication from Ravic, Joan moves on and becomes romantically involved with another man. When Ravic returns and learns of Joan’s infidelity he is heartbroken and soon returns to his old intrigues.
On a chance encounter, Haake identifies Ravic as a fellow German and attempts to befriend him. Haake mentions that he will be returning to Germany soon. Seeing his opportunity, Ravic masks his hatred and invites Haake out for a night on the town. As they drive past the Arc de Triomphe Haake says, "I will not see Paris again, until I through this Arch of Triumph … march!"; in his inebriated state, Haake does not notice Ravic's wince. Haake believes that Germany will triumph over the Allies (and mark their victory over France with a march through the Arc de Triomphe).
Haake’s outburst spurs Ravic on his murderous path. Ravic’s identity and patriotism are so entwined with the arch, that Haake’s vision intensifies his hatred of Haake and cements his resolve. From this moment on, Ravic will do whatever he has to do to ensure Haake will never march through that arch. Cinematically, the arch succeeds in serving multiple functions; it is a stage prop, a scene intensifier, and a call to patriotism and self-sacrifice.
END CREDITS : STATELY PATRIOTISM
Ravic succeeds in killing Haake, but his blood-haze renders him incapable of aiding the woman he loves. Joan soon dies at the hands of another lover. Released only 3 years after the end of WWII, The Arch of Triumph reflect’s the deep French (and American) patriotism that pervaded those times. Thus Joan’s death is a tragic reminder of the sacrifices so recently endured by the audience.
At the end of the movie, Ravic again encounters the police. He has the opportunity to turn and run, but instead he gives himself up, presumably to be shipped to the nearest concentration camp. As he advances towards the front of the line, the shadow of a chain-linked fence is cast on his face. We are reminded of those haunting images of hollowed out men, penned behind fences of concentration camps.
However Ravic’s attitude is that of a strong and proud man, in command of his own destiny. As we bid a fond adieu to Ravic, France's national anthem begins to play and we are treated to one last look at the Arc de Triomphe. It is gloriously back-lit and as proud and grand as our hero.
Bibliography
Antonioni, Michelangelo, director and screenwriter. L'Avventura. With Monica Vitti, Lea Massari and Gabriele Ferzetti, A Cino del Duca Co-Production (Amato Pennasilico): Produzioni Cinematografiche Europee (Rome) and Societé Cinématographique Lyre (Paris), 1960.
Arrowsmith, William. Antonioni: The Poet of Images. New York and Oxoford: Oxford University Press, 1995.
Chatman, Seymore and Guido Fink (Eds). L'avventura: Michelangelo Antonioni, director. New Brunswick and London: Rutgers University Press, 1989.
Leprohon, Pierre. Michelangelo Antonioni: An Introduction. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1963.
Nowell-Smith, Geoffery. L'Avventura. London: British Film Institute Publishing, 1997.
Wanger, Walter, and Hyams, Joe. My Life With Cleopatra. London: Transworld Publishers, 1963.
Wyke, M. Projecting the Past: Ancient Rome, Cinema, and History, London: Routledge, 1997.
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