Conyac で依頼された翻訳結果を公開

Actually, debates over the intended meanings of this "Faust" have raged since it surprised observers by winning the Golden Lion at Venice in 2011, dividing cinephiles into camps of ardent admirers and dismissive detractors. To try bridging some of those opinions, it's perhaps useful to return to the dichotomy that underlies that initial scene and suggest that, while the film's soul (its meaning) is no doubt destined to remain frustratingly opaque, its body (Sokurov's style) contains various sorts of pleasures, fascination and even some meaning of its own.

Indeed, compared to many Sokurov films, this one has an enlivening paradoxicality: it's morbid but upbeat, grim yet rapturous. With its constant motion and elegant reframings, the camera gives the proceedings an almost balletic breathlessness, while painterly influences—chiefly Bosch and Brueghel—infuse the film's succession of ornate sets (suggesting 19th century Germany, though no epoch is specified) and anchor a muted but wondrously subtle palette of grays, greens and browns.