A few weeks ago, the Curtocircuito Film Festival in Santiago de Compostela took place. In this venue, French filmmaker F.J. Ossang participated with a retrospective of his work. From that stay we share his answers to this Proust test.
Por José Sarmiento Hinojosa
Esta edición de Curtorcuíto contempló una retrospectiva de la obra de F.J. Ossang, desde La dernière enigme hasta Docteur Chance, lo que permitió ver en panorama el universo pleno de film noir de este cineasta francés. El dicho manda “no hay hombre que sea una isla”, pero Ossang podría fácilmente ser un archipiélago él solo: poeta, músico, cineasta y actor. Su capacidad expresiva ha trascendido más allá de las líneas difusas del género y la disciplina, logrando una articulación magnífica que proyecta la identidad de su arte: un universo noir, punk post apocalíptico. Una clasificación que paradójicamente, se resiste a ser clasificada.
By José Sarmiento Hinojosa
Always punk, always noir, F.J. Ossang’s post-apocalypse has no survivors. Everyone’s a victim of other people’s bullets, of their own bullets, of the condemnation of their past. 9 Doigts makes a perfect “black triptych of the apocalypse” with Treasure of the Bitch Islands (1990) and Dharma Guns (2010), both masterpieces of industrial atmospheres, where nuclear waste is a representation of the tragic ambitions of men.
By José Sarmiento Hinojosa
The saying goes “no man is an island” but FJ Ossang could be easily an archipelago on itself: Poet, musician, filmmaker, and actor; the expressive capacity of Ossang has transcended beyond the blurry lines of genres and disciplines, not digressing in each one of his attempts, but achieving a magnificent articulation that projects the identity of his art: a post-apocalyptic sci-fi punk noir universe, a classification that, paradoxically, defies any classification.
Interview by Michèle Collery, Mina Blumenfield and Mónica Delgado
Only rockers love poetry and literature – sometimes you wonder! We speak about rock and roll, I told him that I want to make a film of the classic punk age, haunted by Arthur Craven, the boxer, who traumatized Breton, who also was Oscar Wilde’s nephews . And it all melt between The Clash, the Sex Pistols, Vince Taylor, Arthur Cravan: it all enchanted Strummer. We had drank champagne in a pizzeria and I don’t know what and then he said “Now, we go to the pub.” So here we are, ordered in speed, the producer drank vodka on the rocks, I was gin and tonic, 3 or 4, I don’t remember what he took -we had to ordered fast because they didn’t served after that – thus, we each had our 3 or 4 glasses, we play darts and he says “Ok Ossang, I’ll do your movie!”
Director: Mónica Delgado Ch.
ISSN 2311-7451
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