In this 1895 short film by Lumière we see a group of people having a fun time at the beach. Well, we don't really see them sunbathing or swimming or playing aquatic sports, but they're just jumping into the sea, getting back out and getting in line again for the next jump.
By lil' I mean not too many characters, so the few shown kindled a spark in the viewer to the warm and sensitive nature of the ones shewed. The background kept harking back to a grey and gloomy setting while in its stead we are back in the present and things look colorful and teeming with delicious flavor.
At this year's Sundance, I saw Eduardo Arnal's 'The Sea.' I was obviously going in not expecting anything at all with a completely free and open mind, but in fact, I was most impressed.
It's pleasant and rather nostalgic to watch this simple, but lively, footage of a group of swimmers as they dive and splash in the sea. It almost feels as if you are at the seashore, and it also can bring to mind one's own memories of swimming as a youth.
The program booklet for the 1963 New York Film Festival (first one ever) shows that "Il mare" was scheduled for one screening on September 17 at 6:30. The blurb made reference to the Venice Film Festival showing where the movie had been "greeted by one of those sessions of prolonged booing, hissing, and cat-calls that, at festivals, generally herald a masterpiece.
The Sea is comprised of three different threads, each thread containing respected British actors. In the modern day we have art historian Max Morden (Ciarin Hinds), a gloomy middle-aged Irishman who is predictably an alcoholic widower.
Following the death of his wife, Max Morden (Ciarán Hinds) returns to his childhood seaside world. He stays with Miss Vavasour (Charlotte Rampling) from his past and a trauma from childhood comes rushing back.
Back in the days of early cinema many filmmakers would film a choppy sea in order to show audiences how effective a motion picture could be. Audiences, according to some, would freak out at seeing the waves splashing toward them, thinking they'd be soaked.
