Hukkle [2002] Gyorgy Palfi torrent

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Hukkle (2002)

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0289229/

Hukkle is a 2002 Hungarian film, which is translated as \'to hiccup\'. It\'s about the daily life of people in a random village which seems beautiful and harmless, but there is something mysterious going on. The story is based on the Angel Makers of Nagyrév.


Ferenc Bandi ... Csuklik bácsi
Józsefné Rácz ... Bába
József Forkas ... Rendõr
Ferenc Nagy ... Méhész
Ferencné Virág ... A méhész felesége
Mihályné Király ... Nagymama
Mihály Király ... Nagypapa
Eszter Ónodi ... Városi anya
Attila Kaszás ... Városi papa
Szimonetta Koncz ... Városi kislány
Gábor Nagy ... Városi kisfiú
Jánosné Gyõri ... Postás
Edit Nagy ... Pásztorlány
János F. Kovács ... Vízhordó fiú
Mihályné F. Kovács ... A vízhordó fiú anyja

Hukkle, the feature debut of Hungarian filmmaker Gyorgy Palfi, is described in a director\'s statement as a fiction-based documentary, a cryptic description if ever there was one, but accurate nonetheless.

A visually elegant, aurally rich, narratively confounding murder mystery, Hukkle (which means hiccup in Hungarian) takes place in a rural village somewhere in Palfi\'s native country, where farmers and seamstresses and their children go about their days in soft-spoken, often silent drudgery. Their collective life is intertwined with the natural world, whether in surrounding wheat fields, a patch of lilies of the valley, or the pigs and sheep and horses by which they make a living. But Palfi\'s camera also picks up the ephemeral moments of violence, the small deaths, that define the balance of nature: a fawn presumably crushed by an oncoming tractor, a bee swatted, an ant extinguished underfoot. Soon these little murders give way to big ones, as some of the villagers start to keel over dead.

There\'s not a word of dialogue in Hukkle, which Palfi has filmed as a series of slow, meditative, carefully composed shots. But the movie is anything but silent: The events that transpire in the film do so in a world buzzing with life and the sure rhythms of ceaseless human labor. Hypnotic, elliptical, often rapturously beautiful, the film is a testament to the much-maligned concept of art cinema, one that depends for its thrills on film\'s essentials as a visual and sonic medium. Stripped to such fundamentals, Hukkle is a deceptively complex piece of work, and Palfi isn\'t so much of a purist that he doesn\'t resort to the occasional time-lapse, digital trick or editing pun for effect.

But mostly Palfi sticks to old-fashioned celluloid and shot-by-shot filmmaking to thread viewers through his story, and slowly and methodically, the mystery of Hukkle is revealed. Sort of. There are more than a few ends left loose, including the precise role of the hiccuping man who opens and closes the action.

Palfi is as fascinated by the brutishness of rural life as he is by its lyricism: He gives equal narrative and visual weight to moments of repellent violence and ugliness and moments of pure poetry. (Viewers will surely want to debate over coffee whether a scene involving the suffering and death of a house cat was staged or real.)

For all the precision and care with which Hukkle was made, and for all its transcendentalist aspirations, the film is ultimately too self-regarding, too smug to be transcendent itself. There\'s something mean at its center, apart from its wickedly sarcastic premise, that reveals Palfi as a withholding, if gifted, artist. (If he doesn\'t allow his characters to relate to one another, what does that say about how he relates -- or doesn\'t relate -- to his own audience?)

Hukkle is a worthy experiment, a piece of bravura filmmaking of the old school, an engrossing narrative romp. But as the fruit of one man\'s moral imagination, it gives you the chills.