Twittering Soul, in Stereoscopic 3D

The science of both photography and medicine have advanced enormously since the 1880s. This film will make you grateful on both scores. It might feature the most striking use of 3D ever, yet it also incorporates Nineteenth Century stereoscopic photographic techniques. If you want to watch it, see it now, because it is only intended for theaters. However, viewers should understand Deimantas Narkevicius’s Twittering Soul is a very different kind of film, which is now showing at Anthology Film Archives.

Narkevicius very literally transports viewers back to the 1880s in Southern Lithuanian. It is an era defined by folklore, before the rise of mass media. Consequently, characters discuss witches and fairies as if they are obviously real, even though the viewers never see them.

Frankly, it is hard to embrace any of the figures as characters, per se. Due to his stereoscopic techniques, Narkevicius was technical unable to film close-up shots. However, his masterfully composed frames often look like museum dioramas. You truly feel like you could reach in and pick up a cast-member, as if they were figurines.

Arguably, the closest comp film would be Lech Majewski’s The Mill and the Cross, which translates the canvases of Pieter Bruegel into a film. Yet, Majewski still offered his cast greater opportunities for characterization (in fact, many viewers might have overlooked the excellent work of Michael York and Rutger Hauer in Majewski’s masterwork). Conversely, Twittering Soul is even more immersive—in the truest sense of the word. The 3D visions of hidden valleys and grottos vividly create a sense of depth that rivals full-fledged VR films.

Narkevicius also recreates the tactile sensations of nature, as if you were truly there. It is debatable how much drama viewers could take in, under such circumstance. In fact, there were even physical concerns for Narkevicius, who explained during the opening night Q&A, he deliberately kept the film relatively short (70-some minutes), because the stereoscopic process activates twice as many optical receptors, or something like that.

Nevertheless, engaged viewers get a fascinating look at a rural culture that predates mass media, but was starting to experience more social mobility through due to the rise of early capitalism. Yet, the folklore still maintains primacy, as in the stunning centerpiece scene, presumably based on the old superstitious practice of opening a window when someone is dying, so the soul can fly out. While causation is not completely clear, it seems like the tragedy was precipitated by a folk remedy that became infected, so the film will not necessarily turn the audience against modern progress.

Visually, Twittering Soul is a stunning example of how adventurous filmmakers can employ 3D, in a way like nothing that has come before. Godard’s fawning champions made much of a stereo-like scene in Goodbye to Language that presented different images for the right and left eyes, but they were drab, pedestrian images. In contrast, there is nothing prosaic about Narkevicius’s images. They might be pastoral, but never prosaic. This film is nothing like superhero 3D films. It is almost, but not quite non-narrative. However, it transports the audience to another time and place. Highly recommended for adventurous patrons, Twittering Soul screens through Thursday (10/31) at Anthology Film Archives.