Caught In The Middle

This is the first article in a new series in which I explore my favourite examples from Hungarian cinema. I have chosen ten films from my collection but like all such lists, it is harder to decide what to leave out than which films to include. There are just so many fine Hungarian films to choose from. So I had to decide on some criteria to select the top 10. First of all, and this may sound obvious, but I chose the films for this series that are personal favourites of mine and are not necessarily the best 10 Hungarian films of all time. There are way more Hungarian films than I could possibly ever watch so I am not really qualified to judge which are the best of the entire history of Hungarian cinema. Still, I like to think that my favourites are quality film and that some of the ten would make a list of the best.

Secondly, I limited myself to one film from a particular director. For example directors such as István Szabó, Miklós Janscó, Márta Mézsáros or Béla Tarr all have a large body of films of which I have enjoyed many examples. I have my favourite directors and it would be possible to include 4 or 5 films from any of these directors. So in order to give the list variety there is only one from each director. No duplicates allowed.

All of the films in my list are commercially available and all have English sub-titles. This again narrows the list somewhat as there are without question masterpieces of Hungarian cinema that are simply not available to non-Hungarian speakers.

Lastly, and yet again I am perhaps stating the obvious, all films were filmed in Hungary in the Hungarian language. However this does exclude some films made by directors such as Szabó and Tarr that were made as international productions and not necessarily in Hungarian. Such films as Mephisto and The Man From London, fall into this category.

The films presented in this series are not in any particular order. While some are special favourites and therefore may rank higher, the prospect of assigning a rank to each of the top ten seemed rather pointless in the end. They are all my favourites, each with their own special qualities and their own special story. It is those aspects of the films that I wish to present in these articles.

The first film I have chosen to write about is Merry-Go-Round (Körhinta), directed by Zoltán Fábri and released in 1956. Set in the rural Hungary in the early 1950’s, the film tells the story two young lovers, Mari, played by Mari Törőcsik in her first film, and Máté, played by Imre Soós. Inevitably the path of true love does not run smooth: Mari’s father, István, is a farmer who favours private holdings, while Máté is a proud and articulate member of the local collective. Mari’s father attempts to marry his daughter off to the son of another private landowner, Sándor Farkas, played by Ádám Szirtes. However Mari rebels against this forced marriage, and the climax of the film is a confrontation at a wedding where she dances with Máté in front of her now betrothed Sándor. Her father finally relents and allows her and Máté to be together and start a new life. In many ways it is a simple love story about how love conquers all, despite the objections of others.

But there is an underlying theme of land and how the peasantry was responding to collectivisation. It is too simple to say that Máté represents the new, Socialist, collectivist Hungary of that time, and István the old, land-owning peasantry. At one point István quotes the old Hungarian peasant proverb, “Land marries land” (”A főd, a fődhó házasodik„), meaning that of course one should marry not for love, but for land. However, Mari and Máté see it differently and it is this tension that is at the heart of the movie. In a sense the optimism for the future that is implicit in their relationship represented the optimism that things could get better in Hungary in the year or so leading up the 1956 revolution.

The acting of Mari Törőcsik is really what makes the love story work so well. Beautiful to a fault she manages to portray the innocence yet determination of an 18 year-old whose heart is full of love and has the strength of character to purse her love for Máté. As Byron once said, “Man’s love is of man’s life a thing apart; ’tis woman’s whole existence”; Törőcsik makes this part her own and you can see why: in this, her first film, she shone with the qualities that would make her the leading Hungarian film actress of the past 50 years.

The film features perhaps the most iconic scene of all Hungarian cinema. Mari and Máté are riding on the merry-go-round at a local fair but the view is from one of the chairs of the merry-go-round. We see the young couple swirling around, happy, carefree and in love, from the position of the merry-go-round itself. The swirling, carnival atmosphere has never been so dramatically captured. The cinematographer responsible for this shot, Barnabás Hegyi, took three days to get the scene just right using a hand-held camera while sitting on a platform attached to the merry-go-round. Many technical difficulties had to be overcome, such as where to set the lighting, but the result is visually stunning and ranks among best in the world.

The theme of swirling, with its qualities of carefree innocence and passion for life, and love, is reprised in the climatic scene at the wedding. As Mari and Máté dance, the camera follows them as they swirl and swirl in ever faster circles. The music plays louder and faster and the two lovers dance in front of the increasing disconcerted wedding guests. But they only have eyes for each other, oblivious to their surroundings. Fábri makes this merry-go-round theme explicit by cutting back to the original merry-go-round scene at the beginning of the film.

The film was initially released in time for the Cannes film festival and was Hungary’s principle entry. It created a sensation and was hailed as a breakthrough film showing that countries from the behind the Iron Curtain could in fact produce original and compelling cinema, rather than the dirge of socialist realism all too common at that time. In many ways Hungarian cinema was “discovered” in 1956 with Merry-Go-Round. Despite its critical acclaim at Cannes, it did not win the prestigious Palme d’or prize. That went instead to a French film, The Silent World, directed by Louis Malle and Jacques Cousteau. Fabri maintained the life-long view that this was a decision based on politics and not the artistic merits of the respective films. A young Francis Truffatt, then a film critic agreed as did the audience who whistled derisively when The Silent World was announced as the winning film. Fifty-odd years later, a Hungarian film has yet to win this coveted pinnacle of cinema excellence.

Zoltán Fábri continued to direct films into the 1960s including classics as as Dear Anna (Édes Anna), The Boys of Paul Street (A Pál utcai fiuk) and Professor Hannibal (Hannibál tanár úr). He was much in favour with the regime at that time, perhaps because he was more conventional in this approach than the new wave of Hungarian directors such as Miklós Janscó, whom we will meet later in this series. In later life he struggled to achieve the success of his earlier years and many of his screenplays never made it onto the screen. As I mentioned above, Törőcsik went on to great heights. Sadly, and it wouldn’t be a Hungarian story if there wasn’t some tragedy involved, Soós’s next film, The Empire Gone With a Sneeze, (Az eltüsszentett birodalom) was banned before screening and Soós became depressed, a situation made worse by his drinking and the poor parts he was offered. He committed suicide in June 1957, just days before his 27th birthday. Life may indeed be a merry-go-round, but clearly, not always.

On a recent visit to Melbourne, a colleague casually pointed out a sports stadium, saying that it was the only building left of the 1956 Olympics held in that city. It was the swimming arena, she said. I was momentarily stunned – even though I had been to Melbourne several times before, including on holiday, I had never thought to see if the venue of the greatest water polo ever, still existed. And apparently it was still there, the sole remaining venue of those Olympics 54 years ago.

Anyone with a Hungarian connection will understand the significance of the venue: it was the scene of the so-called ‘Blood in the Water’ match in which Hungary defeated the Soviet Union in the semi-finals of water polo.  The clue to all this is the date: the match took place on 6 December 1956, a month after the Soviet Union crushed the Hungarian revolution. It is not hard to imagine the atmosphere that must surrounded the event, with the Hungarians,  far away from their home, which was been torn apart by the Soviets. The crowd that day was decidedly partisan, there many local Hungarians present, plus, Americans and Australians who had no love for the Soviet Union. It was a rough affair from the start but when the Hungarian player, Ervin Zádor was punched in the eye by a member of the Soviet team and emerged from the water with blood streaming down his face, the crowd erupted. Officials fared the worst and called the match off with Hungary leading 4-0. The headlines the next day read, ‘Blood in the Water’, and the legend was born. Hungary went on to win the gold medal, beating Yugoslavia 2-1.

The match has recently been captured in two films: ‘Children of Glory’, includes a re-enactment of the ‘blood in the water’ match whilst a documentary ‘Freedom’s Fury’ reunites players from both sides who tell the story of the ‘bloodiest game in Olympic history’.

Today the venue is known as the Westpac Centre and is the home of the Collingwood Football Club and the Victorian Institute of Sport. It was closed when I made the trek there but I am not sure it is open to the public as such. However as you can clearly see, the glass facade with its distinctive vertical panes in the background of the photo of Zádor, are clearly visible today. The original pool itself is gone, judging by photos of the inside. I hope there is a plaque somewhere in the building commemorating the events of 6 December all those years ago.

As I stood opposite the stadium, taking the photo above, and thinking of that match, and those young men so far from home, an unmistakable sound caught my ear. Two young mothers, their young children in strollers, walked passed me, talking to each other. At that moment, I caught the oh so familiar sound of Hungarian being spoken. A chill went up my spine and I smiled. Hungarians, you just can’t get away from them.  Then, something must have got into my eye I guess, as I couldn’t see quite so clearly.

Thirteen years ago, in 1997, we lived in Budapest, in the district of Újpest, at 63 Munkásotthon utca. It was a special time in our lives and one that I have many fond memories of. Or at least I do now! Our apartment, on the third floor, was the base from which I began my exploration of Budapest, and Hungary. From this address we would walk the kilometre to the main underground railway station at Újpest and then onto to Budapest and beyond. Now, through the wonders of the Internet I can see again the apartment building we first lived in and take the same walk to the underground railway station.

I have been waiting for Google Streetview to “arrive” in Hungary but I now see that eXtreme Soft Group S.R.L , a Romanian company, is providing the first “street-level imaging” service for Eastern and Central Europe. I can re-explore the streets and places I once did all those years ago. The world has shrunk indeed.

For a full-screen view click on the small red square in the top right-hand corner of the photo. You can explore from this link as well: http://www.norc.at/pano/gVTYmF4k/.

We attended the James Taylor and Carole King “Troubadour Reunion” concert at Vector Arena in April and it was a fantastic evening.  I grew up with the music of James Taylor and so when I heard he was coming to Auckland I knew I had to see him perform live.  We were lucky to get perfect seats (second row, just slightly left of center) so the view was perfect.  My over-whelming impression from the evening was just how nice a guy James seems to be.  I mean, his music would suggest that, being all mellow and the like,  but when you are just a few metres away from him, you can sense the warmth and decency within him.  Anyway, here is a video we took of one of the numbers from their encore, “You Can Close Your Eyes”.  Enjoy.

Ah, the magic, moment has arrived.  The time when we need to take the next step forward, to move up a gear, to make a step change with the plum ‘wash’, and other phrases that betray too many Corporate rev up events. In plain English, it is time for distillation.  How do I know it is time?  Well, it is more a matter of practicalities. Easter is approaching fast and we have out-of-town plans after that, so best to get moving. Phone calls are made, arrangements are coordinated and last-minute instructions given. Tomorrow will be the big day. But first, one or two last-minute tasks to do to prepare the ‘wash’ for distillation.

Step 1: Measure the Alcohol Potential

This is new to me. “What is the reading on the hydrometer?”, I’m asked, as I seek instructions. “What ?“, I reply, clearly showing my ‘newbie’ status in the land of the Still Boys.  I discover, eventually, that  one of the items I had purchased is used to measure the alcohol potential of the ‘wash’ and should be used in a before, during and after manner. Well, let’s skip the first two stages and go straight to the “What does it say now?” stage.  In the end I have trouble reading the hydrometer, and decide that stage isn’t for me anyway and go straight to Step 2, The Squeezing of The Fruit.

Step 2: The Squeezing of The Fruit

Having decided to dispense with the hydrometer, I now have to drain the ‘wash’  so that only liquid is left.  This is done by pouring the ‘wash’ through a pillow case, preferably an old one and definitely one you don’t wish to use as a pillow case again.  We need another bucket for this and several other pairs of hands. It turns out to be quite a mission and so we head for the bath.  Dean has instructed me that it is essential to squeeze as much liquid out of the fruit, securely encased in the pillow case, as is possible. For it is in the inner recesses of the fruit that lies the real flavour, the aromas that will make this pálinka taste of, well, plums (and not old pillow cases). So we squeeze, and squeeze again.  Squeeze, baby, squeeze!  And slowly we wring out as much liquid as we can.  I now understand why grapes are trampled on, rather than squeezed.  Funny the things you learn.  After an hour, I am left with left with about 17 litres of plum juice, fermented plum juice, fermented plum juice containing I don’t know how much alcohol because of the hydrometer ‘situation’ (See Step 1).

Step 3: Distillation

The next day I take the bucket of fermented-plum-juice-containing-I-don’t-know-how-much-alcohol to the house where the still resides.  Dean awaits his acolyte and we begin. It is actually pretty simple.  We pure the liquid into the still, ensure it is connected right, and turn it on. And wait. And wait some more. For the first forty-five minutes or so nothing happens. Or at least nothing we can see.  But the heat is rising and the liquid is beginning its transformation into ‘hooch’. After forty minutes or so, we turn on the water that flows through the condenser part of the still.  This is part of the magic, although it is pure science.  The alcohol boils at a lower temperature than water.  Water boils at 100° Celsius, while alcohol (technically ethanol) is boils at 78°.  When it boils it is converted in a gas (like steam when water boils). The gas travels up the still, passes besides the condenser which cools the gas so that it becomes liquid. That liquid is alcohol. Pure and simple. Amazing really. Especially to me who stopped chemistry as soon as he could at the end of the Fourth Form at high school.

After fifty minutes, the first liquid starts to flow down the tube into the awaiting plastic jug. Actually the first liquid produced is (mostly) methanol, which is poisonous, as in it will make you go blind and kill you. Badly.  We discard the first 150 ml  of liquid.  Discard in the sense of throw it away, down the drain and far away.

We are now getting (mostly) ethanol/alcohol and wait while up to 2 litres is produced.  After the first litre we need to do a measure and taste.  We pour a small sample into a glass tube, insert a hydrometer into the tube and measure the alcohol.  This is a different hydrometer than before so I can read this one and beside, Dean is clear it is essentially to measure the alcohol content at this stage. It is a whopping (my description) 63% and the teaspoon-size we sample packs a powerful punch.  But it does taste of plums so we are on the right track. After 2 litres we measure again and this time the alcohol is down to 60%.

At this stage we  need to smell and measure much more frequently.  This is because as the liquid gets to a higher temperature, different stuff is produced. For example, propanol is produced between 82° and 97° and above 100° you start to get things like Butanol, which, according to Wikipedia, “may be used as a fuel in an internal combustion engine”. Right. We don’t want any of that!  After much discussion, smelling the latest 250ml of liquid,  and general blokey stuff, we stop production at 2.8 litres and turn off the still.
One final measure of the alcohol reveals a strength of 56%. This is really too high to be enjoyed and so need to take this down to a more ‘drinkable’ level and after much discussion and more blokey stuff, we settle on a desired outcome of 46% alcohol.  And how do we get to that level? Simple, add water! Yes, we determine how much water is required using a special formula. In our cases we need to add another 626mls of water. And that is that. We are done. We pour the finished product into bottles for distribution among the rest of the Still Boys, attach labels (Péntek Pálinka or ‘Friday Fruit Brandy’)  and were are finished.  Not quite as we, like all good Still Men, tiidy up after ourselves and leave everything nice and clean.

The Last Step: Drink

The moment arrives. Into a shot glass, a quick smell and then down the hatch!  Man, it tastes good. Very good.  In fact it tastes like plum brandy. Which is about all I need to say really.

Summary

• 8 Kilos of Fortune Plums (red-fleshed), stoned
• 4 Kilos of sugar
• 60 gms of yeast nutrient salts
• 20gm Lalvin EC 1118 Champagne Yeast
• 2 large vitamin B tablets, crushed
• Wash began on Sunday, 21 March 2010
• Wash drained and squeezed, Tuesday, 30 March
• Distillation 31 March
• 1st liter produces 63% alcohol
• 2nd liter produces 60% alcohol
• Next 250 ml produces 45% alcohol
• Last 380 ml produces 40% alcohol
• Final take is 2.88 liters at 56% alcohol
• Diluted to 46% with 626 ml of water

Homedistiller.org

This is really the best place to go for all your home distillation needs.  Comprehensive is an understatement, and it contains everything you need to know about the process, the science, and everything else connected with making your own ‘hooch’.  If you are contemplating this hobby, this site is essential.