Made up of only twelve very long takes,  Miklós Jancsó’s film transforms a classic myth into a powerful political fable. 

Miklós Jancsó’s Electra, My Love (1974) is very much a film of its time, an artistic reaction to Soviet oppression in the years following the 1959 Hungarian revolution. Yet, the film is also a retelling of an ancient story that predates the Soviet Union and Hungary by thousands of years. A stunning amalgamation of ancient myth and modern history, its message is somehow still pertinent today. 

The film, itself an adaption of a 1968 play by Làszlò Gyurkò, tells the classic tale of Electra (Mari Töröcsik) who is imprisoned and oppressed by Aegisthus (József Madaras), the tyrant who killed her father and took the throne. Desperate to avenge her father, Electra refuses to concede defeat or join the cheerfully oppressed masses. When her long missing brother, Orestes (György Cserhalmi), returns to the kingdom, the revenge and justice she desires become possible. 

Comprised of only twelve very long takes, the seventy-minute-long film feels more like a bizarre ballet than a traditional cinematic experience. (Jancsó’s unconventional filming style meant the film only took one day to edit.) The camera weaves through choreographed crowds, moving forward and away from subjects as the frame expands or tightens. Only for a few brief moments does it dare to remain still. 

Similarly, the hoi polloi, more automaton than human, move to an always present drumbeat. They arrange themselves in composed and unnerving tableaus, and dance to strange steady rhythms. Even the lead characters circle each other as they converse. 

This uncannily choreographed movement is used to greatest effect in a sequence where Electra speaks out against the king. As she moves through the crowds lecturing on tyranny and oppression, the men and women of the audience stand and cover their ears. It is easier for them to pretend that they are not suffering at the hands of a cruel autocracy than to rise up against it.  

Electra, My Love  is both a universal fable and a commentary on once current events. Just as Aegisthus insists that the missing Orestes is dead, the Soviet government had suppressed all discussion of the failed Hungarian Revolution of 1959. Like Electra, who once in power, begins to develop tyrannical habits herself, the Soviet Union became the tyrants they originally fought against. 

Yet, unlike the Soviet government, Electra and Orestes seem to realize that their complacency has turned them into the leaders they loathe, and they literally kill themselves to start anew. Revolution does not rest when the battle is won. Revolution, Jancsó tells us, must die and be reborn like a phoenix. The fight against tyranny, for truth and liberty, must begin anew each morning. 

Electra, My Love is available on DVD from Facets on June 12. Buy your copy today. 

Author: Ora Damelin is a freshman film student at Columbia College Chicago. She loves to share her opinions on film and is delighted-and slightly befuddled-that those opinions are now published online.