Venice Film Festival 2021 | Erasing Frank

Is it still worth watching films on communist repressions of 1950-the 1980s in the Eastern bloc? Could it help cinephiles revisit the dialectic of individual vs. the collective and its Marxist, Liberal, and post-modern interpretation? Cinema has always been revelatory but never neutral. Erasing Frank “ELTOROLNI Frankot” by Hungarian director Gabor Fabricius narrates a story like others of The Lives of Others and Viva Belarus to depict individuals’ struggles. It stars Benjamin Fuchs and Anna by Kincso Blenes, the main characters who dissented, lost but advanced a noble cause of freedom.

The political drama utilizes a few signature techniques.  First, the hand-held camera portrays the hellish life of Frank closely; the tensions are covered in every moment. Second, the black and white cinematography sets the stage for a film that not only belongs to a bygone era but is infused with a sense of suffocation and stillness. Dialogues are heavy, and some scenes, especially in the psychiatric ward, are unpleasing to watch. Third, music is minimal but carries a powerful sense of sorrow and alienation. Last but not least, the teasers and footage would provide some context, though overt of the historical significance and backdrop of the film and the story.

Erasing Frank centers on the life of a talented singer Frank. He is adamant and steadfast. Frank is not easy to be lured and switching side. The main character’s actions, as solid and challenging, fittingly portray the challenges in every sense. The other characters, such as Hanna and Psychiatrist lover, complement and help the viewers better understand Frank’s resolve and why he would be erased eventually? In a complex analysis of the interplay of the main characters, in the context of the totalitarian nature of the story and setting, it is clear that forces of romance, agency, resistance, and love intermingle and push the characters in a different direction. Ironically, all perish by the film’s ending, but the nuanced message coming off Fabricius’ last feature is that of triumph. Frank is not a dead hero or murky anti-hero. He never permits his agency to take his freedom and love for a better society away. The same sentiment is alive in Russia under Putin, Hungry under Orban, and in Belarus under Lukashenko.

Interestingly, Frank and Anna’s modes of resistance are not very covert and secretive. They sing and write. They could have blogged and used their freedom of expression these days through Instagram and Facebook, as they would, their ultimate act of defiance and resistance is highly political. Reading the film from this angle makes it very anti-establishment. However, Fabricius provides the gloomy alternative which has been in the political discourse post-Trumpian and post-pandemic. In a few scenes, the state agents pragmatically convey the message to Frank that the system lives on regardless of your dissenting act and even if you kill us all. The Psychiatric yard and the subtext of forced migration are both indicators of the resistance challenges as faced by many dissenters across the globe irrespective of time and setting.

Analyzing Frank’s character can take us to different interpretations of the film as well. He loves and does it endearingly. He does not want to take advantage of his lover at the story’s beginning to flee and Anna to make any impression. He loves to secure a higher level of value and freedom. His love and sacrifice, as portrayed by Fabricius, transcend petty romance and easily tinder culture. It is not a surprise that, in the final scene, Anna whispers to Frank that she will join him. In this context, Anna and Frank and all like-minded agents of history, their act and self-sacrifice  cannot and would not be erased. It is fascinating to see that camera, music, and nuanced storytelling can bring back not the destructive but emancipatory power of human agency.

Erasing Frank screened at Venice Film Festival was well received by critics and viewers. Some may like Frank or Anna or dislike their sacrifice. Some may add political psychiatry to their list of jargon, but for the director, the barbaric lyrics matter in a sense of transcending time and cultures.

Grade: A-