The basic plot of ETERNITY AND A DAY is straightforward enough - an aging writer Alexandre (Bruno Ganz) meets a young illegal Albainian immigrant (Achileas Skevis) and takes his home. As he does so, the writer reflects on his own life; his past; his relationship with his mother and his wife; and what he has achieved in his life. Yet Theodoros Angeloploulos' film is at heart a meditation on the act of writing: when we set down words on the page, do they actually record our experiences, or can they only provide an approximation of what we are feeling at any particular moment? Alexandre is perpetually tormented by this thought - although successful in his chosen career, he believes that he has been a failure, simply because of the notion that words can only allude to experience, not record it. The child, in his innocence, believes that words can be found, or bought; but however much one pays for that word (in terms of buying a book, for instance, or when a writer receives royalties for what they have done), those words are still inadequate. They are both allusive - in the sense that their relationships to actions and things are contingent upon circumstances - and elusive (in the sense that such relationships are only approximate). With such uncertainties in his mind, Alexandre comes to understand that there is no "final" distinction between "life" and "death" (after all, they are only words); he has to experience both as a continuum, without the support of anyone. Visually speaking, the film is full of stylistic ironies: Angelopoloulos' camera is perpetually tracking forwards; we see cars in the traffic-choked streets driving off to somewhere, or traveling on the freeway; while the characters are seen crossing the frame from left to right. All suggest some kind of forward movement, a desire to go from one place to another. However such movements are not "progressive" at all, but rather suggest a desire not reflect on life's futility (as Alexandre discovers through his words). In a sense such movements are an evasion rather than an engagement with existence. The same also goes for the "narrative" of the film: Angelopoloulos shows that it is not particularly significant: what matters more is for viewers to reflect on the mise-en-scene within individual frames; to listen to the words, focus on the actors' expressions and body movements, and understand Alexandre's state of mind. A long and complex film, ETERNITY AND A DAY befits repeated viewings.
