Zoltán Huszárik-1963- 1979 — Zoltán Huszárik-1963- 1979( Blu Ray boxset)

From Second Run Films, here we have a three Blu-ray set collecting together most of the climactic output of Zoltán Huszárik- a Hungarian filmmaker whose work has a very distinctively visual quality. The set brings together his two feature films- 1971’s Szindbád and 1979’s Csontváry, as well as five short films dating from between 1966 and 1976. All of Huszárik's work sits within the arthouse genre- yet it’s all fairly approachable, with a creative and rewarding visual palette,  as well as compelling concepts and themes.

All of the films are given a 4k scan. There are extras on the first two discs, as well as glossy inlay booklets for the two feature-lengths. Each of the three discs comes in its own Blu-ray case, with a card slip around the three discs.

 

On disc one, we have 1971’s Szindbád- Huszárik's first official feature film, after releasing twelve shorts and TV films.  The picture regards the title character played by Zoltán Latinovits, a moustached Casanova who looks back over his womanising life. The film is an arty period drama, constantly jumping back and forth between several timelines at the turn of the 20th century, in the last years of the Austro-Hungarian empire.

The picture runs at a fairly standard one hour and thirty minutes mark, but it’s full to the brim with imagery, as well as moving through shifting seasons from rich green summers, onto multi coloured leaves falling in autumn, through to crisply frosty and snow-bound winters.

Budapest-born Lead actor Latinovits was given the moniker of 'the king of 20th-century movies' in Hungary. Between the late 50’s and the early 1980’s he racked up an impressive eighty-three roles- moving between feature lengths, TV episodes, and TV movies. And he really does have a screen presence/ magnetism in the role of Szindbád- with his shifting age over the film done well.

The film opens with around a minute and a half of rapidly cut together visuals, taking in coloured fluids on petri dishes, opening flowers, close-up of red hot embers, dried three leaves, aged monochrome pictures of elegantly dressed women, rock surfaces, and water dripping from splintered wood shards, etc. 

We then move into autumn, nearing dusk footage. Where we see a horse and carriage- with a passed out from booze/ asleep  Szindbád leaving his lover's house, being sent back across fields to his wife's house- she strips off his large coat, before sending him back to his lover.

As we get into the film, we see a later middle-aged Szindbád returning to visit old flames from the past- some are married now, while others berate him for his cheating ways.  Moving on, the shifting back and forth through time increases- from the romantic younger man's fondling/promises made in overgrown graveyards. To an older man desperate for sleep, being cradled by a mass of elderly religious women in a dusk settling in park.

Dotted throughout the film are more rapid cut image montages, as well as one-off rapid cuts of what looks like Super eight footage. The film's musical palette is fittingly varied too- moving between abstract percussion/ female warbling, jaunting/ jolly ragtime, onto lose/ crude bass-bound jazz fumbling, through to ornate string soundtracking.

Though Szindbád has arty touches/ structure- you can(largely) follow the lead character's timeline, and the impact his behaviour has on his many lovers, and ultimately on himself. The film has a decidedly downbeat resolve- though it works, and really, how else could it end? Szindbád is an impactful/ original debut feature-length, with a clear amount of thought put into every level of the film's production.

On this disc, we get a few extras- on the new side, we have Szindbád - An appreciation (12.49), which finds film-maker Peter Strickland (Berberian Sound Studio, In Fabric) discussing the picture. He begins by talking about how different Huszárik films were from the rest of Hungarian cinema, which often uses one-track tracking shots. He talks about how the film touches on other forms of visual arts- without feeling like it does. He touches on the novel the film is based on, 1911’s The Adventures of Sinbad by Gyula Krúdy, saying that it’s clear the lead character was based on him. He declares that the film has so many ideas never been used by other filmmakers. Otherwise, we have the following: The World of Krúdy and Huszárik(21.57), a discussion of writer Gyula Krúdy’s novels and Huszárik's film adaptation. Huszárik and contemporary music (23.38) interview with composer Zoltán Jeney. 

On the archive side, we have: Inside the Popular Science Film Studio(2.24), a newsreel on the special photographic techniques employed in Szindbád.

 

 

Moving on to the second disc in the set, we have 1979’s Csontváry, which is an arthouse biography of Hungarian painter Tivadar Csontváry Kosztka. He was one of the first painters to become widely known outside his own country and was a key part of the avant-garde movement of the early twentieth century.

As he did with Szindbád, he once again goes for a less-than-formal film structure- but pushes it even further, with only a few scenes formally/ dramatically constructed- but more on those later.

We open up with visuals of rain hitting water, and a modern classical soundtrack that blends flute & piano. Water plays a big part in the film's visuals, be it huge/ grand waterfalls, rivers, or the sea it’s self-, with sometimes weird shapes/ things under the H20 covering.

A large part of the film sees our moustached, or fully bearded, painter- played by Bulgarian film and stage actor Itschak Fintzi- walking landscapes, painting, or dreaming. The latter of these offers up some of the film's most memorable imagery- like a series of life-sized mannequins dressed in Victorian clothes being mauled by a dog, before one figure's face slowly melts off. And a swimming pool full of clothed psychiatric patients and his paintings. Though that said, some of the landscape shots are truly awe-inspiring too.

As I mentioned earlier, there is only one or two formally presented scenes, which show moments from the painter's life in a more normal dramatic form. One of these is when he returns to his ageing mother's home for a birthday party- also in attendance is his wife & son- he has time for his mother, very much fussing/ overtly embracing her, and he plays with his son, but he belittles/ puts down his wife.

Yes, Csontváry is most certainly an arthouse film- but it’s an engaging/ approachable one, which truly gives one the feeling of an artist shifting between inspiration, frustration, and near madness. Fintzi is excellent in the lead role, really selling the artist throughout his lifetime.

On the second disc, we just have the following extras-Who is Zoltán Huszárik?(10.20)  A short documentary exploring the life and vision of the filmmaker and artist, and Making Csontváry ( 3.15) Archival behind-the-scenes newsreel footage, including a rare on-set interview with Huszárik.

 

 

On the third and final disc, we have five short films by Huszárik dating from between 1963 and 1976. These feature a fairly varied subject matter- but with, of course, the Huszárik use of rapidly cut/disorienting imagery.

First up, we have Groteszk, which was the director's second film. It dates from 1963 and runs for eleven minutes. We open with monochrome credits, accompanied by a score that brings together stabbing electronic tones & distant, humming male vocals.  The film's main character is a middle-aged, thin, and balding man who is carrying a few items of luggage, as well a self-portrait oil painting on his back. He moves from walking over a stage dotted with random people and boards with arrows on. Into a never-ending queue for tickets, onto a train, through many carriages with the same women in. Out onto lying down on train tracks, etc. The film had a decidedly Kafkaesque quality, with a score that shifts between avant-garde to more formal jazz.

Next is 1966 Elégia, which is seemingly about horses and humans, and their interaction.  The film runs at twenty-one minutes, and it is quite a darting/ at points very intense/ disturbing. We open with a shot of two horses on some scrub land, which features jerky cuts/ editing. Then we shift to shots of a mass of shifting/ darting houses. As we go on, we get shots of the moon, cracked tarmac, farm tracks/ road, ageing farm workers, more shots of horses often visually warped, cart wheels, a horse and human skeleton side-by-side, manhole covers, traps without horses, blowing betting slip grasslands, etc. The most troubling of the imagery shown here is the killing of horses in a slaughterhouse, and at times, the speed of the images gets extremely dizzying/ at times, manic.

The third film here is 1969’s Capriccio, which runs at just over seventeen & a half minutes. We open with great swarms of birds flying above an autumnal field. Ageing bronze statues covered with leaves. Children building snowmen & snowball fights- been soundtracked by a lowkey blend of bird song and organ simmer. Snowmen wearing hats, holding flaming candelabras, and paintings. Nighttime trees, iced lakes, blue skies, and beds on lakes of ice.

Film number four is Homage to Old Women, is from 1972. It runs at thirteen minutes and fifteen seconds. It opens with a sway of birds in the sky and overgrown graveyard, quickly switching to an elderly man and woman walking through a snowy woodland. There’s old war footage, old women walking through graveyards dressed in black with cains through different seasons, weather-worn servicemen's graves, charcoal wood, and elderly women on deathbeds.

Finally, we have 1976’s A piacere. This runs for twenty minutes and twenty seconds. It opens with an ambulance speeding through a leaf-covered graveyard, in the antumal daylight. We see a back shot of a group of people gathered around a grave- one of the number is a woman with frilly red underwear, which we see as she bends over. Moving on, we see a crowd of mourners around an open grave- some almost falling in, others passing out. There’s footage of human skulls- some piled up, some in brown gowns, others just pulled from the earth. We get to see a selection of gravestones- moving from animal-related, to darkly comic, to the bizarre/ playful. We are shown a selection of wooden grave markers- colourfully painted, an explosion at sea during a war, a sword floating in water, a burning wicker man, emaciated corpses being carried/ thrown in the ground, metal pipe grave markers, and tides coming in & out.

All five films are most rewarding, highlighting both Huszárik's eye for fascinating to troubling imagery, and his real skill with editing/ rewarding non-narrative art film making.

In finishing, both Huszárik’s feature-length and short films are truly fascinating creations- alive with wonderful and haunting imagery, with most worthy focuses/ themes.  The 4k scans largely look really good- enhancing the film's clarity/ appeal. If you enjoy arthouse/ world film, this box set is a must, and one of 2025’s highlights.