The Temptation of St. Tony
aka: Püha Tõnu Kiusamine | Estonia
Dir : Veiko Õunpuu [2009]
Veiko Ŏunpuu's dazzling, hypnotic second feature is the kind of film from which cults are born. The Temptation of St. Tony is dense in references that are literary (including Dante and Kafka), biblical (allusions to the Stations of the Cross) and cinematic (Buñuel and Pasolini are mentioned in the credits of the film), and has been read as a critique of capitalism as it tightens its grip on contemporary Estonia. It's also riotously hilarious and inventive, as funny as it is dark, full of strange, disconcerting and alluring images, incidents and sounds. It's beautifully shot in black-and-white, and Taavi Eelmaa is mesmerising as the eponymous Tony, a middle manager hitting middle age and facing the accompanying crisis.
To appreciate Veiko Õunpuu’s artful tale of moral confusion, let’s begin where he does—with Dante’s Inferno: “Midway upon the journey of our life, I found myself within a forest dark.”
Tony, a middle-aged, midlevel manager, leads a quiet life. But one day, he starts to question the value of being good. In a series of bizarre encounters in which he fires his employees, witnesses his wife’s infidelity, and meets a soon-to-be kidnapped girl (never mind the severed hands and mystery dog), Tony gradually becomes unhinged from reality.
Õunpuu’s second feature asks, what good is goodness when all it brings is loss? He gleefully supplants our sense of narrative context with avant-garde flourishes, wryly devised vignettes, and unfolding metaphors, stranding us in poor Tony’s forest dark. Provocative and evasive, the film infuses chaotic energy and emotional tension into its elegant black-and-white imagery. Õunpuu’s stark vision feels more like a dream (or nightmare) and recalls the beauty of being oblique.
Tony, a middle-aged, midlevel manager, leads a quiet life. But one day, he starts to question the value of being good. In a series of bizarre encounters in which he fires his employees, witnesses his wife’s infidelity, and meets a soon-to-be kidnapped girl (never mind the severed hands and mystery dog), Tony gradually becomes unhinged from reality.
Õunpuu’s second feature asks, what good is goodness when all it brings is loss? He gleefully supplants our sense of narrative context with avant-garde flourishes, wryly devised vignettes, and unfolding metaphors, stranding us in poor Tony’s forest dark. Provocative and evasive, the film infuses chaotic energy and emotional tension into its elegant black-and-white imagery. Õunpuu’s stark vision feels more like a dream (or nightmare) and recalls the beauty of being oblique.
