Miklós Jancsó, "Electra My Love," 1974 film adaptation of László Gyukó's stage tragedy Szerelmem, Elektra (1968; published in Az equész ilet at Budapest, 1970).

Technically, since Gyukó’s play is in OGCMA, the film ought to be listed there, also. But Reid is biased against film! … and against Electra.

I am Electra speaking: blessed be everyman who rises against a tyrant…

A sister speaks to Electra about the death of their father.

Electra speaks for the populace.

lots of processional

lots of discussion of justice and tyranny

Crysothemis is in this family.

Since Agamemnon’s death 15 years ago, the people are happy.

Electra is utterly contrary, and this causes concern among Aegisthus’ court.

There is frequent discussion of the “Feat of Truth”

This feast of truth is a propaganda event.

“Thanks to you, sire”

It’s not Aegisthus who needs destroying, but the system he established.

Another would replace him.

Is this entire film shot in one shot?

Not really, but the shots are very long and carefully orchestrated.

Clytemnestra is long gone, reportedly.

Thus, it’s Electra vs. Aegisthus, then joined by Orestes.

She murders the messenger who brought news of Orestes’ death.

Is sentenced to death.

If you’re happy I want pain.

The people cover their ears.

Aegisthus is netted and knifed “because he burdened his people with freedom”.

Then for the first time Electra smiles.

Aegisthus’ henchman enacts some erotic choreography then is killed by Orestes.

Aegisthus is executed by gunshot.

This is called “the story’s end” as Orestes walks away.

final martyrdom in suicide pact

escape by helicopter

discussion of Phoenix

blessed be your name, Revolution

See P. Michelakis, Greek Tragedy on Screen, chapter 7, where bibliography to other interpretations is cited.

NOTE WRITTEN TO FREDERICK LUSCHIN on 11 Aug 2015:

Dear Frederick,

I intended to recommend a cinematographically interesting film I watched just yesterday. 

The 1974 Hungarian film Electra, My Love is a remarkable telling of the Orestes/Electra myth. It works largely because it diverges dramatically from one’s expectations. Conceived as a late-1960s stage play under the domination of Soviet tyranny in Hungary, the film invokes political Revolution as a concept manifest in the actions of Electra and her brother. Neither sibling is actually capable of contriving tyrannicide alone; but, their dynamic combination achieves the necessary energy that eliminates Aegisthus and his cronies. 

You may not feel like watching it, because there is a good deal of female nudity in it (and some male nudity, as well). However, the nudity is not primarily related to erotic situations. The disclosure of the human body — primarily female — seems to illustrate a depravity of the regime that fosters it. When the tyrants themselves are subjected to full nudity, their weakness is most overtly manifest. Electra, on the other hand, is fully covered in a dark dress throughout the film, wrists to neckline clothed in a dark dress. The nudity makes the film unusable in a BYU context, but it needn’t render the film unwatchable for a discerning viewer.

The cinematic marvel of the film is the long, long shots that fill the film’s 71 minutes. [Cf. the famous Spielberg “oners” and other directors’ long shots. Jancsó surpasses most of them.) A tremendous amount of orchestration has gone into every single shot. More like an analogue ballet than an edited film, the Jancsó’s visual narrative involves tremendously precise blocking from sometimes hundreds of actors and not a few dozen wild horses. It’s pretty stunning. (You can get an appreciation for this blocking in Richard Brody’s New Yorker online clip from 24 August 2010. (Link in my OGCMA slide, below.)

The concluding scene is kind of weird. Reminiscence of a Euripidean deus ex machina is certainly there, when a red helicopter intrudes upon the a-chronistic landscape the director has contrived for the audience. Only a handgun had broken the illusion that Electra and Aegisthus have collided in a world devoid of machines altogether. But there is that gun. Then there is the helicopter. It’s a bit jarring. 

If you get a chance to see Electra, My Love (1974, Miklos Jancsó = Szerelmem, Elektra) is an interesting usage of classical mythology.

(OGCMA0771NOTOrestes_Jancso)

M