Sátántangó: the seven-hour film that divides critics

Sátántangó: the seven-hour work that fascinates and exasperates

Seven hours of footage, a hypnotic pace and a scene with a cat that has sparked more debate than the director's entire filmography. That is 'Sátántangó', the crowning work of Hungarian filmmaker Bela Tarr, back in the spotlight thanks to the Nobel Prize in Literature awarded to László Krasznahorkai, author of the novel on which it is based.

A seven-hour narrative challenge

The film, released in 1994, has become a cult object for some and an example of pretentiousness for others. Its extreme length – exactly seven hours – is no whim: each shot stretches to the limit of patience, creating an oppressive atmosphere that plunges the viewer into rural Hungarian misery. Some compare it to Mahler's symphonies: it doesn't make sense at first, but those who persevere find an unexpected reward. Others, however, dismiss it as "smug" and "pedantic", as some critics have written. Tarr himself has argued that his cinema is not for everyone, but for those willing to watch without expecting anything in return.

The controversial cat scene

One of the most memorable – and controversial – moments is the scene in which a young girl poisons a cat. Many viewers took it as real, but the director has clarified that the animal was his own and the scene was choreographed. The girl, ignored and mistreated by her family, takes her frustration out on the feline, a gesture some interpret as a metaphor for human power and cruelty. The controversy is served, and the debate over whether it is ethical to simulate animal abuse in film remains open.

Subtitles versus dubbing as the underlying debate

Another point of discussion is original language versus dubbing. The film was shot in Hungarian, and many viewers prefer to watch it with subtitles so as not to lose the nuances of the acting and of the sound, which is essential here. Others, however, defend dubbing for convenience, while admitting that details are lost. Tarr is known for his use of ambient sound, and the whispers, silences and noises of the Hungarian countryside are a fundamental part of the experience. For many, watching it dubbed would be like listening to a symphony with your eyes covered.

Whatever your stance, the truth is that 'Sátántangó' leaves no one indifferent. Does it make sense to devote seven hours to a film that gives you no answers? Perhaps the key lies in another question: what do you expect it to give you? For those seeking the truth, the answer may lie in the journey itself.