Death In Venice

Luchino Visconti - 1971
The adaption of Mann's novella.
Some huge long shots (though some headshots and super closes, i.e. on his lips), as though carrying the weight of the frame, of the hotel, of a panorama, in that massive 'scope. The camera, as well as zooming in, scanning the locale, often makes slow movements across these horizontal milleu, as though to savour it. This was effective in so far as, like the eyeline match, it established a connection, and also in that idea of slow movement; the best parts of this film are often people walking, either Auerbach himself with that limp, or others ambling across him.
Horizontals are key here, and at times, especially with the succesful stage of blue used (a kind of cold vividness), can succesfully convey the atmosphere. However, there is a lack of actual shots of Venice, and I found some of the shots oversaturated, which didn't bring much to me.
There are fundamental problems in what is really a very faithful adaption. Auerbach is far too pathetic here, his discourses on art and so on absent, except in some perfunctory voiceover, make him seem pathetic; this isn't the point, Auerbach should be the very best of us. Further, the character is overemphasised; Tadzio looks at him too soon, Auerbach is too obviously rude and pathetic. Making him a composer is perhaps more cinematic, as music allows us to understand on the screen, but it also takes away for me one of the most important aspects of Mann's work; how he sets up a (probably not quite 'true', but I can run with Mann) contrast, or play, of exterior and interior. This film doesn't really grapple with these diffences, with us only getting the pathetic outer. As a novelist, Mann's figure can play the written psychology, with the music it can't really come together; but within this form (this kind of film; what would Rivette do?), making him a novelist would just mean more bad voiceover.
There are moments in this film where it looks like it might be great. Certain looks, pictures of Bogarde's face. Those oans across the rooms, people walking, moments of truth that outstrip Mann in characterisation of person and place. I couldn't quite accept it as an equal of its source, overall, however, if made to compare (which I'm not).