Tango

Tango is an unusual film, deliriously festive. It breaks with the viewer’s expectations and transforms the usual linear narrative of cinema in an astonishing way. There are no written texts. There is no dialogue. There is no voice-over. There is no main character. There is no single focus of attention. There is no explanation for the formal display. There is no plot. There is no causal development. Nothing is explained. Little makes sense. It is not based on any book. It does not resemble any novel.

There is a setting: a room with three doors, a window, a bed, a bookcase and a table where, completely unexpectedly, dozens of characters begin to appear, performing a single action repeated in a loop. The few scenographic elements are sufficient to contextualise the actors’ performances. The first element to make an appearance is a ball that comes through the window. The ball introduces a second character, the child who threw it, who does not hesitate to sneak in to retrieve it. From here on, one person after another begins to enter, until a total of thirty-six accumulate in a single, small space, whose only performance is copied repeatedly in post-production. Eating, sleeping, dressing, crying, fixing a light bulb, doing a handstand or scrubbing the floor are some of the activities that take place. They all behave as if there were no one else around. The viewer, however, a privileged observer, sees everything. The lack of narrative elements – both written and verbal – contrasts with the accumulation of visual information and the sound counterpoint. A tango is heard and synchronised sound effects are repeated. Over the course of eight minutes, everything happens – as much or more than in the Marx Brothers’ cabin scene and with as many or more characters.

Polish director Zbigniew Rybczynski probably had the worst night any Oscar winner has ever had. During the 55th Annual Academy Awards ceremony (1983), his short film, Tango (1981), was announced as the winner in the Best Animated Short Film category. Presenter Kristy McNichol mispronounced his name, stammering, ‘Zbigniewski Sky.’ When Rybczynski accepted the award, his speech was interrupted by the orchestra. After speaking to reporters in the press room, Rybczynski left the auditorium to smoke a well-deserved cigarette. When he tried to return, a security guard refused him entry. Although Rybczynski was holding his Oscar, he was wearing a cheap suit and trainers because he couldn’t afford better clothes. With his poor English, he tried to explain to the guard that he was an Oscar winner. Hearing Rybczynski’s botched speech, the security guard mistook his poor pronunciation for advanced drunkenness, so without thinking twice, he pushed him against the wall. During the altercation, Rybczynski shouted, ‘American pig! I have an Oscar!’ or something to that effect, and he did try to kick the guard in the groin. As a result, poor Rybczynski spent the night in jail until the matter was resolved.

Translated with DeepL.com (free version)