Film review: Zorba, my man

Michael Cacoyannis’s film won the Oscar in 1964 for best scenography (Vassillis Fotopoulos) and the best image (Walter Lassally). And indeed, the value of the film resides in the actors’ unforgettable playing, in the black& white imagery which belongs to a world of contrasts, of alternations between drama and joy, playfulness and desire. Filmed in black and white, the film has the precision and elegance of a chess game.
From the beginning, the village in which Zorba and the Englishman ‘descend’ displays strong contrasts: generous sun and poverty, strong willed men and lonely women, gossip and secret, obsessive love, a sense of community and a look down upon strangers (Zorba himself, Mme Hortense, the widow). But this film is made up of a wide range of hues of/ between shadow and light: suicide out of love, vengeful crime, jealousy, friendship, spirit of invention. The transition from one hue to the other is the game of life…
The director also cultivates contrasts in building his characters: the exuberant Zorba (Anthony Quinn) versus the restrained Englishman (Alan Bates), the somber widow (Irene Papas) and the childish, sentimental Bubulina (Lila Kedrova – Oscar for secondary part). The film also owes his power to the strongly individualized couples, with characters shedding light on each other: one example would be Bubulina’s heart felt fragility and the widow’s strong willed silence and revealed fragility, too.
Contrast is at the core of the human being: in Cacoyannis’ view, Zorba himself is sometimes devilish (him getting out of the mine with a dark charcoaled face), sometimes a guiding angel; he can be both imposing, like a Greek god (the image with Zorba drinking wine, filmed in a spiral, from down up), and childlike, tender (his drawing for Bubulina); vanity doesn’t elude him either (his blackened hair stands as witness). All these features make a human being out of Zorba/ stand for Zorba’s humanity.
Zorba embodies Dionysus’ exuberant, protean spirit: he plays the santuri, dances, makes devilish business with the monks, descends underground, paints his hair black and overflows with love of life.
The contrast between his overflow and the Englishman’s bookish limitation is expressed in the multiple names Zorba has (Molima, California) and the single word designating the Englishman (boss). But soon this word becomes more of an ironic name, since the Englishman proves himself to be the uninitiated, the one without a name (like for the Indians, a name is won through deeds and actions), the stranger (xenos) not only in the small village he reaches, but also in life.
In Nikos Kazantzakis’ book Zorba was the stranger (the Macedonian), while in the film he embodies the enlightened (and naughty) Greek spirit, an irresistible combination of energy, imagination and passion. In the book Zorba is the stranger, an outsider and this is precisely what makes him become so tolerant and loving of people. In the film, he is helping the Englishman rediscover his Greek roots… Zorba’s paradoxe: a Macedonian becomes the embodiment of the Greek genius and… genie!
The boss is more of a spectator, while Zorba is both a director and an actor in life. Do you remember how he makes friends with the monks, how he spoils and soothes Bubulina, how he cancels failure through contagious laughter? “Have you seen them? Especially the monks... they were running down the hill...” Zorba celebrates life and friendship through dance.
The couple Zorba& boss also makes possible a meeting between cultures: the Greek one standing under the sign of vitality and the British one, embodying shyness and introversion.
The montage, backed up by the black and white imagery, alternates the boss’ moments of initiations with the Greek’s lessons of life. The apprenticeship in loving one’s brother begins on the boat: “what kind of man are you? you don't even like dolphins”, Zorba reproaches his boss, who keeps close to his books. When the Englishman hesitates in ‘courting’ the widow, Zorba talks to him as with a son: “I'm not young any more, boss, but you are. Go to her!”
When Zorba himslef experiences a moment of uncertainty doubled by a funny, disarming sincerity (“Boss, I might ruin you, my brain is not the right size”), it is the Englishman’s turn to support his friend: “Boss, give me courage”.
The dance of the two friends in the end of the film is a manifesto of the joy of living, of vitality and… the spectacle of life: “Have you seen them? Especially the monks... they were running down the hill”. For Zorba it’s not success that matters, but the dance of life: the generous waste of energy, the intensity of the experience. And the freedom to start all over again! Zorba is a man who radiates, enjoying the richness of feelings inspired by life. Alexis Zorba enjoys the spectacle of life, this is why his dance embraces the world.