Sometimes you come to a movie blind, having no idea what it’s about. Sometimes that’s a lot of fun. The film’s mysteries reveal themselves as the filmmakers intended, without being previously spoiled. Sometimes you feel completely lost, not understanding what the movie is trying to do or say.
Buy Weak Spot Blu-rayWeak Spot opens with the camera pointed at a grey, nondescript building. Two dark, nondescript cars pull up. Several average men in grey, nondescript suits get out. They go into the building. A woman screams. Then shouts. The camera pans up several stories to the top. A man comes out onto the balcony. The woman continues to scream. The man jumps. The woman runs out onto the balcony being held back by those men in suits. The camera pans down to the man now lying dead on the sidewalk. Police cars pull up. Passers-by stop and stair. The opening credits roll.
We gather a few things from this scene. This place exists in a police state. Those men in suits were the secret police. The man chose to kill himself instead of being taken in. But we don’t know if he was innocent or guilty of some crime. Either way, he felt suicide was a better alternative than interrogation.
I kept thinking about the filmmaking. When the camera pans up, they must have pulled in some kind of air cushion or something to catch the man when he jumps. But as soon as he was down, they had to pull it away, and the man had to lie down on the concrete dead. All of this had to happen in a matter of moments, but it looks so natural and smooth.
We then find ourselves in the bedroom of Georgis (Ugo Tognazzi), a seemingly uncomplicated, completely average man who works for the tourism board. He’s lying in bed with his girlfriend. Acting playful. He smears icing from a cake on her breasts then joyfully rubs his face into them. Then, they dress and part company. He buys a few things at street markets then stops at a cafe for a drink. A man comes out of the bathroom and steps on his toes. Georgis yells at the man saying he has corns on his left foot and that it really hurts to be stepped on. The man cracks that he thought his corns were on his right foot then leaves.
Moments later, he’s picked up by the secret police. They shove him into their car and take him to the local security office. Though he asks, they refuse to tell him what it is about. At the station, they tell him to strip off his clothes and put on another set. At first, he balks but then he complies. His new pants are too big so he must hold them up with his hand. All of this seems to be an act of humiliation.
Eventually, he is placed in front of the Police Superintendent (Dimos Starenios), who tells him that the man who stepped on his foot in the cafe was a subversive. Obviously, the foot-stepping was a signal, and their chatter was secret code. The very fact that Georgis didn’t fight the man (and thus prove his masculinity) shows that the interaction was a setup. Georgis proclaims his innocence. He is a peaceful citizen he says. The Superintendent says he can prove his innocence by listing off the names of people he’s turned in as subversives. Any good citizen would turn in anyone they ever heard say something negative about the regime. Georgis has no names.
He’s turned over to two agents, simply known as Investigator (Michel Piccoli) and Manager (Mario Adorf), who will take him to Athens for an official interrogation (and likely torture and murder). They borrow a car and Manager drives it wildly over backroads. The car breaks down and they walk to a little village. The agents constantly bicker. Manager is a hot head while Investigator is meticulous in his actions.
They go to a bar and have a drink. They make a phone call. They must get to the ferry before the last one leaves. They help a worker unload some heavy bags or mortar. Manager leaves to seek help. Investigator and Georgis talk. They develop something of a rapport. They meet a couple of girls and walk to the beach. They are mistaken for friends. There is something absurd about two middle-aged men dressed in suits sitting on a beach watching two bikini-clad girls frolic in the ocean.
There is something absurd about this movie. At times, I thought it was a satire. The whole situation was so ridiculous. Yet it is also deadly serious. This is how fascism works. Georgis is amiable and kind. He no longer asks questions or argues. He treats the agents with respect. But he’s cunning as well. He tells the agents that he knows they are playing games. That everything they’ve done – the wild driving, the breakdown, the masonry was pre-planned. All designed to test him. To see if he would run. Because if he tries to escape, his guilt is automatic. There is no need for interrogation after that.
For most of the film, we don’t know if Georgis is guilty or not. Was that scene in the cafe a random accident? Or was it a moment between two subversives? Has everything been pre-planned by the agents or are they as lax as they seem to be? And those nondescript men we keep seeing wandering around them, are they guarding Georgis or spying on the agents? Who watches the watchmen?
It is all very confusing and intensely enjoyable. I spent half the movie utterly confused as to what was happening. This kept me on my toes, desperately wanting to see what would come next. Now that it is over, I can’t get it out of my head.
Weak Spot is based on the book of the same name by Greek writer Antonis Samarakis. It is considered somewhat prescient as it was written just a couple of years before the Regime of the Colones, a seven-year totalitarian junta in Greece. I’m generally not one to take an older film and try to apply it to current events but it was hard not to watch this and see its connections to everything happening right now in America. I’ll be thinking about that in the days and weeks to come.
Radiance Films presents Weak Spot with a new 4K transfer from the original negative and it looks terrific.
Extras include:
- Audio commentary by critic Travis Woods (2024)
- Archival TV interview with Michel Piccoli discussing Weak Spot (1975)
- Soundtrack expert Lovely Jon discusses the Ennio Morricone score (2024)
- Newly improved English subtitle translation
- Reversible sleeve featuring designs based on original posters
- Limited edition booklet featuring new writing by Kat Ellinger
- Limited edition of 3000 copies, presented in full-height Scanavo packaging with removable OBI strip leaving packaging free of certificates and markings
