Electra, My Love

Electra, My Love ★★★★½

In 1974, an unrelenting brownness was spreading across the world. Natural was the password and organic was becoming more than a branch of chemistry. The Marxist ideologies of 1968 were still in the air. Hippiedom was on its deathbed but still breathing as it became co-opted and institutionalized. A disillusioned baby boom generation was settling for tweed, corduroy and shag haircuts. Still looking for answers, our eyes settled on the perceived values of pre-industrial cultures to salve the atrocities of Vietnam and other hideous misadventures. Wedding photos were all in sepia with Victorian costume. Cinema fell in line and the classic tales of Greece, Rome and early Christianity became one of the main themes. Pasolini set the bar high early in the 60's with The Gospel According to St. Matthew and Woody Allen put it to rest, thankfully, with Mighty Aphrodite. Electra, My Love is somewhere in the middle, blending 70's haircuts, Marxist ideals, Civil War pistols, helicopters, modern dance and the unrelenting brownness into a mashup that is a rather beautiful tableaux of 70's culture. The film is much more interesting to read in that context than trying to squeeze out some post iphone wikileaks relevance. To me, it speaks very effectively of a more innocent, more honest time. But that time is 1974, not 1200BC.