Manifesto

Made up of 12 short films and a stage-setting introductory film, Julian Rosefeldt’s Manifesto casts Cate Blanchett as 12 different characters spouting different artistic manifestos from the last century or so. The film began as a 13-channel art installation in which all 12 films play simultaneously, pitting all of these contrasting philosophies against each other. At one point during their 11-minute cycles, the films sync up, with extreme close-ups of Blanchett’s face tattooing all 12 screens as she continues her monologue in each.
That installation has now been turned into a traditional work of cinema, Rosefeldt kicking off with a selection from the introductory film and then, with the help of editor Bobby Good, intercutting the remaining 12 shorts together. Naturally, this approach extinguishes the appeal of being surrounded by multiple Cate Blanchetts all at once, and Manifesto The Movie also, to some degree, loses the installation’s original raison d’être. By adopting a more conventional “narrative” approach, one of Rosefeldt’s larger points—basically, making all of these varying artistic philosophies equal—is made less viscerally immediate than it would have been for a viewer standing in the middle of his massive conceptual art piece.
Still, even if Manifesto, by its very nature, can’t hope to replicate the singular experience of finding oneself lost in the many pathways of 20th-century artistic thinking, Rosefeldt’s provocative vision remains essentially intact. On one level, Rosefeldt is setting out a mission statement of his own. By situating the texts of thinkers and artists—ranging from Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels to André Breton and Kazimir Malevich, from Guy Debord and Sol LeWitt to Lars von Trier and Sturtevant—in real-world, modern-day settings, Rosefeldt aims to shake the cobwebs off these philosophies, taking them out of the historical context from which they sprung and trying to locate the eternal relevance in them.