According to this page, the longest version is 269 minutes. Here's the Google translation:
If Måker has his pastel in order and is an almost white film, what is Hud? The brand new, fifth (!) version of Hud is the shortest to date, 1 hour and 58 minutes. The longest is the television version from 1990 with its 269 minutes.
I also saw that version in connection with this text.
Skin has warm, dark colors. Brown. Red. Black. Munch. Stronger contrasts between fire and water, light and shadow, as in compositions with coiled bodies of women and girls in the arms of an elderly man.
Løkkeberg has probably never been closer to his dream of painting than in this film.
The film is, to a greater extent than Måker, a tragedy, in search of "the archetypal". Deep natural landscapes are also here squeezed claustrophobically together, sometimes with a slightly searching zoom. The settings' staging and cinematography, the juxtaposition of clips and sound are perhaps Løkkeberg's highlight. Certain scenes withstand static, long takes of over two minutes, while others are cut with the action film's detailed images and half-second speed.
The skin is our most vulnerable organ. And film means precisely skin.
With the new restoration, there is no longer "mold on the skin", as in Bård and Harald's harselas.
Large pictures paint a multitude in the opening. We see mute Malene (Tonje Kleivdal Kristiansen) through yarn outdoors and a crocheted veil in front of her face indoors, a motif by Løkkeberg also repeated in Måker. More than revealing a naked skin behind, she seems to want to show the masks in the veil, the yarn, the sheets, the blankets, the many nights around us.
She shows what's wrong.
Before part two of the TV version at NRK, Hud's action was described as follows by a voice over still images:
Vilde lives in the Bukken trading post, who has been abused by her stepfather Sigurd since childhood. With him, she has a daughter, Malene, who is now ten years old. The villagers see Vilde and Malene as the work of the devil, and the stepfather and the priest demand that Vilde marry the rich townsman Sjur and that Malene be baptized. Vilde rejects Sjur and seeks refuge with an English artist who lives nearby in the summer. Vilde's mother Borghild knows about the year-long incest between her daughter and her stepfather, and in blind rage she lies paralyzed in bed and curses her daughter.
Malene is not "just shy", as Vilde's (Løkkeberg) stick-pounding mother Borghild (Granneman) claims. The film's language is hidden goals, the notion of and the display of what no one wants imagined and displayed.
Vilde sees herself (as a youngster, played by Thale Svenneby) as boats bound to each other, and she also sees herself in Malene, with well-founded fear of a family curse.
"Wild, come to papa."
Trust can be power and a lure for abuse, and it is cut between the past abuse of childhood and the 1885-contemporary knife against tiles of chin, neck and larynx on a wooden figurehead, carved and nailed next to a lying, adult Vilde, in a loving relationship with the English artist Edward (Terence Stamp) on summer holiday.
"Take me with you," she tells him.
But if there is a sunset here, there are others on their way there.
Vilde remains silent during the priest's (Per Oscarsson) "Our Father" at his mother's bedside. We then see a kind of sacrificial place with stone fences and some green growth. Present and past take place in the same setting, directed at a landscape's inscribed memories. Unge Vilde undresses and kneels naked in front of her stepfather's arms, in perhaps the most harrowing and disgusting rape in Norwegian film history.
With restrained rage, Løkkeberg dares to stare with two open eyes at pedophilia and incest, civilizational traumas without parallel.
By the end of the action in the first television episode (of about an hour), we have reached about half an hour into the film. Compared to the TV series, the longest version of Hud, many scenes in the newly released version (based on the one shown in Cannes in 1987 and released on VHS) are obviously completely cut out, but also some scenes are cut out or carefully re-cut ( this should perhaps have been described in more detail in the release), for example, scenes of abuse, where the motivation does not seem to be due to any shame, but perhaps a desire to create something more subtle.
Because if every camera movement is a question of morality, as Løkkeberg's new wave role models Luc Moullet and Jean-Luc Godard claimed, then perhaps the ravages of time will also demand new bites? "Clips corresponding to seven minutes have been made in eight sequences at the request of the director", the booklet describes briefly.
One such sequence is when it is now cut (to a setting of a mountain in the sea) before an original tilt down with an adult hand to the touch of a young step. We are thus equated to a lesser extent with the hands and face of the aggressor. To date, perhaps the foremost study of Løkkeberg's films, Tone Kristine Kolbjørnsen's Living Pictures of Women (1992), describes the original scene as follows:
The next incest sequence comes almost immediately after the first, and this too is a visualization of Vilde's childhood memories: the father carries Vilde into the living room and places her on a stool in front of the window. He pulls up her dress, touches her sex and penetrates her from behind, while she looks at the "golden mountain". The abuse is interrupted when a man who does not belong to the family enters the living room where Vilde and Sigurd are. The man understands what has just happened and exclaims in horror: "Whore".
In the version we get to see now, the camera's tilt down to the stepfather "touching her sex" seems deemed "at the director's request" as unnecessary or inappropriate, perhaps even immoral.
In addition, the man who witnesses the whole clip is removed. The consequences of this for the reading of the sequence and the film as a whole are immediately incalculable and fall outside the scope of this brief stylistic analysis, but a comparative analysis of the Hud versions - including descriptions of all the now eight altered sequences - I would very much like to read someone's attempt to.
The eerie depictions of young and adult Vilde as a ragged tossing ball between men create a number of original, almost unique images, impossible to forget.
With Hud, Løkkeberg shows himself as a filmmaker who quite obviously wants something, needs something, and acts based on a kind of necessity.
Who has similarly cultivated an inexorable seriousness?
The Norwegian film nation would be, if not bankrupt, considerably poorer without the visual richness of her uncompromising filmography.
The whip and the bite.
"You could have left me alone," says Vilde soberly to his abuser.
In a godless world of coercion and tears, a small human body is stillborn on a wet and cold mountain, followed by its mother's blood.
She will not be in the hands of any master.
Vilde slips on her dress backwards down the stairs.
Under the moon, she stands as a silhouette against the sky.
The woman as meat on the man's path to money and power.
While everyone (including mother, who calls her "un-German" and "Hulder person") looks the other way.
But Malene finally finds the sound of the words.
She whispers: "Mommy."
And finally they are both able to raise their arms.
Vilde stands in the final setting's boat gaze towards Malene like a messianic figurehead on deck, with his hands raised above his head – not in a freeze frame, as in the later TV version, but in a living immobility.
Løkkeberg often has his body turned in a different direction than his face and gaze, in sections from totals to close-ups. This is how her character differs from her exposed, locked and forward-forced figurehead gaze.
It would have been rewarding to see the entire TV series version in a restored version as well. Hud here probably loses some of the mystery of its ellipses, but perhaps gains some of its slow social realism and the possibility of an even stronger identification with the characters over a further three hours. In addition, there are individual comic scenes, such as Oscarsson naked on horseback, and sequences with happy laughter by Stamp and Løkkeberg.
We are not done with Hud.
The dedication "To our children" is still valid.