Go ahead, brigade of one heart and thousand languages – On Jancsó Miklós› Fényes szelek

A car is coming from the other side of the reser­voir. Young peo­p­le are wat­ching it, a loud whist­le calls a gathe­ring for a par­ti­san action. This arti­fi­ci­al lake tog­e­ther with a dila­pi­da­ted buil­ding; the who­le lake­si­de resem­bles an old fac­to­ry dis­trict. The car arri­ves, ano­ther whist­le, and the par­tisans appear in front of the car, embra­cing each other in a line stop­ping the cars. A plain-clo­thes offi­cer gets out of the car, ano­ther one of the par­tisans in a red shirt appears. In the back­ground, we can see poli­ce­men in uni­form poin­ting at the par­tisans with their machi­ne guns. The man in the civil clo­thes asks the youngs­ters if they have gone mad, then orders the poli­ce­men to put off their guns. He must be the head of the­se poli­ce­men and sure­ly knows the par­tisans from befo­re. While he coll­ects the guns, the youngs­ters arran­ge in a big cir­cle clo­sing in on the offi­cer. He faces the red-shir­ted man, and in a fri­end­ly way asks him to let the poli­ce pass. The par­tisans lay on the ground and start sin­ging: “On Madrid’s bor­ders, we stand on guards…”. The man in civil clo­thes lays down with them and sings for a second. He stands up, as if he knew he shouldn’t and couldn’t stay. He signals the poli­ce­men to inter­rupt this per­for­mance. At first, the poli­ce seems com­ple­te­ly power­less, and the poli­ce can­not get the peo­p­le lay­ing on the ground stand up. All of a sud­den, the par­tisans jump up and start to throw the offi­cers into the reser­voir. The man in the civil clo­thes appears in the fore­ground of the image, retrea­ting with hands rai­sed up. The man in the red shirt goes through his pockets and con­fis­ca­tes his gun. In the back­ground, par­tisans and poli­ce­men are play­ing tog­e­ther in the water. Final­ly, it turns out that the gun wasn’t even loa­ded. This was the first shot of the film.

To com­pre­hend the den­si­ty of this first shot requi­res dis­am­bi­gua­ti­on, and this can be achie­ved through the tho­rough exami­na­ti­on of the cho­reo­gra­phy. The film starts with the youngs­ters wai­ting; they know alre­a­dy that the poli­ce­men are coming as they have pre­pared an action to stop them. When they arri­ve, we belie­ve that their power has a threa­tening effect on the par­tisans, which sen­se is sup­port­ed by the fact that the stop­pa­ge and pro­test are against them. Their power is repre­sen­ted in the uni­forms, in the guns, in their cars. On the other hand, the youngs­ters’ power is pre­sen­ted in their songs and their coll­ec­ti­ve movement.

Kozma’s figu­re (the offi­cer in civil clo­thes) seems to be some kind of media­tor in this ten­se situa­ti­on and his role rai­ses our uncer­tain­ty con­cer­ning what is at sta­ke. When he gets out of the car to ask the youngs­ters what they are doing, his tone is casu­al, almost kind­ly, while the guns appear in the back­ground. Then, how is it pos­si­ble to lay down with the par­tisans and in the next moment, give orders to stop their pro­test? Pushing the offi­cers in the water under­mi­nes the serious­ness of the sce­ne, it seems more like a par­ty than a con­fron­ta­ti­on, but then in the fore­ground we see Koz­ma with hands up, even if he has a gun.

The limi­nal atmo­sphe­re bet­ween game and ter­ror, play­ing and humi­lia­ting, joy and defi­ance crysta­li­zes through Koz­ma, and sets the stage for the who­le film.

Later, it turns out that the youngs­ters orga­ni­zing the par­ti­san actions are actual­ly NÉKOSZ (Natio­nal Asso­cia­ti­on of Popu­lar Colleges/People’s Col­lege) mem­bers, which was an insti­tu­ti­on under the Ráko­si régime – the Sta­li­nist peri­od after WWII – to edu­ca­te the child­ren of the lower clas­ses, in order to give them the oppor­tu­ni­ty to beco­me intellec­tu­als. So, in theo­ry, the NÉKOSZ mem­bers and the poli­ce­men are repre­sen­ting the same revo­lu­ti­on on dif­fe­rent levels. The­se youngs­ters are not real­ly revol­ting against sta­te aut­ho­ri­ty, as they sup­port the ideo­lo­gy of the régime. When the self-orga­ni­zing group later gains power they pro­ve them­sel­ves more radi­cal than the poli­ce itself.

This first shot is the pre­sen­ta­ti­on of NÉKOSZ in the­se unsta­ble power-rela­ti­ons. From here, the film is about their aim to con­vin­ce the stu­dents of a Catho­lic semi­nar of the strength and sin­gu­lar vali­di­ty of their com­mu­nist ideas.

Spar­k­ling Motion

The year 1968 was quite signi­fi­cant in both Wes­tern and Eas­tern Euro­pe. Paris and Pra­gue beca­me the two sym­bo­lic cities of the revo­lu­ti­on, facing fun­da­men­tal­ly dif­fe­rent issues and pro­blems. Paris beca­me the cent­re of a social revo­lu­ti­on moti­va­ted by ideo­lo­gi­cal con­vic­tions and a dis­gust at bour­geois hier­ar­chies and impe­ria­list con­duct, while the peo­p­le of Cze­chos­lo­va­kia were oppres­sed under the Soviet régime, which neces­si­ta­ted a respon­se, a revo­lu­ti­on for libe­ra­ti­on and self-government.

In Hun­ga­ry, 1968 was not so rele­vant, as only a mino­ri­ty were awa­re of the revo­lu­tio­na­ry inten­ti­ons. Being a part of the Soviet bloc, most of the intellec­tu­als felt attrac­ted to the exam­p­le of Pra­gue, whe­re the aim was to demo­cra­ti­ze the régime from the dic­ta­to­ri­al sta­te forms. The most visi­ble con­se­quence Hun­ga­ri­an intellec­tu­als had to suf­fer was a long series of dischar­ges from work­places (publi­shing hou­ses, uni­ver­si­ties and the aca­de­mia), as well as an infa­mous pro­se­cu­ti­on of phi­lo­so­phers for their various expres­si­ons of soli­da­ri­ty with the peo­p­le of Pra­gue. From this per­spec­ti­ve the revo­lu­ti­on against capi­ta­lism, con­su­me­rism, and Ame­ri­can impe­ria­lism see­med distant, like an arti­fi­ci­al pro­blem made by and for the West.

In the con­text of Hun­ga­ry, Jancsó’s inter­na­tio­nal­ly well-known figu­re was an excep­tio­nal one. Fényes szelek was the director’s first colour film, made after the inter­na­tio­nal suc­cess of Sze­gé­ny­le­gé­ny­ek and Így jöt­tem. This movie can be seen as part of a tri­lo­gy with Jancsó’s later films Sirok­kó and La paci­fis­ta.

Jancsó was among the few favou­red intellec­tu­als who were free to go abroad – he spent months in Chi­na and often tra­vel­led bet­ween Euro­pean cities. In the May of 1968 at the Can­nes film fes­ti­val, he actual­ly wit­nessed the French revo­lu­ti­on up clo­se, and it made a deep impres­si­on on him. Retur­ning to Hun­ga­ry later in the sum­mer, he star­ted to shoot Fényes szelek. Despi­te being embedded in Hun­ga­ri­an cul­tu­re, the sto­ry and the motifs of the film car­ry the signs of the director’s view­point on 1968, influen­ced by both the Eas­tern and the Wes­tern-Euro­pean situa­ti­on. Jancsó’s enga­ged populist–socialist atti­tu­de and his cri­ti­cal approach towards any kind of aut­ho­ri­ty meet in a com­plex ideo­lo­gi­cal field, resul­ting in a movie full of enthu­si­asm for and fear of a given his­to­ri­cal situa­ti­on, ana­ly­zing the natu­re of power and reflec­ting upon dif­fe­rent poli­ti­cal con­texts at the same time.

“Remai­ning, of cour­se, always an out­si­der.” [1] This quo­ta­ti­on of his remi­nis­cen­ces of his visit in Paris in 1968 descri­bes exact­ly his limi­nal situation.

Befo­re moving on to some reflec­tions on the con­tem­po­ra­ry atmo­sphe­re, it is neces­sa­ry to take a look at Jancsó’s state­ment about the narrative’s peri­od; the late for­ties in Hun­ga­ry. Socia­lism was con­cei­ved in sin. He exem­pli­fies how easi­ly good­will and pure faith turn into radi­cal­ism by loo­king at a harm­less orga­niza­ti­on, NÉKOSZ (Natio­nal Asso­cia­ti­on of Popu­lar Col­leges). Jancsó hims­elf had an expe­ri­ence of this insti­tu­ti­on tog­e­ther with the film’s screen­wri­ter, Herná­di Gyu­la, as they were both mem­bers of the Popu­lar Col­lege, par­ti­ci­pa­ting in coll­ec­ti­ve events and agi­ta­ti­ve actions. The orga­niza­ti­on was only acti­ve from 1946 to 1949, and befo­re Jancsó’s film, the orga­niza­ti­on was hard­ly remem­be­red, while it pro­ved to be an excep­tio­nal­ly effec­ti­ve edu­ca­tio­nal tool, accor­ding to reports of the for­mer members.

Fényes szelek was pro­mo­ted as a com­me­mo­ra­ti­ve movie to NÉKOSZ – the Hun­ga­ri­an title is Spar­k­ling Winds, recal­ling the first lines of its march song; “Spar­k­ling winds blo­wing our flags and sub­ver­ting the who­le world.” After its pre­mier, part­ly due to heigh­ten­ed and fal­se expec­ta­ti­ons, it real­ly divi­ded the cri­tics and the Hun­ga­ri­an audi­ence. Inde­ed, it was very unex­pec­ted, as it was the first film by Jancsó that the sta­te-par­ty unders­tood as a cri­tique of their régime.

The expe­ri­ence of 1968 reso­na­tes with the beha­viour of the Popu­lar Col­lege peo­p­le, espe­ci­al­ly in the second part, when under Jutka’s lea­der­ship, the group radi­cal­i­zes. The ban­ners and the fliers recall the images that live in the public con­scious­ness about the revo­lu­tio­na­ry streets of Paris. Moreo­ver, their appearance; the far­mer skirts, stri­ped shirts and hair­styl­es defi­ni­te­ly evo­ke the sixty’s trends.

Ano­ther noti­on that streng­thens the rele­van­ce of the French con­nec­tion is the com­pa­ri­son with Jean-Luc Godard’s La chi­noi­se. Both films reflect the cli­ma­te of the late six­ties in France, and both keep distance from the juve­ni­les’ actions, show­ing bor­der­line attrac­tion and repul­si­on towards them. Howe­ver, their tone and cri­ti­cism tou­ch­es upon dif­fe­rent aspects of their revo­lu­tio­na­ry way of thin­king and radi­cal­iza­ti­on. Godard por­trays stu­dents with super­fi­ci­al ide­as and pre­ten­tious theo­ries exag­ge­ra­ted to the point of ridi­cu­lous­ness. By con­trast, in Fényes szelek, even if it’s assu­med that the­se peo­p­le do not have any com­plex thoughts on their deba­te topics, like the role of the indi­vi­du­al in histo­ry or the cogniza­bi­li­ty of the world, their devo­ti­on and ide­as are taken serious­ly. For ins­tance, the con­trast bet­ween the peo­p­le of the Popu­lar Col­lege and the Catho­lic semi­nar is shown in the oppo­si­ti­on of their shar­ply dif­fe­ring con­vic­tions, that all seem rele­vant as they are based on actu­al per­so­nal and his­to­ri­cal expe­ri­en­ces. Radi­cal­iza­ti­on in both cases comes from a child­li­ke atti­tu­de; in La chi­noi­se the stu­dents don’t seem to have a rela­ti­on with the gra­ve­ness of the actu­al poli­ti­cal and social situa­ti­on, while in Fényes szelek, the juve­ni­les’ serious­ness crea­tes the situa­ti­on in the nar­ra­ti­ve, inter­fe­ring with the actu­al poli­ti­cal situa­ti­on of the country.

The estab­lished para­bo­lic form of Jancsó’s pre­vious films beco­mes more com­pli­ca­ted, as the dra­ma­tur­gic struc­tu­re fol­lows two main cha­rac­ters of the same group, embedded into the con­text of three dif­fe­rent ideo­lo­gies. Jancsó builds up the sto­ry by con­cen­t­ra­ting on the mem­bers of the Popu­lar Col­lege, who­se inten­ti­on is to make the stu­dents of the Catho­lic semi­nar share their com­mu­nist ideo­lo­gy. While the­re is puri­ty in their thoughts and spi­rit in their unquencha­ble thirst for deba­te, all their actions seem naï­ve and chil­dish in their bru­ta­li­ty, and each of their ges­tu­res beco­me unex­pec­ted­ly aggres­si­ve. The first attempt to deba­te fails becau­se of this atti­tu­de, fol­lo­wed by Laci’s dis­il­lu­sionment and later renounce­ment, and the second time Jutka’s abu­ses make an end to this pro­cess. The sto­ry­line is cle­ar­ly divi­ded in two parts, pri­ma­ri­ly focu­sing on the two main cha­rac­ters and their rela­ti­on to the Popu­lar Col­lege and to the Catho­lic semi­nar, but it can only be dis­cus­sed within the con­text given by the sta­te aut­ho­ri­ty embo­di­ed by the policemen.

The two prot­ago­nists essen­tia­li­ze the idols of com­mu­nist youth; their faces tell ever­y­thing. Baláz­so­vits Lajos as Laci repres­ents an ever­y­day guy, a per­son who is devo­ted and enthu­si­a­stic in spre­a­ding com­mu­nist ide­as, yet resists any kind of aggres­si­on and has faith in deba­te, so he remains harm­less. His lea­der­ship seems sin­ce­re­ly and nai­vely demo­cra­tic at the first sce­ne on the river­si­de, when all the mem­bers of the col­lege fol­low his way of acting, but in the end, they form a dancing cir­cle tog­e­ther. Laci takes off his red shirt, the sign of his distinc­ti­ve­ness and he joins them naked as if he was renoun­cing aut­ho­ri­ty in favour of the college.

Con­tra­ry to all this, in the second part of the film we see Dra­ho­ta Andrea as Jut­ka, the clo­se-up shots show her dra­ma­tic face and despe­ra­te look. Her atti­tu­de is much more deter­mi­ned and aggres­si­ve than Laci’s. As a lea­der she feels neces­sa­ry to rise abo­ve the others, so after fil­ling Laci’s for­mer posi­ti­on as main secre­ta­ry, she lite­ral­ly rises by sit­ting on the should­er of two boys while deman­ding accoun­ta­bi­li­ty for the assu­med per­pe­tra­tors. Cla­ri­fy­ing the con­sen­sus and the ideo­lo­gy is essen­ti­al for her, and to pro­ve to the Others she is rea­dy to make radi­cal decisions.

Offe­ring two pos­si­ble roles as a lea­der of a com­mu­nist group, Jancsó arti­cu­la­tes his view­point on the dyna­mics of the oppres­sors and the oppres­sed in the Sta­li­nist times of Hun­ga­ry, slight­ly refer­ring to the con­tem­po­ra­ry events, the revo­lu­tio­na­ry atmo­sphe­re of 1968. The detail­ed struc­tu­re of the film is based on 31 long takes adjus­ted to the dyna­mics of dif­fe­rent types of move­ment. Their inspi­ra­tio­nal source might be that the director’s first encoun­ter with art was par­ti­ci­pa­ting in a dancing theat­re led by Muha­ray Ele­mér, who was a pro­mi­nent cho­reo­grapher and rese­ar­cher. Jancsó shot docu­men­ta­ries about this theat­re and, as we can see in films like Fényes szelek, it deep­ly influen­ced his later works.

The actors’ moti­on can be read as the expres­si­on of their ideo­lo­gies, as Szek­fű András[2] argues. As descri­bed abo­ve, the first type of coll­ec­ti­ve move­ment is well-pre­pared; it’s an offen­si­ve action, when the mem­bers of the Col­lege flock tog­e­ther in a skir­mish-line, pha­lanx, cir­cle, or they sim­ply crui­se around the others. In the first sce­ne they alre­a­dy appear moving as if it was a par­ti­san action against the poli­ce­men. Com­pli­ca­ting the situa­ti­on, one of the poli­ce­men, Koz­ma, joins the youth, expres­sing the clo­se con­nec­tion bet­ween the poli­ce and the Col­lege, and his per­so­nal attach­ment to it. After drop­ping the poli­ce­men into the water all the mem­bers them­sel­ves jump in. The­se coll­ec­ti­ve move­ments have an ambi­guous sen­se: despi­te their playful­ness, they also invo­ke the atmo­sphe­re of a mili­ta­ry action. Stres­sing this mili­ta­ry con­no­ta­ti­on, their move­ments are also accom­pa­nied by strong whist­les, shouts, or ideo­lo­gi­cal­ly offen­si­ve songs. This mili­ta­ry atmo­sphe­re rea­ches its high­point later, during Jutka’s lea­der­ship, when the skir­mish-line for­med by the Col­lege mem­bers dri­ves the semi­nar stu­dents into a cor­ner. After that, Jut­ka comes up with the idea of shaving the hair of the guil­ty, which unmist­aka­b­ly resem­bles Nazi methods.

Addi­tio­nal­ly, loo­se and aim­less wal­king also evo­kes mili­ta­ry-like move­ments, and the­se actions are usual­ly fol­lo­wed by dif­fe­rent kinds of moti­on. Wal­king around always sug­gests the inten­ti­on of asses­sing and wea­k­e­ning the other’s ideo­lo­gi­cal posi­ti­on and, abo­ve all, repre­sen­ting the domi­nan­ce of the group. The first encoun­ter with the stu­dents of the semi­nar hap­pens this way – they are stan­ding side by side in uni­forms, and the Col­lege mem­bers try to break their unity shou­ting ques­ti­ons to deba­te. Approa­ching the stu­dents as libera­tors, their way of moving can be sum­ma­ri­zed by a sym­bo­lic sen­tence Laci shou­ted: “We came to intro­du­ce our­sel­ves.” Asking ques­ti­ons wit­hout expec­ting ans­wers, only for the sake of per­sua­ding peo­p­le, this is how the atti­tu­de of the Col­lege peo­p­le is shown. Regard­less of Laci’s honest belief in deba­te, this sce­ne appears to be more of an inva­si­on than a fruitful dispute.

Ano­ther fun­da­men­tal move­ment is dance, eit­her orga­ni­zed or spon­ta­neous, always per­forming an ideo­lo­gi­cal affi­lia­ti­on. Orga­ni­zed dances are demons­tra­ti­ve ones, while a spon­ta­neous dance might express a tem­po­ral unity. In the case of the Col­lege the dances are usual­ly con­nec­ted to revo­lu­tio­na­ry songs or folk songs. Howe­ver, the most important dancing sce­ne is when Laci invi­tes Hun­ga­ri­an folk dancers and an orches­tra to per­form, testi­fy­ing that he under­stands that the total lack of inte­rest in the semi­nar stu­dents makes the deba­te impos­si­ble, and chan­ges the tech­ni­que of his approach. As the­se move­ments root back to the Hun­ga­ri­an folk tra­di­ti­on, they form a com­mon base for the Popu­lar Col­lege and the Catho­lic seminar.

The last type of move­ment, appearing in some sce­nes, con­cen­tra­te on only one or two cha­rac­ters pre­sen­ting a cer­tain ideo­lo­gy or stand­point. Wit­hout the strong back­ground pro­vi­ded by the group, the­se peo­p­le beco­me uncer­tain and expo­sed to the others. Despi­te their uni­forms, the stu­dents of the Catho­lic semi­nar most­ly move in an indi­vi­du­al way, or react tog­e­ther to the offen­si­ve move­ments of the com­mu­nist youth. This indi­vi­du­al move­ment domi­na­tes in a par­ti­cu­lar­ly important situa­ti­on, in the con­ver­sa­ti­on bet­ween András and Laci – this is the first sce­ne when Laci’s ideo­lo­gi­cal con­fi­dence gets destabilized.

In addi­ti­on to the ana­ly­sis of the move­ments, the spa­ti­al struc­tu­re of the sce­nes is some­thing that might be rela­ted to the mili­ta­ry-like atmo­sphe­re. The who­le spa­ti­al arran­ge­ment resem­bles a fort­ress assault, as the sto­ry beg­ins and ends in the river­si­de below the Catho­lic semi­nar on a hill, as if the atta­ckers were wai­ting to con­quer the fort­ress. The assem­blies of the Col­lege are held on an oppo­si­te hill so they have to retre­at to ela­bo­ra­te new stra­te­gies. In a nuts­hell, the Popu­lar Col­lege and the Catho­lic semi­nar can be iden­ti­fied easi­ly, while the third group, the sta­te aut­ho­ri­ty can­not be loca­li­zed. It seems like they were ever­y­whe­re. They do not need a spe­ci­fic place, so it is dif­fi­cult to con­front them. They appear in unex­pec­ted situa­tions wit­hout any kind of hard­ship, they enter and lea­ve when­ever they want. Their modus viven­di expres­ses their omni­po­tence and degra­des the fight of the Col­lege to a fairy tale, an unim­portant game of the youth. The tool sym­bo­li­zing their sta­tus is the car, which grants them fle­xi­bi­li­ty, and gives sym­bo­lic mea­ning to the sce­ne when the stu­dents over­turn the car. This case is a tur­ning point for Laci, as he final­ly under­stands the real power rela­ti­ons which beco­mes the ulti­ma­te reason for his renouncement.

The last part, the last sce­ne in par­ti­cu­lar, with the mem­bers of the par­ty cle­ar­ly shows Jut­ka as a sym­bo­lic figu­re of the Popu­lar Col­lege youngs­ters. Retur­ning to the start­ing point, the batt­le plan seems chil­dish and unse­rious, but the poli­ce­man, Koz­ma calms the dis­ap­poin­ted Jut­ka down: “You can still be col­lege secre­ta­ry, even Minis­ter.” Howe­ver simp­le this last sen­tence is, it expres­ses the officer’s per­cep­ti­on about the poli­ti­cal régime – no mat­ter how radi­cal you had been, you could still be pro­mo­ted. Or even worse, the more aggres­si­ve you were, the more pro­ba­ble you beco­me a leader.

Even if the­re are some unmist­aka­ble simi­la­ri­ties out­lined bet­ween the 1968 and the NÉKOSZ stu­dents, at this point it turns out that the­re is no total cor­re­spon­dence. Jancsó, when describ­ing Paris in the abo­ve­men­tio­ned text, uses the term atmo­sphe­re seve­ral times with a slight­ly cri­ti­cal over­to­ne. I would sug­gest this is the key for under­stan­ding his view­point on 1968 based on this film. He alre­a­dy saw what had hap­pen­ed to the hopes of Popu­lar Col­lege youngs­ters, how cer­tain peo­p­le got inte­gra­ted in the régime. The sen­se of 1968 remains more of an atmo­sphe­re, reve­al­ing the essence of being young and revo­lu­tio­na­ry, some­thing which Jancsó lived through being a NÉKOSZ mem­ber, in which he beca­me dis­il­lu­sio­ned. This com­ple­xi­ty is arti­cu­la­ted through the pre­sen­ta­ti­on of the plot in dances, songs and spee­ches; while to a cer­tain ext­ent he, as a direc­tor, remains an out­si­der, he tre­ats all the groups and indi­vi­du­als with a lot of empa­thy, even sympathy.

The director’s distant posi­ti­on gets more sen­ti­men­tal, when it comes to folk cul­tu­re. Laci invi­tes folk musi­ci­ans and dancers to uni­fy dif­fe­rent peo­p­le, and it real­ly works, even if only for a cer­tain peri­od of time. The poten­ti­al of pure folk cul­tu­re is pre­sen­ted as equal­ly acces­si­ble for ever­yo­ne, some­thing that ever­yo­ne knows and enjoys. Howe­ver, the empha­sis is on its tem­po­ra­ry natu­re, as, after all, folk cul­tu­re can also be ideo­lo­gi­zed to a harmful ext­ent, so it can only be a pure and unharmful solu­ti­on to a cer­tain degree.

In Fényes szelek, a com­plex uni­ver­se of expe­ri­en­ces and ide­as appears; fruitful in its con­tro­ver­sies, nuan­ced in its argu­ment. This film out­lines Jancsó’s view­point on the gene­ral dyna­mics of power, on par­ti­cu­lar poli­ti­cal situa­tions, reflec­ting upon the indi­vi­du­al dri­ven by the mass and in reverse.

[1] Jancsó Miklós: Párizs ’68. Zse­bünk­ben a bölc­sek köve. Film­világ (2008) pp. 12–13. http://filmvilag.hu/xereses_aktcikk_c.php?&cikk_id=9374&gyors_szo=%7C%7CJancs%F3%7CMikl%F3s%7CJancs%F3+Mikl%F3s&start=0 (date of actu­al down­load: 2021. 05. 03.) (trans­la­ti­on by Babos Anna)

[2] Szek­fű András: Fényes szelek, fúj­já­tok! Jancsó Miklós film­jeiről. Buda­pest: Mag­ve­tő Könyv­kia­dó, 1974. p. 92.