The Angelmakers
by Astrid
Bussink, Director
The Cinema Guild, New York, 2005
DVD, 34 mins., colour
Sales: $US195; rental $US65
Distributors website: http://www.cinemaguild.com.
Reviewed by Kathryn Adams
Australia
kathy@pacific.net.au
"If there is a problem with him,
I have a solution." Szuzsanna Fazekas,
midwife.
The women of Nagyrév had a problem
with their husbands during the early 1900s.
Their men were abusive, alcoholics, crippled
war veterans who were a drain on the families
meagre resources, unemployed or simply
just in the way. At a time
when arranged marriages were common and
divorce was not an option these women
needed to find another way out of their
domestic torment. When a local midwife
suggested they poison their husbands by
adding arsenic to their meals, the women
of this sleepy, Hungarian village had
their solution.
Astrid Bussink brings the village of Nagyrév
and its mysterious past into the spotlight
in her award-winning, short documentary
The Angelmakers. By gently coaxing
present day villagers, some descendents,
to talk about the series of arsenic
murders, arrests, and subsequent
trial that took place in their town, Bussink
succeeds in unravelling some closely guarded
village secrets. Some of the folk interviewed
are elderly women who still reside in
the village. Although their recollections
are hazy at times, these wonderful, whimsical,
irreverent characters give this film its
heart. An 83 year old woman, who remembers
the day the authorities came to arrest
the guilty women, says wryly, "
after this the mens behaviour to
their wives improved markedly."
This relatively unexplored chapter in
Hungarys past has been described
as being "one of the most extreme
examples of female uprising in history."
Although things have improved as far as
womens rights and privileges go,
the women of Nagyrév are still
fighting the gender politics that remain
in the society today. We see how one contemporary
group of women overcome these gender issues
by forming a local folk dance group against
the wishes of their disgruntled and non-supportive
husbands. These women are clearly frustrated
with their struggle for these small privileges
and are determined to retain their freedom.
All is not well on the home front, György,
I would let the ladies dance if I were
you.
Images of the surrounding countryside
and the deserted buildings that dot the
now desolate and depopulated town give
the film a real sense of foreboding. The
market sellers, the ferryman quoting lines
from a Petofi poem and the meandering
hunchback with a basket to fill give the
film a folkloric quirkiness and an insight
in to modern day Nagyrév.
The original score by John Schaten, no
doubt inspired by Hungarian folk music,
is particularly haunting during the closing
credits when black and white photographs
of the real women on trial for murder
are shown, dismal and resigned. This is
a poignant and reflective time for viewers
and gives credence to the historical basis
of the story.
For the sceptics, including Hungarian
friends who have never heard of the case
and insist it is fiction, you will find
an abundance of information about these
fair ladies and their ill-fated husbands
on the internet. By 1929 this quiet but
potent uprising had ended. The authorities
were notified, over 140 bodies were discovered
and the murderesses were put on trial.
For those keen to do further research,
a trip to Nagyrév itself could
have you poring over old court records
at the town archives where Dr Geza Cseh
is convinced "there are still secrets
to be unearthed
"
This is an intriguing tale by a young
filmmaker who has added all the right
ingredients and turned history into atmospheric
and compelling viewing. Bleak but oddly
refreshing, this documentary not only
raises social, economic, and cultural
issues, it gives us a glimpse into a town
still nursing the secrets of its dark
past. You will have mixed feelings as
to whether or not these women should be
labelled murderers and be
surprised at what became of Auntie
Szuszi the midwife at the centre
of this wicked and delightful yarn.
"If your husband has you seething
Belladonna you must feed him
Add some pepper, make it pleasing
Hell be laid out by the evening
- Hungarian Folk Song.
Mind the goulash, chaps!