Hello, my name is Justin the Klu, and I'm here today with Will Sloan.

And you're listening to The Important Cinema Club. And today, we're talking about Hungarian

director Niklos Yencho. And I apologize if I pronounce that incorrectly, which I'm almost

sure that I did. And today, in tribute to the master, the microphone will begin in the distance, and then it will

slowly move towards us, arriving just in time to capture something horrible, and then it'll move

away.

So for people that are unfamiliar with this director, and I would not be surprised if you are, because

he is not somebody that I feel gets talked about that much.

Have you heard about him before, Will?

I had not heard about him until you raised him, which is crazy because he's considered by many to be Hungary's greatest filmmaker.

Even looking on the internet, like I was looking for articles, this man made 31 movies.

And I was like, there's got to be like a book or something

out there, even like a university tone that I could like flip through to get some historical

background, maybe production. Nope, nothing. I found some articles on senses of cinema, but that was

pretty much it when it came to him, which I found really surprising. Well, he was a regular on the

festival circuit

in the 60s and 70s. He won best director at Khan in 1972 for Red Soam, but despite this,

he never got the same embrace from North American critics and intellectuals as Godard,

Antonioni, even Brasson did. You know, Susan Sontag wrote extensively about Brasson

when he wasn't that popular. He never quite got that kind of support. And it's not hard for me to see why,

because his films are very Hungarian, very immersed in that country's history to the point where

certain of them can be almost indecipherable for a completely

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