{"id":14,"date":"2026-05-26T06:20:16","date_gmt":"2026-05-26T06:20:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/?p=14"},"modified":"2026-05-27T05:41:41","modified_gmt":"2026-05-27T05:41:41","slug":"blow-up-1966-a-mystery-in-swinging-london","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/?p=14","title":{"rendered":"BLOW UP (1966): A MYSTERY IN SWINGING LONDON"},"content":{"rendered":"

I became interested in Italian arthouse modern cinema while researching <\/span>Italian Neorealism<\/span><\/i> during film school\u2014a movement that began in the mid-1940s and lasted for about a decade, catalyzing a challenge to the dominance of so-called \u201cquality cinema.\u201d What impressed me most was how cinema adapted to radical socio-economic and political changes, and how reality became not only a subject of content but also a tool for filmmakers to express socio-cultural conflicts.<\/span><\/p>\n

At first glance, the situation appeared simple: it was the mid-1940s, World War II had ended, Mussolini\u2019s Fascist government had collapsed, and Italian cinema had lost one of its main supporters, Vittorio Mussolini\u2014the dictator\u2019s son and an enthusiastic film producer. Film studios were severely damaged by the war, and poverty spread across much of Europe, including Italy. These limitations, however, became opportunities. Filmmakers embraced them to create realism: stories about the poor working class, shot on location with handheld cameras, using natural light, and often featuring non-professional actors. The result was the birth of what is now known as the Golden Age of Italian Cinema.<\/span><\/p>\n

Vittorio De Sica\u2019s <\/span>Bicycle Thieves<\/span><\/i> (1948) stands as one of the masterpieces of Italian Neorealism.<\/span><\/p>\n

I began watching the masterpieces of this movement\u2014Visconti\u2019s <\/span>Ossessione<\/span><\/i> (1942), Rossellini\u2019s <\/span>Rome, Open City<\/span><\/i> (1945), and De Sica\u2019s <\/span>Bicycle Thieves<\/span><\/i> (1948). I became deeply absorbed in the work of these filmmakers, who shaped my understanding of realism\u2014until I encountered the following statement:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUnlike early neorealist filmmakers, I am not trying to show reality; I am attempting to recreate realism.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

This idea shattered my perception of the purity and authenticity of realist cinema. I began to wonder: even though De Sica, Rossellini, and Visconti successfully depicted reality, perhaps recreating one\u2019s own version of reality through cinema is another valid approach.<\/span><\/p>\n

The quote was from Michelangelo Antonioni, an Italian filmmaker who redefined narrative cinema. In my view, he challenged the primacy of action in favour of observation and questioned traditional approaches to realistic drama. After directing nine feature films\u2014including his famous trilogy (<\/span>L\u2019Avventura<\/span><\/i> [1960], <\/span>La Notte<\/span><\/i> [1961], and <\/span>L\u2019Eclisse<\/span><\/i> [1962])\u2014Antonioni signed a deal with producer Carlo Ponti to make three English-language films for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM). Ponti granted him full artistic freedom, and Antonioni travelled to London to create the first of these films: <\/span>Blow-Up<\/span><\/i>.<\/span><\/p>\n

Blow-Up<\/span><\/i> (1966) is a psychological thriller and Antonioni\u2019s first English-language film, as well as his second colour film following <\/span>Red Desert<\/span><\/i> (1964). The screenplay was written by Antonioni and his longtime collaborator Tonino Guerra, based on Julio Cort\u00e1zar\u2019s short story <\/span>Las babas del diablo<\/span><\/i> (1959). Edward Bond contributed to the English dialogue.<\/span><\/p>\n

The film portrays the daily life of Thomas (David Hemings), a successful fashion photographer in Swinging London. Surrounded by wealth, women, fashion, and art, Thomas appears detached from any deeper purpose. While he photographs models\u2014whom he calls \u201cbirds\u201d\u2014for a living, he also wanders through the city in search of something more meaningful.<\/span><\/p>\n

The film opens with a group of mimes running through London collecting money for charity. These seemingly playful figures later reveal deeper significance, as we come to understand that not only they, but all the characters\u2014including Thomas\u2014are like puppets in the director\u2019s hands. Thomas enters the story among a group of homeless people, though at this point we do not yet know why he spent the night in a flophouse (later revealed to be part of his documentary photography project). This opening also reflects Antonioni\u2019s ongoing interest in political themes, similar to the opening of <\/span>Red Desert<\/span><\/i>.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas then returns to his studio, where the model Veruschka is waiting. She wears a fluid, custom-designed dress by Jocelyn Rickards, which transforms with her movement. This sequence becomes one of the most famous in cinema, often considered one of the most sexually charged scenes ever filmed. I would describe it as \u201csex with the camera.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The scene begins with Veruschka saying, \u201cHere I am,\u201d and unfolds as Thomas directs her through a series of increasingly intense poses. His instructions\u2014\u201cgive it to me now\u2026 come on\u2026 that\u2019s good\u2026 lean forward\u201d\u2014function both as technical direction and as an expression of a deeper psychological dynamic between artist and subject. At one point, he asks his assistant for a \u201c50\u201d (possibly referring to a 50mm lens, or symbolically to something more suggestive), then tells Veruschka to lie back. He climbs onto her, and as both breathe heavily, he continues: \u201cThat\u2019s it\u2026 keep it up\u2026 lovely\u2026 make it come\u2026 now! Yes!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

In this moment, photography becomes analogous to sexual intercourse: the camera as phallus, the photographer as artist, and the model as art. This recalls Michael Powell\u2019s <\/span>Peeping Tom<\/span><\/i> (1960), though with a crucial difference. While Powell uses the camera as a psychological extension of his protagonist, Antonioni positions both the photographer and the camera as instruments under the director\u2019s control.<\/span><\/p>\n

Later, Thomas returns to his studio to photograph other models. Here, Antonioni\u2019s background in painting and his fascination with colour become evident. For him, visual design often takes precedence over character and narrative. Collaborating with art director Assheton Gorton, he uses a wide colour palette to construct meaning, emphasizing that colour is not bound to realism but can be manipulated freely.<\/span><\/p>\n

Responding to skepticism from Samuel Goldwyn about his use of colour, Antonioni wrote:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cObjects do not have fixed colours\u2026 a poppy can be grey, a leaf can be black\u2026 the law of beauty does not lie in the truth of nature. I am a colorist director.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Throughout the film, Thomas frequently visits his neighbour Bill (John Castle), a painter, and his girlfriend Patricia (Sarah Miles). Bill offers insight into Antonioni\u2019s philosophy of art: \u201cThey don\u2019t mean anything when I do them\u2026 afterward, I find something to hold onto.\u201d He then points to an abstract shape and remarks, \u201cI quite like that leg.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Later, Thomas visits an antique shop, considering it as a potential studio space. Inside, he becomes fixated on a landscape painting, which the shop owner refuses to sell. Leaving the shop, he wanders into Maryon Park, where he photographs a couple\u2014Jane (Vanessa Redgrave) and an older man. Jane confronts him, demanding the film, insisting that people have the right to privacy. Thomas refuses, remarking, \u201cIt\u2019s not my fault if there is no peace.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Their interaction introduces ambiguity. When Thomas says, \u201cWe\u2019ve only just met,\u201d Jane replies, \u201cNo, we haven\u2019t. You\u2019ve never seen me.\u201d This raises questions: Is she real? Is Thomas imagining her? Or has he entered a constructed reality?<\/span><\/p>\n

Jane later visits Thomas\u2019s studio, attempting to retrieve the film, even offering herself in exchange. He deceives her by handing over the wrong roll. After she leaves, he develops the photos and begins enlarging them. Gradually, he discovers what appears to be a gun hidden in the background, suggesting a possible murder.<\/span><\/p>\n

Through this process, Antonioni examines perception and reality. By enlarging the images, Thomas extracts meaning\u2014but also uncertainty. This contrasts with Bill\u2019s paintings, where Bill seeks meaning in abstraction; Thomas deconstructs reality into abstraction.<\/span><\/p>\n

That night, Thomas returns to the park and finds what appears to be a corpse. However, when he returns later, both the body and the photographic evidence have disappeared. His sense of reality begins to collapse.<\/span><\/p>\n

In the final sequence, the mimes reappear, pretending to play tennis with an invisible ball. Thomas watches, then eventually participates, retrieving and throwing back the imaginary ball. At this moment, he begins to hear the sound of the ball\u2014accepting the illusion. Shortly after, he too disappears.<\/span><\/p>\n

Blow-Up<\/span><\/i> was a major success upon its release during the 1960s, often considered the Golden Age of Cinema. While some attribute its popularity to its provocative content, its true significance lies in its challenge to traditional notions of realism and its profound influence on modern narrative cinema.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I became interested in Italian arthouse modern cinema while researching Italian Neorealism during film school\u2014a movement that began in the mid-1940s and lasted for about a decade, catalyzing a challenge to the dominance of so-called \u201cquality cinema.\u201d What impressed me most was how cinema adapted to radical socio-economic and political changes, and how reality became […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":53,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-film"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=14"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":16,"href":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14\/revisions\/16"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/53"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=14"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=14"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/untitledfigure.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=14"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}