The trav­els of Rob Rombout

by Ernies Tee, 2018

Ernie Tee, Pro­fes­sor is Film His­to­ry & Film Analy­sis at the Dutch Fim Acad­e­my
(Show­case Cin­e­ma Rob Rom­bout, 2018, Grif­fith Film School, Grif­fith Uni­ver­si­ty, Australia)

“In an age where every­thing is with­in reach, trav­el itself is the great for­got­ten path. Not in the films of Rob Rombout.”

When film made its first appear­ance in 1895, many of us were forced to sta­sis. In the course of the nine­teenth cen­tu­ry trav­el lust had prompt­ed us to devel­op many oth­er ways to trans­port us to dis­tant places, in addi­tion to mar­itime traf­fic. But very soon after the intro­duc­tion of the Ciné­mato­graph from the Lumière broth­ers it was film that took us to the most inac­ces­si­ble regions of all con­ti­nents, includ­ing the ice-cold polar regions. At the same time, we as film pub­lic, were sen­tenced to small, and lat­er larg­er, dark­ened rooms, which we were not sup­posed to leave as long as the film played. This is the sit­u­a­tion that has descend­ed on us since the com­ing of film: we have all become explor­ers, with­out hav­ing to leave our city, our vil­lage, our place. Because of film, trav­el­ling was no longer a mat­ter of mov­ing our bod­ies, but made trav­el set­tle into our imag­i­na­tion. And how rich did our imag­i­na­tion get when fed with all those beau­ti­ful, silent trav­el­ogues in the begin­ning of the last century?

Nowa­days these con­di­tions are gone of course: the phys­i­cal move­ment is ful­ly opti­mized and democ­ra­tized, with ease every­one gets to the far­thest cor­ners of our plan­et and film has noth­ing more to tell us, since we our­selves are the sup­pli­ers of the most dar­ing trav­el films with all our dif­fer­ent types of smart apps. These films’ goals are not to chal­lenge our imag­i­na­tion how­ev­er, but are evi­dence: they have to demon­strate that one has been at that place.

Extract of Ams­ter­dam Sto­ries USA, by Rob Rom­bout and Roger van Eck, 2013

Rob Rom­bout is a film­mak­er who brings trav­el­ling back to our imag­i­na­tion with his doc­u­men­taries. The film­mak­er, liv­ing a nomadic life him­self most of the time – as a Dutch Zaan­lan­der who end­ed up in Brus­sels with his Por­tuguese wife, but trav­els a lot around the world for his films – leads us every­where, from Paris to Moscow, from Chi­na to the Ker­gue­len Islands in the south­ern­most part of the Indi­an Ocean, from the Azores to the Urals, where Rom­bout dis­cov­ered an extra­or­di­nary doc­u­men­tary film fes­ti­val in the iso­lat­ed town of Perm. And most­ly we have end­ed up in Ams­ter­dam through his films, though not only the Ams­ter­dam in the Nether­lands, but also the Ams­ter­dam in the Indi­an Ocean (Île Ams­ter­dam), the Arc­tic Island Ams­ter­dam north­west of Spits­ber­gen, and the Ams­ter­dams at fif­teen places through­out the entire Unit­ed States of Amer­i­ca who are allowed to car­ry this name.

“But all these des­ti­na­tions are not the actu­al sub­ject of the films of Rob Rom­bout. We may be tak­en any­where and every­where, but the films tell us more about the jour­ney towards it, about trav­el­ling, about being on the go.”

But all these des­ti­na­tions are not the actu­al sub­ject of the films of Rob Rom­bout. We may be tak­en any­where and every­where, but the films tell us more about the jour­ney towards it, about trav­el­ling, about being on the go. In the film­por­trait about Dutch writer Joost de Vries, made by Rom­bout in 2016, the film­mak­er takes the writer on a train jour­ney, as to lit­er­al­ly loosen the writer’s views from the ground in which they are root­ed. And in many films of Rom­bout we specif­i­cal­ly expe­ri­ence the jour­ney before we arrive at the des­ti­na­tion (“Perm-Mis­sion”, “The Azores of Madredeus”). But, once arrived, it is as if we are not yet con­vinced of the dura­bil­i­ty of the des­ti­na­tion in the films of Rob Rom­bout. When he vis­its pro­ces­sions and taurada’s with Madredeus on the Azores, a cus­tom in which enraged bulls are released in the streets, it seems like it is a study on the firm­ness of the rit­u­al from the film­mak­er. In oth­er films it seems Rom­bout is open­ly look­ing for an excuse to leave the place again. For exam­ple, the film he made about the Alsace, “The Pas­sen­gers of the Alsace”, does not have the Alsace as its sub­ject, but deals with the ques­tion of what the inhab­i­tants of this region, often com­ing from else­where, find so spe­cial about hav­ing become a true Alsa­t­ian. It is as if the film­mak­er, per­haps out of dis­be­lief, search­es in oth­ers their rea­sons for mov­ing to an area and stay there.

A reward­ing are­na for Rom­bout is formed by all those set­tle-loca­tions, that have a tem­po­rary char­ac­ter and where depar­ture some­where in the future is cer­tain. For exam­ple, at the Queen Eliz­a­beth 2, where Rob was shoot­ing his film “Transat­lantic QE2”, and for the Queen Mary 2, a gigan­tic cruise ship, on which he filmed “QM2, The Enter­prise”. This also applies to the North­ern see drilling rig with its reg­u­lar crew, where he filmed ‘Black Island’, and cer­tain­ly also for the Nord Express train, with which he trav­elled from Paris to Moscow to por­tray his fel­low trav­ellers and many peo­ple who lived and worked along the route (“Nord Express”).

“The being on the move in Rob Rombout’s films is expressed by the loose, sen­su­ous way in which the film­mak­er builds up his films. Nowhere you can find the restric­tions of a tight nar­ra­tive struc­ture. Des­ti­na­tions are allowed, but the jour­ney itself may still sur­prise us in many aspects.”

The being on the move in Rob Rombout’s films is expressed by the loose, sen­su­ous way in which the film­mak­er builds up his films. Nowhere you can find the restric­tions of a tight nar­ra­tive struc­ture. Des­ti­na­tions are allowed, but the jour­ney itself may still sur­prise us in many aspects.

In an age where every­thing is with­in reach, trav­el itself is the great for­got­ten path. Not in the films of Rob Rombout.

Extract of Ams­ter­dam Sto­ries USA, by Rob Rom­bout and Roger van Eck, 2013