What remains of the self when the system teaches us to live as reflections of its own machinery?
Alienation is not merely a philosophical idea; it is the silent tragedy of modern existence. Béla Tarr's Sátántangó captures this condition with haunting precision: a gray, rain-drenched landscape where people drift between illusion and reality, freedom and submission, presence and absence.
This book reads Sátántangó as a sociological mirror of alienation, revealing how economic systems, social structures, and psychological pressures fracture the unity of the human self. Through hypnotic silences and endless repetitions, Tarr's cinema exposes individuals as both the creators and the captives of the very system they sustain.
Moving between sociology, philosophy, and film aesthetics, Alienation explores the collapse of meaning in a world where freedom has become a burden and dependence a comfort. It is an invitation to confront the emptiness we have normalized.

And it asks one lingering question:
In an age where even emotions are commodified, can cinema still awaken us from the slow hypnosis of modern life?