This is what happens when your car breaks down on a Sunday morning and you have nothing else to do…
Last Year at Marienbad
Takes place in a chateau, an ambiguous story of a man and a woman who may or may not have met last year at Marienbad.
Self-indulgent cinema at its most beautiful. I wanted to love this because duh, but I hated it because also duh. It goes nowhere, it fails to create any kind of atmosphere, and the "nightmare" it portrayed was a pretty tame nightmare. I once had a nightmare where my penis turned into a snake and ate my butt. Make a movie about that.
Deconstructing cinema much in the way Bresson wanted to do but in more grand fashion. It is akin to the Dadaist art movement of anti-art, breaking the rules and destroying the notion of what we perceive as true art. Perhaps not fully to that extent but Resnais clearly experiments with the medium of cinema in a way majorly unaccepted and ironically it becomes the focal point of where the film's greatness lies.
Last Year at Marienbad begins with repetitive and poetic narration ominously filling the air of the long empty corridors and parlors it softly speaks of. In the first few opening scenes alone it is apparent Resnais is ready to deliver something entirely unique to the world of cinema.…
Set within the confines of a grand château, Last Year at Marienbad is a vessel of half-memories and never-ending corridors. It's a black and white nightmare refusing to flow smoothly as all of its elements face off in a tremendous aesthetic battle. Organ music pummels into dialogue, distracting from dense and repetitive conversations, and making it impossible to fully comprehend a grounded reality. The film has its own space, its own temporality, and everything is completely folded into the inescapable setting.
Despite being frequently labelled as ambiguous and surrealist, Last Year at Marienbad can be read in quite basic terms when stripped down. It's always seemed to me that the film attempts to depict the aftermath of a tragic affair…
won't be surprised if I have
like eleven nightmares tonight.
Warning: There might be spoilers ahead.
My first venture into Alain Resnais' filmography couldn’t possibly have left a better impression. As great as straight forward structures can be, it's films like Last Year at Marienbad that give cinema such a unique identity and the ability to tell a story in a way that no other medium can. I like ambiguous films, but it’s the experimental nature on top that really makes this a special piece of work. I don’t really know how to review a movie that often completely ignores typical movie conventions, instead I’m going to talk about observations I made regarding the content, style and what impression they left me with.
Last Year at Marienbad is a film…
"Why don't you still want to remember anything?" ~ X
The trailers announcing this film promised moviegoers a new cinematic experience, "better than 3-D, better than widescreen," putting the viewer at the center of a love story and a mystery. It would require us to come up with our own answers about the truth of various scenes and what really happened at Marienbad a year ago. Right away, we know this is going to be avant-garde filmmaking. Fortunately, having already experienced one film by director Alain Resnais, "Hiroshima Mon Amour," I thought I had some idea of what I as getting into.
It doesn't help at all, of course, that the characters have no names or clear relationships. They are…
The cinematic gadfly. Probing, like a good work of philosophy.
It makes sense if you don't think of it as a normal movie. It's like a puzzle, a maze, a game. Everything eventually fits into place.
This is the third or fourth time I'm watched Last Year at Marienbad, and I finally have it figured out:
Last Year at Marienbad is a game of Jenga. The Alains behind it (Resnais, director, and Robbe-Grillet, scriptwriter) constructed the tower, piece by piece. They built it up like every narrative is built: plot, character, setting, themes. Then they started removing pieces.
WHOOP! There goes a bit of plot.
WHOOP! There goes another.
WHOOP! There goes some character history.
WHOOP! There goes...
WHOOP! There goes...
Piece by piece goes, until all that's left is the teetering skeleton of what once was. And this, this they decided to film. But the Alains weren't done. Instead of taking the straight path through…
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
I’ve never been so simultaneously bored and intrigued by a movie before.
I think I wandered into a ghost's daydream or something. Maybe.
Not quite as emotionally stimulating as Hiroshima Mon Amour, but certainly a step forward as far as the dream-like aesthetics go. Filled to the brim with inner personal longing and regret, edited to near perfection; I can't even imagine what it must have been like to shoot this thing in preparation for the crazy cross cut narration bits (which pretty much take up the film's entirety). Rarely have I been so sucked into a film so hard to comprehend, my emotional response from scene to scene was constantly evolving as the film progressed into further unexpected territory. By the time the film ended, I was filled with an enormous sense of completion; everything had built up so naturally, the dream had become a nightmare, and it was finally time to wake up.
How am I suppose to review this? Or even rate it? Honestly... what the hell. I liked it and hated it so much at the same time. I liked the principal idea of man and woman debating wether they met before, that was very interesting and liked that part. I also loved the cinematography and the music, those were so good. My problem was with that goddamn narrative structure. That was more than enigmatic, it was pure non-sense. I could never figure out what was real and what wasn't. I guess that's the whole purpose of this movie, but I didn't like it. Basically, an orignal story, a remarqueble cinematography and a great score butchered by an ambiguous narrative that didn't make sense to me.
...Last Year at Marienbad is and might be the only true intellectual horror film. The setting of this movie is a hotel; but not just any grande hotel, no, the hallways, the salons, the gardens, and the ornaments of this particular locale are not mere trappings of a holiday destination, these are maps, paintings, living, breathing corridors that enclose corners around which could house gods just as comfortably as ghosts.
There is a scene in this film in which Md. Seyrig opens a drawer containing dozens of her own photographs. This brief moment-and brief moments are what this film is made of-is a key to unlocking this film. No, Last Year at Marienbad is too impenetrably shapeshifting to ever be…
not like stupid/dull, but as in movies that are so insanely packed with things and ideas and visuals they become…