All the films from all the editions, including those subsequently removed, presently totalling 1177. An easy way of seeing how…
Michel is released from jail after serving a sentence for thievery. His mother dies and he resorts to pickpocketing as a means of survival.
Well I must say it's very nice of Pickpocket to start off by telling us it's not a thriller.
I'm slightly pissed off by that opening. It could be because I'm over-tired and annoyed and possibly being over-sensitive, but there's a slightly sneery tone behind it that almost smacks to me as suggesting that it would be beneath this film to be labelled a mere thriller. It's a really odd and stand-offish way to start a film, I must admit, and while I suppose in one way I do slightly appreciate its honesty, I think it could have done me a big favour in furthering that honesty.
"This is a…
So after the overwhelming satisfaction I found with Bresson's A Man Escaped, I immediately dove into his next chronological work Pickpocket. With a brisk 75 minute running time and an intriguing premise, I expected to have the same response that I had with his previous work. Whilst I didn't have the immediate affection for this film as I had for A Man Escaped, I have wrestled with it more after the fact to the point that it is showing it's true colours and I am very eager to watch it again.
With Bresson, one must adjust the way they read and understand film, and it helps to recognise his techniques. He throws convention out the window and strips away what…
A film that defies star ratings. Deeply unsettling. I still don't know if I love it, but I do know that it's absolutely brilliant.
"Can we not admit that certain skilled men, gifted with intelligence, talent or even genius, and thus indispensable to society, rather than stagnate, should be free to disobey laws in certain cases?" ~ Michel
If dourness can be beautiful and numbness artistic, then Robert Bresson is the writer-director to make it so. I watched this just a couple of days after viewing his Diary of a Country Priest, and the similarities are striking. There's the same laconic, solitary central figure -- this time a thief named Michel played by lanky Martin LaSalle -- and there's the recording of personal thoughts in a journal. Although this film takes place in Paris among lots of people, Michel is just as alone in…
A suit that's slightly too large. Impassive eyes that hold yours just past the point of comfort and suddenly drop. Delicately roving hands that slide over a cuff, a button, a purse clasp, and slip inward - or shy away.
I'm not sure when I've been more uncomfortable in the company of a protagonist. Watching him is like an experience of repeatedly, accidentally catching someone masturbating - and then we both walk away, pretending no one saw such a private compulsion made public.
In the final moments, the impassive eyes change; they are less secretive, hidden; there is, even, an open, innocent eagerness. My discomfort drops for the first time.
But then, "Fin." What has that last scene resolved? I am not sure.
A.V. Club review. Try as I might, I can't make the final line reverberate back through the entire film, which is what would need to happen for it to have the ecstatic effect Bresson clearly intends. Had enormous difficulty addressing that very personal reaction in the review while simultaneously acknowledging Pickpocket's importance and the fact that many people consider its ending one of cinema's greatest, which is one of several reasons why I think a blanket ban on the use of first person is wrongheaded. (Hi various editors!)
Well made. To the point.
Slow paced little beautiful poem.
My god, the tension Bresson crafted here is unrelenting, what an amazing movie. It's underplayed suspense, it's realistic, much more gripping than the standard Hollywood tension. The french new wave has something of serious value here, amongst the best it produced, I can't praise it enough. Short, sweet and to the point, it doesn't bother wasting your time.
Sorry Bresson, but Fuller did it better.
edit: this may be genius
,,Bresson manifested a fascination not with human psychology but with the capacity of the soul to survive in a world of pain, disbelieve, and restriction...''
“Knowing a deed is bad doesn’t stop you.”
“But why? Why?”
“To get ahead."
This is an exceptional film—not in the sense of unparalleled excellence but in its uniqueness. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen a film that is so unassuming and so focused. The only showy sequences in the film, of which there are two, are masterful and complex: in the bar where Michel learns his tricks (with classical music added to underline the artistry of his craft), and in the train where he’s a just player on a balletic pickpocket team.
Pickpocket is an exploration through an objective eye—no histrionics, no flash, no bullshit.
Its revelations are without feeling but produce feelings effortlessly. I do need to…
Not many movies have such an intriguing character case that they present to the audience. I wanted to enjoy the basic idea behind Pickpocket, but I barely felt any attachment to the story or the central character. The plot moves at a brisk pace, but is never overtly interesting or presenting anything beyond basic motives. Sure, those motives are introduced early and are fascinating, but I never connected with the characters plight. He thieves out of want, not out of necessity, an idea I have seen duplicated several times, such as in Breaking Bad. The most enjoyable part of the movie was the camera work, which really did show how the operation worked in a very real and believable way. Overall, Pickpocket should be a movie I enjoy, but I feel like the story is too barebones and not deep enough for the style of character it is exploring.
Movies should never have voiceover narration that tells you what you're seeing.
More Info to come
Great 60-90 min films (for those days when you just don't have the energy to watch a 3 hour masterpiece)
Doesn't the title of the list explain it well enough? This is a list of hight quality "short" films. Easy…