All the films from all the editions, including those subsequently removed, presently totalling 1167. An easy way of seeing how…
"He wrote me..." A woman narrates the thoughts of a world traveler, meditations on time and memory expressed in words and images from places as far-flung as Japan, Guinea-Bissau, Iceland, and San Francisco.
The first image he told me about was of three children on a road in Iceland, in 1965.
On my imaginary shelf of favorites Sans Soleil had always sat slightly out of view, clandestinely lingering in the shadows behind the other cinematic behemoths that had crafted the loftiest statures in my mind. It sat in an indeterminable repose as I time and time again avoided re-watching it, every time hesitating, wondering if this was truly the film I once had thought it to be. Being intimidated by my own inner-circle is just the kind of business I'm in, and baby, business is a-boomin'. Now, after a multitude of revisits, looking back on my imaginary shelf there are still those that…
There's a great quote from a book I read recently that is a great little companion to the film, so I thought I'd include it.
“What we, or at any rate what I, refer to confidently as memory--meaning a moment, a scene, a fact that has been subjected to a fixative and thereby rescued from oblivion--is really a form of storytelling that goes on continually in the mind and often changes with the telling. Too many conflicting emotional interests are involved for life ever to be wholly acceptable, and possibly it is the work of the storyteller to rearrange things so that they conform to this end. In any case,…
When it comes to movies these days I really am spoiled by so little want. I mean, it's just so easy to get hold of most things, even if one has to resort to torrent sites like karagarga or other more obscure avenues. Rewatching Sans Soleil reminded me of when I would make almost daily trips to the library in downtown San Francisco and bring home anything on DVD or VHS that looked interesting or that I'd heard about from friends on livejournal or whatever, often browsing a selection of the same old titles, yet anxious to see if perhaps anything new had been returned and not already picked out by another in the constantly ravenous swarm of movie fiends.…
Like any decently-educated cinephile, I was saddened at the passing of filmmaker Chris Marker in 2012. Having only seen La jetee by that time, I grieved based on how insanely original I found that film to be, and it further inspired me to seek out his other work to pay tribute. Well, as all of us cinephiles who vow to watch a canonical filmmaker's filmography can most likely sympathize, things in my life got in the way and that idea was derailed, replaced by other distractions or duties.
It wasn't until I purchased the discounted Criterion Blu-ray containing Marker's two greatest works that my goal was reinstated. I watched La jetee again, loving it even more, and then I moved…
"History throws its empty bottles out the window."
There are few if any avant garde films out there that are as funny and beautiful as this one. This is simply put one of the best film ever made. A fascinating study of memory, life and beauty. The scenes from Iceland were filmed in my hometown, Vestmannaeyjar (Heimaey), and stand here as the image of beauty. Japan is the place of future, the sci fi part of it. Africa is our origin. The world is a timeline, an emotional map and it's on display in this masterpiece.
There is no way I can write a review of this film. Any attempt is futile so these words will have to stand as an invitation to an experience. They in no way reflect the sun. They are in fact Sans Soleil - sunless. The film however is not.
#69 — Sight & Sound's 2012 Critics Poll
From my ongoing quest to see all the Sight & Sound films...
Chris Marker's Sans Soleil is a strange and strangely satisfying documentary (of sorts) that focuses much of its attention on the minutiae of life in Japan as described in letters (of unknown provenance) read aloud by a woman with scrupulous diction. (Perhaps the one and only change I'd make in this curiosity of a film is replacing that narrator, as she tends to inflect even the most neutral-seeming ruminations with a smidgeon of haughtiness.)
The literal subjects (Japan and Africa and—to a lesser extent—San Francisco, Iceland, and elsewhere) are ostensible; Marker merely prefers these experiential data as a means of discussing memory…
we are all lost cats, wherever you are peace be with you
The final installment in my "I woke up at 1:30pm and decided to binge watch films all day" trilogy
p.s also really really very good
Sans Soleil throws a lot of stuff at me that I usually don't care for:
1. I didn't really love La Jetee that much, so Chris Marker isn't that extraordinary to me.
2. I'm not a big fan of documentaries without much of a point. Yes, I can enjoy something like The Man With the Movie Camera based on its importance to cinema, but I won't love it.
3. I'm usually not a fan of voiceover in general, but especially not pretentious ones.
I think what Marker's intent is to make a free-form documentary that discusses the similarities and difference between various segment of the world, but mostly to discuss the idea of memory. Yet I don't think either of…
I've always felt specially attracted to this kind of film. Not just watching, but making. The social commentary it provides, the images, the extensive amount of themes and, on a personal level, the look of 16mm. I always enjoy this sort of thing. Chris Marker, though, is way more poetic than any other filmmaker working in the same area. He doesn't just discuss society, but basic human traits. Memory, love, sex, companionship, politics.
Sans Soleil is a truly great film, one that I really look forward to watching again.
As it should be expected, the Criterion release of this looks absolutely beautiful.
Abstract and poetic, while gorgeously entangled in a perspective upon both stray and fascinating observations.
Sans Soleil is a must watch documentary.
I would happily watch a Shoah-length version of this. I completely forgot about all the monkey sex. I want to go back to Japan right this second.
Released the same year as Godfrey Reggio’s Koyaanisqatsi, Chris Marker’s Sans Soleil similarly uses non-diagetic sound and montage as a way to communicate feelings about the changing world. Marker, that great mercurial outsider of La Nouvelle Vague, is no less skeptical of modernity, even as he relishes in the beauty of its banality. A travelogue and essay film told to us by way of a letter written by a man who has moved from the two extremes of Japan and Guinea-Bissou.
While most films of this kind might recount the travels, San Soleil instead becomes a meditation on the nature of human memory. Without context, memory fades, images persist even if the actuality does not. Sans Soleil sets out to…
hypnotic and thought-provoking but a bit tough to get through honestly
Hay otros mundos, pero están en Japón (y en otros lados también y eso pero, sobretodo, en Japón)
Exactamente al igual que con "La Jetée" me da la impresión de que esta mas preocupada en que te impresiones con ella que en ser algo propiamente impresionante. Es lo malo que tienen estos tipos de experimentos/vanguardias/periferismos culturales, que incluso con las mejores intenciones por parte del autor y del receptor, en el momento en que uno empieza a sospechar que esto es mas "así" por pose y por exhibición que por convicción y esquizoide necesidad propia (y este es un problema altamente perceptual y chungamente irresoluble) todo lo que se ve es una forzada coreografía de La Inteligencia aprendida de cabeza…