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,…
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…
My pal Hayao Yamaneko has found a solution: if the images of the present don't change, then change the images of the past.
He showed me the clashes of the sixties treated by his synthesizer: pictures that are less deceptive he says—with the conviction of a fanatic—than those you see on television. At least they proclaim themselves to be what they are: images, not the portable and compact form of an already inaccessible reality. Hayao calls his machine's world the 'zone,' an homage to Tarkovsky.
This movie IS the ZONE. Just as the kamikazes pilots ARE the PLANE.
So Vertigo entered the Sight and Sound list of best movies of all time in 1982.
This movie was made the…
I feel like I am not old enough to fully comprehend the emotions that are described in this essay movie. Though i enjoyed it I always had the feeling I am missing crucial experiences to relate to the subject. I am going to rewatch it in a decade.
"I've been round the world several times and now only banality still interests me."
An often-pretty gallery is swamped in a misguided travelogue fetishizing Japan. The ideas aren't new, developed by early analysts of post-modernism in the 1960s, with the same regard for Japan as he arrived without the cultural misinformation. The presentation of information was too monotonous to keep my attention. Many sequences are entirely pedestrian.
den Film den er nie gemacht hat, sehen wir hier, literarisch starke Texte , pointenreich und offen zugleich, Poesie entsteht aus der Unsicherheit
Here I am singing praises for how well Boyhood strings together random moments in time like memories, and then this happens.
Staggeringly great and awe-inspiring. I can't wait to revisit it and be overwhelmed by its profound beauty again.
Not sure I can give this a rating. Some meta moments are truly transcend, and even though I often found myself profoundly bored, an image or a turn of phrase would provide just enough to keep me watching. Weird screening to be quite honest.
The best 'film essay' I've ever seen? Possibly. But, like with any of these 'essays', I can never fully explain why.
I see this as a kind of filmic travel writing. Chris Marker combines images of places he visits with letters home, voiced in English by a female narrator. The bulk of the film is from Japan, which is a dream of a place for a travelling anthropologist. but there is also stuff from Africa, Iceland, and San Francisco, where he sets out to visit all the locations used in Vertigo. It is full of those observations that occur to you if you are travelling alone in a strange place ('it is impossible to watch Japanese television for more than 20 minutes without starting to believe that it is watching you'). But linking it together are meditations on memory. What do…
Did I understand Chris Marker's landmark work Sans Soleil? At times.
Was I captivated by the rhythm of the piece?
Yes very much.
Did it unlock a detail in Hitchcock's Vertigo that I had overlooked?
Will I continue to mull on Sans Soleil techniques, questions, and cuts?
Yes probably for sometime.
- A Trip to the Moon
- The Great Train Robbery
- The Birth of a Nation
- Les Vampires
- The Godfather
- Seven Samurai
- The Godfather: Part II
- 12 Angry Men
- Citizen Kane
- 2001: A Space Odyssey
- Tokyo Story
- The Rules of the Game