A travelogue that's cinema verite through a blender; set to an unreleased Pink Floyd song, Stern's short is a frantic explosion of imagery - still photos as connected surreal animation - until he starts introducing filmed elements and the connects it to a Pink Floyd rehearsal and performance, as well as what appears to be a psychedelic ceremony which we cut away from on the precipice of orgy. Strange and oddly compelling.
Almost instantly forgettable, Nolan's latest feature might contain some stunning visual sequences but they are squished between mountains of clunky exposition, underwritten characters and cringe-inducing dialogue.
The film takes 45 minutes to actually get started, the Earth-set first act tethered to a very poorly explained future and weirdly simple plan to save it before we actually get into space. When that happens, we find ourselves at a recurring juxtaposition between some of the best visual depictions of deep space ever…
My first Tati and I'm enamoured by his visual style and sense of place over character. We learn so much about everyone in the film based wholly on their surroundings, and M.Hulot here is less a distinct comic persona than a conduit for social commentary and amusing juxtaposition.
Though the premise of the film suggests a clash of personalities, what I didn't quite expect was the cutting attack aimed at the bourgeois ideal in Mon Oncle. The vulgar modernism of…