all these pristine young things in perfect land i want to puke! i grant this thing looks splendid constantly, like my old french workbooks brought to life (they even windsurf in this!), alas i just didn't quite connect. find myself wanting to watch the other french movie that truly milks the inhumanly generic outer developments of paris ; rollin's night of the hunted.
"what are you laughing about?
nothing...the day i tried to drown myself because of you.
are you sorry you did it?
no, it's a lovely memory. every young man should commit suicide once."
old boyfriends but transplant it to 30s france (gauzy lighting, dreamy camera work) with the stars of its day
insane how morose this is despite the rose colored glasses its lead mostly wears, and how it never relents. each old suitor she visits is either dead or crazy…
i had dramatic plans for how i would watch this after hearing about its radically simplistic submersion into blue for years and a few weeks consumed by reading and watching jarman. i wanted to paint an entire wall i would project it on the same blue. i wanted to paint myself blue like ferdinand in pierrot le fou to watch it. i wanted to get it programmed and have the theater admonish everyone to wear blue to the screening. alas i…
have never felt so adrift watching a film. took me two nights and this afternoon to finish this and on the face of it that sounds bad but it was a completely enjoyable even life-like distance i felt from the goings-on here. Yang is quickly becoming a favorite of mine. his plots don't have to be terribly engaging (i could not follow this in the slightest! but i usually get lost in that regard on initial encounters with mesmerizing stuff like this) because the images he chooses say so much already and on top of that the actors here similarly do a lot with a little.