Lately, I've been reconnecting with a lot of former friends and acquaintances from high school and college. And no, I don't mean on Facebook. I mean sitting down and having an actual conversation, filled with meaningful dialogue, heart wrenching regrets, near-death experiences, and spirited philosophical debates. While watching My Dinner with Andre, sometimes I checked out from whatever they were talking about and let my mind wander to things relevant to my own life. By the end I was moved and refreshed, just like I feel after these dinners/meet-ups I've been having that are becoming more and more frequent as I get older.

I can't say I have anything in common with white male playwrights, one of whom is content…

This whole conversation plays right in front of our eyes and there's never a moment in which it panders away. Yet the whole movie's primary focus is directed towards not what the film is about, but what it is that our subjects are discussing thoroughly. Louis Malle's My Dinner with André exposes a form of art which can be found right from seemingly simple conversation. It's an idea that on its surface seems very fairly small, but suddenly as we find ourselves pulled into this discussion, specific thoughts come into our mind that also go on to question how we're perceiving what we believe to be ordinary within our own lives, it's truly something more exciting than what could be…

"film is a visual medium" they say, "my dinner with andre" others retort. Wallace walks to the restaurant like a long-dead ghost wandering to no place in particular through a bustling city of the living, he appears uncertain and anxious and blue, two hours later he will walk out of the restaurant with his feelings not inverted but irrevocably various and eager and rose coloured. He looks at the passing streetlights with eyes that cry out "jesus christ, have these things always been here?" He instinctively connects these miraculous lights with memories that had long since been abandoned to the lonely chasms of his shadowy mind, left to rot under the label "unimportant/insignificant." He has dinner with Andre and they…

My loving wife bought me the Criterion some time ago ( with the caveat that I’d most likely be watching alone ). Well, an alone watch night came about last night, and I plucked the disk from the shelf with particular anticipation. The first thing that stuck me about this new Criterion is it’s unflinching accuracy in reproducing Malle’s tiny budget 16mm esthetic; there is no attempt to de-noise and de-grain the original negative to produce a more pleasing image; all the rawness and grain is there, just like I remember it on the screen so long ago at the Festival of Festivals.

I have a cousin that lived on the East Coast that I would summer with at his…

I watched this twice today. Wallace Shawn speaks from a place of familiar futility. He's the voice of the audience. Upon first viewing, I somewhat disliked Andre. He has the luxury of purchased hipster reality. He participates in quack cult-like retreats in foreign countries as away to reconnect with his humanity. Wally struggles to pay his bills and is content with the simple details of life, but in turn never bothers to ask important questions or take any risks.

Having lived in poverty for many years I will say that questioning your relationships and goals is a privilege of the rich. Travel is impossible, you're lucky if you can make your way out to a party that you probably don't…

Favourite moment in this by some margin was Wallace Shawn's casual reference to the fictional play "Violets are Blue". The only information he gives us, or Andre, about the play is that it's about "people being strangled on a submarine." It's a wonderfully surreal moment, intriguing enough that I spent ages on Google before I realised it was a play that only existed in-film, that I'd been hoodwinked.

There's something so interesting about fictional art within fictional art. The reference to this play is so off-hand and meaningless, but it had such an impact on me. That's likely the intention all along, given this film's extended rumination on the nature of art and its subjectivity.

Also, I hope a lot…

My evening as it pertains to this film was quite interesting. I had been watching an interview of the Dardenne brothers from the supplements available within the Criterion Collection release of Rosetta and I had been thinking about how I had been using a lot of my time to strictly watch films because I like to be able to log what I watch on this site. And so with that, I began to think of how the interview I was watching was as much a film as any other. And later on in the evening, I find myself watching this feature.

For a movie that really just consists of two men having a conversation after having not seen each other…