There was a moment 40-minutes in where I had to pause the film and sit in reflection, because I was absolutely struck by how much I saw Delphine in myself. It is such an unusual sensation— I never really find characters in films who encapsulate me completely, but I did with Delphine, and I wasn't sure how to react. It's almost comforting in its honesty. This film required me to look inwardly at myself instead of as a mere bystander in others' affairs, and I think that alone is a worthy accomplishment.

4.6/5

when delphine cried for no reason...i felt that

A film that speaks to me like few others. I see so much of Delphine in myself that the film would be hard to watch if its criticism of her reservedness weren't so empathetically delivered. Rohmer was a master.

Even the title Le rayon vert is extremely beautiful. Éric Rohmer was a master simplicity and honesty but also complexity of the way he depicted the human nature. I see so much of Delphine in myself, it's painful to see a portrait of loneliness and detachment that is so raw and honest, but also soothing to see a film that understands the subject so well and that there are people who feel the same way you do, and maybe you're not so alone.

Cinema grounded on the complexities and contradictions of humans and their struggles with anxieties, fears and loneliness, that somehow feels so easy to do, even though it's the hardest one.

Is this the most Rohmer of all the COMEDIES AND PROVERBS cycle? Yes, and it is so accomplished and so tight.

But for my money, I’ll just be over hear watching the dance sequences from FULL MOON IN PARIS on repeat

Beautiful!

Primeros 15 minutos de la película: uf estos franceses de mierda y sus películas con charlas pseudo filosóficas insoportables

Últimos 15 minutos: :`)

What a vibe

The sorrow and happiness of those people are not related. I only find them noisy.

Delphine is a constant joy, but in many ways a cipher to us—at least as the film first unfolds. Characters around her poke at trying to figure her out, and largely only scratch the surface.

Her manifesto, delivered at the end at the cafe in Saint Jean de Luz, is a beautiful articulation of her experience—she knows herself well. It also fills in certain gaps of intent and observation in Rohmer's calculated editorial approach to the wandering vacation of a young woman. It isn't anything like a climax in the film per se; just a gentle overlay on a character, delivered to one who knows less of her than we do.

Marie Riviere gives one of the all-time great performances, particularly as it is manifesting the film itself as she gives it—hers were the central improvisations and character mappings that sort everything through. And that manifesto, a perfectly subtle touch of character revelation, was all her, in the moment. Astounding.

Um registro naturalista que beira o documental, e ainda assim trata de temas tão espirituais e subjetivos. Eu, como um capricórnio solitário, nunca antes me vi tanto em um personagem como na protagonista desse filme. Estarei de olho no pôr do sol de hoje em diante.