Blow-Up ★★★★½

I watched this under the extremely fevered duress of food poisoning, which may have actually been ideal conditions for such an uncomfortably distancing movie. The empty, ethereal spaces only added to an ambiance of transient meaning, just as strong as disappearing bodies and imagined tennis matches. I’m not sure if my sick brain’s thematic interpretations are on the money, but as I was watching it I got the impression it was about the dangerous, and perhaps futile, attempt to find serious meaning in art. Tired of photographing models, Thomas finds more artful things to capture, but then layers on increasingly fraught and serious meanings to them. Lest the film get to serious with its own theme, the famous ending sort of dunks on Thomas’ quest for meaning making, where even a tennis match between mimes can take on a life of its own. Given my incredible love of The Conversation, Blow Out, and Deep Red, I was an easy mark for this. Loved it.

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