”But doctor, I’m not ill. My illness is seeing too clearly.”
Apocalypse Bresson, the beginning of the End. His world begins to crumble under the weight of modernity; the folly of man despoiling the land as much as polluting the human soul. Bresson remains true to form, capturing post-’68 youth, its laments and failings, with utter clarity, via the ever-present 50mm lens, but the spaces between objects and models, huddled in cramped interiors (garrets, bookstores, buses, even a Medieval community…