This film would have to have been made by a Haitian, who would not succumb to smoothing Baldwin’s words. Very compelling and a perfect release for Trumpian times. Any artistic quibbles I might have about the film are minuscule; it is way better than the majority of contemporary mainstream documentaries, and the fact that Baldwin uses cinema references throughout to support his arguments strengthens the film’s value. Every white person needs to see this film.
The film is flawlessly made, and apparently is a brilliant translation of the Di Benedetto novel, but it remains a painful experience to endure. The closest one gets to pleasure is the llama walk-on; otherwise it is an implacable (the adjective supplied over and over by the boorish governor) parade of cruel or conniving humans who conspire against slaves, indigenous peoples, and especially against our main man, who already has lost all hope of dignity before the film begins.
The doors and windows of bourgeois Paris open and close. Bresson dissects Tolstoy's moral tale of how the system favors those who have, and destroys the have nots.
There are just some incredible shots in this film, about how a petty crime has violent repercussions. Time and again Bresson puts his camera just out of the frame of the violence. A woman carrying a mug of morning coffee is slapped in the face, but we see the coffee cup not…
The spirit of Jean-Luc Godard (complete with shocking switch to color--red white and blue; and intertitles on the time and weather in world cities) moves to the flagship Kinokuniya Bookstore in Tokyo and discusses the psychology of kleptomania and sexual liberation, 1968 style.
The Ali Baba guy and his little theater troupe (turns out these guys Juro Kara and his legendary Situation Theater, who were an "epiphany of the postmodern theater movement", but I like to think of them as…