Reviews

The contradictory comments here all have some truth in them. The movie is long, the 'obsequiousness' of Dr Aziz is painful to watch because it is difficult for a Westerner to understand the strong idea of deference to authority that exists for some people in some Asian cultures. (I am qualifying so because I have only spent 5 years in Asia long after the 1st colonial period ended)

But, to the point: Guinness as a Brahman. A certain Professor Godbole... the foreigner's singsong emulation of the Indian... the world's oldest religion summed up in a sentence by a man who is always rushing off to plunge his feet in the school's pool of water... Best to laugh when our visions of the East are so well sent up.

Certainly my favorite part of the movie. Godbole. lol

7 / 10

It has been two years since I've seen this film, but I wish to recommend it to anyone interested in the history of Martinique or in Caribbean literature, since Césaire (like Havel) has been both a successful writer and politician -- I believe he is still mayor of Fort-de-France. A good bit of Césaire's oeuvre is discussed in this film in its political context. From the same director as Rue des cases nègres.

A must for any university library with a focus on Francophone studies in their strategy for curriculum development incidentally.

8.5/10

This movie gave an academic soul like my own the urge to read Giono's book. A critic at Liberation pans the movie for being too linear and academic, while the critics at Le Monde were more enthusiastic about it -- correctly pointing out that a number of very key logical connections in the story were omitted in the film. This tactic keeps the viewer from having a firm grasp of what is happening in the story -- particularly if your native language does not happen to be French.

The opening scene with the old women (les veilleuses) is virtually incomprehensible unless one has a very solid grasp of idiomatic French -- for the non-natives I recommend either reading the book first or seeing a subtitled version. The story of Thérèse (played by Monique Mélinand and Laetitia Casta) develops from the gossip at the vigil.

The story becomes easier to follow once the camera leaves the old women, but just...

The filming is done in a style that reminds me of Peter Greenaway, with lots of long shots and bright colors (for which the viewer is quite eager by this point of the movie). Towards the end of the film there is a scene which in itself is worth the price of admission: Eric Gautier and Raoul Ruiz apparently spent a very long time on this scene filmed in 4 below weather on the side of a mountain in Luse. The result is stunning. I am not sure that it is an intentional nod towards Bergman's Seventh Seal -- perhaps it is just the carts but the color and fury of the storm were enhanced with this weird memory of death playing chess with a man...

John Malkovich. Brilliant body language. This is a good thing, because his French is quite incomprehensible at a couple of points in this film. This may have been intentional -- his character's motivation is meant to be unfathomable, why not his speech as well? After the role he played in Les Miserables for France 3, it is clear that he can speak French very clearly (apparently he worked closely with a coach -- the result was a very good Inspector Javert). In this movie, though, my friend (a French prof) and I were very glad when he started counting in English.

Laetitia Casta is quite good in the movie. With the exception of a badly botched kiss at the beginning of the movie, she seems very credible in the role and fits as seemlessly into the skin of an 89-year-old as that of a youngster.

To sum up... the movie is long, and difficult to understand. It is not a cheeseburger. I do think it will be richer the second time around and so I will wait to give it a rating until then. The work that went into the movie is worth at least that much effort...

Though everything about this film is technically well done, it lacks both edge and depth. The story is pointedly absurd and while there are a good number of funny moments, the point of the film, much like Godard's Weekend, (which is a much better film in my opinion), is to abuse the viewer. If you are into that thing vas-y, amuse-toi, s'y abuse!

While the most spectacular is Fellini's incredible and banal finale to this tryptich, all three of these short films are outstanding in their own way, and not a single one of them would be worth much at all without the others. In the first, directed by Vadim, one sees a spoiled brat princess (who knew that Jane Fonda was so beautiful??) who occupies her time bullying her pretty court around, until her cousin (who she scorns as lowborn until he frees her from a trap he has set) is the first to refuse her every whim. The first part of the tryptich is slow slow slow, dramatic tension is built masterfully in this segment however as three themes intersect in a fatal tapestry of images.

Louis Malle's second section is a much more compelling story. The student of French lit. may recognize the many gambling scenes from the 18th C. (Diderot's Bijoux Indiscrets) and the 19th C. (from Baudelaire's Tableaux Parisiens). Moreover, the tight scripting is reminiscent of Belle de Jour (in form if not in content) and poof! the second eerie story (which Poe may well owe to Dostoevsky's short story/novella The Double) is over and despite a slightly weak ending, you are shaken!

Which is as anyone approaching the final story should be. This is dystopic, nihilist theatre at its best. While certainly some of Fellini's traditional themes/images are evident (paparazzi, tragically and _almost_ unbelievably unfulfilled people, and gaudy overpainted women) this segment is an orgiastic zero which filled me with disgust and awe. In some ways, this is the section that is both the most cinematically impressive and the most repugnantly ego-centric. Poe did not live in the time of Ferrari's, airports, televisions and escalators, and yet this 'videodromesque' segment is squarely set in the 1970s. On the other hand, the Ferrari substitutes nicely for a horse, and melting TV screens will work as substitutes for Poe's affected prose. Since Poe was, after all, a drunk who was received much better in Europe than in the U.S. (believe it or not), I think Fellini remains largely on target.

Together, the three combine to make a very good psychological horror film with virtually no blood. (Only Malle sheds blood on screen in his story, if you except the possible corpse at the beginning of Vadim's segment) Check this one out. I doubt it will make you fear your neighbor, but it might make you fear Fellini!

I must be brief. This documentary, which splices in cuts from Vertigo and from some guerrilla films, is definitely worth seeing. Though a student of French literature, and therefore habitually and terminally bored by pretentious studies of memory, this movie is remarkable in the way it makes connections across continents through the filmmaker's memory, extended as it is by the visual images he has stored on film. To put it disrespectfully, there is a lot of eye candy in this film, some of which is extremely beautiful ... the computer graphics towards the end might even remind Cocteau fans of some of scenes from Blood of a Poet (these, though, were what I found to be a bit over the top). So far I have only seen this film once, and so many of the memories that it prodded just three weeks ago have faded, like for example the name of the composer whose Bez Solntse inspired the title, and the documentary on volcanic activity I saw somewhere sometime which was echoed in the section filmed in Finland. In any case, this film will give you insight into the fascinating co-existence of traditional and modern culture in Japan. This struck home with me because I lived in Asia during the 80s when the technology of video-games, computers, and stereophonic luxe were exploding in the very same culture in which colorful Hindu and golden Buddhist temples w/ smoking incense, bird-singing contests and kite races were popular Sunday diversions from production. Bref, a fabulous film. As others have suggested, be prepared to suspend the Hollywood mindset for this treat.

Not much to say about the film, which I thought was rather pretentious but certainly not entirely without merit. A few of the reviews above however, remind me of the haunting qualities of this film which will stay with me (shooting at the sun, Seberg hawking the Herald, and later posing breezy existential questions to a writer at the airport, Belmondo's endless telephonic impotence contrasted with his mastery of car engines). Yes, y'all have me convinced... I shall have to see it again w/ a more friendly disposition. Perhaps I'll even upgrade my grudging 6 rating to a grudgingly given 7