What is Hollywood, you ask, dear children? A quorum of whores babbling endlessly on about fucking while the bordello is razed for a penny arcade -- Paul Bern

Wednesday, November 24, 2010


Les Herbes Folles. First of all -- yes, another fucking masterpiece from Resnais, without a doubt. Line me up more or less with the partisans. Then execute me.

Secondly. It seems to be a sort of wicked "joke" on 3D -- a formalist challenge to make a stereoscopic film without the proper cameronian technology. Sabine's hair; The movement of the (various) grasses; Certain dental jokes. The shots of people in cars that recall rear projection without actually being so. The bloomy diffusion that gives depth to the sound stage world. The multi-planar narrations. The not-quite random violence of the ophulsian paroxysms of the camera, which are perhaps for the sake of exploring the fictional world, rather than merely shoving the narrative forward. The wandering among the crags and the graves.

Thirdly. Allow me to ungallantly and also unfairly point out that when "The Great Resnais" makes a film that approaches the habitual and CASUAL strangeness of the universe of Claude Lelouch, gussied up with primary colors and elegant moves, at likely ten times the cost, such a film is condemned to win awards. Let no one say that the jury at Cannes is immune to property values, even if they are sets!! That is, the film is madly sui generis, but only if you haven't paid any attention to poor (in both senses of the word) Lelouch.

Lastly, the score of autistic & banal cocktail jazz is fantastic.

No comments: