Loserish cinephile behaviour.
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The God Crippled With One Leg 1994
I have no mouth and I must scream. A juxtaposition of purity and violence, or more precisely, the violence it takes to become pure [free oneself]. The first act of love is finding ourselves again through art. It is taking the shard of glass that's planted in your foot and preventing you from walking onwards and using it to cut [forge] yourself a mouth. It is slashing the bounds that hold you back. It's screaming over the harsh noise. It's…
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The Seventh Seal 1957
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
“I met Death today. We are playing chess.”
I suppose that, to speak of Death, one must also speak of Life. The Seventh Seal, despite being the very first film I've ever watched from Bergman's filmography was and remains my absolute favourite of his. It is a memento mori in the form of a film – it is dark and cruel, just as much as its beauty is dazzling and stunning.
The story follows Antonius Block, a young knight who…
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The Man Who Sleeps 1974
L'introduction de la narratrice me fait beaucoup penser à Europa de Lars Von Trier. Ses paroles ont un effet hypnotisant, sa voix angélique ajoute à l'atmosphère quelque chose d'onirique.
“Ton réveil sonne. Tu ne bouges absolument pas. Tu restes dans ton lit. Tu refermes les yeux. Ce n'est pas un geste prémédité. Ce n'est pas un geste d'ailleurs, mais une absence de geste, un geste que tu ne fais pas, des gestes que tu évites de faire.”
J'adore lorsqu'un film…
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Mother Joan of the Angels 1961
I'm not going to lie, when I saw possessed Mother Joan rolling on the floor all the way across the room I laughed because it looked like a roll of gauze bandage unrolling.
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