(review in process) Technically an adaptation of Dostoevsky's White Nights, but always singularly Bresson. The tall and skinny male protagonist, clothed in corduroy and weathered brown boots, roams around and idealizes what he sees into art. Pure and innocent is a refrain.
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Three Colours: Blue 1993
I mean this in the best possible way--the opening sequence reminds me of a kind of childlike way of looking at the world before everything had its meaning and place and was filed away somewhere. But it also has a sense of fragility with the closeup of the axle(?) going down the road at speed. The cinematography is great but meaningful and not just pretty to look at.
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The Match Factory Girl 1990
This is one of the most honest and bleak statement films I have seen. American cinema wouldn't dare to toe this line.
The film opens with the main character's workplace. A log with the potential to be built into something gets shaved into a long flat sheet and matches are assembled out of it. At risk of reading too much into it, it seems like the image says a lot about her storyline. Flattened out by a dead end job…
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