This film, much like its title, does not empathetically align with anyone. It heavily relies on subtext. We must deeply analyze Guiraudie's ironic defiance. Must we? Maybe not.
I am waiting for Miséricorde.
This film, much like its title, does not empathetically align with anyone. It heavily relies on subtext. We must deeply analyze Guiraudie's ironic defiance. Must we? Maybe not.
I am waiting for Miséricorde.
Pleasant, but requires rewatching and exploring Dumont's cinema after the film Camille Claudel.
François works at night and loves Anne, who works during the day. This results in them never seeing one another. One morning, he sees her leaving her house with an airline-pilot. In the afternoon, instead of sleeping, he wanders the streets and recognises the pilot with another woman. He follows them to the Buttes-Chaumont park, where he meets Lucie, a curious schoolgirl. Together they follow the couple like detectives.
Paris m’a séduit.
Paris m’a trahis.
Paris m’a pris mes espoirs…
Mizoguchi and the dentist.
Miss Oyu By Daney
In the early fifties Mizoguchi made only fine films. This story of a ménage à trois adapted from a short story by Tanizaki is no exception to the rule.
First the design. A man goes to meet the woman he is to marry (and whom he does not know); he sees Oyu walking in front, Oyu sees him: it’s love at first sight. The problem is that is she’s not the one…